#like at least I am honest about how the faith I was raised at is seen as 'peaceful' and 'progressive' is because it was always persecuted

[envolvenuances]

maybe it's dating a former Jehovah's witness but I have a particular rage for christians who act like their faith is neither patriarchal nor missionary. catholicism can only pass as "harmless" today because it had to be striped of power by many different fights

[crimeronan]

kitkat this is mean but i do at this point assume that anyone who gets mad about the aphobia episode of housemd, which is late in s8, is simply and straightforwardly racist, homophobic, intersexist, etc. like if that is the one (1) bad thing you think is worth talking about - a single, one-off episode that was admittedly terrible but nothing like the constant and unrelenting greatest bigotry hit parade that is the show as a whole - i simply don't think that is an opinion i will be listening to. THERE'S BIGGER PROBLEMS!!!!

my perspective on this is, i think, both a little kinder AND a lot meaner than yours -- i 100% think that the Vast Majority of people who never shut up about the asexuality episode have simply..... never watched house MD. like, i really think that's it. they just have not seen the show. the only thing they KNOW about the show is the asexuality episode.

in fact, i'd say that 80% of people who derail my ableism posts EXPLICITLY tag or comment some variation of, "i'd never watch this / i already knew the show was bad / this doesn't surprise me because of the asexuality episode."

so it's not like.... necessarily that they think asexuality is the Only Thing Anyone Can Ever Talk About. it's just that it's the only thing they ever HAVE seen anyone talk about. and they're parroting whatever they've heard.

without. knowing. anything. about. the show.

like. it's just that they legitimately, honest to God somehow think that the asexuality episode was DIFFERENT, and that asexuals were UNIQUELY maligned, because they Literally Have Not Watched The Source Material. and so they don't know how often it happened. to everyone. or how systemic it was. or how cruel the writers were on a constant basis.

i think that this is the truest read of all this discourse. at the very least, it's the only read that makes me Not Actively Homicidal, so it is the one i must cling to.

there are a LOT of viral posts about house MD that criticize the asexuality episode without criticizing anything else. and those DO make me raise my eyebrows, bc presumably the OPs have watched the whole show, and so i'm like. why do you seem to take issue with the asexuality stuff but Not any of the other stuff.

BUT. if i am being good faith and nice to people... i figure it's, like, Ffffine.... for asexual people to make their own posts about house MD. since i am making my own posts about ableism in house MD. talking about one thing is fine. even if it makes me raise my eyebrows. bc as you said, it's one ep late in season 8 that sucks but. is not, uh. it's not the core of the show.

it DOES vex me that discussion of the treatment of asexuality gets SOOOO MUCH MORE VIRAL TRACTION HERE than any discussion of ableism, but it doesn't surprise me, exactly... about 50ish percent of this website is ace (last i knew?), and a MUCH smaller percentage is chronically ill. and on top of that, sooo many chronically ill ppl exist in a weird space with criticism of house MD in the first place, because he's the Pain Blorbo who's a Sick Doctor, he's like the only ornery bitchy chronic illness representation a lot of people have experienced, and that often Means Things to ppl with chronic illness. and so sometimes they feel Weird And Uncomfortable acknowledging that the show is also, um. really really reaaaalllyyyyy mean and cruel.

and just generally. not great. to us.

so. the posts about ableism..... don't circulate. at least not outside of very specific chronic illness circles. bc you have to be Nuanced about the chronic illness stuff, there's a lot of Uncomfortable Feelings involved, and the asexuality stuff is MUCH more straightforwardly terrible ragebait, which is very easy to get mad about & reblog with tags about how you are mad.

With All Of That Said.

i DO think that if people read a post that's being critical of how house MD hurts disabled/chronically ill people, or they read a post about any of the other many many many Many evil bigoted episodes in the series, and their ONLY takeaway is to type, "well, i knew it was bad because i heard about the asexuality thing!"

....i DO think that is thoughtless and cruel. and i do think that people should stop doing that.

and i have locked numerous posts because of people doing that.

and if people start doing that in my notes again, i will be instablocking and possibly locking more posts. because. please.

you do NOT have to say, "i already knew it was bad because X," or, "did you know it was also bad about X??" when the post is not about X. i was not talking about X. i agree that X is bad, but i would like to talk about Y right now, and this kind of smug kneejerk "i consume media the right way <3 i know that it's bad when it's bad" response makes it.... impossible.

like. i am being Earnest As Fuck about ableism and my own life experiences and the horrific structural inequality/oppression/violence/etc in the medical system. it's written about a TV show, but it's not Actually About A TV Show. you know?? my thoughts about house MD are my thoughts about The Actual Real Life Medical System and Actual Real Life Doctors. I'm Trying To Say Something Important .

now is NOT the time for, "oh, yeah, and the asexuality episode was bad!"

NOOOO..... FOCUS ON THE WORDS I JUST SAID INSTEAD. BLEASE,

[freezegirl]

welcome to tessa is gonna say a thing and if you need to unfollow and/or block, by all means, curate your space and protect your peace but if i don't speak on this, i know i'm gonna carry this around and i don't want to do that because i want to have fun on this website first and foremost so here it goes:

on one hand: it's a website and none of these characters are real. at the end of the day, it's not that deep. one day, this website will be out of the air and only accessible through the way-back-machine.

on the other hand: to each their own and far be it from me to tell people how to write their characters, but i can't deny that i've been seeing a couple of (mixed race) indian characters around with similar story beats i.e. they're not really as immersed in the culture / the faith / the heritage. which is fine, there are people irl who aren't, either, i'm sure.

but on the other other hand: the message you're inadvertendly sending with certain character / development choices is real.

to me, it feels like convenience. like we're not worth the research, the energy. to me, it feels like you want the face claim but not the story.

we're worth more than just a cursory glance because we are more than chicken tikka masala and bollywood movies and so we are worth more than the label "is disconnected from and doesn't engage with the culture / heritage / background" and calling it a day.

now i am not saying every indian character on this site needs to be written as pious and going to the temple every sunday and has to be into celebrating diwali, holi phagwa, pongal and/or puthandu.

but i am saying that i did not get bullied, mocked and ridiculed for every aspect of the culture i was born and raised in - i did not spend most, if not all, of my teenage years and even some of my young adulthood years hating myself for being indian and surinamese only to claw my way back to loving myself and being proud of being of indian and surinamese - for people on tumblr to take the easy way out when they write indian characters.

i say this because i am also of mixed race descent and while no one's experience is the same, i would very much like for the experiences - whatever they are - to be written respectfully, at least.

(especially if you switch out a white fc for a fc of color. that automatically adds another layer. a layer that i think ought to be explored.)

because those experiences very much do inform who you are as a person and the way you move through the world; it informs the way you see things and the way other people see you and i think it's a disservice - not just to your character but also to yourself as a writer - if those details are forgotten about.

for instance: when i was a kid, i went to the park and came across a lady with a dog. i was with a friend of mine (who is, coincidentally, white passing). i wanted to pet the dog (despite my allergies) and i distinctly remember that my friend was allowed to, and even encouraged to, but i wasn't. that was my first ever indication of "hey, some people see the color of your skin before they see you".

if you're gonna write an indian character, i beg you: write an indian character instead of a white person in a brown person suit. because that's what it feels like to me.

this is not meant to be a diss or a drag or a subtweet (sub-tumblr post?) or anything of the sort. all i am saying, openly and earnestly, is that i am missing the nuances here. i am missing the care and respect.

it's hurtful and, frankly, disrespectful because i'm out here worrying about whether or not i am accurately depicting my own culture / background while others don't even give a modicum of energy to making sure the story they're telling is one of respect.

it sucked when authors like m/ichelle h/odkin did that shit in 2011-2014 and when m/arissa m/eyer did that shit in 2020.

and, to be really honest, i didn't think i'd still be seeing it in 2024. that sucks, too.

ps: it goes without saying but this is not about any of my friends because i know who they are and i know the values they hold.

[strixcattus]

I'm supposed to be working on other things right now but I'm thinking about that question on the survey that asked about which ending you preferred/considered canon. And I'm about to say a lot of things that may or may not make sense or all be related to one another, and I'm not sure they'll come out in a parseable order, so I may or may not even end up putting this in the main tag. We'll have to see.

