#i DO love talking about myself i will not be doing it more often

[fatalism-and-villainy]

This is gonna sound like a morality cop sentiment without the context that I am a person who is deeply enthusiastic about the aestheticized, eroticized violence of NBC Hannibal. But with that context in mind… I often find myself deeply put off by how violence is handled in fanfic, particularly post-canon fanfic.

Because Hannibal is a very dark show. It is thematically centered on the darkness that resides in all human beings, as embodied by the irresistible black hole that is Hannibal Lecter - a theme that most obviously manifests in Will Graham’s corruption arc, but also in subtler, more mundane ways with characters like Alana Bloom and Jack Crawford, who keep repeating their mistakes despite their self-awareness. And it’s a very nihilistic show, concerned not with ethics but aesthetics, with the pursuit of beauty in the absence of moral scruples.

And yet, violence and death always feel significant on this show. Despite (or perhaps because of) the frequent surrealism and black comedy in their presentation, they feel as if they have gravitas. And that’s precisely because of the show’s aestheticism. The corpses we see are so exquisitely mounted, and presented with such deliberation and intention, both in-universe and in the show’s cinematography. And thus these deaths feel as though they have weight, as though they mean something - even if the only meaning we derive from them is that they look beautiful, if ghastly, or that they convey cinematic symbolism.

But there is so much Hannibal fanfic where the violence feels so… disturbingly banal to me. Where the deaths don’t have any narrative weight and are completely trivial to our main characters. And this is imo completely out of keeping with even Hannibal Lecter’s own philosophy on the show, when he says that life is precious - not because he places particular value on life’s preservation for its own sake, but because he fully understands the gravity of what he is doing. His arrogance and sense of superiority is contingent on the understanding that the taking of a life is a serious thing, and a transcendent thing. Not flesh and blood, but light and air and colour. And I don’t see much light and air and colour in the kinds of fics that I’m talking about.

This is all very much entwined with the fact that a lot of these representations of violence seem to be bound up in the understanding that the show, and Will’s arc, is subtextually queer. And it absolutely is. But I often get the sense that these representations of violence, and the relationship between Will and Hannibal, are trying to overlay them with a very 2020s Positive Queer Representation approach, wherein Will and Hannibal’s love is misunderstood by the world, and thus their violence, as the symbol of their transgression, has to be portrayed and received by the audience an unalloyed good.

And this feels hard to explain, because of course this is a show that is very much about the pleasures of transgression. And it invites the viewer to share in that pleasure, in all the aforementioned ways. It’s drawing from a very 19th century Wildean mode in that regard - a sensibility that irreverently collapses all transgressions into one, and deliberately refuses to differentiate between the morally repugnant and the merely socially unacceptable. And that is very powerful as an engine for queer subtext, as it takes the very real feeling of being corrupt and tainted and wrong and leans into the seductive glamor of that corruption, rather than attempting to counteract that narrative (in ways that can feel, when in the throes of internalized homophobia, shallow and artificial).

But, within Hannibal, that thrill of transgression is inextricably bound up in horror. The pull of violence - and the bond it engenders between Will and Hannibal - is irresistible, but it is also a source of deep seated pain and terror. And those things are fundamentally not separable. There’s a sublimity to violence, and to desire, on this show - pleasure and pain, wonder and horror, are intertwined.

And a lot of the portrayals of violence-as-transgression as symbolic of queerness in fanfic just don’t grasp this. There’s an attempt to paper over the horror and the sublimity of the violence, and how it serves the queer symbolism. It always strikes me as though writers grasp that symbolism, but are trying to fit it into the mold of representation-as-a-means-of-social-advancement. It never lands for me and it leads to the aforementioned callous disregard for life that I just find distasteful. Which is not to say that I think portraying violence and murder in a manner that strikes a similar note to the show is an easy needle to thread - certainly not. (Not the least because it’s hard to translate the show’s visual language to writing.) But it is something I notice and that breaks immersion for me very quickly.

[kigieri]

Wiser

Fernando Alonso × Reader

A nice birthday breakfast with your favourite person.

A/N: A birthday post for myself! Even though it has already been some time. It's short and sweet, just something I gifted myself. It is really hard for me to capture the way Fernando speaks English. I gave it my best shot.

This story on AO3.

It was nice to be able to celebrate her birthday with Fernando. There was no bad blood over him having to spend this time of year at a racetrack halfway across the world, but it was nice to have him home for it, too. They could celebrate together, and even had the time for a little party with friends and family.

She woke up to Fernando stroking her hair, lightly so as not to wake her. She stretched as much as possible without actually compromising the comfortable position she was in, and stretched her neck towards her lover for a kiss. "Happy birthday, hermosa." His voice was a bit rough from sleep, but she could practically hear him smiling.

After turning around, she laid her head on his chest. "Good morning," She muffled into his chest. A slight chuckle could be heard from him. "Do you want to stand up or stay lying?" She craned her neck to look up at him from her lying position and raised an eyebrow. "Stay."

Fernando nodded, returning to stroking her hair. After laying together for another half hour, they decided it was time to stand up. Fernando made her sit down at the little table in the kitchen. They found it more comfortable than the big one in the living room. He was not fond of cooking and refused to do it most of the time, but for her birthday he scrapped together all the talent he did not have, as she slyly remarked.

A few minutes, and her helping out, later, they had food in front of them. In between, they talked about plans for the winter break and what they had been up to while apart.

"If we're spending Christmas in Spain, should we spend new years at home? I think that would be nice." Fernando nodded, not seeming convinced. "Do you want to go to the Alps?" She looked up from her plate. "You don't like it that cold." He shrugged his shoulders. "I will survive." A smile crept onto her face.

She had wanted to spend new years in the Alps for a few years, but had repeatedly indulged Fernando's, and her own, love for warmth and had returned to sunnier places. Him suggesting, offering even, to spend a week in the high altitudes made her feel giddy.

She took a sip from her cup, smiling silently. They had talked about getting engaged, both thinking that they were far enough into their relationship and secure enough for the next step. This meant that Fernando might plan a proposal, either around Christmas while visiting his family, or over the year change.

"I would like that, if you're really okay with it." Fernando waved his hand. "Can go skiing and cook a lot, will be nice." After that, they continued their breakfast until Fernando looked back at her.

"What do you want to do in the morning?" They had planned a get-together with their friends for the evening, but for now they were free. She shrugged her shoulders. "Just want time with you." All the time they spend together was precious, his career often separating them. "We can stay a bit and then maybe go to the harbour. Maybe drive out a bit." Fernando nodded, always up for a bit of boat driving.

After standing up and refilling their plates from the stove, a mischievous grin took over his face. "How does it feel? One year older?"

She rolled her eyes. "We talked about this, I'm getting wiser. Just as you are." Fernando chuckled lightly. She picked up a bit of food and chewed it before muttering, "And a bit older."

Silence settled over breakfast, broken only by a remark here or there. After they finished, Fernando took on the cleaning duties. She walked up behind him, sliding her arms around his waist and laying her chin on his shoulders. "Thank you, this was really sweet."

Fernando shook his head lightly.  "Everything for you, mi vida." He put the plaid he was washing on the drying rag and wiped his hands dry, before turning around in her arms. "On your birthday and every other day, we are together." He leaned in, kissing her. "I love you." It was her instinctual response. The smile on her face was mirrored by the one on his. "Te amo también."

