#hope i don't scare anyone

[kittyprincessofcats]

ICJ Ruling

Okay, let's get into this.

First of all, I get the frustration at the court not ordering a ceasefire. I was disappointed and frustrated at first too, since a ceasefire was the biggest and most important preliminary measure South Africa was requesting - and of course we just all want this horror to finally end for the people in Gaza. So I get the frustration and disappointment, I really do.

However, I do think this ruling is still a major win for South Africa, Palestine, and international law as a whole and here's why:

The court acknowledged that it has jurisdiction over this case and completely dismissed Israel's request to throw out the case as a whole. It will now determine at the merits stage (that will probably take years) whether Israel is actually commiting genocide.

The court acknowledged that Palestinians are a "distinct national or ethnic group and therefore deserving of protection under the genocide convention". Pull this out next time someone tells you "there's no such thing as Palestinians, they're all just Arabs".

The court acknowledged very unambiguously that "at least some" of Israel's actions being genocidal in nature is "plausible". South Africa has a case, officially. Israel is accused of genocide, in a way the ICJ deems "plausible", officially. This is huge. (And seriously, how freaking satisfying was it to hear all of those genocidal statements by Israeli politicians read out loud and used as justification for this rulling?)

The court might not have ordered a "ceasefire" in those words, but they did order Israel to "immediately end all genocidal acts" (which includes killing and injuring Palestinians) and submit proof that they actually did. How are they going to comply with this ruling without at least severly reducing or changing what they're doing in Gaza?

In fact, this wording might actually be more appropriate for a genocide (vs a war), as author and journalist Ali Abunimah notes on Twitter:

He's completely right. Israel lost today, by overwhelming majority (I mean, 15 to 2? I heard people predict the rulings would be very close, like 9 judges vs 8, but instead we got 15 to 2 (and even 16 to 1 on the humanitarian aid). Holy shit.) The court disimissed almost everything Israel's side of lawyers said, while acknowledging that South Africa's accusations are "plausible".

And this is important especially because of Mr Abunimah's second tweet there^. Because the question is, where do we go from here?

This ruling means that Israel is officially /possibly/ commiting genocide and that should have huge international consequences. The rest of the world now HAS to take these accusations seriously and stop arming and supporting Israel - and if they won't do it on their own, we, the people, have to make them. This is THE moment to rise up all around the world, especially in the countries most supportive of Israel (the US, the UK, Germany): Protest, call your representatives and demand a ceasefire and an end of arms deliveries to Israel.

We now have a legal case to back our demands: If Israel is, according to the ICJ, "plausibly" commiting genocide, then all of our governments are, according to the ICJ, "plausibly" guiltly of aiding in genocide. And we need to hold that over their heads and demand better. We need to do that right now and in huge numbers. Most politicians only care about themselves and saving their skin. We have to make them realize that they could be accused of aiding in genocide.

(As a German, I'm thinking of Germany here in particular: After South Africa's hearing, our government dismissed their case as having "no basis" - how are they going to keep saying that now that the ICJ officially thinks otherwise? Over the last months, people here have been arrested at protests for calling what's happening in Gaza a genocide. How are the police supposed to legally keep doing that now that the ICJ has officially deemed this accusation "plausible"? I used to be scared to use the word "genocide" at protests or write it on my protest signs - not anymore, have fun trying to arrest me for that when the ICJ literally has my back on this one 🖕🏻.)

So yeah - don't be defeatist about this, don't let Israel's narrative that they "won" (they didn't) take over. This might not be everything we wanted, but it's still a good result. Don't let what the court didn't say ("ceasefire"), distract you from the very important things that they did say. Let this be your motivation to get loud and active, especially if you live in any country that supports Israel. Put pressure on your governments to not be complicit in genocide, you now officially have the highest international court on your side.

[acertainmoshke]

I've been having a tough time lately, and when I don't have the energy for everything keeping up with social media is one of the first things I slip on. But I still care about all my writing buddies, so:

Reblog if you're not offended when people take a long time to answer asks, forget to reply to your replies, lag behind in tag games, or skip several weekly ask games.

[seiwas]

sellllllll it's meeeeee. hehehehehehehehehhehe

so for ur writing exercises.... deku + light? please? pretty please?

:3c

heheh heheh hehe niku. this will be the death of me. me writing izuku for the first time 🥲 i will only do this for you </3

contains: established relationship, spoilers for the end of the manga, aged up deku but sometime in between the final outcome (he doesn't get the h*** s*** from bakugo yet), mentions of sex and scars

deku + light

izuku only sleeps with the lights off.

it isn't uncommon; many people you know can't sleep with even just a sliver of light turned on somewhere in the room. but the difference with izuku, you learn, is not that he's unable to stand the light―it's that he refuses to.

you quickly pick up on it the first few times he sleeps over.

he fidgets in bed, pretty badly, actually. the nightlight you sleep with glows a warm yellow, illuminating the side of your face and coating him in its afterglow. you chalk it up to nerves, how he pulls at his sleeves and adjusts his position constantly; he is, after all, one of the most anxious people you know.

and this relationship―it's new. heck, even you feel a little jittery with his arm wrapped around you.

the rhythmic tapping on your hip only increases pace. you don't think he realizes it, so your hand gently reaches for his, intertwining your fingers as you turn around in his arms.

he's close, nearly touching you nose-to-nose; the proximity leaves you fuzzy, a little ticklish, so you giggle, a soft "oops," as the freckles dusting his face almost glisten under the warm light.

"hi," you whisper, meeting his eyes; they stare back at you wide in surprise, "can't sleep?"

he looks almost guilty at your question, as if you’ve caught him with the one thing he's been trying to keep from you.

"just—" his voice comes out louder than intended, prompting him to chuckle nervously as he readjusts his volume, "just winding down, sorry."

you inch closer, nuzzling his nose lightly, "it's okay."

"did i wake you?" he asks, cheeks flushing pink as his eyebrows furrow in immediate concern. his expression is something caught between stifling a grin and feeling sorry.

you shake your head against the pillow you share, strands of your hair tangling with his. "just winding down," you tease, watching as his gaze turns softer, eyelids drooping heavier.

sometimes, you think, izuku holds the world in his eyes―a deep, dark green, the color of life. most times, they look at you with wonderment, bright and alive; photos from inko tell you they're the eyes of his inner child.

on nights like this one, however, they hide a depth in them weighted by what you can only assume is time, and all that has happened to him in such a short span of it.

you try your best to understand what lies beneath them, knowing full well he'll never tell you outright what truly bothers him.

