#that sounds like such a peaceful existence

[thoughtaddictand]

Pro-Palestinians are at fault for the rise of the far right in Europe

Pro-Palestinians, in particular the protests on their behalf, are at fault for the strong turnout for the right-wing populist parties in the European Parliament elections. They have put the obnoxiousness of muslim immigrants and far leftists on full display.

The average person here in Europe, who form the silent majority, doesn't give two shits about the Palitards. They support Israel, if not every single of its policies, at least its existence. They also realize that Palitards are a violent, non-peaceful people, against whom you HAVE to do something. Otherwise they'll harm good Israelis.

Now imagine being confronted with pro-Palestinian stupidity day after day: Them doing things like blocking highways, harassing Jewish worshippers and Jewish exhibitions, highjacking holidays and other festivities (like pride), and just TRYING to flaunt their obnoxiousness everywhere. You'd be justifiably pissed off, right?

Now imagine there's the "European People's Party Group", which is far-right, which is anti-leftism by nature, and also anti-Islam. It must sound so appealing to people sick of hearing about Palestine, don't you think?

[yrqrnc]

; shall we look at the moon, my little loon?

who would’ve known — existing under the stars with hwang hyunjin would, one day, become your favorite memory? perhaps, to love and be loved was never a myth, after all.

The sound of your laugh is light in the air; it flows with the wind and flutters up to the moon up above. Hyunjin is sure she loves it too, as he gazes at you with city-lights sparkling in his eyes, the same way you were gazing at the stars and their slow dance above, and he smiles.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever smile at anyone else the way he does at you and because of you.

And he thinks, perhaps taking you away from the loud crowd and city life, to here, this dreamscape that only the two of you know, was the best idea he’s ever had.

Life had been heavy, lately, for the both of you. You had your responsibilities to handle, your job, your bills, the budget, people around you whom you loved. You had your own struggles that weighed down on you, and if he’s sky-clear honest, he’s always admired how you manage to find your inner strength and hold onto it until it gets better again.

For him, you are that strength.

He’d never even realized it.

Falling in love with you had never felt like falling at all. It had felt like walking into a place that he was never really looking for, but then suddenly, realizing it had everything he had ever wished for. It felt like finding purpose; he found home, solace, strength, inspiration, all forms of art, and every sphere of love where he found you.

He would never tell you that, but as he watches you sway along without a care in the world to the soft tunes that blast out from the speaker he had brought to make the date better, he just really, really hopes with his entire being — that you have a fraction of idea of how loved you are, not only—though especially—by him, but numerous others as well.

You look so at peace in this moment. Your eyes are fixed onto the constellations above as you try to name each one of them, and your head tilts in the slightest as you struggle to remember the title of that particular cluster of stars.

And to him, you look just like a dream. His dream.

Their existence alone is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, whispers his heart, even as his head goes silent.

Suddenly, the playlist gets shuffled, and one of your favorite songs starts playing. And he thanks the universe for it, because he adores how your eyes shift from the stars to the speaker just slightly, and the way they light up with familiarity, and how, after that, for a quick moment, you just close your eyes shut from any kind of distraction, and let the beats and lyrics that you know by heart flow into your body as you stand under the freckled twilight sky.

And all along, he simply watches you exist, and with every second that slips away like that, he sinks deeper in love with you.

Down, down, and down,

but it feels like floating.

He could look at you a thousand times, from a thousand different lights, in thousand different places and under thousand different circumstances, and he knows he’d still love you either way, just the same – if not more – but never less.

Your eyes glisten with a playful fire as you turn your head over to glance at him, then, before he can process it, you grab his hands to pull him up and close for a dance. The fond look is never erased from his face.

If the stars above you could dance infinitely, so in love and so in peace, unbothered of taking any face of grace or perfection, why couldn’t you?

So, you dance. One hand of yours lays on his shoulder, slipping down to his chest sneakily, and the other holds on to one of his, as he grabs onto your waist with the gentlest of touches. You might have been the one that pulled him up, but he leads you with the steps.

You follow his footsteps mindlessly; your eyes trail over his face as you drink in every mole on his face and every scratch, and every faded crease. How his eyes shine an earthy brown in the nature, and how they crinkle into the prettiest crescent moon as he smiles.

You steal away some very few stars from the sparks above your existence, hide them in your heart and hold them closely, and secretly wish on them that you’ll forever be the only one who’ll ever get to see these details, and his face and him up so close.