I chose the answer I consider best. Or, least bad. And not in a narrative sense—after the update, I like the scene of the "And? What Happens Next?" ending better than perhaps any other. But I chose the one that I believed led to the most favorable scenario after the end, which would be the loop ending. And I've got a post in my drafts, half-written, that explains in detail why I consider each ending to be a "bad ending" for the world or the characters or both in some form, which I had to put on a back-burner because I wanted to ensure I wasn't doing some sort of bad-faith reading on the Shifting Mound during my discussion of one ending, and even though with the benefit of distance I can see I generally wasn't I've never gotten back to it. To sum it all up, each ending requires you to trade away something the game's story makes you value (unless, I suppose, you come to hate the Princess and by extension the Shifting Mound, or the Shifting Mound and by extension the Princess, on a nonnegotiable level) in order to resolve the narrative, but the loop ending allows you to put it off ad infinitum. What you're sacrificing is the resolution itself. So you lose nothing, and gain nothing, and probably something really horrible happens to the world, but you don't have to think about that part.

But I consider the canon ending to be "There Are No Endings." Maybe it has something to do with it being the first ending I got. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I consider it the optimal outcome for the world—you sacrifice everyone who's unconditionally been on your side this entire time (Shifty doesn't quite count, since she wasn't present in the same way the Voices were) in order to maintain balance and surety. Maybe it just says something about what I value, and that unseen value says something about the endings.

Shifty's right. She doesn't get it right about what you, the player, feel and value (unless your values happen to align with hers—mine don't, but I know some people's must), but that's how people are. She says it—and normally I'd go sifting through the files or the game itself for when exactly she says it, but it's late and I have other things to do, so I'll just say she says it very early on—she says very early on that she cannot know your mind, because you are not her.

It's the same way as your final words to the Voices in the mirror. None of your options are poorly worded. If you expect the Voices to take the harsh truth gracefully, that's an honest mistake, because you can't know what's going on in their heads. Your options are to lie kindly, or tell them a truth that will make them hate you, because just as you can't see inside their heads, they cannot see inside yours, and they will assume you must have some other choice. You don't. But you don't get to articulate it. Lie or hurt them. Those are your only options.

But aside from that Shifty is right. I've seen people ask—and this was early in my entrance to the fandom, and I don't know how much discussion went around about it because I wasn't in the circle, so to speak, even less than I am right now, but I've seen people ask if Shifty could have killed us.

That's not the question to be asking. Of course she could have killed us. She can do anything we believe her to be able to, and if we believe her able to kill us, she can. She always could have killed us.

But she never would have, because she knows. She knows something as a god that you cannot know until you choose to raise yourself to her level—she knows that a universe without either one of you may not be a universe worth living in. She knows that she needs her counterweight. She may not value people on the same level you might, but she does not want them to suffer—she specifically wants them not to suffer, or at least not to suffer in a way she could have prevented. She is a detached god, not a cruel one.

She's right. She's forceful, but she's right, and she can't understand why you would rather be a person than a god, because she has never been anything but a god, and her Vessels are as much a part of her as your Voices are a part of you, but while you lived alongside your Voices as a person before cannibalizing them, she only welcomed her Vessels back upon their absorption. She does not know firsthand what it is to be a person, but she is right about everything else.

(I have to wonder if she is less cruel to her Vessels than you are to your Voices. Hers maintain their form throughout.)

And now this has me thinking—what if the Voices are you? Not in the way in which they're obviously you. I mean that you live your life, you make your decisions, and then you die. And then there is a new one of you. But the new one is not the Voice that has appeared in your head. The new Voice is the old one, fully realized into his own person with a personality you can no longer mold, just as the Vessels are not their own persons until you make the choices that make them into real people. The new entity is you, unmolded, without any personality save what you, the person who does not exist in this world, pour into it.

[vincentvangodot]

So I'm really bad at keeping up with devotionals, or anything that relies on me remembering it exists every day. Including medication whoops. But this year I really wanted to keep up with a devotional for Advent, and I found one called "Love Came Down: Anglican Readings for Advent and Christmas". It seemed decent enough, the title comes from a poem I love, I gave it a shot.

Friends, this book is truly terrible. It has been actively bad for my faith to have been reading it for the past couple weeks. It is, almost without exception, about how our lives are dust and Hell awaits us and we have no hope without the love of G-d. Which, OK. Even if that's what you want to focus on out of the entirety of Christ's message, why right now? Why when we're preparing for His Nativity? Why drown in despair instead of living in hope?

It's just genuinely dreadful. I've been having all sorts of doubts since I started trying to focus on the messages this book was trying to convey, and I'm really having to fight to focus on joy - the liturgical theme of this week - instead of resentment. I'm still kinda skimming the book, but I've found a better devotional and am trying to recover. It's just so INTENSELY Victorian to focus on the veil of death and how we are as worms. And it's not even like I don't have any appreciation for meditations on death and unworthiness, but this is Advent! Save that shit for Lent!

If nothing else, I guess, it's a reminder of what I want my Christianity to look like, which is way more community-focused and way less concerned with trying to beat the reaper or whatever. The Advent readings are focused on the second coming, which is important and interesting to think about, but there's such a difference between that and obsessing over what will happen to your body when you die. It'll be dust and it'll mingle with everyone else's dust and that's beautiful, but the people collected in this book seem to think I should be horrified. Just weird and bad.

[&; A large part of this is also something I've had a problem with for a long time, which is a sentiment best summed up in the Act of Contrition: "I detest all my sins, because I dread the loss of Heaven and the pains of Hell". I don't act based on hope of reward or fear of punishment. I do my best to act in accordance with what G-d, through the scriptures and revelation, has indicated They want from me, because I love G-d. They are not some looming master with a whip in hand, They are my Creator and I want to act in such a way as to pretend I could possibly justify the love They already have for me. It's a complicated way of thinking, but in my eyes it's more honest worship than just reacting to what I want or don't want. It isn't about me at all, in fact.]

Speaking of community, I really do want to start physically going to church more often (currently I mostly watch the livestream), but almost no one masks and I truly do not feel safe. I want to talk to the rector about at least encouraging masking again, knowing requiring it simply will not happen. I don't know how that'll go, but I have to at least raise the point. If we're trying to be a place of "radical welcome", we can care a little more about health, that's all.

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

ch. 5 — forbirnan (to burn)

summary: fess up bitches

warnings: graphic violence, angst, disgusting ass fluff

tagged: @levithestripper @demon-of-the-ancient-world

general masterlist | series masterlist

Athelstan

The shadow of Alethia made itself known as Athelstan wandered towards the encampment of the Northmen.

“Hello, Bjorn. Do you remember me?” Athelstan greeted. Bjorn had grown since they’d last seen each other. It stung to remember that Alethia was only a few years older than him, and yet, so much more tired.

“Of course I remember you.” Bjorn replied bluntly. So he was still the same, Athelstan thought with a smile. “I wanted to kill you when I was a child. And then I loved you.”

“I know you were close to your uncle.” Athelstan said, before raising his voice. “I want you all to know that Rollo is alive, wounded, but alive and being taken care of. King Horik.”

“Why have you come, Athelstan?” the Viking king asked him. “Did you escape?”

“I came here to talk to you.”

“King Ecbert sent you. You do his bidding. You are one of them.” Horik observed. Alethia would have made a snarky remark here, Athelstan thought. He shook the thought. He had to think of something other than her. His job, his mission.

“He offers you a chance for peace. He wants to talk of many things with you. Good things.” Athelstan promised.

“Yes, and then kill us.” Horik snorted.

“No. He will not, I swear. I know him.”

“You are his dog. You lick his fingers. You lick his asshole.” Horik insulted. Athelstan bit his tongue, like always. When would the blood run down his chin?

“I really like your new clothes, Athelstan, and your hair. Very nice.” Floki teased, looking Athelstan up and down.

“Is he prepared to offer us a hostage?” Horik continued.

“Yes. He wants to reassure you, in any way he can, of his honest intentions.” Athelstan explained.

“Then we will meet him.” Ragnar said suddenly, and Athelstan breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of his friend.

“Who are you to say?” Horik interrupted.

“You do not need to come. Ragnar and I will go, and if Ecbert means to kill us, so be it.” Athelstan sighed.

“I will give him your answer.” Ragnar told King Horik, before he crossed the distance and turned to Athelstan. “I will accompany you. Part of the way.”

As soon as they were out of earshot, Ragnar smiled at Athelstan more easily. “It is good to see you. I feared that you were dead.”

