#seeking safety
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Seeking Answers and finding Maturity
I’m sitting here scrolling through social media and listening to the rain falling outside. The same rain as yesterday is falling now. A slow, light, soaking rain. The world around me has exploded in its green dressing, making such a difference from the winter months. The outside cats were fed an hour ago. Momo (our part time cat) showed up after not being around for a couple of days. She allows…
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#Bible#faith#God#Jesus#keep the peace#lessons in life#life is not easy#prayer#seeking safety#seeking to keep calm#sin or not#struggles#truth and lies
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A bit about me, Constance Langdon.
I lived in New Orleans for centuries. I walked the streets among the immortals. New Orleans was considered “safe” as anyplace can be for Us. Witches, Warlocks, Voodoo Queens and Papa Legba. Vampires, Lycans, Demons.
That’s how I met Crowley. It was in the 1700’s Spain was in control. Their narrow minded religious beliefs caused several factions to break from one another. We had found a quiet, low key, existence until they came.
My coven was dragged through the streets, placed on stakes and burned before my eyes. They forced me to watch while the ones I loved screamed in agony.
My fury, anger and extreme uncontrollable despair brought forth many immortals. Some gleefully watching my pain, others wary of who the humans would try to destroy next. Only one stepped forward to help me.
I knew from the moment I looked into those yellow reptilian eyes, so filled with fury, I had found someone that understood loosing the ones you love, is far worse than losing God’s grace.
I found myself unbound as he told me to go. It was so quiet, not a movement or sound. I realized then, I was in the presence of the most powerful demon I had ever encountered. Perhaps the most powerful demon in the Universe.
I expressed my gratitude and knew my servitude would be requested next. Much to my surprise, he introduced himself as “Crowley”. When I asked what was required of me, his reply was “nothing”. He bid me farewell and was gone.
I slowly rebuilt my coven. Keeping a low profile, cloaking myself from the humans.
Through the years I managed to garner information on Crowley. He kept company with an angel, Aziraphale. An unlikely pair.
I traveled to a mystic shop in Soho in the late 1800’s that I was told had items I needed for the rituals coming in a fortnight. After procuring what they had, I walked along a river, keeping a low profile getting ready to go back to New Orleans.
I heard 2 gentlemen having a disagreement. Not my business, as I kept walking, until I heard “the voice”. I spun round, unable to stop myself. One was stomping away, the other stood ramrod tall, staring straight ahead. “Obviously” he stated, sarcasm dripping.
As his head turned, he looked directly at me. “You” was all he said. Even though the eyes were covered, I could feel them drilling into me. I told him I was on my way home and had recognized the voice. I apologized for overhearing his conversation. He only laughed a bitter sound.
We talked for a few minutes, and I again thanked him for saving me. He growled and told me to never mention it again. I couldn’t hold back my words, “you love him, don’t you? I can smell the sweetness on you from his essence.”
He turned and walked away from me. “Good luck Constance, and goodbye.”
That was the last time I saw Crowley, but he was my first thought as knowing a possible safe place for me to go, heal and live after the humans, aided by the Voodoo Queen wiped my coven out again. This time they took my beloved children as well.
This is how I came to find myself in unfamiliar territory, seeking sanctuary, once again. This time in Europe. New Orleans was no longer safe for me.
#Constance Langdon#go rp#crowley#angels and demons#seeking safety#witches are not immortals#good omens rp
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En Route
“Mind your step.”
I nodded. I’d waited too long for this to end my chance with a twisted ankle. The stairs were strewn with leaves and refuse.
“Leave no sign. It will be dark.”
I dipped my chin again in acquiescing. I’d promised that no matter what, I would not make a sound. I hoped the thunder of my heart between my ears did not transmit over the earpiece.
“Walk down.”
I did. Tried not to…
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#100WordChallenge#Flash Fiction#Following Directions#Friday Fictioneers#Micro-fiction#Mystery#Photo prompt#Seeking safety#Stairs
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Sometimes, I'm sad about the hobbies I have abandoned or have been too intimidated to pick up. But... what good is it, to just beat myself up over that? My bass is sitting in the corner, patiently waiting, and so is everything else. My life isn't over, and I've got nothing to answer to. I'm wading through a sea of time, and I'll pick up the seashells that interest me, and it's okay to put one back in the sand. The current's waves will bring it back to me if that is to be destiny. I can not hate myself into productivity, so I must swim on.