Mindlessness, however, leads to silly mistakes, and it pushes you to step on his feet accidentally, not once but twice, too, almost tripping both of you clumsily. His laugh rings out into the open night sky and echoes out into the trees, and you follow, punching his chest with every intention of doing it when he teases you about how you need to step up on your dancing skills instead of him.

“Come on, love, we have an audience. Bring out the grace now. Dance with me. See, one step here, here, there and then…”

The audience he refers to, gaze down at the two young lovers in time in form of the universe and its children.

The moon smiles down softly, reminiscing of her own old times where she could float in the same sky as the sun, and the stars giggle and bicker and tease and whisper about you, and it’s all perfect.

This is what bliss looks like, this is how it feels. It is not the absence of sadness; it is the presence of love, and hope, and contentment, and peace, and joy, and you.

The wind is sweet, and your laugh is lovely to his ears, and he loves how you keep stepping on his toes every now and then, still, and now, as he holds your face in his hands, gently tucking your hair away from your face, and kisses you with soft lips and an even softer heart for you —

Hyunjin prays that this moment lasts an eternity, and that he gets to forever exist in time with you like this.

[kazanoic]

Alrighty then, if your asking for WuWa requests, then how about Scar x reader where they play a game of cards on a day off. Nothing too special. Just bonding time between them.

Though I do like to think that maybe Scar has a habit of making bad jokes.

EPHEMERALITY. scar / gn.reader

-> finding comfort in fleeting moments.

a/n: this is my first fanfic, so i pray it’s not too ooc. i also do not know how to play card games, so there will! be! obvious! mistakes! anywho, i do hope you enjoy.

People dream of things that they don't have-- the poor wish to be the rich and the rich wish for more; an inescapable curse that will only get stronger with time. You are no exception. From the moment you were born, you've lived with the noise. And so you wish for peace, for solitude, for isolation; to be one with the mundane and call that home so much so that when the Fractsidus offers you a proposal, you accept graciously. But inertia was still miles away-- to be able to get the peace you so desperately wished for, the Fractsidus had to accelerate the Next Lament, and to be able to accelerate the next Lament required a dedication that does not allow one to slack. Therefore, you spent your entirety to the Fractsidus; blind to everything around you but the next Lament. You concluded that the empty pit that resounds in your gut can only be quelled by nothing but silence.

“Hey! Play a game with me, will you?” An all too familiar sound echoes.

“Sweetheart, you do know that using cards as a weapon and actually being able to play is two very different things, don’t you?” You smile at his unrelenting persistence.

Just before Scar could respond, footsteps reverberated into the room, heels clicking rhythmically as the figure entered the dim lighted room.

“Phrolova, Scar and I were just about to play another game, care to be the referee?”

“Hm,” she considered before nodding slowly, “alright. Will any betting be involved?”

“‘Course there will! I mean, what are vampires playing for?” Scar grins from ear to ear before his great punchline, “high stakes,” he laughs to himself before realizing that no one is laughing with him.

“No? Okay. Man, you guys really can’t appreciate a good joke,” he sighs before turning his head towards you, “100 thousand credits?”

“Fine by me.”

“100 thousand shell credits it is. Let’s begin.”

— x —

Times like this was enough for you to momentarily forget the treacherous waters you existed in, letting you breathe properly for just a little while. Times like this made your resolve flatter because the pit in your stomach felt full even for just a little while. You hold onto these ever-so fleeting moments, clinging on to it knowing that it will pass; just like how everything seems to do.

You decide to make the most out of it.

“Full house.”

“Four of a kind!” Scar opens his cards, laughing gleefully with so much pride one would think he became the emperor. He points at you smugly, making comments on how he is as good at playing cards as he is at using them as a weapon— tossing around commentary as a poor, feeble attempt in riling you up so his ego would reach the stars and above.

“…do you know what the kangaroo said to the leopard? Are you a cheetah?” You tried to crack a joke, attempting to end the game with a bang.

Scar laughed almost immediately, you swear you could see tears welling up in his eyes. “What the hell is that? Was that your attempt at a joke?? And! I won fair and square, mind you! So don’t be resentful now. Pay up,” Scar responds.

“Aye aye boss.”

— x —

In the dead of the night, you and Phralova stood outside allowing the chilly air to fill your lungs.

“You let him win.”

“Did I?”

“You did. Why?”

“I don’t know, I just wanted to let him have it.”

“I guess I should thank you as well. It really isn’t fun to hear him whine incessantly.”

all rights reserved © kazanoic // do not copy, translate, repost.

