I'd rather be in outer space đž
Love Begins
Claire Keane
⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
macklin celebrini has autism
đ©” avery cochrane đ©”
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
KIROKAZE
Xuebing Du
No title available
Game Changer & Make Some Noise
art blog(derogatory)
The Stonewall Inn
PR's Tumblrdome
pixel skylines
todays bird
$LAYYYTER
izzy's playlists!
sheepfilms
Sade Olutola
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Myanmar (Burma)
seen from Italy
seen from Malaysia
seen from Russia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Liechtenstein
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Italy
seen from Norway
seen from TĂŒrkiye
seen from Singapore
@noir-ram-blog
MOVING
Iâve changed blogs as part of wanting to rework my ocs. Noirâs blog is now a secondary ( @voidednoir ) to my new main blog @fern-is-rude where Iâll keep all messages, ooc stuff, and other cool things.
Those who care should go follow those instead since this one will no longer be inhabited.
â€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïž
another reminder
MOVING
I've changed blogs as part of wanting to rework my ocs. Noir's blog is now a secondary ( @voidednoir ) to my new main blog @fern-is-rude where I'll keep all messages, ooc stuff, and other cool things. Those who care should go follow those instead since this one will no longer be inhabited. â€ïžâ€ïžâ€ïž
Pokemon giveaway!
Sooo, i had that old dragonite card that was expired when i hit 400. Im currently a lil over 430 followers, and id love to do a belated 400 follower giveaway! The winner will receive a genesect! I have a unused card wih a code on it. I already have my own genesect, so this is for one of you! -the giveaway winner will be chosen by a random generator- Ends/winners announced: November 15, tuesday! The first place winner will win a genesect, AND two pokemon pictures. These pictures will be hand drawn by me, and posted on this tumblr with your name linked. They can have 2 pokemon in 1 picture, or one pokemon in 2 seperate pictures. The genesect will be given to you through your ask box, or messages as the code. Make sure one of these is open! The second place winner will receive two pokemon drawings only. It will also be posted through my tumblr with a link to your blog. Third place:one pokemon drawing only. How to enter: Reblog this! You must be following me. Blogs for this sort of thing is NOT allowed, as are nsfw bots. Any bots for that matter. If you win: i will contact you after i announce the winners on: Tuesday, November 15th! This will give you some time to get the code and have it in your game before it expires. (Must have omega ruby, alpha sapphire, x, or y). The drawings will be drawn that night or the next morning, and posted. If you do not reply or tell me what pokemon you want within that day atleast, i will choose a runner up. Goodluck everyone!
Hey everyone to those who havnt seen this! Get your reblogs in while you can!
Three days left everyone!
ENDS TOMORROW! HURRY UP EVERYONE! CMON NOW ISSA FREE GENESECT LVL 100 GAMESTOP EXCLUSIVE! AND FREE POKEMON ART BY ME!
Send me a "â€" For my muses reaction to waking up with your muses head between their legs.
Send âïž to find my muse out in the cold and alone
/////needs to stop being so shy and talk to people///////there's so many of you I wanna rp with////////
Which OC has a significant other
Unlikely Allies
âWell,â the pause is very long, âI used to be a Guardian. SomethingâŠwent wrong on recon. Now, Iâm Taken.â He watches the Warlock closely, making sure she doesnât jump for her weapon.Â
âA Guardian⊠Whoâs been Taken?â The Warlock was slightly confused, sheâd figured the Travellerâs light was strong enough to resist the darkness that Oryx brought. âHow did something like that even happen.â She gripped the backing of the bench and turned herself around, jaw almost hitting the floor when she saw him.
He winced a little at her expression. âDeep in the Dreadnaught, if you lose your Ghost, the Travelerâs light will not protect you. Any number of things could happen. Iâm just unfortunate enough to have been Taken,â
"I'm... Sorry to hear that." She herself didn't posses a Ghost anymore, it disappeared when she took over this body. Thinking about it stung a little, how her Ghost refused to believe anything she told him. Then it left. Leaving her alone, and vulnerable.
Chandra Pendragon
Class: Warlock Sub: Sunsinger
Age: Late thirties, or so she believes. Itâs roughly how long since her resurrection. Height: 5'8" Weight: ⊠Iâd rather she didnât kill meâŠ
Chandra is rather intelligent when it comes to Golden Age affairs, even without the records and teachings from the Vanguard. She spent the first few months of her new life trying to find out what had happened leading up to the collapse. For a while she even decided to help other Guardians study the Traveller, during that time is when she first met Felwinter. Another exceptionally talented Warlock who taught her how to use the Light, and showed her the first comings of the Warlords.
After the times with Felwinter and the other Guardians had ended, her methods became more aggressive. Willing to kill for more knowledge and power. It was at this point her desire to learn of the Golden Age had ceased, and instead she yearned for more control over the light. Chandra wanted something to rule, a place to call her own, and people to follow her.
It was then that sheâd founded New Delphi. Several months were spent alone cleaning out the mess left behind and getting a working power source. People had heard rumors about a new safe haven being built in Arizona, and many of them set off to help. But after itâs creation, those who didnât realize the kind of place she built was not meant for normal innocent people, perished.