"is it the light?" you bring up, some time after laying in silence.

"hm?" he clarifies.

"do you have a hard time sleeping with the nightlight?"

his eyes widen briefly once more, as if shocked that you've caught him again. these split second reactions are ones you've learned to be attentive to when it comes to izuku.

"no," he tries to lie, but you know better as you turn to your nightstand and reach for its switch, "you don't–"

"it was hurting my eyes," you quickly make up an excuse, tucking yourself closer under his chin as you cut off his attempt to deny it again.

finding out that the light was the problem was the easy part—

you'd begun to notice much earlier on that izuku was barely rested on the nights he'd spend at your place. it was only when your old nightlight broke that you began to notice him waking up much later than you did, groggily rousing from a deep sleep.

—what was hard, was figuring out why.

at first, you suspected it was his scars.

"s-sorry, it's not—" he'd warned you, right as your hands gripped the hem of his shirt the first time you were about to have sex, "—it's not nice."

you didn't care though; you still don't care, and you've made that abundantly clear to him since. you love izuku and all his parts―all the nicks and jaggedy pieces of skin that make up who he is.

when you eventually ask him about it, with a request that he be honest with you for once, he tells you that it is and it isn't―the reason why he exclusively sleeps with the lights off, that is.

it's an odd, comforting relationship he has with his body—that he is simultaneously grateful and sorry for how its become a canvas, both painted and marred to symbolize japan’s historic last stand.

you find out the real reason when you catch him staring at his hands.

he does it often, when he thinks you aren't looking—his fists bunched up in the same way he used to watch the power of one for all course through his fingertips; the same way he used to prepare them in battle.

there’s a faraway look in his eyes that lingers, you notice—a little wistful if anything.

“do you miss it?” you finally ask. he gives you the same shocked look he does every time, as if he’s been caught with a secret he’s been trying to hide.

he’s learned a fair bit about you now, too, though—lying to you is futile when you’ve perfected reading his truth. he stares at his fists again as you take a seat beside him, moving to give you space. you rest your head on his shoulder gently, waiting.

“sometimes,” he admits, but you know it’s an understatement.

“i think about the vestiges a lot. i miss them the most, i think,” he continues, clenching his fists tightly, “i always try to reach out to them, but i guess it doesn’t work that way.”

“i… i try to replicate the right conditions every night, but…” then he lets go, stretching his fingers out wide. the scars on the surface ripple through his skin, telling its own story.

you hum, acknowledging what he means. silence sits with the two of you as you take his hand in yours, slowly unfurling his fingers until his palm reveals itself to you. it’s rough to the touch, seasoned with hard work and all that he’s been through.

“is that why you prefer the dark?” you ask softly, after some time.

it's not often that you stay up later than izuku does. when you do though, you catch him shifting in bed, moving from side-to-side. you pretend you aren't awake, but you hear him mumble their names, dwindling in volume as he dozes off to sleep.

he stares at his palm for a moment before he admits quietly, "yeah." his brows furrow as if contemplating whether to say more, but he shakes his head, dark green strands swaying to the beat of his embarrassed chuckle, "nevermind, it's silly."

"it's not."

you intertwine your fingers, sandwiching his hand between yours. a slight sheen glosses over his eyes as he tilts his head up to look at you. he draws in a breath, before it spills over.

"it's..." he finds the words, and you squeeze his hand in comfort, "it's easier to believe it was all real when the lights are out, and that maybe it can happen again."

[k2ulhu]

hulu was doing live coverage of the election until 2:00am, at which point my power randomly went out and when I reopened the hulu app on my tv the election coverage was replaced with

[ancha-aus]

Gifted Drabble - NewAgeAU - Understanding

Hey @spotaus !! As promised :3 I got a little something for you!

Your drabble got me thinking and made me consider something. (also i am so sorry if i got the ages wrong. I really tried)

As always. Feel free to use whatever you want from it or just ignore what doesn't fit <3 I am just having fun and it is meant as a gift for you <3 (also to motivate you to keep writing more about it!)

*------------------------*

Nightmare gets off his horse as he stares at the castle.

Well. His castle now.

He is still not quite used to that. Refering to it with his castle instead of his mother's.

Even after almost 12 months. He still doesn't expect to see himself in the mirror. or maybe the problem is that he expects his old self. The young teen.

The weakling. The failure.

No focus.

He isn't that anymore. He now has the magic. He is the new powerful leader of his land. And he will make this work. Even if he still has no idea what he is doing.

No. He needs to get back and make sure no one tried to rebel against him. That no one tried to hurt Ccino while he was gone.

Nightmare gets off the horse and someone rushes over to take the horse. Nightmare stares at this person and figures out quickly it is the stablehand who has been taking care of the horses.

Nightmare looks over his shoulder and motions the new people to follow him. The set of brothers, the dog monster. and Killer.

Nightmare walks into the castle as he speaks "Some of the other servants will take you to your chambers to rest and clean up. Tomorrow the three of you will join some of my other staff to see what is needed and where you fit. Killer. You will-"

"My liege."

Nightmare blinks and looks over.

Ccino has appeared out of one of the servant secret passages and walks straight towards him. Nightmare can see, and feel, when Ccino takes in the new people and just who they are.

Ccino's face turns a bit harder and Nightmare can feel the annoyance and frustration in the air "My liege!" Ccino smiles brightly as he speaks "Have you eben succesfull in finding a possible knight?"

Killer chuckles behind him and mutters "someone is in trouble~"

Nightmare knows Killer is being sarcastic. But if only Killer knew how right he was.

Nightmare however could never be worried or afraid off Ccino. For him? Maybe. But never because of him. He gives a tiny nod. The only amount of respect their places and ranks allow them when others are near "Ccino." He waves into the direction of the new arrivals "These people will join my workers." He looks at the four new arrivals "This. Is Ccino. He is head of the house." a title that will never pass away from him. Not as long as Nightmare is in charge.

Ccino nods "Pleasure." he looks back at Nightmare "My liege. If you have the time. There is a matter we need to discuss."

Oh yeah. Nightmare is very much in trouble.

Nightmare's voice is still calm as he speaks "Very well. I will meet you in my study after i made sure they go to their chambers."

Ccino feels unamused but he nods with a bow before he leaves the hall with a quick turn.

Nightmare turns back to his new... servants? He never quite liked that word but it works. He turns to his servants and feel his tentacles slowly rise from their position on the ground. They slowly start to idle again as he makes sure the new people learn where their rooms are and where to get food.