I think the same can apply to anybody. It's okay if you have dropped something, such as a hobby or passion. Human beings are like that sometimes, it isn't reasonable for you to beat yourself into submission. You, too, can not hate yourself into being a well-rounded person. You must cultivate it like you would a garden - with patience, time, and care.
#positivity#encouraging words#i feel like so often people will try to hate themselves into being 'better' people...#...like fitness for instance. so many people slog through fitness not because they are interested in moving their body...#..but because they are told they must do [x] workout or look [y] way...#...and so it becomes a chore that is a means to an end. but... is that how we ought to live you think?#like i go to the gym because it's FUN. i go there to have FUN. i do what is enjoyable there!#i don't worry about anything but if i am doing a weightlife correctly (for safety) and if i am moving and having fun#why would i go to the gym if i am not having fun? fun is a *human need* regardless of age!#we are wired to do fun things - to seek out pleasure. why should we surpress that?#a well-rounded person is somebody who can be in-tune with their feelings and can recognize what is enjoyable...#...and not only that but to not feel *bad* about their feelings or needs changing (this is - at least - my opinion)#i thought this was an interesting conversation and something i sometimes struggle with and see others struggle with
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'forgiveness for inner peace' is abuser propaganda
#we'd have inner peace if there was justice#psychological abuse#forced forgiveness#victim blaming#emotional abuse#abuser defending#pushing victims to forgive abuse#instead of seeking safety and justice
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Vorhim Kegran, Morag Tong agent
#tesblr#the elder scrolls#dunmer#morrowind#dark elf#oc#eso#original character#artists on tumblr#hes officially from redoran house#kept manners honor and dignity#strong sens of hierarchy#blind faith in mephala#and vehk even if his superior is one of mephalas widow#obeys obeys obeys#vorhim works for morrowinds safety and religious purposes#subtile and discrete#murder is a prayer and has to be done p e r f e c t l y#seek his widow’s pride#scares the shit out of his own tong colleagues#way too pious#way too obedient
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I don't know anything about swans so maybe this isn't accurate, but I do have a pet bird and holding him like Leo is holding Donnie would be an INCREDIBLE show of trust. Sleeping so close to a human-not even napping, full-on beak under his wing fast asleep, even my 'tiel doesn't normally sleep like that when he naps on me. And allowing Leo to wrap his arms around his wings means Swanny must feel VERY safe with him. It's sad and heartwarming all at the same time.
Perfect.
#coz this is EXACTLY what im going for ; w ;#this is precisely the vibes god bless#just like#in general over the next several updates and this prev update#know that donnie feels#BAD#and that almost everything he does he does in an attempt to seek some sense of comfort and safety#his behavior is a result of everything feeling horrible and numb and helpless and him trying to find something that makes him feel#a little bit better#even when its not obvious#asks#swanatello#swanatello asks
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Propaganda is one of the most powerful weapons countries have today and in this age of media illiteracy they are using it more then ever.
Do not let yourself side with the opressor, they do not see the people they're oppressing as human and will use anything and say anything against them.
Do not give them power because you are too lazy to look at what you're reading and check how correct it is.
#Palestine will be free and I hope their freedom comes soon#I hope they can return home I hope they can heal I hope they can find the safety they seek in their homed#Op
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Ghost! My shadow! Caress me!
Saw Cherry Glazerr play 'Moon Dust' live a few weeks ago and it fucking ruled. Been going through old pages for Reasons and u know my emo ass can't pass up a good song quote image post
Full-Spectrum Therapy (2016)
#playlist#that song is so fucking good#so this section of ch4 is top of my 'needs edits bad' list#i think it's a common place people stop reading#its shape in the narrative is like a weird knot that adds complexity and confusion at a point where it should be a first clear revelation#breakdown of safety structures -> finding solace in the void -> we see him actively affect the void -> he decides to get OUT#whereas damien is still trying to scrounge up safety structures and hasn't yet resorted to actively seeking solace in the void#like this scene should have much more emphasis and be a much more direct parallel to the climax of the story w damien staying in the void#i would just like that all clearer on a first read#this page is still fun tho#anyway remember this page for limiter huehueh#fullspectrumtherapy
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A Lone Melody (Pt. 2)
Platonic parental Yandere Arlong & OC(Melody)
Main|First
Warnings: Possessive behavior and references to canonical racism and slavery.
