#(this concept cheers me up immensely)

[yellingmetatron]

I have decided: This donkey now lives with Metatron. They have very similar temperaments and it cheers him up when he is sad by attempting to eat his tie and other such general chicanery.

Just so you all know, the donkey that Moses rode fleeing Egypt for Ethiopia is traditionally held in certain rabbinic opinion to be the same one one that carried Abraham. This means the donkey would have been over 430 years old at the time. This same donkey is also the one that will carry the Messiah into Jerusalem. Implicitly, then, we have a roughly 4000 year old sacred donkey out there biding its time if one is of the opinion that the Messiah has not yet come. If you call Jesus the Messiah and also hold to rabbinic tradition, the donkey would have only been a bit under 2000 years old at the time, but Jesus might well ride the same donkey into Jerusalem a second time, so it could still be out there.

Words cannot describe how much I love this eternal sacred donkey as a concept. I say this with complete sincerity and delight in my heart. I want a movie made about this donkey.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Oh, my God, of course you can, dear. And to make it interesting to read, make sure that Alastor makes a deal with Bill (that is, with us) 👏

Awesome! Thanks, love! I’m on it. Alastor x Bill Cipher! Reader/Us, genderneutral! I know I’ve been busy but sadly, life gets in the way as much as writer block does. Sorry that this is bad, Bill and Alastor being the best toxic ‘partners’ go brrrrr~

Alastor- the Weirdmageddon

Alastor is infamously known as the strongest, the greatest, the most influential Overlord in Hell’s history… but his power is much more artificial than people ever suspected, yet. He also refuses to accept that as a fact, he wants to believe his power is his. It was only boosted by the figure who owns him, not granted by the figure who owns him

Sadly… that’s not the case. He’s only overwhelmingly authoritative because of you, called under the simple name ‘Cipher’. Making a deal with you, you granted him a alternately-sourced chunk of your immense power in exchange for him serving you as you please

As mutual give and take partners in crime

Alastor despises it… he despises being chained. He despises being the servant of a demonic entity so above him that they can turn him into a decoration banner with a snap of their fingers. Said demonic entity, being you, is a multidimensional threat that Hell had never seen

Often shaped in the form of a big limbed floating one eyed triangle, you’ve never shown your true form. It makes you terrifying in reality; nobody, not even Alastor knows your power’s true vast limits. Alastor always remembers the day he had sold his soul to you so fluently

In 1937, deep within Hell almost four years after his earth-life death, where Alastor barely had any position, any power, any recognition, any influence within this agitating city full of prissy high-ranks. He had to figure out a way to get what he wanted so he stumbled his way upon a library that had a eyecatching journal consisting a number of odd concepts, unknown mysteries but he only cares about one thing

Cipher

A extremely powerful demonic entity, it’s unknown if they are a human soul or a hellborn manifested by Lucifer himself. Either way, they are so strong that a number of this thick dark old journal has urgent warnings of the following ‘do NOT summon at all causes’. Alastor had never been a man to follow the rules, he follows himself so he took that journal and under the cover of the blackish-red night

The soon-to-be-Radio Demon had set up a summoning ritual, consisting of a picture of a victim of choice with crossed out eyes, 8 lit candles placed in a circle as well as the incantation: "Triangulum, entangulum. meteforis dominus ventium”. Alastor knew this was pathetic, a waste of time but if he could possibly steal this Cipher’s power

He’d be unstoppable

As soon as he had finished the incantation, it felt like something had possessed him in that split second of a breath and forced him to mindlessly but passionately repeat another unknown backwards message repetitively dropped down onto a knee by a invisible force

Over and over in a menacing manner until the realm around him turned a slate gray, time slowed down instantaneously and a fiery-ringed triangle-shaped black portal manifested in the space above. Out popped you with a malicious insane laugh upon manifesting properly into existence

It actually worked! In like a blink, Alastor had successfully summoned his new victim! Cipher or you, in your triangle shapeshifted demonic form, floating down before him with an invisible grin. You speak up with a strong charming smooth tone of telepathy, you’re much smaller than he suspected. Whilst he snapped out of the weird brief ‘possession’ trance to gain back his composure and grace as a gentleman

“Wow. It’s been a while since I’ve even seen Hell! Hey, you’re a new face. Name’s Cipher. Tell me, are you the brand new dinner? Haha! I’m just kidding. I know who you are, Alastor”

You chime out with a cheerful almost child-like glee despite your obvious insanity, tipping off your cute tophat to him in a charming hats-off style bow. Floating before him effortlessly and your single huge eye following his every movements. Alastor may not be under the position he desires but he doesn’t fear you, he will take you out

He genuinely believes he has a chance to manipulate you into serving him… how up his ass he was to think so

“Enough, ‘dream demon’. I don’t have time to play your games when time is tight. I need you to work for me. As partners in crime, perhaps. A beneficial deal, we grant each other power and influence as well as find victims”

Alastor is very sharp-tongued, witty. He’s a good talker, he knows how to trick even the most suspicious people into believing him and siding him and he plans to exploit you and your immense power to take for his own. You’re an old smudge of the past, he deserves that power more than you do

“Ah. I’ve never had such a companion to rule this Realm with. I suppose, I can give your offer a chance if you help me with my something too”

You are not that easily tricked at all, you’re pretending to be. Pretending to be persuaded by Alastor’s charms, with only a few seconds of thinking beforehand. Since you’re equally as good at tricking and sly-talk, you can see the way the deer demon’s blood red eyes shine with delight from under his demeanour. You know he believes you’re more of a joke than that journal says you are

You can hear his thoughts clear as the next day… you know what he truly wants from you and he won’t get it. He won’t get it since you’ll take his soul as you do to everybody who summons you

“Deer teeth! Enjoy, my dear gentleman”

Where the Heaven did you get those? He had looked down at his own radio microphone for like a few seconds as to internally compose his next statement to subtly pressure you further into doing as he needs. Suddenly, you have a pile of freshly removed but in-that hell deer teeth in your soft smaller hands and you offer the pile to Alastor without even asking him or even letting him speak in response

Alastor doesn’t flinch at the fact he’s holding the teeth of a innocent yet cannibalistic doe or buck but the fact you dare to think he even has use with this so he glares right at you, cracking his infamous sharp yet dapper toothy grin and drops the pile on the floor. He’s bold enough to disrespect you since he believes you are now under him

You don’t even respond, just calmly and quietly floating before him with your big eye blinking sparsely at his rather harsh choice. You don’t mind that, it makes you laugh in-fact. You laugh almost a bit immaturely at him rejecting your ‘friendly gift’. You just know that he is a damn fool for thinking the way he is, you can see EVERYTHING

“I’m looking forward to playing with a pretty little face like yours~ hey? Is that skin natural or do you use face cream~”

Was… that your attempt at flirting? It seemed like it, pitiful. Your tone shifted briefly to a flirty smoother one and you leant your hand on your own… uh, triangle flat ‘cheek’. You’re doing it to amuse yourself, you don’t have much opinions of your new soul and only desire to get a reaction. However, you won’t deny… Alastor is a handsome man~

“Nonsense. What I may have is nothing compared to your radiant beauty. Look at you, so unique and important that this city fears you~ it’s my honour to work with you”

Alastor is using more subtle but fake flirting as to entice you, make you associate him with the concept of ‘reliable’ and a ‘friend’ piece by piece. He needs it, he needs to ensure you’re under his charms so you’ll give up your power to him and work for him as his owned soul

He was too clouded by his own confidence over his capabilities to realise you weren’t manipulated into being trapped under his thumb… even when he made that darn deal. He didn’t realise the deal you and him shook hands on that night wasn’t for your soul, it was for his… until too late. You gave him significant amount of power that he became the most powerful Overlord ever known in Hell, and he became your servant

The advantages and the disadvantages of being owned by you, Cipher

Leading him to where he is now, the current year. Parked up in the Hazbin Hotel to seek his own entertainment further. Alastor is on top of Pentagram City, everybody fears him, he owns several other demons, he’s incredibly infamous and terrifying but he had to give up his own soul and he had to rely on you to become so great…

He’s ashamed. He’s humiliated. But he won’t let anybody know the truth about him. Alastor may regret ever picking up that hastily-written mess of a journal almost eighty years ago but he doesn’t really regret what you’ve done for him

You’ve given him a vastly powerful position by just handing over a flame of your supremacy, you’ve given him the afterlife he desired and he supposes with honestly, little payment in return. Just his soul… you’ve let him stand where he is now, up in his Radio Tower. On the air but inbetween a commercial break, as to check over his script

The silence sends him back to that night so long ago, reminding him almost painfully what becoming your partner in crime has befallen on him… it’s bad but it’s good. It’s torturous yet therapeutic. He doesn’t truly know how to feel about his situation— he should be focusing on his show

You could be so much worse to deal with on a monthly basis. You are kinda charming. He KINDA likes you

[thrashkink-coven]

When I approached Ra I was apprehensive. I don’t like the idea of supremacy. I don’t jive with the concept of kingship, and my past relationship with Christianity has made me shy away from all things “Father God”. I like the freedom of choice and self discovery that I’ve found in entities like Lucifer.

But Ra is helping me heal, and in him I’m starting to find that the divine masculine isn’t so scary after all. I thought because of his nobility and position as a king, he would be harsh and picky, but he’s starting to help me understand what it really means to be a God of kings. It doesn’t mean being served and obeyed just because you should, it means being such a great and supportive leader that people want to follow you. And as a father, a good father, Ra never raises his voice at his children. He gives them the best advice because he wants them to succeed. I didn’t feel like I “owed” him respect. I just wanted to, I wanted to be around him and learn from him. I wanted to trust in his leadership and I wanted to make him proud. That’s very new for me. Having grown up without a father, I’ve never understood what that feels like.

