#I can't even recognise myself in the evil one

[bilolli]

Good/Evil art style.

[xanderjkz]

Charlie Dalton- Misery Behind Walls

I finally figured out what makes Charlie's character such an interesting one (from my perspective)

There are alot of interpretations of his character but what the fandom can agree the most on is that this mf cares about his friends. Almost in a way that is above regular standard.

Okay sounds weird but why did I say it when it's never really shown? Well he often is in the moment when the other poet has a breakthrough in the movie. When evil Tom literally made Neil's day worse, he was the first to speak to him. But to base this little theory on a bigger proof I'd like you to remind the only scene where this big care is vocalised:

"Fiete you're going insane!" I'll be not be misinformed about my state of mind! Let's move on! He literally asks so many damn questions that Knox gets annoyed with it. And the tone Charlie uses in that scene isn't one to mock him or put Knox in question. He's just curious if Knox has thought this through. Because he cares!

But why? What is so damn interesting about this dude caring? What makes Charlie the way he is?

Charlie somewhat hides his care for his friends behind the nice wall of Humour. Humour is beautiful, it's Twistingly and contently a nice way of escapism. Humour is provoking a peal of laughter out of someone and that's what Charlie does. But over the years when you use this way of coping you start to twist in the wrong way. It's a wonder how anyone who uses this type of coping mechanism can even recognise themselves in the mirror. After a while, you hide your internal feelings behind a wall too. For yourself you become unrecognisable.

But why?

It's established in the first 10 minutes of the movie that Charlie is from a family of bankers who are fond of him continuing the legacy. And we know that he is from a wealthy family. And most wealthy kid trope in media follows the structure of pressure and unobtainable views. Wealthy people don't want to be touched by anything lower. So they have to obtain this image of untouchability. This is probably the way Charlie has been raised. Money is more important. And like most wealthy kids, they get neglected for that money.

Every kid wants love. And this is what Charlie probably chased. And still is. And love can be interpreted in lots of ways but as I see in myself, I always tried to get attention so they think of me. If they can't love me, then I should at least linger on their minds. So what's the quickest way to gain attention and potential Recognition?

(Here he more tries to loud than funny but the need for the same thing is still there)

He started to build his personality in a way that would later bring him to complete self-isolation. He doesn't give a fuck about money. And he most definitely doesn't want to go down the same way his father did. But something in him always wanted that recognition, so he didn't go against anything.

But then Keating happened

So we made clear that something inside him can't separate personality from coping, right? So what happens when a teacher comes around with the opinion to go against the system? Doubt? Anger? Or fascination?

Visionary

Charlie, if asked, def would've told you that life comes to him how it wants to be. As long as he makes his friends happy, then he is fine. Not happy but fine. So when Keating tries to bring new things into the mix, everybody began to rethink their story.

Todd got more comfortable

Neil pursued something he always wanted

Knox got the guts to ask a girl out

So what's up for Charlie? He becomes vulnerable with himself. As he lost his personality in humour so did the familiarity with himself. So every lesson he becomes more bold and Indulgent in poetry and the revolution.

But a journey to find oneself takes long. God a 16-year-old won't find it within 4 months. But for what it's worth he tries. Throughout the movie, these boys drift apart from tradition and self-destructive ideologies. The first time Charlie makes this change in his consciousness is this one:

(Love how he looks in the angle)

Doing poetry doesn't bring attention to himself, not in the way we established he needs. So why is he doing this now?

"You yap too much, we get it" well fuck you, I'm getting to the better part

The reason for his somewhat impulsive reaction is the way he saw himself in Keating. Keating is a poet, but Charlie at first doesn't care about that. What he does care about is the cheeky way Keating moves his lips. From the comments about Meeks and Pitts names to the way he openly makes a name for himself. He thinks of Keating as this older version of himself. And he doesn't know what to do with it.

(Again this is going on in his head without him actually verbalising it to himself. Everybody does that, just writing it down)

So now this boy is chasing something he thinks can bring him to the Keating kind of level. In this path, he slowly becomes more radical with his thoughts, in a way that is pushing things over the edge. But in a boiling kind of way.

First, we have him ripping out the page. Then, the playboy scene and then this one:

I'd like to believe that this was the first time that his inner self formed a sentence. In scenes before that one, he is fidgeting around, trying to really get into it. He liked what he heard. And while he is still clinging to this version poisoned on humour, he's getting out of it. BUT

This scene is where he lets himself go. And it's safe to assume that something must have happened between the pic before and now. What is it? Heck, I know. All I know is that he tested the water and realised it's alright. (Again he is a 16-year-old boy, every 16-year-old has doubts) so everytime we do see him in the cave, he's wearing the damn hat.