“There were times that I wish I had been.” Athelstan confessed. “I gave into despair.”

“So have you returned to your faith, renounced ours?” Ragnar asked curiously. The pressure that always seemed to emanate from the man returned with a sudden intensity that Athelstan almost cringed away from it.

“I wish it was so simple.” Athelstan said, remembering everything that Alethia had told him about her beliefs, and how complicated they were. At least he was not alone in his struggles. “In the gentle fall of rain from heaven, I hear my God, but in the thunder, I still hear Thor. That is my agony.”

“I hope that someday our Gods can become friends.” Ragnar replied, as if it was that simple. “I have something to return to you. You are safe to go now, but I will see you very soon.”

Athelstan took the armring from Ragnar with a relieved smile. Finally, it was his again. “Thank you, friend.”

When Athelstan returned to the villa, the first thing he did was to search for Alethia. He needed her reassurance, to hear her thoughts on the matter. In a way, it was so that he would not be so alone with his own.

And yet, he barely had any time to rest before he was sent away from her again, to lay out the terms of King Ecbert in front of Ragnar.

He translated as dutifully as he could, trying to hide his straying mind. It escaped everyone taking part in the negotiations. Everyone but Ragnar of course, who watched Athelstan with narrowed eyes. At the end of it, Ragnar stayed behind, waiting until he and Athelstan were alone.

“I am taking my brother home.” Ragnar began carefully. “Will you come back with us or will you stay here with your people?”

Athelstan thought for a moment.

“I want you to come back.” Ragnar blurted out.

What of Alethia? Would she come North with him?

“There is one thing I must resolve.” Athelstan told him. Ragnar grinned, clapping Athelstan’s back.

“Of course, Athelstan. We shall all be happy to have you back.”

Athelstan wasn’t so sure about that.

Still, the excitement grew in his stomach as he marched for the library, where he knew he would find Alethia.

And indeed, Alethia sat at one of the small tables, quietly studying the tongue of the Northmen.

“I am leaving for Kattegat.” Athelstan announced. He was glad that Alethia could come. She would prefer Kattegat, the Northern way of life. He knew her pride was wounded by those men that still looked down on her. In Kattegat, things would be different. “Will you come?”

“North?” Alethia asked, and Athelstan nodded. She nodded, a smile spreading across her face. 

“Yes, I’d like that, I think. I want to meet all of your friends, most of all Lagertha.” Alethia replied. “And who would bother you about vocabulary without me?”

“Pack your things.” Athelstan said. “The Northmen leave soon.”

“Do they know of me?”

“No, but they will accept you.” Athelstan assured. “Ragnar will like you, and so will Lagertha and Bjorn, no doubt.”

Alethia’s hands wrung together, and she looked to the piece of parchment she’d scribbled full.

“Hey.” Athelstan said quietly. He stepped closer when she did not respond, taking her hands. Her fingertips were stained blue, fingers cold from writing for so long. Her pinkie was still bandaged from where it had been broken in the battle. “They’ll like you, alright. Your Norse is good.”

“Not as good as yours.”

“Not everyone can be as perfect as me.” Athelstan joked. Alethia snorted, but her hands still wrapped around his, holding them gently.

“Thank you.” she whispered. “For not leaving me behind.”

“I would never do that.” Athelstan replied earnestly. 

“You go ahead, I’ll find my things.” Alethia said, a smile tugging at her lips. Her cheeks were slightly red with excitement, and a glint of happiness had returned to her eyes. There were few things Athelstan was more proud of. 

Alethia made for the door, when, Athelstan wasn’t even sure why, he caught her hand. She paused, turning around to him with wide eyes. Those eyes, green as the forests of his childhood home, they were going to be the death of him.

And suddenly, Athelstan understood.

“God.” he whispered. “Lord, how have I been so blind?”

Alethia’s eyes narrowed in confusion, flickering from his face to his hands, still holding hers, back to his face again. Then, she seemed to understand.

Athelstan waited for her rejection. Instead, her hands grasped his again. 

“I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t-” Athelstan began. However many scrolls he had read, they were not enough. The words escaped him, his throat too tight to speak.

“Me neither. I don’t… Athelstan .”

The world did not move, nothing at all breathed. Nothing was alive but them, and Athelstan felt as if the Earth beneath him could fall away at any moment. He wished he could move. He wished he could-  He wished he knew. 

What…

Alethia’s chest rose with her breaths, eyes unwavering, lips slightly parted as she released a huff of air shakily. One of her hands left Athelstan’s, slowly travelling up. She paused, her fingers almost touching his face.

Athelstan could not stop her. Vows be damned, any God at all be damned, he could not stop her. He did not want to. He wanted to, God, why didn’t he know?

“Is this alright?” Alethia whispered, her hand cupping his face gently, thumb stroking his cheekbone. The places she touched him burned .

This was right. It had to be. If not this, then what?

Athelstan nodded. He did not know what else to do, frozen in place.

Alethia leaned forward, and kissed him gently. And suddenly, he understood. He understood why there had been wars waged for women, he understood why his heart ached and his hands shook each time he came too close to Alethia. Why he could get lost in her eyes, and why he felt safe when he was with her. Why he was not alone when they were together.

It was a short kiss, gentle and shallow, and Alethia’s lips left his before he could even blink.

It was everything. He wanted more.

And then, Athelstan could move again. His hands reached up to mirror Alethia’s, one along her cheek, the other on her neck. He could feel her pulse under his palm, beating wildly. There was no need to know, to even think.

Kissing her was instinct. Her lips were on his again, and Athelstan moved without having to think, pulling Alethia closer to him, until her body was flush against his, and her warmth was his to share.

Athelstan wanted to hold her like she was gentle, and so, he did, touches featherlight. He was patient, he could take his time with her, love her as she deserved. As he did. 

Their kiss deepened slowly, sweet like honey. He could feel Alethia smile against his lips, and Athelstan could not help but mirror her. She gave him another quick kiss, before her forehead touched his, and Alethia laughed softly.

By God, the sound of it. He loved it. He loved her .

They stood like that for a long time, neither saying a thing, before the churchbells outside pulled them out of the moment, and Alethia gave him another kiss, as if it was habit and not catastrophically, perfectly new.

“Go ahead, Athelstan.” she whispered. “I’ll follow you.”

“Goodbye.” Athelstan replied. “Until tonight.”

“Tonight.” Alethia promised. “Athelstan?”

“Yes, Alethia?”

“Do you feel guilty?” she asked carefully.

“No, I don’t.” Athelstan replied. The question was the easiest of his life.

“Good.” Alethia sighed. And then again, “Good. I could not bear it. I… I did not realize until just now but…”

“Yes. Me too.” Athelstan assured. He took her hand as they always did, lips brushing over her knuckles. “Go.”

Alethia nodded, making for the door, before she turned back the second time that day, almost running towards him. She half-crashed into Athelstan, kissing him thrice and laughing all the while.

She was happy.

Athelstan felt warm, joy filling him with a suddenness that almost overwhelmed him.

Alethia

Her hands shook as she packed her few meagre belongings. Dresses, tunics, breeches, shifts, they were all pushed into a pack, her fingers almost too unsteady to tie it. She was giddy with excitement, still not sure if what had just happened was even real.

It couldn’t be, right? She hoped it was. That her mind was not just playing tricks on her in her grief.

Alethia thought of Jon, who she had loved so much. So dearly. Whose child she had carried. He was a whisper at the back of her mind, one that only filled her with pain to think of.

But Athelstan… Athelstan took up the whole night sky, shining light onto the darkest chasms of Alethia’s mind. He was warm, and kind, and gentle and he was there . For her.

A home within reach, a heart that beat the same as hers. And all the jealousy, all the fluttering anxiety for his approval that she had felt during their lessons, as soon as Kwentrith had arrived - Alethia knew now that it was neither jealousy nor need for approval. It was falling in love.

Though, she could not call it falling, for Athelstan was too gentle for that. Gentle.

Alethia smiled, her lips widening before she could stop it. How she had longed for that. To be treated as if she was precious. Athelstan knew. He knew, didn’t he?

Her sword was already around her waist when Alethia pushed the door of her chamber open, not caring to take one last look at the room. She didn’t have to.

The sun was beginning to sink outside, finally, and how beautiful it was - crimsons and oranges lighting the sky on fire, soft purples and blues beginning to draw in on the horizon. It was a warm night in the beginning of summer, and the air smelled like hope. 

