#well. longish

[irate-iguana]

I present to you, BtVS textpost memes, part 1:

AtS textpost memes

[cognitiveleague]

Truly one of the more frustrating recurring experiences of trying to navigate life as a grown-ass person with ADHD is that like… it’s so goddamn hard to keep my brain (which is, y’know, diagnosably deficient in Reward Self for Accomplishing Task juice) motivated to put forward the effort to take care of chores and errands and shit, because I have so many unpleasant memories of failing at that sort of thing and I feel so little sense of reward (or even relief) when I do get things done that it’s this huge effort to not just… ignore tasks until they develop into a Bullshit Avalanche that I can no longer ignore? And when I do force myself to Do Something, running into obstacles can make me feel so frustrated and embarrassed that it’s almost as if I’m being punished for trying to accomplish the task and it would have been better not to try in the first place

Like today I noticed that I’d worked about an extra hour over the last few days, and instead of doing overtime I was like “ok, it’s payday and the ‘get your oil changed, bitch’ light has been on for a while, let’s clock out at the 40 hour mark and go do that before it’s time to pick my wife up from work so I don’t have to try to make that happen this weekend”

Which meant not just the actual task of taking the car to the oil change place, but also sheepishly explaining to the folks there that a) I did not have the financial means to be upsold on anything that was not likely to be a life or death issue before tax refunds come in so please don’t bother unless you are literally afraid for my life if I don’t get the additional service, and b) I actually already know about the headlight that’s out and the old-ass air filter but please don’t replace them, I have the replacements in the car and just keep forgetting to install them myself and only remembering about it when I don’t have time or the engine is too hot for me to go feeling around for where the fucking headlight bulb goes

And to add insult to that injury, they finish up and I’m like, oh. Right.

I lost my debit card like 2-3 weeks ago (yay, absolute garbage perception of time) and KNOW it’s on the floor of the car or maybe in my apartment somewhere so I haven’t reported it lost to get a replacement I just need to find it but the car’s a huge mess and I keep always being too tired or busy when I think about it. And also it’s hard to not be underemployed when I don’t have the spoons to look for a better paying job on top of holding down the job I have, and my wife has similar issues, and the cost of living these days, guys, am I right?? And we’ve got a little windfall coming soon that will help us pay off our debts, but crucially. That is still ‘soon’ and hasn’t happened yet. Anyway so the credit card is apparently maxed out from us having to use it to get around not being paid a living wage the last couple of years :))))))) And the “emergency use only because the bill goes to my parents’ house and I don’t want to abuse the privilege of having parents who can afford to and are willing to help financially when I really need it or to keep being a burden on them, and also they WILL judge me if anything unnecessary is on there” card in my wallet is expired and the new one is somewhere in the kitchen (or living room?) mess at home so I can’t use that right now either

So I had to explain in front of the other customers that I just straight up forgot that the only functioning card in my wallet was maxed out and like, stand there while she looked at records to confirm I was a regular client who’d never pulled shit like this before and also put a note on my file so they could like, know about it and refuse service in the future if I didn’t make good on my promise to come back and pay once I pick my wife (and their debit card) up from work in an hour and a half

And the embarrassment of all of that so thoroughly outweighs whatever minuscule satisfaction my brain can derive from “but I got the task done!” that it feels like I didn’t accomplish anything and also like I put myself through a shitty awkward experience for (what feels like) nothing. And it’s that, but with like…. every fucking thing that I have to deal with when I get home from work and I’m tired and my meds have worn off. So I just have to keep powering my way through a wall of experiences telling me “you will have all of the suffering and experience none of the reward, OR you could not bother and do something that does make you feel nice instead because wow fuck that” for EVERY GODDAMN LITTLE THING.