So what have we established:

He cares deeply for his friends

He hides his need for recognition behind jokes

He somehow lost himself in it

He sees himself in Keating

Then learns how to be his inner self again (partly)

And he's doing poetry! Or Poetrusic...

But why did I say partly? Well, this movie is called DEAD Poets Society. And who died at the end of the movie? Ofc His CHILDHOOD best friend Neil. (This is heavily implied but even if they aren't, Neil was the closest to Charlie). He was probably the first person to know about it and definitely jumped into impulsiveness. In a way where he takes over the responsibility. Let's be real if this was at the beginning of the story he would've been one to be non-functioning but after he got his punishment and faced his worst, he knew that there are things to not be self-centered about. It's obvious that Charlie told the others. I mean, these boys look so distributed that they definitely couldn't form any sentence to the others. So it is Charlie. It had to be.

But he does let his emotions out. Not vocalising them but he shows the others that he understands. Particularly in three scenes:

1.

2.

3.

( I literally wrote something AMAZING BUT FFS TUMBLR DELETED IT)

These scenes show him care and breaking. He let's his voice break while shoving snow into Todd's mouth. To clean Todd and to drown his thoughts aswell. He has to be there but God he breaks. Because he cared

He cared so damn much for Neil. And it was that stupid system that took him away. His inner self is caring, Poetic and confronting. But how?

With all his emotions that are directed at the system regarding Neil's death, he does his first rebellion. And that not singing. The singing is only a recognition of the fact that evil Tom isn't at fault. Being in the front row and not singing? Fucking provoking.

So what's next? Now that he has found his last finding piece? The confronting kind? Not the part hiding behind humour? (If you notice he hasn't cracked a joke since Neil offed. Ofc bc the times are dark but he could've said one after the funeral. But he didn't, he was just angry)

Well....

His last scene.

He knew what would happen once Cameron walked away. He knows his roommate too much. But the reason why he punched Cameron wasn't for the fact that they couldn't work it out on the remix but more for the fact that he saw Cameron as the system. As Cameron kept digging, Charlie thought that this was the way out. Every person who experienced grief knows it's all over the place and often not understandable. If I could explain it, I would say that he had the hope of starting the rebellion needed. But he couldn't.

He failed at confronting it to its most effective stage.

He managed to comfort his friends, he managed to change his mind. But sometimes confronting ends at the start.

But it was he who failed, not the mindset. It was the rest but most importantly todd who continued it...

It's sad to not hear anything after his expulsion but I think it would be even more heartbreaking. Charlie is a lot of things but the most important one is that he is a boy. Utterly experiencing things he shouldn't have. To think that he ended his time at Welton, disproving the thing he mostly cared for (which was attention to himself) just to find himself while so is...beautiful. He broke free and now has to be alone to find his future. This is both tragic and hope-fulfilling. Wherever he ended up, I hope Charlie learned to deal with Neil's death as well...

Or I'm delusional and he's just a 16-year-old boy without depth.

Again characters are always up for debate and everyone has their interpretation. I finally wrote down mine and think it's important to share. Do with it what you want but please remain polite. Except when you crack a joke

I want jokes 🔥

[kindaorangey]

do you have thoughts about The Ark boys and ocd? absolutely no pressure to share if you don't want to but i reread IWBFT this year and recently realised i have ocd so would love to know what you think :))

yes i do! idk if you've already seen these posts i made about it, but i'll try not to repeat myself here in case u have seen them already lolol

the thing about OCD (or, just general obsessive-compulsive behaviour) is that it's profoundly isolating, especially before you know what the name even is for what you're going through - obsessive thoughts will make you believe you're broken and violent and evil (and therefore that that you shouldn't be allowed to be near other people) and compulsions have an internal logic to them that falls apart once you try to explain it out loud. it is a deeply stigmatised disorder because the symptoms in isolation are regarded with massive scepticism at best and outright disgust and fear at worst.

all of this to say, i think a common theme among the main characters in IWBFT is that they think they're fighting an inescapable battle that no-one can understand, and so they keep it inside rather than reaching out. it's especially true with jimmy and fereshteh, since we see their inner dialogue, but if you look at the way the others behave, they're all keeping stuff inside because they don't know where to begin with talking about it (rowan especially, emotionally repressed king) and... well, i think that theme lends itself nicely to understanding some of the ark boys' behaviour as obsessive-compulsive behaviour.

jimmy tries to explain his paranoia when prompted, and is met with explanations of why his thoughts are irrational - which is important to recognise, but doesn't actually stop his spirals, doesn't stop him from obsessively fantasizing about his own death or holding his knife for comfort. he's still fighting a battle he can't articulate, because he doesn't understand his own behaviour as obsessive-compulsive.

