#hey look i sinned

[gio-goose]

Tried painting him

[technicalknockout]

guess what day it is🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉

[arcsin27]

oopsie! accidentally thought about katsuya "brother complex" suou in hysterics upon finding his baby brother burned and stabbed in front of the shrine! holding his hand and trying to stop all that goddamn blood on the way to the hospital! sitting by his bedside as he recovers, the kid laying there so scared in the hospital! silly me!

[an-ruraiocht]

sometimes self compassion is the opposite of letting yourself off easy. sometimes self compassion means holding yourself to account and demanding you do better which is so much more work than just punishing yourself. making yourself feel bad so that you feel better is a lot easier than putting the work in to actually repair harm and be less shit. it doesn't feel like that when you're down in the self punishment instinct hole and your brain is telling you that you don't deserve not to be hurt but. it's true.

[windupaidoneus]

something so concerning going on with them i fear. meant for each other 🫶

[sotogalmo]

12:22

Nevermore by sasakure...... Such a Luka song but like. Also. Ivan- but I see it as like. How similar they are

[biomic]

nonchalantly discussing monster attacks over dinner at a fancy restaurant is as agito-coded as it gets

[aromanticasterisms]

yes yes arlecchino backstory sad lore interesting animation cool as hell but MOST IMPORTANTLY. signora and scara fatui coat LOOKS.

[cosmoboba]

[j2zara]

And what if I said Jace’s neglect and Porter’s control of J2 were two sides of the same coin and born of the same rot. What then

[lemonduckisnowawake]

What if I theologized hanahaki? What then? Like if hanahaki was a symbol of unrequited love that desperately wants to be requited? Because God so loves us enough to want to be with us but also loves us enough to hold back lest His holiness turn us to ash because the flowers have become so embedded in us. So what if the flowers are a sign of our own rejection of God and the desperate craving we all have deep inside for Him...but also our way of melding with something that needs to go and thus being unable to be saved from it because we made it us in a sense? Like...

...

There’s a new wave of people who claim to be without the Flower Rot, also known as Hanahaki and Hua Bing.

These people claim that, without surgery, they have managed to completely remove the Rot. When asked what had caused this, one woman who wished to remain anonymous told the reporters, “It was…God, I guess. But He was also a man. He just…said that because the Rot’s too rooted in us, even if we wanted God we’d just burn with the flowers. But the only way’s to have His love take it away. So He said He’d take Rot and fade because He was a man, then come back because He’s God, and give us love to remove the Rot because He’s both.”

Her explanation aligns with similar ones from other witnesses with the Rot gone. They claim that the risk of fading with the removal of the flowers was taken by a man. But that His Godliness also signified that He could “grant His love” to permanently dispel the Rot.

As a refresher, it is quite unclear why the Rot suddenly began to manifest inside our lungs millennia ago. The most common legend is a tale of how humanity and God once lived in harmony in a garden. However, one day, man rejected God and told Him they could create a garden of their own. Though He offered a chance to repent from their rejection, having told them previously that such an endeavour would bring death upon them, they refused to acknowledge their wrong and were thus severed from His power and acceptance.

The proud declaration of humanity was not a nonsense claim, as they indeed found they could produce beautiful plant life for a garden.

However, that came with the cost of death, for these flowers grew inside them and were expelled through bloody coughs and sneezes.

Such is the duality of this universal Rot—a sign of divine rejection, some say, or a sign of our own ability to create beauty made more glorious through our own sacrifice, as others say. Of course, there are others who say this Rot is more complicated than simply a sign of our glory or a rejection from the divine, but those claims as much less popular.

In recent times, science has discovered that this Rot is simply a natural and inborn function of our body. “In fact, it’s inaccurate to call such a natural part of human experience a rot,” Doctor Kinuyo Yahagi of Hanahaki Research Association said, showing a bloodied purple iris of hers. “Yes, it is unpleasant but it is a fact of life, just like death and hunger and blood.” She then gave an animated explanation how there was a particular genetic wiring within our lungs linked to the brain’s rejection and affection chemicals. If the two are stirred in such a way, a pathway is made from the brain to the lungs triggering the genetic code and causing flowers to bloom.

“It can be removed by surgery,” a surgeon from the local medical center said. “However, studies have shown it is risky as it can affect your ability to love and process rejection, so it’s up to the patient to take the risk or not.”

Activists have cried that a difficulty in loving is not a sign of deteriorating humanity, and that those who choose the surgery are still acceptable.

