#in a growth way and a grief way

[trans-yllz]

I think sometimes the utter tragedy of wei wuxians death is sort of drowned out by the fact that he gets resurrected. even before finishing the show and learning that he finds happiness again, you go into his death scene already knowing that he comes back. which is part of the genius of the story of course but also when you take the entire nevernight sequence and think about it within a reality in which wei wuxian is never resurrected, it presents a new and raw sort of heartbreak

[yashley]

It’s easier with people around you. To make you feel more like you.

[dollypopup]

This fandom gets more bent out of shape and upset about that entrapment line than Penelope herself does

one day peeps who get soooo mad at Colin for very easily understandable statements will finally just admit that they don't like him instead of twisting into pretzels to justify why they're so angry at him. y'all don't like him, but Penelope does. she loves him and tries to understand him, she was upset that she hurt him and she extended empathy to him in light of such, which is why her only response to it is 'I didn't mean to trap you, Colin, I love you', and YOUR response is to write fic after fic foaming at the mouth blowing a singular statement out of proportion and using a meangirl Fanon Penelope as a mouthpiece for your own bitterness

Penelope Bridgerton loves Colin. And knows she's hurt him and wants to heal that hurt. She wouldn't vibe with a fanbase who demonizes him the way we have

[stagefoureddiediaz]

Have we thought about the idea that maybe Eddie sends Chris away rather than Chris wanting to leave??

Eddie feeling like he keeps messing everything up - messing up his son’s life - that he’s destroyed his soul - and so thinks sending Chris away is what’s best for Chris??

[silver-dragonborn]

Imagine this: After the Driftmark Incident, Corlys takes Luke and Rhaena on a sea voyage to learn what it means to be true Velaryons of sea and salt. Laenor also tags along instead of following through with the plan to fake his death because he wants to keep a protective eye on his son and his sister's daughter, Rhaena. Cue a family sea trip where Laenor healthily processes his grief, Coryls learns to understand his son better, Luke builds a name for himself by taking up swashbuckling, and Rhaena becomes a rogue seafaring Targaryen.

[unicorntgoughts]

Allow the small shifts to add up.

[tenwhiteandalusians]

is episode 8 the domitian arc ? more on this and EVEN MORE narratives i’ve been ignoring that the show said “actually,,,” about in 5

[acourtofquestions]

Sam leaned against her, resting his head on her shoulder. "When we die, do you think we'll be punished for the things we've done?"

She looked at the far bank of the river, where a row of ramshackle houses and docks had been built. "When we die," she said, "I don't think the gods will even know what to do with us."

Sam glanced at her, a hint of amusement shining in his eyes.

Celaena smiled at him, and the world, for one flickering heartbeat, felt right.

"For whatever it's worth, I don't think you would destroy the world from spite." His voice turned hard. "But I also think you like to suffer. You collect scars because you want proof that you are paying for whatever sins you've committed. And I know this because I've been doing the same damn thing for two hundred years. Tell me, do you think you will go to some blessed Afterworld, or do you expect a burning hell? You're hoping for hell--because how could you face them in the After-world? Better to suffer, to be damned for eternity and--"

"That's enough," she whispered. She must have sounded as miserable and small as she felt, because he turned back to the worktable.

She shut her eyes, but her heart was thundering.

She didn't know how much time passed. After a while, the mattress shifted and groaned, and a warm body pressed against hers. Not holding her, just lying beside her. She didn't open her eyes, but she breathed in the smell of him, the pine and snow, and her pain settled a bit.

"At least if you're going to hell," he said, the vibrations in his chest rumbling against her, "then we'll be there together."

"I feel bad for the dark god already." He brushed a large hand down her hair, and she almost purred. She hadn't realized just how much she missed being touched--by anyone, friend or lover.

'I miss you,' she said. 'Every day, I miss you. And I wonder what you would have made of all this. Made of me. I think - I think you would have been a wonderful king. I think they would have liked you more than me, actually. Her throat tightened. 'I never told you - how I felt. But I loved you, and I think a part of me might always love you. Maybe you were my mate, and I never knew it. Maybe I'll spend the rest of my life wondering about that. Maybe I'll see you again in the Afterworld, and then I'll know for sure. But until then ... until then I'll miss you, and I'll wish you were here.

“We do not look back, Chaol. It helps no one and nothing to look back. We can only go on.”

There she was, that queen looking out at him, a hint of the ruler she was becoming. And it knocked the breath out of him, because it made him feel so strangely young—when she now seemed so old. “What if we go on,” he said, “only to more pain and despair? What if we go on, only to find a horrible end waiting for us?”

Aelin looked northward, as if she could see all the way to Terrasen. “Then it is not the end.”

"Aelin, you deserve better than this- than me."

"Don't tell me what I do and don't deserve. Don't tell me about tomorrow, or the future, or any of it." He took her hand, her fingers were cold-shaking slightly.

What do you want me to tell you, Fireheart?

"Tell me that we'll get through tomorrow. Tell me that we'll survive the war. Tell me-" She swallowed hard.

"Tell me that even if I lead us all to ruin, we'll burn in hell together."

"We're not going to hell, Aelin. But wherever we go, we'll go together.

[lizmitches]

3 years. 1095 days. We don’t measure grief in time but maybe we should. 1577880 minutes. Where time seems to slip and crawl lingering on what ifs before speed running backwards to the worst moment of your life when the night opens the door to sorrow as you sleep. Lisa’s heart has beaten 94 million times since Becky’s stopped. And yet if you had asked her it hadn’t beat at all.

