#let's see how many notes this gets

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji goes to Lotus Pier (No relation to the AU of the same name)

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[benevolenterrancy]

~ Extremely Unwilling Magical Protagonists Attempt To Outrun The Plot And Not Fucking Die ~

(@takofukkatsumi this tag is from a while ago but it hasn't left my brain -- L-Space got very weird all of a sudden)

[deoidesign]

vampire and werewolf sitting in a tree

time trav e l i n g

first comes. trying to kill eachother then comes... learning you're his dead ex-lover then comes marriage!

(you can buy the book this scene is from for $15 it's really good. it's the fan favorite of the series!)

[pearl-the-artist]

(You called for me) Gabriel / Reader Oneshot

Ok please be patient with me on this. I spent over 24 hours in a car on a trip to Russia a few days ago and it made me do something I've never dared to before: write a fanfic. On my humble Samsung notes.

If this isn't a total flop I might make more? I dunno? Maybe hop on ao3?

Criticism and feedback is appreciated ok thank youuu have fun

Another restless night, another hour spent lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling above you. The room was shrouded in the comforting night air, more illuminated than usual by the soft glow of the full moon outside.

You look at the clock on your nightstand; precisely midnight. Two hours after your drunken father came home again, letting his pent-up frustrations and anger out on you in a one sided yelling match. Of course, as usual, neither was your mother of any support; only giving you that same disapproving, disdainful glare. You were never really welcome, not even in your own home- your parents biggest mistake lingering around only to weigh them down, and remind them of what they could've had. Or so they've told you, many, many times before. Tonight was no exception.

When the broadcasts first announced the new threat infesting the county, "alternates" they called them, you were, admittedly, both terrified and somewhat relieved. You were never really one to believe in the supernatural, but who knows, your parents were just superstitious enough to maybe fall for their schemes.

The first announcement had been around, what, a year ago now? Not much had really changed admittedly, although the population had begun falling drastically since then.

Your parents had of course used this opportunity to also confiscate your phone, the CRT TV in your room and old little MP3 player gifted to you by a relative, god forbid you let an alternate in to potentially threaten them, your own safety not even really a point for consideration to them.

Living with your parents was already hell, but getting by without your favourite albums and shows? Torture.

So tonight when you lied in bed unable to fall asleep, your mind wandering as usual, it may have wandered a little too far.

You recalled something you overheard your parents talk about. A friend of your dad's, a man of unwavering faith, who had been found dead in his own home a few weeks ago, seemingly in the middle of his usual prayers. Even though his family mentioned having seen an odd, ghostly figure outside their home that night, the doctors seemed to blame the cause of death on a brain hemorrhage.

It made sense, come to think of it. When you first saw the emergency PSA, it explained all kinds of methods to protect yourself from alternate attacks, one of which being avoidance of religion, faith, and philosophy.

So then, the alleged "ghost" that visted that poor man just might've been... Well.

This gave you a bad idea, but you weighed the options available to you.

Either you would die in a similar way as the old man, or... you might just get lucky and bargain with it. Alternatively, nothing happens, and you remain stuck with an unhappy married couple that hates each other as much as they hate you.

It was definitely stupid, but at this point it seemed like you had nothing to lose anyway. You weren't really much of a believer yourself, so you didn't exactly know how to pray, but you gave it your best shot. Sitting up in your bed, hands clasped together with a bowed head and closed eyes, you tried your best to focus.

If there was a god out there, may it hear your pleas. Wordless whispers called for help, begging to be heard, while you did all you could to try to concentrate on any spiritual connections. All the while you knew you may as well be praying to a literal demon.

A few minutes passed as you racked your brain for what to say before you stopped, your hands falling back into your lap.

What the hell were you doing? Yes you hated it here, and you couldn't even run away if you wanted to, but inviting an alternate to your house just like this? It was a death sentence, and not a pretty one, that much was certain.

You shook your head. It probably wouldn't have worked anyway. Right, this was all just some silly superstition, not that different from those "send this to 5 other people or you'll die tonight" chain e-mails. You laughed internally at how silly it was that you even thought this would work to begin with, and, admittedly, felt a brief sense of relief. You decided that you were ready to just go back to sleep, and just as you pulled your blanket up to crawl back underneath it- you almost jumped.