Ra reminds me of the beauty and strength of powerful men. Men who protect and lead and encourage, men who nurture. Men who use their strength to create rather than destroy. Men who are honest and know how to love.

Ra is warm (of course) and incredibly, indescribably powerful, but also so soft. So gentle. And lively, cheerful. A smiling God. He doesn’t need to be stern and cold to summon those feelings of immense respect and honour of being in his presence. He laughs and he accepts offerings with such appreciation.

Today I gave him an offering of bread with some peanut butter and water. It’s the first one I’ve ever given. And I was overwhelmed with this feeling of him being pleasantly surprised by the peanut butter. As if he was saying “oh! Bread AND peanut butter! This is a treat!”

And something about that made me feel particularly softened. You’re the king of the Gods, the blazing burning Sun that gives all life to Earth, and yet you’re pleasantly surprised by a little peanut butter. Lol.

Today was the first time I called upon Ra for protection. I did a modified banishment of the Hexagram and called to him in his many faces, along with Horus cleanse my space and aura. I’ve never felt so confident in a protection ritual. The pure blazing energy of the sun sanitizes everything it touches. As I hummed each syllable of his holy names I felt him smiling on me. He seems to like singing and humming a lot. It was the first time I’ve ever felt right ending a prayer with “Amen”.

I could feel Mother Isis looking on us too, she seemed relieved that I’ve finally found them. Something about all this feels like coming home.

☀️

[mimisempai]

The daggers

Summary

A dagger can be sharp, so let's not talk about two daggers... but despite its sharpness, it can sometimes be the tangible proof of an unbreakable bond.

Mobius kept Loki's daggers. He carries them with him at all times, and locks them up in the evening after taking care of them. The only physical evidence of Loki's presence in his life.

But the daggers are also a daily reminder of the gaping hole the god's absence has dug in Mobius' heart.

For @rin-love-is-green

For the @lokiusbang Story based on @rin-love-is-green prompt and beautiful drawings you'll see through the story on Ao3 ann on her tumblr Beta'ed by Sabine

4/4 chapters - 6045 words Rating : G

The rapid tapping of keys echoed through the dimly lit open office of the T.V.A. as Mobius hunched over his desk, his eyes glued to the glowing screen. He was putting the finishing touches on the mission report he and his team had just completed. 

Another timeline repaired, and he felt a sense of satisfaction that the T.V.A., once on the verge of collapse, was coming back to life, giving meaning to the lives connected to its intricate network of timelines. Each mission accomplished was a small patch on the immense wound left by the revelation of all the lives the T.V.A. had previously cut short. All the lies.

"Hey, Mobius!" 

Casey's voice snapped him out of his thoughts, the agent always bright and cheerful now. He was standing by Mobius's desk, a broad smile on his face as he continued, "It's good to see the T.V.A. up and running again. I'm glad to be more involved in missions now, while I'm still here of course, I'm not cut out for field operations, I'll leave that to you guys. But I'm happy to be a force you can count on."

Mobius gave him a small smile in return. 

"Yes, things are looking up. Who would have thought that the T.V.A. debacle would reveal the hidden talents of some of our team members, hm?"

Mobius winked at him before adding, "People we'd barely noticed before. Make no mistake, you're a force we know we can count on, Casey."

Casey smiled happily.

"Well, I have to go, good night Mobius, see you tomorrow."

"See you tomorrow, Casey."

Casey walked away under Mobius' amused gaze and disappeared down the hallway with a final wave of his hand.

Before Mobius could resume his work, O.B. appeared, a whirlwind of ideas and excitement, and as always, Mobius could only listen.

"Mobius! You've got to come see me tomorrow. I have a concept for a new device that could..."

"A new concept?"

Mobius raised an eyebrow and O.B. nodded quickly, "Oh, it's revolutionary! You'll understand when you see it, but it's about adding a principle of..."

"O.B. Mobius doesn't have time to listen to this!"

It was Casey who had returned, and Mobius watched their interaction with an interested and amused eye.

"But what if it's vital to what happens next!"

"Yes, I know, but he doesn't have time now."

"But..."

"I have time now, so why don't you come and explain it to me."

"But I..."

"Over a meal in the cafeteria."

"Casey..."

"I'm sure you skipped lunch again."

O.B., seeing that he wouldn't have the last word, sighed.

"All right..."

"Come on, let's go."

Casey and O.B. said together, "Bye Mobius!" and then left the open office. As they walked away, Mobius heard their conversation fade away.

"So O.B. tell me about this new concept?"

"Well, you know, Casey, I was just thinking..."

Mobius realized how much things had changed around here. His two friends and colleagues had grown closer and Mobius wondered just how close, a strange knot forming in his stomach. What was behind their camaraderie? Was it just friendship or something deeper, something unfolding like the mysterious timelines they so often crossed?

Like what he had with... what he could have had with...

Read the complete story here on Ao3

Lokius masterlist : here

[cosmogify]

Friday Night Fightin - BF Reference Sheet!

Been going back and forth of adding this silly guy into the rgbfverse and just decided "fuck it". I throw you Mikey, the angel singer combatant.

Friday Night Fightin GF Ref Sheet

Friday Night Fightin Pico Ref Sheet

Name: Mikey Angel

Nickname: Mic, Chichi (like, chihuahua)

Birthday: 2nd April (so close)

Age: 25 (the midget's 25???)

Orientation: Panromantic asexual

Species: Angel creature thing

Height: 5'0 ft (SHORT AHH me who's 4'11)

Weight: 80 lbs (due to having anorexia) (body envy is scary)

Voice: Just normal BF chromatics but with statics here and there from vocal straining. Screams similar to Whitty.

Relationship Status: Dating

Family: Garrett Angel (father), Medana Anděl (mother, they have a picture frame of her with a small vase of flowers and had passed away early in his years)

Partner(s): Stacie Daemon (fightin!GF), Derrick Dino (fightin!Pico) (Stacie's boyfriend)

Friends: Neena Arachnes (fightin!Nene), Darnell Phoenix (fightin!Darnell), Skid Skelly and Pump Pumpkin (fightin!SkidandPump)

Acquaintances: John Dino (fightin!Tankman), Marco Daemon (fightin!DaddyDearest), Janice Daemon (fightin!MommyMearest)

Enemies/Rivals: Derrick Dino (they clash in playfighting a lot), Ayumu Obake (fightin!Senpai)

Personality: A hyperactive individual, even when alone. Constantly on his feet, he will never go a day without singing his lungs out or initiating a battle (purposeful and accidental), whether that's with his fists, rap skills or a silly game of rock paper scissors. If you beat him in Rock, Paper, Scissors he will instantly see ya as a homie. Although he's positive in almost every situation, he's also heavily blunt with his words and says shit in front of his challenger's face to taunt them. He thinks and knows he's the shit when fighting someone, so he tends to come out very prideful or standoff-ish whenever he wins. Despite this, he takes his losses with high spirits, cheering for his challenger and hypes the both of them for a future battle. Despite dating GF and Pico in extension to her, he never cared much nor did he understand the concepts of romance, however he does deeply care for the two of them like he does with his parents, and thinks of the two as family and will show just as much affection. Oh, and people compared him to a chihuahua a lot. Despite his hyperactiveness, he cares a lot about boundaries and would usually talk a few feet away from someone (knowing how loud he is himself, people can hear him just fine). He can be mature when he needs to, but is extremely difficult to stay that way without immense fidgeting on his arm bands, halo and tail. He cannot sit still for his life.

Personality flaw: He rarely thinks before he acts, but whenever he does it's usually when a person he cares was in distress or from seeing his reflection. He's extremely stubborn to not acknowledge his eating disorder and body envy towards the people around him. He would comment of how ugly his figure is without thinking at times, which makes his friends and loved ones worry about him by accident. His hyperactive body also detriments him, being extremely fidgety and no matter how much energy he used up through the day he would still be too restless to sleep and ends up sleep deprived the next day, which is why it is one of the main reasons he thinks that food was a problem, despite having nothing but water half the time. He has been trying to calm his hyperactivity down by participating in slow hobbies but no luck so far.

Likes: Rock and punk music, singing, battles, rock paper scissors, winning, his family, his homies, playing guitar, side hugs, high energy activities, running in the rain, words of affirmation.

Dislikes: Food, flavoured drinks (he would vomit due to tasting like fruit), coffee (used to be a coffee addict when he was younger, now despises it with every fiber of his being), being reminded of his body and weight, mirrors.

Powers: Mic whip and stand melee (basic combo attacks), Mic stand sweep and dash (heavy combo attacks), Wing jump (uses his wings to jump high and fly in the air), Arrow soundwaves (screams into his mic tail to create a piercing soundwave at a certain direction), Mic ground pound (bashes his mic to the ground to create a shockwave around him when dashing down), Telekinesis (only uses it on his mic stand and other small items), Guitar manifest (His mic stand shapeshifts into an electric guitar and shreds the arena stage with a sick tune, knocking back enemies and does small continuous damage), Teleportation (Uses his halo to open a portal, he cannot jump through AUs with it).

Backstory:

Ares, the world where myths, folklore and tales overpopulate the planet. Harpies and dragons soaring through the air, giants roam the mountains as people of the deep sea rule the waters. Human was never a concept in this universe, and yet they're often quite emotional for such mystical beings. Their beliefs in plain sight through their entire existence.

Mikey and his family were no different. Throughout his younger years he was very much known to be a shy kid. His father didn't bother to take note of that, too busy protecting him from any type of harm after his late mother passed away. Of course, since he was an angel, his thoughts had reasoned him that he was the reason she passed. She had given her life to him, and he must repent in unconditional love to his family. It wasn't out of pessimism, it was only a matter of fact. Through this, he would idolise his father, wanting to follow his examples and become a great guardian angel just like him.

