#and she did it without hesitation

[child-of-the-danube]

This was the most beautiful episode of a series I've seen in ages. I am amazed and absolutely heartbroken 💔💔

I knew my girl was on her way out, but her end was beyond beautiful. Having lived a life that was never your own, nothing you did or said changed what you saw, but your end being your own choice is pure poetry. Everyone else on the road had their power taken or blocked by something outside their control but Lilia's power was painful to the point that she decided to take it away herself. Feeling so powerless that you decide to MAKE yourself actually powerless to avoid any more hurt is such a gut wrenchingly hard decision. But imagine how terrifying spending half of your time unsure of where you are, if things are really happening or if you're just seeing something must have been. And on top of that, all people ever saw you as is a herald of death, or worse, they didn't see you at all. Nobody was there to share her fears and doubts, and neither to share any happiness that could have been. She was her own obstacle and what does she decide to do when clarity and confidence have finally returned to her? The one thing she was never able to do in centuries - save the ones she loves. And she does it by sacrificing herself.

And Death knew her. Rio knew who Lilia was from the start cause she watched her from the shadows. She watched her grow and learn and become a witch and most of all - survive. Keeping their true meeting for when it was time to stop running...

I'm going to cry myself to sleep tonight

And if you want to cry yourself to sleep tonight too (some more), go listen to Patti Lupone singing Stars and imagine it is Lilia...

[ciderjacks]

despite Laios low self esteem making him think that if he’d been eaten, Chilchuck and Marcille wouldn’t have helped Falin,

theres a small part of me that thinks the reason Chilchuck stayed with the party and went back in the dungeon in the first place was because he didn’t want to leave Laios alone. That Laios was moreso the reason he stayed.

[dykedvonte]

I think about the fact Anya locking herself in the infirmary with Curly to kill herself and how it is in way reclaiming a space that was initially hers from Jimmy.

Not to mention how she must've been aware of Jimmy's obsession with Curly and the idea that he would lose his power over the both of them (based on the fact she likely thought they would never get the door open) and having to face the responsibility of two deaths being on his hands as acting captain.

It was her final act of agency stuck on that ship with her abuser and it says something that she chose to die next to Curly, despite his inaction, leaned against him as if they were just in a casual conversation before her death. Despite everything, Anya made the final decision on her own terms and it speaks volumes considering her treatment and demeanor up until that point.

[sillyfudgemonkeys]

Everyone: We need to find Avatar Kuruk's reincarnation! Hey, that one boy! He kinda looks like him! He even has his smile! He must be the Avatar. Kyoshi: *literal shiny variant of Yangchen roaming the streets of Yokoya*

[faithandfairies]

I really love this moment, right after Lestat has just turned Claudia. Louis moves closer to Claudia and Lestat stops him with a gentle hand on his chest.

And you just know here Lestat is thinking something along the lines of "We do not know this girl. I've never made a child vampire before and don't know what to expect. If she chooses to attack, I need it to be me, Louis, not you."

And then Claudia politely asks for some of Louis' blood and you can see Lestat breathe a sigh of relief.

You can say a lot of shit about Lestat, but one thing, he will do his best to protect Louis from every perceived threat that isn't him if it's the last thing he does.

[districtfourmermaid]

Remember that time Katniss shot a woman through the heart so Squad 451 could hide in her apartment?

I want to know what her deal was. Other sections of the Capitol have evacuated, but you're still home. You've done your magenta hair up with gold butterflies and made up your face, even though no one is around to see it. You wear something comfy, since you're alone, a simple turquoise robe with embroidery of exotic birds. You're eating a breakfast sausage that smears your lipstick when you hear a noise in your utility closet. You open the door. To your surprise, the Mockingjay is there, back from the dead and right there in your utility closet. And you're dead.

[lucentstarss]

Sometimes I get hope for unraveled but then I remember how much of an ick I got from keefe when reading unlocked and get sad again

[bellamyblakru]

i will never understand how some people can actively shit on something they know someone loves and finds joy in right in front of them. how can you hate something that makes someone else happy in this absolutely fucked world in front of them.

its the passive aggression for no reason i will never ever understand or do to others. if you have a passion, fucking LIVE it. if nothing else, passion gets us through every shitty day, and i will always support it.

have passion in spite of those who hate.

[mordremrose]

I’m just gonna write a little thing! A little thought for Bloom, nothing too intense, just so I don’t forget it!

1000 words later? Whoops

Writing below the cut, major spoilers for the end of Heart of Thorns and implied End of Dragons spoilers but nothing explicit from EoD :]

Bloom

“Kill me, Commander.” Trahearne could hear his own voice tremble, as horror overtook his dear friend’s face. Around them all, their friends— Rytlock, Caithe, Canach, Marjory, Braham— were exhausted. Worn thin by the fight against the jungle dragon, both physical and within the Dream.

“What? No! Mordremoth is dead. We destroyed its mind from the inside.” The commander protested, their fingers curled around the hilt of Caladbolg.

“But I still hear its voice.” Trahearne looked down at his hands, twisted and blighted as they were. His body was not his— he was corrupted. It was only cruel fate that he had kept his mind this long. Or perhaps something more sinister.

“Mordremoth is alive. One last hateful vestige… a terrible seed, planted deep in my mind.”

Trahearne’s hands curled into fist, as he took a deep steadying breath.

“You must kill me, Commander, before that seed grows. Before… before Mordremoth reclaims what it has lost.”

He reached out now, hands on his friend’s shoulders. The tears streaming down their face broke his heart. He did not want this. He didn’t want to hurt them, to see them suffer so.

Trahearne wished there was another way.

“What is left of me can’t survive on its own, my friend.” He croaked, and felt the Commander tremble beneath his hands. Were they always so small?

