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#PLEASE LOOK AT THE WORD YOU ARE USING
selffagellation · 2 years
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one thing about me is that i will never not be picky about which omni- people use in religion
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 6 months
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Don't Wormy About Me.
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vampyfrnk · 2 months
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happy birthday ray toro! - july 15th, 1977
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agendratum · 2 months
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lee know’s underappreciated dad jokes collection (3/?)
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lovesickeros · 1 year
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☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]
{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]
This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.
She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.
But it'd been almost a week since then.
The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.
That counted for something.
Not much, but something!
..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.
There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.
She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.
So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.
Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.
Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.
Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.
She really didn't like it.
There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.
She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.
She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.
That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.
Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.
But he wasn't.
He was out running her nation, instead.
And what was she doing? Nothing!
She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.
Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.
Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.
..She wasn't ready.
What was she supposed to say?
Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?
She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.
For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.
Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.
Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.
It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.
"Focalors?"
The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.
She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.
"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"
The silence is deafening.
She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.
"What the hell are you talking about?"
That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!
"Lady Furina?"
Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.
"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.
Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.
Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.
"Why aren't you killing me?"
The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.
She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.
"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."
The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.
He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.
..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?
How unfair.
"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"
She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.
..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.
She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.
For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.
Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.
For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.
Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.
She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.
She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.
She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.
"Again."
#sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin impact sagau#self aware genshin impact#fic tag#neuvillette#focalors#furina#dont ask what happened here idk#this was. also supposed 2 be neuvi focused and then i.#dont talk 2 me abt focalors i wont ever shut up#got a 300k word essay on hand abt how i feel abt her character/how i interpret her personality and her story#focalors jsut like me fr fr (cries at the slightest inconvenience or the slightest mean comment)#shes so pathetic girlfail im gonna chew on her#what happens when reader gets stuck with two emotionally repressed french bastards?? hell#neuvi is the “emotionless” flavor of emotionally repressed in that hes HORRIBLE at showing emotions at all#ask him to smile and its incredibly unnerving and theres too many teeth but hes trying his best please call him pretty or he will cry :(#furina is the flavor of emotionally repressed where she makes it up by having Too Many emotions#using theatrics and masks to show everyone what they want to see but inside this girl is a MESS#constant anxiety and panic 24/7#will do random shit and look at you and if u dont compliment her she will think u hate her and cry#compliment her and she'll do even stupider shit to try and impress you more#i love my scrunkly little babies they r so stupid and mentally ill someone get these bitches some THERAPY#i want 2 put them under a microscope#watch this be ooc fr furina when more of her lore drops if shes not girlfail im leaving#anyway see u in a week im going on a trip ill get back 2 u in 6-7 business days
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raplinenthusiasts · 8 months
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BTS x Major Arcana
for @dearedwardteach 🖤 {cr. namuspromised / psd / cards}
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ghostespresso · 1 year
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staff logging on to tumblr dot com today
#staff sweetie i Promise you an algorithm would kill this webbed site#changing the way reblogs look/work would Absolutely kill this webbed site too#this is a Blogging Platform i dont want it to be like tiktok or twitter jesus#if you NEED to change something literally listen to the the Tumblr Users you pretend you cant hear#if money is what you need make your userbase Happy and you should be fine#the shop is fine blaze posts are fine ad free subscriptions are fine but dont get rid of shit that Works For You in favor of making money#someone really laced up their clown boots today im. so tired staff please dont#tumblr staff#EDIT: staff updated their original post to say we were all misunderstanding but#that doesnt stop the post from being stupid#the whole post was worded for Investors and then presented to the userbase#if you say 'we have big changes planned!' and dont put in the 'as options' its Your Fault that people read it as 'were changing everything'#staff isnt stupid. they know how they Should have worded it better than what they did#so yeah. someone Did lace up their clown boots before they hit post#edit pt 2 lol for the record i dont think tumblr would actually go through with all their changes in that post#they know how the userbase is and there are A Lot of us#i just dont like how? idk. condescending? the post sounded#and out of every place on the internet being being burned alive in the name of money#tumblr is the one place i know enough about to be Actually mad at lol#ive really liked some stuff staff has done in recent years#but talking to your userbase that way wasnt one
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sincerely-sofie · 6 days
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Doodled some Cult of the Lamb while waiting for my brother to finish the testing we were doing!
