#lol you're so silly

[nepotisim]

i just realized your username is a sims pun on the word "nepotism" 😐

LMAO! Surprise! The username I had before this one was Unsimscribe, a pun on unsubscriber.

If it makes you feel any better, I did this same thing @sim4areason a couple weeks ago!

I am curious tho, what did you think it meant? 😝

[alicornze7]

AvM fandom is this accurate-

(pls don't burn me at the stake)

[skrunksthatwunk]

GIRLFRIENDS POST-UHAUL (uhaul the second, i guess)

[sysig]

*You’re starting to feel very sleepy... (Patreon)

[emily-e-draws]

catventurers meowlphabet (first half) 😽✨

[shannonsketches]

[kikidews-scrapbook]

towards the setting sun

[hiding-under-the-willow]

A little go at @andaboop 's draw this in your style :]

[somegrumpynerd]

I read your post about if nightmare gives up his boys & my heart was aching so badly ;w;

Dadmare want what's best for his boys 😭

He does!! As much as he hates to admit it, they mean the world to him and he wants them all to be happy. Not only because of what they've done for him in helping him not hate the world anymore, but after all they've been through themselves.

Even if it meant he wouldn't see them anymore, he couldn't stand the idea that he was hurting them by keeping them trapped with him y'know? If you love somebody you have to let them go and be free. But also, maybe he could come and visit sometimes if they moved out? Or they could visit him? Please 🥺

Thankfully it doesn't come to that though, they like staying outside the castle sometimes for a little break but none of them plan on leaving, it's what they all consider home <3

Or, as Dust would put it if Nightmare asked, "we haven't paid rent in like 6 years, what kind of idiot would move out??"

[seabeck]

It does concern me that only just a bit ago the pit bull discussions were going around... and now we're talking about shared DNA, breeders, and Embark?

When you see purebred dogs are you fine with it?

I'm genuinely just asking your opinion, I'm not trying to say you are wrong. However, my concerns are throwing up some big eugenics red flags

Yes purebred dogs, bred by ethical breeders who do health testing, are great. Those dogs are less likely to have health and behavioral issues and they don't end up in shelters. Also not all dog jobs are suited to all dogs. If you're looking for a herding dog or a hunting dog, that random mutt from a shelter probably won't cut it

Eugenics is a human thing, I think you may just be looking for red flags and as a result seeing them places they're not

[a-lonely-dunedain]

ok question! related to this post by @gwynbleiddyn that I see resonated with the folks here on lotro tumblr:

the devs have given you permission to add 1 (one) quest of your design into the game, specifically doing something fun/low-stakes with one or more Rangers post-war. What are you doing and with which Ranger(s)?

I'll go first: (under the cut bc it got longer than intended)

Corunir has been enlisted to help do repairs in the lower circles of Minas Tirith. And by "enlisted" I mean "Corunir Does Not Know How to Take A Break and needs to be constantly helping people, so he showed up wouldn't leave until the foreman gave him something to do"

Now, as this quest would have to be located in Minas Tirith Midsummer, the foreman is not particularly comfortable saddling this war-hero with busywork when he should be celebrating the end of the war he helped bring about! nevermind that that's what literally every other quest in midsummer is making the PC do shh don't worry about it

ANYWAY, he's got a plan, but he needs your help with it. Around dusk, he wants you to tell Corunir that there's some repairs that need done on the top of the wall at east side of the 2rd circle, which coincidentally just so happens to be where the best view of the fireworks they're setting off at the gates is. Also be sure to bring along this plate of snacks and some comfy pillows to sit on.

so when Corunir gets up there he's like "that's weird, I don't see any damage up here-" and then he sees the fireworks starting to go off, that you brought snacks, and puts two and two together and is like "oh darn, it looks like I've been tricked into watching a fireworks show, you devious trickster you (affectionate)"

so you guys get to hang out and watch the fireworks for a bit, and afterwards Corunir laughs at the fact that you literally had to trick him into relaxing and having a good time. Perhaps you have a point, he should allow himself some time to actually enjoy the peace they fought so hard for. He recalls Radanir had proposed the Rangers should do a pub-crawl later, and now thinks he should take him up on the offer. (and, of course, the PC should be allowed to join in, but alas I'm only allowed to add One quest as per my own rules lol)

[5hehzada]

was talking w ree about lelouch's casual outfit and was like hold up but the cropped red jacket paired with a black tank is reminding me of something. and so,

[celtrist]

Why does Vassago already have merch, we haven't even met him yet

[sysig]

So much experimenting to be done, where to even start (Patreon)

[anirritant]

(This a continuation of previous events found here and here. Also uhh this got longer than I thought and a bit edgier than I planned oops....)