He brings Killer to a room more seperate from the others. Beyond the guard positions. Just because Nightmare wants to give him a chance and the fact he doesn't fear him is refreshing doesn't make Nightmare forget how dangerous Killer is.

Fuck this was a mistake.

What if Killer hurts people here?

What if he hurts Ccino?

Killer looks around his room before lounging on the bed "So what is the deal with the other skeleton?" he grins and wiggles his eye brows "Little secret going on there?"

Ngihtmare needs a moment as he wonders what Killer could mean. Then it sinks in and Nightmare feels his tentacles all spasm as he shudders "No." the answer is final and harsh. Killer actually looks surprised.

Nightmare holds his sight and speaks slowly "I will only repeat this once and remember this well. I don't like having to repeat myself." he holds Killer's gaze "Ccino is head of the house. He will remain head of the house. Nothing anyone can say or do will change this." he holds his gaze before straightening himself again as he moves towards the door "Tomorrow we will start training."

Kilelr sputters "We?!"

Nightmare stops and shoots him a look "Obviously. How am I to keep track of your skills and promise if i don't oversee the training myself?" and he leaves the room.

He hurries back through th castle towards his study. Sinking in and out of shadows as his mind, body and soul all know where he wishes to go.

He stops by his study and enters it.

Ccino is already in there. Studying the old masks in the special glass casing.

Nightmare closes the door and Ccino turns to him with a glare "What were you thinking?"

Nightmare gets taken back to a year or two prior. When he was still small. When he had cut himself to practise for the ritual. He hadn't been able to sleep and had been nervous about the apple ritual already. He had wanted to practise his part. to perform a blood oath to promise loyalty until death to his twin.

Ccino had caught him with a knife out.

Nightmare blinks back into the here and now as Ccino looks at him expecting with his arms crossed.

Nightmare blinks as he looks to the side for a moment. How is it that even wiht him being taller than Ccino he still feels small compared to him? "They were innocent."

Ccino looks unimpressed as he crosses his arms "Now with less lies."

Nightmare blinks and shoot his traitorous tendrils a look. No doubt they did something to give his little slight lie away. Ccino jsut raises a brow as he taps his foot.

Nightmare speaks again "Most of them were innocent. I didnt want them to get hang for something they did not do."

Ccino hums as he waits "And the murderer?"

Nightmare looks at Ccino "how did you know?"

Ccino sighs but has a small smile on his face. an old fond feeling as ccino looks at him and the tiny part of nightmare that had been stressed relaxes. Ccino just keeps looking slightly amused "There is a reason i told you to get out more. you only hear so many things from people in the castle nightmare. You need to go out to hear everything from everyone. I know who he is because i go to the market sometimes."

nightmare gives aslow nod as he looks away. So Ccino knows that nightmare brought a serial killer home. great.

Ccino sighs and sits on the couch for visitors and Nightmare joins him instead of sitting in his own chair.

Ccino looks at him "Just... tell me what happened. Why did you decide this?"

Ngihtmare looks at his hands. again slightly shocked to see the goop. It never stains anything yet it feels like a reminder. It is dirty. it isn't the holy light the powers promised. it is weird and looks diseased which is fitting for him. someone who betrayed everyone. who betrayed his twin. He may have gone it to protect dream. But even dream doesn't see this.

Where does that leave him?

Ccino's hand rubs his cheek and Nightmare shakes himself out of it. Ccino looks so worried as he rubs his skull "Hey... it is okay... i am not mad at you. I am worried about you. I am sorry if it seemed like i was mad."

Nightmare knows ccino isn't mad at him. Not like that at least. Nightmare can feel that. But he likes that ccino still tells him as much too.

Nightmare sighs as he leans into the gentle hold and touch. Ccino had always been one of the few to hold him. As his and Dream's babysitter it had been his job. But Ccino had always truly cared about them both. The moment that Nightmare could feel emotions he had been shocked by that.

That Ccino held no hatred for him. Not even a little bit. He enver blamed either Nightmare or Dream for his situation.

Nightmare speaks softly "The... kngihts you picked out. they were amazing. They showed much promise and would have made fine warriors."

Ccino hums as he keeps rubbing his skull "But?"

Nightmare sighs "They hated me. Even if with time they would eventually grow loyal and accept their place. They would forever hold resentment towards me for making them come."

Ccino hums and nods "I get it. It were only options Ngihtmare. there will be more people who fit the job."

Nightmare feels another part of him relax. knowing that Ccino still understands him "Killer wasn't afraid."

Ccino hums questioning.

Nightmare speaks slowly "He wasn't afraid. Not of me. Not of his situation. He stood up when near me. He didn't cower and he didn't hide." he sighs as he leans into the hug. He shouldn't need these anymore. He is an adult now and not that awkward young teen anymore. Nightmare shouldn't still count this much on the other "He saw me and didn't hate me. He knew who i was and didn't hate me. It was... new."

Ccino still feels unsure but he holds him still "And that gave you hope? That maybe if soemone didn't start with that hatred they could maybe become truly loyal?"

Ngihtmare shrugs. He isn't quite sure. he didn't think that far ahead. He just didn't want to lose another person who didn't hate him.

Ccino sighs as he keeps rubbing his skull and the back of his neck "I won't say i trust him. Because i don't. And I worry about you. I am scared he will end up hurting you."

Nightmare rolls his eyes as he answers "I have yet to even lose a fight and i had almost no training." all because of his tentacles and his newfoudn power.

Ccino just holds him tighter "There are more ways someone can hurt you Nightmare."

Nightmare feels the fear of before return. THe idea that somoene would kill Ccino. "If... if him being here makes you feel unsafe i will return him to the guards."

Ccino laughs and shakes his skull "Ngihtmare I am fine. I am not scared for me."

Nightmare keeps holding him as he feels himself start to shake. fears he had been trying to ignore and push away return to the front of his mind "Waht if they realise just how important you are? What if they try to hurt you to hurt me? What if they kill you to hurt me? Ccino maybe it is better if you hide." hide... hide away... out of sight out of mind.

Ccino just rubs his neck "It is okay Nightmare. It is okay. They don't know. and even if they have an idea your reputation adn the past of this country will just make them think I am someone who will be used as sacrifice last. That i will be punished last or least."

Nightmare shakes as he keeps holding the one person who remained "What if they hurt you because of me?"

