#WHERE IS THE WRATH

[tsuncda]

so am i right or am i right in my assertion that bridgerton doesn't actually do character work, it just rebrands it's main characters before their season begins and tries to recontextualize them as poor little meow meows.

[your-name-is-jim]

I think about this a lot.

[inthehouseoffinwe]

Finarfin Fades.

No one expects it, no one’s faded in Valinor since Miriel. The War of Wrath is won and he comes back, waving off the courtiers, well wishers, and congratulators with his usual grace, and walks into the palace of Tirion. To rooms abandoned since their owners left so long ago. Winding deeper and deeper his feet take him to what was once Finwë’s favourite garden.

He’s so tired.

He’s fulfilled his promise to Fëanaro and Nolofinwë, to avenge them. To make the agony of their final moments - agony Finarfin felt, falling to the floor screaming as fire and darkness consumed his spirit - count for something. Now Morgoth is finally gone, but he’s not the only one.

His brothers, larger than life, larger than death, are gone. With them his sons. Niece. Nephews. Grandchildren. His daughter is never to return. He Saw little Nelyo’s death in his dreams and is sure hopes for the child’s own sake that Makalaurë will be close behind.

Little remains. Even less on these golden shores.

So Finarfin sits on a bench long overgrown with vines and weeds, and watches the sun filter through the thicket, wishing the ghosts he sees in his father’s garden would flesh out.

He sits. He waits.

And by the time anyone finds him, it’s too late.

…at least he’s smiling again.

[lycheesodas]

eonwe vs sauron in the war of wrath ⚔️🌋

inspired by st michael slaying the devil (reference pic below)

commissions | shop | ig | twt

source: https://www.wga.hu/html_m/g/gerhard/michael.html

[blighted-elf]

Re-creating my favourite Wrath of the Righteous party in BG3

[mxwhore]

when sphinx Jon is baby crazy does he ever hump table legs or pillows and things

Martin WISHES he would just hump random furniture but he has to deal with this shit instead!!

[thatratgo]

Darean vs Astarion polls be like:

[lilislegacy]

i’m gonna be so honest. i’m scared to post any pjo headcanons or convos or analyses of any sort right now because of the chance of it getting canonically disputed in 3 days

i’m too utterly terrified of the “well this didn’t age well” comments 🫣😂

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: referenced mind control / parasites / intrusive thoughts (only in the tags) / ]

(This is just a fun “what if” so bear with me-) I know we make mention of the potential for Krang remnants to be stuck with Raph and/or Donnie, but Mikey and Leo also had a moment with the other two where a type of Krang goop was crawling beneath their skin (this being immediately after Raph broke free.)

So I raise you the potential for all four of them to have a bit of that Krang parasite on them…and for that to have unforeseen consequences.

[valtsv]

absolutely love telling people who are only starting to get into silt verses that episode titles creat a poem

and the poem fucks hard

[heavensincarnate1111]

WRATH OF THE TRIPLE GODDESS DROPS IN A MONTH IM SO PUMPEDDD

[sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes]

I hope the orange side has a super detailled extra show-offy villain outfit like Remus and Janus because I think it'd be cool (I personally think a punk outfit with a bunch of spikes could be awesome and fitting for a side that I think will represent anger) but also funny because like there's these three super glamorous dark sides and right next to them is this dude in a dark gray hoodie who is COMPLETELY dripless (Virgil)

[wrathofrats]

You are so real about more swiss angst

I think all the ghouls are so used to seeing Swiss as like this unmovable force. Nothing effects him and he’s always there for them, always ready to comfort or defend. It probably doesn’t help that he tries to suppress any negative emotion.

So the first time they need him hurt, emotional or physically it’s almost uncanny to them. Obviously they would help him they all care about him but seeing him like vulnerable scares them, they aren’t used to that. So for a moment they just don’t know what to do.

Oh I … yeah I went very very far with this one.

Warnings for suicidal ideation, mental illness, mentions of suicide methods and self harm methods. No descriptions, but it’s implied. Like Swiss doesn’t do anything it’s just mildly discussed. Hurt no comfort. Please if you’re sensitive to any of this then this fic isn’t for you <3

1.4k. Swiss has ideas he’s sure are a secret, mountain is desperate to help him.