Alethia stepped towards the gates of the villa, nodding at the guards, when suddenly, a voice made her turn.

“Alethia!”

It was King Ecbert. She faced the king, whose hands were spread out in front of him. His usual smile was on his face, and Alethia shuddered.

“King Ecbert.”

“What are you doing?” Ecbert asked.

“Going for a walk.” Alethia lied quickly. She should have taken another way out, but Alethia had expected the Saxons to be drunk on their victory. Well, most of them were, apart from Ecbert, apparently.

“You wish to leave for Kattegat with Athelstan.” he said. Alethia stepped backwards, making for the gates. 

“And what of it?” She replied. Alethia turned, running for the gates. Behind her, Ecbert shouted. 

Alethia saw as the doors to freedom slowly swung closed, and she ran, ran as hard as she could, in hopes of just somehow making it through.

Her injured shoulder collided with the closed gates, and Alethia bit her tongue through the pain. She looked to Ecbert, who was smirking at her with that disgustingly smug smile. Alethia would not be stopped so easily.

She stepped towards the walls, upon which the guards waited, and began to climb. Her fingers burned, her palms began to bleed, and she looked up, only up. She had no other choice.

Below you is a bottomless pit. Will you fall, or will you climb?

The guards were waiting for her at the top, and Alethia drew her sword. They pushed her back, holding her over the railing until her upper half was almost suspended in the air.

Would she die if she fell?

Even if she did not, Alethia didn’t want to break her neck, to potentially render herself disabled. She stilled, waiting until the guards released the pressure. Only then did she wind herself from their grip.

Her sword was gone, but Alethia had a knife in her boot, and that was all she needed. With a few movements, the two that had caught her were dead. Alethia looked back into the yard of the villa, where Ecbert was still staring at her. He did not look surprised, and that made her feel sick.

That he was right about her. That Ecbert knew of the monster she was.

Athelstan did not.

Alethia would rather die than tell him, if she still could. She descended over the wall on the other side, and began to ran. She knew how fruitless it was, but she still told herself that she could do it.

Could make it.

As a ranger, she knew how to make sure that the hounds Ecbert would no doubt send after her would loose her scent.

She made for the river the washerwomen used, wading upstream, praying that her headstart was enough. Did she even know where to go?

South. Always south. That was where the vikings were. Where Athelstan was.

It was where Ecbert would send his men. They knew the land, and they’d catch her, no matter how many she killed. At some point, they would overwhelm her, and drag her back to the villa.

With a sinking feeling in her chest, Alehtia knew that she would not make it to Athelstan or the Northmen. They were leaving at nightfall, and King Ecbert’s men would be waiting up for her close to the camp.

The Northmen did not care for her enough to not turn her over - even if Athelstan put in a word for her.

Alethia wiped her tears and turned North.

North was Mercia. War.

And because there was war, it was a good hiding place. The irony of it all was not lost on Alethia. 

Alethia walked, watching as the sun set to her West. She bit her tears down, and kept going, distancing herself from King Ecbert’s villa as fast as she could. She walked into the night, into the dark, and kept going. 

The sound of wolves tore apart the forests of England, and Alethia shivered, both from the cold and the thought that Athelstan was gone. He was at sea now, with Ragnar and Lagertha and all the rest of the free people.

She was here, in a forest somewhere between Mercia and Wessex. Alethia walked until her knees began to give out and the thicket was too thorny to continue in the night. 

She made camp where she was, careful to use wood that would not produce a lot of smoke and prayed that the wolves would not tear her apart.

By marriage, Alethia was a Stark. Quarter, at least. The thought could not comfort her in this moment. When she was warm enough to survive the night, Alethia reduced the flame until it was barely enough to keep her warm. She did not sleep, to afraid that Prince Aethelwulf would ride up to her with a patrol and take her back to the villa.

Ecbert would not hesitate to chain her to a wall and starve her until she provided the answers he wanted. Alethia knew that, and it made her skin prickle with fear, with the feeling of being watched - no matter how irrational it was.

So, she stayed awake, and when the first signs of dawn began to show themselves early in the morning, she began walking again. It was summer, so Alethia knew that it could be well before five in the morning.

Her body ached with exhaustion, but her feet trudged through the forest, and she used her hands to guide her where her eyes could not.

When the sun rose, Alethia stumbled onto a small field. Stalks of wheat swayed softly in the grass, and the sun rose to her east. In the distance, she saw straw-thatched roofs. A village, perhaps of 120 people. They had a church, too, likely for the surrounding villages.

“What a metropolis.” Alethia mumbled to herself. 

She could keep going. She was less than a day’s horse ride from Ecbert’s villa. 

Alethia was hungry, exhausted and cold. No one knew her here. Word would not travel South, when that was where Ecbert had thought she was go. No one would look for her here.

Still, Alethia took the knife from her boot, lips pressing into a thin line as she cut her hair. She could not stop the tears that spilled.

Athelstan liked her hair. She knew that. It fell to the ground, blending together with the golden stalks of wheat. There, on the earth, it was barely discernible. She kept going, until her hair was cut to her shoulders and no longer reached down her back.

It would make her look less like she could afford to live in a villa like Ecbert’s. And then came the hard part. Alethia pulled up the leg of her breeches, making a cut. She hissed as the blood spilled from her shin, but she had to make it look believable.

Using her hands, Alethia smeared the blood over her forearms, staining her shirt. Then came her face. She pretended she was an artist, and not desperate. That she was painting her face with makeup, preparing to go out on a date somewhere in Berlin. Maybe a chinese place. She’d have xialongbao and complain they weren’t as good as they’d be in Shanghai, kiss a handsome stranger and forget all about the only two men she’d ever loved.

Alethia stood, hunching her shoulders. She hung her head in defeat, staring at the ground. When the rooster crowed thrice, she began to walk towards the village. By the time she made it to the small square in the middle of it, people were already awake, some getting water from the fountain, others exchanging goods. 

A young man with striking blue eyes noticed her first, automatically drawing his sword.

“Who are you?” he demanded

“Where am I?” Alethia said slowly, pretending she did not know.

“Wantage.” the man said hesitantly. He took in her appearance, slowly lowering his sword before he spoke again. “South of Mercia.”

“God is good.” Alethia sighed, lowering her eyes even more. She sunk to her knees, theatrically repeating her words, but the people of the village did not seem to notice. Instead, a young woman rushed to her side. She had wide doe-like eyes and gave Alethia a soft smile.

She was soft. 

Alethia loved her for it already.

“Are you alright?” the woman asked. Alethia nodded slowly, before shaking her head. 

“I am-” Alethia began, letting her voice wobble just enough. “Where is my husband? Have you seen my husband?”

“No.” the girl whispered. She gave Alethia a look of pity. “When did you last see him?”

“He was so bloody.” Alethia whispered. “I cannot-”

“What is your name?” the girl asked. “You have an accent. Are you a Northwoman?”

“No!” Alethia said, her tone becoming a bit sharper. She thought quickly. What was the name of the woman who had been forced to bear a child for Abraham instead of his wife? The woman who had been chained to her masters for nothing at all?

Hagar.

“I am from the North of Frankia. North of the Rhine. My name is Hagar.” Alethia lied.

“Alright, Hagar. How did you come to Wessex? Perhaps we know your husband? He seems like a well-traveled man.” the girl supplied, helping her up. Alethia was reminded of just how good some people were, no matter the time. She wished this girl had been born over a millenia later. It was what she deserved.

“His name was Athelstan.” Alethia continued, building on the lie. “God, his name was Athelstan. Where is he? Where is my husband? Please, I need-” she gasped for air, as if she had run for miles and miles on end. 

She had walked them.

“We do not know a man by that name here.” the man with the sword said. He could not be any older than Athelstan, and though they both had blue eyes, his bore into Alethia’s, when Athelstan had never been anything but soft.

“Who are you?” Alethia asked as she stood shakily. “Please, I do not have anywhere to go. Who are you good folk?”

“I am Eadith, Hagar.” the sweet girl introduced. “This is Heahmund, he is our priest and protector. That over there is my husband, Finnian. He is a good man, and he will let you stay with us.”

“You mustn’t.” Alethia began immediately, but Eadith hushed her. 

“Come, let me help you find some proper clothes. You must be freezing.”

“I am… I will make myself useful.” Alethia mumbled, more towards herself than anyone else. She was using these people, and that made her feel terrible. “I am a healer.”