Ccino is so calm and sure "then it would be on them. Not you. You don't want others to hurt me. It wouldn't be your fualt Nightmare and I will never see it as your fault. It is okay."

Ngihtmare still feels unsure. He made it obviously clear to Killer that Ccino is improtant. Killer is smart and Nightmare has no idea what he could be planning.

Another thought enters his mind. Somethign he had found early on in his ruling.

A very very damning piece of paper. a slave contract.

Nightmare speaks softly "I am sorry you are stuck here..."

Ccino shrugs as he keeps rubbing his back "Not your fault."

Nightmare shakes as he holds him "I.... I can undo it... I can give you back your freedom..."

Ccino had been taken from his home. Sold to the castle with a very clear purpose. First to be a babysitter. and later... well... Drema had been planning to be all powerful and go from young teen to adult in just one ritual. There is a reason Ccino's age had been only 6 years older than them.

Ccino had been suposed to be Dream's from the very start.

Ccino hums "A nice thought. Not that i thought about that contract in a long time. It hardly matters nowadays. Not like I can just leave."

Nightmare feels his grip tighten and his tendrils curl around them. He doesn't want to let go of the one person who cared. The one person he could count on to help him. To give a single shit about Nightmare. But... but how long will it take before Ccino starts hating him? If Nightmare keeps him here?

Nightmare holds him close "I... I can get you a horse... I can give you gold..." He will just use some of the treasury. Ccino deserves it. "I can send some guards with you on your way. You could go wherever you want. Back to your family."

Ccino locks both his arms around his skull and hums softly. an old lullaby and Nightmare stops. The amount of memories almost hurt. It was always Ccino who held him on bad nights. Or when he was sad. Or when everyone pushed him aside again.

Ccino speaks sfotly "Nightmare. When I say i can't leave i don't mean i physically can't leave. It means i don't want to. I decided a while ago i want to stay here Nightmare."

Nightmare shakes but refuses to let go "What... what about your family?" Ccino's fmaily have to love him. Ccino is so amazing. There is no way he isn't missed dearly after he was stolen from them.

Ccino sighs sadly "Nightmare... They have been killed a long time ago. The day i was taken the guards made sure i knew there was nothing to return to. even if i ran." Ngihtmare feels himself freeze. why... why had he thought?

Ccino rubs his skull "It hurt a lot but i accepted a long time ago Nightmare. I accepted that you two were my family now... and well... now it is just you. and it is okay. I am okay with that. I will always support you Nightmare." he grins "You may be older now but i like to think i am still the older brother."

Nightmare feels aprt of himself break as he just sinks fully into Ccino's hold "please don't also leave me." it is weak. it is pathetic. He should be stronger than this. He should have been prepared for this.

Ccino just covers his skull wiht his body and holds him "I am not going anywhere Nightmare. I will be by your side. I swear on my soul."

Nightmare relaxes and lets himself enjoy the comfort he should not need this badly. He enjoys it and can't help but let his eyes slide around the room. His sight finds the masks and remembers.

The masks are the highest honour. only shared with those most special.

He thinks something catlike will fit his older brother.

[hollowwish]

I don't really like. Politics post much but I wanna say something. Because the 2020 election was bad. This year is already worse and it's only March

As a queer trans american (who lives in the south, no less, and has to hear the dumbest anti biden propaganda you've ever heard) a republican getting in office is actually doomsday for me. I'm literally horrified of it. It gives me horrible anxiety for days on end and makes me feel physically sick. And if it happens I will not be able to leave immediately like I would want to.

The republicans want to kill me and i have known this since I was thirteen years old and i have just had to live with it. I have to just live with the thought as long as I'm in america. They want to kill me and all my queer friends and every other minority group they hate, they already took away abortion they have already started. And they are going to if we put them in office. Please please god do not let them put Trump in office again. I do not care who is in there, anyone but a republican. I will take almost anyone else but them.

Its to the point where I don't really care that a bunch of swfities are apparently voting democrat because Taylor said so. Yeah that's fucking insane but also it keeps literally the most evil man in this country out of office. Beggars can't be choosers I suppose.

Everyone around me is so sure of a Trump victory. They want him to fix the gas prices and things like that. People I thought were my friends really truly do not care what anti lgbt laws or whatever other horrible law they would make, as long as their personal problems get fixed. And I'm really really hoping that's not the case and that his victory is not already assured because I do not know what would happen and I am scared.

Please don't put him back in office. Just. Please. It's all I ask.

[wintertundra-art]

yeah id like to confess that i live for reading the tags people add under my art, im literally giggling, kicking my feet, twirling my hair because some of you are too adorable i honestly would offer you my heart and my soul

[ray935sworld]

Dear MotoGP riders, I NEED Y'ALL to be on your GAYEST BEHAVIOR this weekend. PLEASE.

You're racing in Saxony, a state in which a party will probably gain the majority of votes (like it did at the European and local election - 31.8% for today's time that's a lot) in the state election that has been declared as "certainly right-wing extremist" by the Office for the Protection of the Constitution.

They are quite homophobic.

PLEASE. BE GAY. DO "CRIMES" ON THEIR GROUND.

Links to my statements under the cut, they are all in German so if anyone wants more explanations/ translation please reach out

[orchideae]

A little unpopular opinion on something I've seen happen more commonly throughout November/December and wanted to address quickly for my own blog: Please never hesitate to reblog anything from me. You see me reblogging a sentence starter list that you like? Go for it and reblog it from me directly without any pressure on you whatsoever to send anything into me before doing so. You like a GIF-set or musing that I reblogged? Nab it from me, it'll brighten my day to see that we share an interest in something. I like to see interaction between me and anyone who follows me. I like to see that little activity notification light up.

Honestly, it simply reminds me that we're all part of a community, and more specifically, a fandom that consists of characters and nations that we all came to love and then share that amongst ourselves. And honestly, seeing a reblog happen shortly after me but it's from the source, creates (in my opinion) an odd sense of chosen disconnect between people that can feel awkward, it's as if we're walking on eggshells as to not rub each other the wrong way. But what's wrong about going 'Hey, I see what you reblogged, I like it too!', it even gives you potential common ground to start a conversation. We're a community, and I don't know about you, but I like seeing people interact with each other beyond merely threads and notes. It's the little things that matter, after all.

[sisterdivinium]

If we are to take a deep dive, it is best to assure the place we're leaping from is stable, so let's do that by starting with the obvious.