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turtleblogatlast · 5 months
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Thinking about the Don Suave scene and what it means in terms of LGBTQ+ representation because my brain does nothing if not torment me with random topics to ramble about on the regular.
Anyway, I just wanted to ramble about why I like the scene but to get it out of the way - the scene can very easily be interpreted in so many different ways, and all of them are valid. I personally see it as Leo having at least some attraction to a man. And the following is an explanation of my own interpretation and thoughts on it and what it means especially for Leo’s portrayal in the grand scheme of things.
Long-winded interpretation under the cut!
Now, to start with, it’s important to me that in the scene Leo looks at Don Suave in the very beginning and then for the entirety of the rest of the time the man is on screen, Leo’s eyes are closed. Yet, in the end, he is still visibly enamored with Don Suave, happily cuddling up to him as he’s being carried away.
You can very easily interpret this as Leo being spellbound and that’s honestly super valid and I believe he likely was at least somewhat in the beginning, but considering how fast he looked away and how he never looked again, I personally think it makes more sense to read it as Leo just finding the man attractive, at least somewhat. (For the record, I personally headcanon Rise Leo as bisexual with a heavy preference for men, but I want to be blunt when I say that any interpretation is valid. Literally any. Ace, pan, gay, bi, none of the above or a mixture of something new literally all of it is more than okay and fair. Hell you could even interpret this entire scene as more romantic attraction than physical and it would still work. Anything goes!! Don’t bother people, guys, really.)
The main reason I take this scene to be at the very least LGBTQ+ adjacent isn’t just because of how it’s portrayed, but because of who Leonardo is. Not in terms of Rise of the TMNT, but in terms of the entire Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles™️ franchise.
Leo’s a character who, while changing with each iteration, has still at his core been around for decades upon decades as “the blue one”. One fourth of the team. He’s the one most are going to look at as the Leader, and oftentimes he is the one closest to having the title of Main Character. Not to say the others aren’t just as important, but Leo’s presence in the A plots of basically all TMNT media is often something very main character-esque.
And that’s very, very important to note. Here we have a Main Character of a prolific and decades long-running franchise distributed by a children’s television network. You can play around with his and his brothers’ characters all you like, but there is always going to be challenges to dodge around, especially since this was still in 2018-2019.
For example, you can play around with their designs so long as they’re color coded turtles, but their sexualities? Now that’s tricky.
“But what about Hypno and Warren?” Not main characters and also they’re Rise originals. They have a lot more room to play around with than a character like Leo does. But even talking about main characters in the franchise, you could arguably have an easier time playing around with Donnie or Mikey’s sexualities than Leo or even Raph, as (unfortunately) the former two tend to get more B plots, so they’d likely have had a little more leeway (still not a lot though.)
So, where does this leave us?
It leaves us in a place where outright stating and/or showing undeniable proof of Leo’s attraction to men is very, very difficult. So, workarounds!
Workarounds like the entire Don Suave situation.
To be honest, as left up to interpretation and lowkey and deniable as it is, this whole scene means a lot to me because of who Leo is as a character. It’s just nice when we get so see even the bare bones of representation with characters that have been such a large part of pop culture for decades, y’know? Even if more would be so much nicer, this is better than I thought we’d ever get for these boys.
And, again, literally nothing I’ve said is the only way to interpret it, I’m more than happy when people interpret media on their own honestly, it’s just something I’ve been thinking of lately and I was wondering if others felt the same way.
Whatever you think when you interpret this scene or Rise Leo as a whole, I just thought this would be interesting to think about, even if it was ramble-y, haha.