7 years old

As he walked to his school and past the university, he couldn't help but indulge in the sin of envy as he watched the older students walking along the pavement and from the crossroads. They were all adorned in handsome or gorgeous clothing, accessories, makeup, whatever fashion style you can think of, and above all else were their body physiques. He can't help but envy them. Heavens, even looking through his own family photos he was envious of how well dressed they were.

Unconsciously, he hugged himself by the sides, standing next to the stop sign as traffic continued in front of him. All he was wearing was a plain polo shirt with shorts and clean blue hair. He shouldn't be thinking something so sinful like this but here he is, jealous of the people around him. He…he needs to do something about this. He remembers his dad always drinking coffee whenever he worked in his office room, it seemed to be what had helped him to get through the day, maybe it would help him as well…

13 years old

He had been drinking the beverage almost daily, for all 3 meals. The caffeine had helped him exponentially, it had made him more energetic, more outgoing, more social. It made him curious of multiple hobbies he had never considered trying. He had made many friends with his classmates and people outside of school, he even made his dad pay attention to him and smile for longer than 1 second.

He had been riding this high for so long he never noticed the side effects at first, his mind obsessed in the world of dueling, a well known and beloved sport amongst various creatures. He would take any opportunity to participate in one, every match being different than the last. He felt accepted in a way, he wouldn't trade this feeling for the world.

15 years old

He felt awful.

Everywhere on his body felt awful, it felt like he had puked everything and his stomach out of him. He had tears fall uncontrollably from his eyes, had he hurt someone? Of course he did, why would someone hate him if he hadn't hurt them. He didn't even know who he had hurt. But right now he felt too weak in the little bathroom he'll be occupying for the rest of the night, he felt his growing tail curling behind him.

This was his punishment, wasn't it. He had engulfed himself in the sins of gluttony, envy and pride, and now he's paying for them immensely. His father looked so ashamed of raising such a child, he should've let nature take its course, he should've just gone with the flow like the other angels. If he did, he wouldn't be in such a state right now.

He needed to go for a run, he can't…bear staying still like this. But he deserved it. He knew this.

19 years old

A duel ring tournament had started again this New Year. His halo hummed as it reflects the summer rays, his tail swaying behind him with an overwhelming excitement to each swing. Right! New year, new him! He fiddles with the spiked bracelets on his wrists as he waits in line to enter the tournament.

"Mikey?"

A familiar voice had perked his ears up as his entire body practically spun towards the direction he heard it from.

"St-Stacie?"

The New Year tournament was being held at his college sports field, and only the students attending it can participate.

"Oh my gosh, Mic! It really is you!"

"W-Wait a minute-!"

She would pace herself into a girly jog, with Mikey unable to react fast enough he was quickly swept off his feet into a tight bear hug, causing a scene in the line. If Stacie's here doesn't that mean-.

"Oi we're in public, Stace. We are not getting fucking kicked out the moment we got here, for fuck's sake."

As expected, Derrick was right behind her as he picked up the both of them from the 1v1 participation line. Once they were in an unoccupied spot, the dino finally sets his partner and old friend down.

"Oh come on dearie, aren't you also excited to see him?"

To prove her point, she softly pinched the bewildered angel's cheeks pulled them gently, accentuating his adorableness.

"H-Hey! Cut it out man, it hurts!"

He patted the pinching hands away from his face but couldn't hold in the giggle from his initial shock. Honestly, he didn't expect his two old friends to be his seniors, but at the same time relieved to see them again after 4…5 years? But the most unexpected was they were now chatting with each other as if his sudden absence had never happened, talking about each other's subspecies and online gossip (mostly from Stacie) on social media. Of course, their light hearted reunion had to end soon.

"I'm probably not the best person to be sayin' this and all, but ya look…ugh, fuck it, ya look like you'll snap in half in a second. Is…everythin' alright back home, Mic?"

Ouch, that…slightly stung, Mikey had to admit. Sure he was blunt himself, but Dee takes the whole cigarette and drags it like it's honey to his lungs. However, it was obvious that the reptilian meant well. He can't blame him for mentioning the obvious.

"Derrick, that was rude!"

"I'm sorry sweets but I had to say it out."

"At least frame it nicely.."

"H-Hey guys! It's fine, really!"

His two close friends looked back at him with both concern and wariness. Mikey never really talked much about his family to them, only hearing the obvious admiration he has to his father. Despite the many good things he had spouted about his old man, they didn't exactly bought it, even if they were genuine. Almost out of habit, he rubbed the back of his neck, fiddling with his choker nervously.

"Uhm, so you guys are also taking part in the tournament?"

He was deflecting them, making the two all the more worried of their close friend and crush. As much as they want to push on the sensitive matter, today is supposed to be a joyful occasion for the New Year. With reluctant looks between the dating couple, they decided to go along instead, lest they'd lose him again like before.

"Oh, yea. We were just about to head over to the 3v3 line and planned to find our last teammate after booking!"

"Wait, don't they usually asked for names first before booking?"

"Well, yes..! Oh! Buuut if you join us then we'll have a full team again to take part! Don't you agree, Dee?"

It was surprisingly good luck in disguise when they received that sudden text from their missing teammate being unable to join. She lightly fluttered her lashes at her partner in a mocking plea, to which she was given with an eye roll and a small smile (ignore the slight blush to his cheeks).

"Yea, yea I do. You'd bring em along anyway without me needing to say shit really."

"Hehe, oh you know me too well hun!"

"Uh, hellooo?! Don't I get a say in this?"

Out of exaggeration, Mikey pointed at himself with an offended look of being ignored by the couple. Stacie couldn't help but giggle and grabbed his hand gently, their fingers intertwining perfectly together. With a bright smile on her face, you'd almost forget she's a demon.

"Nope!"

Almost.

Although he wouldn't admit it right now, it was nice to see these two again, glad even. Hopefully he doesn't mess up their friendship again like before. He'll need to try at least.

Additional notes:

You can add different piercings and face accessories on him if ya like.

His other eye is there, it's just under his halo.

The scars are optional since they're only battle scars

His wire tail can extend pretty far hehe

I actually don't listen to heavy metal WHEEZE

[denim-wizard]

ALL HAIL THE SNAIL !!! The One, The Only, the ass kicking, wire tapping, telepathic snail pirate-- they're here to eat raw lettuce and bench press ships: EVERYBODY GIVE IT UP FOR CALYPSO!!! ((Booming Crowd Cheer SFX))

Ok to be very for real, this originally started as a complete joke concept... but I've grown to love this character immensely. The first fan character I make in half a decade and it's a One Piece OC. Luckily im not the only one-- I hope to be posting more about the little fan crew me and some good friends have made, with each of us having our own weirdos to flesh out the ranks. For now, a little bit about Cal ! Former member of the Sun Pirates, now set off on their own adventure with a rookie crew, Calypso is a sea snail fishman who serves as a first mate, informant slash tactician, and emergency navigator. Their snail heritage gives them the unique ability to tap into the telepathic frequencies of den den mushi, and their penchant for digging up secrets without explanation has given them quite the reputation as some sort of oracle.... and they're more than fine with not correcting people on it.

For (eventually?) more about Calypso, their toyhou.se page can be found here!

[7grandmel]

Rip of the Week: 01/07/2024

Barreltr​ü​ckung of Doom

Season 8 Featured on: The Joke​-​Explainer 7000​™​'s Highest Quality Rips: Sunrise

Ripped by Madinstance

Tentative rip name: KNUCKLES (Smaragdwächter)

I pondered long and hard about this post, of what rip to make it about - I'm sort of back in the groove of things after my break, and I'm happy to see people are enjoying the graudally-increasing trickle of variety posts already, but I also feel as if I'm still regaining my footing in how to pick these rips for the blog. Alas, amidst all the requests and the all-time classics, I do inevitably hold recency bias close to my heart - bias you've already seen with rips like Last Freight-train Night, and that rears its head once again with Barreltr​ü​ckung of Doom. Because no matter what happens to me or the blog, I am but merely a Sonic fan, an Undertale enjoyer, and an absolute CONNOISSEUR for Madinstance's work. The madlad's done it again.

Like, look - I've featured the guy so many times before, I've featured Undertale music on here so many times more than even that, blah blah, blah blah...can you sincerely blame me for picking this one? Madinstance has been featured on here plenty for their incredible arrangements like M-O-O-G City and Thwâmpröck Desert, and I've always sort of taken them as the kind of ripper who puts their heart and soul into rips of games and music that they genuinely just care tons about, most evident with their Minecraft tributes like Fell From a High Place (Reprise). But lately it feels as if that view may have been wrong - or Madinstance is just growing as a ripper to where they're becoming willing to take on any arranging project so long as it sounds cool. Honestly though, I can't blame them with a concept as sick as this - meshing together prototype Carnival music from a Genesis Sonic game with Undertale boss music is the kind of lunatic concept that I don't know how one comes up with but also wouldn't be able to help myself to pursue.

There have been a lot of times where I've worried that I've covered too *much* Undertale music for the blog...but the more I sit on it, the more I realize just how core Undertale's music is to both SiIva's viewers and its rippers. Undertale blew up just a short few months before the SiIvaGunner channel itself did, and its fans have thus grown in almost direct parallel with SiIvaGunner's own fans - and on top of that, Toby Fox is the exact kind of online meme freak that SiIvaGunner itself attracts the most. Is it any surprise that we've had banging Undertale arrangements on SiIva like Hoopache, SUNGORE, and indeed Madinstance's very own Fell From a High Place (Reprise), since the very beginning of the channel, from just about every one of the team's rippers? Undertale is endlessly beloved, and moreover - endlessly versatile for arrangements, its leitmotifs and melodies so well known as to becoming a series of online anthems all in their own rights.