@kigieri 2024. All rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.

[blueblossomrose]

Pairing: Fellow Honest x Fem!Reader

Summary: Fellow sees you in Playful Land with your friends, thinks you're a rich girl by the way you act and the fact that you study at Night Raven College, and tries to get money from you, only to end up falling in love.

Notice(s): Inspired by "The Lady and the Tramp", Female reader, Reader is the MC, but Yuu(ken Enma) is also here, not nsfw but slightly spicy? We kinda have a french kiss here.

Request?: No.

Notes: I refuse to call him Ernesto, except in a specific Rapunzel-like fanfic where he is Eugene.

Comments and reblogs are very welcome ♡

He could have sworn you were a rich girl. I mean, look at the way you carried yourself! Like a true lady. Eyes wide open, paying attention to everything and everyone, with a polite and kind smile on your face. Your excitement was restrained but evident. You always sat with your legs crossed.

As if your good behavior wasn't evidence enough, you were still wearing that damn uniform. Night Raven College. An elite school.

He didn't think he needed more. He has his conclusion.

Even if you are not extremely rich, some money you must have. And he will get it from you. He and Gidel need it more than you do, anyway.

He thought about how he could do this. First he had to separate you from your friends. Leave you alone with him.

Fellow approached slowly, like a predator carefully observing its prey. He adjusted his posture, donned an unassuming smile, and gave you a slight nod. He knew he needed to be strategic, charming, but not invasive. After all, winning over someone like you required delicacy.

“Excuse me, miss,” he said, his voice as smooth as silk. “I couldn’t help but notice that you’re enjoying our park with such enthusiasm. It’s always a pleasure to see such a charming visitor here.”

You looked at him curiously, a glint of surprise and interest dancing in your eyes. He knew he had your attention.

“Oh, yes, it’s a wonderful place!” you replied, your voice polite but with a touch of excitement. “I didn’t know it would be so much fun!”

Fellow made a gesture of slight mock indignation, placing a hand on his chest.

“Are you saying you underestimated our Playful Land? Oh, that breaks my heart!” He let out a light, relaxed laugh, as if you were already friends. “But I’m glad you’re enjoying it. By the way, let me introduce myself: I’m Fellow Honest, one of the park’s managers.”

“Manager?” you asked, tilting your head slightly. He nodded, as if carrying a weight of responsibility on his shoulders.

“Of course. Not only do I help take care of the park, but I also make sure our guests have the best experience possible. And speaking of which…” He glanced around, as if searching for something. “I noticed your friends seem a little scattered. It’s a shame to leave you alone.”

You shakes your head, showing that you were comfortable on your own. “They went to explore some attractions. I preferred to stay here for a while.”

It was exactly the break Fellow needed. He gestured with his hand, as if he were putting on a great show.

“In that case, perhaps I could be your companion? I can show you the secrets of this place that no one else knows about. After all, it’s not often we have such special guests.”

You hesitated for a moment, considering the offer. There was something in his eyes, in the way he spoke, that was hard to resist. “Okay, of course! Why not?”

Fellow’s smile widened, and he offered his hand, like a gentleman ready to lead her. Inwardly, he cheered. This was the first step in the plan.

But as they walked together, something unexpected began to happen. As he talked about the park, making jokes and telling charming stories, Fellow noticed something he hadn’t expected. There was something in your laughter, in the way you responded to his words, that made his heart race. It wasn’t the kind of racing that came from getting what you wanted, but something more genuine, more dangerous.

He tried to ignore it. He tried to remind himself that this was a scam, nothing more. But with every step you took together, with every smile you gave him, he felt the plan begin to slip away from his control. Why, suddenly, couldn’t he stop looking at you?

It got to the point where the two of you finally arrived at the location Fellow had so carefully planned. It was a corner in the back of a restaurant, near one of the park’s quieter attractions, where there was little traffic. Despite its modest location, the place felt cozy. String lights hung unassumingly, illuminating the space with a soft, golden glow, creating a curiously intimate atmosphere.

Fellow pulled out one of the chairs for you, giving you a slight theatrical bow as he spoke. “Milady, allow me to offer you a seat in our 'VIP area'. Not all visitors are lucky enough to experience this!”

You laughed softly at the act, accepting the chair. Fellow seemed pleased with your answer, but there was a hint of nervousness in his smile that he quickly tried to hide. He discreetly signaled to Gidel, who was hiding behind a nearby dumpster, waiting for the right moment.

As you looked around, taking in the peculiar surroundings, Fellow quickly took the chair next from you, leaning slightly closer to you. He propped his elbow on the table, resting his chin on his hand, as if he was completely absorbed by your presence.

As soon as Gidel brought the food, you couldn't help but just eat it. You liked to eat a lot, and personally you stopped holding back.

Fellow watched in shock as you shoveled a spoonful of spaghetti with meatballs into your mouth.

You ate... a lot. He was surprised to see that graceful young lady eating an entire plate so quickly, but what surprised him even more was... how charming you still looked, even with your cheeks a little stained with sauce.

“You’ve just so cute...” Fellow complimented as you ate.

"Hmm?" you lifted your head, your cheeks puffed up with food.

He chuckled, gently poking your cheek. He was quite amused by your innocent behavior. It was an endearing quality that drove him crazy. He set down his silverware and looked over at you. A smile on his face.

“You’re even more beautiful when you eat, y’know. Like a chipmunk.”

You can't help but blush, laughing awkwardly as you swallows your food. “I-Is that so?... That's so kind of you!”

“It’s honest too.” He said, almost with a wink.

You can't help but laugh at the slightly joke.

He smiled as you laughed before going back to eating his food. Every so often, his eyes would flick up to look at you. He let out a mental sigh before deciding to get cheeky. He reached over with his foot, brushing against your ankle before slowly traveling up your leg. He was testing his luck, seeing how you’d react. Would you kick him? Move away? Let it continue?

You didn't seem to take it as flirting, so you just smiled and looked at him, thinking he wanted to say something.

He wasn’t expecting you to not notice. How dense could a person be? He almost wondered if you were actually doing this on purpose. Or maybe you just don't understand indirect flirting?

He decided to test the waters a little more. He moved a little closer to you, and when you were a little more distracted, he took the cutlery out of your hands with a smooth, light pushing motion.

"Huh?" You looked at him, with some confusion.

He simply placed a finger over his lip in a shushing gesture. He set the cutlery down before grabbing a napkin. Then, with a smile, he reached over to your cheek and wiped away a small sauce stain. "What about... we try something different? In some places, it's refined to eat without cutlery..."

"Eat without cutlery?"

He gave you a sly smile as he nodded. He took off his gloves, picking up a strand of spaghetti. "Try it. I promise it's not as barbaric as you think."

You shyly picks up the end of the spaghetti and puts it in your mouth. Fellow hums in approval at your action. He leans forward a bit more as he take the other side of the spaghetti.

Fellow’s expression was sly, his eyes slightly half-lidded as he let your faces get closer. He slowly started to close the distance, using the excuse of eating the spaghetti. His face was only inches away from yours, to the point he could feel your breath on his lips.