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mercisnm · 8 months
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Sweater weather shenanigans
Plus the lines, before I throw colours on it like an excitable squirrel:
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greenerteacups · 8 months
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Hi! I am an ardent fan of your writing, and I hope to be as sorted and planned as you some day in my own writing journey.
My question is: you have a keen eye when it comes to planning character personality, dynamics, and such. I've also been wading through your ask replies, and your insights into how you write people and how you make them play off of each other is so wonderful to read. If it's not too personal a q, how did you learn how to write like this? Did you go to school for writing, does it come from years of observing people, do you have reading list recs for "how to write real people and real interactions"?
Thanks! This is a really flattering question. I'll try to answer it honestly, because I wish someone had been brutally honest about this with me when I was a young writer.
I didn't go to school for writing. I started doing it when I was about nine years old. It sucked very badly. I kept writing throughout high school, and it still mostly sucked, but some of it was occasionally interesting. ("Interesting" here does not mean "good," by the way.) I took a break in college, and then came back. I've been writing ever since. Sometimes, I feel good about it. A lot of the time, I don't!
I hate giving this advice, because I remember how it feels to get it, and it's the most uninspiring, boring-ass, dog shit advice you can get, but it's also the only advice that is 100% unequivocally true: you have to write, and specifically, you have to write things that suck.
I do not mean that you should make things that suck on purpose. I mean that you have to sit down and try your absolute hardest to make something good. You have to put in the hours, the elbow grease, the blood, sweat, and tears, and then you have to read it over and accept that it just totally sucks. There is no way around this, and you should be wary of people who tell you there is. There is no trick, no rule, no book you can buy or article you can read, that will make your writing not suck. The best someone else can do is tell you what good writing looks like, and chances are, you knew that anyway — after all, you love to read. You wouldn't be trying to do this if you didn't. And anyone who says they can teach you to write so good it doesn't suck at first is either lying to you, or they have forgotten how they learned to write in the first place.
So the trick is to sit there in the miserable doldrums of Suck, write a ton, and learn to like it. Because this is the phase of your path as an artist when you find what it is you love about writing, and it cannot be the chance to make "good writing." This will be the thing that bears you through and compels you to keep going when your writing is shit, i.e., the very thing that makes you a writer in the first place. So find that, and you've got a good start.
Some people know this, but assume that perseverance as a writer is about trying to get to the point where you don't suck anymore. This is not true, and it is an actively dangerous lie to tell young writers. You are not aiming to feel like your writing doesn't suck. You are aiming to write. You are aiming to have written. Everything else is dust and rust. And of course, you'll find things you like about your pieces, you'll find things you're proud of, you'll learn to love the things you've made. But that little itch of self-criticism, in the back of your brain — the one that cringes when you read a clunky line, or thinks of a better character beat right after it's far too late to change — that's never going away. That's the Writer part of you. Read Kafka, read Dickens, read Tolstoy, you will find diary entries where they lament how absolutely fucking atrocious their writing was, and how angry they are that they can't do better. A good writer hates their sentences because they can always imagine better ones. And the ability to imagine a better sentence is what's going to make you pick up the pen again tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that.
Which is what I mean, and probably what all those other annoying, preachy advice-givers mean, when we say: a good writer is just someone who writes every day. It's that easy, and that hard.
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superfallingstars · 10 months
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marauders era faceclaims/fancasts but it's all musicians from the 60s-80s because i am insane. let's go
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first up is kate bush as lily! this felt so obvious. even though she's not a ginger and her eyes are hazel (i think?) instead of green, there's something so sweet and warm about her that makes her a perfect lily to me. and omg the pics of her as a child are sooo ridiculously cute.