“Hanahaki or not, we all still die, right?” a video of one academic debate records a professor speaking to one of the new Rot-less people.

The Rot-less person—a professor as well—nods thoughtfully. “Yes, but now, my death becomes a death without the disease signalling our separation from the divine, which is no true death at all.”

The ethics of removing the Flower Rot surgically still are debated, though much support for it has arisen in the past few decades. Research into these new rot-less people has also steadily increased, all done with the utmost legal and ethical restrictions to the volunteer’s rights.

“Hopefully, we’ll get to the bottom of this and find a better way to remove the disease,” Dr. Yahagi’s co-worker who wished to remain anonymous said. “Natural or not, it is still unpleasant. Why continue with something that is now proven to not be inevitable?”

[prismatica-the-strange]

I'll Forgive Your Sins | Tell Me What You Want To Hear

Warnings: 18+

Two times Aleksander asked what his nickname meant and the one time she told him

The bold in Krynn's speech is meant to signify her speaking in Falrosen.

Word Count:1.4k

Secrets by OneRepublic | Picrew Link | Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Springtime. The whole Little Palace garden is in bloom and, for once, not by her hand. But that doesn't mean she can't help them along.

"Poor thing," She coos, kneeling down by a small, slightly wilted tulip, "You're not getting nearly enough sun."

She doesn't even think before waving her hands, parting the flowers above it to let the sun in.

"I thought you wanted to keep that a secret?"

She jumps at the sudden voice behind her.

"Goddess above!" She gasps, hand covering her heart, "Are you trying to kill me?"

He smirks at her startled expression, clasping his wrist behind his back, "I suppose you're lucky it was only me."

She pushes herself to her feet, brushing dirt from the front of her purple kefta, and wagging her finger at him playfully.

"Only you," Her hand drops, "Did you need something, general?"

He gives her a look that she doesn't seem to get and he sighs, "Krynn, what day is it?"

"What kind of question is that? It's- Oh!" It dawns on her and her eyes go wide, "We had a meeting..."

He nods and doesn't understand why he isn't upset with her for wasting his time by making him wait.

"I'm so sorry, Aleksander," She says, "I was pulled outside by the lovely weather and I lost track of time... again."

"I noticed."

She snorts, a sound completely devoid of grace, but he can't help the grin stretching across his face.

"Yes well," She turns back to the flowers, "I never claimed to not be predictable, Virre'tcha."

She feels him come up behind her.

"What does that mean?"

He's asked her before but she's never given him a straight answer, if she's given one at all.

"It means, even I can't be constantly spontaneous," She teases, "Honestly, I think anyone would find that completely exhausti-"

"Not that."

Her chin raises slightly and she glances back at him, biting her bottom lip in the world's cheekiest smile, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, Virre'tcha."

Late summer. The sun is hot, it doesn't want to rain, and the summer carnival is in full swing.

Usually, Kirigan's Grisha aren't allowed to attend because it would make it far too easy to take or injure one.

Krynn though... She sneaks out.

Since the fiasco that was her presentation to the royals at the start of the season, she's yearned for a festival that would remind her of home and the drunken laughs of civilians in the street seems like the perfect place to start.

Fresh vines get her over the walls without being seen and she's in the clear. Not many people know who she is or what she can do, so she's free to do as she pleases.

She eats, drinks, and makes merry with strangers. Perhaps she drinks a bit too much, but that thought never crosses her mind.

What she doesn't expect is one of the off-duty Little Palace guards recognizing her and rushing to alert the general that one of his precious Grisha has left their confines.

It's barely twenty minutes by the time Aleksander receives the news, gets dressed, and heads out to the party. And only another ten after that he finds her.

She doesn't notice him at first, but the people around her do, quickly backing up when he comes up behind her like a stormcloud.

"And what do you think you're doing here?" His voice surprises her for a moment but then-

"Virre'tcha!" She giggles, nearly tipping over when she turns to face him, ale sloshing out of her tankard. Her words slur together in a messy mix of Ravkan and Falrosen, "What are you doing here? I thought you didn't like parties."

"My Grisha know better than to come to these... gatherings," He scolds, gripping her upper arm and pulling her away.

"Yes, I know. They were alll very adamant on that fact," She admits, "That's why I sneaked out."

"Sneaked out? Was my protection so horrible that you had to run away?" He scoffs.