Compared to the more popular tunes like Megalovania and Death By Glamour, it feels as if ASGORE doesn't get as much attention from remixers and rippers. And perhaps that was part of what made me fall head over heels in love with Barreltr​ü​ckung of Doom right from the moment go - it shows such a profound respect and understanding for not just the original ASGORE theme, but the iconic Bergentrückung prelude that introduces the battle, here weaving the two together damn seamlessly in the rip's intro. It's immensely impressive just how atmospheric and intense the rip still sounds despite, again, it's baseline track being the borderline juvenile carnival music used in Sonic 3's recently-unearthed prototype versions, a series of cheerful clapping samples introducing the track yet never overriding the emotional sincerity of the melody leading the rip. I feel like the emotion in large part also just comes from how fucking cool of a sound Sonic 3's music in general has, a lead synth that sounds unlike anything else on the genesis playing a sort of melodic back-and-fourth with a second synth lead that sounds just as distinct yet far more chipper and bright, almost reminding me of something from Rivals of Aether...? The back-and-fourth feel is an amazing touch either way, is the point!

Barreltr​ü​ckung of Doom's final touch, of course, comes toward the finale, the section in which the original ASGORE battle theme takes a step back from its intensity to reflect, a calm in the midst of the storm. Madinstance brilliantly uses this interlude to throw a complete curveball that still fits the arrangement perfectly: using samples and sounds from the *finalized* Carnival Night Zone theme, the one created by Michael Jackson's soundteam, and featuring that distinct glass shattering sample from Jam. I talk about escalation in rips a fair bit on here, but it wasn't as it the rip was in any need of it here anyway given how amazing the arrangement already was. It's just the sort of thing that pushes the rip from great to godlike, the kind of touch you'd mainly expect to see from a Sonic the Hedgehog superfan committed to their rip, akin to what MtH did with Youkoso Twinkle Park e. But again - perhaps, somehow, I've underestimated just how far Madinstance will go once they've landed on a concept they truly click with. Season 8 may well be the silly season in many ways, but it's all too clear that each one of the team's rippers are growing more powerful by the day.

[shalscumbunny]

Way to love

Summary: There are ways to love apparently, because you and Shalnark undoubtedly have different concepts of love despite having known each other for exactly one year.

Pairing: Shalnark X F.Reader

Warnings: Kidnapped reader, violent acts, toxic relationship and beginnings of stockholm syndrome

Author’s note: I always mention it in all my writings in English, but better safe than sorry, English is not my native language so it is very likely to find many mistakes and also that I know practically nothing about writing “X character and Y / n”

Sites: AO3

Love is horribly insufferable, a rung adrift, with no path or predetermined place to get to, that's probably its magic.

But... What is love really? Your way of seeing it was so pure and solemn, like in novels or books available to anyone. For you it was a symbol of sacrifice, joy and dedication, supporting and wishing the best for your loved one. It's supposed to make you feel good, cause great joy at every moment, however...

The man behind you perhaps did not understand, or he had another way of seeing love that you were unable to understand, because you doubted that your concept was wrong, you could not be wrong.

His love did not make you feel good, it hurt you deeply, when you looked at him, you only felt hate, contempt and anguish, there was no kind of joy.

"I knew the dress would suit you" he flattered, leaning on your shoulder

"I guess...” You answered discouraged.

"I thought going out to eat would cheer you up a lot"

“here is not much difference between eating outside and inside if I am with you”

“Always so kind”

You looked at Shalnark in silence while he fixed his hair, he had an appearance that was far from his true self, the truth is, you wouldn't believe the entire list of his crimes if it weren't for the fact that you had known him for exactly one year.

It is curious that the way of loving an "angel" was so sinister, like his way of acting and thinking, at least for someone for you, it was simply a mystery.

"Aren't you bored of me yet?"

"Bore of you?"

“I don't feel any kind of love for you, why do you keep me with you?”

"Who said I need someone to love me? I just need someone to love”

You were dismayed by his response, love doesn't make sense if it insn´t reciprocated, it's supposed to be that way.

You took a deep breath when Shalnark's hand took your neck from behind, panic invaded you, however the grip did not allow you to turn to look at him, they only connected glances through the mirror, even so, his turquoise eyes were penetrating, as if they were looking at each other, face to face.

“I will not deny that the fact that you love me would make me immensely happy, but being able to love you without any restrictions is better than anything, when you are close to me, I feel so immensely happy, just having you by my side makes my life makes sense” He argued in your ear

"It's a sad life" You denied trying to get away from him

"Sad... I don't think so... I feel so much peace now, having you here, with me, submitted to me, without the possibility that you can turn to someone else, it's magical" He spoke smilingly

Your blood ran cold as Shalnark's hand applied force to your neck, your breath quickening with fear, like an animal, a small prey in the jaws of his predator.

“It's desperate... Don't you think?” He whispered mockingly to continue increasing his pressure on your neck “The heart beating painfully, the body trembling, feeling short of breath... God, it's truly horrible”

“What the fuck?” You asked with a weak voice, but without any intention of begging for your life, your pride had more power than you, you preferred to die rather than beg him, since you did not understand the direction of the conversation

"When I'm away from you, I feel so much worse than this" Not being able to love you and have you for me is ridiculous, from the moment I saw you, I stopped knowing the life you weren't in, I need you as much as you need the air right now, I couldn't get bored of someone I can't have enough" He replied in a sickly sweet tone “When I'm not with you it's like I die slowly, although not from lack of air, but it's much more painful”

The blond let go of your neck after finishing answering you and you began to cough, recovering your breath little by little, to then manage to get away from him a bit, holding your neck in disbelief and scared.

"Now do you understand a little of how I feel when we're apart?" Shalnark asked, holding your chin by force and forcing you to look at him.

You moved away to stop looking at him and ran to the bathroom to get away from him.

As you rinsed your face, it dawned on you that apparently being so close to suffocation was helpful in understanding Shalnark's twisted way of loving.

He does not believe in the sacrifice or purity of love, he lives on the sick and possessive side, he does not need to be loved, he can live only knowing that his beloved is his in any aspect, he delights in the fear and dependence that only love generates the fear of loss, the need to survive and the joy of taking everything without having to lose anything.

"I forgot something, Y/n" Shalnark added after knocking on the bathroom door.

You remained silent, leaning against the door, pressing your forehead against the wood and closing your eyes tightly.

“It really won't take me long to make you love me, now this is your world, you don't have anyone else, just me, you're human and you'll always want to survive, you also need me like air, even if you don't want to admit it”

Again you were silent, Shalnark smiled, if you didn't contradict him, you literally agreed with him, which was really true, you didn't say anything, you just tried not to think about the times when a smile adorned your face when you saw Shalnark after arriving for several days of travel or how pleasant his affection could be from time to time, you finally turned to the mirror embarrassed to see your face flushed.

Thank you so much for reading my shit 🖤

[sam-reyna]

Thanks for tagging me @onioneyez :D

Tagging 5 people (NO OBLIGATIONS ETC): @brandybradyrandyandyndy @2000-andlate @fanhampastagirl @chrysochromulina @midnightxxcrisis

Last song: this baby right here :)

Last book: Currently very on/off reading the book on translation by Umberto Eco (German title: Quasi dasselbe mit anderen Worten). Super interesting, but a bit too... scholastic at times to be easy reading at breakfast.

Last show: The Great British Bake Off, baby!! This year's season is done, so I'm currently rewatching old ones. Skipped a couple of episodes and I'm now on the 2021 season. One of my favourite bunches of bakers, also including a German one!!! The only time I feel something akin to patriotism is when I am cheering Jürgen on.

Last movie: Hrátky s čertem (Playing cards with the devil), a czech fairytale movie which I enjoyed immensely!!!! Loved the concept and the way it was done, plot & characters were fun - just a good package!

The last thing I looked up: French philosophers list (bc I always thought Voltaire looked hot). Amazing how much influence philosophers had on literature analysis, too!

Something I'm looking forward to: seeing my friend next week (haven't seen each other since June); watching a bit of youtube rn; maybe watching a few fairytale movies with my dad tomorrow; the new Tatort episode coming out on sunday and gossiping about it with my parents :)

[edosianorchids901]

Cheerful Comedy

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "Comedian's Night"

“Well, that was certainly… edifying,” Aziraphale said uncertainly, still staring at the telly screen with a mostly puzzled look. “Granted, I’m not entirely sure why some of the jokes were funny…”

“Nh, some of them are really specific to the time period. And America.” Awkward, Crowley slid a hand through his hand. “I get pretty much all of ‘em, but that’s because I’ve been watching this since it first aired.”

Still with a slight frown, Aziraphale picked up the complete Golden Girls DVDs and examined them. “I thought it was rather rude of those people at the hot dog place to make, um…”

“Dorothy,” Crowley supplied.

“To make Dorothy participate in birthday rituals that she wasn’t interested in.”

“I mean, that was kinda the point. The people who ran the hot dog place were obnoxious arseholes, and Dorothy wasn’t putting up with it.” Maybe picking this for their date night had been a bad idea. Comedy night sounded great in concept, but it wasn’t working out so well. “Dorothy’s cool. And tough.”

“I see.” Biting his lip, Aziraphale shuffled through the seasons, looking at the front of each case. “She doesn’t seem the sort to appreciate a silly little hot dog restaurant like that, or a surprise birthday celebration. Why did Rose pick something that her friend wouldn’t like?”

“Well, Rose… thought she was doing something great for Dorothy, something they could enjoy together.” Crowley gave a desperate grin and a tempting sway. “She was just wrong, s’ all. Misjudged what Dorothy would think.”

Aziraphale blinked. “And that’s funny?”

“Er.” Gosh, was this what it was like to be Rose? Rose had always reminded Crowley more of Aziraphale than anyone else, in a really endearing way. But maybe he’d misjudged that, too. “Sorry, angel. I guess it’s not that funny. Why don’t we watch something else?”