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next up is andy partridge (my beloved) as james. he is in fact blond but i think the glasses are a wonderful coincidence. and he has a great face for james, very british-looking. honorable mention to steve albini who was my original pick but wasn't quite right (not very british-looking, does have black hair tho) – just wanted to mention that because i really only wanted to include him in this post to piss him off
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young chris cornell is literally scary accurate for sirius like his face might as well be directly lifted from my BRAIN. i was really hoping to find a 70s musician for him (these pics are from the late 80s) just for consistency among the marauders, but this was too good not to use
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next is alex chilton as remus. the pic on the left was when he was literally 17, while the middle one (and presumably the right one?) are when he's older. i might just be picking him because he reminds me of andrew garfield, who i don't even like as a fancast for remus, but he's infiltrated my subconscious nonetheless. also look at his little peace signs, isn't he so cute and silly and quirky? ok moving on
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i'll be honest i struggled with peter but i think i'm pretty happy with greg lake here. the hair is a little dated (these pics are probably from the late 60s?) but i like his big round face. and come on i needed SOMEONE from a prog rock band in this post. it just feels right for it to be peter
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alright i really struggled with snape so i'm including a few options and i really want to hear which one people like the best. personally i think the best fit is unfortunately young marilyn manson (first two pics). i was originally going to go with todd rundgren (next two) because of the long face, long hair, bad teeth... why are you booing me i'm right. i like that todd is a 70s guy because it feels more consistent with the other characters, but marilyn's got the goth factor... overall i think they're both DECENT, but i'm not sure if either one has quite the right nose. what do you guys think?
also shoutout to my many rejected snape picks, including steve peregrin took from t rex (not bad but not amazing, i debated including pics but this post is already long enough), rozz williams (too cool-looking), roger waters (meh), and frank zappa (PERFECT nose, but no good pictures without the giant mustache and the rest of his face isn't very snapey to me).
wow ok i can't believe i did this. this is so incredibly stupid but it also took me weeks to do, so i would love to hear what people think of my picks. you're welcome or i'm sorry or whatever
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Trying to transliterate Leara's name into Quenya, and it somehow becomes, uh,
Lëarra
Which basically means "You Sealion!"
And I'm just, "Oh yes, this is That Sealion Woman, and she can breathe fire, as all sealions do."
If Leara, for any reason at all, needed an actual Quenya or Sindarin name for any fun Elvish shenanigans, we'll just use Calairie/Calearil, which is "Light of the Sea" in Quenya and Sindarin, and what Leara actually means.
#I mean yes she uses vilya as her spy name but that's elrond's ring (ps elrond is my favorite i wanted you to know)#and elanor is her middle name and what she used in the blades but that's just a flower which yeah leara is big on roses#BUT ELANOR IS ALSO SAM'S DAUGHTER I CAN'T DO THAT#how did lin manuel miranda get on my likes playlist wth oh it's moana cool cool#anyway#coining a name like artanis felagund for a character has made me so twitchy that i have to do languages right now or not at all#ever look at aldmeris/altmeris and quenya and sindarin side by side and go 'huh there are a lot of crossover words what's up with that?'#BUT YOU KNOW IT'S BECAUSE TOLKIEN IS THE FATHER OF ELVISH AND ANY OTHER ELF LANGUAGE IS GOING TO BORROW#it's like uh oh he'd hate this comparison but it's like tolkien elvish is latin/greek and TES elvish is english#but yeah i brought maglor's name over into aldmeris so leara needed to be taken into quenya and sindarin#it's totally not because i'm still thinking of that hypothetical Skyrim/lotr leara/glorfindel fic#okay i am but it's even more pipedreamy than leara/astarion#keeping count is going to be 50+ chapters I am a COLLEGE STUDENT i am so tired please help me#I'm going to go make cookies in the air fryer now like an unhinged feral fey faerie child#which is what i am in case you were wondering which i note you WEREN'T#ahem#oc: leara roseblade#languages#mod post#BUT NO HOLD ON i don't know ANY D&D ELVISH WHATSOEVER but they told me astarion means little star and it's his childhood name#and i am like obviously because 'ion' means 'son of' in Sindarin and can easily become a diminutive suffix#i am dangerous around languages i can tell you where any cow is from just on the name alone its madness (is it? is it madness?)#okay now i'm done
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genericpuff · 11 months
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Hey so uhh about the Kawacy vampire comic my friend apparently is a fan and they said that it isn't grooming because the usual "He only loves her when she's an adult" and say that he also protect her from "actual predators"
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veetyuh · 4 months
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CW: non-graphic mentions of CSAM, graphic descriptions of the mental health effects of viewing it, and rambling about antis in relation to it. If you've heard my shpiel on this, sorry in advance.