It was a voice, faintly audible outside your window. You didn't even process it until a few seconds after, a barely legible, strained whisper.

"I heard you praying."

You froze. A cold wave shot right to your stomach. Slowly, agonisingly so, you turned around to face your bedroom window.

A tall figure stood outside, its hands clasped together similarly to how you just had a few minutes ago. With long, flowing white robes and silver, wavy locks that reached down to his shoulders, he looked... Ethereal. Not to mention the massive, pure white wings folded neatly behind his back. His head blocked out the full moon, the light creating something almost like a halo around him, making him appear even more angelic.

"Woah."

You couldn't help the little gasp of awe. He seemed to find it amusing, his grin spreading a little too wide for comfort. Admittedly, you almost doubted if he even was an alternate at all. Maybe you'd come out a person of faith yourself, after this.

"Are you... An alternate?"

You whispered hesitantly, quiet enough to try to conceal the trembling in your voice and also not alert your parents sleeping upstairs, though you weren't sure if he actually heard you at all.

He didn't respond for a moment, tempting you to ask again, before that inhuman whisper was heard again.

"You called for me, and now I am here."

Avoiding your question, huh. Suppose he was an elusive sort. You quickly glanced around your room, eyeing the door in particular just in case; you really hoped your parents were asleep.

"May I... Come closer?"

You couldn't even recall the last time you were this polite to someone, though it was your best bet not to piss him off while he was still friendly, if you could even call it that. You had no point of reference, though he wasn't actively trying to harm you, so it was a start.

The angel, his smile unwavering, simply nodded, waving his arm in an invitation to approach.

It took a moment for you to will your body to move from the initial shock, but with slow, careful steps you moved to open the window to properly speak to him, a pleasant cool breeze inviting itself into your room.

"So... What's your name?"

Did alternates have names? Suppose they just took on the name of whoever they were trying to mimic. You leaned onto the window frame, trying to catch a good look at his face; and for the first time in god knows how long you were met with eyes that, albeit a bit creepy and lifeless, looked back into your own with an unfamiliar lack of hostility.

"You may call me Gabriel, child."

Gabriel? That name sounded familiar- Oh! The Saint Gabriel's church at the edge of town. Suppose that made sense, given his angelic appearance, if it wasn't just one morbid coincidence. Your thoughts and scrutinizing stare dragged on for a bit longer than you were aware of, though, as his voice pulled your attention back to him.

"Are you lost, my lamb? I can save you. Let me in. Let me into your mind."

The last bit seemed a bit more... Pushy than the rest, making your stomach feel just a little heavier. You gathered your thoughts anyway, trying to push that feeling aside for now. You did do this for a reason, after all, though now that he was actually here you were starting to second guess things.

Gabriel seemed to take note of your hesitation after a while of you not responding.

"Open your eyes, my lost little one. Look at me. I can grant you anything you wish for. You just need to let me in."

An odd mix of dread and comfort you'd never felt before settled in, and the feeling was almost... Refreshing, in a way. You quickly glanced back up at him, and he was still staring at you, ever so patiently, eerily.

"Uhm... I was just- well, it's probably kind of silly."

No backing out now, not when he was already here. Even if you wanted to, you don't think he'd let you go so easily. As you verbally stumbled over your own thoughts, he simply waited, his unblinking eyes staring into you, gouging out your soul. Or so it felt.

"I just thought... Is it possible for, well... Is there a chance for humans to be able to ally with alternates? Can I join you?"

Surprisingly, that got his smile to falter, if only a little bit. A flicker of emotion you couldn't quite explain showed in his eyes- surprise, perhaps, or consideration.

"What for, my child?"

That uncanny whisper of his never gave away any emotion, monotone and unfeeling, yet not unfriendly. Admittedly, his question made you pause; you hadn't exactly thought of how to explain this to him. You hadn't even expected him to show up at all.

Fidgeting nervously, unsure of whether to tell him the truth or not, you tried to think of what to say. Despite your rationality screaming at you for being an utter moron, you knew you were in too deep at this point.

