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#anyways ill shut up
9474s0ul · 1 year
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I forgot to share these
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journen · 2 years
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@codywanweek Day 5: Purge Trooper
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jocelynmakenna · 1 year
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Sorry just thinking about how in dimension 20 the entire plot of neverafter is built around fate and destiny and what to do when you don't have a grasp on your own story. And how critical role is dealing with the villains trying to kill the gods and fate so mortals can be free.
Idk it's just a cool parallel.
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artisticgr3mlin · 1 year
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just a silly lil drawing of William kissing his homie Maverick goodnight (William belongs to @curdled-blood)
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dylan-blake9 · 1 year
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How y'all look complaining about plantasm:
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homoeroticvillain · 2 years
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dude i fr feel so cringe making plans for my future
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ermwhatsup · 2 months
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the ides of march starting to trend on march 1st is like the tumblr equivalent of those people who start listening to christmas music on november 1st
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acarillustrated · 5 months
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thinking about mizu from blue eye samurai. thinking. thinking so much. thinking about how mizu operates outside of gender. like we joke about her gender being revenge but straight up? it literally is. like she grew up as a boy and is most comfortable being a man, but behind that is the feeling of betraying himself because he isn't being honest about who he is and he lives in fear of being discovered. and when he lived as a woman, she found joy there as well. she fell in love, and though she wasn't good at it, she liked being a wife and enjoying a simple life. but in that life too, she isn't being honest about who she is. and when she reveals her true self, it's not a woman, she's a demon, a weapon. she's to masculine to be a woman, and too feminine to be a man. ultimately, mizu is most comfortable when they are being a murder machine. that's when they feel they are being the most true to themself. like a sword, they are neither man nor woman, but a blend of both, which makes them stronger.
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dungeonmechoui · 2 months
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Unprofessional yuri save me.. save me unprofessional yuri.. (image description in alt text)
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lovesickeros · 8 months
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☆ even the gods bleed
{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood, injury, light angst {☆} word count 2.3k
What was justice?
Focalors had asked herself that question many times during the long nights she spends awake pouring over the prophecy of a dead God, words replaying in her mind like a broken record until the sun rose like a blooming flower.
She was the God of Justice, an Archon, yet she herself lacked the answer to such a simple and yet so very complex question.
How does one define what is just and what is not? How does she know that what she believes to be just is right? Is it justice if one being alone may sway the scales of justice on a whim? What justice is there to be found in the cold, watery grave that awaits her nation?
She does not know.
Perhaps she may never know.
What she does know, at least, is that this is not justice.
It is a mockery of it.
She stands before the bloodied, broken body like the judge, her sword held so tightly in her hand her fingers feel stiff, a dull ache adding to the weight of what she's seen. For a long, horrible moment she almost thinks they are dead – something she would have reveled in, only a day prior – before she sees the subtle rise and fall of their chest. Breathing, but barely.
The rain felt heavier upon her shoulders at the realization – she was not sure if it was in relief or horror.
Her nails dig into her palm, mind stuck somewhere between that abject horror and confusion so palpable she swore she could hear the gears in her head turning.
For a long, silent moment as she stares upon the body beneath the heavy rain..she wonders if this is how it all ends instead. If the world itself will simply crumple in on itself and cease – without its heart, it will wither, after all – long before the waters ever swallow her nation whole.
Because, try as she might to rationalize it, for every drop of rain that hits her like pins and needles, soaking her down to the bone..the body of the imposter is completely dry. Even the water pooling along the stones dares not to leave so much as a splotch against their ragged, torn clothes.
She remembers the meeting so very clearly, and she thinks she is a fool to not have noticed sooner – the Creator upon their gilded throne, finger pointed in accusation at the visage far too similar to their own. The imposter. She remembers the lilt of their voice as they called for their death as easily as one would speak of the weather – and to no one other then herself would she admit the spark of fear it had ignited within her. Because beneath the divine charade there was a sick enjoyment in the way they looked upon the imposter – like a bug beneath their shoe.
She understands, now.
She had thought that perhaps finally – finally – she could do right by her people, by her Creator, if she rid Teyvat of this..intrusion.
Now she sees herself as what it all really is – blind lambs following the herder.
Perhaps she would be considered a heretic under the eyes of the law – beneath the weight of justice, heavy as the heart that bears its sins. Perhaps this is a mistake, one she would come to regret.