I used to do content moderation so I have seen way too much actually vile shit. CSAM included. And it is difficult to describe the gravity of what seeing that does to a normal person. But here's my best shot at what it did to me, anyway.
Imagine you're given a video from some nondescript, totally blank (firstname_numbers) account, and when you open it, you can't quite process what's happening on screen. It's not blurry or dark or otherwise obscured. It's very clear, but your brain won't allow you to accept it for a solid 30 seconds. Then, there's horror that sinks into your bones and makes your stomach turn. There's some sort of primal, lizard-brain fury mixed in — and perhaps you even fantasize over retaliating with things you didn't fancy yourself capable of. There's soul-crushing sorrow as you recall there's nothing you can do to help stop this, and all you can do is bear witness to this atrocity, then pathetically report it after the fact. The video automatically unmutes. The sounds are the worst part. If you've ever seen the brick video, this audio is similar in that it haunts you forever. It's overwhelming. You cycle between these emotions so quickly that they blend into each other, and become greater than the sum of their parts. It's a nuclear bomb set off inside your skull. You want to cry, punch a wall, and throw up. You do none of those things because you are too stunned to function. And then suddenly, there's numbness. Like a switch has turned off all the feelings in your brain. All of the unspeakable things you were feeling are gone in an instant.
Maybe you're a tougher nut to crack. Maybe the switch doesn't flip for you on the first video. So you let those emotions ride out until they've physically exhausted you. You pace and you marinate in the aftermath, feeling like you need to vent but knowing you can't. You can't even summarize what you saw without painting a picture so disturbing that it'll fuck up whoever is kind enough to listen to you. All you can do is turn to a loved one, explain that you saw something earth-shatteringly upsetting, and hope they can distract you. Maybe they express sympathy and give their best effort. Maybe you give your own best effort. Maybe you drink or use substances to get away from it, but it still festers in the back of your mind the entire time.
But that switch will flip for you, eventually. And when it does, it'll have you shitting bricks. It's like a hurricane stopping, only for you to realize you're in the eye. One moment you're feeling physically ill from the strength of your own negative emotions — the next, you can't feel anything. Your head feels different. Clearer, more room for thought. But then you move on to the next video, and the fresh horrors do nothing to you. And that's when the gravity of emotional dissociation sinks in. You can't feel anything. You could cut a man's throat and it would feel the same as tying your shoe. You have tapped into something that feels ancient. It's like you've regressed into a lower evolutionary life form incapable of emotion. Below cavemen. Humans aren't meant to experience something like this. It's the cold, unthinking indifference of a creature which could eat its own young without blinking.
But you use it for good. You use it to function when you otherwise can't, and overcome the task at hand. And it helps you tremendously as a content moderator. Eventually, you get so good at it that you can turn your emotions off at will, and do it before you even view your first video of the day.
It does not help you once you're done. While the metaphorical emotion switch can be turned off at will, turning it back on is a chore. It usually takes a while to wear off. Maybe an hour or two once you're done. But the more you do it, the harder it is to break out of it.
