#feeding a vicious cycle

[afewproblems]

Getting back into it (writing and tumblr) and hoping to post a Lil one-shot hopefully tonight!

[sanctissimx]

@bearratic

[off-brandhipster]

.

[blocky-tides]

i had to delete the app since it was like 12 gb eating up my storage and now for some reason the app keeps crashing whenever i open it (tumblr said they would stop servicing ios 15 which i have so im like stuck like this sdkjjkdfsljdfs [apple is up to ios 18])

[chemicaljacketslut]

yk before coming to college i hoped that i would make friends and try hard to be social, but i also acknowledged the very real possibility that i wouldn’t make friends and i would feel out of place and homesick. and i was like if that happens, it’s okay, i can push thru and have hope for future friends. ermm well. now it has happened and while i haven’t been here long at all and i hope i’ll start clicking with people more i forgot how hard loneliness is for me to deal with like that in conjunction with the new workload and all the big changes of emerging adulthood and i am at my breaking point crying every day within the first month lol

[bunnyboy-juice]

i want comfort of distractions and company but i am not fit for company rn so im just. sobbing (:

[moomuzan]

— 𝔲𝔫𝔯𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔦𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢

requested , their love is one-sided , slight angst , chuuya , dazai , akutagawa x gn! reader , requests are open my loves ㅤᵕ̈

He had loved you for as long as he could remember. From the moment he joined the Port Mafia, young and desperate for approval, you had been a beacon of power and control—everything he wanted to be, everything he wasn’t. Your sharp wit, your icy confidence, the way you commanded a room without even trying—it had captivated AKUTAGAWA entirely.

But you wouldn’t even glance in his direction.

At first, he convinced himself it was because he wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t worthy of your attention. So he trained harder, fought more ruthlessly, and sacrificed what little of himself was left, hoping that one day you’d see him. He wanted you to notice him, to need him. But no matter how much blood he spilled, no matter how hard he pushed himself, your eyes never lingered on him the way he longed for.

You only looked at him when it was convenient for you.

“You’re pathetic, you know that?” you’d said once, your voice cold and biting. He’d stood there, trembling, his fists clenched at his sides as your words pierced deeper than any blade. “Always chasing after someone’s approval—first Dazai’s, now mine. It’s embarrassing.”

He hated the way his heart ached at your words, even as his blood boiled in anger. He hated how much he craved your validation, even when you offered nothing but disdain.

Still, you used him.

You knew how to twist him, how to pull his strings and make him dance for you like a puppet. A small compliment here, a lingering glance there—it was all it took to keep him at your feet, desperate and hungry for more. You played him effortlessly, feeding his obsession while reminding him just how insignificant he was to you.

Time and time again, he’d gone above and beyond, risking his life to carry out missions, just to see the faintest flicker of approval in your eyes. But it never came—not the way he wanted. Instead, you discarded him as easily as you used him, your words cutting him down until he felt like nothing.

Nevertheless, he loved you.

He hated himself for it—for the way his heart raced whenever you were near, for the way he clung to every crumb of attention you threw his way. It was a vicious cycle of longing and rejection, and he was trapped in it, unable to break free.

He stayed awake at night, staring at the ceiling of his empty room, your voice echoing in his mind. “You’ll never be enough.” It haunted him, replaying over and over, until he began to believe it.

He wanted to hate you. He wanted to tear you from his heart, to rip out the parts of himself that still yearned for your touch. But no matter how much pain you caused him, no matter how cruel your words were, he couldn’t stop loving you.

And that was the worst part.

,

CHUUYA ‘s hand tightened around his glass, the crystal trembling under the strain. The whiskey swirled, untouched, as his gaze remained fixed on you. You were laughing, your face aglow with the kind of joy that should be his to share. But, it wasn’t. Now, you leaned closer to him, another man, your hand brushing his in a way that made Chuuya’s stomach twist painfully.