[ellekhen]

Hand, Hearth, and Home

Chapter 56 - Of Waterdeep

Chapter Summary: On the eve of Halsin's attempt to save Thaniel, Church still finds himself disturbed by his own encroaching darkness. He seeks out a friend also haunted by a similar sort of imminent doom, and together they commiserate and contemplate their respective supposed fates.

Pairing(s): Astarion x Male Tav (Main); Past OC x Male Tav Rating: Explicit Length: 292K+ words; Chapters 56/?? (Master Post)

Excerpt below:

“Over here!” a voice calls softly.

Gale has seated himself upon the grass, a blanket spread neatly beneath him and what appears to be the remnants of ritual components. His hands conduct the illusion like an orchestra as they dance soundlessly overhead.

“I was looking for you,” Church mutters wryly, seating himself carefully upon the blanket. Gale’s face is notably serene, rather than the troubled expression that furrowed his brow days earlier. “You’ve been here the whole time?”

“Not quite,” Gale murmurs as he carefully arranges a constellation of stars above them. “I walked around a fair bit. Talked to some of our allies — Halsin, mainly. Took care of a few things. Prepared a few… missives,” he hesitates. “There was one thing left to do, and it was to apologize to you.”

Church huffs a laugh. “I’m not one for grand gestures, but this… this is a nice change,” he admits, scanning the sky. “As far as an apology goes… I’m not sure it’s merited. Not on your part, at any rate.”

Gale shakes his head, flicking away a few stars. “There I was, spouting on about some noble sacrifice I had to make, when I had been berating you for the very same thing.”

“It’s not the same,” Church admits. “You were tasked by a goddess to do something that will save the world. I’ve got a couple of mad fey luring me into another deal for my own selfish reasons.”

Gale frowns. “Wanting to continue one’s existence isn’t selfish.”

Church shoots him a wry glance. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say to you, isn’t it?”

Gale chuckles, casting his eyes back up. 

“So you’ve already spoken with Halsin, then?” Church inquires. “I was going to ask you to help. His diagrams were a bit confusing…”

“I have prepared the relevant components and charts for the Harpers,” Gale assures him absently. “It is too soon to prepare such rituals for them to remain potent for Halsin’s endeavor. We have… some time.”

“And you’ve made use of it,” Church follows his eyes back up to the starry sky. “I should’ve known this was your doing. It’s beautiful.”

“Indeed. The curse is still present of course — just veiled and at arm’s length for now. Not a trick I can repeat often, but tonight?” Gale’s voice falters. “Tonight is different.”

He exhales wistfully. “I love this time of night. There’s an almost reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you’d almost believe the dawn will never break.” 

He gestures a hand grandly across the view. “The timelessness of lovers. The most beautiful of fantasies.”

Church eyes him with concern.

“You’re sounding particularly philosophical,” he remarks cautiously. “Are you alright?”

Gale huffs a cheerless laugh.

“I will be, soon,” he nods grimly to himself. “I am perhaps just one hard day away from being without any troubles at all. Any night might be my last alive. If it is this one, then… I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder… and with company to match,” he adds with a smile, nudging Church playfully.

But his smile falters as the tiefling continues to scrutinize him. 

“I thought this place might bring me peace. I thought it might make the weight of what I must do feel a little lighter…” Gale looks down, face falling. “...but I am not so sure.”

Finally, Church lets out a harsh sigh. “Fuck it. You know I wasn’t going to drop it — is this truly what you want? To die for the promise of Mystra’s forgiveness?”

Gale smiles bitterly. “Babe or crone, coward or hero, death is assured. Mystra’s forgiveness is not. If you knew the end was near, would you not want to ensure it had meaning?”

He glances back up at him, troubled. “I am… terrified,” he admits. “I will not claim otherwise. My face could scarcely conceal it even if my words sought to deny it.” 

“This isn’t the end,” Church insists fervently. “Not yet. We still have some time. We still have questions that need answers. We…”

“Church… thank you. But even if we do find another way, perhaps this is the right way. The end fate wishes for me.” Gale nods to himself. “There is no point running from the inevitable. Better to meet it, on my own terms.”

“Nothing is inevitable,” Church retorts fiercely. “Not when we face it together. I don’t have to die. And you don’t have to die.”

“Yes,” Gale chuckles. “But there is so much to live for, and so few moments in which to house it all.”

Church takes his hand. “But there are moments,” he says fervently. 

Gale chuckles. “Believe me, one moment in your company has often been enough to prise the fear from my heart. And I…” he hesitates. “I have missed your company, my friend. These past couple days. And I’m so very glad you came here to share this with me.”