Argoâs arrival at New Delphi was quite the surprise. No Guardian so far had made the trek through the deserts harsh terrain and wild weather. It was unusual for other Guardians to meddle in the affairs of Warlords, especially alone. But instead he had come to offer his assistance, and now serves has her right hand man and heavy-lifter. Key on the other hand came later, and his tale is far more intriguing.
The Dust Runners
The number of Warlords and their territories have significantly decreased with the growing number of Guardians. A just usage of their gift, one to show the people hope. To protect them.
But the Frontier is not so forgiving and gentle, and those who are too used to the closed walls would not last in the harsh environment left behind. Fallen and Hive arenât the only dangers left out there, others born of the Travellerâs gift whoâs eyes do not see the righteous ways of Guardians. A more violent and ruthless way of controlling things, where survival does not include friendships.
Within the storm riddled deserts of the area once known as Arizona, a trio of Warlords have staked their claim and have no intentions of giving it up. New Delphi was created by the three as a safe haven for others like them, ruthless thugs and hired guns. It was home to some of the worst people you could meet, slavers, psychopaths, drunkards and gamblers. But it wasnât a simple walk in the park to get there. New Delphi was surrounded by shifting dunes of sand and whirling tornados. Only those who showed their strength and ability to survive could make it, and they were rewarded with a place to call home.
Do you have the ability to make it there Guardian? To meet with these remnants of an age long past, one even older than the Lords of Iron.
((This is a starting post for this blog. More detail on the Dust Runnersâ members will come a tad later. Feel free to inquire about anything or perhaps even send a starter if youâd like to meet with one of the three Warlords.))
apparently Shiro says âbug-huggersâ in reference to guardians who like the eliksni
eliksni fuckers confirmed
Hey, tumblrâŠ
Can you do me a favor?
Can you just stop acting like little pisshats for a moment and actually let people enjoy things?
I know itâs hard with the latest movement in the past few years (that unfortunately doesnât seem to be dying anytime soon) wherein everyone has to scream about how every little thing is not perfect, how every little thing and every single person is riddled with racism, homophobia, ableism, sexism, transphobia, biphobia, aphobia, etc.Â
But if you could pull your heads out of your asses for just a minute and pretend that youâre doing someone a solid (so that you still feel good about yourselves without having to destroy something), can you maybe let someone enjoy something they like that may be slightly problematic but in the grand scheme of the meaningless universe probably wonât cause the stars to erupt?
Because I am so so sick of this trend where someone canât enjoy a movie, a book, a singer, an actor, etc. because *le gasp* they arenât perfect, because they made petty mistakes, because an unsourced post has accused them of something that no other credible source has verified, because they sneezed the wrong way, you name it, tumblr has a problem with it.
And yeah, I said âtumblrâ. I used to defend this website to the death and tell people that this toxicity wasnât tumblrâs fault, but you know what, to quote Bojack Horseman (even though Iâm sure youâll find a thousand things wrong/offensive with the show): âItâs you, all right? Itâs you.â
You know, for a website that constantly bashes the military, you all sure seem to have the same exact defense strategies. To. A. Tee.
People are dying and youâre trying to protect them so that gives you the right to act like a complete and utter asshole about everything. âŠRight?
Not every problem is lethal.
Last night, I saw a blogger rip another one apart with every cussword imaginable because they said hijab instead of burka.
But itâs okay, theyâre allowed to be complete bullies, because people are dying? Even though their deaths donât actually have anything to do with accidentally saying the wrong word for a headwrap in an otherwise well-meaning post.
The âpeople are dyingâ excuse is a good one. Itâs a great one. Because it not only makes you feel like youâre doing something important when youâre really just shouting profanities on your laptop, it guilts the other person into submission.
Because people are indeed dying.
But that doesnât give you the right to use their deaths as an excuse to act like a complete and utter asshole, to act like a bully, who doesnât care who they have to tear apart so long as they get to feel better about themselves at the end of the day.Â
Well Hello~
Lysander watched, thoughts lost only a little as he thought over a few of the clanâs missions. Truly he disliked it when children were involved, it made his blood boil and he could never remain objective.
Griff usually didnât take him on those run.
When she dropped her drink his attention sharply came back, eyes a little wide as she clutched her head. Something was wrong and he had no idea what it was.
âAre you alright? Do you need anythingâ He gently set her fallen glass back up, keeping a watch on her.
ââŠof are you going to tell me whatâs going on?â
The Warlock leaned backwards into her chair, a hand lifted from her lap and waved off the Titan. She needed to get out of here, away from the people who were under her influence. A sign of weakness could mean rebellion.
With a quick shake of her head Noir stood up, grabbing onto the back of her chair with one hand. "We need to leave. You specifically need to leave... This was a terrible idea."
