#and the weight of it all is killing me

[sheogorath]

as someone who has never believed im capable of getting better, i think some people genuinely can't grasp the concept that some people really don't know how to heal, and it's hard for them to feel compassion for those people. to them, it seems like those people are lazy or selfish, they're just not willing to try. but how can you be motivated to try - and even if you are how can you even know where to begin or what to do - if the idea of "getting better" is so abstract and unrealistic? and that lack of understanding, that feeling of not being understood and the pressure of being expected to achieve a goal you cant conceptualize only makes you want to sink deeper, because if you can't even imagine being able to do it, the only other thing you feel like you can do is disappoint the people around you who don't or can't understand your struggle, and only think you should get better, but not think of how or what thats like for you.

truthfully i dont know what my point is, just be patient with the people around you even if (to you) it seems like they dont care. whether it's mental illness, substance abuse, or physical disability/illness, whether theyre in therapy/rehab or not, whether they say theyre trying or just flat out tell you they cant/wont. just be patient, be kind, try to understand them. everyone deserves compassion.

and if you too don't know what getting better looks like, just know i see you. i understand you. youre not alone and i love you no matter how hard - if you feel like at all - youre trying. thank you for still being here.

[auspicioustidings]

Bet Soap shuts down all the diet talk around the office girls by generally being outraged that they're talking about how they should do this diet or that diet (all of them wildly unacceptable to him from a health standpoint, like fuck off you work on a military base 400 calories for a day is NOT ON) and then loudly saying he is going to fuck some self worth into them while already taking his clothes off. There is a massive sigh and Gaz drags him out of there while profusely apologising (but also telling them to meet him at lunch and if they want to talk about good eating habits he can help).

Soap will spend the rest of the day pacing and grumbling under his breath about how much he would die to get stuck into these girls and how he cannot believe they think they're not hot as fuck.

[denkisauce]

(bnha manga ending spoilers)

what was the point

what was the point

what was the point

WHAT WAS THE POINT

WHAT WAS THE POINT

WHAT WAS THE POINT 😭😭

what was the pointtttt

[lovesickeros]

☆ de fontaine

{☆} characters furina {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings angst, suicidal thoughts, hurt / no comfort {☆} word count 1.4k

This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair. This wasn't fair!

She thought, for one moment, she could put the mask down and breathe – for one moment of daydreaming, she thought she could just be Furina. She thought she would finally get to live the live she should've had in the first place, the life she threw away to play God to an audience who saw her as nothing but a circus animal, dancing to their whims. Furina just wanted to be selfish for one brief and fleeting moment..and it was gone before she could even grasp it in her hand. A comet soaring past far out of her reach.

She can barely keep her hands from violently shaking as she looks down at them – broken and bloody and more a corpse then a person – and she feels so numb she can't even feel the rain pelting against her back. None of this is fair, she wants to scream, why is it always me? But her voice is silent beneath the torrent of rain. She wonders if the ocean would take her if she sank into it's depths – just for a moment, she wonders how it would feel to finally be able to sleep at ease.

Furina is tired.

But Furina is nothing if not useful, isn't she?

So she forces her feet to move, dragging against the stone beneath her heels, and drags their bloodied body into the nearest empty building, letting the rain do the work of washing away the smeared blood following her path. The smell makes her feel sick, the feeling of it sticking to her hands and gloves makes her lightheaded, but she persists. Because Furina is useful, because Furina won't let them die out in the rain, because Furina won't stand by and just let them rot on the streets like some..pest.

Furina wants to go home. She wants to sleep and she isn't she if she wants to wake up, this time. But she keeps going anyway.

Because it's all she's ever done, and the habit sticks.

An Archon she may not be, not anymore, but the expectations of five hundred years still linger like eyes on the inside of her skull. They watch her, pry and prod at her thoughts, mocking laughter and judging eyes following her as she forces herself to dance to the song they weave with glee. Furina never stepped off that stage – she's still there, she thinks, watching the crowd stare at her in disdain as the curtain call looms above her like a guillotine. She still hears Neuvillette deliver her damnation and salvation with a trembling voice, still feels her hair stand on end when electro crackled like the crack of the whip, Clorinde's blade aimed at her like a loaded gun.

She's trapped on that stage and she never left, not really.

She hates it. She thinks she hates them, but it's not their fault. They didn't ask for this, didn't ask for everyone to turn against them, didn't ask for her to save them. Neither did she..yet here they are, she thinks.