You didn't even move away, just standing there, your breathing becoming sporadic.

He inched closer, a smug smile on his face. He got you right where he wanted. When the distance was only centimeters apart, he licked some sauce off his lips, using it as an excuse to run his tongue right over your bottom lip.

You shivered, widening your eyes.

Fellow chuckled a little when you shivered, knowing exactly what effect he was having on you. He licked his lip again, now only a few millimeters from your own.

“You taste… even better with sauce...” He mumbled out, low.

"M-Mr. Honest..." You stuttered.

His smile grew at your breathless words.

“Hm? What is it?” He teased. His tone, the way looked at you… it was like a hawk that found its prey.

"W-Why... y-you look at me like that?..."

He chuckled to himself. He moved one hand up to your cheek and cupped it gently, his thumb running over your cheek.

“Can’t you tell, darling?” He purred out. "You look like a bunny right now, you know?... and... I guess you know what foxes do with bunnies."

...

"Where the f*ck is MC?" Ace questions Yuuken as the two are heading towards the cotton candy stand to find Floyd, Jade, and Lilia.

"Now that you mention it, I haven't seen her since the prize booth..." Yuu says thoughtfully, and soon becoming desperate. "OH MY STARS! We have to find her!" Yuu was about to run away, but then he turned back and grabbed Ace to go with him.

[nemainofthewater]

Halfway through, and it's a close race with Mei Changsu in first with 19.7%, then Zhou Zishu with 19.2%, and finally Pei Huai in third with 18%.

Tag propaganda under the cut:

Pei Huai

#see i don't think mcs is like going out of his way to eat poison#poison just happens to him more often than anyone around him would like#pei huai on the other hand has means motive and opportunity by @sinni-ok-sessi

#I also immediately went for Pei Huai#he literally does this and doesn’t even have bullshit poison immunity he’s just Like That by @jianghushenighans

#polls#i chose pei hua but let's be real#it's pei hua and tang fan staring each other down and competitively doing poison shots#while a bored dong'er reads one of tang fan's wips with the bottle of antidote in one hand by @foxofninetales

#nearly voted li lianhua until i saw pei huai there#pei huai is an absolute terror in the vicinity of poison#tang fan: what have you got there? pei huai: A POISON! tang fan: NO!!!#pei huai is the spiders georg of the poison world#average person yadda yadda poison huai who lives in a cave adn drinks 10000 a day…#(ps i’m love him ❤️) by @unfortunatelycake

#polls#pei huai#my beloved mad scientist#he does it on purpose for science no duress required#but hed probably do it in exchange for a new world veggie too#he’s just Like That by @auroramagpie

#poll#the sleuth of ming dynasty#please it's (with caveats) so good#pei huai#ok i also adore ying hecong but he won't think twice about asking you to poison yourself whereas lao pei will make you talk him into it by @a-sea-with-no-shores

#i absolutely agree with everyone saying pei huai#didn't he eat a tomato or something bc he was told it was poisonous and was disappointed it wasn’t? or am i remembering that wrong by @marquisguyun

Mei Changsu

#I am forced to disagree with my esteemed colleague#on the basis that 'medicine that will give me a month of full function in return for burning out my remaining lifespan' is.#reasonably classifiable as poison. by @morkaischosen

#nirvana in fire#i mean.... he DID do that#more than once even by @acesgroupchat

#you know who I voted for#(mcs)#but maomao would get the vote has she been included#antri by @xiaojingyan-jingwang

Song Qingshi

#soooooo many strong contenders here#but i have to go with song 'i am disfiguring myself with poison on the regular' qingshi#boy is so full of poisons. he's not normal about it. he thinks he's normal about it but he's not by @noswordinourlake

Wu Xie

#there are so many poison-eaters...#but I'm choosing Wu Xie#because he gets surgery so he can inject snake venom directly into his nasal organs#no one wants him to do this#it makes them sad by @vergoftowels

Ying Hecong

#oh my god this is the hardest poll yet#the number of these who have literally eaten poison on purpose in canon....#I think I'm definitely forgetting details about pei huai based on the tags... anyway makes sense that he's winning#I picked ying hecong because I figured other people wouldn't be choosing him but he's a little freak and deserves some recognition#but truly. it's SO hard to choose here. they're all winning the 'idiot who would eat poison' award to me by @silver-grasp

Li Lianhua

#lmao#i voted li lianhua#it doesn't need an explanation#he literally ate something he was allergic to that he considered poison#because it wouldn't affect him bc of the bicha poison#but tbf most of the characters i know on this poll would#zzs definitely would#mcs would if it furthered a plot of his#i know three others by name only so i can't judge by @fire-burning-brighter

#llh literally ingests poision and knockout drugs constantly#they dont effect him but its amazing how many people you can convince when you can just hit poisions whenever#feel like he ingests at least one (at least semi-) toxic substance every plot arc by @fealiniel

Other

#my mind immediately went to Apothecary Diaries#maomao#jinshi#the apothecary diaries#but applies to MCS too i guess 😂 by @indelibleme

#I feel every single one of these is i_cant_read.png at the sight of a warning label#if they're in the mood#see also:#yu she and zhong wan from 'those years in quest of honor mine'#yu she in particular has never seen a toxic item that he didn't immediately stuff in his mouth while maintaining deliberate eye contact by @woolasaur

#i think it's gotta be wei wuxian#especially emphasizing the part where he does it for Science#and then spits it out by @dripping-moonlight

AITA for preventing my friend from eating POISON?

They claim that it's for science/to mess with people/it just looks so tempting!/don't ever give me an explanation, but I don't think it's wrong to ask them not to literally poison themself? However, they've told me that it's 'enrichment' and I'm a 'spoilsport'. So AITA for stopping them?

Write-ins, propaganda, and images are welcome!

[religious-extremist]

I need guidance on something. I find myself committing sin (lying, anger) often - and I want to repent but I feel like it would be a lie to God because I know I will sin again, because I have fallen into these habits. I want to get better and seek God's forgiveness but I absolutely do not want to make false promises to God. I have asked other Christians about this but they all give me similar responses - "Just repent anyway, it's okay if you sin again," or "These sins are so minor, God doesn't care," or other things like this and it feels like being led astray to even consider these possibilities. I am asking you because I feel like an Orthodox Christian sticks more firmly to the Bible and not to modern interpretations of it.

Eagerly awaiting your response, and please pray for me. :)

St. Porphyrios used to say, “Do not fight to expel the darkness from the chamber of your soul. Open a tiny aperture for light to enter, and the darkness will disappear.”

All habitual sins are rooted in the passions: lying and anger are the fruits of pride, which is the seed of corruption. It is necessary to struggle against them and not despair of our salvation. We cannot give up the fight against the desires of the flesh; it is impossible to be a Christian while indulging in the pleasures of sin.

God gives us the weapons we need to fight the passions through the Church; through frequent confession and communion; through prayer and fasting. I recommend you talk to an Orthodox spiritual father, as I am only a layperson, and a terribly sinful and foolish one at that!

The only way to avoid sin is to have perfect prayer, to have perfect stillness of the heart, to hold fast to Christ and keep Him in the center of your thoughts at all times. Have you ever heard of the Jesus prayer and the hesychastic way of life?

