#i am burning with rage

[ineffablejaymee]

i have a very strong feeling the writers of umbrella academy watched supernatural and decided damn that ending was lit

[irithyllians]

unfriends forever

[hyakunana]

The Former Most Miserable Man That Ever Stepped in DGP is found saving the future with a shield and FIVE CHAINSAWS

[chloreen]

I swear 2024 is testing the limits of my fucking patience, if they don't give me Diorphysus back you'll be watching me on Netflix 'cause there's going to be a documentary about me setting major streamers' headquarters on fire

[darkwitchling]

To everyone thinking Angel dust is getting victim blamed by the show: what the fuck are you on???

The two points I've seen are his bits in his song with Husk and his solo Poison but...no?

With Poison, we need to remember it's from HIS perspective! Angel Dust blames himself for his situation because of all the abuse he's endured, so yes, a song from his perspective will blame himself. It's not shitty writong, it's effectively communicating the mindset he's in! He hates himself! If it was from another character's perspective after they had been told about what happened to him it would be more fucked! But it's not!

Okay then, what about 'Loser Baby?' That's victim blaming right?

No! Wrong!

The reality is Angel fucked up by signing a contract with Valentino. It was a bad move, and Husk fucked up by doing the same with Alastor. Husk is basically saying 'this is fucked up and it sucks, and we can't do anything about it, but hey I relate to you and maybe if we feel shitty together it'll be easier to get through.'

Husk is offering to be there for him because he relates, to make it a bit easier. Husk can't swoop in and save him, but he can make it easier. 'Hey, this all sucks but at least we can be losers together!'

A specific instance I've seen people get upset about is the moment with a bunch of neon signs insulting the characters, but that's not victim blaming! That's labels they got slapped on by hell, because hell is a shitty place with shitty people! As we've seen not all of them suck, but a lot do! Of course Angel gets called some fucked up shit, same with Husk.

I don't know how to end this all with anything except to ask people to please use a bit of critical thinking. If you still don't like the show after this then that's fine, but you don't need to try and justify not liking it with this stuff. You are allowed to not like stuff.

[ge]

lrb thinking about that ghost mentor chung myung au again its so interesting.. chung myung becoming more cognizant and aware as he trains yu iseol and he begins learning about mount hua and how long its been since he died.. if he isnt only visible to yu iseol in this au, i think hyun jong meeting the restless spirit of his ancestor would be a really touching scene, full of shame and self guilt, chung myung and hyun jong finally seeing each other eye to eye as peers who carry similar burdens in a way that isnt so onesided like in canon..

sillier thought, since chung myung as a ghost is intangible, the kids find a work around of this by building him a little portable shrine that they take everywhere with them and whenever they eat or he wants smth to drink or snack on, they just light some incense and put some food on it, and chung myung can take it and pull out a ghostly incorporeal version of whatever food/drink was on it....

imagining a scene where no one else but the mount hua kids can see chung myung and theyre at some public event or feast like idk the meng so beast palace arc banquet scene and meng so is watching them load up this tiny ramshackle shrine w food and drink and is like 'what are you doing' and the kids are like 'feeding our ancestor' and meng so bursts into praise and song about how filial and dedicated the disciples of mount hua are TO THINK THIS IS HOW THE DISCIPLES OF THE GREAT PLUM BLOSSOM SWORD SAINT BEHAVE....! SO DEVOTED AND PIOUS

[bedforddanes75]

never occurred to me he has actual haters

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 61

Chapter; Highlights (okay the entire chapter is a highlight)🤣

As requested @mysterylilycheeta I NEED TO SQUEAL IN WYVERN FANGIRL WITH YOU NOW CAUSE OH M GOODNESS THIS CHAPTER ON SO MANY LEVELS I JUST AHAKWIHUHFEJLZXBKEKA

Agony was a song in Lorcan's blood, his bones, his breath.

Every step of the horse, every leap she made over body and debris, sent it ringing afresh. There was no end, no mercy from it. It was all he could do to keep in the saddle, to cling to consciousness.

To keep his arm around Elide.

She had come for him. Had found him, somehow, on this endless battlefield.

His name on her lips had been a summons he could never deny, even when death had held him so gently, nestled beneath all those he'd felled, I, and waited for his last breaths.

And now, charging toward that too-distant keep, so far behind the droves of soldiers and riders racing for the gates, he wondered if these minutes would be his last. Her last.