Anyway I love my brain for so many things, but goddamn it would be great if the “positive reinforcement machine broken” issue impaired me as little as ableists seem to think it should

[nagitosstolenhand]

i don't like the growing opinion that people are being 'too hard' on deku for his failing to save shigaraki.

i've seen quite a few people complaining that a lot of the bnha-critical crowd are being too mean to deku for getting tomura killed, arguing that it isn't really his fault, and that hes a 16 year old child soldier who's been failed by almost every adult in his life, why should we be putting all of this on his shoulders? hes just a kid after all?

and the truth is, they're right. deku IS a 16 year old boy whos had the fate of the world thrust on his shoulders. but the story itself just plainly refuses to acknowledge this.

the narrative doesn't acknowledge how fucked up having a school that trains literal children how to be combo cop-celebrities is. it only tentatively acknowledges the fact that a universe having combo cop-celebrities is fucked up, and even then the only people who ever point this out are antagonists, who are portrayed and treated in-universe as untrustworthy. the narrative doesn't care how fucked up dekus circumstances are. the narrative treats deku like hes a fucking messiah here to touch the hearts of the evil depressed villains with his magical empathetic heart of gold before they get blown up or just sent to fucking superhell for daring to challenge the status quote.

deku isn't a person. he's barely even a fucking character at this point. he's a plot device, and a mouth piece for the objectively shitty themes bnha is trying to spout. the themes that tell you that if you're mistreated by society and want to do something about it, you're a villain. that disrupting the status quote and refusing to repent to some random teenage boy spouting empty platitudes at you means you deserve to get sent to fucking superhell. the themes that portray people fighting for civil change as mass murdering supervillains. the themes that look the audience dead in the eye and can call deku the greatest hero to ever live.

deku, who barely spared a second thought to lady nagant telling him the truth about the hero commission. who spouts meaningless platitudes about heroism and morality at nagant, and aoyama, and toga and shigaraki, when even the thought that he should question the world around him comes up. who's constantly talked about as this truly kind, empathetic person, but hasn't spared an empathetic thought to literally anyone who is classified as a villain. who listened to every authority figure around him except the ones who asked him to question his worldview. who saw la bravas tears, shigarakis various breakdowns, himikos plead for understanding, chisakis catatonic state, lady nagants truth, and barley batted a fucking eye. deku, who killed tomura shigaraki.

people don't criticize deku for failing shigaraki because they just hate deku. people criticize deku because of what he represents. because hes a mouthpiece for the atrocious morals and themes of this ideologically rotten manga. because any character he had was chopped up to bits in favor of the incomplete husk we have now. people criticize deku because hes the main character of my hero academia. theres nothing more damning then that.

[b4kuch1n]

one string is all that I need

[maxsix]

[worlds-oldest-teenager]

I’m interested. How do Apollo and Artemis’s desire to protect each other drive a wedge between them?

I'm glad you askeddd. Thank you for being my first anon ever btw. (@crowmakeska-boom idk if you are the anon but anon, whoever you are, sorry for the wait). This is probably not a very good meta cause it's mostly vibes, gut feelings and filling in the blanks with below the bare minimum of textual evidence but oh well. 

First I'd like to talk about why I think Artemis and Apollo's relationship is kind of distant. They're a confusing duo. When you first meet them in the titan's curse it may seem they don't like each other much or atleast Artemis seems to not be paticularly fond of her brother. Calling him “irresponsible”, “lazy”, “big headed”. But reading between the lines reveals how much the two of them care for each other, especially on Apollo's part from all the illegal help he was dishing out to the questers.

But then when you read some more, their relationship just feels a tad too distant to completely take what they say as just banter. When we see them on Delos in Blood of Olympus the distance is literal. They're recycling banter that's getting old and you can tell that even if it had been lighthearted before, it’s definitely getting on both their nerves now (stolen from fsinger lmao). They’ve both been playing the part for a long time but it feels like they don’t have the closeness anymore to recognize they’re both just playing parts. 

So what happened?

I think it's their need to protect each other that's causing this rift between them. From my point of view Artemis & Apollo are protecting each other from different things but Olympus is at the core of it for the both of them.

The twins have a very different experience of Olympus. Since her introduction Artemis seems pretty critical of Olympus. According to the hunters she's the only one who can get the ball rolling during solstice meetings and she's shown to not really act the Olympian way. Taking the sky off the shoulders of a mortal girl. Shrinking herself down to make the human heroes feel more comfortable and demanding they get rewarded.

It wouldn't be far fetched to assume that she's never fit in with Olympus and doesn't agree with most of the views of her family.

Then there's Apollo.

Who fits in so perfectly with the messed up inner workings of Olympus or so people think. He's perfected his mask over the years and no one is the wiser about the abuse he's gone through or even the fact that this isn't actually who he is.