St. Macarius of Optina said, “Pray simply. Do not expect to find in your heart any remarkable gift of prayer. Consider yourself unworthy of it. Then you will find peace. Use the empty cold dryness of your prayer as food for your humility.”

I wish to say, his advice can be used to advance in all of the other virtues aside from prayer. Pray for God to keep you from sin, and if you find yourself falling into sin, use the shame of sin as food for your humility.

St. Isaac the Syrian also said, “As salt is needed for all kinds of food, so humility is needed for all kinds of virtues.”

While Elder Ephraim said, “Grass does not sprout in trampled ground; likewise, passions and wickedness do not sprout in a humble soul. As long as we lack humility, God will not stop humbling us through trials until we learn this important and most salvific lesson.”

So you might wonder, how can I gain humility? When you find yourself angry, look inwards and remember your sin against God. Remember the unmerciful servant, the fool who received forgiveness for his debt from the King and then assailed a fellow servant for owing him much less than what he, himself, owed the King. Pray for those who sin against you, and thank God for the persecution you face, because He allows you to face temptations in order to heal your soul of its passions.

“In order to abide in the love of God it is essential for anger and 'hate' to attain their maximum intensity but be directed against the sin that lives in me, against the evil active in me - in me, not in my brother.” St. Silouan exhorted.

Most importantly, no one can attain these virtues unless they are in obedience to a spiritual father. People fall into delusion thinking they can live a spiritual life outside of the Church, but in doing so, they follow the whims of their heart and nourish not their souls but feed the evil passion of pride in their hearts. Disobedience was the first sin committed by man in Paradise, and it is by obedience to a spiritual father that we free ourselves from the harsh judgment of God.

Please forgive me and pray for me, inadequate and late in my answer. You are welcome to send me a message if you wish to speak. It is hard for me to answer these questions adequately without conversation, the answer is so vast and encompasses so many facets of the spiritual life that cannot be explained in a short paragraph by a stupid person like me, so I recall instead what the saints have said.

The spiritual life is mystical, you must participate in the prayers, services, fasts, and sacraments of the Church in order to find answers; it is not something I can give to you with words, but it is an experience of God. “God is the Lord and has revealed Himself to us!” The only way to know God is by divine revelation, not by mere will, and we find God revealed to us through His Church! “Taste and see that the Lord is good!” Indeed, He knocks at your door, only you must answer and meet the Bridegroom yourself.

I am praying for you. May the Panagia be with you! May God have mercy on us, my dear friend,

Prayer for the Granting of all Virtues by Saint Ephraim the Syrian

Grant me, O Son of the Good One, that for which my mind yearns, and join to it that which is pleasing to Thy will.

Grant that I may choose to do good and in no way deviate from Thy will.

Do not permit me to be a wicked and hypocritical disciple who violates Thy commandments.

Protect me from thinking that I can walk along Thy path merely for the sake of appearance and thus by my hypocrisy deceive those who see me, inciting them to proclaim me blessed.

Grant that my heart might please Thy greatness in secret, and that my just life might glorify Thee publicly.

May truth be a mistress to guide Thy worshipper; may it preserve me in chastity both near and far.

Deliver me from the misfortune of knowing Thy law, yet lacking the desire to please Thee.

Vouchsafe me the company of people who are simple, but experienced and wise in the performance of virtues.

My flesh is weak. Fortify it with Thy strength. Help me, break the arrows of the cunning enemy, and number me among the hosts of Thine heirs.

Grant me, O Lord, ever to be among Thy dominion and to do what is pleasing to Thee. And whenever I begin something good, do Thou, O Lord, give me strength to complete it.

I know, O Lord, that I have sinned against Thy will. Clearly do I see that I have transgressed Thy commands. But do Thou, who makest Thy sun to shine on the bad and the good, deign also to shine Thy light in my clouded mind. And sins — those murderers and robbers who have taken up residence inside of me — will be driven out by this Thy light.

The Evil One sees in me no wickedness that did not come from him, for it is because of him that I have become wicked. I am, however, conquered by him through my own free will. The Evil One has entangled me because I myself instructed him to do so.

The slothful and the timid run from Thy yoke; Thy love shames the negligent.

Praise be to Thy goodness, to that mother of all teachers. The blows that they deliver to bring the stubborn to their senses are perhaps quite painful, yet sympathetically do they offer healing to the penitent.

Worthy of veneration are Thy Father and Thy Holy Spirit, Who rejoices at our return!

[rosenfey]

"how you see yourself" meme

⊱ tagged by the dear @dekarios, thank you so much fray!

character: it's faerene, my oc, made in here. she's a self-insert, she looks like me. i gave her all the things i disliked about myself and now i love myself the way i am thanks to her.

style: a mix of cottagecore / dark academia / vintage / victorian fashion. we need to bring this shit back asap (though that won't stop me dressing like that either)

object: mushrooms but its more complex than that. i love the duality of life and death they represent!! springing up from something dead, death being a gate to something new!!! much like how we preserve the memories of our loved ones and people who lived in the past!!! we are never truly dead!!!! you cant kill a memory in a way that matters!!! just like fungus!!!

place: i was torn between a forest and a graveyard so this is an abandoned forest graveyard in my country!! forests / graveyards are truly the only two places other than inside where i truly feel sane. because they are quiet, there are no (alive) people around, and if they are, they don't tend to perceive me as much!!! and i love nature and how calm it is and graveyards often are surrounded by greenery and trees and its just!!! its a thing ive been doing ever since i was a child. i live both next to a forest AND a cemetery so thats where i always ran to when everything felt like too much.

animal: i was torn between this bunny and another bunny holding a scythe because lbr i am both a dainty pink lady AND can have a sharp weapon to walk around to assert dominance. :3c

song: eughhhh im a florence + the machine girl because her entire vibes and songs are just. running in my veins ever since i was 15. anyway. if i had to name specific songs it would be mainly from this album and it would be these: blinding, i'm not calling you a liar, my boy builds coffins, drumming song, rabbit heart (raise it up). i cant choose from those they are all equally me thats the end of the sentence.

job: i want to be a weird (very important) and off-putting (equally important) but also cute (super important) fey of the woods that can talk to the dead and plants and grows mushrooms in her weird af little garden. so i hope i am at least projecting some of those vibes irl.

food: baked potatoes. im a slav and you can pry those from my cold dead hands

colour: very specific shade of pink. like dusty pink. old pink. mushroom pink. pink you can see in the nature. earthy pink. but i also love love love autumn colours like toned down red, brown, and white.

⊱ tagging: [un]like this post to be added / removed.

@thanekrios﹒@lavampira﹒@euryalex﹒@starforger﹒@thefrostyshepard

@florbelles﹒@aldwirs﹒@pawnguild﹒@archonfurina﹒@ladyinthebluebox

@inafieldofdaisies﹒@feykiller﹒@zahra-hydris﹒@noughtomaton﹒@corvus-rose

@ferwynter﹒@melancholicrainstorm﹒@sylvthara﹒@katsigian﹒@rindemption

@vilnan﹒@eldensrings﹒@claudiawolf﹒@therapyvibes﹒@sibeal

@epheyang﹒@lotusfaebell﹒@anoramactir﹒@gallusneve﹒@lutebard

@brightaxe﹒@spectordameron﹒@merdruid﹒@lurakha﹒@lord-woolsley

@shaweetiehs﹒@corffiser﹒@thedeadthree﹒@quendiviner﹒@pinkfey

@azatas﹒@theviridianbunny﹒@heartfluttered

[fourstarsoutofnine]

To get away, Chapter 5

Things we don’t speak of.

