#fucking survivors guilt.

[lesbiantrish]

im so normal about thalia and jasons relationship (no im not)

[hoshizoralone]

reflection

[kaizsche]

baby's first tornado after 5 years ofc she'll be nervous :(( TWISTERS (2024)

[crimescrimson]

All Bosses & Mini-Bosses in The Evil Within 2 (2017) As Of First Appearence: The Harbinger | The Keeper | Laura Victoriano | The Effigy | The Matriarch

[reluctantbylerblog]

call me crazy and controversial but I don't think nancy did anything wrong, nor is she fundamentally a bad person for what happened to barb in s1, and I absolutely do not think she needs to be redeemed. the end of her character arc should always be about reaching a point of self-compassion and forgiveness—specifically by healing enough to allow herself to move past her guilt and belief that she caused barbs death by letting herself become close to others and form intimate friendships. especially with robin (who imo she was cagey with in s4 because of her trauma around barb)

[thebookworm0001]

as much as I go on about solas being right the other part of that conversation is always that solas is a whole-ass idiot who needs to listen to his friends and let them help him

[mochiajclayne]

I've been avoiding episode 1115 for an entire month after it was released and despite reading in the manga about what will transpire, I'm still brokenhearted because the guilt of not being able to protect his ship and crew will flood more questions for Law because surviving yet again has got to be a sick joke from some sort of higher power at a certain point. Is it because he's a D that there's a mysterious force compelling him to survive no matter what? Why him, specifically? If an incurable disease and a limited lifespan was not enough to kill him, if his fate was so checkered to the point that he had to bear witness losing his family, his savior, his home, and his nakamas, what's the point of being alive? He has too much love to give and I won't be surprised if he was already introspecting on the idea that he's like a curse bringing the inevitable to his loved ones because his love was doomed to be tragic and unfortunate.

[ambrosiagourmet]

There was a post I reblogged a while back that was like… a good way to tell if someone gets Laios as a character is by whether they agree with the Lion’s opinion of him.

I feel like we need something like that for Kabru >.>

[mingot-studios]

Hey, remember that time a youtuber called Homura, [a lonely, near suicidal child who got unhealthily attached to the one person who ever showed her a modicum of kindness] a sociopath because instead of wishing Madoka back to life, she wished she could go back in time to protect and save her because she felt her friend's death was her fault because she thought she was too weak? (which is a very obvious symptom of survivors guilt)

Because I sure as hell didn't

[mayasaura]

I am never going to forgive Cristabel for what she did to Mercymorn. Inflicted on her the same "cruellest thing anyone has ever done to you" that Gideon did on Harrow, but without the same pressures. No one was banging down the door threatening to kill them both. She didn't have to choose between watching Mercy die and dying for her. When Cristabel violently manipulated Mercy into lyctorhood, she did it with fore-thought. She planned it. Fuck her.

[stuckinapril]

.

[agent-jaselin]

Why does every meta on Solas seem to misinterpret his motivations as remembering the empire as wonderful and wanting to bring that back? One even blamed him for not realizing that the empire’s fall to humans or something else was inevitable ?

He knows that, he tells Dorian that in the same party conversation where he tells Dorian that the elven empire fell before the humans even got there!

Like yeah I’m sure Elves being able to self govern themselves is a goal but it’s not the biggest one.

Because people seem to forget that the Veil was just slapped up there and is not supposed to be there. It’s a poorly made dam causing an ecological disaster. He wants it down for spirits sanity, for elves and others conscious connection to the fade, and the one thing these meta get right: elves immortality.

He does miss the beauty of his world from before, and the things people could achieve, he wants to see them do that again. But i don’t think it’s connected to the actual empire so much as it is to the nature of the world when it wasn’t barren.

[nuansea]

Survivor guilt. That’s what we also have to deal with here in Ukraine.

[outism-had-a-purpose]

If Ishmael gets to kill the 'bastard' in her canto and finally gets the catharsis she needs, wouldn't it be kinda symbolic if she cuts off her hair to symbolize her letting go of the weight of avenging/looking for her crew.

Honestly I'm just writing this because I want to see Ryoshu pulling out her odachi and going "BBG, IGY" when Ishmael throws the idea of cutting her hair around after canto v

[little-bloodied-angel]

As someone who's permanently physically disabled as a result of an abusive relationship some of y'all's takes on Izzy are fucking UNHINGED. Like "I hope you never go near an abuse survivor, EVER, in your life" levels of revolting. I shouldn't be struggling for breath with a panic attack after trying to scroll through a blog for pictures but here we are.

Nobody, nobody, can ever deserve being physically mutilated by someone they trusted. Nope, not the assholes either. And nobody can do that to someone else and claim it was their fault for being an asshole. And nobody can traumatize MULTIPLE PEOPLE and point to that other person as the source of the problem. What the FUCK are you talking about.