To me, Artemis wants to protect Apollo from Olympus' true nature. In her head she's got every part of Olympus figured out and for the most part she has. Even if it's not something that works for her I think she would want to protect her younger brother from knowing what the kind of people he surrounds himself with are truly like.

I feel like Artemis would be conflicted on it for other reasons too because if Apollo is aware of the kind of people the Olympians are and he's alright with that, what kind of god is Apollo?

So she'd much rather think of him as stupid and irresponsible cause those atleast mean that it isn't he isn't a bad person. But I feel deep down she doesn't really believe completely that what she knows of her brother is correct.

But then she sees the way Zeus loves Apollo and cares for him and in her mind it's the right decision to let him live this way. He is safer now than they ever were as children.

Apollo on the other hand wants to conceal their father's true nature from Artemis. We know that he cares deeply about appearing fine on the surface because of how others would worry and who would worry more than his older sister.

Artemis and Apollo may be the protectors of youth but the first ever youth they protected were each other. It's the foundation of their relationship and caries on into the present day. Both of them feel a desperate need to protect each other.

I would go so far as to say that this is THE relationship they have with each other. The both of them never find comfort in each other, only protection. You can tell that comfort is not something they usually derive from each other from the way they're both completely blindsided by simple things like an "I love you" , a hug and just concern in general.

Comfort from each other is not a priority for them no matter how much they crave it. The twins purpose to each other is to protect.

So of course Apollo would never tell Artemis about the way Zeus hurts him.

I also think there's a little bit of denial on Artemis' part on just how abusive Zeus is. Cause Apollo is dropping hints. Even the way Artemis talks during Blood of Olympus makes it clear that she understands Zeus is gonna massacre the guy. She just doesn't want to believe it will be permanent.

And it's got a lot to do with the fact that she wants to protect him. Because if she acknowledges this isn't a situation Apollo is gonna come out from unscathed that means that she's incapable of protecting him. That means that she's failed to protect him before and cannot protect him again.

So she'd much rather pretend that Zeus is persuadable and not that bad. That it's Apollo's fault Zeus comes down so hard on him and if he were a little better and a bit more like her he could be safe.

And this would hurt Apollo because Artemis can pinpoint exactly what Zeus is like. But instead of comforting him she confirms for him that this is his fault. That if he could be better none of this would happen. Artemis helps prevent but never helps heal because helping her brother heal means he was in a position to be hurt in the first place.

All this mess and miscommunication and disbelief stemming from the fact that they love each other and never want to see each other hurt creates an impossible distance between them.

But there is light at the end of the tunnel. Slowly but surely they're trying to comfort/ seek comfort instead of just protect each other.

I wept on my sister’s shoulder. I felt like if I let go of Artemis, I would fall back into Chaos. Huge parts of my identity would shake loose, and I would never be able to find all the puzzle pieces. “Whoa, there.” She patted my back awkwardly. “Okay, little fella. You’re all right now. You made it.”

Apollo's trials sucked. But I'm glad it's given the twins the opportunity to bridge the gap between their relationship again.

[amygdalae]

Ridiculously hot guy was kinda flirting with me at the counter at work 🙈 something abt a guy in a leather jacket hoo

[cryptiduni]

…i just saw this poll and my unevolved brain gel wriggled inside my cranium like a feral fish:

idk how you look at his official art and call him conventionally attractive. my man looks like a wet dog and has eyebags for daysss. face full of pox scars, skin pale af, and those shaggy ass hair & a rugged beard hanging from his flat long face.

he is pretty *to me* but like dude???

—not exactly a heartthrob boy band material is he?

obv I wouldn’t call him “misunderstood baby uwu” if we are talking a little more seriously —but to be fair jean is having possibly the worst week of his life. the car? fucking sunk. case? unsolved. not to mention his close partner (who is also an ass mind you) doesn’t even remember him, already running around with a new one.

yeah he is absolutely foul and aggressive and degrading harry but like i said before (in my tag essay lol) judit also makes ableist comments and i don’t see people hating her because she’s outwardly nice—

and respects harry as her superior. her BOSS.