“Strike now or—“

Against his will, a rage rose up. A sick bile that boiled in his stomach and burned through his chest as his mind lurched.

Through his mouth, Mordremoth spoke.

“I am the future! I am this world! You cannot destroy me!” The dragon roared, hands tightening around the commander.

“Run while you can!” It took everything he had left to force his fingers to uncurl, to release the commander even as the dragon wanted to tear them to shreds to be remade anew.

Caladbolg flashed in the corner of his eye.

“No!” The commander yelled. Strike true my friend! Trahearne wanted to yell. But he couldn’t, and his mind went dark.

There was no great explosion. There was no dying scream.

If you asked those present what happened, none of them gave any concrete answer.

Canach hesitated to answer, but would confirm that Mordremoth was no longer hounding his mind, or any of the sylvari.

All Rytlock would say was that the confrontation wasn’t pretty.

Caithe mourned Trahearne, in her quiet and melancholic manner, and asked not to push the matter further.

Braham would scowl, shake his head, and shove his way past, unwilling or perhaps unable to describe that final blow.

Marjory Delaqua, normally so elegant and clever with her words, who could see the twists of a plot before anyone else— when she was asked, she could only shake her head and reply ‘I don’t know’.

The Commander didn’t answer at all, because no one was able to find them to ask.

Eventually, researchers at the newly established lab of Rata Novus confirmed what the entire world held its breath to hear.

Mordremoth was dead. He had to be, to explain the slow steady trickle of magic escaping the jungle, supposedly as the dragon… decayed wasn’t the right word, but it conveyed the idea well enough. It was a slow death, they said, not quite the explosive reaction from Zhaitan, who had gorged itself on magic before its death, but a gradual decay. It changed things, about magic, about how the people of Tyria and the soon to be established Dragon’s Watch understood the flow of magic around and through the Elder Dragons. But it was dead.

It had to be.

He woke up. His body ached, as it always did, as he woke. A consequence of being too bigsmall. He stirred slowly, limbs stretching out and tail dragging behind. He had buried himself beneath massive vines this time, the weight of them both familiar and restricting. These conflicting sensations, the constant disagreement with himself… it was the only thing he could rely on. Even his name escaped his memory, although he could hear whispers of it on the edges of his mind.

Traherdremaneth.

It didn’t matter, really.

He moved slowly, not truly wanting to rise, but knowing he must.

He was something in between, and there was no stillness for him. No place of his own.

His one companion, if you could call it that, would be upon him soon. A dogged purserer, both a thorn in his side and a trusted ally, trailed behind him. For a time he thought they left him— and the feelings that had wrought left him stationary in a deep cave for nearly a week before they had reappeared.

He didn’t want them close, he knew that much, but they were one of the few things he had, a consistency. He couldn’t see them well, not with the distance between them, but he could always make out the broken blade at their hip. The one that made the scar across his chest ache.

He wondered what would happen if he let them get closer. Would they strike? Would they know him?

They were his enemyfriend. What would they make of him? Caution kept him at a distance from them.

The longer he was awake, the more memories he could half-remember.

The Orrian landscape stretches out before him and it reeks of his sibling, twisting beneath the dirt. The undead don’t notice him, not yet, and he can take a moment to look closer at the coral. It was neither alive nor dead. Not unlike himself and yet so different to him or anything he had ever encountered before.

He missed his siblings, their quiet talks among the then empty roots, among safe coils with their constant presence around him. They were too distant to feel or simply gone now and it unnerved him. This was wrong. Perhaps they could help him make it right.

There was one other thing, other than his sort-of companion and his unsteady roiling mind, that remained constant. And this was the true constant. A steady beacon, that he could not see or hear, but simply felt in a way that he could not describe. A magnetic sort of pull that had him orbiting closer and closer.

It drew him in, out of the depths and dark underbelly of the jungle and the cave systems, towards the strange golden stones, the elegant walls meant to keep out creatures that wished to destroy the beacon. He was not welcome there, not yet, even though he meant no harm. He just needed to be closer.

He didn’t know how he knew that. He just knew it.

[icouldbeyourprettygirl]

I’m getting worried about things with S. He texted me again last night, and while it was just about music, it still felt wrong. At the very end he said, “you’re the bestest, Cassie” and while that made me extremely happy in the moment, that’s kind of a weird thing to say for a 40 something year old man to say to a 19 year old girl. I’m not looking forward to seeing him tomorrow, to be honest. (Am I overreacting??)

[iguessitsjustme]

This just in: I am NOT okay.

[manicpixxiedreambitch]

In elementary school, I got picked on for …*checks notes*…

Calling my mom “momma”

Liking Hello Kitty

Watching Yo Gabba Gabba

Liking Dora The Explorer

Picking my nose

Wearing my hair in pigtails

Biting my nails

So in summary, I got bullied for…

….being a seven year old girl.

What the fuck.

[loumauve]

the goddamn toast water post just made me utter "history is fucking real" in the most solemn and serious tone of voice, out loud, to myself, in the goddamn bathtub

[broodygaming]

idk if that poll means viv betrays you or like. solas. he kinda betrays you by wanting to end the world ig

Yes! Yes sorry i tried to say that later in my tags haha, I just mean the whole betrayal thing reminds me of this very intense first impression of Viv, that's all. Whenever I think about the whole "mage betrayal" thing, I think of that just because I knew that my hurt feelings over Anders "betrayal" REALLY colored my choices in that (fairly early) character quest, ya know? And I feel bad haha, like it sucks and I wish she'd just given me more context T_T

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

sometimes I think about The Last and want to scream

[padfootswhiskers]

the absolute atrocious characterisation James gets from some of you…wtf. my man used to be a bully and a pompous airhead, yes, but he was also GOOFY and loyal and brave to a fault?? be fair.