"I don't think I'm any good to these people at all anymore, I just... don't know what to do anymore. With myself. I have nowhere else to go. And, maybe..."

You weren't sure if you should say it or not, you already let more vulnerability slip than you wanted to. But your spite driven words were quicker than your brain, and man did it feel good to open up for once.

"...maybe for revenge, also."

Gabriel listened to you surprisingly attentively, very interested in your words. At your last statement, he perked up with an almost malicious twist to his grin. Before he could respond, though, you suddenly heard the sound of your parents creaky old bedroom door and footsteps from upstairs. And you could tell by the sound of them that it was your mother. And she was pissed.

For a very panic filled moment you weren't sure what to do, your thoughts racing- instincts called for you to jump into bed and pretend you were asleep like you usually would... but with Gabriel here, you couldn't- and that's when you realized you really only had two real options.

Stay here, and continue living this miserable life, and also deal with the imminent outburst of your mother.

Or go with him, and then... Well, nothing and no one could possibly guarantee what would happen to you then.

"Choose wisely, my dear lamb."

Your dilemma seemed to be rather palpable to the "saviour" as he pulled you out of that mental spiral, and you were rather grateful for it. As much as it made you nauseous with uncertainty and anxiety, you finally snapped out of that paralysis and turned towards the window.

"Please, help me. This is the only favor I'll ever ask of you. I will do anything you want in return, I promise."

You began to plead in an urgent, hissed whisper, practically leaning out of the window, causing him to take a step back.

Desperation and panic shook your words as you glanced back at your bedroom door.

"Get me out of here."

He chuckled, an amused sound mixed with something you couldn't quite explain that made you feel more fuzzy than you'd care to admit.

"Come. Come to me, my child. Step outside."

For the first time tonight hesitation became a foreign concept as you practically leapt out that window. Your bare feet felt the cold gravel beneath, just in time as the door to your room swung open.

The angered yelling of your mother were drowned out by the feeling of suddenly being lifted off the ground, Gabriel taking you up into his arms like your weight was akin to a feather.

He was cold, lifelessly so. And yet the soft silken robes, the way he held you in his arms, and his deceitfully promising whispers were lulling you into a sense of security you hadn't felt in a long, long time.

"A lost little lamb, asking their shepherd for guidance..."

His eerie, yet strangely comforting laugh filled your ears once more over the noise of your mother not yet realizing you weren't in your bed. You're surprised she wasn't hearing him at all. Maybe it was another mind game of his.

"You made the right decision. I knew you would. Such a smart, yet scared little thing you are, are you not?"

You leaned your head against his chest, sighing deeply, beginning to forget what you were ever doubtful about during the start of this whole fiasco. Your weight began to sink into his arms as you relaxed. He held you a little tighter in turn.

"Of course I shall guide you, my child. Come with me; you will be mine. You will be safe."

Just as the furious woman realized to check the opened window, Gabriel vanished as swiftly as he appeared, leaving behind the sight of nothing but an empty garden, peacefully quiet, as if you were never there.

[bittasol]

clarazz are so strong if i was (vaguely in love with and) slightly possessive of my best friend and the whole world was obsessed with him (like i was) id crash out 😭

[alexandriaellisart]

So now i have migraines apparently 😭

[scarycranegame]

thinking about. transfems. and trans girls. and how cool they are.. literally if you're a tgirl or girl-adjacent transgender person i want you to know that. you are so wonderful and beautiful and kind and talented.. we need you on this site now more than ever, and im so sorry about literally everything that's happened here. none of you deserve to be treated like this; you deserve so much better, and i'm sincerely hoping that other people (especially people with power to instate significant change that affects a lot of people) will understand this and work towards making this a safer platform for all of you. please don't let anything that's happening right now on this literal hellsite make you think that you're any less than amazing; i love all of you so so so much <333 please stay safe out there!!!