—————————

Mountain is the first to recognize the pattern.

The ghouls are funny beings. Little is known about them, especially by the clergy. All knowledge mostly comes from old text books about religion that were purely guessing and any other research that the quintessentials and air ghouls could get done in their spare time while in the infirmary or the library.

Quirks about anatomy, behavior, how their different magics worked but there was a limit on knowledge beyond doing things that were cruel or unusual. So some questions were left unanswered.

Alpha and omega had been alive for longer than anyone knew possible. Hundreds of years in the pit that they barely remember combined with what they had topside and yet were more than likely not even close to being in the latest part of their lives, still thriving and able to work even as their hair grayed and their skin wrinkled on their topside forms. It was interesting to say the least. No known human methods being able to hurt ghouls, or at least in any lasting capacity that they knew of.

Mountain is smart, knows every ghoul like the back of his hand. Able to know what they’re thinking before they do most of the time.

Swiss had been distant. His dinner appearances were short and snipped, leaving food on his plate for dew and cirrus to fight over. It was always a word of just being tired and he would scarf down a sandwich later, even if mountain never noticed the amount of bread to go down by the next morning.

The bags under his eyes only deepend everytime mountain saw him. Dark purple like he only gets a couple hours of sleep every few days. Which in his defense wasn’t too abnormal, but usually he would crawl into bed with someone after a while to at least have some company as his thoughts raced. Mountain and cumulus always offered to stay up with him, even if he wasn’t going to sleep he didn’t need to be alone.

The other evidence was tricky, something mountain couldn’t exactly prove and when he tried to explain it to cumulus or rain both told him he was thinking too hard, looking for reasons to be so concerned so it was more justified, but there was a feeling he simply couldn’t shake.

He noticed lingering glances at things. The way Swiss looked a little too long for the tums when dew had asked him to grab him one, the way he seemed to stroke the leaves of the hemlock that grew in the greenhouse sometimes. Brushing his fingers over the leaves as if he was attempting to ingest it through touch alone even if he knew it was a stupid idea. Even Swiss’ razor had gone untouch for a while. His stubble grew, Swiss saying he just wanted to see how it looked even if mountain knew he hated the feeling of it being too grown out.

A part of mountain truly worried about exactly what he was up to. That one day he would walk in on a worst case scenario that even he couldn’t bring himself to bear thinking about.

To Swiss the ideation was a funny thing. Nothing he thought about was even promised to work. Not that he wanted it to. Or did he? Swiss didn’t know. In his mind he was half certain every method he had heard about on tv or the internet wouldn’t even work for a ghoul, so it was dumb to think about anyways even if the thoughts didn’t leave him. The itch to just …. Try,

Did he want this?

Does he know what he wants?

No. The answer to that was no, he was sure of that. Months of feelings he couldn’t quite place like his being was devoid of emotions at all, only feeling them adjacently when he thought he was expected to but, other than that? He doesn’t think he’s felt anything. It’s gross, like there’s a film on his skin that he can’t quite rid himself of no matter how hard he scrubs. A shadow, or fog that follows him, even if it sounds cheesy to him.

Sometimes he steals bottles he shouldn’t from the cabinet and places them on his bedside table, like he wants it to taunt him. He wouldn’t actually do it, he was pretty sure at least. Just enough to keep him on edge, enough to keep him cowardly.

Mountain is the first to say anything. Walking into his room one night while Swiss just holds them for the adrenaline rush.

He doesn’t panic. He can’t.

“Swiss” mountain breathes once he opens his door. Staring at the multi ghoul who looked like a child caught with a stolen chocolate bar.

“I wasn’t going to”

“I know, can you put it down?” Mountain takes a step towards him cautiously. It hurts, Swiss wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to. Right? He wasn’t. He swears. But the way mountain looks at him like he’s a wild animal or someone standing on the edge of a cliff is embarrassing. He’s fine, it’s not like that.

“I promise. I’d never”

Mountain creeps closer to him, still acting as if Swiss could be set off by a hair trigger.