and i like to think of the three of them a few years after IWBFT, when they're all in therapy and they start to get an understanding of obsessions and compulsions. they all thought they were fighting a battle no-one could understand, when in reality, they were all going through much of the same thing, though their specific obsessions and compulsions might differ. <3

[would-you-punt-them]

I don't know how you do it, but I haven't recognized any of these characters (except having a very vague idea of who William Afton is) and just looking at the pictures, I almost always decide to punt. Something about the pictures you choose (I think it's their typical facial expressions combined with the angle of their heads but idk) makes my go my foot is ready. Special shout outs go to the two falling anime girls, who were coming down at the most optimal punting trajectory possible, and the Kirby dude, who was soccerball shaped for my convenience. Also, turns out I can't bring myself to kick a cat, no matter how evil he(?) might be.

actually, the truth is i also don't recognise the vast majority of the characters you guys submit

honestly, sometimes i think you guys are speaking in tongues

the thing is, even though i sometimes joke that i literally have no applicable skills other than tumblr polls, that's not entirely true

turns out, after 7 months of running @hot-take-tournament i have developed exactly one applicable skill

i've never once received a take on a fandom i'm familiar with, so when i make polls and puns and personalised yes/no responses i always do it from scratch

as a result, i've gained the ability to scour the internet for information on pretty much anything extremely quickly

and i am able to use that in real life, it genuinely really helps at college

to give you an idea of how fast i am, when i get a lot of punting submissions all at once, sometimes i like to set myself a time limit of 15 minutes and then see how many characters i can research and poll within that time

not to brag, but my current personal best is 16

that's a poll on a character i know nothing about, complete with a picture and popular fandom tags, queued every 52 seconds

so basically, i don't recognise the characters, but give me a dedicated half hour and i'll know all your blorbos better than you do

[tartarduck]

words about tot chapter 9

Gave myself a solid day to stew in my thoughts about ch9 and I just want to say that mihoyo is EVIL for timing it right before the anniversary. I don't know if I can be happy knowing Luke is suffering all alone in every conceivable universe other than his personal story/card timeline.

Point 1: How the chapter explored Luke's feelings of guilt for... Existing I guess?

I've been eagerly awaiting the reveal of Luke's survivor's guilt. The whole [wanting spirits to exist so he can at least apologise, or do SOMETHING, but knowing they don't] is such exquisite angst. I'm very happy they took the effort to write it in (though fortune tellers actually scare me in real life).

And now onto the related Point 2: Luke's feelings of guilt for literally everything else

I was reading through Luke's birthday greetings, and realised how often he calls himself greedy for literally wanting anything. God damn, SHE IS YOUR GIRLFRIEND IT'S NOT GREEDY OF YOU TO WANT TO SPEND TIME WITH HER --

That aside, it comes back to the theme of Luke Pearce's thought process, which in my brain goes a little something like this:

Good thing happens -> I do not deserve this

Bad thing happens -> It is completely my fault and no one else's

Which, might I add, vaguely reminded me of something from a lecture I forgot from my psych undergrad years. I'm worried for you, Luke. Please, Dr Yishmir, refer him to one of your colleagues for mental health.

In his personal 'route', he finally starts to come around with the idea that sometimes bad things... just happen and it's no one's fault (thank you, strategically placed rainbow in iridescent heartbeat). But in the main story? He's been feeling guilty ever since he saw MC after avoiding her for YEARS. There's no Aaron meddling with the two of them, or MC helping him clean his mess of a house to kick-start a card story. This is the man who hid in the attic after sending his confession after a YEAR of dates with MC -- the main story doesn't even give him a chance to start forgiving himself.

Basically, Luke Pearce is a mess in the main story, because everything that makes him un-messy happens by pure chance.

Point 3: Luke's black and white thinking of good and bad

One of the highlights of this chapter for me was Luke's anecdote about him faking a cold so MC would go out with her other friends and forget about him. Now, that's all well and good until he compares himself to the mum with Munchausen's syndrome, who is the closest thing we get to a 'villain' in this chapter. On top of his guilt, this whole I'm either a good or completely bad person mindset is really not doing favours for his mental health.

His anecdote also happens to be an interesting parallel to shape of you, because I remember Luke specifically wished to be forgotten in that card. He wants what's best for MC (because he thinks that he's taking everyone's love from her) but he also wants something for himself. And because he doesn't believe he's able to do both, but also because he isn't able to let go of his 'selfishness' sometimes, he thinks he's an awful person.

And now, to the last to do in my rant agenda.