But for now, she sheathes her blade with unsteady hands, the sound making her ears ring – for what she had almost done, what she had already done – as she stumbles like a newborn lamb towards the broken body of..
..What, exactly? Human? Divine? She is not so sure what to call them. Creator? No. The name is bitter upon her tongue, now, burning like liquid flame down her throat.
Where once she had spoken it in reverence and admiration, it felt hollow and empty, now.
Her vision wavers as she kneels down against the rain soaked stones, the rain upon her back growing heavier as she reaches a shaky hand forth – and for a moment, however brief, she feels the weight of expectation, of a title she fears she may never live up to, wash away with the waters that fall from the heavens.
The bruises and blood smeared across their skin are like strokes of a paintbrush, their body the canvas from which such horrid art is created. It makes her ill.
Doubt wavers her composure briefly – her position is already unsteady. She has never been seen as an equal to many of the other Archons. Her own people do not see her as their Archon, but an actor in a grand play that they shall simply toss aside and replace like a broken doll the moment she bores them.
What does she have left to lose?
She reaches out again, her hand settling onto their shoulder and turning them onto their back. She..isn't sure what to do, actually. She's never been particularly physically capable – she tended to avoid fights, even if she oft provoked them – and she was certainly no healer.
Yet what choice does she have but to march on anyway? She is in the heart of the city, it is far more dangerous here then anywhere else..she had little time to make her move.
Fontaine was, after all, a nation founded on the principle of justice. To know an injustice has been made against the most Divine..the entire nation was in a frenzy.
Her eyes dart around nervously, hands clasped tight on their shoulders and her lips drawn into a taut line – someone would notice her absence. One of the Archons would point out her absence in the coordination of the search.
Her options were just as limited as her time – she couldn't just take them out of the city. Security was tight, and as much as she fancied herself an escape artist – Neuvillette could hardly keep her in one place for too long – she doubted she could do the same with the limp body of the imposter in tow.
..The Palais Mermonia it was, then.
Her room had a secret entrance that few knew about, and even fewer would dare to traverse. She just..had to hide them there for a bit and hope Neuvillette wouldn't notice anything different.
Probably.
Still, there was the problem of actually..transporting the body. As grim as it sounded. Her only solace was the fact she didn't have to worry about them catching a cold, at least, and their breaths were still audible, if only barely. So she had to resort to some..unexpected methods.
Seeing the limp form of, well, the imposter – she'd really have to ask for something else to call them when they woke up – stuck in a bubble of hydro wasn't exactly on her bucket list.
Then again, neither was treason.
Well, first time for everything, right?
It wasn't breaking the law if no one else knew about it.
..Neuvillette didn't have to know about it, really. It was fine.
She could, of course, technically try to talk some sense into Neuvillette – he'd listen to her, right? She thought she was pretty close with him..but he was also the one person more obsessed with justice then she was. Such a stickler for the law..so maybe she's breaking a few, it's fine.
But he was also pretty devout, as much as he tried to keep his worship private – with Focalors around, nothing was really secret. Maybe she could get him to settle down long enough to prove it.
..How was she going to prove it?
An exaggerated groan escaped her lips as she led the bubbled imposter – she really wished she didn't have to resort to that, it would be a lot a more awkward to explain then dragging the body around – through the winding streets of Fontaine. She's just glad she's already memorized the entire city like the back of her hand..and a little dramatics went a long way. People listened when the Hydro Archon spoke, and she was suddenly very, very glad for that fact, even if they treated her more like a mascot then a God.
And partially because she, maybe, just a little..stole a few documents detailing the layout and a little personal exploration of her own – but what Neuvillette didn't know couldn't hurt him!
After what felt like hours, though was really no more then half an hour at best, she'd managed to drag herself – soaked to the bone with rain – and the conveniently bubbled imposter up through the secret entrance and into her room.
The perceived safety, as flimsy as it was, was..comforting. Until she heard the rustle of fabric, the clearing of a throat and the pop of a bubble as she, in her surprise, popped it – and then the thud of the imposter hitting the floor.
She felt a bit of regret about that part, at least, wincing.
"Lady Furina." His voice was as sharp and cool as she remembered it always being – like fresh spring water, she'd heard it described. Soothing. It did not feeling very soothing right about now.
She turned sharply on her heel, a forced smile tugging at her lips on reflex, every muscle in her body tensed – she probably looked like a wet cat right about now, soaked with rain, but that was the last thing on her mind.