“Oh, no! I don’t mean that, dear boy.” Gently, Aziraphale took Crowley’s hands and squeezed. “I’m just trying to understand better, that’s all. I know this show is very important to you. I, um… may have misjudged a bit.”

Now Crowley was confused. He tilted his head, frowning. “How so?”

“Well, I thought that asking questions about it would come across as showing an interest in something you care about.” Aziraphale chuckled, expression soft with affection. “Afraid I may have come across a bit too critical. I enjoyed it very much.”

Crowley gave a skeptical look. Golden Girls had always made him feel better, and sharing it left him more vulnerable than he liked. He liked to be cool and tough, not flustered. “You only laughed like… twice in the whole episode. I don’t think it’s really your style of comedy.”

“Why don’t we instead say that it’s not a style of comedy I’ve had all that much experience with?” Still smiling, Aziraphale kissed Crowley’s hands, then let go in favor of snuggling closer to him on the sofa. “And besides, even if I didn’t understand all of the jokes and such, I truly did enjoy it immensely. How could I not?”

“I really am not following right now, angel.” Which also left him feeling much less cool and tough than he liked, although at least the anxiety was easing now. Aziraphale was generally honest with him these days.

“It’s like how you’re perfectly happy to listen to me read Regency romance aloud even though you find it silly, or take me to see Hamlet repeatedly even though you think it’s an awful, dreary play.” Aziraphale brushed a light kiss to his cheek. “You enjoy it because you like to see me enjoying myself. Seeing me happy makes you happy.”

“That’s definitely true.” Relaxing a little, Crowley wrapped his arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders and hugged him close. “And at least you definitely can’t accuse Golden Girls of being dreary. It’s cheerful.”

“It is very cheerful, dear boy. And truly, I love seeing you so cheerful as well.” Raising one hand, Aziraphale skimmed his fingers across Crowley’s cheek, then down to trail along his jaw. “You’re so often stressed and rather grim, even these days. I can’t think of anything better than seeing you so freely laughing, smiling, and making little jokes of your own. You look so innocent when you’re watching this lovely little show.”

“Nnnnnrng.” Cheeks going hot, Crowley buried his face in Aziraphale’s soft curls. “Don’t say that. M’ a demon.”

“Mhm. But still.” Aziraphale hugged him, then gently pushed him back and placed the remote in his hand. “Here. Show me more.”

It was still hard to be vulnerable, even now that they spent almost every waking moment together. But Crowley draped his arm around Aziraphale’s shoulders again and leaned back, then hit play. As long as they were both having fun, that was all that mattered.

[lividcryptid]

Minami - ATLA oc

LETS GOOO After days of procrastination and barely any motivation, the page has been filled! Anyways here’s some random things about Minami:

- Her favorite thing to make with her bending are bunnies and butterflies since they are super easy to make + it’s a crowd favorite

- Even though she should be wearing red, black, and gold because she’s from the fire nation, I gave her a mix of blue, red, and gold. The intention was to make her origins subtle and that her travels influenced her fashion. So best way for me to show that was to switch some colors up (Also I made a red version but it didn’t stick out to me compared to blue)

- Minami is a much more carefree and cheerful person who doesn’t try to worry much. It’s somewhat difficult to make her truly angry

- I did say this before, but I’ll just mention it again. Unlike normal firebenders, she can only produce heatless flames or what I can technically call pure light. It stemmed from an immense fear of hurting her audience and ruining her own image of what she calls art. That starts to build up and show in her firebending

- I didn’t draw her performing because I actually suck at dynamic poses such as dancing hahshsiais But my intention is make her movements similar to ribbon dancing because it looked similar to bending. That concept can be seen in the Ember Island Player episode as well which I actually didn’t realize until watching it yesterday

- Finally, her family does work for the fire nation government and had Minami to follow in their footsteps. Their intentions was to utilize her quick thinking and creativity to aid the military or something else then be promoted to aid the royal family. The big hope was that Minami becomes somewhat like a royal advisor to princess Azula if she does become the new ruler after Ozai

- Just a random fun fact: the name “Minami” was suggested by an instagram mutual when I was struggling to pick one out for her

[shmowder]

Ohh hello there you were nice Once (1ce) so now I have decided to nudge you more. How we feeling about the Patho fic 'But someone bust bear the yoke"? It's literally been the one fic stabbing me in the chest and kicking me around that there isn't more content to presume on it. It's amazing. If you haven't read it, PLEASE DOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!! JFHFHFHFFHGHGGFDHDHDHFHDJSN

(p.s, how are the kids? the worm and the tragedian?)

Feel free to nudge me whenever you'd like, I'm delighted by our brief chats <3 You and the other anons have been so sweet and amazing.

I did check out that fic you mentioned, "But Someone Must Bear the Yoke" by inkpot_demigod. I've read the first chapter, and it seems wonderful and beautifully written. The concept of the minotaur being literal is intriguing. But I don't see myself continuing the fic.

I don't engage much with the patho fandom as a whole, I rarely read the fics or look at the posts. I even have the tags filtered out on tumblr. Which is a shame this fandom seems much sweeter than more toxic ones I've been in, but that's just what I do when I started creating for any fandom. Be it memes or writing. I did it with Bg3 and mass effect.

All my impressions of the characters come from playing P1 and P2. Reading the wiki or old dev posts sometimes. It is isolating in a way I won't lie, but it solves a different problem my brain struggles with, and hey, if it works, it works. Part of me also dreads falling into their fanon versions and not being able to dig myself out, I had a completely different view on Isidor before discovering the fanon version, and now I just feel sad. No one in pathologic is completely without sin, and despite all of Isidor's actions, he held such immense love for his son. His only remaining son which was the reason his wife passed away, he could've loathed Artemy for his mother passing away in childbirth but he didn't. He adored him above everything. It is also sad that Artemy's older brother isn't mentioned more, especially since people from the town do remember him. Katerina confuses Artemy for Ersher in their first meeting.

However, two wonderful people in the fandom did reach out to me, and we talk on occasion. Sometimes, we share pathologic ideas, and I credit them for inspiration on the writing/posts they influence. Firebird and Torse.

I'm glad you liked that author's fic that much! Do leave them a comment and describe your thoughts, I'm sure it will cheer them up reading it. Maybe check some of their lesser known fics and comment there, too? I know it makes me sad when one of my fics blows up in a fandom, but my other ones get ignored. It almost makes me resent my popular fics. Popularity in a fandom is a double edge sword fr-

Me and the kids are doing wonderful! Baby worm is absolutely enamoured with baby tragedian and shares candy with their new sibling all the time! I peel oranges and cut fruits for them, i take them to the playground and push them on the swings. The world smiles with them, My two sons are more precious than all the stars in the sky.

On a serious note, thank you for sharing your beautiful art with me and showing it! I would've bever found it otherwise or been blessed with such an adorable concept. Yk, filtered patho tag and all. So really I'm happy you decided to show me directly.

If it's the idea of minotaur or bull Artemy you wanna talk about, then I'm down! However, my version will differentiate from the fic and will approach it in another light. Be it x reader, Daniil x Artemy or Aglaya x Artemy.

[dp-marvel94]

The Same Type of Ghost- Chapter 3

Summary: Deep in the Infinite Realms, something writhed. And only Clockwork can help.

Word Count: 3851

Chapter 1 -> Chapter 2 -> Chapter 3(Here)

Also on AO3

Note: For @everystarstorm@modordracena@five-rivers@currentlylurking@aedelia

Note : Finally, this story is done! 😭 I can't believe this took me almost the entire month. But here it is.

More warning for body horror in this chapter. I definitely turn it up a notch here. Also a minor reference to/comparison to breast feeding. Nothing graphic of course, but I'd hate for anyone unprepared to get hit in that face with it.

So enjoy a bit more angst and family feels!

A breath in, breath out for preparation. Clockwork’s core ticked, pulsing calmly, sadly soothing. He would help….

With total certainty, Clockwork let go. 

He let go of limited, humanoid form and expanded. Singularity gave way to a unified plurality. He, no, they… they grew. They were a great cathedral. Sundials on the river bank. Monoliths of stone. Raging rivers. The cycle of the tide. The dry season, followed by the wet. Falling leaves, followed by snow, flowers, burning sun. 

Numerous images and concepts. But not chaotic and disorganized as in the origin. No, they were contained, purposeful. This would help….

Human form melted away into something more fluid, flexible as they grew. Farther and wider. More expansive. Their form pressed up against the wall, filling the room. They towered over the now much smaller other ghost. Yes. Yes. This was good. This was immense enough. They dwarfed the other being now. Not looming but…. Sheltering, protecting. Big enough to envelop every inch of the child, their child.

Clockwork’s…. Time’s limbs wrapped around the child, tenderly cupping the many heads. The smaller ghost trembled.

Sh. There. There. More feeling than words. 

Time soothed, hummed, comforting sounds. So many voices now, more than their child.

First a meal. Then we will begin.

Time opened their core, bidding their child to drink. At first the other ghost refused; more hiccupping sobs shook their form. But… another nudge from Time.

The smaller ghost’s aura flared, core wobbling. An infant ghost’s instinct to feed… The child drank in the energy, first tentatively but then eager as a babe at their mother’s bosom. 

Drink, little one. Time encouraged.

Their child soothed, core calming. A flicker of trust. Cries quieted.

Good. Good. Time cheered, a relieved parent. What was coming next would be hard. Becoming and unbecoming were difficult work. The little one would need their strength. 

Slowly, the infant (The longer Time held, the more certain they were this was a babe, a babe of their own kind.) filled, content with their meal. They drank less and less eagerly, less and less desperately. Ever so slightly, they pulled away.

All done? No answer came, sniffles remaining. Still, Time closed their core.

Now the next part… To soothe the ache, to heal the hurt. Time remembered: folding in, becoming less. They loved being Clockwork.