Trying to look away, his eyes betrayed him. You were magnetic—his solace in the chaos, his one constant. Yet now, you were slipping away, piece by piece, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

You used to look at him like that. You used to lean into him when you laughed, your eyes crinkling at the corners, the sound so sweet it made him forget the rest of the world existed. Back then, he pathetically thought he had a chance. But now, all he could do was watch from across the room as you gave those moments to someone else.

He didn’t know when it started. Maybe it was the way you stopped lingering beside him after missions, or how your gaze seemed to search for someone else in a crowded room. Maybe it was the way your smiles for him felt just a little dimmer, a little more distant, like a fire fading to embers.

Chuuya’s heart ached, but he said nothing. He stayed rooted in place, gripping the glass like it was the only thing anchoring him. His best friend said something, and you laughed again—a sound so soft, so genuine, that it broke something inside him.

The glass cracked.

A sharp sound, the jagged shards digging into his palm. Chuuya barely noticed the blood pooling between his fingers as he stared at the table, his chest rising and falling unevenly. His breath felt heavy, like it wasn’t enough to keep him alive.

Thoughts crumbling in, he wanted to scream at you, wanted to shake you and ask why you were doing this to him. Didn’t you see what you were to him? Didn’t you feel the way his entire soul bent toward you like a moth to flame?

Instead, he stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “I need some fucking air,” he muttered,ultimately to himself, his voice low and distant.

Outside, Chuuya leaned against the brick wall outside, his head tilted back to face the night sky. The cold air bit at his skin, but it didn’t dull the ache in his chest. He dragged a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it with shaky hands, the glow of the flame reflecting the turmoil in his eyes.

He exhaled, the smoke curling around him like the thoughts he couldn’t escape. He thought of your laugh, your smile, the way you used to look at him like he was the only person in the room. He thought of how he was losing all of it to someone else—someone who didn’t deserve you, not the way he did.

“Stupid,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. His hand trembled as he wiped the blood from his palm on his coat, ignoring the sting. “Why the hell can’t I let you go?”

Alone in the dark, Chuuya took another drag from his cigarette, his breath hitching as he fought the sob rising in his throat. He loved you. God, he loved you so much it was killing him. But it didn’t matter. You were slipping through his fingers, and all he could do was let you go.

,

DAZAI never thought someone like you would stumble into the Port Mafia, your beauty so striking it felt like a rebellion against the bloodstained corridors you now walked. From the moment Mori introduced you as the newest recruit, you’d stolen something from him—his focus, his composure, his carefully cultivated indifference.

You weren’t just beautiful; you were magnetic. The way you carried yourself, confident but not arrogant, graceful but never detached, drew him in like a moth to a flame. He didn’t realize he was burning until it was too late.

At first, he told himself it was just intrigue. You were new, a puzzle he hadn’t yet solved, someone whose motives he couldn’t immediately decipher. But it wasn’t just your sharp mind or your ruthless efficiency that captivated him. It was the way you smiled when you thought no one was looking, the way your laughter echoed through the dark halls, soft and fleeting, like a secret he wasn’t supposed to hear.

And then he saw you with her.

It was subtle at first—the way your eyes lingered on her a little too long, the way your lips quirked up in a soft smile whenever she walked into the room. Dazai noticed everything, of course. He always did. He noticed how you leaned closer to her during conversations, how you laughed more freely when she was around, how you always seemed brighter in her presence.

He told himself it didn’t matter. He wasn’t the kind of man who could love someone like you, someone so full of life. You deserved someone better, someone who wasn’t drowning in the darkness he carried with him.

He found himself gravitating toward the places you frequented, his footsteps quiet, his presence unnoticed. You had a habit of sitting on the rooftop late at night, the city sprawled out before you like a sea of lights. He would watch from a distance, leaning against the doorframe, his hands tucked into his pockets as he drank in the sight of you.