Point 4: what happens in chapter 12. (Spoilers for CN server, but only about the Luke scene)

1. Ohmygod. He's going to run away. I can't see main story Luke NOT blaming himself for nearly hurting the MC. In whichever timeline, his priority is to keep her safe, and god, if he thinks he's a danger to her, the only way to keep her safe would be by disappearing again.

2. I'm going to read too much into this but MC trying to get Luke to recognise her while she's being pinned to the ground is such delectable angst. He's always worried that she'd forget about him -- whether it was the 8 years or literally just hanging out with other kids at school. But here she is, in a situation where he's essentially forgotten about her. The voice that my brain concocted up for MC was extra desperate in that scene.

Anyway, that's all I had to say about the recent main story developments in ToT. Keep the angst coming, writing staff. What a power move to send this out right before anniversary on BOTH servers. If there's anything I've taken away from this, it's that Luke stans are absolutely unhinged. Twitter circle people, I see you requesting more angst. How can we get even angstier than Luke nearly hurting MC while he's dressed in the outfit that he wears for his proposal card ??

[crownmemes]

Fringe Sentences, Vol. 5

(Sentences from Fringe (2008-2013). Adjust phrasing where needed)

"God has a far more disturbed sense of humour than even I could have imagined."

"I've seen some pretty disturbing things in my time working with you and I think I've handled them pretty well, but this? I don't think I can do this."

"Are you sure you want to do this? Submit yourself to these experiments?"

"There are times when the only choices you have left are bad ones."

"You're trying to create a wormhole into another universe?"

"There has to be a line somewhere. There has to be a line we can't cross."

"Please. I need you not to doubt me."

"You're not my father, are you?"

"When you open your mind to the impossible, sometimes you find the truth."

"You know, this past year is the longest I've ever stayed in one place."

"I may not be the gumshoe you are, but I've got some skills!"

"I've been a little foggy as to your motives."

"Grief can drive people to extraordinary lengths."

"I need a corpse. Any corpse will do, but it shouldn't have been dead for more than two days."

"It's important to take control of one's life."

"What kind of doctor are you? You're not even trying!"

"You probably don't believe that love at first sight exists, but I assure you, it does."

"Why not bring a little life to the dead, I say!"

"It must be nice to know who you are - to know your place in the world."

"Don't you know? All good stories start with 'once upon a time', and they end with 'happily ever after'."

"What is it that makes you special?"

"I'm not hallucinating, and I'm not paranoid, and I'm not questioning my own sanity!"

"What if he won't forgive me?"

"I can't ask them to do something that I'm not willing to chance myself!"

"What I'm about to tell you is classified, but I think it's about time you knew what you were dealing with."

"You've been asleep for three days!"

"They have absolutely fabulous drugs here! I feel great!"

"I know what you did to me! I know that you cut out pieces of my brain!"

"When I'm nervous, I cook, and I've been making pies for over a week!"

"Sometimes I feel like I'm stuck in one of those bad buddy cop movies."

"Your tie - I think you have a little bit of brain on it."

"You've forgotten what it's like to feel emotions!"

"I can't answer that. There is no answer. It's a mathematical question without a solution."

"If he has no pulse, then why is he still breathing?"

"Don't worry, I do some of my finest work self-medicated!"

"You're in over your head. You're not fully committed to this task, and because of that, you will fail."

"You can keep on telling yourself that you're fine, but you're not fine!"

"Nature doesn't recognise good and evil. Nature only recognises balance and imbalance."

[bellafemme]

The letter Sinead wrote to Miley Cyrus.

'Dear Miley,

I wasn't going to write this letter, but today i've been dodging phone calls from various newspapers who wished me to remark upon your having said in Rolling Stone your Wrecking Ball video was designed to be similar to the one for Nothing Compares … So this is what I need to say … And it is said in the spirit of motherliness and with love.

I am extremely concerned for you that those around you have led you to believe, or encouraged you in your own belief, that it is in any way 'cool' to be naked and licking sledgehammers in your videos. It is in fact the case that you will obscure your talent by allowing yourself to be pimped, whether its the music business or yourself doing the pimping.

Nothing but harm will come in the long run, from allowing yourself to be exploited, and it is absolutely NOT in ANY way an empowerment of yourself or any other young women, for you to send across the message that you are to be valued (even by you) more for your xesual appeal than your obvious talent.I am happy to hear I am somewhat of a role model for you and I hope that because of that you will pay close attention to what I am telling you.

The music business doesn't give a s**t about you, or any of us. They will prostitute you for all you are worth, and cleverly make you think its what YOU wanted … and when you end up in rehab as a result of being prostituted, 'they' will be sunning themselves on their yachts in Antigua, which they bought by selling your body and you will find yourself very alone.