(TW for mentions of torture and murderous intent I guess??? my guy is less-than-hinged lmao. it doesn't go too in-depth)

Okay. Darkrai... hadn't expected this, but, he can't say he doesn't understand how the other him was acting. He knows now that he'd been too hasty in his excitement, babbling and possibly coming across as, well, mildly deranged. He'd usually have more tact, okay? He's had a terribly long day filled with scheming and manipulating and battling and, ahem, acting. As well as a particularly turbulent travel through time, to top off everything else. Could you blame him for slipping a bit when he hasn't been permitted any rest?

So, yes, he certainly may have come across as rather off-putting. Depending on just how far in the past he's been sent, this version of him may not have even thought of messing with time yet, making his claims seem rather out-of-nowhere. Or, the other may believe him to be an illusionary impostor, not being experienced enough to easily see through those cheap tricks (that are, of course, not cheap when used by himself,) like he can now.

He knew exactly why the other reacted like this -- centuries of being endlessly backstabbed would lead anyone to being quite distrustful, and clearly those centuries are fresh memories for his previous self. Centuries more had it taken to refine his ability to pick out truths from deception, and he's led to believe that the other lacks those many latter years of experience.

Though, even extensive experience in detecting a lack of untruths may not've have been enough to mitigate suspicion. If he had been met by his future self who fervently divulged plans to team up for world domination, he'd be ecstatic! Which, of course, would lead straight into suspicion because nothing ever goes his way like that. It'd sound too good to be true. So, yes, he can understand.

But that didn't make it any less irritating and demeaning. Him, HIM, elicitor of nightmares and despair, being dragged about by his hair like an unruly hatchling!? If it weren't necessary to prove he's on the other's side, (if he weren't too injured to fight back,) he'd be tearing the insolent fool to shreds!

As it is, he flails and shrieks indignantly.

"What are you DOING!?", he cries, grabbing at the claws entangled in his hair, "We're on the same side! We have the same goals -- or, well, they aren't your goals yet, but they will be!"

The other simply ignores him and continues pulling him along as he defiantly rakes his legs into the dirt in an ineffective attempt to slow them both. The other glares at the sight of the ruined grass left in their trail but says nothing, continuing to drag him towards the edge of the island, in the opposite direction of the larger landmass. Towards the closer island he'd spotted before.

Ignoring him... Ignoring him!? The nerve--! Had he truly possessed such arrogance in his youth!?

... Well. Don't answer that.

He still hasn't stopped sputtering and ranting even after they've left the land behind and begun traversing the water, forcing him to begin floating as well lest he get his legs wet. And his past self still hasn't said anything! He'd find the self-restraint admirable and compliment himself for it -- the other's accomplishments are his accomplishments, after all -- if it weren't utterly infuriating! He should be using this time allowing his strength to return and concocting a new plan for a global apocalypse, not... this!

Feeling exceptionally petty, he abruptly stops supporting his own weight around three minutes into their traversal over water. He'd been remarkably agreeable so far, he'd say, but he's reached his limit. If his past self was so intent on ignoring his words, and so intent on dragging him who-knows-where, then the other can support the weight of both of them. Hmph.

Next thing he knew, he was being dunked into the water.

He coughed and spat and gagged and wheezed as he shot himself upwards, only to get rudely yanked back down by the hair again. The other had finally paused their journey, and instead was... laughing! At HIM! No, he's had enough, he cannot let this slide! He is the other's senior by centuries, he is the authority here, he would NOT be laughed at!

"You... Y-you--!!" He cut himself off as he started violently heaving again, producing even more laughter from the other.

His breathing became ragged and harsh, a low, animalistic growl ripping from his throat. His claws clenched so hard it was painful and he suspected he had drawn blood, but he didn't care to check.

Now. Darkrai had had a very long, very tiring, exhausting, humiliating, wretched day. But he'd weaseled his way out of it, he thought. He'd gotten out alive, he was somewhere away from those that would've ended him, somewhere even he hadn't recognised, somewhere they would be very hard-pressed to find. Somewhere to rest, regain his strength, and plan another attempt.

Even better, he found who he was certain would be an ally to him. Who better to team up with than himself? No one else would ever understand the unbridled hate bubbling away inside him, no one else would ever share a desire for his ideal world, he'd accepted that and decided long ago that he simply didn't quite care about what others thought.

But now he had someone that would understand, right? Someone he could talk to, right? Someone he could rule the world alongside, right? Someone to treat him with respect for once in his horrid, cursed existence? Right?

