#it was kinda weird! :P

[ladytauria]

Ship bingo for uuhhhhhhh Jaytim is basic as is DickJay hmmm

DickTim <3

i love them <3

romeo & juliet part 2 electric boogaloo -> ngl while u can def fit ~forbidden love~ into this ship i picked this one mostly bc they are ABSOLUTELY the kind of idiots where, if one of them sacrificed themselves, the other would follow. or, well. go to the ends of the earth to either a) prove they're not dead or b) bring them back :P

this such a healthy, normal relationship (lying) -> they're bats. the obsessive tendencies come baked in <3

childhood friends to unresolved sexual tension forever and ever -> bc they're dummies who would never actually confess :P

give it twenty years & maybe they'll get their shit together -> see prev

it was love at first sight -> definitely for tim BUT my favorite dicktim flavor is post-red robin (ngl most of my tim ships, my favorite flavor is post-red robin) so i like to imagine that tim takes his cowl off and/or shows off that new confidence / the new tricks he's picked up & dick simply trips into love with him <3

[ink-the-artist]

blood animals

[sunsetcorvid]

couldnt sleep and ended up binging hlvrai again

am i cooking

[moeblob]

A lil guy !

[buwheal]

hey spamton! anything interesting happen recently?

[lovesickeros]

☆ you sow; & thus you shall reap what you are owed

{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, violence {☆} word count 0.8k

You are dying.

Gold melts into the dirt, bleeds into the very earth that you'd molded by your own hands – a familiarity you do not understand the source of – you know it to be true, yet you do not remember it as Teyvat does. It weeps, in turn, for the way you bleed upon it, the way your lungs strain for breath.

It is fury and sorrow and fear and hatred so raw that your mind buckles.

You will die.

"A dying godling and its judge, it's jury – it's executioners," The voice is hollow and cold, sweeps across your broken body like the first chill of winter, "Archons who saw themselves Gods, now brought to heel by their own hubris."

A cold hand upon your cheek, the brush of a thumb across your lip, the gentle caress of cold across your skin. You know her – you don't remember, you shouldn't recognize her but you do – and she knows you. The cold beckons and you follow, let her kindness settle in the hollow space of your chest. You want to speak, to cry and scream and rage, let the world burn around you in a fit of flames so hot even she cannot contain it – but she silences you, quiets the anger seeping into your blood, quiets Teyvat itself.

"Do not speak, little godling. Guide my hand," She is cold; her hands are not gentle, yet it is bliss compared to the callous, cruel hands that have shattered you. She is cruel and cold and brutal but she is love in the way she kisses the crown of your head. She is love in the way she is the bulwark between you and the world that has scorned you – she is fury in the way she brings them to their knees. "And I shall enact judgement most divine."

They will pray for forgiveness, and they shall find themselves wanting.

"It wasn't our fault!" They cry, but you cannot recognize the voice – it breaks and cracks like glass. "They were too human. How were we meant to know? We– we thought they were.."

Silence.

You watch your judge – the executioner, the blade that shall carve their sins into the very marrow of Teyvat, stand above you like death. As cold as winter and just as brutal. Your temple has been painted in the gold of your divine blood, and she shall complete the masterpiece with their own. The Archons shall become the grandest art in the world – this temple the canvas, their blood the paint and their bodies the palette. The cold that cuts sinew cradles you – it sings to you, whispers sweetly in your ear and carves bone from body in the same breath. The cold presses it's lips to your wrist and it cradles a heart within it's palm – judges them and finds them guilty.

It is her spear that rests between their ribs, her sword that dissects and her dagger that carves – the cold devours.

In the breadth of this divine sanctuary, the Archons dwindle. They become the pieces of a divine work of art, they bleed and bend and break upon her hands. She shakes the heavens and carves mortality into the bones of the divine – your word is Law, and you weave their deaths into the roots of Teyvat itself.

They shall know of their grand folly in every moment henceforth and longer still and they shall weep.

And as the curtain falls, as the world crumbles beneath fist and blade, she cradles your face between hands too cold – as gentle as a shard of ice between your ribs, as brutal as the kiss of gentle snowfall. The world buckles at the loss of six, but she alone does not allow it to break – you will have to mend the wounds of the world when you are well, but today you weep and Teyvat weeps with you.

And alone, the cold remains.

Stone has eroded, the wind has ceased, the flames have been extinguished, the storm has been silenced, the forests have gone quiet and the seas go still.

But the cold remains, bathed in gold.

It wraps you in thick furs, cradles you against the winter storm that brews beneath a veneer of composure. It brings you home – lets the world settle into a stillness and silence that inspires only dread and still she presses a kiss to your brow.

It is cold, but there has never been something so warm.

Where hands have broken you, she drapes you in furs, wipes away the thick gold that clings to your skin. She pieces you back together where you have been shattered, reshapes you where you have been bent – makes of you something new. Not a god and not a mortal but something wedged between them.

But you are yourself.

And you are where you belong.

They shall put you back together and you shall know only the worship worthy of the divine. They shall carve this world into your image, tear out and burn away the rot that festers.

All you need to do is say the word and they shall be your tools to make this world your own.

One word and those who wronged you shall burn, too.

Just one word. That's all it takes, and they shall take away your pain.

[blackheart-6]

happy anniversary deltarune chapter 2!!

[the-punforgiven]

Do y'all ever get nightmares that just like, aren't scary?

Like you can tell your brain is trying to make this scary, but you just feel nothing?

[snazzycrown]

I felt like drawing bug girl again, this time she can be kinda cool actually

[lopposting]

with every mistake we must surely be learning

[lynolch]

I like how he insisted on wearing the cult ring over the glove so it could only go down to the second knuckle.

[dreamersdwell]

Chest and old scars jumpscare under the cut btw, if you don't wanna see.

Also I ramble about my hc the tags 👍

Jumpscare, boo!

[nyantokanaru]

Hello, I go by Vee and after 10ish years I decided to start learning Japanese again. I self-studied in high school, and then quit, and here I am again.

I thought it'd be nice to have a place to keep my notes and track my progress. I was never formally taught so I probably have a lot of weird gaps in knowledge. I'm really just doing this for fun, and so I can read/watch Japanese media untranslated.

29 | they/them | native English speaker, a bit of Korean and French

ただの趣味だけどがんばってみる。よろしくお願いします。

[xagave]

My sense of time is so wack and I'm sure part of it is because I'm always so busy that the days fly by but checking up on an artist and seeing that their last homestuck post was a fairly long time ago is very jarring

[buwheal]

eeeyyyy, got bored and tried to draw you from memory.

how good is my memmory?

[knightwhoisni]

so ik this is Inconsequential Nerd Shit but i don't think we've seen the höllvania flag before this point?