"Do you mind explaining what, exactly, you did?" Not what you're doing, she notes – what she did. He was mad. Oh, she was really in for a scolding now. She twiddled her thumbs, laughing weakly, though it quickly dies out at the awkward, tense silence.
"Well, you see – it's rather complicated! I can– I can explain." Her attempts to diffuse are met with a raised brow and the sharp tap of his cane. Every single thought is plagued with the urge to run, but the unsteady breathes of the 'imposter' keep her rooted in place. "Well?"
She was sweating bullets, her nails digging into her palm as she scrambled for any excuse that could warrant her not getting hauled off and scolded thoroughly at best – she was coming up empty. How was she supposed to prove that the 'imposter' was very much not what the 'Creator' said they were? Their unconscious body was doing no one any favors, certainly.
"The Creator is lying," She blurts out, immediately regretting her impulsiveness when she feels the sudden weight of his stare – the piercing hues of his eyes that remind her just who is the strongest between them. It is not her, she knows. It never has been. "You can see for yourself! Don't you trust me, Neuvillette–?"
Her voice is cut off by the sharp click of his cane as he strides across the room in only a few steps, his height making her feel like a child about to scolded. She hated it, but she grit her teeth through the exchange. She reminded herself that this was for the sake of the 'imposter' and any affront to her ego was..tolerable.
To her credit, too, she didn't immediately lash out when she saw him poke at their body with his cane, turning them onto their back – she wanted too, though. She considered it, but the thought was quickly shot down when his stare turned back upon her, and she felt frozen in place again, her tongue a heavy weight in her mouth.
Yet she couldn't shake the sudden tenseness to his shoulders, his brows furrowed and a distant look to his eyes. It was..haunting, in a way.
She knows it well, she realizes. The realization and acceptance, the crumbling of every solid foundation you've ever known – leaving you to flounder in the waves, alone and afraid.
The gentleness in which he picks up the limp body surprises her though, his cane set aside. The rain howls like a horrid storm outside, but she cannot focus on anything but the furrow of their brows, the soft noise that escapes their lips.
"I trust that you know that this must stay between us," His voice is soft, like the gentle lap of waves against the shore, as he sets their body down against the bed, his hand lingering against their cheek with something almost like reverence – and if her eyes do not deceive her, affection. "Lady Furina."
She does not hesitate to agree.
"Well– well of course!" She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at the feeling of her wet clothes clinging to her skin, a heavy weight that feels like it's dragging her down. "Just what do you take me for?"
He doesn't deign to respond.
It only makes her fume more.
Not that he seems to notice, unbuttoning his heavy outerwear and tossing it on the bed, rolling up his sleeves and focusing on the injured– er..yeah, she really needed a new name for them. Calling them imposter felt wrong.
"So long as you understand, then we will have no problems." She huffs again, pouting and puffing up her cheeks, sitting down on the other end of the bed with only an occasional glance towards him as he worked at peeling away the ragged clothes and examining the injuries marring their skin.
She suddenly felt out of place.
..What was she supposed to be doing?
As if noticing her sudden quietness, Neuvillette sighed, his back turned to her though his attention very much falling upon her. She really hated the feeling like she was being dissected whenever he looked at her. It was unnerving. She doesn't know how anyone else handles it..
"If you are so eager to do something, Lady Furina, then please have something brought up for when our..guest awakens. They will need to recover their strength."
Finally! Something she can do. She perks up, her heels clicking on the floorboards as she darts out like a bullet, unable to stay still for so much as a moment.
Neuvillette, for his part..
Feels an odd sense of serenity as he stares upon the troubled features of the..guest. A peace that lessens the burdens upon his shoulders, the weight of a nation upon his back.
He cannot hear the rain, anymore.
..It must have stopped.
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axolotlclown · 2 months
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Ok, none of you know what's going on. None of you understand why so many women and young streamers are stepping forward right now. None of you understand why this has to be public.
Multiple large streamers have used their fame, influence, and money to manipulate and abuse those they see as below them. So long as they continue to have fame, influence, and money, this cycle will not end.
This is bigger than just individual cases of sexual assault or other abuse. This is a break down of a much larger problem within the entertainment industry.
These women are telling stories about very powerful men in this space. They are sharing stories of abuse and manipulation. This is very scary for them—it could ruin their careers or lives.