So why, why, even now, is humiliation still all he ever endures?

In mere seconds his fury had turned downright murderous. He'd tried explaining himself, he'd avoided violence, he'd tried what amounts to his version of being nice, simply because he was dealing with his own immature self. But his efforts were ignored, and he was reduced to something to laugh at. Of course. Of course! It's nothing new, is it!? Nothing ever changes. Nothing, nothing, nothing. No respect for Darkrai, never ANY respect for Darkrai!

The abrupt urge to kill the prompter of that infernal chorus of phantom laughter echoing in his head was overwhelming. Were it any other being in existence his rage was directed towards, he would have, right there, right now. His claws were trembling, not from the sopping cold, but from the sheer effort it took to not clamp them around that neck and squeeze.

But he cannot. That would have disastrous consequences for himself, and he couldn't have that. And that's fine. Yes, that's fine. Fine.

Because he has a better idea. A much, much better idea.

A delirious calm washes over him. Yes, it's okay that he can't strangle the other to death, you see? His past, young, silly self simply needs guidance. Needs to be taught respect, needs to have the grave error pointed out, needs to recognise the difference in power, the inferiority to him.

There's a proven formula for this. Proven to him, and then by him, again and again and again over his several-millennia-long existence. It always proves true, always, that the only reliable path to respect is to instil sheer, abject terror.

He cannot truly kill the other, but, in his domain, in a nightmare? He can kill, over, and over, and over again. He's done so countless times, in the most creative of ways, and he never grew sick of it. He'd go on and on and on, until his victims lose the energy to scream, and then still on and on some more. He hasn't hated enough to subject a victim to such torment in a while. He'll savour every second...

The other will try to wrench control away from him, he's certain. Drawing upon the same power, attempting to loosen his iron grip, and failing miserably in a way that cements his place at the top. He is older, he is better, more experienced, superior. He will make it happen. He will. He will.

The other has long-since stopped laughing even as the phantom chorus continues, and is instead eyeing him with confusion and a touch of concern. Hah. Hahah. A bit late for that, he thinks.

With a wheezed, stuttering chuckle of his own, he summons the beginnings of his Dark Void to his claws, already vividly picturing just how he'd go about splintering a mind to pieces this time around. A bit of physical torture, then psychological torment, followed by some obliteration of the sense of self -- that was always so very funny to watch, hah, hah...

...

Why was the world spinning?

He hadn't noticed, too absorbed in his vengeful thoughts, but the summoned Dark Void had barely flickered into existence before weakly petering out. He simply didn't have the strength. The exhaustion, the injuries, a jet-lag equivalent for portal travel, and a touch of possible hypothermia had combined to make him quite frail and ill, and the attempt to draw upon his power only sapped away at what little strength remained.

He was teetering in the air even though he was still being held up by its claws, his eyes unfocused as his body shivered and dripped. The other now felt bad for laughing -- he was clearly much less well than he had seemed. Is that why he had stopped maintaining his own hover, before? They had assumed it was a spiteful act and had therefore allowed him to fall... now they felt really bad.

Why hadn't he just said he was unwell?

Pride, its thoughts hummed immediately. If anything was clear about this supposed "future self" of theirs, it was that he was self-absorbed to a comical degree, and utterly seethed when he wasn't the one in control. He was... well, rather foul and unlikeable and very untrustworthy; the mere thought of him insisting the two of them were the same was skin-crawling. But he was unwell, all the same.

The Darkrai that was not on the brink of collapse looked to the distant island, still quite a ways away. Around two hours if one was travelling alone, but if, say, one had to carry around an unconscious double of themself, it'd be quite a lot longer and more exhausting.

With a sigh, they came to a decision. It wouldn't be ideal treatment, but there was a small stash of medical supplies available, if they returned. It would've been much more preferable to visit Cresselia sooner, but it seems that these ailments need addressing immediately rather than after over two hours of travel. So, for now, a careful Hypnosis lulls the injured to sleep as they carry him back to Newmoon Island.

He'd been so out of it that he hadn't noticed to protest... rather sad.

And, no, the look of murderous rage and the feeble attempt to use Dark Void had not gone unnoticed. A cautionary Disable was cast as well.

[kor0kke]

I was unsure if post a drawing I did or old stuff, but I'm working on other doodles and I wanna post all at once so... 😁😁

A pretty old mini comic(? I did :)) the drawings ain't the best but I like the idea so much 😭😭😭 probably one of fav pieces ever lollzz

Might redraw someday tho idk

WAUGHHHHHHHH EPICEXPLOSION