And they loved being parent. Parent… the change sang in their core. Already…. A look and a touch and this was their child. Their babe. 

Their child was… beautiful, magnificent. Not an abomination, not a conglomerate, not an offense against nature. They were great. They were Many and they were good. They were like them. They were like Time.

But… this was too much. Too much for one so young and fragile. They would be great, expansive. But not yet. Not now.

Time hummed, gently massaging two limbs at the edge of the child’s mass. The body squished and flexed, malleable as clay. 

Good. Good. Carefuly, the parent shaped the appendages. A small push…

Confusion, distress shivered through the child. An unhappy whine.

Sh. Sh. Time hushed. It is alright.

With a squelched, the limbs fused back together, into one. The smaller ghost’s whine petered off, a curious note.

The larger ghost gently stroked the other, holding them close. Understanding was beyond the little one’s mind now but… Needed. Help. Heal. 

Time kneaded the smaller form, one head folding back into the body, one voice among Many quieting. 

More distress. Confused cries rose. But parent continued to work, even as the sound pulled on their core. Despite the upset, this was necessary. A distasteful medicine to cure illness; a cast worn to heal misaligned bones. Uncomfortable and unpleasant. But in the end…. Their child would be healed.

The smaller ghost cried and squirmed, even as the larger hummed comfort. They massaged the body. Gradually smoothing out, realigning. But… slow, slow progress. This would not do….

Parent tugged time forward. This they could do. They had all the time in the universe; they were its master. Within the four walls, existence sped up. Time held, a river wearing down a boulder, as they stroked their child. 

Eyes flickered, unfocused, confused as the smaller ghost shrunk. Extra limbs folded in on themselves, dozens of eyes closing and fading away. Hours, months, years of healing in a matter of moments.

The little one shrunk and shrunk, voices combining. Heads, mouths, arms, legs, fingers, toes. All fused, mingled, melded together. The form grew smaller and smaller. Lesser and Lesser.

And Time lessened, shrunk with them, their… his size matching his child.

So very close now…. Three heads, twenty or so limbs, all sprouting from a still rather indistinct torso. Two still cried, eyes pinched closed. But one…. One single face, resting in the middle, remained quiet. Lips pressed shut, they… he… stared up at Clockwork with one green eye and one blue. Slowly, the expression, once screwed up in discomfort, smoothed into a sleepy smile.

Yes. Clockwork’s core sang. This was his child’s true face. 

The old ghost leaned down, eyes closed. A fatherly kiss, planted on that forehead. With a squelsh, the adult heard the three heads become one. A contented sigh exited the now singular pair of lips. In his arms, Clockwork felt the chest solidify, excess appendages melting away.

The adult opened his eyes to… a teenage boy (He’d partly expected him to be younger, but this… this felt right). Two legs, four arms (excessive but manageable, Lady Pandora certainly did). One head, top covered with white-and-black hair.  Though…. Curious…. In the combination, a third eye had planted itself on the forehead. The solid red, pupiless orb blinked sleepily with its others.

But in the end, all three closed, the chest gently rising and falling with sleep. 

Around them, the room shrank, shifting into a cozy bedroom. The adult laid the boy on the bed. A blue hand gently brushed the hair from the young one’s forehead.

“You are perfect. My beautiful child.” Clockwork whispered, his core shining with love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many awoke and… for once, everything was quiet.

Eyes, three of them, stared at the ceiling. Core gently pulsed in ears. 

Slowly, the being sat up. Strangely new muscles stretched pleasantly. Hands…. Four of them…. fluttered into view and….

They…. He stared. He turned the hands, wiggled the fingers. Their mind asked and… the body, his body obeyed. 

Numb disbelief. His mind spun, aching and raw but… blissfully quiet.

Suddenly, something blue flickered into his vision. His head whipped up at the movement. And….

His brow furrowed, gazing fixed on… a blue skinned ghost, red eyes with a clock in his chest. He looked… achingly familiar. 

“You are awake.” A relieved smile parted the other ghost’s lips. “How do you feel?”

For a long moment, his gaze returned back to their hands. Four hands…. One, two, three, four. The count repeated in his head. Four. All bare, a pale green, with short nails.

His… their throat twitched, disbelief settling into reality.

“How do you feel?” The question repeated, a hint of worry in it now.

“We are small.” The words came out quietly awed.

This was real. A blissfully singular thought. 

They shook his hands, wiggled his fingers. Laughter bubbled in their chest. “We are small!” Tears… tears streamed down his face now. “We are small!” Tears of joy.

He cried. He laughed, body rocking on the bed. This was real. One head, four arms, two legs. This was his body and it was real!

The other ghost floated over, arms wrapping around him. “My beautiful child…” So much love in those words. “You are safe.”

The child… yes, that’s what he was, a child…. He buried themself in the hug, cherishing the comfort.

They were safe. It was quiet, hardly an echo inside him at all. He was small. Finally… it had been so long, but now… he was small enough to be held. Held….

Brother! A memory: Floating over the rock, the green…. Brother had been there. Brother had held him… before. He had comforted…

Suddenly, the child pulled away. “Where is Brother?” Came the demand. And…. another far off memory…. A smaller figure with Brother, long white hair. This was…. “Sister? Sister was there. Where is Sister?”

Fear rose at the thought. Where were his brother and sister? And…. eyes narrowed suspiciously at the clock ghost. “Who are you?”

“Calm, child.” The other ghost gently patted his lower right arm. “All will be explained in due time. Firstly, I am your father-”

All three eyes widened, alarmed. “Father?... Father… No.” His hand gripped their hair, fearfully eyeing the older ghost. Red eyes, blue skin…. Flash of memory from before. A fanged sneer, hair slicked up in devilish horns. Father…. Master…. But…. that didn’t match what he was see-

Another pat on his arm. The other ghost started. “No, I am not-”

“I’ll be good! I swear!” They flinched away, knees curling to their chest. “Don’t hurt me, Master!”

The blue skinned figure froze, blinking. “I am not Plasmius.” His hand pulled back, the serene look harding into something earnest and heartfelt. “Rest assured, I am not the depraved cretin who created and abused you.”

The child’s brow wrinkled, head shaking vigorously. His mind swam, cracks forming along the surface. “Master….. Master will be so angry we left the lab.”

“He will not touch you.” The clock ghost said, the words a promise.

Frantic tugging at their hair. “We weren’t supposed to leave. Master will… will come and take us back.”

 “I am Clockwork, Master of Time.” The adult ghost sneered, sharp teeth flashing protectively.

 “Let him try.”

Inside, something twisted painfully. He trembled, skin growing moist and slick. The other’s words, continued reassurance didn’t register. Instead…

So many flashing thoughts, memories. The lab… they… he wasn’t in the lab. He was out but… brother and sister…. Where were they? Had Master hurt them too?  Cuts seeping red and green. The scream of machines. Cruel metal tables. Master staring down at him, scapula in hand. Blood filling his throat. His.. his body felt far away… Brother was holding him….

A sudden painful tug ravaged their back. Something… something was pressing out of their skin. Fingers? Fingers! A hand, a forearm…. An arm was growing out of their back. Another torn out below it. And another. And another. Four in a line, a demented crest along his spine.

Oh. No. No! No! Panic clawed up their throat, terror. He remembered…. The open green sky, alone. Alone. Crying, Screaming. Alone!

He was growing taller, towering over the now smaller ghost. Their chest stretched wider, shoulders elongating.

He was… he was growing, changing into… into…

An immense pain, a pressure spiked at the joint. The flesh twisted, bubbling. Something else was pressing out. His vision blurred. A sprinkle of coarse hair on the shoulder… 

Alone, floating over the rock, no control over his body. Their body…. Too many thoughts, emotions. Couldn’t focus…

A horrible ripping sound. His vision doubled, mind splintering. Another head… they’d sprouted another head from their growing shoulders. 

They were turning into that thing again and they couldn’t stop it. They couldn’t stop! 

Crying, hyperventilating. They could feel their spine lengthening. That was a tail… another eye?

This was… this was…. “No! No! No! No!” The words poured out. “Please! Help! Stop! No! No! No!”

“Perseverance.” The word cut straight through the panic. “Focus.”

Like lightning, all eyes focused on the kindly figure. The clock ghost, floating in front of them… him, a hand… on each shoulder? A questioning chirp exited both throats.

The older ghost chuckled. “Yes. I grew to match you. Now.” The serious tone returned. “Focus. Listen to my voice.” A hum of acknowledgement. “You are like me, my child. You are made of many pieces but you are one. You must focus. Focus on your singularity, on what unites you.”

The other’s brow wrinkled, core rumbling in question.

“What will define you, young one? It needn’t be permanent. But a thought, a memory, a feeling to cling to, narrowing yourself down.”

They… did not understand… So many questions rang in their head. Their body hurt. They still didn’t remember how they got here…

“Perseverance.” The word repeated, earnest, loving. “You must focus. Come back to yourself, my son.”

Many eyes blinked as one. “Perseverance?” Understanding dawned. “We are… I am Perseverance.”

A name…. He’d never had a name before. Something in him shifted, realigning.

“Yes.” The word breathed with relief, a proud smile. “I have named you Perseverance. Now what else… who else are you?”

Who else…? He was… Many. The memories returned, this time with clarity. More than a dozen lives, all filled with pain, torture, abuse. And… Death.

The knowledge sank like a stone in his core. Each of him, all of him had died. He was dead. But….

“I survived. I have suffered and I have died. But… I survived. I live on.”

“Yes.” The other ghost encouraged.

Perseverance felt his tail melt away. He continued. “I was… never alone.” A dozen memories of his brother’s face, tear stained and bloodied, rose in his mind. “My brother was always there. He…he loved me.”

“He still does.” The clock ghost added. “He and your sister are the ones who found you and brought me to you to help you.”