[vaguely-concerned]

I just *clenches fist with tears in my eyes* love the grand necropolis so much

[vile-wizard]

Sex and food

[stretchingeverynerve]

my good friend had a cursed baru cormorant dream that needs to be shared with tumblr but they don't have a tumblr so here are the texts they sent me:

i dreamed that baru cormorant has been captured and is being kept in a sort of gilded and relatively easeful captivity - in fact, she has been assigned to oversee the forced labor of a bunch of other prisoners. she is even allowed to take vacations.

tain hu comes to see her. they sit at a table and tain hu is like, "you know, when yr managing the forced labor of prisoners you're lenient with them bc you can't bear to face the reality of the power you have over them. yr constantly giving them the false impression that they're doing fine twds their work quotas. but you know, when you jaunt off on your vacations, they're getting brutally punished."

baru looks at her. her face does a variety of things but ultimately she can't bear to reckon with the consequences of her actions. "well," she says, "let's...drink to that?" and starts pouring herself a drink. "it's torture," says tain hu, daring baru to look her crimes in the eye.

the camera zooms in on baru's face. she blinks through her long dark bangs, she tries to spin this in some way that renders her innocent, she pushes her dark hair aside from her annoying, tortured, girlish face in a gesture reminiscent of — of — my god.

she's jenny schechter from the L Word

[peppermintstarsonamintyway]

feast dark choco nation, feast

ough, da husband

so soft, so comfy

I'll draw a version of him with a blanket and some hot coco later but for now enjoy your hubby @xaytheloser

I could not tell you why I decided to give him considerably longer hair in this image but like screw it man he's adorable and boy howdy do he be lookin' like his papa (I have no complaints about that I fuckin' love Cacao-)

[marvelous-spirit]

It’s just very interesting to me how wrong the people are who worked on Veilguard and I’m actually ignoring whatever shit they said in that AMA 🤷‍♀️

I huff copium for fun baybeeeeeee I’m making my own lore now.

[lunarharp]

you can now buy my little orufrey zine i made!

a 36 page, b&w a5 amateur zine made up of orufrey art i've drawn this year so far. alone is £6 + shipping and they can also come with a mini print add-on, a 4x6 photo print for £8.50 total.

the first 6 orders will come with a free official bromide :)

[acourtofquestions]

"You'll come back," Manon said.

It sounded like more of a threat than anything

Dorian smirked. "Would you miss me if I didn't?"

Manon didn't reply. He didn't know why he expected her to.

He'd taken all of a step, when Asterin clasped his shoulder. "In and out, quick as you can," she warned him. "Take care of Narene." Worry indeed shone in the Second's gold-flecked black eyes. Dorian bowed his head. "With my life," he promised as he approached her mount and grasped the dangling reins. He didn't fail to miss the gratitude that softened Asterin's features. Or that Manon had already turned away from him.

A fool to start down this path with her. He should have known better.

The hours that passed were some of the longest of Manon's existence.

From anticipation, she told herself. Of what she had to do.

Abraxos, unsurprisingly, found them within an hour, his reins sliced from the struggle he'd no doubt waged and won with Sorrel. He waited, however, beside Manon in silence, wholly focused upon the gate where Dorian and Narene had vanished.

Time dripped by. The king's sword was constant weight at her side. She cursed herself for needing to prove-to him, to herself-that she refused to let him go into Morath for practical, ordinary reasons. Erawan wasn't at the Ferian Gap. It'd be safer. Somewhat. But if the Matrons were there … That was why he'd gone. To learn if they were. To see if Petrah truly commanded the host there, and how many Ironteeth were present. He had not been trained as a spy, but he'd grown up in a court where people wielded smiles and clothes like weapons. He knew how to blend in, how to listen. How to make people see what they wished to see. She'd sent Elide into the dungeons of Morath, Darkness damn her. Sending the King of Adarlan into the Ferian Gap was no different.

It didn't stop her breath from escaping when Abraxos stiffened, scanning the sky. As if he heard something they couldn't.

And it was the joy that sparked in her mount's eyes that told her.

Moments later, Narene sailed toward them, making a lazy path over the mountains, a dark-haired, pale-skinned rider atop her. He'd truly been able to change parts of himself. Had made his face nearly unrecognizable. And kept it that way.