Dazai’s fascination with you quickly spiraled into something darker, something he could no longer control. He thought about you constantly—your smile, your voice, the subtle way you tilted your head when you listened. It consumed him, an endless loop of moments he had no right to hold onto but couldn’t let go of. He found himself memorizing every detail, cataloging the way the light played off your hair or the faint curve of your lips when you were deep in thought. At night, when the world was quiet, his mind was filled with thoughts of you, the kind that left him restless and hollow. Dazai started lingering outside the places you went, his footsteps always a beat behind yours. It wasn’t enough to see you during missions or brief encounters in the hallways—he needed more.

Loving you silently, destructively, Dazai stayed in the shadows. He told himself it was enough to admire you from afar, to see you happy even if it wasn’t with him. But the jealousy burned, a slow, agonizing ache that ate away at him bit by bit.

You would never be his. He knew that now.

A/N: anon i’ll think about you, thx for the request (again flirting)

[schrodingersbobby]

tyranny is such a vicious cycle

buck learning from interim captain han

2. ravi learning from clipboard buck

3. chimney admiring peer instructor ravi

three menaces feeding each other's abuse of power. I fear for everyone else on the team.

[morallygreychaoticneutral]

Spawn Astarion is "Stronger" than Ascended Astarion.

Ugh..this winter depression made me its bitch this time around and I didn't even get orgasms or snacks out of it.

Disrespectful!

So, lets shake these blahs by sharing some tea about our favorite elf. Hmmm..how about some Inner Reset. Sweet fennel, aniseed and cardamom.

This thought pot was started when I was reading a lot of comments about how "weak" Spawn Astarion is and how Ascending him is the best possible outcome for him. Is it? I feel Spawn Astarion is worthy of a high level of respect. More so than his Ascended version in my opinion.

Now, before an army of beloved dark consorts come for my neck, I do NOT have an issue with your master. I mean, if your going to have a evil, world dominating evil fantasy I would choose him too. I am with you on that. I am merely aligned with with his other half and enjoy sharing why.

Now go! You know your sovereign doesn't like his highly prized and guarded treasure straying too far. And I have no desire to have to explain to him why you are in my foyer. But, you are welcome to stay if you have permission and manners. * wink *

WARNING: Game Spoilers, Topics of Sex, Abuse, Torture and Adult themes including language. Not underage appropriate.

This is not fact. Just opinion based off my own and game experience. As always, how anybody cannons their relationships or behaviors is perfectly right! No blame, no shame, it's your game!

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Lets wander a bit.

Imagine if you will, that you made a poorly educated choice. And because of it, you were locked into slavery for centuries under the thumb of a mentally unstable captor. Your choices being do as you are told or suffer endless unimaginable pain you could never escape from due to your bond with your tormentor and your undead nature. You wouldn't die from the torture that would kill a mortal within minutes. You would suffer it for days, months, even years. True death was beyond your reach. Forever trapped in an endless cycle of pain.

But, you could "buy" a tentative reprieve.

The price? A strangers life.

No brainer, right? But here's the catch. The use of your body was required and the choices of what happened to it are anyone's but yours. Used any way your deranged captor wanted. Or your conquests for that matter. No boundaries, no autonomy.

So, what would you choose? Ceaseless pain? Or sexual slavery?

Seems like an easy choice. Luring strangers to their deaths by spinning intricate webs of lust promised lies to convince them of your false sincerity. Trapping them and feeding them to the spider that is your master. He is happy and you get to keep the skin on your bones. Well, more often than not at least. Better on a pain scale. But it is still torture.

But let's add in another level of complexity. Your sense of right and wrong is still intact. You are not "evil". Had you been it would have made the choice way too easy. You wouldn't have given a single thought about who you lured to deaths door. The act being nothing more than an annoying chore. But no, you still feel.

Damned if you do, dammed if you don't. Pick your hard.

This was Astarion's impossible choice.

And he chose what anyone who wasn't completely insane would choose. Not that it was any better. Not with his conscious still alive and well.

He talked like he was indifferent at times, but he carried remorse and accountability for his role in those people's demise. Even if he didn't want to.