The subject in both of these sentences is the same: the Halo. Both of these characters have borne it. Both sentences present the same grammatical structure and answer directly to one another despite the distance in time and space between one and the other's utterances. To Ava, the receiver of these conflicting messages, both claims prove themselves to be ultimately true, for the Halo acts as a gift, in granting her a second chance at a life she never had, and also as a burden, as it imposes on her responsibilities and demands of her sacrifices she would otherwise have never known.

But the show itself openly invites us to dig deeper, so we should not be contented with the obvious alone.

If there is always more, then we must peel back the surface and peek at what is underneath if we are to grasp at least a fraction of the functioning of Warrior Nun in different levels—be it in small scale, pertaining to the characters themselves, or be it in large scale, including how all of it relates to us as viewers in the end.

These two moments of season one are but a fragment of the show’s comprehensive universe, but we will examine them closely to see just how much meaning we can find in them, deceptively simple as they seem.

As mentioned above, the grammatical structure of both sentences is shared between them: “the [subject] is a [noun]”. This could lead to some sort of direct description we associate with the act of definition, of explaining what something is, as in “the pope is a man” or, to use the same reference as Mother Superion and Shannon do, “the Halo is an object”. In fact, had this been the case, we would have been closer to Ava’s own conclusion of the Halo being “a hunk of magic metal embedded in [her] back”, as this is a characteristic anyone could ascribe to it upon examination.

Yet the words used by both former warrior nuns are “gift” and “burden”. If they describe the Halo, then it is not in terms derived from objectively observable traits it possesses (such as it being made of metal), but in a wholly subjective manner. When Mother Superion and Shannon say the Halo is this or that, both imply that it is this or that as relates to themselves. In relaying what the Halo supposedly “is” to Ava, they pre-interpret it for her, infusing it with their own points of view—their beliefs. What they say of the Halo is much more a reflection of who they are than anything the Halo in itself could be.

A) The gift

A gift is, as we know, a present. It presupposes a giver and a receiver, as well as some degree of gratitude on the part of the latter, even if justified by politeness alone.

Mother Superion, embodying the authority of the Catholic church, framed by candles and an altar behind her while making use of short, straightforward affirmations, does not need to clearly state who occupies these positions: we can safely infer that the giver here is God and the beneficiary of this divine benevolence is Ava. A definiteness is patent in the sentences that follow—here is the power of the institution at work, for if Mother Superion starts out by “defining” the Halo, now she defines Ava through it. An inversion takes place, as the woman allows the object to define the woman (as “God’s champion” who “fights in His name”) rather than the other way around. The church, the Halo construct Ava as a subject, subjecting her to certain ideas of what she should be. She is the warrior nun despite having no say in it, not being a warrior and much less a nun.

At first sight, it wouldn’t make sense to interact with Ava in these terms, especially if, by this scene, Mother Superion has already read her file. It wouldn’t be difficult to deduce how expressions crafted with religious colours might impact an audience that does not show any religious proclivities. Furthermore, the tradition of rhetoric has always taught that speakers ought to adapt to their listeners if they wish to get their point across, so either Mother Superion is incompetent at communication, lacking sensibility and skills, or she is making a calculated move—one that is fully supported by her hierarchical position. After all, superiors seldom need to rationally convince their subordinates of doing something given how the latter are compelled instead by power dynamics to get in line—or else.

The strategy doesn’t really work on Ava.

In semiotic terms, we could even argue that there is something confusing happening in this scene—a narrative phase of manipulation (wherein someone tries to get someone else to accept and do something), we could say that it contains hints of both seduction (a positive commentary on the interlocutor—it’s not just about anyone who can be god’s champion, so this is a positive distinction) and intimidation (the threat of negative consequences if the interlocutor doesn’t comply—there is an implied order in the sequence, meaning Ava cannot refuse to be “God’s champion”). Ava might not share in this world-view, but it is what the church and its followers propose: a gift from God is a positive value. Being chosen by God to do something, even fighting and possibly dying in the process, is a positive value. Lilith is standing right there beside them and, at this point, she would surely agree and see nothing of this exchange in a negative light.

Yet Ava isn’t a nun and indeed she does not perceive any of these “honours” as being desirable. Mother Superion’s stance, the image she presents of herself as a strict nun herself when Ava has been mistreated by them all her life, equally gives her no reason to be persuaded, much on the contrary.

The manipulation fails. Ava is told God gave her the gift of life… And that now she is to endanger and potentially lose that very same life as some sort of gesture of gratitude. The logic is unimpressive at best and frankly absurd at worst.

Within the framework of the church, however, it makes perfect sense. Misattributed and misconstrued as it might be, the motto of credo quia absurdum is still pertinent: “I believe because it is absurd”. That a god should grant life only to claim it back through violence is perfectly acceptable if one believes in this god’s unquestionable authority rather than seeing this demand as something ridiculous or cruel.

The very concepts of God, service, battle, duty, blessings only make sense to the faithful, something Ava isn’t. She��s just a puny little individual resisting the pressures brought upon her by a powerful institution.

She and Mother Superion are only speaking over one another, not really having a conversation; Ava doesn’t care to listen to what the church has to say, she doesn’t take it seriously, and the church likewise does not take her individuality, her person into consideration.

However, we would do well to remember that Mother Superion is not simply a mouthpiece for the church—she is also Suzanne, lowly little individual with lowly individual desires and resentment just as Ava.

And, regardless of the effacement of self that monastic as well as military institutions enforce on their members, just as Ava’s subjectivity isn’t neatly negated by direct statements in line with reigning dogma, Suzanne’s own subjectivity also seeps through her words and attitudes. If not blatantly, at the very least there is a remarkable struggle taking place within her, suggested by her use of language as well as her demeanour.

The Halo, after all, defines her as well.

If bearing it is the greatest honour, a mark of God’s favour, if it defines a person, then losing it has an equal power of definition. The distinction it confers on someone is inescapable, for good or ill, and either one dies gloriously as “God’s champion” or one survives it, survives its removal, and is deemed rejected and unworthy by this so magnanimous God. The Halo soaks up all of the positive value ascribed to it—meaning those who lack it adopt a negative one in contrast, be it Suzanne who had it and lost it or even Lilith, who should’ve had it and didn’t.

Still it is considered “a gift”, something given by God… One could say it is a form of grace.