Eadith smiled. “Good.” she whispered under her breath, taking her away from the stares. Alethia watched as Heahmund kept his eyes on her, before he turned towards the man Eadith had pointed out to be her husband. Finnian. 

“I am carrying my first child.” Eadith confessed after a while. “I am scared, and the last midwife just died in the winter. A fever took her, God rest her soul.”

“I will help you.” Alethia promised. “You do not have to help me for it. Your kindness today has been more than enough.”

“We are both Christian women, then.” Eadith smiled. “And that means you should know that I would never demand payment of a sister in need.”

God, how was there a soul so kind in a world like this , Alethia wondered.

“I am sorry about your husband, Athelstan.” Eadith said after a while, and Alethia’s heart clenched at the sound of his name. “He did not deserve to die. You are a good woman, Hagar.”

“I try.” Alethia replied. She would leave this place in the dead of night in less than a year and leave behind the people that were helping her already. Was that what a good person did? She shook her head. “I do not think it is enough.”

“And that is precisely what makes you good.” Eadith said. Alethia tried to believe her. 

[lumi-klovstad-games]

On Shadowheart's faith and how it mirrors my own (some heavy topical talk of religion and faith, FYI)

I've seen Shadowheart get dragged for her faith and her cagey-ness and unwillingness to talk about herself and especially her religion, and on the one hand, YES, she does worship a deity who wants to dissolve creation back into primordial darkness out of a petty and childish grudge. Like, that isn't nothing.

But when I hear Shadowheart talk about what her faith means to her, what this goddess who everyone else calls evil (and from our outside perspective, rightly so) means to her... to be honest, I hear my own spiritual journey in her words.

I was raised a Christian and now primarily worship Lilith, one of many names Christianity considers a straight up demon. But... because my family and community doesn't share that faith, I have to live in their world. So I've gotten practiced at keeping quiet about this fundamental part of myself, at playing the game with my cards close to the chest. When the topic of my faith comes up, I do my best to deflect the conversation or give a diplomatically worded non-answer, and yeah, I do get flustered and irritated when pressed if I didn't choose to reveal these details on my own. After all, one's faith is a DEEPLY personal thing, a core function of who they are that in many ways defines them.

While I have the wonder and the pleasure to know plenty of folks for whom my faith means exactly nothing, or is at most an unorthodox point of curiosity and vague interest, that's not how things started. The first few years after I found my own faith were.... rough. I wasn't sure who I could trust with that part of me, who I could trust to not ridicule me or accuse me of doing it for attention. I can only imagine what it would be like for Shadowheart to live life as part of a cult that is actively suppressed and hunted, where, in fact, "they" ARE in fact out to get her.

My divorce from my parent's god came when I was disillusioned as a teenager. The incredibly likable and charismatic pastor who had overseen my Confirmation had moved on to a new church, and I realized that when I prayed, there really wasn't... anything there. Nobody on the other end, or at least nobody interested enough to listen. I don't think Pastor Dan was a bad guy or a charlatan or anything. I think he really had meant to help. But in his effort to make his faith accessible/relevant, etc., he'd oversold it, and without his likability to reinforce things, I found myself in a reality that was significantly darker and less caring than I was led to expect, and I was left feeling that kind of alone you can only feel in a room full of people who don't even acknowledge you. I can't speak to whether the Christian God is real or not, only that it never once spoke to me in all my years of praying to it.

And while Shadowheart isn't remembering fully or accurately, and she has been manipulated by the Cult of Shar far more than she's initially ready to accept, that doesn't mean how she feels is incorrect. We are the sum of what we can remember, after all. Our feelings and opinions in large part are determined by what we have experienced and can recall. When she talks about what Shar specifically means to her, and how through Shar she found meaning in her moments of greatest darkness and pain, I get that. Like, that's literally where my faith was found: when I was at my lowest point, in a period of incredible darkness, self-harm and nearly worse. And in that moment of darkness, I had an experience: "I am not the one you prayed to, but I will help you, if you let me."

To say that was a transformative moment isn't doing it justice. It's the kind of moment that changes a life.

And that's what happened to Shadowheart, at least by her recollection, her truth. The objective truth in-game is of course more complicated and tells a much more dramatic story, but to be honest, Larian could have left it there and had Shadowheart's account be 100% correct and true and found some other way to use her faith to challenge her and it would have worked just as well, because Shadowheart's tale is a realistic one at its core: a lonely, suffering, desperate child finds a VERY unlikely savior. To boot, said savior is an incredibly dark being that others purely have cause to fear and mistrust, one not known for compassionate action. Of course Shadowheart plays it close to the chest. Of COURSE she assumes others won't trust her if they know more about her. All she's ever known of sharing her faith with outsiders has been fear, mistrust, and even persecution. Their experience with her goddess is so, SO incredibly different from hers, they literally cannot understand why she would find meaning in or be loyal to such a deity. I know what that's like because I've lived that, if to a far less extreme degree.

And it was SO NICE to have a character who made my lived experience feel seen — even if the writers DID pull the rug out from under me later, the fuckers.

[carrickbender]

Friday 5

- There are days when I really like my new job- i see amazing people making a difference and saving lives. But 2 days in a row of reasons why some people shouldn't have kids has left me empty. Yesterday was bad enough that I just came home and needed a needed a Henry hug. Fentenyl is a horrible drug, and the conditions and things that lead to the desperation that is it's use for an escape are just as horrible. Do better world, do better...

- It's going to be cloudy tomorrow am, so not going be eclipsing that much. Still, I'm hopeful. Mom assed out on going to Newberg to maybe see it too, so at least we might get some sleep. One thing about my mom is that I dont have to look any further to find an example of how to overextend and exhaust oneself. Ok, point taken...

- Our 'classroom' at work is in a county office, and it has a head of a freakishly large Roosevelt Elk hanging on the wall by the stairs, and 47 y.o. me fights back the urge to boop its snoot every day. I mean, its a DNR building, the elk is vrai apprapo,but still... #whyamilikethis #12goingon47

- CBC did a great job with graphics the other day, I couldn't help but share. Such a great job linking the byline, somebody deserves a raise. We are talking damn near Fox quality work here!

- Henry met the reptile man today at school, and it couldn't have been better. Total opposite of yesterday where... well, he tried to poop in the urinal. And before you ask, yes he knows the difference but I think he forgot in his desperation. I'm gonna file that away(almost said nugget, talk about a poor use of words, right?) for some future humour when he brings someone home to meet mom and dad. The janitor was kind about it, and H said she was going to make him cookies as a thank you. I thought that was a great plan, but though no bakes would not be appropriate.

Anyhow, pardon my absence. This last week has been awful for so many reasons. I know we have all been watching what's unfolding in Israel, and to be honest I'm filled with grief(Im sure you all are too). The messages I had to send that morning to my friends, asking about parents, sisters, kids...fucking awful, and I know mine were easy because everybody was safe. It's made me think about how contrary both Hammas and Likud are to the idea of tikkun olam, about how we need to repair the world- not just as part of a religious faith but as a doctrine of a greater belief in humanity. In my humble opinion, making a world where Palestinian children and Israeli children wouldn't even think twice about killing each other would be the best goal. Yet here we are... Peace and love be with you friends.

[temporarypenintraining]

no one asked but I am going to detail my "Cole and Wu are the lone survivors in the First Realm" AU because screw you that's why. -So basically it's exactly what it says on the tin. The Ninja use the traveller's tea to escape the Colossus but it's too late and Kai, Jay and Zane are killed, leaving Cole and Wu alone in the Realm of Oni and Dragons. -Wu ages slower than in canon, at a basically human rate (which is still faster than his normal rate). -Cole decides that integrating into the Hunter society gives him the best chance at survival, so Wu is raised as "Dangerbuff Junior" the whole time. -Back in Ninjago, it starts out about the same as in canon but Garmadon ends up remaining emperor for 5 years as opposed to the like, month he had in Hunted. -Mystake gets to live as repayment for killing her off in canon and the Tea Shop AU. -The Resistance is even more depressed, especially since they know for a fact that at the very least Zane is dead. -How do they know this? Nya found Pixal sobbing in a corner covered in frost. -Lloyd's arm injury (from season 8) keeps flaring up and getting re-injured to the point where it's safer to just amputate it. -Eventually the Serpentine have to get involved because this whole evil takeover is going on for a lot longer than they thought it would. -Cole is initially very against the idea of killing/eating dragons but eventually it becomes clear that he doesn't have a lot of options and he ends up becoming a really good dragon hunter and he and the rest of the group grow very close. -Wu's memories are hazy at best and, again, he's ageing at a normal human rate. He makes friends with the other kids and stuff and pretty much just IS a hunter kid. -Heavy Metal ends up trusting Cole enough to reveal who she really is, at which point he also reveals who he really is and who his son is, at which point Faith is like "Wait he's the FSM's son?? And you didn't bother to mention it until now???" -Cole rallies everyone to overthrow the Iron Baron at some point idk. -Over his reign, Garmadon slowly starts to reconsider the whole "being an evil emperor" thing, but he's already pretty committed to the bit at this point. -His 5-year reign is ended when he's straight-up murdered by his son (because let's be honest, his character can't really go anywhere from here and there's no chance of reconciliation). -Cole and Wu (or rather Rocky Dangerbuff and Dangerbuff Junior) are in the First Realm for 10 years. anyway everything else is still in the works and I haven't fleshed it out yet but I just really like this idea.