“Yes.” He remembered: holding Brother close, the tears, the words of comfort. “Brother… Prometheus….” That was his name, his sister had said. “Prometheus loves me. So does my sister. And I… I love them…”

His second head disappeared, voice folding back into unity. “I love them so much.” He wanted to, needed to see them soon. But first….

His eyes, now just three, focused on the ghost in front of him. It was all so clear now. This ghost had come to his aid. He’d brought him here; to his lair, he’d said. And… Perseverance had been distressed, crying. He hadn’t understood what had been happening. But… he’d been held so tenderly, completely enveloped. His hunger satiated, his aching limbs massaged. Time had pulled itself forward and…

“You… you healed me.” His voice rang with surprised awe.

“I helped you along.” Perseverance felt himself shrinking now, the other ghost (Clockwork, he’s said he was called) drifting closer.

“Why?” The rest of his body reduced down, the extra arms shrinking.

“As I said, you are like me. I could help you as no one else could.”

“So… so that’s why…” A hint of doubt stalled the boy’s reversion.

“That is why I initially reached out. However…” A blue hand cupped his face. “As soon as I held you, I loved you.” A crinkled smile. “As any parent does.”

The boy blinked. “You said you were my father.” Something like hope swelled in his core. “You adopted me?”

“Yes. If you’ll have me.” So much love and respect echoed in those words.

If you’ll have me….  Perseverance’s muscles relaxed with the given choice. He finally sighed, relief washing over him as his body settled back into proper shape. 

Relief bloomed on the Clockwork’s face. “You have returned to yourself.”

With a nod, the younger ghost landed on the ground, legs strong under him. For just a moment, he bounced on his feet, testing out the new and yet familiar limbs. Again, he wiggled his fingers. He hadn’t had this much control of his body since…. The thought back, past the monstrous beginning of his afterlife, to his dozens of lives. All of them had been unstable, sick their entire existences. But… he was healthy, safe, and…

The realization suddenly bloomed. He. HE. Not they. Singular, not plural. He was one being. Not more than a dozen lives, hopelessly intertwined. But… One.

Perseverance looked up. “Yes. I’m… I’m back to myself. I’m… me.” His eyes shone, wide and grateful with the knowledge. “Thank you. Thank you for helping me.”

The younger ghost floated forward. With hesitance, he opened his arms. There was still so much to sort through, so much to figure out but…

Clockwork gave an encouraging smile, drawing the smaller ghost into his arms. “It was my delight, my dear son.”

He nestled into the hug. “I think… I’d like it if you would be my father…” 

There was still so much to learn but with his siblings and his new parent…. Perseverance was sure he would be alright.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bonus Scene:

Prometheus watched Clockwork disappear with the nightmarish amalgamation that had been his lost siblings. And for the next week, he stewed in anxiety. A worry that wouldn’t be eased, no matter his siblings’ words….

“What happened to them wasn’t your fault.” Dami reassured, little body tucked under his chin in a hug.

“Clockwork… he saved my life. He’s a good ghost.” Danny patted his back. “He’ll… he’ll take care of them.

No matter the offered distractions.

Ellie half-dragged a much-too-big-for-her sword behind her. “You’ve gotta show me what Pandora taught you!”

“Practice sign with me?” Zeke asked, thin fingers forming the words in time with his speech.

Daniel holding a basket of tiger fruit. “Prometheus, will you help me peel these?” He smiled proudly. “You and Damian have yet to sample my pie recipe.”

His brothers and sister really did try. But worry refused to release its grip, interrupting his sleep, sapping the joy from eating, playing, exploring with his siblings. 

A week in and Pro had half a mind to barge out of the lair and just search out the Clocktower himself. 

But… a note appeared on his bed, in-between one blink and the next. Pro picked up the blue post-it note, admiring the golden script. 

Your brother wishes to see you. Only one guest, please, as to not overwhelm him. We will eagerly await your arrival. - CW

For a long minute, Prometheus stared at the note. A note from Clockwork… relief surged through him. Finally, news from the time master. But… 

Worry bloomed at the mention of only one brother…. His mind scrabbled for an explanation. Had Clockwork managed to separate their siblings? But… dread balled. Had only one wished to see him? Or… an even worse thought…. Had only one survived the process? Had the others faded, leaving only one among the over two dozen? His throat felt thick, clogged with sadness at the thought. But…

A shake of his head. He would still go. He had to. And… he would bring Ellie.

Pro showed his sister the note and after a brief talk with their other three clone brothers, the pair took off. 

The trip to the tower weighed heavy, the air choked with a sad tension. Soon Clockwork’s lair appeared, towering over them. Arriving to the door…. The pair landed. Pro reached out, a nervous hand hovering over the knocker. If he knocked, if he opened the door…. A churning dread. If he opened the door, he would know. He would know what happened. And that… that was worse than not knowing. He… he couldn’t. He couldn’t. He-

“Pro.” Ellie’s hand gently rested on his arm. “It’s going to be okay.”

The calming words, the younger ghost’s wide, earnest eyes….. The older’s expression relaxed, his trembling calming. With a nod, he knocked on the door. Another second…

Without a touch, the door swung open. The two clones floated inside, the opening clicking closed behind them.

Ticking surrounded them, a deep chime shaking the room. It rang out, the sound filling Pro’s every sense. His core fluttered, nervously pounding out of his chest. They were here. Now, where was-

“Brother! Sister!” A black, white, and green blur slammed into Prometheus. “You’re here!”

The taller ghost stumbled back. “What are-” He froze, staring down at the figuring clinching to him. Four arms… those were for arms. And-

“Who are you?” Ellie squirmed out of the group hug.

Pro remained frozen. The figure hugging him stiffened but didn’t let go. The white-black haired head looked up. Round eyes, filled with hurt, met his. The larger clone stared. A strange sense of familiarity…. 

The other ghost pulled away. “Brother… Prometheus. Don’t you recognize me?” The question was so soft, so desperate.

Recognize… of course he did. The face in front of him he’d seen on Danny and Daniel, Zeke and Ellie, Damian and himself. And… two dozen lost siblings. Of course he recognized it. The three eyes were new but…

The revelation crept into his core, quiet and awed. This particular mis-match of hair. One blue eye and one green, in these specific shades. This exact pattern of freckles. 

“It’s… It’s you.” One specific death, silent with one last moment of clarity, of gratitude at the end. “You survived.” A shaking hand cupped one cheek, just like Pro had at that death.

An eager nodd. “Yes. I am here. I made it.”

“You made it.” Happiness, pure joy at the thought. But… heartbreak too. “One of you survived.”

The three eyes crinkled, for a second confused, but then widened. “All of us survived.” The boy’s hand reached up, cupping Pro’s. “Prometheus. Brother. All of us made it.”

“What?” Pro’s forehead wrinkled. 

“We, all of us, survived.” The eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration. “We are here. We are safe, all here together.” The words sounded deliberate, spoken evenly.

“I don’t understand.” Ellie sounded a little uneasy.

The boy opened his eyes, pulling away from Pro. He turned looking down at Ellie. “We are… Many.” For just a blink, his form wavering, flickering into something large and indistinct. 

Pro’s blood ran cold… He thought he understood.

But the next moment, the eldritch terror was gone. The boy’s face relaxed. “But I am one. Just myself. Simply… me.” A smile bloomed.

That smile…. It was like the sun on Prometheus’ skin. “You’re… all of them. But…” The clarity in those eyes, the joy behind them…

The oldest clone did not understand at all. This miracle in front of him but…

He reached out, enveloping his clone brother in his arms. “You’re… you’re small enough to hug again.”

“I am.” A laugh. “I was very happy to wake up this small.” 

“You really are them…” Ellie’s awed voice. 

The hug tightened, the girl joining the embrace. Tears… tears welled in all eyes. Pro’s chest shook, full of overflowing joy. Ellie was crying too, head buried in their clone brother’s shoulder. 

Finally, after so long, and yet never long enough…. “It’s really you. You’re really here.” The shortest ghost blubbered out.

“Yes, Ellie. I’m here.” The watery reassurance.

“You know our names.” The girl breathed.

The recognition hit Prometheus. The boy he was holding did know his name… Somehow, impossibly, his miracle of a brother knew his name. And Pro hadn’t even thought to ask this most important question….

The taller boy lifted his head, enough to see the other’s face. “What’s your name?”

“Perseverance.” The boy smiled, not a hint of doubt.

Ellie snorted. “I’m calling you Percy.”

A chuckle. “Percy… I like that.” The newly dubbed Percy hummed.

“Percy…” Pro tried out the name gently, revertantly, like it was something sacred. Something beautiful. “Percy… I’m so happy you’re here.”

A few notes:

On the name Perseverance. I wanted something space themed since my original idea was to have our clone boy as the personification of space, a twist on the "Danny as the Ancient of Space" idea. Originally I was going to with Cosmos. But that didn't fit Percy's theme, the idea our clone boy uses to focus himself back down into one person. Him being the personification of survival/re-birth makes a lot more sense. Hence Clockwork naming him Perseverance; Clocky would of course name his new son something that's not an actual name. Plus he shares a name with one of the Mars rovers so two for one. XD

And the "bonus scene." I got to the scene with Clockwork and Percy, ending with their hug and it felt like the perfect ending. But I didn't want to leave Pro and Ellie hanging. :( Hence the long bonus scene.