"All these people were ruined because of me. Don't hate me. I did what i had to. i swear. I did what i had to!"

Deeds and beliefs against our true nature create shame. And shame is a self-destroying belief that evolves into loathing. And loathing is a vicious, rotting emotion that gives birth to soul crushing envy.

"I did these horrible things to innocent people. I deserve to suffer for my wretchedness. But why is no one else having to suffer consequences but me?!"

This is a poisonous concoction of turmoil that flays us emotionally.

Feelings Astarion fights with through the entire storyline. And he spends most of the game hiding because of it. His vampirism, his real personality, his sins.

Who wouldn't?

By societal standards he was already classified as a monster for being a vampire. By emotional standards he was considered weak and pathetic for being empathetic and saving space for others. And by moral standards he was evil for his roll in luring so many back to a sadistic master.

What a shit show.

But It wasn't who he truly was. Was he vampire? Yes, but he admired heros like Drizzt who bucked the social norm that he should be evil and chose otherwise. Was he empathetic? Yes, he tried to avoided innocents when he could and chose villains instead. Was he evil? No. He took no pleasure in the orders he was given. Unlike Jackass, pardon, Petras, he fought against Cazador's orders more often than not.

The inner villain vs the inner hero. A war raging in his own being that made the decision in what to do in regards to the ritual all the harder. Because on some level, both decisions made sense.

Mercy..

"But, if he was good, why was the decision so hard?"

For two centuries Astarion bore witness to Cazador being anything but "good" and getting everything handed to him. Power, wealth, pleasure. All the things Astarion had been convinced was worth anything in the world.

Which echo's real life, doesn't it. How many times has society sold you the idea that your value is based purely off of what you own (wealth), look like (sex appeal) or accomplish (reputation) ? Hmmm.

He did everything society told him was the thing to do to win at life didn't he? He was wealthy and accomplished by being a magistrate. He was beautiful and alluring in his body and looks. All the spoils of life should have been handed to him. But instead, it was taken.

"And what am i owed? What about the injustices I've suffered-am i not entitled to anything? Everything was taken from me, too."

And then, to add insult to injury, he finds out the Rite of Profane Ascension would "gift" Cazador, the man who has used and abused him for centuries, with new life and unfathomable power. The power to do anything. To be anything at the expense of Astarion's body and soul. Even if he died in the ritual, he still wouldn't be free.

"To place him in a position of such esteem the world will yearn to kneel. And offer their necks. Of course I envy him. Why wouldn't I?"

He is understandably envious. What an absolute unfair joke that that cesspool of a person, that demon, gets such a high prize for being anything but pure evil. Having done none of the dirty work to achieve it. His success built entirely off the suffering of others. Especially, Astarion's. Is there no justice in the world?!

From his lens, I can understand why he would want to complete the ritual. Pulling it off would feel like a justified prize for all he has suffered. Doing so would take away anyone's ability to hurt him on any level. Mental or physical. He really does believe it will grant him safety after decades of having none. A prize for pain. Finally.

But it's another impossible choice for him to make.

Choice 1: Ascend

Defeat Cazador and he gets everything he ever wanted. Power, life, freedom.

The price? Send seven thousand souls, including the innocent, straight to Avernus to suffer for all eternity. Wiping out every living memory of the sins committed. All the shame, mistakes, misdeeds, gone. The only people left to speak of it are his companions. A minuscule number against thousands.

That does sound delicious. Destroy all evidence of your sins and gain ultimate power. What's not to like?

Choice 2: Sabotage the ritual / release the spawn.

( yes i know there is a third but my Astarion didn't pick that route.)

Cazador is defeated and he gets only one thing he wanted. Freedom.

The price? He forfeits unimaginable power and is cast back into the shadows to remain a spawn. The thousand or so souls he wronged survive and could demand retribution at any time.

A seemingly bitter prize. What could possibly be worth this choice?

What indeed.

Again, no shade to the ascenders. It absolutely can be the right choice depending on your intention. Your love gets epic power and a thrall of vampire spawn are rendered harmless. Win win. I get it.