Suzanne’s noun and Vincent’s verb have the same origin, of course, the same stem. Despite the argument between them in this other scene, ultimately there is agreement between the two of them judging by their choice of vocabulary and Mother Superion’s reaction immediately afterwards. If this were not true in some degree, there would have been little need for Mother Superion to correct Ava in the first place, for Ava calls the Halo “a hunk of magic metal”, yes, but she also refers to it as “top prize”, as a reward—which, unlike “gifts”, are meant to be earned, to use Vincent’s comparison. There is a mixture of concepts here.

Without wanting to overcomplicate this text, let us say that ideology is a certain way of understanding the world and that it constructs and is constructed by our discourse, our use of language. One of the functions of ideology is that of attempting to smother contradiction, to smoothen the world’s complexities, simplify them, rationalise them away, however incapable it truly is at accomplishing that given how reality is too complex to be so tamed. Here, then, we see a notable sort of contradiction in Mother Superion’s discourse (in her ideology) that isn’t easily solved: a detail, a problem left out from the thought system. She agrees that grace, in the form of the Halo or not, is given, yet she treats it as if it were earned. This is a crack in the wall; it’s an idiosyncrasy, proof of a subject torn between the different voices that compose her subjectivity, the fragments, the different discourses that, put together, make her up as a whole.

What could be more contradictory than calling something which has scarred her physically, mentally and emotionally a “gift”?

If we create and are created in turn by means of discourse (“you are God’s champion”), if we can only understand and interact with the world when it is mediated by discourses and their correlated ideologies, what would it have meant if Suzanne had assigned another value to the Halo?

The inversion of values would certainly have ejected her from the church. If the Halo, to her, gained negative value, thus allowing her to retain some amount of positive value, her participation in the institution would be impracticable. She would be at odds with the dominant ideology, its structures, its rules… And she would face the resistance Ava faced by assuming such antagonism.

And sure, she might have regained some sort of “freedom”, but what would she have then lost? Resentment or not, there appears to be one central, recurrent positive value, one central desire to most characters in Warrior Nun and it would not be far-fetched to assume Suzanne shares in it herself and is unwilling to part with it.

B) The burden

Needless to say that if there is a generous deal of “burden” to Suzanne’s “gift”, there is also some “gift” in Shannon’s “burden”, judging by her mentioning the family she gained through bearing the Halo. Curiously enough, the dynamic of receiving something and paying for it with that very “gift”—Shannon getting a family and losing it by the very same means—is identical to the dynamics involved in getting Ava to accept her fate as warrior nun, by “paying” for the “gift” of life by risking that very same life in battle.

Shannon has received the “gift”—and fulfilled her role to perfection, allowed to thank God for it personally… If the Halo was taken from Suzanne, Shannon is the one “taken” because of it, alongside other ex-bearers.

Here there are no euphemisms. Shannon has lived the consequences of being “God’s champion” until the very end, so she has no need for distorted truths meant to keep things in order, to avoid questioning the principle of order itself which is the institutional view. There is still a struggle (there is always a struggle) as she admits to finding something positive (a family) through her loyalty to the cause even if the cause is what kills her and other women like her. The contrast between Mother Superion’s speech focused on individual responsibility and Shannon’s avowal of how it is “too great for one person to bear” tells us more than enough about how they each envision individuality, community, the possibility of action, who can make it come about—how life and death, different paths, different destinies, inform perception of the same thing.

Their values are inverted.

Mother Superion’s “gift” is Shannon’s “burden”; Mother Superion’s tendency, while alive, to value death (“You fight in His name”) is countered by a dead Shannon’s valorisation of life (“So much promise unfulfilled. So much life unlived. And for what?”) The scenes are in direct opposition to one another, they respond to one another as mirrored images.

So much so that the reply is not merely linguistic, hidden away in dialogue, but quite evidently displayed in visual terms as well. A mirror offers us reflections that are inverted—left in place of right, right as left—and so are these scenes inverted in relation to one another: in the moment of saying the sentences we’re concerned with, Mother Superion and Shannon stand in much the same place. If we do not notice, it is because the camera pans around in different angles—with the former, we watch the scene from a point at Ava's left, while the latter is shown from an angle at her right. We are literally treated to reflected images, seen from opposite points of view.

Colour, too, guides our reading of both scenes set side by side. With Mother Superion, we are in the realm of the church and its associated earthly tones as established throughout the first season, whereas Ava’s vision of Shannon paints the dream church in a shade of blue. Blue is, of course, the hue which had been mostly tied to Jillian Salvius, to ArqTech, to science. With science comes the concept of reason, as opposed to the sepia haze of faith.

Mary is also drawn against a backdrop of bright blue sky when she is investigating the docks and relying on her reason rather than her faith concerning Shannon’s death.

Shannon’s opinion on the Halo might be just as subjective as Mother Superion’s before her, but it is filtered through personal experience and observation, through reason rather than blind belief in a mission.

Yet we are forgetting something. Ava, having died already, claims there is nothing on the other side. If that is so, why is she meeting Shannon now? And why is this meeting taking place in circumstances that reflect previous events in an inverted manner?

As dreams often reuse what we have lived when awake, re-rendering our memories, transforming them, so it is possible that Ava is not having a vision but a dream—that she is talking not to Shannon, but to some facet of herself, Ava, manifesting as Shannon after connecting with her memory through the warrior nun book.

As Ava clings to it and the knowledge it affords her, it would make sense for her conscience to finally figure out a proper retort to what she heard of Mother Superion in that earlier moment, a retort fuelled by new information and by her own reasoning. At the very least, it would be more plausible to consider this hypothesis than to assume her vision of Shannon is a real communication with her spirit granted by the Halo, for, if we are witnessing a new phase of manipulation, then the message being transmitted this time concerns the Halo’s “lifecycle” itself—and how it must be brought to an end. If it is sentient as some characters believe, why would it let Ava meet Shannon and be exposed to the idea of working against the Halo’s own interests of perpetuation?

After all, the implications behind Shannon’s words are evident: again, if the Halo also defines the woman, then it defines sister Shannon, sister Melanie and all other warrior nuns going back to Areala with one word which will soon apply to Ava and whomever follows: that word is dead, crushed under the burden.

And this time, the message, a sort of compassionate provocation (“a burden too great to bear”—even for you), hits its mark, inspiring Ava to end the tradition and be the last warrior nun.

We are not in the semantic field of religion, even if it is there, in the background, being answered to; here we are not speaking of God or battles fought for this distant general in the sky, but of family, of women slaughtered in the name of a mission. This is no longer some ethereal question but an immediate concern. Whether this is Shannon or Ava herself subconsciously masquerading as Shannon to facilitate her own “awakening”, the point gets across now that it is transmitted in language that makes sense to Ava, now that there are common values between speaker and listener.