[greenknighteitm]

Edited: to @holycrapitis i'm going into this with the Idea that Trump is guilty. I am interested in this evidence you say that exists of him not doing these crimes and the evidence of democrat crimes. I will be honest to you, I will fact check it, because of the rampant propaganda everywhere, rMost(I don't think any but I could be wrong. Im being lazy and not reading to make sure) of it directed at you isn't about the charges.

It seems like it's a confusing mess of policies... It seems a felon would need a waiver, not sure how one would get one. But it seems likely a waiver wouldn't work with how many felonies he has, tho I can't say I'm terribly informed on the exact charges to say that with certainty since this was just a quick google.

I would tend to agree with this person but as far as I know people used maruijana could be felons and I don't think those people should be disqualified depending on their other qualites.

Like I think this blank kind of statement does a lot of harm to minorites, which isn't that the kind of thing leftists, even democrats, are trying to avoid?

But it's possible that Trump is legally not allowed for different reasons, I wish it said what ones.

So onto the person I reblogged from.

The majority of people who voted probably aren't Communists, like the cold war propaganda is still very much in effect. And kamala definitely isn't, especially economically, and generally I don't think politicians Democrats are communist and are probably mostly still running on the ideas of the cold war. Theres definitely some outliers who are closer but definitely no elected.

And as the past shows, communists aren't necessarily going to be socially leftist (equality for all, in everything, raise people and lower people to become equal, etc . Because a lot of people who are rich become rich of the exploitation of others. We should give the value back to those who are exploited.) And I'm sure there's people on the social left who think kamala still isnt far enough, which might be.

Hmm there's got to be some words to define socially left other then being equal...

Anyways people know Trump was legally elected, but legal doesnt mean good. As far as I know, which to be fair isn't much, in the echo chambers who want trump to be president the idea was that trump was elected but was illegally changed. But I'm not in those circles so it's possible another narrative was that he would've if Democrats didnt make the votes turn their way, in legal ways.

AFAIK which honestly isn't much again since scrolling down theories on why we lost is psychlogically damaging no matter what side it is or even what it is I think

The theories I have heard say that Republicans gerry mandered the hell out of counties to get the results we got. But idk if that's an actual theory because then leftists are just being hypocrites(which I feel can be a good reaction if you feel like your in danger) about the electoral college since in the situation where its just Gerrymander at fault Trump would have still have the popular vote. So I think a more reasonable theory would be it had an effect, but not to the point where kamala won. The biggest effect was propaganda, in all of its forms. Even from people who don't know they are. If it's content showing a specific opinion, it's propaganda to someone. To educate you need good faith back to back conversation and research between people. At least in my opinion. With that definition intent definitely matters IMO since like an ad is explicit propaganda while a lot of content is implicit propaganda.

TBH I'm not liking this narrative that people who voted for Trump understand the consequences and believe the same things Trump does. Especially if they were like me and tuned out politics when he was elected like I did with biden, which I'm ashamed about. There's too many variables for me to believe that they all hold the same beliefs as trump.

Hold some of them? Believe lies about about both? Both? All the above? Yeah, sure. But I think it's crucial to not stereotype people who think different. It allows for dehumanization I feel which won't help us to grow this nation and have its citizens mature. Not to say the country is immature, in the traditional sense, where I think thats viewed as a bad thing, more that there's more progress to be made and when we think more globally, we realize there's so much more room to grow.

Want to say thanks to @holycrapitis for catching my attention and getting some of my thoughts together. I think when something like this happens, where the candidate you wanted to win doesn't, it activates the same emotions as grief does. So I've kinda been avoiding the topic. I'm sorry to those who were on the other side and got hurt even more by those who won while you were grieving four years ago no matter how much I disagree with you and how much I think these beliefs will hurt this country and my friends and family.

Its a shame I don't see this kind of empathy more. We should always start with this kindness. But it's what tribalism does. It dehumanizes the "them" and says its for the good of all, that it is justified, etc. Its never justified. It only hurts everyone.

[strawberrijellyfish]

Confession sucks! Kind of. || Yap No. 4 ᯓᡣ𐭩

Is it bad that I only feel obligated to follow the word of God? Y'know, Christianity, and stuff. I live in a country where Roman Catholic is a big thing around here, it's how I have been practically raised, in all honesty. And to be honest, I feel forced to go through it all, like, going to church, praying every night. I just feel so, iffy? about it? To be clear, my parents are amazing, they're great. They don't force this on me or anything, it's just something that--y'know, they stick their faith to. AND I'M NOT SAYING THAT'S WRONG OR ANYTHING. It's amazing how everyone has different beliefs and ideas, it's what makes us so unique and interesting and beautifully flawed. But I just don't know. I wanna live my life without the fear of God flowing through the back of my mind sometimes, haha. It's scary. It's terrifying, and I'm just, I don't know. "Pray to God, he'll help you."

Yet, it kind of feels, I don't know. I feel disconnected from him, them? We don't really know if God has a gender, that's Jesus right? He's a he, and God's a, honestly I don't know. I'll refer to them as they. I'd like to think Jesus would be cool with me being homosexual, that God would be ok with it because it's just a natural thing right? Animals, like cats, dogs, penguins, elephants, all animals have a percentage of homosexuality in them so I don't understand why it's wrong when we do it. They don't have the will and emotional (?) intellect that we do right? It's just instincts for them so like! I don't know why it's so wrong for us, for me to like the same sex gender. It's, I don't know. I'm supposed to confess my sins today, and my father gave me this 4 paged instruction on how to confess to the priest. And I read through it, like how I was supposed to and, I don't know. "Have I been guilty of homosexual activity?" Hahaha, what's that supposed to mean?! I'm--yes! I have, actually. I have, I have crushed on men and women alike, I have liked a girl, and I have liked a boy, and I have liked a person too! I crush on anyone who is cute, or funny, or fits my overall vibe. I crush on people who are sexy or hot! Like, I'm kind of tired of having this subtle, deep thought that it's kind of wrong to do these or think these--kinds of things! Which is kind of stupid, but, I don't know! Is it because I feel disconnected from God, do I feel-- so stupidly reckless or harmful to myself? Is it because I feel disconnected from God, do I feel so stupidly sad and emotional over the littlest things? Is it because I feel disconnected from God, I just feel like shit sometimes? It's so stupid. I hate it, I hate myself for feeling disconnected from God. I hate myself for not putting the effort to pray every night, I hate myself that I feel like my faith in him is just dwindling, I hate myself for not, I don't know. I believe his real, or at least, I feel obligated to believe he's real. It's so stupid, haha! I feel like I'm doing something wrong, which I technically am, I mean, basically everything that I'm doing--every action that I take, is some kind of sin. I saw an art of Bucky and got distracted, HUEHAHAHAA!

[aestheticsandrelics]

I haven’t been on this app in a minute. What provoked me to redownload it? I’m not sure. Call it nostalgia if you will but here I am. I moved to a new city nearly 2 years ago. I’m 2400 miles away from home and I feel like I’m the loneliest I’ve ever been.

I’ve made “friends” here but as of lately I’ve felt ostracized, abandoned, and forgotten and it’s caused me to feel a range of emotions but primarily— pain. More so because I thought I had found community here. Personally, I don’t do well with feeling like I’m thrown away by people I love. Maybe it’s my daddy issues. What’s in interesting is when I first moved, I didn’t know a soul and I didn’t feel remotely lonely.