But, after all the inner and outer battles of belief against himself, MY Astarion made the decision to give all of those suffering souls their free will. Free to have the chance to save themselves, find space in world, find purpose, and find love just as he had.

This elf, soaked in pain and agony, frightened of every intention he could not control, choked by rage and envy. Chose mercy for others at his own expense.

What in the healing powers of forgiveness and acceptance is this?!

The level of selflessness and strength it took to make that decision is mind altering.

That one act of empathy raised him to a level beyond what Mephistopheles could ever offer him. He overcame the limiting beliefs set upon him by others. Won the ultimate boss fight of dominating his own demons and became a hero even Drizzt Do'Urden would be proud of.

No gods or devils required.

That, to me, is the ultimate "ascension".

(Swoon..)

"But he didn't do it on his own. It took his peers to talk him down. He wanted to do it."

Did he? If you listen, every time he talks about ascending with your character, he is seeking approval for it. Which means deep down it is not sitting right with him either. Otherwise why would he give a damn what you think?

Sometimes we need our friends and loved ones to remind us that who we are in our most genuine state is more than enough for anything. To have another soul look at you and say "I enjoy the hells out of your essence. Don't change it." means so much. Sure there are those raised with enough self love and confidence they don't need outside validation. But for the rest of the bruised and sore souls, it's like cool water poured on parched ground. Softening the shell and allowing growth to happen.

And I think Astarion was no different. He needed to hear that in that moment. He needed to know that his closest companions accepted and loved him for who he was. Not for who he could be. That there was nothing shameful or wrong for being truly himself. Forgive himself for deeds done beyond his control and chose his own path in life.

He was just surrounded by villains, not friends. He was not a monster because of his vampirism. He was not pathetic for having a thoughtful soul. (have you seen some of his dialogue with Durge and Karlach?) And realized he deserved more than he allowed himself to believe he did.

When we know better, we do better.

We are the product of our environment. Be sure to check yours.

"You believed in me-believed I was enough just the way I am."

He doesn't need to be a lord for me to hit my knees and offer my neck. I would be, am, absolutely proud to stand at he side of this "weak" elf. Because if weak means being sweet, silly, proud, forgiving and evolving. Then give me weak.

He may not have the power to concur the world. But he has the power to capture mine.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So we hide away and never tell. You decide if darkness knows you well. That lesson of love, all that it was. I need you to see.

You got that power over me. My, my. Everything I hold dear resides in those eyes. You got that power over me. My, my. The only one I know, the only one on my mind. You got that power over me."

Dermont Kennedy

[irmakkockan]

WEAK HERO CLASS 1: JUST KILL ME, WON’T YOU?

In honor of WHC1’s Netflix debut - and knowing WHC2 is coming soon - I paused my BL journey (again) to watch this.

Well.

I think this might have broken me.

I am… Sad. Furious. Angry. Crying my eyes out. Heartbroken. Exhausted. Losing my mind. Oh my god.

Violence begets violence begets violence.

If you don’t stand up for yourself, you’ll get beaten down. They will never stop feeding off the weak. They’ll come back. But if you do stand up for yourself, they’ll take revenge. You’ll (have to) retaliate, and they’ll try to settle the score. It never ends either way - a vicious cycle of unnecessary cruelty.

All this - just because no one was given any tools to express their feelings.

The parents are absent. The adults turn a blind eye.

Fists are easier to throw than words.

Boys are taught that pride matters more than healing, that violence is a rite of passage, that power cements your place in the world.

It’s bullshit.

And it’s real.

Yes, there’s dramatization - this is still a fucking TV show. But if you think daily bullying is less traumatizing than getting beaten with a fire extinguisher, I need you to wake the fuck up.

At the end, we’re all rooting for Si-eun. The underdog needed to strike back, to take revenge.

But do I feel relieved? Vindicated? No.

It just feels empty.