Not until Carla. A small flicker of a beat, so out of the new normal that Lisa can dismiss it as an anomaly. Then it happens again. And it becomes harder to ignore. Suddenly she starts feeling the beats. And time is beginning to become meaningful. The grief doesn’t dissipate, but the time feels easier to hold - a trickle of steadiness.

But the car. The pain. The bruising. The accusations. Set the incident clock back to zero. The grief becomes torrential. And all Carla can do is watch. Because we don’t measure grief in time, and Carla knows this too well, because she can tell you how long it’s been since Liam. And knows that time and grief are only ever soothed by support & love. But only once you accept it, Lisa just isn’t quite there yet.

[the--days]

so it's like this.

you're young and you're scared and you're trapped in the feywild (happens to the best of us) with the love of your life. You're a half-elf and she's a fullblooded elf but you don't think about it very much because you're barely surviving day to day. And you get offered a deal to get yourself home again, and you take it. And the price of your freedom is that you leave her still trapped there, alone.

And then five years pass. And you age a century in that time, and you grow, and you change, and you find her again, and you're still in love, and you meet people, and you lose people, and you love them too, and you learn, and you start wanting a future again, and caring again, taking care of yourself, taking care of other people--

and after all of that, at the end of things, you find out the man responsible for all of the misery in your short, sad life has cast a spell which gives him complete control and ownership of you- mind, body, and soul (again. this happens to the best of us). And you are given the choice to stay under his thrall, and live a thousand years-- or to age and die, like humans do, and to be free of him.

And the love of your life is there, and you're married now, and she's still a full blooded elf, and you're still a half-elf, and you think about what that means a lot more than you used to.

And still, after everything you've learned-- you choose your freedom. You choose leaving her behind.

[mcdonaldsnumberone]

when ur in a “cannibalism as a metaphor for love” competition, and ur opponent is a mahoyakkie

[starstaiined]

thinking about the unforgiving nature of the passage of time

[dramarants]

I've said this before but as much as I was screaming at my screen, this is an opportunity for ttj to raise roots somewhere that not only includes the love of his life but also relationships without ridonkulous power imbalances among a supportive community and a new way of life outside the expectations set upon him since birth. who knows, maybe he'll choose to embrace his devil god fate lord knows the tension would not only be palpable but sexy af or maybe he'll become the supreme ultimate botanical sword master but he finally gets to be an active agent of his own life, choosing people, values, and goals for his own future, and hopefully, his journey (and lss's own growth returning + learning her identity) will reunite them knowing they're stronger, happier, and simply uplift each other when together. ttj's enduring love surmounted death and five centuries of agony to bring him to her place in the immortal realm, now it's up to them to figure themselves out and truly make it their home.

[sapphic-woes]

Might rant Abt this so bear with me but what Uthred and alfred had but lesbian

[septembersghost]

nothing crazier than realizing I was born the exact year supernatural released so like, this show (which i regrettably still haven't finished) has litertally spanned my entire life up until adulthood.

this is too much for me to process time is the worst and is not real i am turning to mummy dust writing this reply, goodbye farewell---lmao 😭👵🏻💀😵

you are still so very young anon, please take care of yourself and know that i'm sending you all the hopes and wishes i can for wherever life takes you ❤

(also you don't ever have to finish supernatural, in all honesty it's not worth it!)

[thevoidscreamer]

Personal musings July 2024

"re: recovering from religious trauma, poverty, and other shit

F E R A L

I was so used to scrounging for things like food, shelter, warmth, and love, and then one day, I found all of it in one place, offered freely. And I realized I had been fucking feral for so long that I had no idea how to live in a house with people, and be a person, be in love, be cared for, and care for others in a healthy way. I'm not talking about eating with utensils and using a napkin; I'm talking about I was literally mean and also severely unaware of social shit thanks to how I grew up. I had no idea how to receive affection and kindness -- like a feral cat, when you go to pet it, I would emotionally scratch and bite people at any sign of movement or weakness or gentleness. I was like 80% teeth and claws and hisses and growls, and then, on my own terms only, I was purring and slow blinking and willing to be touched. Over the years, I learned how to receive closeness, participate in gentleness, and not expect backlash after kindness. I can let my guard down, most days without effort, and I don't have to consciously soften myself. I can usually just... be with calm kindness. But I still sometimes have days where I'm just... feral. It's happening right now, and I'm doing my best to curtail it, but sometimes, it feels like I'm just watching myself be cruel and push people away for no real reason. I know it's related to my anxiety, my fear of abandonment, and the deep, entrenched, life-informed knowledge that, ultimately, it all really is too good to be true and everything will suddenly fall out from under me at any moment. My partner is being deployed. My kid is going home at the end of summer. My co-workers are leaving because their spouses are deploying, too. The anxiety is high, and I'm struggling not to just torpedo my entire life ahead of time to avoid the pain of loneliness that is not on my own terms. I find myself, minute by minute, trying to remember to resheath my claws, pacing (literally) my house, leaving every chance I get, and staying out extra long."

Some days this still crops up, but it's less now. I wish I could have been better in the past, but I was doing the best I could at the time with what I had.

New adventures are starting for me, once again, and I know that I'll only keep improving.

I have friends now. That's so wild to say. I have friends. Multiple. Actual. Practical, not theoretical. Beyond my partners, my kid, my brother, my childhood bestie.

I leave the house now. I am an active participant in life. I create. I breathe. I move. I love.

I live.

There is still a wilderness inside me. I unleash it where it should be unleashed. I will never be purely domesticated, nor should I desire it. Anyone who truly wishes to know me, to love me, will understand, appreciate, respect, honor my wildness. Not shame me for it.