No one forced me to move here to the Pacific Northwest from Louisiana. I get this. I’m well aware. I felt in my heart that it was time to move out of my hometown while I still wanted to move. An opportunity presented itself and I seized. I believe it’s important to move out of one’s hometown because in my opinion, that’s how one truly grows. In my almost 2 years here, I’ve learned a lot about myself.

People ask me often what miss most about home. For starter…I miss being around black people. I miss being around and connected to my culture. I miss my mother. I miss my grandmother. I miss my dad. I miss my friends. I miss going to Tejas with them on Saturdays for brunch and we’d just cut up and laugh. Talk about any and everything and just laugh endlessly. I miss my church. Praising and worshipping God the way that I’m accustomed to. I miss the food, the food was comforting. Louisiana has the best food imaginable and I’m so happy I never took it for granted. I just miss being my authentic raw self. No code switching. No facade.

Perhaps I’m just homesick and well overdue for a visit back home. The last time I visited home was almost a year ago. What I hated is that felt like a stranger in the city I grew up and was raised in. Nevertheless, home is home.

I have a girlfriend whom I love with everything in me. She’s truly a godsend and she’s everything I prayed for in a partner…but she lives in Southern California. If I’m being honest, the distance is hard most times. We make an effort to see each other at least every two months and we’ve planned for her to move here with me in the next year. I’m sold she’s who I want to spend my life with. We met organically— in person. It was truly love at first sight.

But I still feel lonely. I’m alone. These are the facts. While I’m comfortable being alone, most times I prefer it, this isn’t healthy. I prayed to God today to send me a best friend. Someone whom I can be my authentic self with. We share common interest. Have the same faith. Loyal and trustworthy. Emotionally intelligent. Black lol.

I’m a fly in a milk bowl. A black man in a sea of white. I’m alone and I’m lonely. This is reality for me lately.

[jonnyardor]

[Intro]

Understand, understand, understand

See my face, I'm done sayin: I aint playin

I am loved and Reborn, every day

I'm my own version of a real man

[Verse]

Felon in the eyes of my fam, really irritating

Weeping on the melons of Madame, keep em irrigated

Treated as an afterthought, they'll regret in hindsight

Streamin when my palm writes, income like pipelines

My rap is deeper than coitus and high life

Sobering thoughts and my fantasy is sky high

I got a good wife, we're raising ours right

True to my new self, I'm living Christ like

Should've passed out brother fingers to my little siblings

Cuz the way they passed me up, hate without a ceiling

Bigotry like this is why my wife abhors religion

Lukewarm Christians praying loud but God wont care to listen

Technological advancement, I can be more graphic

Imma knock your lights out, leave you keysmashing

Slap out the bass, out of wannabe Chuck

Chuckle at his gibberish, fucked his wernicke up

--

Head up your ass, I'll knot your arms , youre a pretzel

Head of mine critiqued, but it soon became the stencil

Brown noser relatives (immer am scharwetzeln)

Can't take my jokes? Let me hide a pencil

Dark humour is morbid, not anti-Black racist

Germans were zombies, gold diggers, makeshift

Graveyard shift but holes were like craters

At least in Namibia they buried their leaders

Skulls as a trophy like soldiers american

Did to Iraqis, Afghans, Iranians

They emigrate and change race like Kardashian

Big nose is vilified, Disney thinks Aryan

Papa named me Jonathan, God's gift, heaven-sent

Now he's bedridden, Godspeed, you're coming back

Instead of grieving, the rest seems hellbent

No to bereavement, keep acting heartless

Towards me and my wife and my offspring

Too often, neighbors and aunties did gossip

About me, then they believed their own stories

Sorry, your works dont give my God glory

Call me, verify what you heard about me

Doubt me, openly, long's you confront me

Taunt me, long as I know, you're really for me

But dont speak, ill about me, when I'm your homie

It's lonely, not just up top, but when you fall deep

Was horny, cramped in a room with kid and shawty

So corny, in-laws look sour, not resolving

So jarring, mad for no reason, it gets boring

Be honest, spell out your issues and move onward

A forward, attacking me nonstop like a coward

Dont cower, face your emotions, feel empowered

Where His presence towers, I can't get devoured

Verse

You were wrong for choosing your publicity

Over showing up for a woman in her pregnancy

Jeopardizing beating hearts, scoffing at their misery

You wont see their infancy without an apology

Narcisstistic mom and dad,

One had money, one had kids

Some of us did not repair,

Some need honeys, some need drinks

Pressure felt from everyone,

You're afraid what people think

So you're living how you're told

And you shame the mavericks

Thank you for your 3 horrendous months

Had a place to sleep, but we were on the run

When you kicked us out, He gave me an apartment

God is Lord over the storm, I'll never jump ship

Always faithful to my love, not like y'all did

Get offended bout my lines if the shoe fits

Fuck your feelings, cuz my heart has your shoeprints

Blocked your contact, until God gave me a new lens

(Chorus) x4

Understand, understand, understand

See my face, I'm done sayin: I aint playin

I am loved and reborn, every day

I'm my own version of a real man

[Outro]

Oh oh

Real man

Oh oh oh oh oh

Real Man

[tender-rosiey]

omg you're taking requests uhm, can i request for dazai and/or chuuya where he overheard his co-worker confide to kunikida or to yosano (in chuuya's case, it's tachihara or anyone in the port mafia lol) about her feelings towards him? like, she really went into detail as to why she loves him and wants to be there for him but she's scared that dazai doesn't feel the same way or she thinks he doesn't find her attractive esp when she did attempt to confess but they were too dense to put two and two together lmao im in the mood for angst and fluff so feel free to go wild with this one haha thank you~!

“RAMBLE OF LOVE”

— dazai and chuuya hearing you talk about them

DAZAI OSAMU:

“I don’t know, yosano; it’s hopeless.”

“are you serious right now?” yosano deadpans as you frown at her.

you get up, exasperated, “I have tried to confess twice! twice! and he either doesn’t get it or can’t find it in him to outright reject me!”

“you think dazai wouldn’t be able to figure something out?” she questions.

you sigh, “that means that it is the other option so I should probably stop liking him,” accepting defeat after god knows how long.

“you know it isn’t that easy; you can’t just stop feeling for someone, y/n.”

you look at her before finally bursting, “obviously it isn’t! I have spent the majority of my time either thinking about how much I love the idiot or how I want to be by his side and be there for him!”

“with a side of solving crime and saving the world.”

“yes and that too, but honestly I have gotten to the point that I NEED him to reject me so I can move on with my life and be a normal single person!”

yosano catches a figure standing outside the door and smirks lightly before speaking up, “say y/n, why do you like dazai so much?”

“first of all, I am wayyyyy past ‘like’; second of all, I like him because he is funny, cute, charming, smart, caring when he wants, observant and most importantly, he, deep inside, wants to do good.”

“oh?” she perks up at that, “why?”

“I…dont know much about his past with the mafia, but if he left then there has to be at least a part of him that is good,” you smile softly as you gaze into the ground, “I also don’t know much does he actually trust me, but if we ever have a chance, I would like to tell him that I am willing to shoulder his pains because he doesn’t deserve to go all of that alone.”

“and all of that because you love him?” she smiles and stands up then walks to the door.

“uhh, yeah? that was literally the introduction of my monologue,” you say, watching her walking.

“well, it’s a good thing that he heard all of that,” she announces before slamming the door open, “eavesdropping is a bad trait, dazai.”

he raises his hand up in mock-surrender, “I would never do such thing.”

she rolls her eyes and ruffles your hair, “I will let you two be,” then she closes the door behind her after she leaves.

you can see dazai processing things, and soon you and dazai stare into each other for a while, but a smirk settles on his lips, “so you love me, huh?—“

“if you’re going to reject me then do it quickly please,” you hurriedly say before looking away, not being to handle looking at him.

“hey now, I never said that I was going to reject you,” he points out, softly, but you merely side-eye him so he continues, “neither am I joking.”

he pouts and mumbles, “you really have no faith in me.”

you look away once again and fail to see the small smile that makes its way to his face; however, you hear his light footsteps as he approaches you.

he takes a hold of your hand and rubs it gently with his thumb, “I am going to be honest with you,” he notices how you tense up and kisses the back of your hand to calm you down, “I was going to say that I love you too, silly.”

“are you…sure?” you ask softly and gently bumps your foreheads and hums.