(ok to rb but if you start arguing that "well, actually" I'll block you)

[autisticlancemcclain]

She doesn’t hear him come in. She doesn’t hear a knock at the door, or his footsteps on her ornate Fluxian rugs, although that’s not too unusual. Lance is silent when he walks. But she doesn’t hear him until she hears the rustle of her bed canopy, feels her giant duvet being pulled over her head.

She supposes she should be startled by her friend’s sudden appearance in her room. Perhaps angry — she has insisted that he knock more times than she can count, and he never listens.

Instead she bursts into tears.

“Oh, Allura,” he murmurs, crawling on top of the bed immediately and placing an arm around her. He squeezes tightly, rocking her back and forth as he moves. “It wasn’t your fault.”

She doesn’t bother answering. She only sobs harder, muscles tense, refusing to take any comfort in his hold. She does not deserve comfort. Not when her failure came at a cost so deep.

“Millions dead,” she whispers, hiccuping around the word. “Millions.”

Lance stays silent. He offers no further platitudes, doesn’t bother to argue or try and change her mind. He’s already said his piece. Instead he simply squeezes once, then pulls away slightly. For a moment Allura is disappointed, then angry with herself for feeling that disappointment at all, but before she can follow that train of thought there’s a gentle pull of her hair and she realizes he’s gotten a brush.

He says nothing as he combs through her hair. He doesn’t ask her to move, doesn’t try to stop her tears. He simply lets her cry, knees tucked under her chin, and silently runs a brush through her hair. Whenever he reaches a tangle — and there are many, she’s been sitting blankly with her bedcovers over her head for stars know how long — he simply sets the brush down and begins to work it through carefully with his fingers. He never tugs on the hair, and it never hurts. It’s only soft, soothing strokes until her cries fade into sniffles.

“It’s not your fault,” he repeats when the tears have started to dry on her cheeks. His voice is firm, unarguable.

“We were minutes too late. The wormhole — I’ve moved us faster. I didn’t use enough urgency.”

His cool fingers brush the side of her neck as he gathers her newly brushed hair and she shivers. He sections off a piece of it, pinning the rest out of the way. She hears him weave some of the long, kinky strands together in a braid.

“How do you know that they weren’t waiting for us?” he asks quietly. “All information we had pointed to a small fleet; dangerous but not deadly. There was no reason for us to suspect that a Zaiforge canon was in the mix, because none of their communications said there would be.” He unpins another section of hair and gets to work. “The plan was to ambush us, ‘Llura. They used the planet as collateral.”

Deep down, she knows this to be true. She watched Zarkon and his forces do this countless times before she lost her own people to his tyranny.

But the guilt still lingers.

Seconds.

She was seconds too late to stop him, and for her error an entire planet was eradicated.

“Do you think they saw it coming?” she asks in a small voice.

Do you think they died afraid? is what she really means.

Lance says nothing for a long moment. His hands still, and his breathing quickens slightly.

Her heart sinks. He knows the answer just as she does, and he will not lie to her.

“There’s this song, on Earth,” he says, returning to her braids. “Our planet is broken into hundreds of nations, and they’re always in conflict with each other. Some moreso than others. One of the conflicts involves deadly nuclear weapons. If one country decides to fire, the rest will as well. Our entire planet is at constant risk of annihilation because our governors care more about their stupid pride than life.” His voice shakes by the end of his sentence, fury lining his voice. She is completely still, hanging onto every word, confused at the subject change but intrigued despite her horror. “Most of us who are aware of the issue live with a constant terror, even if it’s only in the back of our minds, that at any moment our planet could blow the hell up and there’s not a single thing we can do to survive it.”

She glances over her shoulder, no longer able to listen quietly. He avoids her gaze, brown eyes trained intently on his task. “That’s horrifying. All of you just…live like that?”

He shrugs. “Very little we can do to stop it.”

She starts to see the connection he’s making, the line between her heavy guilt and his planet’s fear.

She swallows. “…You can live with the fear?”

“There’s a song,” he repeats. He hums a slow, sad beginning. “‘We creep up on extinction, I pull your arms right in; I weep and say ‘goodnight, love’, as my organs pack it in…’”

He sings the song for her softly, following the final moments of a young couple, quietly dressing each other for their own funerals, dancing as their planet burns to the ground.

“There’s a peace to acceptance,” he says as his hums come to an end. He ties up her last braid and tugs her around to face him. He meets her eyes, finally, and reaches over to grab her hands, squeezing gently. “They were with their people and loved ones, as they died. They were afraid but they will be avenged. It’s not your fault, Allura.”

A tear drops down her cheek, dropping onto their joined hands. She watches it splatter, and finally lets herself believe that her friend is right, that he wouldn’t lie to her, that maybe — just maybe — she’s not at fault for this tragedy.

And maybe Altea wasn’t her fault, either.

“Okay,” she whispers.

He smiles, squeezing her hands one more time before pulling her out of bed and towards the door. “Good. Now, come on. Hunk made some food, we’re all waiting for you.”