He gestures vaguely up at the sky. 

“I know that this is unreal, but I created it for you.” He looks shyly over at Church. “You must know that you’re… you’re very special to me.”

The wizard feels warm nestled against Church’s side, seated in this protected corner of the cursed land. Church’s heart throbs with fondness, but also some trepidation. Where is he going with this?

“The point is…” Gale looks up into the sky. “…time is short. Every day, every moment is uncertain.”

“I thought we’d have more time,” Church whispers in agreement. 

They sit in companionable silence for a long moment longer, watching the aurora the wizard had conjured ripple shimmer across the sky in wide, iridescent stripes. 

“I… want to show you something,” Gale says. “If this were to be the last night of my life, I think I’d like to share in the Weave with you. Take you somewhere that isn’t the Shadowlands.”

He smiles at the tiefling. “Any ideas for sunnier locales?”

Church thinks to himself for a long moment. And then he huffs a laugh. “At risk of you calling me uncreative… why not take us back to Waterdeep?” he suggests with a smile. “I never appreciated it enough when I was there. It was never a home for me… but I’d like to know what it was to you.”

Gale beams at him. “On the contrary, I think that would be rather apt.”

He reaches his hand forward — parting the Weave like a curtain to reveal a luminous scene before them. Eventually the light focuses to reveal a charmingly-cluttered room with accents of dark wood and heavy green curtains. The walls are full of books, and the edges of the rug-strewn ground are lined with piles of even more books. 

“This is the center of my universe,” he says, pushing himself up to stand. “The sculptures, the paintings, the walls enlivened by the spines of a thousand books..."

Church takes his hand as the wizard helps him to his feet, continuing to gesture around them grandly.

“...the grand piano plays the Lliirian Suites all by itself, and as we look out beyond the arches that lead to the terrace…” Gale beckons Church forth as the double doors open to a sunlit terrace, “…we see the weary sun take its daily dive into the sea.”

Church follows him out, shading his eyes from the golden glow. 

“That’s nice,” Church says, voice breaking as he takes in the warmth of the sunset. “It’s only been a couple weeks, hasn’t it? But it feels like we’ve spent months here in the Shadowlands already.”

He settles himself heavily down upon a wooden settee with red cushions, sighing. Gale smiles down at him. 

“My favorite spot,” he remarks idly. “Many times, evening turned to night and back to daybreak once more while I sat here, lost in words.”

“Sounds like you,” Church smiles back at him. “Up all night reading? I do love that rebellious streak of yours.”

“Oh, allow me to live dangerously while I still can,” Gale smirks.

The wizard settles beside him as Church gazes over the panorama of the terrace’s view. He inhales the sea air deeply. 

“I think you’re remembering the harbor on a good day,” he comments wryly. “It’s missing the fish and smoke.”

“A memory isn’t perfect by nature,” Gale murmurs. “But sometimes the imperfection is what makes a moment beautiful. It’s the essence of the memory that matters. It comforts us, it…”

He traces his finger along the arm of the settee as his voice catches. “It’s home. I…” 

Gale turns to look at Church with wet eyes. “This was… an excellent choice,” he says, straining to keep his voice steady. “If something were to happen, I should like to see home again. Even if it’s not real. Even if…”

Church pulls him into a hug, holding him close as the wizard struggles to stifle a sob.

“No, damn it, I refuse to be a blubbering mess,” Gale chuckles wetly, though he returns his friend’s embrace. “This isn’t quite what I imagined when I wove this for you.”

“What did you imagine?” Church grins as the wizard begins to pull away from him.

And then he realizes then that Gale’s shining eyes are soft and awed, as if he is the view, and not the harbor behind them.

“Gale…?” the tiefling whispers as the man leans back in towards him…

…Gale’s lips are tentative and admittedly a little clumsy as they press upon Church’s. The wizard’s stubble tingles where it brushes against his skin, his hand warm as it comes to rest against his cheek. The tiefling freezes there, scarcely able to comprehend the moment as it passes like one of the harbor’s ships in the wind. 

Still, Church kicks himself for how long it takes for him to get ahold of himself and push his friend gently away, an apology in his eyes. 

Gale draws back at once, lowering his hand hastily. 

“I’m…” the wizard looks flustered in his own fantasy, pulling away completely. 

Church smiles sadly at him. “Look, it’s alright. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. That was impulsive of me. If things were different…” Gale swallows, looking down to the floor as he fidgets with his hands. “If we had both met back then in Waterdeep, I would have taken the time to do things properly. To say it all better.”