Not beta read lol

Tw: talks about ptsd and healing, and legend self loathing but are we surprised? No.

“So.” The traveler said, eyes drooping as he and the veteran walked out of your room. He was still exhausted.

“So.” The veteran mirrored him.

“Are we going to talk about that?”

The veteran took a deep breath and heaved a sigh. “Link. There are some things we don’t talk about… things we don’t speak of….” He took another breath. “This is one of them.”

“Often, those are the things we need to speak of most… you know I’ll understand more than anyone.” The traveler put a hand on his shoulder.

He turned to him slightly, a pained expression on his face. “…but will you? Will you really?”

“Have I ever given you a reason to think otherwise?”

The veteran stalled, looking off beside the traveler’s head. “…no.”

“Exactly. Let me in.” His grip on the vet’s shoulder tightened slightly. Comfortingly. That pressure was comforting.

The vet pulled him down the stairs and outside. He was never good at talking about his feelings and trauma, and goddesses forbid anyone else being around to hear it. He took a deep breath and looked off, not wanting to look the traveler in the face while he spoke.

“…one of my adventures consisted of…” he paused. “a dream. And that was the only time I’ve ever… trusted someone with—me… and that wound me up losing who at the time I was so sure was the love of my life. I lost her to this big stupid windfish. The entire thing was fake—it was the windfish’s dream and i had to wake him up. Marin was gone after that. The island was gone.” He fought back the bile rising in his throat. “It’s all just a distant memory now but-…. All the time, I’m terrified of waking up and everything being a dream. It’s like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like I can’t let myself be happy, and I hate it. Why do I do that? Why can’t I just let myself be happy?”

The veteran finally looked over at the traveler, tears in his eyes and threatening to spill. The traveler wrapped him in a tight hug. “Fear does that, Link. Creeps up on you. Sometimes you’ll go ages without thinking about it and then all of a sudden bam. You’re back in. You feel like you’ve been dragged back, claw marks in the dirt—but you haven’t. You don’t have to start over every time you have a flashback. And you don’t have to stop yourself from being happy… you can let yourself be happy. Don’t waste your life waiting on the other shoe will drop… Cause you’ll realize it never will, and realize you’ve spent so long trying to survive that you never lived.”

The veteran took a deep breath and his shoulders shook. He was crying. That soft, quiet cry developed into a sob as years of unprocessed trauma and heartbreak came forth, flowing out like a cup of wine left under a running tap. Healing.

“If—it happened so long ago—why does it still hurt so bad?” He choked out, muffled by the traveler’s tunic.

“It’s like a bone.” He said softly. “When a bone heals wrong, you have to break it again so it will heal properly. Then you can use it.” He rubbed his back.

The veteran felt small. He realized this was the smallest he’d ever felt in his life. He always saw the traveler as his younger brother. Someone he had to protect. Someone he loved more than himself…now, he felt like the little brother. Felt like a little boy. A kid. Cradled by his older brother, hidden away from what cruelty lies outside. Safe. The veteran felt safe.

“I’m sorry.” The traveler spoke again. “I’m so sorry that happened to you… and I’m sorry you didn’t have anyone there for you then… im sorry you feel like you need to be guarded all the time. You don’t… not with us, at least… we are all here for you. Anything you need…”

The vet nodded. He sat up and wiped his eyes, sniffling. “Thanks, man…” he sighed heavily, head feeling heavy and thick from crying. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he hated it. He hated to cry. Hated feeling small and weak.

“A bone has to be rebroken before it can heal properly.” He remembered. He wasn’t weak. He was healing.

“Really.” He spoke again. “I really, really appreciate it… thank you.” He hugged him tight.

“Always. I’m always here. So are the others…” he pulled away when the veteran did. A cold breeze passed through them and they both shuddered. “We should get inside. You need sleep.”

“..i can’t go back in there with her. I don’t—“ the veteran tried to make excuses but they died on his tongue when the traveler put a hand on his shoulder.

“You can. Just go in there. You were rooming together anyway… she’s alright. Healed, thanks to whatever powers she’s got. Go sleep in a bed.” He smiled. “You’ll wish you had a bed to sleep in a few days from now.”

The veteran huffed a laugh for the first time in a good few days. “Got that right…” they made their way back inside. Everyone had gone to bed by now. They went up to their rooms, the traveler pausing while the veteran went inside. “Night, traveler.”

“Goodnight, vet.” He smiled. “Sleep well.”

The door clicked shut and the traveler went off to bed.

[paxerle]

saw your oc and not surprised that it’s a child. no wonder aoex fandom has so much pedos in it that have child characters. go and delete yourself

okay normally I don’t answer on those hate messages but this one is personal so I try my best to explain what happened to me somehow idk my English is not the best and I’m not used to talk about personal stuff online.

🌼

Hi! My name is Pax and I’m receiving hate messages since I started posting art of my favorite character from Blue Exorcist.

At first it was only on twitter. I started posting around a year ago and then people sent me messages like how they hate Arthur. I wasn’t used to be part of a fandom so I thought it was kinda normal. I just blocked the people and yes it became calmer after that. Then it started on tumblr too. I love to get questions where I can draw something in return but I also got anon questions that are just rude or weird. Luckily you can block anons too but somehow they always come back to me after a small amount of time and tbh idk what I do wrong.

I am ignoring, deleting and blocking those all the time. Don’t get me wrong I really don’t care much but saying stuff like I’m a pedo is WRONG just because I have a child OC. I’ve never drawn him in any romantic way and I’ll never do. I don’t even think about that. Why should I? OCs are often like own children and my oc Kingo is like my own son. He was originally created for a roleplay where Arthur decided to adopt him after a lot of things happened to him. They are only father and son and they love each other because Arthur is trying to be a really good dad like he always trying to do his best with no matter what he do. The point is Kingo became my OC after I got the diagnosis that I’d never be able to get own children after trying it for 4 years. It was my dream even if a lot of people couldn’t imagine how important it can be for a woman who really wants this. I build a house where everything should be safe for my future child. Getting this result of all my tests and my health conditions was a shock I’ll never get fully over it even if I pretend. My relationship broke after 8 years and I never felt so useless.

This is the reason why I created my OC Kingo. Not because I am a pedo or something wtf. It was because I found consolation in having a fictional son and that he has a family that cares about him. Thats why Kingo will always be a very special OC and I get very emotional when it comes to him.