(also a friend with benefits? /nope, it’s just him harassing judit/ as well but not as a complicated relationship compared jean and harry’s brötherbund. only a few months of acquaintanceship.)

plus it’s highhlyyy likely that harry is not the only one substance abuse. —look at jean’s rudolf-looking-red-ass-nose. a drunkard’s sniffers. probably had few lines with him late at night… when your lifetime partner is an alcoholic it's hard to say no.

about the left for dead thing, they left because harry told them to fuck off. tbh harry is nightmare to work with esp pre-bender. (and am saying as a pathetic little unmedicated neurodivergent woman.)

but when the second time they left revachol was not jean’s fault, and it was judit’s suggestion anyway. the squad probably thought that since harry had someone a little more responsible looking after him. it will be fine when they come back. the tribunal was absolutely unaccounted for.

yet despite all of these things, he will try to come back to make sure he is ok and accommodate harrier to the best of his abilities which is wearing very thin. look at him trying to make up to our harry boy:

anyways am incapable of writing coherent thoughts (even though i want to talk about it for hours) that make sense so go look at sygneth’s jean psychological analysis instead. it is an excellent read. please go read.

[eternal-moss]

Candace redesign ft my brilliant editing skills.

Okay so- things I changed:

-I made her skin darker and her hair curlier because she is inspired by Kush which was situated in ancient Sudan and some of Egypt and if you look at literally any art from that time the skin is rarely as pale as her actual design

-I switched the long sleeve from the left arm to the right because I thought that having two large elements (shield + sleeve) might be a bit unbalanced

-I made the lower half of her clothes resemble a shendyt because I didn’t really like the undershorts

-I made her top half have more clothes (lol) and I kinda imagine the metal strips around her rib cage to go all the way round, like an exoskeleton, so that if a blunt attack hit her, she’d have some armouring that wasn’t too heavy

-I made her shoulder guard cover more of her shoulder

-I made her arms+legs+torso wider because I barely know anyone in real life who’s that skinny

Things I kept the same:

-The sandals; I used to have sandals like that and they are super comfy + allow for good movement. They are also good for hotter climates so it makes sense for her to wear them

-The ankh+necklace+shield; Candace is allegedly supposed to be based off the historical figure Kandake from Kush, and the Kushite kingdom spread into Egypt, which is why I think they added stuff like the ankh to her, as well as the eagle symbol on her shield which reminds me a lot of Rome.

She’s not the only person to have Greco-Roman influences in their character with Egypt, as Cyno, who is very heavily based off Anubis, has his own name come from Greek (κύων) which means dog, (and ‘cyno’ is still used in English as a prefix in taxonomy for dog like animals) because Anubis is either based off jackals or wild dogs.

[sygneth]

them, but young (late night sketches)

(i make a DE comic)

[whumpflash]

Penumbra: Undoing

cw: illness, whump aftermath, death/war mentions

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

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They were locked in the blacksmith's woodshed; a cold, cramped room made smaller by the logs stacked along the walls. Once securely inside, one of the men loosened the bindings on Tansy's wrists; enough to grant a scrap of comfort, if not freedom of movement. Another fastened what looked like a bridle around Cerus's head, forcing the metal bit into his mouth and pulling the leather tight.

For the hundredth time, Tansy tried to pull at the party's sympathies.

"Sirs, please. I only wanted to—"

And for the hundredth time, they were ignored, this time rewarded not with a blow, but with the slamming of the woodshed door. As the footsteps outside retreated, Tansy tested the door, ignoring the throbbing of their bruised abdomen as they threw their weight against it.

It didn't give, not even a little, and they fell away from it with a wince. Their various injuries were scattered in such a way that while moving wasn't agonizing, anything they did caused some kind of pain. In their face, in their torso, in their knuckles, a flicker or a flare.

With an immediate exit out of the question, Tansy turned their attention to Cerus. They felt a twinge of relief as they watched the shallow rise and fall of his ribcage, and found themselves wondering once again why they'd done it. 

Treating his wounds was one thing, but fighting for him? Hurting fellow villagers in the name of helping the damned Shadow King?

They pushed the prickly thought aside, scanning the cramped room until their eyes landed on a small woodaxe. In their hurry to lock the pair away, the search party hadn't bothered to clear the shed.

Tansy trudged over to where the axe lay, freeing their wrists, then carrying the blade over to where Cerus lay and cutting his bonds.