And the other named clones! I just had to have all the other clone baby cameo. 🥺

Daniel- Prime Clone

Zeke(Ezekiel)- Skeletal clone

Damian- Tiny Clone

Thanks for reading! And thank you to everyone who's prompts I used here. It was a lot of fun putting them together like this. I hope y'all enjoyed. :)

[dyke-stuck]

forgive me for getting sappy in your askbox tumblr user dyke-stuck but i've been here since uhhh. since i think... day 24? yes it was the first rosemary post. my first request was the dragongender terezi + trans vriska post (the very first vrisrezi post on this blog). i have sent in Many requests over the past year and it's always been a treat to see you draw them; it cheered me up Immensely to see your posts every day, even if it was a headcanon that didn't prick my fancy (i am very picky in headcanons i fear...) because i knew you would draw it exceptionally well and would do the concept and the requester justice. some of the headcanons you drew were ones i had never considered before that i now consider Canon To Me (transneumasc aradia specifically is one example of this.) it has been so wonderful to watch your art style and skills grow. perhaps this is silly to say, but i'm proud of you. here's to the past year and all the headcanons and all the art and the gender and the dykery. HAPPY DYKE-STUCK ANNIVERSARY!

anon i love you so much what the fuck... this is so unbelievably sweet? thank you so much. can we hold hands? i have like nothing coherent to say to this but oh my GOSH what the hell thank you so much? this is wonderful and beautiful and makes me so happy to hear!!!! happy dyke-stuck anniversary INDEED. my god.

[incorrect-jojolands-quotes]

possible jojolands endings that i came up with

I’m going to come back to this as the series progress and see how much I got right and wrong, so let me know what you think. 

Definitely not a leak or from Araki himself tee hee.

Scenario 1: Dario Brando Origin Story. 

Jodio becomes a universe hopper during his adventure, either related or unrelated to how he gets rich. Being wealthy starts boring him, now that everything he wanted can be given or done with a wad of cash, so he starts appearing in different points of history as well as timelines. He is mostly an observer, sometimes appearing as flashbacks or random civilians in other characters’ memories, and it goes well for the most part. Then, he travels to a familiar universe and lands in Victorian England. Somehow, whether due to his irresponsibility or outside of his control, he cannot return home. The wealth he had in his original timeline is no longer accessible and the now much older Jodio realizes he can’t get the life he felt he rightfully earned years ago. He takes on the identity of Dario Brando, returning back to his criminal ways before he would have a son he decides to name after his original name. His resentment at losing money and being stuck turns into abuse against Dio, and the story begins again. 

This one kind of came out of my ass and is more of a shit idea but it’s an interesting idea. 

Scenario 2: The Hero-turned-Villain’s Demise.

Basically, Jodio becomes the villain as a result of his pursuit of richest and as a means to appease and optimize the mechanisms so it continues to favor him. Maybe he was pushed to think less of his allies and more of his personal gains. The only reason why Jodio justifies his criminal actions is to protect his mother and sibling. Maybe they’re stopping him from being selfish about it. If they die, it may cause Jodio to feel like nothing can hold him back anymore. So we as the reader watch Jodio become a monster despite still showing Joestar traits, we grow to hate him, and then the series ends with us seeing Jodio dying on a pile of immense riches alone. Maybe his allies planned this attack, maybe Jodio didn’t want to part with the wealth he had acquired. But Jodio’s dead eyes staring at us readers possibly cheering that he ended suddenly asked if we were satisfied seeing him in such a state, satisfied that someone no different than us and who would have done what he did died horribly, satisfied villifying a person who simply wanted success. And he ends it with a ��at least I got what I wanted: very rich.” And his first monologue starts to feel different from when we first read it. 

We’ve seen people think of Jodio having more Dio down to his own name and it’s plays more into how he’s very aware of it. In a way, it gives this concept of humans and their desire for power. Whether power is intentionally meant to be applied for good or for personal use, it analyzes quotes such as “money is the root of all evil” and “absolute power amplifies corruption” and whether humans are prone to become evil once given some form or promise of a source of power like wealth. 

Scenario 3: Made in Heaven 2: Electric Boogaloo.

Instead of a universe reset, an Araki version of the Book of Revelations occur. The series give reference to the visions shown to a man named “John”, which include some interpretation of the four horsemen, earthquakes possibly caused by volcanic erruptions that end up clouding the sky, plagues. The main antagonist sets this in motion in hopes of “purifying” the world and restarting it anew, possibly a cult leader taking advantage of people and gaining money as a result of it. The leader sees the concept of mechanisms unfair, exploitative, an old world order to be rid of for the greater good. Jodio might stop the cult leader from starting the apocalypse and steal the vast wealth left behind as a result of the power vacumn. Or the the death jumpstarts the apocalypse, so Jodio either must ensure it happens in a way that gives humanity the best survival or stops it alltogether via the wealth he now acquired. Becoming rich is now seen as less of an achievement and more of a burden, a necessity, to ensure the survival of humanity. 

This is probably the closest to being a reference to Stone Ocean and Golden Wind. This allows this concept of Jodio being someone who is pro-mechanism and a villain who is anti-mechanism and analyzes themes of free will, status quo, and institutions as an identity. Unlike Pucci, the villain is doing this on their own and prime example of someone wanting to do genuine good without realizing the real harm of it. It also allows Jodio to take on that Joestar trait of trying to pursue good. 

Let me know what you think of these potential endings. :)

[jonfarreporter]

How Does Barbie and an ancient Mesopotamian Goddess have a connection with “the demonic?”

“Barbie” the 2023 movie written & directed by Greta Gerwig had its matinee debut in Sonoma this weekend.

And, for all the anticipation the reason why this reporter saw it was because of the harsh criticism the movie received by a religious conservative.

And this particular religious conservative wasn’t Christian-ministry evangelist Ivan Tuttle, claiming that the film is full of “demonic influences.”

This particular critic is an American Messianic Jewish rabbi and author, Jonathan Cahn. He holds the opinion as expressed on his YouTube channel, that “Barbie” the movie represents a “turning away from marriage and motherhood.”

Somehow the rabbi sees the Barbie character as an embodiment of the ancient Mesopotamian goddess Ishtar. And, he says that Ishtar was the patron goddess of promiscuity and prostitution.

Looking at various sources more closely, Ishtar is a fertility goddess and her mythology is complex. Taking things a bit further, Cahn sees a link between the ancient goddess and Barbie. How he sees this to that extent is baffling.

Because as he alleges, the initial prototype of the Barbie who debuted in 1959 was patterned after a German doll called “Lilli.”

As a fictional character Lilli appeared regularly in a tabloid comic strip. The character of “Lilli” was supposedly a prostitute.

Cahn says Barbie was fashioned after “Lilli.” And because “Lilli” was in prostitution in the comic strip, somehow this is linked with Barbie and then with an ancient fertility goddess.

Forgive me Rabbi Cahn! But I don’t see where and how these dots connected.

Yet despite what Cahn believes is a somewhat dubious origin, the real inspiration behind Barbie was Ruth Handler. She simply wanted to make a doll for her daughter, Barbara.

As historians have noted, children have always had toys, dolls. In America, before Barbie, most dolls for girls were baby dolls. And, Handler noticed that her daughter utilized paper dolls, creating stories and roles for each.

Mentioning this to her husband Elliot and then business associate Harold “Matt” Matson, an idea emerged.

They converted their furniture manufacturing business into a toy making company. Combining the names Elliot with Matt, the corporation Mattel was founded.

Of course, it helped immensely that the furniture they had once made was a combination of plastics of Lucite and plexiglas.

Handler saw the impact a more lifelike and grown up doll-figure would make as it provided a tangible three-dimensional experience. And, it would help give expression to an imagination that could think and dream of many possibilities.

In Barbie a girl could imagine going places, doing things and most of all, envisioning herself being in the world.

Rhea Perlman from the TV series “Cheers” portrays Handler and explains this eloquently in the movie.

Yet Cahn must have missed this as he focuses mostly on the opening scene in the movie as girls smash their baby dolls in favor of having a coveted “Barbie Doll.”

For it’s entertaining quality and affirmation of women, “Barbie” the movie is “uneven” as movie-reviews like the Roger Ebert website have noted.

From a philosophical perspective, this reporter agrees, the movie is “frustratingly uneven.” But that’s because there’s so much to take in.

So many “existential concepts” and “ identity crisis” dilemmas, that it’s hard to follow a clear path of a story-plot.

Culturally, Barbie as “an icon” represents many things. And, just about all of that, both the negative and the positive is expressed in the movie.

Yet amid all the eye-popping color of scene changes and special effects, along with the existential crisis themes, again it’s important to remember that Barbie was made over 60 years ago.

Barbie was initially made simply as a doll for one woman’s daughter. The rest of it over the years, it seems to be is what people project upon this doll.

For Handler, Barbie was there to help her daughter and girls like her back in 1959. She wanted them to use their imagination to see themselves in whatever role or scenario they wished to be in.

Yes, the figure of Barbie is idealized but so are many works and depictions of humans in art form. The world back in 1959 when Barbie was born was much different, more conventional than what is today in the 21st Century.

Our world today in 2023 is very complicated, diverse and some of that is explained or expressed in this fantasy “meets reality,” movie.

I think the rabbi and other fundamentalist religious leaders need to do a bit more research and try to listen to the actual dialog/script of the movie.

To go so far as to allude that this box office hit is “demonic” is way off base. It’s interesting to point out that Cahn is a NY Times best-selling author. His 2011 fiction book “The Harbinger” spent over 100 weeks on the bestseller list. One might question whether Cahn’s criticism of the movie is an effort to sell more of his books as “The Harbinger” is one of seven in a series he has written.

Rabbi Cahn is upset with the “feminist” aspect to the movie, obviously. And, yes! The character of the Ken doll is an “accessory” or prop for Barbie and her adventures.

But so what! How Cahn can compare Ken & Barbie to ancient Mesopotamian deities seems ludicrous and out of place.

The action figure G.I. Joe was created by the toy company Hasbro in 1964 five years after the debut of Barbie. In essence Barbie, Ken, G.I. Joe and others like them are action-figures. To imply or see them as anything other than that is well, childish.

“Barbie” continues at the Sebastiani Theater in Sonoma until August 24 with both afternoon and evening showings. For more information visit the Sebastiani Theater website.