I know I don’t need to explain myself and who the fuck is gonna read that text hmm but yes. Stop hating me I just wanna do art. Nothing more. You’re annoying go out and do something nice instead of hating each other ✨

[megabuild]

as a bdubs fan, what are your thoughts on his team kill in last life/how that affected his relationships going into later seasons? 🎤

i think the reason a lot of people struggle with this is that many of us (myself included!) are still deeply into the idea of the characters being wholly separate from their creators, but you can't really talk about bdubs' killing of tango without acknowledging bdubs the man's love of doing whatever will tell the best story. it's why he doesn't kill etho as the boogeyman, and it's why he kills tango and lizzie when he does- those decisions are conscious choices as a narrator that he knows will make more drama and incentivize people to react in more interesting ways. this carries onto other controversial decisions of his, like "betraying" impulse at the end of 3rd life, and his behaviour in double life.

a lot of smarter people than me have made commentaries on how this sort of decision-making would relate to c!bdubs and i'm not going to attempt to try and get on their level but it's something that i feel the need to mention, because otherwise bdubs' decisions (particularly in last life) are often confusing and unstrategic to those who don't watch him. because yes, obviously, looking at him as purely a character with no awareness of what's going on outwith the story of a closed death game is going to make him look callous and uncaring. if you strip away all of the overarching narratives that lead to his decisions- for example, impulse being disloyal and betraying others all throughout 3rd life only to get his comeuppance at the end, or much of tango's story throughout the whole series being tied to him being dehumanised, objectified, and treated unfairly- then they do appear cruel and unwarranted. but at the same time, looking at bdubs' character purely as a narrative force with the omniscient ability to further other storylines doesn't lend to a lot of interpretations (even if this was done very literally in limited life by not having individual episodes and spending much of his time doing "boring" tasks to assist his team).

something particularly interesting about bdubs is how his behaviours aren't really called out except by those who perceived him as having wronged them (impulse and tango), as opposed to say, bigb and pearl, who despite only having "wronged" a select few people have worse reputations across the server. i don't know enough about bigb or pearl to hazard a guess at why this is but it could be due to the people they've crossed having more respect or influence- i can't speak for impulse but tango in particular is not taken very seriously, so the last life kill within the series is almost a joke, not a genuine threat. couple this with, for example, pearl having won and placed highly in dl/sl respectively, while bdubs' pvp is often not fantastic (though again this could be a choice on his part- see the liml skizz fight) and it can be easier to see why she could be perceived as a threat while bdubs is not.

so how does it affect his teams going forward? well, from last life onwards, one could say that the only people bdubs has teamed with are those who either a) have good reason to trust him regardless due to prior experience (cleo, etho) or b) those who have little other choice due to being perceived similarly as untrustworthy (scar, pearl). one could also say that it hasn't actually affected his teamups that much because bdubs was already dismissed as a liability from the get go (see: widow's alliance in 3rd life) and so, coupled with tango's habit of making bad decisions and being dehumanised, his kill in last life was seen less as his fault and more tango's fault for making the foolish decision of continuing to stay in the alliance. so bdubs' reputation remains as poor as it was initially and doesn't take the hit that bigb or pearl's did! it's a similar situation to scar or jimmy, but with the difference that bdubs is seen as just that bit more capable, along with the fact that rather than being an inevitable danger to himself (though he is fully capable of that) he's an inevitable danger to others, whether he wants to be or not.

this is all a bit of a nothingburger ramble not least because most of his alliances repeat (the only standout one being the mounders in secret life which has been wiped from my memory entirely) but i hope it at least makes sense.

[aspenlovesmedia]

Time to talk about Martin as a Buried avatar because I am aware this seems like an odd choice in my au but I have my reasons.

So, to get a little personal for a moment (this is relevant I promise), I have often felt trapped by my own mental illnesses, my differences to others, and my need for people to like me. For a long time I forced myself to do whatever I could to help others because in my mind if I didn’t then they would have no reason to like me and people had to like me because it was better that I was burning myself out than being alone again. I think you can see the similarities between my own experiences and Martin.

The Buried I think is often overlooked, and I feel like a lot could have been done with being trapped by your own anxiety, where you’re buried underneath the worries of everyone else and can’t escape the hell of your own creation because you’re so afraid to be a bad person.

While Martin very much fits the Lonely and the Web, I feel season 1/2 Martin had such a potential to become aligned with the Buried instead. Rather than isolating himself, Martin becomes more and more desperate to help everyone around him because if he helps them, then he’s useful, but this also leaves him unable to do anything else. He’s so caught up in keeping everyone else happy (or at least as close to it as he can get them) that he struggles to do anything else. His anxiety around how others view him traps him, and the powers around him want him stuck.

Now the Shifted Gaze Martin is in a slightly different situation to canon Martin by the time the story starts as he’s actually friends with Jon. Jon is already well on his way to becoming a Web avatar, so he’s a pretty different person to what he is in canon. He’s still really not the best at socialising, but it’s more in a he says the bare minimum of words he needs to rather than he’s being a dick kind of way. To put a long story short, Martin sees this man who is completely alone, and makes it his mission to ensure Jon isn’t as alone as he is.

The thing is in doing so, he accidentally becomes the one thing keeping Jon’s humanity alive, and that makes Martin the perfect target for the Buried. Martin begins by being trapped trying to help Jon, then that extends to Sasha and Tim when he joins the archival team, and he does not have the time or energy to take care of himself. Martin and Jon’s dynamic in this au is really not the healthiest lol. I’d say it gets better but that would be a lie. Martin so strongly ties himself to the people he cares for he stops caring about what happens to himself, and when certain events happen, well let’s just say the Buried gets a new avatar.

Martin is still aligned with the Lonely in some ways in this au, but the Buried is what claims him.

Btw sorry if any of this is rambly or doesn’t make sense, I am writing this while sleep deprived lol. I feel like this will really start to make sense as I write him in the actual story rather than me explaining it this way since I have to leave out some major things due to spoiler reasons. If you have questions please feel free to ask them I would love to answer.

[silentmouthpiece]

I hate to say it, but i might as well.

It would be so easy to become a Jimmy. Hell, there are Jimmy's everywhere, but no one wants to admit or even realize that it would be easy to be just like them.

A problem we have as a people is that as soon as someone commits a horrible or unforgivable act we dehumanize them call them monsters. I'm guilty of it as well. It makes it easier to separate them from us, to believe that no real human could commit such acts. The thing is...they are human. They are like us and we are like them.

Jimmy is human. A severely fucked up one who's gone unchecked to the point of catastrophe, but he's human like us. He sounds and acts like a human, and his actions are very fucking human. His issues that spiraled so out of control are so very human that when I look at them in a certain way I see my reflection in the mirror. I see Jimmy in the ways some people walk and how they talk, but no one ever wants to see Jimmy within themselves. I wish I could say I'm nothing like Jimmy, but I can see all the ways I'd turn out like him if just a few things were different.

If I were a man, would I have absord the toxic masculinity of the fathers and guy friends in my life and all that entails? If I was less empathetic, would I let my resentment at the state of my life control me to the point I can only see the worst in others instead of force myself to maintain a sliver of compassion and optimism? If I wasn't desperate to be self-aware, would my crippling fear of failure and lack of self-worth blind me to the reality that I allowed them to hollow me out and leave me with nothing to be proud of? If a younger me didn't convince myself that I can only punish myself for anything that happens, would I have turned my anger and listlessness into a blade that cuts others instead of turn it inwards or share it with my friends? Would I inflict pain on others once I realized I could fullfil a need by doing so? I could go on.