His mouth twists. “…perhaps be more charming. More forward.”

“Gale…” Church sighs. 

“I’m sorry,” Gale chuckles ruefully. “I didn’t intend to bring you here to subject you to my regrets, nor did I intend to make a complete ass of myself.”

“You’re not an ass,” Church protests easily.

Gale shrugs sheepishly. “I lived the life of a hermit for some time before I met you — these sort of rituals aren’t quite in my grimoire, to say the least.

“I know I missed my chance,” he admits with a sigh. “I thought, for a time, that what you had with our companion was merely a…” he blushes, “…physical… distraction. But I should have seen it plain upon your journal's pages as much as in your eyes.” 

He looks up at Church with a tight smile. “Your heart is with Astarion.”

Church has no desire to deny it. Not anymore. 

“It is,” he says softly, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself. 

Gale looks away from him. “He’s lucky to have you. It’s clear you have been helping him keep the metaphorical darkness at bay. I only hope he does the same for you.”

Church follows his gaze out into the harbor. “He makes me want to fight for the future,” he murmurs. “A future where he’s safe. A future full of sunnier days by his side, where he doesn’t need to be afraid.” He sighs. “Where neither of us have to be afraid.”

“A noble pursuit,” Gale says evenly, smiling stiffly past his quiet, embarrassed devastation. 

“Gale…” Church squeezes the man’s hand briefly. “I don’t think loving someone as a friend is worth less than being in love with someone. I don’t think I’ve had a friend like you in quite some time, and now that I have that… that’s also something worth fighting and living for. 

“And tonight’s not the last night,” he adds firmly. “You’ll live to come back to Waterdeep — for real. And I’ll…” He hesitates. “I want to visit you,” he says earnestly. “You’d be the closest thing I’d have to home there. So please… don’t write yourself off.

“I know it’s not what you hoped for, but this?” He holds up Gale’s hand and shakes it, squeezing tight as he smiles wanly at his friend. “I’d still fight for this. I’m not going to let my friend die if there’s another way.”

Gale huffs a laugh. “Do you… really think there is another way?”

“There has to be,” Church insists. “I’ve let the gods take a lot of things from me, but you’re someone I won’t let go so easily.”

“Nor are you,” Gale smiles softly at him. “Not if I have any say in the matter.”

He gazes out once more over the harbor of Waterdeep, sighing gently. “But I suppose we all must return to reality…”

He snaps his fingers, and in an instant they are back in the clearing, the aurora flowing serenely overhead.

“...one way or another,” Gale mutters wryly.

Church feels his heart sink a little, already missing the warmth of the sunset — illusion or not. Still, he nudges his friend. “It’s not so bad,” he murmurs. “After all, you’re still here.”

Gale huffs a tired laugh. “Damn you,” he says without much heat. His lips can’t seem to help but smile. “Damn you for giving me so much to care about. Our friends, our adventures… this would have been so much easier if it was just me. But it isn’t.”

His thumb brushes over Church’s hand again. 

“If there is a way — any way — to save all that’s grown dear to me… I want to seize it.” He then grimaces. “I just cannot fathom what that might be, other than to fail Mystra and condemn the world.”

“Let’s take it step by step,” Church tells him. “First, we save Thaniel and lift the Shadow Curse. Then, we take Ketheric’s artifact away from him and destroy it. After that, we attack Moonrise Towers, destroying Ketheric for good. And then…”

He hesitates.

“...then, we’ll have a better idea what the true heart of the Absolute is,” Gale finishes for him. “We can strategize again along the way. Adapt. And maybe by then we’ll have found something that isn’t… me.” He sighs. “I have to hope.”

Church squeezes his hand, smiling. “And I’ll hope with you.”

Gale leans against him, staring up at the stars.

“Stay with me, will you?” he asks shakily. “I… I don’t want to think of it anymore. But I don’t want to be alone either." 

“Of course,” Church murmurs, draping his cloak across his friend’s shoulders as well. “For as long as you need.”

Start from the beginning!

[xxxvomitboyxxx]

I need to stop being automatically trusting and also stop assuming people will be always good. Sometimes people are bad 👍🏼 !

[inkskinned]

he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.

except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?

at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.

except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.

about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.

he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.