“never been more sure in my life,” he admits.

he smiles teasingly, “in fact, my honesty was going to be about how much I do and why; it’s only fair if I ramble about my love for you as well, no?”

NAKAHARA CHUUYA:

“I am going to throw myself off a bridge.”

“oh no, not this again,” tachihara cowers.

“oh it’s this again!” you admit before freaking out, “did you see how good he looked getting off that motorcycle?!”

“how is he so attractive?!” you screech and he shrugs making you pout, “tachihara, cooperate!”

“I don’t see what is attractive about him!”

you take a breath and hear a small ‘what have I done’ from tachihara but start either ways, “first, his voice; holy crap his voice is so hot like yes sir please do talk more, let me listen to you talk about every single type of wine in the industry.”

“second, his eyes, they are so HEHEE! I can barely keep eye contact with him,” you fangirl and continue doing so, “and bro his entire physique honestly! I can’t think of a man that’s better than him in literally ANY category, sorry tachihara.”

he waves you off, but puts out another question, “what about his personality? what makes you so in love with him?”

“well,” you shyly start off, “he is a gentleman, he is nice, respectful, very kind and compassionate, trustworthy and overall an amazing person. I really can’t put it into words.”

“what about his anger issues?”

“oh no, he has every right to get angry at you people; everyone here is insufferable,” you say and tachihara huffs.

“but,” and the sadness in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by your best friend, “i don’t think he feels the same.”

“why??” he asks, memory flashing back to every single time chuuya came to freak out about something cute you did and how much you fluster him, visibly so.

literally everyone can see it, except you.

“I don’t know; it’s just a feeling,” you murmur sitting down, “I am pretty obvious with my feelings and don’t necessarily hide it that much.”

that as well is true, which leads to only once conclusion that tachihara can think of: you both are undeniably stupid, clueless and are a pain in the ass to everyone around you because of how clueless you both are.

“well it’s a stupid damn feeling alright,” he quips and quickly gets a pack of tissues thrown at him.

however, he quickly recovers and with a smile and teases you, “sooo it’s safe to say that you love chuuya, right?”

“I have said that I love chuuya at least 4 times today; what’s wrong with you?”

you hear the sound of a glass breaking and turn around to see a red-faced chuuya who, for the life of him, can’t look you in the eye right now.

“oh shit,” you mumble and notice tachihara, sneaking out giggling. the bastard.

amidst the wine on the floor, the ticking of the clock and the blowing of the wind, chuuya barely mumbles out a sentence, “i l…v you… too.”

but you, obviously, didn’t hear anything, “what?”

he grumbles and walks closer to you, “i love you too.”

“chuuya, i really can’t hear you,” you say.

“I SAID I LOVE YOU TOO, YOU FREAKING IDIOT!” he yells and crosses his arms.

“jeez okay, no need to yell!” you shout back and he raises an eyebrow before sighing.

his arms wrap around your waist and he presses a kiss to your cheek, “you’re a handful, y’know.”

“already?” you giggle and he nods.

taglist: @magenta-cat-drawingss @pompompurin1028 @scul-pted @dazaisdeathwish @requiem626k @nameless-shrimp @shinys-bsd-world-1 @sonder-paradise @ravenina14 @jessbeinme15s-notebook @todorokichills @ginneko @missrown @shrynkk @simplyxsinned @beautiful-is-boring @bakugossanity @izukus-gf @irethepotato @thekaylahub @luciferspen @aeanya @sweetcloudsimp @moon-catto @waosobii

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[silversodas]

Casey may be one of the biggest parts of Leo’s arch

I am actually having a lot of fun trying to guess what Casey’s purpose is in the movie before it comes out, specifically what it might mean for Leo

Let’s start with what is different about this Casey and what may have stayed the same (again going off of observation nothing is confirmed). This incarnation of Casey Jones seems vary straight forward and to the point. A core trait of Casey is that he is…simple, not as in stupid, as in he never really needs to over think anything he does and has a good natural sense of right and wrong. He is also a good remedy for the over thinker pointing out an easier solution. Often times coming off as brash, as he never explains things people need to hear gently, just says it like it’s obvious

I think this may come into play while working on the team

Casey knows what an effective Leo, Mikey, and possibly Donnie ( depending on when they lost him) look like, and knowing Casey Jones as a character he is probably going to keep forgetting that they are teenagers and completely different people from the ones he lost. But I believe it will have both good and bad sides to it. The good side is that he provides a fresh perspective to what they can do, and have faith in them because he has literally seen what they are capable of. This may even help their confidence in themselves

The bad side may be mostly on Leo’s end, because we know his feelings on being a leader. Though judging by how comfortable he looks (or how hard is trying to look) in Raph’s chair. I Think Casey combined with the urgency of the situation gave him the confidence to at least try. But that will probably start going down hill the more things get out of control

Now what’s different about this Casey? Now technically we can’t tell yet, but one big difference I haven’t seen anyone point out yet is that he is not playful. Like here

I just thought it was weird that he didn’t have million smart ass remarks, even if humor was all he had he wasn’t going to let the other person get the better of him. So it’s really weird that he was still straight forward and to the point and not his usual snarky self we see in past incarnations. It could be a product of being raised in apocalyptic hell, courtesy of the Flying Spaghetti Monster. And that left him to be more honest and straight forward rather then sarcastic and brutal honesty

around future Leo his face is so open, most likely because he trusts him, but it gives me a sense that he is an honest person in general. You can see every emotion he is feeling across his face (I wonder if that’s part of the reason for the mask) the vary first thing I liked about him where his facial expressions

I still feel like their relationship is gonna get worse then better then go back down before they find solid common ground. Because let’s be real their situation is emotionally fucked. What’s fun for me is thinking about small in between moments.

1) Leo saying something familiar and Casey conversing back as if he has known him for years and doesn’t realize till he notices Leo silently staring at him that this is the first time they had this conversation

2) Leo seeing Casey look at him with open admiration and not knowing how to feel about being looked at like he is someone special

3) don’t know why I am partial to the idea of it slowly dawning on Leo and the others that Leo was a Father for Casey, but I am.

4) Leo does something that causes a flashback to future Leo and watching present Leo gives him insight to why he was the way he was

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

I don't understand why people think Aang was being condescending toward Katara in the southern raiders episode. Even one toxic ZK shipper thought Aang was coming to her with a "My way is the only way" mentality. Even before I was a Kataang shipper I knew that Aang was showing nothing but concern.

Also, Zuko wasn't trying to gain Katara's approval out of romantic interest (I mean that's pretty damn obvious but I am trying to make a point here) Zuko trying to gain Katara's approval parallels him trying to gain his father's approval. And it's lovely, Zuko realizing that gaining Katara's approval would be more worthwhile than his abusive father.

Also at the end of southern raiders Zuko brought Aang to Katara so he can check up on her...

Aang even compared Katara's fury and pain to the one he felt when he found out he lost literally everyone he had ever known - one of the many times he went into the Avatar State, something he tried to weaponize and KATARA was worried, told him not to, and told him that it was too painful for her to watch him give into his grief. It's almost like that was a deliberate parallel or something...

And in what world was Aang EVER like "My way is the only way"? If anything, he had to sacrifice nearly everything to do his duty as the Avatar - a duty he never asked for, wanted, or saw himself as capable of doing right.

But I guess that the simple of idea of "A 12-year-old boy, who on top of being a child was also raised as a pacifis doesn't want to kill people, doesn't want people to kill each other, and definitively doesn't want to see his best friend murder someone" is just too difficult for people to grasp, especially when they WANT him to be a bad person just so they can go on and on about how their crackship was actually totally meant to be.

And you did well to bring up that Zuko brought Aang to check on Katara. It's almost like Zuko isn't really that close to her, or wasn't even her friend at all until that scene, while Aang was the one she has known, been friends with, travelled with, and fought side by side with when things got rough FOR MONTHS.

It really says a lot about how Zutarians don't really have any faith in their own ship. If they did, they wouldn't feel the need to straight up lie about events of the show, deliberately try to cast anything Aang does in a bad light, and never shut up about the few times Zuko had any kind of positive (or at the very least not hostile) interaction with Katara, while ignoring all the times Aang showed he cared about her both as a friend and as the girl he was into, AND all the times Katara showed she LIKED Aang's attention, affection, company, and yes, honest advice, regardless of who was right or it not being what she wanted to hear.