She had come for him.

Lorcan managed to glance toward the dam on their right. Toward the ruk rider signaling that it was only a matter of minutes until it unleashed hell over the plain.

He didn't know how it had become weakened. Didn't care.

Still Elide kept urging the horse onward, kept them on as straight a path toward the distant keep as possible.

No ruk would come to sweep them up. No, his luck had been spent in surviving this long, in her finding him. His power would do nothing against that water.

The farthest lines of panicked soldiers appeared, and Farasha charged past them.

Elide let out a sob, and he followed the line of her sight.

To the keep gate, still open.

"Faster, Farasha!" She didn't hide the raw terror in her voice, the desperation.

Once the dam broke, it would take less than a minute for the tidal wave to reach them.

She had come for him. She had found him.

The world went quiet. The pain in his body faded into nothing. Into something secondary.

Lorcan slid his other arm around Elide, bringing his mouth close to her ear as he said, "You have to let me go."

Each word was gravelly, his voice strained nearly to the point of uselessness.

Elide didn't shift her focus from the keep ahead. "No."

That gentle quiet flowed around him, clearing the fog of pain and battle. "You have to. You have to, Elide. I'm too heavy-and without my weight, you might make it to the keep in time."

"No." The salt of her tears filled his nose.

Lorcan brushed his mouth over her damp cheek, ignoring the roaring pain in his body. The horse galloped and galloped, as if she might outrace death itself.

"I love you," he whispered in Elide's ear. "I have loved you from the moment you picked up that axe to slay the ilken." Her tears flowed past him in the wind. "And I will be with you ..." His voice broke, but he made himself say the words, the truth in his heart. "I will be with you always."

He was not frightened of what would come for him once he tumbled off the horse. He was not frightened at all, if it meant her reaching the keep.

So Lorcan kissed Elide's cheek again, allowed himself to breathe in her scent one last time. "I love you," he repeated, and began to withdraw his arms from around her waist.

Elide slapped a hand onto his forearm. Dug in her nails, right into his skin, fierce as any ruk.

"No."

There were no tears in her voice. Nothing but solid, unwavering steel.

"No," she said again. The voice of the Lady of Perranth.

Lorcan tried to move his arm, but her grip would not be dislodged.

If he tumbled off the horse, she would go with him.

Together. They would either outrun this or die together.

"Elide-"

But Elide slammed her heels into the horse's sides.

Slammed her heels into the dark flank and screamed, "FLY, FARASHA." She cracked the reins. "FLY, FLY, FLY!"

And gods help her, that horse did.

As if the god that had crafted her filled the mare's lungs with his own breath, Farasha gave a surge of speed.

Faster than the wind. Faster than death.

Farasha cleared the first of the fleeing Darghan cavalry. Passed desperate horses and riders at an all-out gallop for the gates.

Her mighty heart did not falter, even when Lorcan knew it was raging to the point of bursting.

Less than a mile stood between them and the keep.

But a thunderous, groaning crack cleaved the world, echoing off the lake, the mountains.

There was nothing he could do, nothing that brave, unfaltering horse could do, as the dam ruptured.

Rowan made himself stand there, to watch the last moments of the Lady of Perranth and his former commander. It was all he could offer: witnessing their deaths, so he might tell the story to those he encountered. So they would not be forgotten.

The roaring of the oncoming wave became deafening, even from miles away.

Still Elide and Lorcan raced, Farasha passing horse after horse after horse.

Even up here, would they escape the wave's reach? Rowan dared to survey the battlements, to assess if he needed to get the others, needed to get Aelin, to higher ground.

But Aelin was not at his side.

She was not on the battlement at all.

Rowan's heart halted. Simply stopped beating as a ruddy-brown ruk dropped from the skies, spearing for the center of the plain.

Arcas, Borte's ruk. A golden-haired woman dangling from his talons.

Aelin. Aelin was—

Arcas neared the earth, talons splaying.

Aelin hit the ground, rolling, rolling, until she uncoiled to her feet.

Right in the path of that wave.

"Oh gods," Fenrys breathed, seeing her, too.

They all saw her.

The queen on the plain.

The endless wall of water surging for her.

The keep stones began shuddering. Rowan threw out a hand to brace himself, fear like nothing he had known ripping through him as Aelin lifted her arms above her head.

A pillar of fire shot up around her, lifting her hair with it.