I am also ashamed to admit that one of my knee-jerk reactions to hurting someone badly (albiet unintentionally) or realizing I was increadibly wrong about something is denial. It doesn't last forever but I will obsess over it for a long time afterwards. It's a nasty feeling and it's an instinct that literally feels like a chain yanking my brain to follow it. Primal fear feels like that as well, and it rears it's ugly head when I'm faced with confronted with reality and consequences of my actions.

I want to go back to college, but whenever my mother brings it up I get locked into a state of primal fear, insecurity and hopelessness because I crafted a reality where I have no skills, goals or ability to pursue a higher education or a life that suits me. Confronting that reality sends me spiraling down a very strong wave of depression that often debilitates me, though I've gotten better at climbing out of it so I can at least focus on my job. It still feels like I'm being compelled to enforce that reality, and that instinct overrides all better senses. It's an unchecked issue that controls my actions.

When I talk to my friends all I can see is that they have something they're skilled at or passionate about, and that they're doing what I told myself I can't. I never thought I was a jealous or envious person, but I think that's because I never resented anyone for what they had. However, I see so many instances and depictions of resentful and malicous envy/jealousy that I know they are typically linked. In a world that's more competitive than I ever was, these emotions drive people to harm each other all the time for any reason one could think of. The worst part is those people can also happen to be friends and family who love each other deep down. It's so damn common that it must be human.

I don't understand the need to force myself on anyone for pleasure or control, so I can't relate or speak on that. It's happened often enough that others can speak on it and that's terrifying, and what I see is so beyond my ability to comprehend as an actual thought process or mentality but it's still very real and human. Animals do it to and humans are animals, but we're not talking about that. I suppose the closest I can get is the callousness I can feel sometimes when I'm absolutely out of patience with someone.

All that to say is... I think I get Jimmy and his inability to accept responsibility and the cognitive dissonance of wanting to be seen as good and capable as he destroys everything and everyone he touches. I get his resentment and jealousy of Curly and that it's so tied deeply with his love for him that it twists into something noxious and all-consuming. I get how his warped perception of others didn't stop him from caring for others (mostly the guys), but it affected how and how much he cares for them. I get the casual cruelty he can dish out and I understand being locked in the worst mental autopilot to avoid the fallout of your reality that you made because couldn't accept yourself.

I hope that all made sense. Jimmy really got me thinking.

[power-chords]

She’s also going to try to track down a therapist who specializes in mood disorders, costs less $$$, and can see me sustainably long-term for talk therapy. I told her that I was having trouble processing what happened to me, probably a common sentiment in the aftermath of psychotic mania. She said I was lucky, that she sees a ton of bipolar patients, and that the fallout from mine was “nothing” (which was not to diminish the extremity of my experience, only to emphasize just how destructive the disease can be and often is). I had just enough insight, grit, and craftiness to recognize that my beliefs and perceptions were bizarre and required concealment from loved ones/employers. It was a blessing and a curse — on the one hand, very few people figured out that I was sick. On the other hand, very few people figured out that I was sick! What might have lasted three weeks dragged on for three months because the (reasonable, lmao) threat of involuntary commitment petrified me. I’d done the psychiatric ward once before in 2008 while waiting for a bed at Silver Hill to open up. Those 36 hours in a blank, padded room scarred me worse than anything I had ever done or had done to me under the influence. I was completely unprepared for the terror and humiliation that is the total revocation of one’s autonomy. The nurses were callous, and I felt like an animal. To call it dehumanizing is an understatement. As hostile as the environment in my head was becoming, I was convinced that the ER posed the more immediate danger and had to be avoided at any cost.

Somehow I succeeded. I was listening to a clinician on a podcast the other day, this guy who runs an outpatient facility for people with mood disorders, and he said that manic episodes inevitably end in one of three ways: death, jail, or hospitalization. HA HA! Not for me! Meep meep, bitch! Weaseled my way out of that one!!! (Ironically, it’s a permutation of the old AA/NA refrain I had heard so many times before: "We are people in the grip of a continuing and progressive illness whose ends are always the same: jails, institutions, and death." Dodged two bullets, apparently.) I have to laugh about it so I don't cry.

I'm sure it's annoying that I'm posting about this so much but having my whole life upended again at 36 was not on my bingo card. I had been so stable for so long, I was by all accounts a well-adjusted, normie-passing yuppie, and assumed the psychic turmoil of my youth was ancient history. It is a miracle that I was not seriously injured — for a while I was wandering city streets late at night, believing no harm could come to me — and that my career, finances, and marriage have survived intact. The statistics on bipolar illness are astonishingly grim. It’s like being in possession of a nuke inside your skull that can arm itself without warning and the codes to destroy your own life. You think of yourself as a sane person; you take for granted that the state of "sanity" is a robust and stable one, and that only the most extreme circumstances would push you over the edge. It is, and I do not use this term lightly, traumatizing to spend 12 consecutive weeks unmoored from reality and behaving in ways that are completely at odds with your personality. I am not a paranoid, angry person. I don’t hold grudges or presume the worst of others’ intentions. On the contrary! If anything, I am too trusting, too forgiving. I reflect on this past summer and don’t even recognize myself. The existential reckoning, the guilt and the shame, are overwhelming.

Last week I finished reading An Unquiet Mind and one of the things that struck me is how fortunate this woman was in three respects: the timing of when her manic depression struck (I.E., at intervals that still permitted her to finish college/her post-graduate studies), the uncommonly generous support of her family and colleagues (back when the stigma against mental illness was even worse than it is now), and probably most significant of all, access to superlative medical care (the UCLA psychiatric department) and responsiveness to lithium treatment. I benefit, thank god, from a situation with many of the same resources. She's led a fulfilling, successful, and ultimately long life. It felt good to read about a woman who played a "happy ending" out of the rotten hand she'd been dealt, whose experiences reflected so many of my own, and who seems to have retained her sharpness and verbal acuity well into old age. Cognitive decline is common as the illness progresses, and this is my greatest fear of all.

What's immediately, tragically evident in perusing the r/bipolar subreddit is just how many people find themselves in the exact opposite position. Insanity strikes at the worst possible moment; abandonment ensues from friends and employers, relatives and spouses; therapy and medication are lacking and insufficient, respectively. Financial and social ruin, and the resultant despair, are frequent outcomes. Dependency on SSDI and/or abusive and inescapable housing situations are documented left and right. The scope of the devastation is harrowing, and the guilt and humiliation that follows on its heels is a compounding cruelty. Knowing this, I am opting to feel lucky instead of unlucky. It has not been easy. It will not be easy. But I am as stubborn as they come, and I will figure shit out. "One day at a time," to borrow another 12-Step adage.

Dr. Ferrari referred me to a ketamine clinic and we're shooting for the week after Thanksgiving to commence infusions. She wants to space them out more than is typical, like every four days as opposed to every other day, to minimize the risk of triggering mania. But that's strictly precautionary and she thinks I'm an excellent candidate overall. Fingers crossed...

[rosefires20]

My brainrot today is thinking about just how incredible for a character Eowyn is.

Genuinely. The series might not have many female characters but the ones we do get go so fucking hard.

To me, Eowyn is literally the definition of defining being a woman for oneself. She rejects the roles she is given despite acknlowdging the importance and its mostly because she knows part of the reason is that she is a woman.