Stop saying "they should have handled this privately." This isn't a private matter. So long as these men have power, they will hurt more women. They aren't sorry. They won't play fair.
By trying to stay silent and bury these accusations, you are ensuring these women never know peace. You are ensuring that more women get hurt.
One day your boss will assault you, and all the men in your life will blame you for waiting as long as you did to speak about it. They will find any reason to blame you. They don't want to get rid of your boss. They hope that one day, they can assault a woman just like you.
This is fucking serious. This is real life. This isn't just some fucking fandom drama that we can bury and move on from. These are real life issues that require real meaningful discussion.
Stop trying to discredit these women just because your streamer is in trouble. You are part of the fucking problem.
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koppaiterocker · 4 months
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No comment
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the-holy-ghosted · 7 months
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congrats 2 henry peglar for being the only bitch confirmed as to be Fucking That Old Man
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macrotiis · 5 months
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I wanna rant a little bit about that last post coz like I have feelings about it.
Reproductive rights are a huge part of feminism, but it's really important that it ISNT "sex-based oppression" bc tying birthing ability to the universal experience of womanhood is actually REALLY FUCKING MISOGYNIST. Like you're rly gonna say that women incapable of having children experience less oppression than those who can?
The bioessentialist idea of "sex-based" oppression is heavily weighed on the idea of a cis woman capable of giving birth to children as the definition of woman as a sex & gender. It is a damaging social construct that harms all who are socially classed as women in some way, regardless of actual gender or actual sex.
Like you realise already that definition of womanhood excludes a huge amount of women? And that it is so untrue to these women's actual experiences of misogyny?
It misses how misogyny treats infertile women regardless of sex as being "broken" because they are unable to fit the social role of womanhood.
It's also just like incorrect to the wider experience of misogyny of women who can have children at certain points in their lives, bc girls & women aren't capable throughout their entire life of having children. But young girls still experience misogyny up until puberty & past that, & misogyny doesn't go away after menopause, in fact menopausal women are treated as undesirable or used goods because they aren't typically capable of having children anymore.
The bottom line to all this is that, there is no one single universal experience of womanhood as a social role beyond just being a woman & you cannot exclude trans women from the experience of misogyny. Misogyny isn't "sex-based", bc sex is socially constructed in a way that does exclude a lot of women.
I rly beg fellow transmasc's & trans men to go out & spend time with trans women, talk to them about misogyny & their experiences with misogyny.
You wouldn't have these weird ass ideas about misogyny if you branched out more & tried to relate to trans women & their experiences with misogyny. It would fix a lot of the misconceptions folks have about radfems, TERFs & transmisogyny. Ppl get too caught up on this idea that TERFs hate trans women for their supposed relation to men & maleness, which is actually deeply untrue because really the crux of TERF ideology & most transmisogyny IS misogyny. It's rooted deeply in trans women not neatly fitting into the box of cis perisex white abled womanhood, it's about trans women being the wrong kind of woman, which IS the universal experience of misogyny & womanhood that all women & those socially classed as women face.
The sooner you stop treating transmisogyny & TERFism as a symptom of hating men & actually about hating women, the better your understanding of these ideologies & the better your understanding of where trans women fit in social roles of womanhood AND of your own place as a trans man.
You should rly be open to relating to & talking with ppl about any experience of misogyny that is outside your own, be that from trans women, women of colour, disabled women, intersex women, ect, because there are facets of misogyny you haven't experienced that are important to talk about & recognize.
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some hasty Laughingstock ft. butterfly!Howdy for your mild enjoyment...
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humanmorph · 9 months
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"[high pitched and tinny] Let’s dive in. Let’s dive in. It’s time to dive in. Get ready to [audio distorts and slows] dive. Diiive. Diiiiie…" (The Road to PALISADE 20: City Planning Department)
so that's what i've been working on for the past 2 weeks! i wanted to draw something for this intro ever since i first listened to it (as a companion piece to my other gur drawing, though it of course ended up being way bigger in scale), but it only really gripped me about halfway through PALISADE ep 18. the next morning after that i listened to this narration on repeat for about 45 minutes and then made a big sketch on 4 sheets of paper at my desk at work.
anyways, i haven't listened to the new episode yet but i think i'm probably ready for whatever they're gonna throw at us with the next sortie. i'm gonna believe, against it all, in millennium break. for gur
(i recommend listening along while scrolling! + transcript btw. if anything is hard to read)
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