Her weakened state left the woman stumbling out of the bar, almost tripping over her own feet on several occasions. When turning back to see if he followed, the edges of her vision went dark. Then she collapsed.
writing-prompt-s:
Valhalla does not discriminate against the kind of fight you lost. Did you lose the battle with cancer? Maybe you died in a fist fight. Even facing addiction. After taking a deep drink from his flagon, Odin slams his cup down and asks for the glorious tale of your demise!
Oh my god, this is beautiful.
A small child enters Valhalla. The battle they lost was âhiding from an alcoholic father.â Odin sees the flinch when he slams the cup and refrains from doing it again. He hears the childâs pain; no glorious battle this, but one of fear and wretched survival.
He invites the child to sit with him, offers the choicest mead and instructs his men to bring a sword and shield, a bow and arrow, of the very best materials and appropriate size. âHere,â he says, âyou will find no man who dares to harm you. But so you will know your own strength, and be happy all your days in Valhalla, I will teach you to use these weapons.â
The sad day comes when another child enters the hall. Odin does not slam his cup; he simply beams with pride as the first child approaches the newcomer, and holds out her bow and quiver, and says ânobody here will hurt you. Everyone will be so proud you did your best, and Iâll teach you to use these, so you always know how strong you are.â
ââââ
A young man enters the hall. He hesitates when Odin asks his story, but at long last, it ekes out: skinheads after the Pride parade. His partner got into a building and called for help. The police took a little longer than perhaps they really needed to, and two of those selfsame skinheads are in the hospital now with broken bones that need setting, but six against one is no fair match. The fear in his face is obvious: here, among men large enough to break him in two, will he face an eternity of torment for the man he left behind?
Odin rumbles with anger. Curses the low worms who brought this man to his table, and regales him with tales of Loki so to show him his own welcome. âA day will come, my friend, when you seek to be reunited, and so you shall,â Odin tells him. âTo request the aid of your comrades in battle is no shameful thing.â
âââ-
A woman in pink sits near the head of the table. Sheâs very nearly skin and bones, and has no hair. This will not last; health returns in Valhalla, and joy, and light, and merrymaking. But now her soul remembers the battle of her life, and it must heal.
Odin asks.
And asks again.
And the words pour out like poisoned water, things she couldnât tell her husband or children. The pain of chemotherapy. The agony of a mastectomy, the pain still deeper of âwe found a tumor in your lymph nodes. Iâm so sorry.â And at last, the tortured question: what is left of her?
Odin raises his flagon high. âWhat is left of you, fair warrior queen, is a spirit bright as fire; a will as strong as any forged iron; a life as great as any sea. Your battle was hard-fought, and lost in the glory only such furor can bring, and now the pain and fight are behind you.â
In the months to come, she becomes a scop of the hallâno demotion, but simple choice. She tells the stories of the great healers, Agnes and Tanya, who fought alongside her and thousands of others, who turn from no battle in the belief that one day, one day, the war may be won; the warriors Jessie and Mabel and Jeri and Monique, still battling on; the queens and soldiers and great women of yore.
The day comes when she calls a familiar name, and another small, scarred woman, eyes sunken and dark, limbs frail, curly black hair shaved close to her head, looks up and sees her across the hall. Odin descends from his throne, a tall and foaming goblet in his hands, and stuns the hall entire into silence as he kneels before the newcomer and holds up the goblet between her small dark hands and bids her to drink.
âAll-Father!â the feasting multitudes cry. âWhat brings great Odin, Spear-Shaker, Ancient One, Wand-Bearer, Teacher of Gods, to his knees for this lone waif?â
He waves them off with a hand.
âThis woman, LaTeesha, Destroyer of Cancer, from whom the great tumors fly in fear, has fought that greatest battle,â he says, his voice rolling across the hall. âShe has fought not another body, but her own; traded blows not with other limbs but with her own flesh; has allowed herself to be pierced with needles and scored with knives, taken poison into her very veins to defeat this enemy, and at long last it is time for her to put her weapons down. Do you think for a moment this fight is less glorious for being in silence, her deeds the less for having been aided by others who provided her weapons? She has a place in this great hall; indeed, the highest place.â
And the children perform feats of archery for the entertainment of all, and the women sing as the young man who still awaits his beloved plays a luteâwhich, after all, is not so different from the guitar he once used to break a manâs face in that great final fight.
Valhalla is a place of joy, of glory, of great feasting and merrymaking.
And it is a place for the soul and mind to heal.
IâM NOT CRYING YOUâRE CRYING
THIS IS GLORIOUS
Beautiful.
THIS IS JUST SO GREAT
Unlikely Allies
âWell,â the pause is very long, âI used to be a Guardian. SomethingâŠwent wrong on recon. Now, Iâm Taken.â He watches the Warlock closely, making sure she doesnât jump for her weapon.Â
"A Guardian... Who's been Taken?" The Warlock was slightly confused, she'd figured the Traveller's light was strong enough to resist the darkness that Oryx brought. "How did something like that even happen." She gripped the backing of the bench and turned herself around, jaw almost hitting the floor when she saw him.
Excuse me, have you changed your URL recently? I can't recognise it off the top of my head, apologies if you haven't and I'm just forgetful
Nope. It's still the same URL I've had since I started.
