does this need any other warnings

anonymous asked:

Okay, but what about that one student who just does everything *wrong*? They use their real name, never carry iron or salt, eat the fae food, and acknowledge fae? But they always end up fine, left untouched. Despite their gregarious nature, they have few if any close friends. Most students think they're either fae in disguise or a spy, tricking others into doing things they may regret later. But one things for certain, they never seem to graduate

They seem to know the librarians by name, which in and of itself is a warning sign. They keep changing majors because they just need to ‘figure some stuff out’. No one knows how old they are. 

You wouldn’t wish any harm to this smol ginger fox would you?

Originally posted by aglasshalf-fullofme

Originally posted by phototoartguy

Originally posted by pagewoman

So stop wishing harm to my smol ginger fox son, Lucien. 

AsuRei: The Dynamic's Importance

Much can be said, but is often overlooked about the dynamic of the two characters Asuka and Rei. Most of what can be said from others’ perspective is that they are opposites. However in what way are the two opposites?

I. Brief Analysis of Asuka’s Character

a.Understanding her Character

b. Should Her Actions be Defended?

II. Brief Analysis of Rei’s Character.

a. Understanding her Character

III. Where Do the Opposites Come In?

IV. Conclusion

(Warning: If any mentions of Asushin give you the squicks, please turn back. However, if it does not, go right ahead and read).

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Nicko & Alaska at my local bird hangout a while ago. Alaska truly thrives during these meetups - she loves attention and she loves other birds. It’s her fav thing. 
Nicko likes it too, he’s a fan of them birbs (he does his little dance and his musically squeaky chatter beeps whenever another bird approaches him) but he’s kinda shy so he prefers just being on me or in the corner of the room, observing and charming everyone with his obnoxious ringneck sounds. :’)

Oh, and as always, I’d rather not post meetup pics without the super important warning/disclaimer:
Please do take note that these kinds of bird meetups should/need to take every possible precaution, like vet checkups, only allowing birds who have been with their current owner for at least 30 days (and have not had any contact with other new birds), etc. Our lil’ bird community only allows people from the private Facebook group (+ friends and family) too, so we always know who’s going to be there. 
…And there’s STILL a risk of something going wrong! They could be attacked, attack another bird, or get into a fight, but perhaps most importantly, they could be exposed to diseases or sick birds without anyone knowing.
I personally estimate the risks quite small in comparison to the positivity in the vast enrichment and environmental variation, and the training/socializing opportunities - but I AM aware of the risks and, though hopefully not, prepared for the vet bills I could potentially bring onto myself by letting my birds hang out with strangers’ birds.
This is all SO important to know before you consider a bird meeting type situation for yourself. It’s super lovely for you and if your bird likes it, it’s sooo fun and enriching for them too - but be careful. And even when careful, know the risks. Thank you.


So, Homestuck updated. You might want to watch it before reading further, if you care about such things. Warning: Analysis. Before I was a webcomic reviewer, I was Homestuck trash. 

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Submission formatting request:

Hey y’all, if you could keep this in mind for any future submissions:

If you’re submitting via ask, all you need to do is make sure your quote is in “quotes” (like so). You don’t need to preface it with something like, “here’s a submission”. I just think it looks better aesthetically if we drop off a little bit of the extra stuff. You can still include other info like, who said it or what system it is or whatever context you feel is appropriate.

Secondly, if you think there is a trigger warning that is appropriate for your submission that our submission system does not offer, if you could just put a “#(trigger) tw” for whatever it is before or after your submission that would be cool. That way I can put it in the tags, and it will be on the post, and the blog will be a little safer for everyone.

I’d like to emphasize that I’m not asking everyone to second guess everything they submit for triggers. Just if you’re submitting a quote and you’re already conscious of the need for a trigger and you wanna use one, that’s the format I want you to use. Only 10% of my submitting audience will probably see this though, so like don’t even sweat it if you don’t comply with either of these formatting request.

Thank you and have lovely day.

I’m sorry

Originally posted by regisxfilia

Originally posted by mefistofeles-faust

Summary. *Imagine meeting Dean in hell*

This is a continuation of No place like hell.

Pairing: Dean x reader

*I felt like I needed to put some WARNING with this one because it does get dark. This chapter has torture- physical and mental. This story as a whole gets, well, hellish. Deals with torture and the after-effects. *

Word Count: 2009

Empty Gold by Halsey

“We’re the underdogs in this world alone.” ~ Halsey

Red light filtered out of the wet, undulating ceiling while I was drug by my ankles through the interweaving maze of halls in my little section of hell. Some brave souls were peeking out at me but I could not see any other features except for their eyes and the random pair of hands reaching for something I could not see. The fear and desperation I saw in those haunted eyes always made me close my own to block them out. Just more windows to another tortured soul, some more broken than I.

There were only a handful of times where I saw eyes filled with glee as they watched my damaged body being dragged by. I didn’t want to think about anyone else’s pain, so strangely those were the eyes I preferred. I could no longer help anyone and my pain was enough. It sounds selfish and I knew it was but it was the only way I knew to survive down here. Even though on most days, I didn’t know what I was surviving for.

I finally made it to my little slice of hell and the manacles were thrown back into place, snapping my bones like a sweet kiss on the cheek. Honey, I’m home!

Small miracles do exist down here because I passed out almost immediately.

I awoke to the door creaking open and instead of just the cracking whip and growling cackle, there were groans. Human groans. A man was flung in beside me and shackled to the wall. I heard his hiss as the ancient, rusty cuffs slammed against his wrist, and then the all too familiar crack of his bone.

It soon grew quiet as the cackle faded down the hall. It didn’t take long to realize it was the same man from before but I just listened to his breathing and didn’t say a word.  

He was the one to initiate conversation this time after hours of lying in the balmy, lonely atmosphere.

“What were you taking responsibility for?” His voice was quiet but thankfully missing the sounds that made me gag on memories.

“What?” I knew what he was asking but I played dumb just the same.

“Why did you make the deal?”

“Why did you make the deal?” It was childish but I wasn’t exactly in a trusting place.

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She stands upon the soils of the Imperium, daring any to comment

on her ears—-on what she is—-by simply existing. She is beautiful,

this she knows, and the slavers have been eyeing her on the roads,

waiting for a moment of weakness. When they close in on her, she

smiles, eyes revealing naught but reflection. “I am warning you now:

turn back and leave. You will not have me. This need not be a blood

bath.” If any are blood mages, the irony of the statement does not escape


When they use their slurs she smiles still and shakes her head. They are

upon her all at once & she simply stands, back straight and head held

high. “We of old are much stronger than you silly fools dream of.” And in

a blink the temperature drops, little crystals forming in the air. The cold 

creeps onto them, gripping their arms and legs in an icy grasp. Some

scream. Others beg for mercy. “You will freeze from the inside and outside;

you will have a storm that matches my rage.”

She watches the five, unmoved as they struggle, until one begs for home.

Begs for his children. It is that one she chooses to let go, trembling and

shaking. The others are crystalized now and he takes no chance. Running,

he leaves her behind with the four sculptures, and Estrasa sighs. There is

an audience. “Mythal preserve me—-Am I going to regret remembering to

have mercy?”