One could even hypothesise that, at this point, Shannon being a former warrior nun lends credibility to her words in Ava’s mind as she is a woman experienced in this role Ava is supposed to play.

If so, we can also understand the bridge of empathy that is built between Ava and Mother Superion later on when it is revealed that Suzanne, too, was a halo bearer and that she, too, has carried this “burden”. Both forge new understandings of one another through this common background and a personal exchange that is nothing like their first encounter—when the “gift” is said to have rejected the older nun, when its “burden” is divulged to Ava.

As Ava recognises Shannon, so do Ava and Mother Superion eventually recognise one another as well—so do they begin to comprehend how they did carry similar values, only obscured by their dissimilar ideologies and their resulting language use. If no other, then the value of family is what binds them together through Suzanne’s new disposition to embrace all of her sisters and Ava’s newfound conduct in considering them her sisters to begin with. They come closer in the catacombs and, at last, meet halfway by season two.

Yet we, the viewers, as touched by this miscommunication that ends well as we may be, after all of this talk of gifts and burdens, we remain none the wiser on what the Halo actually is.

C) The energy source

As previously exposed, we are kept in the dark because most sentences that speak of this iconic object in the series are subjective, focused on the characters’ own relationship to it or their ideas about it rather than any substantial data on what it might truly be apart from a “hunk of magic metal” currently in Ava’s back.

Perhaps because we spend so much time with the nuns, satisfied as they are with the logic of plain belief instead of concerned with tangible, provable things that can or should be explained. The most we get is the information on how the Halo is some kind of weapon, an amplifier attuned to the bearer’s body and soul.

Enter Jillian Salvius.

While her understanding of the Halo is admittedly insufficient, her research on it limited, her available vocabulary and scientific knowledge too slim (!) to encompass such an item, she does not say something like “the Halo is a mystery” or “a conundrum” as she says of Lilith later on. It would be true, just as it being a “gift” or “burden” is true considering those who called it thus, yet Jillian uses another sort of language instead.

Being a scientist, doctor Salvius opts for what we consider to be appropriate scientific modes of speaking, that is, by creating an impression of objectivity. It is not her personal reaction or opinion of the Halo that she offers, but whatever traits she can see or learn of in that moment: an energy source, an object that defies physics, a foreign body of undefined material. Ava “translates” this as being “an alien battery”, but the fact is that we are served a definition of the Halo unlike those we had before. It isn’t much, but for once we are not given a character’s personal interpretation of it…

Or so it seems. We none of us are capable of being fully objective, for none of us can rid ourselves of our selves—Jillian posits the Halo as an energy source, which seems innocent and impartial enough, but soon afterwards we understand what that means to her.

In themselves, the words “energy source” don’t carry many other connotations. Yet, for Jillian, these words that seem so neutral and “scientific”, so clear cut, do not sustain the facade of objectivity. She has spoken of energy before, it is an active component of her research, a common word in her lexicon; to Ava, “energy source” is “a battery”, but to Kristian and Jillian, who are part of ArqTech, who know what goes on within its walls, these words automatically acquire another meaning.

Yes, that of a battery, but one with a very specific purpose. Under the guise of neutral discourse, a very personal interpretation of the Halo, just as if it were a “gift” or “burden”, lies hidden. It is an energy source—one that doctor Salvius can potentially use to power her contraption. It is a “solution”, perhaps even a “gift”, of circumstance if not of god.

And it, too, defines Ava despite herself. When it fails, Jillian says she was wrong about Ava, not the Halo, thus conflating the two.

In the end, even she who might well be the smartest character, the one most closely connected with science and concrete knowledge, cannot guard herself from letting the unsaid (or “unsayable”) slip through her lips. She, too, in spite of her apparent objective language, exhibits a subjective kind of relationship with the world around her, influenced by the ideologies that cross her being.

D) Ending thoughts

Perhaps, when all is said and done, we are never truly able to follow that maxim we’ve seen more than once on Warrior Nun.

Perhaps we simply cannot think or act if we do not perceive things as at least partially related to ourselves.

It is not necessarily a bad thing, though, as long as different views can coexist, as long as they do not trample one another, as long as one person or group don’t elect themselves as the owners of truth, attempting to eliminate all who do not follow them as Adriel tried to do. In a democracy, in a place and a moment in history where there is freedom of thought and creed and speech, the phenomenon of various voices competing for the spotlight, taking turns under it is normal and healthy.

Warrior Nun gives us a fascinating insight on the multiplicity of voices that compose a society, even if there are elements of it which seek to suffocate those voices. It is a microcosm where different ideologies, through language, are confronted with one another, where they struggle to make sense of things—and where each of those points of view over a given subject might carry a morsel of truth. The Halo is a piece of metal and a gift and a burden and an energy source; none of these ideas or perceptions necessarily exclude the other, none is “more correct” than the other because, if so, then the question would be: as regards which character?

To Ava, at least, it is all these things and maybe more.

There are attempts to implant a hegemonic interpretation of facts. The very story of Areala, Adriel, the Halo’s trajectory along the centuries, how this is “the way it has been for one thousand years” is a strategy to cement a singular view. The repetition, the constant reworking of tradition, telling this story over and over with each warrior nun… That is the church at play, ideology trying to fill in any gaps, keep things as they are, conserve them and the structures that organise them, guaranteeing that things have one certain sort of sense and not another, one value, one meaning.

But life is not stagnant and people are not all swallowed whole by ideology even when they subscribe to it willingly, as a member of a church would. There are always things that cannot be explained, things that are beyond the scope of ideology—contradictions, pesky little details that escape the invisible goggles with which we look at reality. The truth is that it is far more complex than we can contain it with a few buzzwords, man-made or divine. There is always another side, always a reply, a constant dialogue between our different ways of seeing, understanding, being and, therefore, speaking.

A more visible example comes from those scenes in season two where Yasmine and Adriel are both telling the exact same story, only through their own perspectives, interpreting it in their own ways.

The show provides many opportunities to see how varied human voice can be, how the point of view of whoever is telling the story bears a mighty influence on the narrative, whether consciously or not, malicious or not. That, in turn, may inspire us to look around us, in the real world; to look at how we are representing things, others and even ourselves as well as how others represent us through the words we use.