As empty as Si-eun feels, sitting silently beside Suho’s hospital bed.

There’s no hope. No redemption. No justice.

Just bruises, broken bones, and a ventilator working 24/7.

Honestly? Fuck this shit.

I think it’ll be an understatement when I say that the cast is impeccable.

Park Jihoon delivers a tour de force - chillingly precise, heartbreakingly human. THE EYES. Jesus Christ.

He didn’t need dramatic monologues. He stole every scene with silence - tension in his jaw, weight in his eyes. Watching him was like watching a fuse burn in slow motion. Controlled. Terrifying. Unmissable.

Choi Hyun Wook’s Ahn Suho is steady, grounded, dependable. He never starts the fight, but he will finish it if you mess with someone he loves. Honestly, he’s the soul of their little group. He’s also probably the closest thing to the hero of the series and watching him end up unconscious, maybe never waking up? Just wrecks me.

Oh Beom Seok… Hong Kyung plays him with terrifying subtlety. You almost forget about him - until you realize he’s been unraveling the whole time. Desperate to be needed, seen, chosen. His affection turns into obsession, and when that flips - it hurts. That damn Instagram request. God.

But heart of the show is Si-eun and Suho, together.

Si-eun is all sharp edges, quiet rage, isolation. Suho is emotion, fists, unwavering loyalty. And somehow, when they collide - it’s chemistry.

Suho chooses Si-eun. Over and over again. With his fists, with his endless food requests, with that steady presence that says: “You’re not alone anymore.” And Si-eun, who never needed anyone, starts to lean. Just a little.

They’re two broken boys, finding warmth in the wreckage.

And for a brief, fragile moment - it feels like maybe they could survive. Maybe they can even live a little.

Maybe.

So when this whole thing comes crashing down, the grief hits harder than just losing a friend. It’s the death of a fragile hope - of the quiet, almost-possible future Si-eun had long stopped believing in, only to find again in the warmth of unexpected friendship.

And that’s what ruins you. That’s what doesn’t let you breathe.

That’s why I’m not okay.

At all.

[elene78-blog]

The fact that Jeremy is so evasive in his thoughts and that we don't know anything about his situation until he reveals it to Jean (when Cody said he would be dishonest, indicating he doesn't talk about this with just anyone) tells me that Jeremy denies himself having feelings about his family. I think he also refuses to think about how he allows his partners to treat him.

He listens to what others think, but he doesn't feed into what they tell him; he doesn't think about it. We don't know anything about it until he has no choice but to tell Jean or we see it ourselves.

I get the impression that Jeremy is so used to the idea that his family has a "right" to hate and mistreat him that he doesn't even consider it. The only thing Jeremy seems to be aware of is that he needs to be considerate of them and discreet. But… He can't let it all go because, deep down, he knows he's trapped, and he externalizes this discontent by going to boys who mistreat him, punishing him precisely for not doing what he should be doing: Being the son his family wants.

It's a vicious cycle.

My family wants this, and I deserve it, so I'm good, good, good, and I accept everything… But deep down, I don't want this even though I deserve it (I think I do), so I go to boys to express that I "don't want this" and rebel… But I deserve it… So I allow even these times when I'm meant to "calm down" and rebel, to punish me because I'm not who I should be (because I deserve it).

I think that's Jeremy's train of thought.

In reality, what Jeremy wants is a family and people who love him unconditionally… But he thinks he doesn't deserve it, but he wants it… But he doesn't deserve it… But it's the only thing he wants with all his might.

Jeremy is finished unless he decides to break the cycle, and I think Jean and Jean's situation itself is what will give him the push to make up his mind.

[utilitycaster]

Thought i was over it but i saw a post today that reminded me of how awful the villians of c3 were for whatever Matt tried to do. Anyway what are your thoughts on Ludinus staying a m9 problem and c3 should have had a villian from the continent?