The man still seemed unconscious, though he was shivering uncontrollably, and after a brief moment's hesitation, Tansy sat against the wall and gently pulled Cerus into their arms, wrapping their cloak around his shuddering form and cradling him against their chest. It was likely they'd be in here for a while, and after all they'd already done, they weren't about to let him freeze to death.

Despite his fever-hot skin, Cerus leaned into them as if seeking warmth. His head lolled back onto their shoulder, eyelids fluttering as he uttered a soft groan. Shadow King or not, warmth was warmth, and Tansy made no effort to create a distance between them, instead setting half-numbed fingers to work on removing Cerus's makeshift muzzle.

They could break out of here. It would be fairly easy with the woodaxe handy, but what then? Would they spend the rest of their lives running? Would they even make it out of the village if they were dragging Cerus along? Abandoning him was no longer an option. They'd made their choice, however stupid, and they'd stick with it.

Still, there were better paths than further ruining their own life. They could wait for the Council to arrive, and explain the situation. They could claim it was a misunderstanding, and distance themselves from the Shadow King. Or maybe they could plead for mercy. For reason. Find a better fate for them both.

They'd managed to undo the first clasp on the bridle when there was a voice at the door, muffled and reedy and familiar.

"Tansy?"

They frowned. "Uncle?" Normally, Aldon would be out on the sea at this hour. Had the news already spread to him?

"So it's true."

They felt their heart sink at his tone, shock ringed with stark disbelief. Tansy wasn't particularly close with the old man, but he was the only family they had left.

"Why?" Aldon said, his voice quieting. "Why would you do such a thing?"

Tansy grimaced, fingers moving to the second clasp. All these whys. "If you'd seen him on the dock… if you could see him now, you wouldn't ask me that," they answered.

"Child—"

"He's suffered enough abuse, Uncle. I don't care who he is. I won't stand for it."

There was silence on the other side of the door, and for a moment they wondered if he'd left. Then,

"The men are saying you've allied yourself with him, Tansy," Aldon said, his tone sharpening. "Allied with the Shadow King. I'd thought them mistaken, but now—"

"Would you have me scorn a wounded man?" they cut him off, unable to keep the anger from their voice. "Leave him to die in the cold? I thought we were better than that. I thought we all were better than that."

Aldon sighed, and the door creaked, as if he were leaning on it. "Is there nothing I can say to sway you from this madness?"

Madness. There it was. Spoken insistence that Tansy really had lost all sense when they'd chosen to hold out their hand. "Nothing," they replied. For a moment, they were resolved to speak no more, to end the conversation there if it would only amount to more accusations, but thought better of it, remembering the healing herbs still tucked into their cloak.

"If you have any love for me… if blood means anything, will you bring me some hot water? And…" they swallowed, their head throbbing. "And some willow bark. For the pain."

"For him?"

"For us. Please, Uncle."

Another long silence, filled in with the slight creak of the woodshed walls and the short breaths of the Shadow King.

"I… I will. For your sake, not his."

And then the silence lingered. Tansy let out a sharp, frustrated sigh, and at last opened the final clasp, gently removing the leather from Cerus's tangled dark hair, and pulling the bit from his mouth. As they did, his body gave a little shudder. A reaction to the touch, they thought at first, but then it came again. And again, accompanied by a small gasp. Cerus was… was he crying?

Of all the things he'd done, from his insults to his wary questioning, this was the thing they'd expected the least. This was the thing they knew how to respond to the least. Even with friends in the battalion, most preferred to hide their tears. What were they to do with an enemy?

They opted for silence, shifting slightly beneath the man, hoping he couldn't sense their discomfort.

"I lost," Cerus said after what felt like forever.

"What?" they replied, wondering if the man was in the grip of a fevered dream.

"I l-lost the war," Cerus continued, his voice laced with a tremor. "The victor chooses the fate of the defeated, and the defeated accepts." The end of his sentence was choked out by a cough, but he pushed on. "I failed, and I'll reap the rewards of that failure. It's what is right."

"Is that what you think?" Tansy said.

"It's—" Another cough, punctuated by a whimper. "It's what I know."

Reaping the rewards. Was that why he seemed so numbed to the world? Had he accepted the Council's drawn-out death sentence, and consequently given up on life? They remembered how confused he'd been when they'd started cleaning his wounds, as if it was the last thing he'd expected to happen. Yet he'd gone with them without a fight, willing to bear whatever horrors a stranger decided to drown him in.