The wave roared and roared for her, for the army behind her.

The shaking in the keep was not from the wave.

It was not from that wall of water at all.

Cracks formed in the earth, splintering across it. Spiderwebbing from Aelin.

"The hot springs," Chaol breathed. "The valley floor is full of veins into the earth itself."

Into the burning heart of the world.

The keep shook, more violently this time.

The pillar of fire sucked back into Aelin.

She held out a hand before her, her fist closed.

As if it would halt the wave in its tracks.

He knew then. Either as her mate or carranam, he knew.

"Three months," Rowan breathed.

The others stilled.

"Three months," he said again, his knees wobbling. "She's been making the descent into her power for three months."

Every day she had been with Maeve, bound in iron, she had gone deeper. And she had not tapped too far into that power since they'd freed her because she had kept making the plunge.

To gather up the full might of her magic.

Not for the Lock, not for Erawan.

But for Maeve's death blow.

A few weeks of descent had taken her powers to devastating levels. Three months of it

…

Holy gods. Holy rutting gods.

And when her fire hit the wall of water now towering over her, when they collided —

"GET DOWN!" Rowan bellowed, over the screaming waters. "GET DOWN NOW!"

His companions dropped to the stones, any within earshot doing the same.

Rowan plummeted into his power. Plummeted into it fast and hard, ripping out any remaining shred of magic.

Elide and Lorcan were still too far from the gates. Thousands of soldiers were still too far from the gates as the wave crested above them.

As Aelin opened her hand toward it.

Fire erupted.

Cobalt fire. The raging soul of a flame.

A tidal wave of it.

Taller than the raging waters, it blasted from her, flaring wide.

The wave slammed into it. And where water met a wall of fire, where a thousand years of confinement met three months of it, the world exploded.

Blistering steam, capable of melting flesh from bone, shot across the plain.

With a roar, Rowan threw all that remained of his magic toward the onslaught of steam, a wall of wind that shoved it toward the lake, the mountains.

Still the waters came, breaking against the flames that did not so much as yield an inch.

Maeve's death blow. Spent here, to save the army that might mean Terrasen's salvation. To spare the lives on the plain.

Rowan gritted his teeth, panting against his fraying power. A burnout lurked, deadly close.

The raging wave threw itself over and over and over into the wall of flame.

Rowan didn't see if Elide and Lorcan made it into the keep. If the other soldiers and riders on the plain stopped to gape.

Princess Hasar said, rising beside him, "That power is no blessing."

"Tell that to your soldiers," Fenrys snarled, standing, too.

"I did not mean it that way," Hasar snipped, and awe was indeed stark on her face.

Rowan leaned against the battlements, panting hard as he fought to keep the lethal steam from flowing toward the army. As he cooled and sent it whisking away.

Solid hands slid under his arms, and then Fenrys and Gavriel were there, propping him up between them.

A minute passed. Then another.

The wave began to lower. Still the fire burned.

Rowan's head pounded, his mouth going dry.

Time slipped from him. A coppery tang filled his mouth.

The wave lowered farther, raging waters quieting. Then roaring turned to lapping, rapids into eddies.

Until the wall of flame began to lower, too. Tracking the waters down and down and down. Letting them seep into the cracks of the earth.

Rowan's knees buckled, but he held on to his magic long enough for the steam to lessen.

For it, too, to be calmed.

It filled the plain, turning the world into drifting mist. Blocking the view of the queen in its center.

Then silence. Utter silence.

Fire flickered through the mist, blue turning to gold and red. A muted, throbbing glow.

Rowan spat blood onto the battlement stones, his breath like shards of glass in his throat.

The glowing flames shrank, steam rippling past. Until there was only a slim pillar of fire, veiled in the mist-shrouded plain.

Not a pillar of fire.

But Aelin.

Glowing white-hot. As if she had given herself so wholly to the flame that she had become fire herself.

The Fire-Bringer someone whispered down the battlements.

The mist rippled and billowed, casting her into nothing but a glowing effigy.

The silence turned reverent.

A gentle wind from the north swept down. The veil of mist pulled back, and there she was.

She glowed from within. Glowed golden, tendrils of her hair floating on a phantom wind.

"Mala's Heir," Yrene breathed.

Down on the plain, Elide and Lorcan had halted.

The wind pushed away more of the drifting mist, clearing the land beyond Aelin.

And where that mighty, lethal wave had loomed, where death had charged toward them, nothing remained at all.