This is not an exhaustive study, long as it is. As said before, it is but a glance at two scenes, two little lines of dialogue which are, however, intimately connected with others, with the stuff of the entire show—with the stuff of life. We could write more on how possessive pronouns and other sorts of phrases with the idea of the Halo “belonging” to someone or being “owned” by someone are used, just to remain in the area of discourse about the Halo alone.

But the present text has given all it had to give and its author does not wish to be a burden on her readers any more than she already has been.

[eurekq]

To my Indiana followers:

Please consider signing this petition. Eli Lilly, who you should already know and have a healthy amount of hatred for, are looking to build and have already broken ground on a new complex in Lebanon Indiana to increase their manufacturing capability for weight loss drugs. Their only problem thus far has been the acquisition of drinking water; not only do they intend to appropriate 700 million dollars from our state revolving fund, which is, at least in my opinion, a gross misuse of SRF funds, they intend to draw 100 MILLION GALLONS PER DAY of water from the White River watershed, which recharges many aquifers in northern Indiana and is already currently undergoing minor drought conditions. Eli Lilly is currently attempting to steer the controversy by dominating the conversation with budgetary talk, shifting focus away from concerns of water depletion. I know petitions get a bad rap, but one town has already withdrawn water support for the project, halting it; hopefully Lafayette can do the same if enough support is shown.

[gydima]

So I haven't seen anyone voice this question before, and it could be because I missed it being discussed or because it's a fraught idea to even bring up - particularly given the OFMD fandom climate, but.

Does anyone think it's possible the S2 scene they cut for being too dark (or whatever it was they said) might have involved Ed inflicting the scars on Izzy's back? To be clear, I think that would have been a TERRIBLE plot point with absolutely AWFUL optics and implications, but it popped into my head because it's been niggling at my brain why they bothered to apply those scars to Izzy's back, only to not really show or reference them onscreen.

Up 'til now, I'd written the scars off as an indication of the kind of past Izzy had - possible time in the Navy, etc. And that may be all it was! But given how little they focused on anyone's past other than Ed, Stede and Jim (in S1 at least), my brain jumped to the thought that maybe the scars were a callback to the scene that got cut, and any reference to them also got cut.

If there's any chance that was the case, I'm endlessly grateful it didn't end up in the show. S2 fumbled Ed's healing arc in SO many ways; I can't imagine how much worse it would have been if they'd had their indigenous lead whipping the white dude who the writers spent the whole season woobifying.

(I say this all as someone who loves both Ed and Izzy, while still believing the back half of S2 was poorly written and unsatisfying for all characters involved. Please no character bashing if you choose to reply/reblog.)

[call-me-copycat]

Sorry for slow moving content/communication. I love to write, it's no obligation and if anything I'd prefer to write and draw over school anytime.

I'm just a little depressed right now, school and work together are making me very tired. I'm failing some classes and I feel very a little down because of it, I wish college wasn't so hard :⁠-⁠(

[trekkiehood]

.

[izzy-b-hands]

Was doing okay holding back all of the fear re: the potential election outcome until literally this second what the fuck to my brain lmao

[twilight-princess240]

I'm probably going to regret posting this and might delete it at some point, who knows, but I want to get this off my chest. I'll probably regret doing this on a public post on Tumblr later.

Is it weird to miss someone who you've only talked to briefly on here who deactivated their account for a reason or another, and since you don't know if there's any other social media out there they have along with the fact that you still didn't talk to them much, you'll probably never encounter them again?

Because that happened to me. I found an account by chance while perusing Tumblr, and I was interested in what posts were on there despite them being 18+ and NSFW. I honestly liked the content when looking through it and I even sent a message through the ask function admitting as such despite being unusually shy for some reason, maybe because at the time I didn't post anything (until my rant about my girl Alyssa Targaryen not too long ago) and I usually prefer to keep to myself.

I admittedly wasn't sure what the response would be and suddenly I felt like the biggest shrinking violet on the planet at the time. It was probably because it was the first time I had ever sent an ask on anyone's account, not to mention this was probably the first guy I reached out to on my own initiative outside of those I was already comfortable around on Discord. I was so nervous and to a certain extent, scared, because even though I was 22 at the time I never knew I could be so shy. I must have been pretty red in the face from my shyness too.

But he reached out to me about my ask through Tumblr's messages function, and he was honestly really kind. In the first message he sent to me, he thanked me for the kindness in my ask, and I was so surprised that he directly reached out to me that not only did my shyness kick in full force, I admittedly didn't respond to it for a month. When I finally responded, he understood I was shy for reasons I couldn't explain at the time, and surprisingly, despite my shyness still lingering, I felt comfortable around him. He assured me that he didn't feel uncomfortable about the fact that I liked a lot of his posts, which I was feeling really conscious about and had admitted to him. I felt like I could come out of my shell at least a bit, open up a little, at least to the point where I was willing to keep talking to him if we could. There were times where there were bumps in the road, where I wasn't sure if we had gotten off on the wrong foot or something or I was wondering if I was annoying or a load because of a tendency to just run my mouth at times, but overall I honestly enjoyed talking to him and his company even if it was solely through Tumblr's messages function.

However, it wasn't for long. We only talked for a few months, and even then, it was really brief and spread out partially due to different time zones. He was dealing with a lot of hate from anons who knew they could get away with it because they could hide behind screens. It was one of the key reasons if not the key reason why he eventually deactivated his blog, last year actually, and probably hasn't returned. Our final exchange, in October last year, was me wishing him luck since he was deleting his blog and possibly not returning, and he thanked me and wished me the best as well. And we both moved on with our lives.

But here's why I think I'm weird when concerning this topic and for even writing all this. It's because somehow, I miss him and feel a wish to reconnect with him and talk with him again. Aside from us talking very sparsely, I'm not sure if we even really knew each other after our message exchanging. As a result of all that, I feel like I shouldn't miss him. Yet I do, and I feel a strange desire to reconnect with him and talk with him again. I try to quash those feelings because not only will it probably never happen, to an extent I feel like it doesn't feel right to miss him and want to reconnect with him after only exchanging messages with him briefly and it being almost a year since he left.

Oh boy, this was practically an essay. While I do feel a bit better about getting this off my chest, I'm probably going to be cringing at myself for this and considering when to delete it as well. It scares me a bit, the fact that even though I didn't mention the person's name at all, someone might still figure out who I'm talking about and somehow get it to him. Well, it's still up in the air as to whether this is going to be deleted or not, but it all depends on how much I regret posting this and how mortified and conscious I feel at least a bit later over even writing this to begin with.