Imagine going back to your normal life while you're stuck in that mindset. You try to watch TV or play video games and none of it brings you any joy — like the worst, most suffocating depression. Except it isn't depression, and you have the will, the energy, and the definite need for something to take your mind off what you've seen, but nothing changes that listless straightjacket your brain is stuck in. There should be dread and panic taking root, because the accompanying thoughts are there. Is this your new normal? Will you ever feel anything again? But there is neither dread nor panic, because your body won't allow you to feel them. Not even chemical alteration gets it back on track, and it's only after you've nursed away the hangover the next morning that you can kindle a tiny spark of emotion, again. And through the searing headache, you wonder if fighting the good fight is truly worth the possibility of being stuck without feelings forever.
All of this to say, repeated CSAM exposure is anthrax. It makes you sick in ways you didn't even know were possible, and if you survive it, the experience will follow you forever. You're also not going to talk about it in public. Even vague descriptions of it are enough to seriously traumatize those who encounter it. It feels like a public safety hazard to talk about. Trigger warnings are not enough. A proper description would warrant a fucking consent form. That's something your therapist has to coax out of you like you're a Vietnam vet with war trauma.
What you DON'T do is repost it. Even if it's to argue or express anger/disgust. You don't scroll the tags looking for it, either. No one in their right fucking mind treats actual CSAM the way antis treat "cp" and that's what infuriates me the most about them. They water down the term the same way kids water down "gaslighting."
Drawings of fictional characters are not CSAM. If you can describe it publicly, if you can repost or respond to it and use it for rage bait, then it isn't CSAM. The people who do this are, very obviously, not experiencing any of the trauma which is involved with viewing real CSAM. They are acting on disgust impulses, and then they have the audacity to imply that their discomfort is tantamount to experiencing some of the most traumatizing material a person can view.
It isn't CSAM. They know that it isn't CSAM. Every sane, socialized human adult knows that it isn't CSAM and I'm exhausted with acting like it isn't incredibly offensive to call it that.
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thychesters · 2 years
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Luffy is like staring into the sun.
At least, that is what Zoro thinks the first time he sees him. But then, his first coherent thought had been it’s too bright upon their initial meeting, looking up from glowering down at the ground to raising his head and squinting at a too big, self-congratulatory smile and do you want to join my crew?
Then it had been simple enough to blame the harsh sunlight blinding him, framing Luffy’s profile and that bright grin, and he’d bitten back the hell I will one minute and had a sword and an oath clenched between his teeth in the next.
And so Zoro follows the sun.
He follows and his skin reddens and blisters and peels; it splits at the seams and bleeds as he burns, and still he follows. It aches and cracks, and still he reaches out, twining his fingers through promises and a loyalty that will not bend.
Luffy curls a hand around his jaw and it’s a different sort of burning, flaring up into his eyes and down to his very marrow. And Luffy asks, where will you go? Nowhere, Zoro says as the words gather in his throat, raw and parched, and he chokes on them, anywhere.
His touch is a balm as fingertips skitter across his skin, soothing and pressing and digging and prying, and Zoro thinks he would burn again and again, blinded by the sheer brilliance of it all.
And then it’s dark out on the open sea, some nights, and then others too many stars dot the horizon, gathering up above them like they’re spilling out of the slit open belly of a giant, and Luffy tilts his head, blistering heat where he rests against his shoulder and looks at Zoro and says, I think I know where, and would you come with me?
And Zoro is a drowning man with a lungful of sea water, salt gathering with blood at the corners of his mouth and asks, of course, and where?
Luffy smiles and it’s a gathering of starlight and the sun, and it makes Zoro want to shove his fist into his mouth and shatter every one of his teeth, and Luffy would just laugh and bite down on his wrist and lay claim to his pulse point, like he doesn’t already live inside its every thrum.
No telling, he says. Will you still come with me?
And Zoro burns and it rages in the pit of his belly right into the raw skin of each scar, into his fingertips as they dig into Luffy’s scalp. How dare he have to ask, grin with the knowledge that he already knows the answer, and Zoro turns to follow the sun and says, yes, says I wouldn’t be anywhere else.
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