None of the men ogling you give a s**t about you either, do not be fooled. Many's the woman mistook lust for love. If they want you xesually that doesn't mean they give a f**k about you. All the more true when you unwittingly give the impression you don't give much of a f**k about yourself. And when you employ people who give the impression they don't give much of a fµck about you either. No one who cares about you could support your being pimped … and that includes you yourself.

Yes, I'm suggesting you don't care for yourself. That has to change. You ought be protected as a precious young lady by anyone in your employ and anyone around you, including you. This is a dangerous world. We don't encourage our daughters to walk around naked in it because it makes them prey for animals and less than animals, a distressing majority of whom work in the music industry and it's associated media.

You are worth more than your body or your xesual appeal. The world of showbiz doesn't see things that way, they like things to be seen the other way, whether they are magazines who want you on their cover, or whatever … Don't be under any illusions … ALL of them want you because they're making money off your youth and your beauty … which they could not do except for the fact your youth makes you blind to the evils of show business. If you have an innocent heart you can't recognise those who do not.

I repeat, you have enough talent that you don't need to let the music business make a prostitute of you. You shouldn't let them make a fool of you either. Don't think for a moment that any of them give a flying f**k about you. They're there for the money… we're there for the music. It has always been that way and it will always be that way. The sooner a young lady gets to know that, the sooner she can be REALLY in control.

You also said in Rolling Stone that your look is based on mine. The look I chose, I chose on purpose at a time when my record company were encouraging me to do what you have done. I felt I would rather be judged on my talent and not my looks. I am happy that I made that choice, not least because I do not find myself on the proverbial rag heap now that I am almost 47 yrs of age … which unfortunately many female artists who have based their image around their sexuality, end up on when they reach middle age.

Real empowerment of yourself as a woman would be to in future refuse to exploit your body or your sexuality in order for men to make money from you. I needn't even ask the question … I've been in the business long enough to know that men are making more money than you are from you getting naked. Its really not at all cool. And its sending dangerous signals to other young women. Please in future say no when you are asked to prostitute yourself. Your body is for you and your boyfriend. It isn't for every spunk-spewing dirtbag on the net, or every greedy record company executive to buy his mistresses diamonds with.

As for the shedding of the Hannah Montana image … whoever is telling you getting naked is the way to do that does absolutely NOT respect your talent, or you as a young lady. Your records are good enough for you not to need any shedding of Hannah Montana. She's waaaaaaay gone by now … Not because you got naked but because you make great records.

Whether we like it or not, us females in the industry are role models and as such we have to be extremely careful what messages we send to other women. The message you keep sending is that its somehow cool to be prostituted … its so not cool Miley … its dangerous. Women are to be valued for so much more than their sexuality. We aren't merely objects of desire. I would be encouraging you to send healthier messages to your peers … that they and you are worth more than what is currently going on in your career. Kindly fire any motherf****r who hasn't expressed alarm, because they don't care about you.'

She warned Miley and she warned the world about priests raping children. Nobody took her seriously.

Rest In Peace. 🌹

[gothyanki]

I'm curious about how other githyanki Tav/Durge players rationalise Voss almost completely ignoring the PC in favour of Lae'zel when he visits camp. It's so funny to me, but also comes with a huge amount of characterisation/backstory potential?? Almost everything else in Act 1 is SUPER reactive to a githyanki PC (a lot of the crèche dialogue is different, right down to the most minor one-line NPCs), which makes it stand out even more. Even this conversation is quite reactive, with plenty of origin-specific lines - almost all of which Voss passes over to continue focusing on Lae'zel.

Sticking the rest of this behind a readmore because it's longer/mostly just me yakking about headcanons re: my own PC and Voss (+ some images):

Live reaction shot of Vin'ath after Voss names Lae'zel "Sister in Freedom" and says the two of them - just the two of them! - will be their people's light:

♫ hello darkness my old friend ♫

Voss’ dismissal of Vin actually fits right in with the backstory I gave them - they fell out of the crèche system as a teenager after their capture + rescue by a fellow outsider from a society deemed "evil" by DnD rules + accidental partial cult deprogramming. That means they're 1. already on board the "fuck Vlaakith" train (though they'd never have dared to so much as fantasise about taking the fight to her - their childhood trauma is the one exception to their "run after it and whack it as hard as you can" approach to problems) and 2. in a complicated insider-outsider position with regards to githyanki society. Voss seems to see Lae'zel as a protégée - I think she reminds him of himself when he was young, and also of other highly talented/dedicated warriors who've served under him. Compared to her, Vin's just a bunch of confusing mixed social signals and ??? motives.