"I was just bored, Virre'tcha," She pouts, moving to hug his arm, "How was I supposed to resist the sounds of a party? It's not like you were going to take me."

He sighs, glancing down at her as she stumbles with him.

"You're drunk," He states, "And don't call me that. I can't stay cross with you when call me that name."

"Virre'tcha, It was only a little fun," She bats her eyes up at him, tugging him down to kiss his cheek, "I'm sure you were just worried I'd find someone less stubborn to make sheeps eyes at."

She's teasing him again, he doesn't know how, but the tone of her voice gives her away.

"No need to worry, my love," She nuzzles her face against his shoulder, "'m all yours."

He isn't quite sure what she means, but he isn't going to argue that fact.

A maid meets them at the entrance of the Little Palace, but he waves them off when Krynn holds tighter to his arm.

It's very late and the halls are black and silent, save for their footsteps and the creak of the floorboards.

"You're not actually mad at me... Are you?" She mumbles, the dark of her surroundings saturating her mood.

"I was," He says, but a glance down at her troubled frown makes him sigh, "No, love, I'm not mad."

He helps her into her bed, not bothering to help her change, and turns to leave. He only stops when he hears her murmur that pet name, all soft and sweet-like.

"Stay," She insists, reaching out for him, and he does, sitting on the side of the bed. She turns her face into his hand when he strokes her cheek, "...Virre'tcha."

"What does that mean, love?" He asks quietly. Maybe she's too drunk to tease him about it.

She mumbles something he can't quite understand, her eyes falling shut as she falls asleep.

He chuckles to himself in the quiet before leaning down to kiss her forehead and then going to bed himself.

"We can't continue this," He says quietly.

He'd just told her everything. His past, what he's done, the fold, everything.

"What?"

"Fryce," He sighs, squeezing her hands, "If I continue to let you hold my heart the way you do, then you will age and be ripped from me just as everyone has before you, and there will be nothing I can do to stop it."

She blinks, nose scrunching as she takes in all the information she'd just been given.

"What if..." She looks up at him, "I didn't?"

He shakes his head and pulls away from her, "I've searched for centuries, but even with amplification mortals simply-"

"But what if I wasn't mortal?"

He looks to her with furrowed eyebrows, "What?"

"What if..." She swallows and moves to stand in front of him again, "I was never mortal?"

"Love, please," He pleads, "Now isn't the time."

"What if I lied?" She continues, wringing her hands, "Aleksander... in light of everything you've just told me, I think I may have a few truths of my own to tell you..."

"When I arrived at the Little Palace I told you I was running from my father who had arranged my marriage, but none of that was true."

"But your father-"

"Died," She tells him, "A long, long time ago. The man who came here was an elder from Falros who had seen me at the docks in Ketterdam, When I saw him... I ran."

She sighs and pinches between her eyes, "I suppose I should start from the beginning."

"I was born on an island in the northern sea, nearly four hundred years ago."

His eyes widen as she goes on.

"For the first two hundred years of my life I was worshipped as a living god, but I was never given the chance to be my own person and lead my own life, so I left. I spent the next century and a half in West Ravka and the countries around it, save for the few decades I had groved."

"Groved?"

"That's another whole thing that isn't important right now, my point is," She reaches up to stroke his cheek, "I'm not mortal, not really."

He stares at her in disbelief, a million questions swirling in his mind.

"Then why..."

"No one chooses to fall in love, Virre'tcha," She smiles softly, "Human life is a fleeting thing, why waste it worrying about what might be?"

He's quiet, the terror of watching her turn to dust as the decades pass fading.

He moves to cup her face, tears forming in his eyes and kisses her.

"Shh," She murmurs, when he pulls away, his forehead pressed against hers, "I know, Virre'tcha... My Darling Black Bird."

[samcat18]

I complain often about my growing list of wizards of the coast sins, but one i'm really never going to get over is making mord's tome of foes into """legacy""" content. Why. It's got the best/only description of the blood war, and devils and demons, which are used as enemies so often but rarely elaborated on in any kind of useful way outside of a module. Why isn't this still core content. Why is everyone at wotc a coward. UGH

[sysig]

It’s almost their time of year ft. some redraws (Patreon)

[ultrasopp]

Game review from real gamer. i am not finished at all but saga of sins. Yeah. Platformer where everything looks like stained glass and u turn into monsters to enter people’s minds and fight sin. U can pet the dog and also enter the dog’s mind (he is free sin)