[sadkachow]

And Then It Is Monday - Why Sunday's plan did not (and could not) work

So normally I don't really make longer analysis posts, but I kept seeing people on social media outright supporting Sunday's actions in 2.2, and I wrote something out about why I personally think that Sunday's plan is wrong. I don't know if this is an issue with tumblr as well, given that the people I saw supporting him were on different forms of social media, but regardless.

Before I begin, I'd like to pose a reminder that the opinions in this are mine and mine alone. If you agree, awesome! If not, I'd love to hear your thoughts on it, so long as you're respectful! I have no idea if this is well written or will make any logical sense, but here we go!

(Spoilers for the 2.2 Trailblazer quest under the cut, if that wasn't already obvious)

So the first thing to get off the table: I feel Sunday is a very sympathetic villain, but a villain nonetheless. I understand the people that sympathize with him. I do too, to an extent. He was raised on unhealthy ideals and the belief that he was a "religious figure," one that people looked up to. Other people were allowed to just be, but Sunday always had to be better. He loved his sister, and the people around him, and he wanted to make a better world for them.

But that does not excuse what he did. Making a 'better world' can never come at the cost of taking away people's free will, because that world will never be "better". That's where Sunday's plan falls apart.

Because, yes, there are shitty people in the world, and yes bad things happen. Would it be amazing if we could stop all the bad things from happening ever again, and make the world a much better place? Yes! It would! I would love to live in a world where I don't have to fear for my life and my freedom for an assortment of reasons! But that world doesn't exist--in real life or on Penacony--, and getting it to exist shouldn't be the result of subjugating and controlling other people, because that in and of itself is violence. Albeit a different kind of violence, but violence nonetheless.

Not to mention that things like Sunday's plan and the concept of forcing everyone to act a certain way just to fit this "better world" to me almost serves as a condemnation of human nature and of the very act of choice itself. Your better world starts by saying that some choices are bad, so those choices get taken away, but where does it end? What if someone in charge views a harmless choice as a bad one, and takes away that one in return? Does it stop there, or does it continue, until no one at all is allowed to make any decisions, except those in charge? Who, really, does that benefit?

Consequences for certain choices exist. Generally, society says murder is bad (except for specific circumstances such as self-defense, which technically at that point is no longer even considered murder (at least where I live, it may be different in other areas, but I'm basing this off of my own experience)), so there is a concrete consequence to people murdering people--assuming that they don't get away with it. It doesn't stop people from murdering people, because the liberty of choice is still there, but it shows that just because you can do something doesn't mean you should or that you will escape without consequence.

People are going to do bad things. That is, unfortunately, how humans are. But our responsibility lies in holding ourselves accountable and in promoting growth and healing. That is how you build a better world. Not trapping everyone inside a dream world without any care for their feelings or beliefs, but in getting people the help they need, in fostering a society of positive change and human connection.

And that is why, as "golden" as Sunday's dream may have seemed, it was never going to work. In the end, as the story quest shows, human will and the desire for freedom wins out in the end. When there's a will, there's a way.

[cherrysnax]

havin the weirdest crisis of my life

[pollard-zero]

there is just smth poetic abt seven leaving lovestruck (a band whose logo involves a heart in their very name, whose music style is pop punk and revolves entirely around being in love) to go form soft violence (a band whose logo involves a heart clutched in a fist, whose music style is punk rock and involves a lot of heartbreak in the lyrics)

[doolallymagpie]

role-reversed version of That Page in caliban’s war where it’s bobbie’s “lizard brain” going apeshit over holden but it just sounds like your average tumblr bisexual talking about blorbo from her shows

[iiboronii]

Who wants to go stare at the moon with me?!??!?!?!

[1o1percentmilk]

i love looking at people's aesthetic tags because theres usually some sort of theme going on

[gazelessmenagerie]

( I like to imagine Broly's eyes are sensitive to harsh light so it'd be a pretty good idea to shine something bright in his eyes especially at night if one is trying to get away from him. It'll leave him temporarily blind until his eyes adjust to the darkness and strong perfumes/scents are another way to get him off for a moment due to how strong his sense of smell is. )

[fluxweeed]

yes I agree that you’re implicitly required to rec a fic you’re involved in which is why it HURTS WHEN PEOPLE DONT like oof. you said yes to work on it but then you didn’t like it that much hey. obviously I’d rather that than people rec something they don’t actually like, I’m not saying it should be disingenuous, it just hurts you know? ouch

nahhh i don't think ppl should feel obligated to do marketing for a fic they've already put time and energy into helping the writer with!

[fuwaprince]

...

[lets-dance-to-joy-division]

-Sometimes-

S.J.K. year unknown