 They didn't expect him to continue, but somehow were still unsurprised when he did.

"Th-thought it was a dream," Cerus said. "When I heard the shout to stop. I thought the fever had my mind, I thought, who would say that? Who would do that? Yet here you are. And I still don't know why."

Tansy opened their mouth, the same explanation they'd given a hundred times—to their uncle, to Cerus, and more than anyone else, to themselves—on their tongue, but the Shadow King spoke again before they had a chance.

"I know, I know, you don't want to see more suffering. Then look away. Or close your damned eyes." He let out a bitter laugh. "I lost. A-and I–gnh—I earned my fate."

"You think you deserve it then? All of…" they gestured aimlessly, "...this?"

He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was even, devoid of the tearful quiver that had gripped it before, replaced with something hollow. 

"Such a funny word," Cerus murmured. "Deserve. Who is to say what anyone deserves? I suppose the decision falls to whoever is in power. Yet seeing as it was these new powers who chose my fate… perhaps I do deserve this."

Before they'd won the war, before they'd watched the guards drag the Shadow King's broken body into the city square, Tansy might've agreed. A man who ruled with fear should be made to feel that fear himself, shouldn't he? Terror, pain, loss. All the things they'd wished on Cerus when their home burned, when they counted their battalion's casualties, when they raised their sword against an undead soldier.

But now that he'd tasted them all, Tansy felt no closure. They only felt tired. Putting Cerus through misery didn't make anything better. Fighting fire with fire only made more fire.

"What if you hadn't lost?" they asked. "What do you think those of us who rose against you are deserving of?"

"Death," Cerus said plainly. Despite the implications, Tansy felt no fear, nor anger, nor even indignation.

"And what would you have done?" they said.

"I would have the rebel leaders and generals executed," Cerus answered with little hesitation. "Leave their corpses hanging as a warning. Foot soldiers and lower ranks would choose to swear an oath of fealty, or follow their leaders into death." Something almost joyful had crept into his voice, and a sick sense of unease crawled into Tansy's gut in response. Cerus had reason to hate his former subjects, especially after the treatment he'd received from them, but that didn't make it any easier to hear him gleefully speak of murdering them. For a moment, they could remember their determination to see Cerus fall.

"I would double the patrols," Cerus continued. "Enforce a curfew. Set up wards to alert me of any future plots. But that would be all." His voice had grown quiet, the hint of joy swiftly fading. "The deaths of the traitors would be swift. I wouldn't—" his voice broke. "I-I wouldn't have…"

The moment passed. Not knowing what else to do, Tansy wrapped their arms around him, letting him clutch feebly at their shirtsleeves as his body shuddered with suppressed sobs. Another surprise. Even now, after all he'd endured, Cerus seemed opposed to torturing his enemies.

A soft knock came at the door, and Tansy looked up to see an earthenware flagon being passed through a gap in the boards that made up the wall. They gingerly removed themselves from behind Cerus to retrieve it. The water within was not hot, but it was warmer than the surrounding air, and they fished out the pouch of herbs, pinching some between their fingers and dropping it into the water to steep.

A finger's length of willow bark followed the flagon, and they took it with a murmured thanks.

"How long are they to keep us locked in here?" Tansy asked, once they'd repositioned themselves.

"The Council will be notified, but you will not walk free before their arrival," their uncle answered.

Would they be kept here in that time? Freezing in this tiny shed? "And when will they arrive?" they asked.

"With luck, they'll garner transport with a mage's circle and be here within a few days," Aldon replied. "But child, the village will not wait."

Dread curled in their stomach at his words. "Will not wait for what?"

The old man took an audible breath before continuing. "You are both to be punished," he said. "Flogged in the square. I tried to reason with them, but people are afraid. They want to show that the Shadow King, and… and any collaborators, are subdued."

Flogged? Tansy forced themself to take a deep breath, a futile effort to ease the curdling in their gut. 

"Tansy?"

"I heard you, Uncle." They closed their eyes, resting the back of their head on the wall. "It's… it'll be alright."

"I will see if I can bring you a meal," Aldon said. "Please… I ask that you think on this in the meantime. How much are you willing to sacrifice for him?"