Vin'ath pretends they couldn't care less about this - Lae'zel's the one who can't stop talking about silver swords and red dragons! They let go of that desperate craving for a superior officer's approval a long time ago! - but they are

I think they (unwisely) end up confronting him about what he thinks of them at some point in Baldur's Gate. Voss gives them a devastating "I don't think about you at all" kind of response, but he is ALSO

because given what he wants to do, I think he'd be unwillingly intrigued by a very-young-from-his-perspective githyanki who's already thrown off the shackles of Vlaakith's rule/the crèche system (to some degree - more on that later!) The fact that they did it by accident, moreover, has to be borderline infuriating.

This is the point where I admit I haven't had enough uninterrupted playtime to get far with Act 3 yet (I have spoiled myself extensively via youtube videos, though), so I don't know how the scene where Voss gifts the silver sword goes for a githyanki Tav. If it's similar to the non-githyanki scene and Voss passes over them AGAIN to give the sword to Lae'zel, I'm going to howl with laughter. And Vin's going to have that long-awaited breakdown not react at ALL and be FINE because they DON'T CARE. They DON'T CARE AT ALL that this celebrated hero of their people they grew up hearing stories about is standing right there not recognising their efforts. Kith'rak WHO???? He's not even that cool in person and they are DEFINITELY not flashing back to the starry-eyed adolescent crush they had on him. Shuuuut uuuuup.

[samobservessonic]

Another tale from Mark Millar, this time opening with Tails coming across “Sonic trapped in a TV” and being tricked into letting him loose. Now, I’ve not read this story myself, but I immediately recognised that first image of whoever this fake Sonic is from around tumblr, so I assume it must be a somewhat decently-known story and therefore I’m looking forward to getting into it

One thing I like here is that they show the small animals working together to create a hideout free from Robotnik. It’s already been established that Sonic has a base somewhere, but seeing the others making one has me once again going “Ooh are we getting closer to the Freedom Fighters being established??” Anyway, as you can probably guess, fake Sonic turns up and smashes their work to the ground

My obligatory “Look, it’s Sally!” part. They even directly call her Sally here. She’s helping to put out the forest fire started by the fake Sonic

As you can probably imagine, the (somewhat wall-eyed) real Sonic shows up to put a stop to his name being tarnished. I mean, the easy joke to make here would be that StC Sonic is kind of an asshole anyway, but at least his actions are always good, even if his words aren’t. However, he’s not fast enough to stop the animal folk believing that he was the one who did the damage

Hey look, StC also did the “Sally banishing Sonic due to a misunderstanding” thing years before Archie did as well lol

…But that’s also dealt with on the same page, when the fake Sonic shows up. I can’t help but wonder how people would’ve reacted if that one plot in Archie had resolved with Sally going “Apology’s in the post, Sonic”. Actually, maybe they should’ve resolved The Slap by having Sally say that, too. Although having brought up The Slap, I'm honour-bound to add that everyone needs to get off Jon Gray’s case about The Slap, but I’m far from the first person to say that

Tails has figured out a way to get rid of this guy, by trapping him back in the TV. At which point, we get an explanation as to what this fake is - an Extra Life! Once again, StC taking something from the early games and putting a unique spin on it. In this universe, back when he was good, Dr. Kintobor made the power-ups to help Sonic. Kintobor probably didn’t intend for the extra lives to be sentient or to become resentful, though Perhaps there’s a peaceful way they can come to an understanding abou-

-Nope! Punt him into space!

And that’s the end of that! I looked it up because I was curious, but this is the only appearance of Extra Life in the series and I think that’s kind of a missed opportunity. Evil Sonic clones are hardly a rare concept in this franchise, though I think this might’ve been one of the first, at least outside of the games. But I’ve never seen it handled in this way before. It brings up questions about if there are lots of other Extra Lives, who all also have sentience, or if Extra Life was the only on in the StC world and he’s now been effectively dealt with His situation was incredibly fucked up and that had room to be explored, but because he was generically evil and destructive, the story rooted for getting rid of him in the fastest way possible. Given all the dimension and space-exploring that happens in StC later, there would’ve been loads of chances to revisit this early concept if they’d wanted to, but alas, it wasn’t to be

Needless to say, I really enjoyed this one and understand why it’s so popular! Admittedly, the last few issues have been kind of coasting for me - not bad per say, but also not grabbing my attention - but this one really was a lot of fun. And Sally got to be in it a lot, which I always like

My only gripe was that it seemed like they were setting Tails up to have a bigger role and I hoped he might finally be getting a chance to shine, but that wasn’t how it panned out this time. I suppose Tails has a long career of chasing Sonic’s shadow ahead of him in StC, but I can't help but want the kid to catch a break soon

[hermespie]

Prompt: Kokichi felt dumbfounded, care for myself? This robot just knew him for what, weeks? Not even in months, and is now teaching him to care for himself?

