@takingaselkie / takingaselkie.tumblr.com
people talk about main character energy, but what about side character energy? i'm over here, tirelessly providing minor exposition and having quirky hobbies for several seconds at a time to establish how cool and normal the protagonist is
ok fine maybe i DID come back wrong. what are you going to do about it. kill me? put me back in the ground? after all this effort? all this pain and suffering only to find out bringing me back wasn't worth it after all? you worked so hard. are you going to waste all of that just because im not what you wanted? just because i belong only to myself? are you going to let me pick out my own coffin
“The stone corrupts all those who wield it, it is fueled by their ambitions and dreams. So we need someone with no ambitions, no dreams, someone who doesn’t care about what the future holds for themselves. That’s why we found you.”
The first thought, in a moment like this, probably should not have been what came to your mind. Well, fuck you too, you thought, half incredulous and half apathetic. You leaned against the doorframe with one shoulder and eyed the group of three wizened people before you. Why was it always the elderly who came with big quests or brought important items that had to be hidden away?
Also, if you didn’t care about the future, didn’t that mean you didn’t care about the stone either? You might as well give it to someone else. Maybe someone better suited than you. There was this little girl across the street who had an acorn necklace and played in puddles and always sat very still until the every last stray cat felt safe enough to eat what she brought them. Maybe the stone should go to her, she at least gave a shit.
You debated arguing or refusing, but your disinterest won out in the end. “Sure,” you answered, holding out a hand for them to plop the stone into. You weren’t scared of it, especially since it looked utterly unremarkable. If you tossed it into a river, no one would be able to tell it apart from the other rocks.
The three wizened elders, apparently the smartest of their magic circle, exchanged grave looks and you waited until they were done with their silent communication and their leader stepped forward.
“We entrust you with the Stone of Possibility, never use it and always hide it,” they said, voice solemn and carrying the sort of undertone that spoke of great importance. You blinked slowly. “Give it to no one, no matter how noble their hearts, how pitiful their tale or how silver their tongue.” You couldn’t help but imagine a genderless person sticking out their tongue dripping with mercury.
I added the finishing touches to on my raptor piece 🦖🪡 by Bustedflush91
The secret to a peaceful tumblr experience is that every once in a while you gotta be deeply fucking cringe on main so only the strong will keep following you.
Our Lady of the Damp and Rain
surprised to see a movie like Goncharov getting so popular on the website that found the moral nuance of steven universe to be unmanageable
@tkingfisher is this right
Absolutely. Let them in. Let them watch you. Stroke their oddly moist fur. Don’t worry about the pale threads adhering to your hands. They only wish to learn you from within.
imo the best television programmes are about two women who were best friends when they were at school but due to an event that caused a deep emotional rift between them they havent seen each other for like a decade. whatever else your show has going on if this is at its core it will rule
god your mind
Monterey Bay Aquarium Research Institute fanart
Text: I spend hours cataloguing the museum’s dusty back room. A capricorn skeleton, disassembled. A seer’s orb that only shows sinking ships. A trunk of seal skins, faded with age.
I did not choose to work at the Museum, not freely. But I had no family, and no home, and there were no better choices, so I took my place here.
Some people like it here. They wander the beautiful rooms, gaze upon priceless artifacts, or paintings, or elegant reminders of past times in the forms of furniture or clothing or decorative trifles of great expense. It is beautiful, I suppose.
The rooms where the staff live are small and drab. We are required to remain in the Museum, you see. We cannot leave for the duration of our contracts, neither by night nor by day, by the light of sun or moon. We belong to the Museum. Some have been here for decades… or centuries, perhaps. Time passes differently here.
As the newest member of staff, I was sent to do the ‘dull’ work of cataloguing the old exhibits. It had not been done for a long time – the last new member died in the doing, and the one before him got promoted before finishing. It can be dangerous, but I found that I liked the work, and chose to continue it even when another worker came. It is not right, that what we have here is not all treated with the same respect.
Some of the artifacts are dangerous, and kept locked up. I found three which no longer moved on their own, their curses faded or their clockwork run down, and moved them into Inert Storage.
Some of the paintings required tending. Some only need restorations or repairs, and for those I have the tools. Others require company, or… alteration.
all these years on tumblr and I still don’t know how to format a video post properly the first time
anyhow, here I go again! cql and crazy ex-girlfriend mash-up nobody asked for! enjoy!
there are so many greek letters, many possibilities for inaccurate werewolf packs
*my* mate is actually an upsilon male, which means he is dominant enough to write one star reviews on yelp but not dominant enough to kill wasps with a rolled up magazine. he can wrap Christmas gifts but cannot touch ribbons because of his male energy
tired of thinking . tired of planning . im just gonna draw some shit & whatever happens happens & its everyone elses problem