Asterin rushed toward the mare, and even Manon blinked as her Second threw her arms around Narene's neck. Holding her tight. The mare only leaned her head against Asterin's back and huffed.

Manon hadn't dwelled long on what she'd say.

And as the three hundred Ironteeth witches filed into the hall, some coming off their patrols, Manon half wondered if she should have. They watched her, watched the Thirteen, with a wary disdain.

Their disgraced Wing Leader; their fallen Heir.

When all were gathered, Petrah, still standing in the doorway where she'd appeared, merely said, "My life debt for an audience, Blackbeak."

Manon swallowed, her tongue as dry as paper. Seated atop Abraxos, she could see every shifting movement in the crowd, the wide eyes or hands gripping swords.

"I will not tell you the particulars of who I am," Manon said at last. "For I think you have already heard them."

"Crochan bitch," someone spat.

Manon set her eyes on the Blackbeaks, stone-faced where the others bristled with hatred. It was for them she spoke, for them she had come here.

jacket, then hoisting up her white shirt. Rising in the stirrups to bare her scarred, brutalized abdomen. "She does not lie."

UNCLEAN

There, the word remained stamped. Would always be stamped.

"How many of you," Asterin called out, "have been similarly branded? By your Matron, by your coven leader? How many of you have had your stillborn witchlings burned before you might hold them?"

The silence that fell now was different from before. Shaking shuddering.

Manon glanced at the Thirteen to find tears in Ghislaine's eyes as she took in the brand on Asterin's womb. Tears in the eyes of all of them, who had not known. And it was for those tears, which Manon had never seen, that she faced the host again.

"You will be killed in this war, or after it. And you will never see our homeland again."

"What is it that you want, Blackbeak?" Petrah asked from the archway.

"Ride with us," Manon breathed. "Fly with us.

Against Morath. Against the people who would keep you from your homeland, your future." Murmuring broke out again. Manon pushed ahead, "An Ironteeth-Crochan alliance. Perhaps one to break our curse at last."

Again, that shuddering silence. Like a storm about to break Asterin sat back in the saddle, but kept her shirt open.

"The choice of how our people's future shall be shaped is yours," Manon told each of the witches assembled, all the Blackbeaks who might fly to war and never return. "But I will tell you this." Her hands shook, and she fisted them on her thighs. "There is a better world out there. And I have seen it."

Even the Thirteen looked toward her now.

"I have seen witch and human and Fae dwell together in peace. And it is not weakness to do so, but a strength. I have met kings and queens whose love for their kingdoms, their peoples, is so great that the self is secondary. Whose love for their people is so strong that even in the face of unthinkable odds, they do the impossible."

Manon lifted her chin. "You are my people. Whether my grandmother decrees it so or not, you are my people, and always will be. But I will fly against you, if need be, to ensure that there is a future for those who cannot fight for it themselves. Too long have we preyed on the weak, relished doing so. It is time that we became better than our foremothers." The words she had given the Thirteen months ago. "There is a better world out there," she said again. "And I will fight for it." She turned Abraxos away, toward the plunge behind them. "Will you?"

Manon nodded to Petrah. Eyes bright, the Heir only nodded back. They would be permitted to leave as they had arrived: unharmed.

So Manon nudged Abraxos, and he leaped into the sky, the Thirteen following suit.

Not a child of war. But of peace.

[fortunatelychaoticphantom]

So apparently the "Jesus was Palestinian" bullshit is doing its rounds again, continuing the proud tradition of that fucking pink infograph from May '21 that claimed "the first Christians were Palestinians". I'm not going to go over why this is a load of racist antisemitic a-historical crap, I've already done so in the past (one, two, three, four, though I do feel I could explain it better today... but I'm not gonna do that). But I do believe we need to talk about this a little more. Not about the content of the claims, which is so unbelievably easy to refute by reading literally the first paragraph of a couple of Wikipedia articles, but the reason for the existence of the claims themselves and their structure.