Pairings: k1B0 X Kokichi ouma

A/N: I just wrote this for funsies again, cause I really love kiibouma and I just can't stop writing for them. Angst or not🤭 please do enjoy tho!

" That's right, I'm the mastermind! "

This should do it.

This should do it right?

He stood in front of everyone, the grin in his face stays while everyone else frown in despair.

The truth that all of them had been waiting for was right in front of their eyes. The moment of silence where everyone tried to take in what he just said made him more excited. Just how he anticipated.

Proud of himself, he continued blabbering on how he had planned all of this from the very beginning,taking small glimpse of the crowd, trying to find any small details of clues the real mastermind might be giving.

They might've never thought this would ever gonna happen, the look on their face must be priceless. He thought to himself.

His vision shifts from one to the other, but it stayed on a certain someone.

The metallic body stood still, expression full of doubt and confusion, it's like he's trying to convince himself that this isn't happening. Maybe about the truth of the world outside of the killing game they hoped to escape to has actually been a disaster for decades. Or maybe about the truth of the mastermind that ouma unfolded itself.

It couldn't be the latter, ouma thought to himself. Shrugging his shoulders as he quickly shift his vision towards the others.

It's not like that robo-boy actually felt betrayed by him. He never promised anything from the beginning.

But why is there an annoying pit starting to grow inside of him?

Why does his heart aches while looking at that robot's face of disbelief?

Why does he feel like explaining everything to him and making him believe that this isn't who he is, and all of this is just a skit to save all of them?

Stop.

Ouma calmed himself down immediately. This skit is inevitable. It's what he needs to do to end this boring killing game. He's an actor in this lowly game and the show must go on.

And just when everyone is done with his BS speech, he left.

This should do it. Now the killing game is over because no one would have any motive for attempting murder anymore. Now that's out of our concern, the mastermind should've shown some signs by now-

"Ouma!"

A familiar voice interrupted kokichi's rail of thoughts as the voice called onto him abruptly.

It wasn't hard to recognise that voice when you've already heard from it for such a long time.

Kokichi simply stopped walking and stood still, with both of his hands hugging at the back of his head.

"what's the matter kii-boy? Don't tell me you didn't get what I meant earlier."

He turned around and locked eyes with that metallic figure standing in front of him, putting up a grin on his face, continuing the show.

"I'm the mastermind! And you know what you shouldn't do , now that you know whose the mastermind? Interact with them!"

He left that comment down and turned his head away, ready to continue advancing forward until kiibo sped up his motion, catching up to him, stopping him from doing so.

"Ouma. You're not the mastermind."

Funny.

"And what makes you think that?"

His tone turned a bit serious but was quickly shifted away when he put on his evil grin back.

"Could you please just look at me seriously for once?!"

Kiibo raised his voice, which is something unusual he would do. It frightened kokichi for a bit but intrigue wins over nevertheless. Kokichi's expression was immediately shifted back before kiibo could notice his surprised look. He doesn't want to surrender in this game of truth.

"I.. I really don't know why you're convincing everyone to think you're the mastermind. But knowing you, I'm sure you have your reasons. But do you ever think of the consequences that will lead to you if you do this?"

"Why-"

'Why do you care' was what kokichi was about to say but kiibo couldn't bother to let kokichi finish another one of his acts, one of his lies.

"Everyone would despise you! And even if in the end when the real mastermind reveals their identity, they wouldn't bother to apologise or to make amends for hurting you!"

So that's what he's worried about? About him being hated by the others? That's just funny honestly, cause kokichi really don't mind any of this at all.

Kokichi felt like laughing out loud, his grin grows even wider, almost letting out his laughter.

"Why can't you care for yourself more?!"

kiibo's robo-arms heavily rested onto his shoulders as he grips them tightly, slightly shaking kokichi, as if that could throw some sense in him.

Kokichi felt dumbfounded, care for myself? This robot just knew him for what, weeks? Not even in months, and is now teaching him to care for himself?

"You said that as if you meant that you care about me. Well, that's just funny! Seriously kii-boy, What do you even know about me?"

Kiibo was taken aback by his sudden commentary but quickly gained back his position.

"I don't need to know who you are to care for you."

"True, but we're in a killing game kii-boy. You can't apply that excuse in this situation"

"I-"

"Face it kii-boy. I don't know why you're out here yapping your points at me, but this is the truth and it will remain this way. "

He pushed kiibo's hands away from his shoulder and it lands back to the sides of his torso airily.