As the sound of their uncle's footsteps faded, Tansy placed the willow bark between their teeth, chewing anxiously. A public whipping would be both painful and humiliating for them, but for Cerus it may well be a death sentence. The bandages they'd wrapped around his torso the night before had already darkened with blood from the wounds that covered his back. The thought of layering more on top of those…

They couldn't let it happen. There was one thing they could do, one way to shield Cerus, but it wouldn't be pleasant for them.

A rueful smile crept across Tansy's face.

But what's one more sacrifice?

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@whumpwillow @rabbitdrabbles @kixngiggles @honeycollectswhump @chiswhumpcorner @whatwhumpcomments , @dont-look-me-in-the-eye , @turn-the-tables-on-them

[spheredotorb]

incomprehensible doodle page (first shot at gijinka) bone apple teeth

[bsaka7]

first long run since my evil cold that knocked me down last week slash longest long run of the cycle wish me luck all

[quiggel]

Okay okay so as someone in the aromantic spectrum, I absolutely hate the whole soulmates concept. But I just had a thought based on the idea and I kinda like it.

Okay so let’s say over two thousand years ago or something along those lines, symbols started to appear on every person’s wrist when they reached, idk let’s say 16. No one knew what they meant, or why they were there. Then, in some community, two people found they had the same wrist symbol. They grew close. They fell in love. And the townsfolk decided that’s what the symbols meant. They would guide you to your soulmate. Word of these lovers spread fast. It became fact. Of course, other groups of people were found to have their own meanings for the symbols, but their beliefs were quickly “fixed”. It became engrained into culture. Homophobia never really happened, because of course these people are allowed be together, they were literally made for each other. Finding your soulmate, the one with your matching symbol, was something on the minds of everyone. Sure, there were some cases where the people didn’t like each other, but of course they were simply confused. They were made to be together, and they would be together. In many countries, it became illegal to marry someone who isn’t your soulmate. In others, it became law that you had to marry your soulmate when you eventually found them. Because why not? You had to be together anyway. You were made to be together. Fast forward to modernish times (well probably closer to about 20 years ago). The internet is here. And, unsurprisingly, someone basically creates a dating app. You upload a picture of your symbol, and the program matches you to the person with the same one, assuming they’re on there. It became an instant hit. No more searching for them, hoping you’d bump into them at the shop or move in to a town they lived in; now you could find your soulmate at the click of a button. But there’s a hitch. Soon, the app found something interesting. No one was only getting matched with one person. There were always more than two people with the same symbol. People usually only found one person in real life because each symbol is rare, and you’re unlikely to have more than maybe two or three people with the same symbol in the same area. But with the app, the symbols were being shared everywhere, and although rate, they weren’t unique. And no, not because of polyamory, although I love that too. It’s simply because it’s all bullshit. The symbols don’t mean soulmates. They never did. One coincidence, and the world was hooked. But it isn’t true. The whole world’s concept of love isn’t true. And as you can imagine, that isn’t going to go down too well.

[emily-mooon]

Oh fuck I have a type.

[ourgoodfriendjonathan]

Let's just picture this, place ourselves in mrs westenra's shoes. If any of us knew that our own bloody daughter (our only child for that matter) was sick enough to have Two Doctors visiting her Daily

1. would you walk into her room knowing you might die if you see her in a bad state?

2. Would you walk into her room late at night? When you two, both sick, should be sleeping and gathering strength?

3. Would you look around and think "Huh, this room is Laden with flowers. There must be No Reason At All why anyone went through the obviously huge effort to decorate it like that!"

4. "Huh, some of these flowers were pressed into the cracks of the windowsill and even into the hearth!"

5. "Huh, someone even took the trouble to make wreaths out of these flowers!"

6. Would you then land on the conclusion: "I have to throw them all out."

No. This isn't on Van Helsing. I agree it's better to be open and communicate but jfc. Nobody could predict anyone ever doing something like mrs westenra did.

What did she think? Did she think she knew better than the professor? Did she think someone other than the two doctors came along to decorate the room? without her knowing? Did she think lucy or the person decorating wouldn't be able to realise the room was stuffy? while they decorated it with bloody garlic?? She should at least give her own daughter some credit and trust her judgement. At the very least she could have asked first.

Honestly, she wasn't thinking at all, there is no excuse.