Hi anon,

I think that it's fine that Ludinus was the Big Bad for Campaign 3, and I think the issues with the campaign being set on Marquet are not with him being the villain (honestly, Ludinus using his position of power in the Dwendalian Empire to seize control of an archaeological site in Marquet could have been an interesting avenue of exploration). Again, this was always intended to be a campaign of all parties coming together and setup from previous campaigns culminating.

Perhaps the larger issue is that the villain who was deeply of Marquet and heavily influenced by recent wars on the continent, Otohan, had about as much personality as hot dog water. This oversight was only made worse by the party and narrative doing absolutely nothing to explore the Apex War that shaped her (and presumably would have given her some motivations other than "Stabbity Stab; Ruidusborn").

Ultimately, though, the flaws of Campaign 3 are not any specific story element. They are the following two things and two things alone, both of which feed off each other in a vicious cycle.

Bells Hells did not know much about anything and did not particularly work to remedy this fact, and when faced with a plot for which the players were grossly unprepared, endlessly spun their wheels in pointless debates rather than making decisions or taking action.

Matt had a very specific plot in mind with very specific beats to hit and when the characters consistently failed to hit them, sort of didn't do anything to properly course correct and give the party clear guidance.

As a result we ended up with indecisive and incurious characters begging the world to give them any sort of answer instead of making any sort of interesting choices or bold move because they were so terrified to be wrong or bad that they ended up being something worse for fictional characters: dull and annoying; and a DM who either didn't see their listless flailing and throw them a rope, or who threw them multiple ropes with no guidance leading to a Buridan's Ass situation. Analysis paralysis in individual D&D characters can be interesting (Keyleth) but unexamined analysis paralysis in an entire party is a worse trait than being murderhobos, who might at least be fun to watch, and so, there we are.

Anyone blaming specific plot elements and not "the party was a bunch of people who didn't know shit about dick and no one was willing to seize the reins and say We're Going Here, and Matt didn't intervene" has a weird axe to grind. It's characters poorly suited for the story and DMing that didn't help shape them into something better suited. That's it. The Mighty Nein would have been a better party for this plot (assuming a similar first 10-20 episodes as C2 had, anyway) in that they were motivated people who made their own choices, but Vox Machina, with no ties to Ludinus whatsoever, would also have been better for the same reason. The Bad Kids from Fantasy High would have been better. Your average suburban book club who has one member who is really on top of picking books and emailing people would have been better. It's not that Ludinus was the wrong villain; it's that Bells Hells was an exceptionally and uniquely bad party for this story.

(I do think Ludinus's ending is dumb, but most of the flaws he had during the campaign can be chalked up to "a better party wouldn't have let him talk so much and he wouldn't have worn out his welcome so hard.")

[medusas-daughter]

As much as I love Gothic romance and dark romance and vampire romance and I do so much, I'm so glad they made Nosferatu pure terrifying horror.

It has romance elements, but not between Orlok and Ellen, but between Ellen and her husband. And it's not dark, just both overwhelmingly romantic and sad that Ellen has so much trouble believing she is worthy of being loved while Thomas cannot fathom not loving her.

Orlok is such a deliciously unredeemable villain. He's not the misunderstood villain with the heart of gold, he's the merciless cold hearted villain who preyed on a young girl's vulnerability and robbed her of her sense of self and her life before it even began, the villain to kill. Ellen and her husband both very much want him dead. And his abuse of Ellen goes so deep that she starts questioning whether she deserves it, she starts believing she's unworthy of Thomas's love. And that's such a specific symptom of trauma, the shame and guilt yearning for more pain to keep feeding the shame in a vicious cycle.

Orlok claims to want and even love Ellen. And it makes him a compelling villain, it makes him a terrifyingly real villain. It makes him a villain we all know in our own lives. How many sexual related crimes are committed by people close to the victim? How many abusers are husbands, lovers, parents? How many of us have been plagued by the personification of our worst nightmares who talks about loving us while destroying us with their very hands?