For three months, she had sung to the darkness and the flame, and they had sung back.

For three months, she had burrowed so deep inside her power that she had plundered undiscovered depths. While Maeve and Cairn had worked on her, she had delved. Never letting them know what she mined, what she gathered to her, day by day by day.

A death blow. One to wipe a dark queen from the earth forever.

She'd kept that power coiled in herself even after she'd been freed from the irons. Had struggled to keep it down these weeks, the strain enormous. Some days, it had been easier to barely speak. Some days, swaggering arrogance had been her key to ignoring it.

Yet when she had seen that wave, when she had seen Elide and Lorcan choosing death together, when she had seen the army that might save Terrasen, she'd known. She'd felt the fire sleeping under this city, and knew they had come here for a reason.

She had come here for this reason.

A river still flowed from the dam, harmless and small, wending toward the lake.

Nothing more.

Aelin lifted a glowing hand before her as blessed, cooling emptiness filled her at last.

Slowly, starting from her fingertips, the glow faded.

As if she were forged anew, forged back into her body.

Back into Aelin.

Clarity, sharp and crystal clear, filled its wake. As if she could see again, breathe again.

Inch by inch, the golden glow faded into skin and bone. Into a woman once more.

Already, a white-tailed hawk launched skyward.

But as the last of the glow faded, disappearing out through her toes, Aelin fell to her knees.

Fell to her knees in the utter silence of the world, and curled onto her side.

She had the vague sense of strong, familiar arms scooping her up. Of being carried onto a broad feathery back, still in those arms.

Of soaring through the skies, the last of the mist rippling away into the afternoon sun.

And then sweet darkness.

[vivi-the-sky-kid]

Psst

Ya wanna know my technique for getting around 17.5 candles a day without going Everywhere?

Geyser -> Brook Candle Cake and Light Farm -> Grandma -> Sunset Turtle

Then just do:

Whatever realm has the treasure candles for the day

Basic Vault (focus on the candle cakes)

Village of Dreams and Hermit Valley cakes

And then maybe the bouquets from Performance, the cake in Wind Paths, and then the cake in Starlight Desert (since the path to it is right next to the one in Wind Paths)

Super fast and doesn't take too much effort aside from getting to the timed events on time and dealing with Vault

[alieliscious]

Fallen angel Carmilla AU(??) anyone???

Idk if I should call this an AU but I wouldn't know what else to call it, I do think Carmilla is a fallen angel but since I suck at stringing coherent sentences together an explanation is another lifetime away

Carmilla, like other dominions, had one single job- To construct and decorate the black abyss with stars and planets and other celestial bodies. She was good at it too(the constellation Cygnus is her handwork lol).

Being God's second-in-command won't save you from being shredded, dominions were known for being some of the best gossipers around. But after accidentally running into eachother in one of Heaven's observatories and having a quick chat, Carmilla decides that there's one seraph she can stand.

So they opt to hanging around eachother more, and bing bada boom Sera finds this dominion very endearing

Cute starlit dates ensue, Carmilla blows up a star for Sera and the latter has a group of Carmilla-lead dominions following her like sheep to a sheperd for a week straight.

Now with Carmilla's daughters idk if she were to have them with another heavenborn or a hellborn, but I do think she jumped in after them(if they did get cast first)

[former-leftist-jew]

Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

[tetraandtheapples]

stares at you and fluttering my eyelashes

i like your silly words a lot they're very yummy and delicious

Oughghrgrg first askkkk....... Oughgghhhhhghrg RAGHRR

Thank you so much..... Just generally but I actually got a lot of surprise support from many people (3 of them! Woaw!) from my Swapdream ramblings..... Swapdream makes me TWEAK RAGHGHG

I want to reply to all of them but it's been wayy too long since I've used Tumblr..... I want to harass people about Swapdream because they reblogged my reblog but I don't think that's good Tumblr etiquette LOL. But I also don't want to leave them on "read"!!! But I also also don't want to reblog their reblogs because the post was kinda long and I don't want to clog up my own blog GELP. Maybe I should just make a post with their posts as screenshots, tag them and leave my responses there LMAO. Structured......

GOughg sorry I'm very quickly coming to the realisation I am a huge huge huge yapper when there's no character limit HEHAHA. Again TSYM HEHAHAHA bats my fluttering eyelashes back at you...... twinkle twinkly!