Word Count: 1,388
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There were some adjustments to be made when considering a baby on board a ship. Arlong wasn’t stupid, he knew this would have to happen in some way or another. Simple things like setting up designated play areas to occupy Melody when all hands were needed on deck—much as she clearly hated being left alone. They also had to stock up on special food for her since she was too young to even really have solid food, even if it was smashed all to hell. A weird powder substance that keeps better than trying to maintain a milk supply given that, for all the many talents in the crew, spontaneously providing baby-safe milk was simply not something any of the men could do.
It was a bit of learning curve for everyone but having a bubbly baby happy to be talked at did wonders for morale.
Arlong was currently trying to get Melody to speak. Holding her up to his chest and pointing out things and people as they passed by.
“—And those are seagulls, the noisy shits. A pretty good indication that an island is nearby since birds don’t usually like to sleep on the sea. You know Jinbe, of course—” Arlong prattled on as Jinbe walked by, rolling his eyes.
“I’m pretty sure you need to wait until she at least has her teeth in before she’ll be talking, Arlong.” Jinbe sighed.
“It’s never too early to start learning, Jinbe!” Arlong hissed before turning back to Melody with a wide smile, “But you could always call him ‘asshole’! Shahahahahaha~!”
“Mmmmm-bah~bah~!” Melody crowed gleefully along with Arlong.
Jinbe drove his fist into Arlong’s head.
“Stop teaching her swear words!” Jinbe hissed, ignoring Arlong’s yelp. “Or the first word out of her mouth will make a sailor blush!” He warned.
Arlong grumbled, rubbing his head.
“Fine. I guess you have a point.” Arlong mumbled, watching Jinbe walk away in a huff. He leaned in close. “Call me ‘dada’ before you call him ‘papa’ or ‘uncle’ and I’ll give you ice cream for dinner.” Arlong whispered, Melody playing along and quietly babbling back to him.
“Abbppft!” She babbled wetly, sticking her hand in her mouth to gnaw on it.
Arlong frowned, considering how wise it would be before gently pulling her hand free. He pressed his finger against her gums and noted the firm notches as she seemed to take offense at his intrusion. Angrily babbling to the best of her ability.
“Looks like someone’s about to start teething. What are you going to grow in there, pup? Something fierce like me?” Arlong asked rhetorically. Melody smacked at his hand until he withdrew with a chuckle, her face scrunched up in irritation before she shoved her hand back in. “Prefer to do it yourself, huh? That’s a good attitude to have, pup.” Arlong praised.
“Hey, Arlong! Are you going to keep talking to yourself or are you going to help trim these sails?” One of the others called. Arlong huffed, looking around for someone to watch Melody for a minute. He didn’t have his sling on hand so he wouldn’t be able to just slip her in and go help out.
“I’ll hold her for a while, Arlong. Go help the others.” Fisher Tiger said, walking up behind Arlong. Arlong startled for a moment, more than a little surprised.
Fisher Tiger had been a bit… distant as far as Melody was concerned, leaving the care of the infant to the rest of them.
“Ah… alright. I’ll be right back, pup, so you behave now.” Arlong warned, handing her off before going to the rigging as requested. Eager as always to go back to holding Melody.
--*--
Fisher Tiger looked down at the small baby with an ache deep in his chest.
The baby gazed up at him from between tufts of downy soft hair, eyes red as blood fixed on him innocently. Still half chewing her own hand, she reached with the other to pull herself up and look at him better.
Shame pooled in his gut as he lowered his head, brushing his thumb over her too-soft skin.
“I’m sorry, little one… my hatred is not your fault…” Fisher Tiger whispered softly into her hair.
He never felt as much of a charlatan as he did while looking at Melody. A large part of him holding such resentment for a mere fraction of her species. Her human features plain as day to his eyes despite his best efforts to see beyond race. She is wholly innocent of the crimes that have been committed against himself and their people.