The reason why she is obsessed with Aragorn isn't because she loves him but because she wants what he has. She wants the freedom and courage and bravery that Aragorn has at every turn. She literally has multiple conversations during the Two Towers about how what she fears most is a cage. All this girl wants is the freedom to be and not be forced into a role. The best thing is that she literally gets that.

The segment of Return of the King about Eowyn and Faramir is literally about her piecing together what she truly wants. She doesn't want Aragorn. She wants freedom and the ability to choose. Faramir does nothing but encourage that in her. Their love story is literally one of the healthiest love stories I've seen in a long time because at the heart of it, their love is a place to return home to for both parties. Both go off to lead and help their people for a considerable amount of time before returning to each other but that does not diminish their bond. Even Faramir, I believe, falls in love with her bravery and dedication to her loved ones. The reason she went to Pelenor Fields and Gondor with the troops of Rohan was because she had things she wanted to fight for. She wanted to fight for herself, her people, and her loved ones. She is the one who protects Theoden after he is killed so that his body gets the treatment it deserves. She encourages Merry and helps him go to the battle because she sees her struggle in Merry. They feel helpless standing around when there are things to be doing.

Let's also not forget the fact that she was around Grima Wormtounge just as much as the King was. She was exposed to the same poison and awful words that eroded the king. It's even implied that her care for him is part of the reason why Theoden was savable when Gandalf showed up. She had the same power and bravery as everyone else even if she didn't see it in herself.

Then at the end of the day, SHE decides where she wants to go and what path she wants to walk. She walked the path of a warrior. The path of a princess/ruler. The path of a caretaker. But in the end she decides which elements truly mean something to her outside of gender definitions. That is what makes her character so incredible to me. In this she literally kills one of the biggest enemies in that battle with such a badass line.

[littleplantfreak]

Dreamcatcher (sfw)

(or who has dreams, nightmares, and anything in between)

Sakura has dreams and nightmares, although most of the time he only remembers snippets. Prone to gasping awake or shooting up into sitting position during nightmares. The type to have dreams about his friends and feel like they’re at fault for what happened. Once he had a dream Nirei stole his food and he wouldn’t let Nirei sit next to him during lunch the next day without telling him specifically he better back off his sandwiches.

Whenever Hiragi has a nightmare, stomach cramping follows. Whether it’s his stomach causing them or them causing further stomach distress, he’ll never know, but he has tea and medicine to settle down before trying again. Mumbles in his sleep on occasion, and it’s really kind of cute.

It’s no surprise Umemiya is a dreamer. Sure maybe once in a blue moon he’ll have a bad one, but for the most part they’re really weird and silly. Loves to talk about them at breakfast the next morning, recounting his time flying with a penguin, or being chased by trolls. He remembers the whole thing usually, though he’s such a deep sleeper that once he’s worn himself out enough and has one of those big, drool inducing rests, he just sleeps with no dreams to be had.

Suo is vague, beats around the bush, and generally likes to joke around. When he tells his friends he dreams in black and white? He’s actually telling the truth! He doesn't have good or bad dreams often, but when he does, he likes to laugh about them in the morning. Something about them looking like he’s watching an old movie makes them all the more funny.

Kaji has nightmares more than dreams, but mostly he sleeps without either. He’ll be in a shit mood the next day though, because the nightmare will have him tossing and turning, trying to find the comfiest spot on the bed that seems to have disappeared in the hour or so it took him to be woken by it. Another sleep mumbler. He can actually sleep with his music blasting in his ears pretty easily too!

Kotoha dreams most of the time. She’ll exchange sleep stories with Ume, but hers always seem to be a little tamer than his. Has a diffuser that cycles through colored lights she’ll put on if she has a dream she deems ‘not great’ and a stuffed dragon her siblings got her that guards her dreams on the nightstand next to her bed. Sometimes she’ll have it on the pillow next to her for no particular reason; it’s just soothing (and so soft and cute.)

[tinukis]

i hate that im scared to write and i hate that im so picky with fics bc i have very specific needs to be fulfilled and it is hard to meet those needs...

i soooo bad desire zolusan, post wano specifically bc in my head thats when all three get together. wci is when sanji realizes his feelings for luffy– or rather accepts that he is in love with him (two years of pining im so sorry sanji) that and also finding difficulty in accepting his feelings for zoro too so basically: sanji being a mess

but idk zolusan mutual pining but they're all idiots. sanji has his own struggles, but imagine zoro's feelings or luffy's feelings. zoro keeping them internalized because it's not that important and wouldn't change a thing, yet he yearns. luffy... the guy is unpredictable imo. and i think that focusing on his perspective would be a lot of fun. he's already happy with what he has but he wants to be selfish and ask for more. idkidk words are hard but these three live rent free in my brain and they do not want to leave send help

(ALSO. imagine discussing the death pact and luffy finding out about it... unrelated to what i said but im talking about zolusan can u blame me... like. God!!!!!!!!!!! theres this one fanart where zoro does go through with it and luffy finds out and. Sighs.)

[pj-elroycortez]

"I don't know if I can, honestly. More often than not I'm in a shitty mood." PJ commented, annoyance all over her tone. She wasn't one to put on a happy face a pretend things were fine which... had led her to a lot of trouble and heartbreak. The woman didn't have it in her to be fake. "But it pays the bills for now, nicely too so I guess I have to eat shit. Doesn't mean I won't complain about it."

It made her deflate to hear Imogen wasn't doing a pop up store here or selling some designes because she would have emptied her bank account on her without a doubt. "That's too bad, would have loved to own an original Rhitt." She gave her a little nod but smiled anyway because, for fucks sake, she was talking to Imogen Rhitt! Nothing to be sad about. And she was looking at her drawings, what the fuck! "Oh yeah I sew them myself. I'm not great at sewing and I don't love it. Like, it's not my favorite part because I can't sit still for shit but when I really want something and want it in a very specific way, I do it myself from start to finish." She nodded and took a sip of her beer so she could occupy her mouth and shut up for at least five seconds. "So, how long are you in town for, Imogen Rhitt?" PJ said her full name just because she still couldn't believe this.

Imogen smiled as she was passed the sketches, honestly glad the woman was happy to let her see more of them because from the bits she could spot from a distance they were incredibly well done. Shuffling through them she nodded her head, glancing up when they mentioned white uptight skinny bitches with a soft chuckle - because damn if she didn’t know that herself. “I remember when I used to have to do that, it was soul destroying, but don’t let it grind you down.” 

She hadn’t expected them to latch onto the mention of doing work so much, thinking she could use it as a brush off answer, but apparently not. Of course not, PJ was too enthusiastic for that. Which Imogen appreciated - the enthusiasm rather than the need for her to elaborate further. “Um…no…no not a pop up shop exactly. It’s more of a research trip.” It wasn’t a lie, after all she’d done multiple lines inspired by Theo so maybe she was going to do another. Her next could be ‘heartbreak: a look through the lens of the woman who fucked shit up so badly her ex had a baby with someone else’ … or something. Obviously it was a working title. At the mention of the specific collection she broke out into a wide smile, eyes lighting up, leaning over to look at the picture. “Oh no way! That was a really special line to me actually, I’m glad it resonated. Did you sew that yourself or just design it?” @pj-elroycortez