EDIT: I just realised. This ask probably wasn't about the Swapdream ramble but instead about the "Killer megalovania" thing. I'm just very Swapdream brainrotted cries SORRY (I still very much appreciate your support!!!! I'm just not used to the fame.... heh.... twirls hair)

[thereturningdemise]

Listen I need to get this out I know it's random as fuck but you don't understand just how infuriating books can be

Major spoilers for Redwall: Outcast not that you should care in my opinion if you do you could still read and enjoy it because I am only discussing the halfway point of the book and the ending

I would suggest for maximum yapping effect to refrain from skimming and to indulge my every enraged screech with your fullest and utmost attention

Now without further ado... The most aggravating book I have ever read in my life.

Redwall is a series I love. I had read a lot of the books and, finally, I was going to read one I had been looking forward to- Outcast. There's a ferret on the cover. That's right. A ferret main character, a race previously considered as "vermin" in the other books. The back alluded to their struggle for fitting into Redwall given the prejudice against their kind and I was so excited to dig my teeth into a cute and whimsical story about my favorite animal

But guess what

In a book in which the cover is a ferret and the back description is about the ferret... Do you want to know... What the book was actually about?

Because it wasn't about the ferret. No. Not until almost to the end of the book and they are a horribly treated side character that gets so astronomically butchered by the story I closed the book in disgust at the end.

The book should have been called Sunflash the Mace because that is actually the main character and he is not an outcast at all. He is more akin to a paladin of sorts. He is a great character and his companion is awesome I have no issues with him it is not his fault for the book being so grossly mishandled

You encounter the story of the ferret halfway through the book. He is the rejected son of an evil tyrant ferret that gets raised in a shitty environment only to eventually be saved and brought to the abbey.

So, what happens?

He is abused and ostracized by his peers for being a ferret and then lashing out for being bullied. Yes he steals things but rather than just saying the ferret is a bad egg why not punish the bullies for once and help the poor ferret learn to be a bit better? The only supportive figure he had was his adoptive mom and you can see him getting worse and worse because of the lack of any sort of help

Then, eventually he runs away to join his dad. His dad, the evil tyrant. He fights for him against Redwall, and this is where things get infuriating.

His mother is almost killed. His adoptive mother. He steps in front of her and sacrificed himself to save her.

At the end of the book two characters discuss this. "I'm sorry, I guess he really wasnt evil from the start..." Another person says.

Then the most evil, sick bit of writing I have ever seen graces the last specks of the page. A phrase that rocked me to my core for all the ferret had been through and what he had done at the very end.

"no, he was. I was wrong."

From the mouth of his own adoptive mother.

Now. You may be wondering- surely, SURELY there's more to this? Maybe in the books ferrets are just evil!

EXCEPT IN ONE OF THE PREVIOUS BOOKS A RAT BECAME A TOY MAKER THAT GIVES BOATS TO KIDS, A PREVIOUSLY COMPLETELY EVIL RACE AND NEED I REMIND YOU THAT THE BOOK WAS SET UP ON THE COVER AND BACK AS IF IT WAS GOING TO BE ABOUT THE FERRET FIGHTING FOR HIS RIGHT TO BE LOVED? I BELIEVE IT WAS MARIEL AND THAT BOOK WAS INCREDIBLE AND THE BEST IN THE FUCKING SERIES

That's all I wanted to say

I wish with all of my fucking heart the book was renamed to Sunflash the Mace I would have been so much less angry. I wish it had focused completely on his ending, rather than randomly having the poor ferret bastardized by his mother in the end

Read Mistmantle instead, guys

[daz4i]

sometimes i fear i am filled with too much rage but then i go online and see. people so dedicated to their anger it is practically their entire existence. are you not tired? do you not feel consumed by it? it's okay to let go. your passion can still be expressed through other feelings as well. flames of emotion do not always have to burn you to ashes. please rest a bit and let them just pleasantly warm you

[mothmans-hubby]

The world will know my rage. They will see my face on the screen of death and scream my name as they perish. Gore will cover every conceivable surface. I will not let them bury me. If they try, I will dig myself up and dance to their sounds of terror as they see my dirt-covered body. My feet will stomp on the soil they tried to kill me with for the soil and I are one. They cannot destroy for I am everlasting and everloving. Fuck you.

[that-was-anticlimactic]

*sprays fandoms with a spray bottle* height is NOT a personality trait!!!