She tries to tell herself she's in control this time, though. She can stop performing her part in this horrible, bloody play any time she wants. It makes her feel better, just for a little while, if she convinces herself she's still Furina, painfully human.

And Furina has always been good at lying.

It's the believing that's the hard part.

There isn't time for her to wallow in her own self pity, though. They're still bleeding out onto the dusty, creaky floorboards of some random, broken down house and she's just standing there as the blood stains the wood. She can fix it – she's good at fixing things. She's done nothing but fix things – try to, anyway – for five hundred years. She can fix a little wound, how hard could it be? Her hands are clenched so tight they ache as she kneels down, wincing at the creak of the floorboards beneath her heels– she hesitates just long enough to wonder if she's making a mistake before she peels away just enough of the outer layer of their clothes to see the deep, bloody gash across their chest. She tries not to think about it – it's deep, too deep, and she feels dizzy just looking at it, but she's handled worse, right?

Furina can fix it. That's what she's good at.

She doesn't feel so confident when she tries to wrack her brain for..something. Five hundred years, and a little wound stumps her? No, she had to have learned something, right? She's decidedly not trying to buy time because she's panicking, parsing through hundreds of years of memories like flipping through a book. Furina isn't made for this, not really – she's running on nothing but adrenaline and she's really not sure what she's doing, but she's trying. And just like before, it won't be enough, will it?

She'll fall short again – she'll be too late to fix it before she's alone again.

Furina was an Archon..used to be. What use would she have for that sort of knowledge? Which makes her predicament all the more harrowing and bleak. What was she supposed to do?

Furina had heard it first hand, that vitriol in Neuvillette's voice. She isn't sure she's ever heard him that..angry before. She's not sure he would listen to her if she tried, either. And that scares her more then anything. All of Fontaine was up in arms about this..imposter, yet here she was, staring down at them bleeding out in front of her, and she was trying to save them.

Why? Why is she throwing away her only chance at normalcy for a fraud? Why didn't she just turn them in?

They were dying – that should've been a good thing, shouldn't it? So why didn't it feel like it?

"Why you?" Her voice breaks as she speaks in harsh tones, grabbing the front of their shirt in trembling, bloodied hands. "Why now?" She wants to scream, to demand answers they can't give, to claw back the reprieve she was promised after five hundred years of agony..and all she can do is sob into their chest, pleading for an answer that will not come. "Why me?"

Silence is their answer, and it hangs heavy on her trembling shoulders as she cries.

Of course they don't, she thinks bitterly, no one has ever answered her pleas spoken in hushed sobs. Not her other self and certainly not them.

Furina has always been alone. Furina will always be alone.

Because Furina never left that stage, never left that moment when she looked at herself in the mirror and took up a mantle too heavy for her to bear. She always finds her way back eventually. There's no one on the other side anymore – she stands alone on a stage, waiting for an inevitable end she isn't sure will come.

"Please," She pleads through tears and choked sobs, clinging to them like they are all that keeps her from sinking. "Please don't leave me, too." The words burn on her tongue – how pathetic is she that she craves companionship from the bloodied body of the imposter? Perhaps she's truly lost her mind after all these years..perhaps she's finally gone mad. She must have.

But their presence is like the first feeling of gentle warmth upon her skin as the sun crests the horizon, like the gentle lap of tides along her heels, the sway of branches and leaves as the wind blows through them like an instrument all it's own. They are the soothing sound of rain against the window as she watches the dreary skies in fond longing, the first bloom of spring as color blooms upon the landscape like paint had been spilled across the hills and valleys.

They are like the faint spark she carefully nurtures and stokes, so fragile even the smallest wind could blow it out like a candle. She cradles it within her palms, pleads with whoever will listen – prays that someone finally listens, because if not for her, then for them.

She's failed to protect too much already, let too many people with so much trust in her fall between the cracks of her fingers like grains of sand. She won't let them go – she can't.

If nothing else, if she couldn't be saved when she begged for salvation from that five hundred year long agony, even if she never got that chance..

Furina will make sure they do.