But still he can’t help but see it. And he is not proud of that fact.
Fisher Tiger is quick to give Melody back to Arlong despite her attempt to reach back out to him.
A move he ignores, still seeing the shadows of faces that have no relation to the half-fishman child.
--*--
After almost three months, there was a passing ship that decided to veer towards them, clearly looking for a fight. Some group of ramshackle pirates probably assuming a ship of lowly fishmen could never beat them.
Arlong grins, grabbing his weapon with Melody strapped to his chest. Hatchan looked at him nervously.
“What, Hachi?” Arlong hissed after a solid minute of the tension increasing.
“You’re not… really going into a fight with Melody, are you?” Hatchan asked nervously, Jinbe doing a double take in surprise. Arlong assumed that Jinbe was so used to seeing Melody in the sling that he didn’t even register it until that moment.
“What? Think I can’t take a few measly humans?” Arlong spat, making Hatchan flinch and shuffle back a few steps.
“It’s just not safe, is all!” He protested.
“She’s perfectly safe with me!” Arlong argued back, resting a hand over her small form when she started to whine.
“Arlong.”
Arlong’s head whipped over to Jinbe, his face hot with embarrassment at the tone Jinbe had taken up.
“What?” Jinbe looked at him like he was a pathetic worm, eyes trailing down slowly to his chest where Melody was secured.
“You’re scaring her.” Jinbe said slowly, like he was a fucking idiot. “She’s just a baby, Arlong. She may be safe with you, but she doesn’t know that. And she won’t understand that if there’s gunfire and blades crossing all around her.”
Arlong looked down and his heart sank.
Melody’s eyes were wide and lined with tears, lips wobbling as she aggressively bit on her fingers in worry. Soft face almost as red as her eyes.
“O-Ohhh, oh no, pup, no!” Arlong cooed softly, quickly heading down below deck to their rooms. Lifting Melody out of the sling and placing her on his cot, wiping her wet cheeks as he kneeled down. “Melody, don’t cry now… I’m sorry, pup. I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to wipe out those filthy humans so you can play on deck again—here, play with this while I take care of something up top.” Arlong quickly wadded up his blankets into a nest to keep her from rolling onto the floor and pulled out a string of pearls. The chain tying them together more than enough to withstand Melody’s inquisitive grasp. And the pearls would probably feel nice to teeth on.
Melody seemed unhappy with the trade off but soothed herself by placing a pearl just smaller than her tiny, baby fist into her mouth. The faint flash of white informing Arlong that she was indeed teething successfully. He gave her a gentle kiss on the top of her soft hair and dashed out of the room to join the fight he could already hear starting.
Arlong hoped she grew out proper fangs like his rather than some useless, flat teeth. Better to bite back with, after all, and with how cute she is, she’ll need every advantage to scare away worms. Not that he’d make her do that all on her own, but still, some level of independence was healthy for children. Kept them confident and happy.
Jinbe caught Arlong’s eye as he rejoined the crew in the fight.
Jinbe looked pleased with himself, much to Arlong’s annoyance. So what if he was right, once? Arlong still knew what was best for his little girl.
#one piece#one piece yandere#a lone melody#platonic yandere#parental yandere#hopefully I'm nailing the slow decent into yandere behavior rather than it being straight out of the gate#and establishing fun little side details like Arlong often doing things for the ego boost#despite genuinely caring for Melody#Whereas Hatchan and Jinbe both seek to ensure her safety and keep realistic ideas of child friendly behavior
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after all the times Rhaenyra lied through teeth, she never got any better at it.
#props to#emma d'arcy#cause her acting is phenomenal when it comes to making Rhaenyra flounder whenever she lies#lukewarm feelings on Rhaenyra Targaryen#anti rhaenyra targaryen#(putting this here for my own safety and well being)#its just so frustrating to see her do literally anything to cover her lies#from murder. maiming. faking ones death. seeking to torture her own little brother. etc. etc.#yet she can't lie to anyone worth a damn#not once has anyone not seen past her lies#like girly... if you and your children's lives depend on you keeping your card house of lies standing#get better at lying#hotd#house of the dragon#rewatching hotd is hell cause every time I do so I notice more and more bones to pick#like the first time theres just so much to absorb you miss a lot of it#but the more you watch it#the more you notice#the more you want to rip your hair out
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Generally, if your narrative is " I think ____, as a group, should be killed or kill themselves" I don't. Trust that. And I think you might wanna examine yourself maybe
#Certain people should be kept away from others for their own safety and everyone elses#But are you considering public safety? Or just personal vendetta?#Bc I've seen shit like 'men who abuse women should be killed'#And. No! They should not.#And I am saying this explicitly as someone with experience with those men#No they should not. They should be held accountable and encouraged if not DEMANDED to seek help#But no they are not worthless as humans. And their rights are not forfeit. Not even the ones you fucking hate.