“Swiss please, can I at least hold them for you?”

“Not like it would do anything. I’m a ghoul, sure I could down anything in that cabinet and I’d come out with a stomach ache and lecture from aether” Swiss mumbled to mostly himself. Mountain feels a pit in his stomach at the idea that Swiss had thought about this. Even if he already assumed that he did. He sits on the bed slowly, not trying to reach for the bottle yet.

“Just … please. For me. For now. Put them on the night stand, ok stardust?” Mountains tone was light as if he was talking to a child. Did he really not trust Swiss? He isn’t like that.

He wasn’t going to.

Right?

Whatever. Swiss slams the bottle onto his nightstand a little harder than necessary. He’s not a child. He can be trusted with .. whatever this bottle was. He didn’t care.

“Now what” Swiss asks, petulant. He hated acting like this. They know it’s not like him.

“What’s going on, you’ve been off for weeks”

“I haven’t been off. Maybe it’s just winter. I don’t know I’ll get over it” the sick feeling in Swiss’ stomach grows at the fact that mountains been watching him. He doesn’t need to be watched, he’s grown. Swiss is his own being and doesn’t need to be baby sat to make sure he’s getting all his nutrients like mountain is doing.

“I’m worried about you”

“Then waste your time worrying about something else. I’m not making you do it”

Mountain isn’t the angry type. Usually composed in any situation but there’s a different type of anxiety walking in on someone as important to him as Swiss holding a fucking bottle of pills acting like he’s fine. The jittery feeling in his nerves felt like it was trying to escape, tears pricking at his eyes.

“God fucking damn it Swiss” he started, choking on his own thoughts, “you’re not ok, why are you doing this? You promised you’d always go to someone if you needed anything”

“You can’t fucking save everyone mountain”

It’s gross. Childish and he knows it. The grime on his skin growing with every dumb insult and petulant impatient response he keeps firing like a cornered dog. Mountain can’t save him. He doesn’t need saving. He wasn’t going to do anything.

“Yeah but if I can’t save you than what am I supposed to do”

“What are you talking about? It’s not your job”

A dry sob racks mountain, even if he promised he would try not to do this. Not in front of Swiss.

“What am I supposed to do without you?”

“I wasn’t going to do it” Swiss tries again. He’s never seen mountain cry, at least not this hard. His voice stays eerily calm. He promises he cares. He does.

“The fact that it’s even an option is enough”

“It wouldn’t have worked. Even if I did it it wouldn’t have worked”

“I don’t care. I love you too much, I don’t care”

Mountain swiftly grabs the bottle, shoving it into his sweatshirt pocket to return to the cabinet downstairs. He returns to find Swiss rolled over to pretend to sleep, done with the conversion. He understands. He loves him and he understands. Mountain sleeps on the bare floor that night next to his bed. Just to be sure.

The next morning Swiss finds the cabinet empty. He feels embarrassed, ashamed of himself. There was no need.

He wasn’t going to do it. He swears. Right?

He wasn’t.

[herbalinz-of-yesteryear]

Orsis Academy Yearbook, Class of 39BBY.

Unwavering discipline, unmatched skills in combat. Maul is a student whose precision on the field and focus in the classrooms have set an example that inspires many. Already he is a force to be reckoned with. As he moves forward in years to come, we know he will conquer whatever challenges come they may and reach the end game. Keep the fire burning bright!

Colored a warm-up sketch from last week after a lukewarm vacation.

(I think Maul was probably a cute kid, despite the initial shock of his tattoos. Maybe partly why Talzin favors him. Also, Kilindi def immediately took an interest in the kid haha)

[sansevierias]

There was only one thing in the world that the Count never doubted, ridiculed, or belittled, either in conversation or in private, and that was his love for the Commander. That love came to be an integral part of his being. If the Count was a ship, that love was the ocean upon which he sailed – liberating, lifegiving, essential.

[spinach-pine]

This one scene in The Wrath of Khan

Jim: Oh, by the way, thank you for this

Spock: I know of your fondness for antiques

Jim: It was the best of times; it was the worst of times...

Jim: Message, Spock?

Spock: None that I am conscious of... except of course, happy birthday