Orlok's treatment of Ellen is an allegory for grooming and rape. And it is done well, it is not glorified, it is given the weight that it carries in real life. And Ellen's ultimate fate is a tragedy. And in no way is it implied that she deserves it or that she was meant to meet it all along. It is both the ultimate proof that she is in fact innocent despite what Orlok had her believe all along, and a tragic end. And I'm not even mad at it. There is catharsis in tragedy as much as in slaying the monster.

Anyway, gothic horror is so back. Unredeemable villains are so back. Practical effects in horror are so so back and so incredibly good, cannot stress this enough. This movie has joined the roster of iconic horror movies that compose my personality.

[briarpatch-kids]

Just in case nobody's heard of this before... this is the pain cycle. The idea is that chronic pain feeds on itself and starts a vicious cycle.

You hurt, and it's distressing and scary and you want to avoid hurting yourself more, so you take it easy for a while until you feel better, but during that time alarm bells are still going off and your body is screaming at you something wrong and you're losing strength and flexibility, so you get more nervous and more injury prone and eventually you fall or something and hurt yourself more. Which causes more pain and more anxiety because what you feared was true, you got hurt again and your body is screaming at you that something is wrong, so you decide to rest and take it easy until you're feeling better...

The way I work on keeping myself out of that cycle is trying to give myself other feelings beyond just pain and try to reconnect to my body in a positive way. But you have to start slow, I started exercise just doing a loop around my house and took at least 6 months to take it to three miles. Now I can casually run 3 or 4 miles in my chair, and I get to feel the sun on my face and wind in my hair and my arm muscles working hard to move me.

[sadseungmin]

♡ breaking up with a psychotic lee felix ♡

psychotic lee felix x reader | gender neutral | dead dove

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!felix will kidnap you *✧･ﾟ:*

Felix's reaction would be swift and terrifying. He will kidnap you, taking you to a secluded, heavily secured location. Felix will create an enforced captivity where he controls every aspect of your life. He removes any means of communication with the outside world and ensures you are completely dependent on him for survival. You find yourself trapped, with Felix justifying his actions as a way to protect you and keep you with him forever.

"You know what I say whenever your parents come over to discuss your missing person's case? I tell them, 'I'm so sorry I couldn't protect y/n! I'll never stop looking for them. I'll never love another like I loved them.' Then I fake cry. And they buy it. Every time. They tell me your disappearance isn't my fault. Isn't that sweet? How naive they are."

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!felix will poison you for control *✧･ﾟ:*

Felix will use subtle poisoning to keep you weak and dependent on him. He administers small doses into the pastries he bakes for you of a substance that makes you feel constantly ill and disoriented, ensuring you can't muster the strength or clarity to escape. Felix would then position himself as your caregiver, providing "medicine" (in the form of sugar pills) and comfort, reinforcing your reliance on him. You are caught in a vicious cycle of illness and dependence, unable to break free from Felix's grasp.

"My poor baby, you've made such a mess! Did I feed you too many chocolate chip brownies? Is that why you threw up everywhere? Don't worry, I could never be disgusted by you. I'll clean you up and then bake you another batch! How does double fudge sound?"

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!felix will make veiled threats & show conditional kindness *✧･ﾟ:*

Felix alternates between kindness and veiled threats to control you. He showers you with affection, gifts, and attention, crating moments of false security and hope of escape. However, any sign of resistance or attempt to escape is met with a chilling calmness as he makes it clear that there are consequences for disobedience. You learn to comply out of fear, understanding that his seemingly gentle demeanor can quickly turn dangerous. His conditional kindness keeps you in a constant state of anxiety, unsure of when the next threat will surface.

"Darling, I adore you more than anything in this world, and I'll move mountains to see you happy. But know this—if you ever try to leave me, I'll make sure you understand the true meaning of pain. Stay with me, and you'll have everything; try to escape, and there won't be a place far enough to hide from my wrath. Don't cry, baby. All will be fine if you just listen."

[defectivegembrain]

They should make reassurance that actually reassures you permanently instead of feeding into a vicious cycle of reliance on repeated reassurance