[togamicrying]

one of my fav post game togami headcanons is the idea that in the early days of their time with the future foundation, he's the one doing the Bulk of the work -- not only in the Job sense of like, interpreting all the legalese and filing forms, and being mr ceo guy -- but in a caretaking sense as well.

and its still in his Weird Distant way but like. he picks up extra work so the others dont have to. he brings coffee and tells them when its time to turn in for the night. dont worry. he'll finish the work they have left. it's nothing to him. and sure all of it is couched in backhanded comments a la "if you're too weak to do it i will. i GUESS" because he's still too early in his Journey to Empathy to admit to himself that he's doing these things because he cares. like it's all rationalized as "im the better than everyone and my weak-willed so-called 'peers' are too consumed by grief to actually be useful so i'll do it because im naturally immune to burnout" (he isnt)

and also bc like. he feels BAD about everything that went down in hopes peak. again, not that he'd recognize it as such for years but. here are all these people that he doesn't (does) care about struggling against their own grief for the people they lost that he doesnt care about (or at least doesnt remember caring about) and he treated them SO poorly in some of the harder moments so now's when he needs to make up for it. sure his entire family is dead but he's alive and he's the best one, so he'll do the work. it's fine. this is what he was made for. extra paperwork? handled. too swamped to find time to grab food and water? tch, he's so on top of his work that he already got it for you, stupid. the most dangerous missions? whatever, you'd probably just mess it up anyways, so i'll do it.

[canonkiller]

do you consider your self made?

[jerys]

thinking abt merlin through the ages contending with the fact that arthur is still so present in the land. in mythology in legend in fairytales told to children in books and films and countless other forms of memory. throughout the world he is remembered still, and yes it isn't really him they're remembering, it's the legend of him, the myth, the heroic fool's gold shimmer of his legacy. but he's still here.

[yuckybusiness2]

Packed Pachyderm 🐘

[saberdramon]

i am also. not normal about kiryu and majima and death. the insistence that kiryu can only die by majima's hand. a man who already lost everything once, who keeps getting dragged into shit time and time again, who frequently wonders why he hasn't already died, who perhaps would prefer it at this point. is not allowed to die. because there is only one person in the whole world who is allowed to kill him. who will kill anyone trying to take that privilege away from him. who will remind kiryu of this agreement as many times as it takes to drill it in. he is not allowed to die until majima says so. until he drives that dagger through kiryu's chest himself. and until that day comes he's going to get up and live and fight for his life if he must, because to give up would be letting down someone who's already bled more than he should have for kiryu's sake. and we wouldn't want that to happen would we

[camellcat]

first xander brought her back with human breath and determination... then willow with supernatural power and love.... smth smth two halves to keep their third in balance from drifting too far into either side and losing herself.....

[deafknell]

hello re:zero fan. in front of you is a re:zero character. describe them and who they are as a person without mentioning or angling your analysis around subaru natsuki.

[cinnamart]

to spiral out, to try and float

to see a friend, to see a ghost

[aquostrainer]

Absolute Beefcake...🏋️‍♂️

[violetdisasterzone]

another unfriendly reminder: at Maigu Ridge, the sex is not what killed Shen Qingqiu. AFTER the sex, when Binghe was coherent again, Shen Qingqiu started drawing the excess demonic energy out of Xin Mo himself. and once Binghe realized what he was doing, they destroyed the sword together.

did we forget "'Dying together' also included a 'together.' It didn't seem that bad." ????

[brainrotcharacters]

notice how as soon as Logan saw Wade wasn't gonna let up on the "I need you" bullshit, Logan started to self-sabotage?

[clowndensation]

there’s a question to be asked i think about to what extent “getting out” can be conflated with “being saved” in this show, and what freedom actually means to any of these characters.

like you can argue that shiv saved ken by voting against him on gojo, but what if your intent behind saving someone is to inflict a worse punishment than if you’d just left them trapped? can a child weaned on poison survive on milk, or are you just sentencing them to a death by inches, starved of the only thing they know? and if you save someone specifically because you know that being saved is the worst thing that can happen to them, is that kindness or cruelty? at what point does a good thing become a malicious act?

and you can say that roman is finally free, but what exactly is he free from? the company? his father? does unlocking a cage mean saving a dog, or are you allowing him out on the street knowing there’s a kill shelter nearby? if the driving anxiety behind roman is that he’s an idiot and a failure—that he’ll never amount to anything, and trying will only lead to pain—and he’s finally cut loose once all of those anxieties have crystallized into cold hard fact in his mind, what has he actually escaped from? if the cage is in your mind, is it even possible for somebody else to unlock it?

the fundamental truth of a tragedy is that even being saved can be a death sentence, if the characters are incapable of escaping the thing doing them the most harm (themselves and their childhoods)