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thinking about how Benson and Randy would sleep.
they've both been through some shit at an early age and neither of them are handling it very well.
at first glance you'd think they're totally different, but I feel like they're actually so similar in sleeping position and style.
they can only fall asleep curled up tight, limbs close to their bodies. Randy for making himself so small he doesn't harm anyone by simply existing. Benson for some sense of protection, keeping the most vulnerable parts of himself safe, so no one can touch or hurt him. they both struggle to fall asleep, moving around and adjusting their position for hours, and then toss and turn when they eventually manage to fall asleep. both plagued by nightmares and uncomfortable night sweats.
what would they be like if they had to share a bed?
#just thinking thoughts and throwing my sleep troubles on randy and benson. as a horrible little treat 👍#tbh i want them to eventually get so attached they curl up around the other. both seeking to protect and to be protected#some fucked up sense of safety in each other's arms <333#benson would hold on so tight to the point of bruising randy#but i dont think he would mind the bruises much. it's a sign he's wanted and needed. that he's real.
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dean isn’t ever happy, per se. he’s only ever on edge or indulging in a false sense of safety. it’s not happiness more than it is a sense of raw Relief.
why does he eat like a glutton? safety in food, safety in being well-fed and not having to worry about where your next meal is coming from. why does he have rampant casual sex? safety in another body. safety in being close to a person in a way that isn’t violence, safety in trusting your body to be more than a killing machine. why does he cling onto sam like a lifeline? he wants to keep him safe. sam is happy memories. he’s christmas and thanksgiving and new years and fourth of july. sam, to dean, is the EPITOME of safe because he is strong and trustworthy and familiar. he must be kept safe because dean knows that the world outside is angry and barbed with horns, and how could he ever feel safe again in his own presence if he knew that he let his brother die? how could he ever forgive himself for losing that one tether to a world that isn’t terror and fear all the time?
it’s why dean isn’t affected by famine or lust. he’s not hungry. he’s not horny. he’s SCARED. he’s empty. he’s not looking for happiness, he’s looking for safety. for peace. he’s long since given up on any happy ending and all the hope he has left is in sammy and burgers and hot chicks because it’s the little things in life that make him feel like he’s somewhere he belongs, somewhere safe.
#oc#supernatural#spn meta#dean winchester#sam winchester#dean and sam#i am in pain and looking to make it everyone’s problem#to me this is a reading of his combat PTSD#he’s too broken down to crave normal human things anymore#i doubt he has any coherent sense of self left it’s just his brain yelling Safety Safety Safety and him seeking out the feeling
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he went to the water
#do you think it makes him feel safe? like the water was his safe place at the federation#or safer than being with cucurucho#do you think the water brings him a feeling of safety or does it make him feel like he’s back there#do you think it’s both?#i think his feelings about the pool are complicated and his seeking safety in the water will do more harm than good long term because he#wont be able to move on from the mindset he had while he was at the federation#but what do i know this is all entirely conjecture at this point
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I think about Sakko an unhealthy amount.
Who is he, where did he come from? Talking monkeys aren't THAT common. How does he know engineering? How did he and Skeleton King meet? How did he get paired up with Jinmay?
He and Mandarin escape the Citadel of Bone in S2xEp1, but Mandarin is back with Skeleton King by the time we reach Versus Chiro. We don't see Sakko again until Incident on Ranger 7.
PRESUMABLY, Mandarin and Sakko split ways after escaping. Mandarin goes back to SK (look where that got him) and Sakko goes SOMEWHERE, to eventually be arrested.
What was he doing? When did he get arrested?
This haunts me.
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