We have to ask ourselves why do people need Christianity in general and Jesus specifically to be tied to the Palestinian identity and what the hell does this have to do with the I/P conflict at all? Because, here's the thing; the topic is the I/P conflict, this is our framework. And yet while talking about a war currently being waged, about cease fires and humanitarian aid, about a massacre and hostages, about politics and ideologies, out of fucking nowhere one side of the debate just throws this claim - "yeah, well Jesus was Palestinian!" / "The first Christians were Palestinians!". You might ask yourself what the actual fuck are they talking about. I mean, I could throw random sentences too, it just wouldn't be a very effective conversation, would it? So why are they saying it now in this context?

Let's go back to that OG pink infograph, because I do think it's the most revealing. "The first Christians were Palestinians". This is an equation - x equals y, first Christians = Palestinians. First is important here, it speaks of precedence, of date. Christianity as a whole and Jesus in particular are an incredibly convenient thing to date historically. They are also very ancient. This is about establishing an ancient anchor to the Palestinian identity.

But the sentence isn't actually complete, is it? There's something missing from it. A silent part at the end of it - "the first Christians were Palestinians, as opposed to Jews". This is the context. This is, and always was, about denying the history of the Jewish people. It's literally an attempt at erasing Jewishness from history itself and replacing it with a New and Improved one that is Western-Leftist Approved.

This is the single saddest thing I've ever heard in my goddam life. What they're saying, what they're actually saying, is that the Palestinian plight, suffering and right for self determination only exist if their identity is ancient enough. Ideally - more ancient than that unbelievably annoying people who won't shut up about how ancient they are. What they're saying with their "post-colonial" rotten brains, with their cruelty and their absolute wickedness, is that suffering is only worth acknowledging and fighting if it neatly fits their "colonizer/colonized" dichotomy world view. Palestinians have no right in the leftist world unless: 1) their identity is ancient enough for them to join the oppressed club, 2) the Jews' identity isn't.

And it is just so unbelievably funny. Again, I'm not going to repeat the explanation of what "Palestina" actually is, you can read my previous posts about that. What I do have to say is just how unfathomably historically funny it is to me, not just as a Jewish woman but more importantly as an archaeologist of the Ancient Near East, that they would use a Jewish man preaching Jewish things to Jewish people in the remnants of the Jewish kingdom of Judea, almost a thousand years after its establishment, barley more than a century before its final destruction and the end of Jewish autonomy in their ancestral homeland for the next almost two millennia, to establish an ancient anchor for Palestinian identity.

And by the way, when I said that Jesus and Christianity are "very" ancient - I lied. I can't begin to explain to you how "new" that is to an archaeologist of the Ancient world. I literally haven't seen the other side of the zero in like a decade. So, on top of what I said in my previous posts, along with many other people online, the thing that is even more fucking funny is how every evidence we have for the origin of the word (just the word! not the identity! which didn't exist yet!!!!) "Palestina" positions it in the Greeks' hands around 500 BCE, which is still almost 500 years after the establishment of Judea. Can you do basic math?? Can you fucking do it???

You Westerners (and non-Westerners and Palestinians to be perfectly clear) want us so badly to be foreign invaders who stole precious lands from poor little woobified natives, but we're fucking not. You are incapable of holding more than one fucking thought in your tiny little rotten minds so you try to change history, to change reality itself to fit your warped perception of the world. You do that because you hate Jews, not because you give even a tiny little shit about Palestinians. Because you don't, and you prove that every single day with every single lie that comes out of your mouth.

We are at war for maybe more than a century at this point. They killed my people, they butchered them, they literally live on the ruins of my ancestors. But I care about them because I care about everyone in the world and I am capable of looking beyond my own rights (which fucking exist) and recognize that my enemies are just as human and deserving of life and joy and safety as me. I don't need them to be more ancient than me to recognize their grief, their suffering, their right for self determination, because apparently I have a fucking heart and a working brain, something I genuinely can no longer say about most of you.

[to-the-batcomputer]

ok isn't batman a protector. isn't a big part of his whole thing the preciousness of life. and isn't robin (all of them, but THE FIRST ONE esp) an extension of the things bruce believes? they're a team. and haven't they dealt with people who are in crisis thousands of times. AND WASNT DICK GRAYSON A COP.

THEN EXPLAIN TO ME THE TITANS SCENE WITH JASON ON THE ROOFTOP