" I'm grateful that you tried to believe in me though! Too bad I'm not that much of a sweetheart you think I am ! Too-da-loo—!"

Kokichi said in a carefree tone as he quickly left the area, leaving kiibo alone, standings till at where he was before his vision left him.

God damn it..

Anger slowly started rising inside of him as he walked back to his dorm room. The way that robot looks at him, full of concern and.. care just plays with his temper.

I don't need to know who you are to care for you.

He groaned as kiibo's voice started flowing into his mind. Why? Why did he say that? Why did it actually feel like he cared for him?

He shouldn't be. Anyone shouldn't be.

He shut the dorm room harshly and immediately melted, leaning on the door.

Why is this so hard?

He hugged both of his knees, planting his face under, trying to get his mind out of anything about that conversation.

His hand slowly shifted towards his shoulders, the warmth of kiibo's hand was long gone. But somehow he could still feel the warm fuzzy feeling in his heart.

"That's disgusting"

Gripping onto his shoulder tightly, he pouted out words for no one to listen except himself.

Though he knows how much of a lie that was.

[doing-something-unholy]

Father's Dream

Father Adrian has had some... interesting dreams here lately. But what could possibly be causing them?

CW // dubcon, cnc, monsterfucking, body horror, unreality? 

I am alone in the nave, tidying up after evening mass. The altar servers were already sent home, my vestments put away, and straightening up the last few misplaced hymnal books meant that I could leave too. But, not yet.

The atmosphere in the church at dusk is so calm and quiet, I take a few moments to breathe it in. The last rays of sunset set the stained glass windows alight, color beaming across the faint trails of incense smoke still drifting through the air. This church is my sanctuary, my second home, my passion project. One would hardly recognise it from the near-ruin it used to be in, and I couldn’t be more proud of the way this parish came together to restore it. I’ve spent so long in this building, so much of myself is poured into it: blood, sweat, and tears into everything here. It’s as close as I’ll ever come to Heaven on Earth, and I am grateful for the respite from the noise in my head within these walls. My soft footsteps are the only thing that breaks the silence as I walk back to the altar.

I place a reverent hand on the very edge, leaning down to place a soft, barely-there kiss to the cold stone before kneeling on the steps in front of it. I fold my hands together, resting on the edge of the altar, my head bowed between my arms. It's not the most comfortable spot or position to pray, but it feels apt. Maybe the strain in my muscles and the ache in my knees will keep any other thoughts out of my head. 

Which I can avoid no longer. Now that the church is empty, and I’m unlikely to be disturbed, I want to talk with Him.

“Our Father, Who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name; Thy kingdom come; Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread; and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us; and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.

Amen.”

My voice is barely a whisper, but it echoes off every wall and the effect is chilling: a whole choir of voices surrounding me, and I can only hope it's the voices of Saints and Angels, and not… well…

“Please, Oh Lord, lead me not into temptation. You know the strength of my spirit and I trust You not to test me to destruction, but… Please, I- I can't sleep. Deliver me from these… nightmares. Protect me from the demon that hides in my dreams, Lord. I submit to Your Glory and accept that I need Your divine intervention.”

My own whispers twist and echo back at me, like an audience discussing my ‘performance.’ 

I wish they were nightmares.

I wish I couldn’t say that for a brief moment, every morning I wake after one of those beau- Damned dreams that it is the most relaxed I’ve ever been. I wish I didn’t have to wake up loose-limbed and at-peace and smiling only to have it crash down around me as I remember who I’m supposed to be.

I wish I could say that I hated those dreams.

But even now, hazy images flicker through my mind, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. And certainly nothing else rising. The guilt at thinking these things in a church, in my church, is almost too much. I’ve been staying up later and later to avoid sleeping, but someone is going to notice the growing bags under my eyes eventually. But mostly it’s the toll the stress has been taking on me. I’ve always been an anxious person, but I didn’t used to jump when parishioners knocked on my door. 

The shame is killing me, the eyes of God and His angels stare into me like red-hot brands, seeing the stain upon my soul. Hopefully He also sees how desperate I am for this to end, and I will be spared.

I stay in place for a long moment, willing the ache in my body to clear my head. It’s not as straining as I thought to sit like this, so I can stand to stay here as long as it takes to replace the thoughts in my head with the soreness of my knees. The church is so still and quiet, my eyes fall shut in silent prayer, breathing deeply and slowly. I don’t know how long I stay there, surrendered to the Lord.

I can hardly bear looking up toward the crucifix hanging on the back wall of the sanctuary. It's no sooner that I make eye contact with Christ that the hair on the back of my neck stands up.

I don't know how I know, but something in the air has shifted. I can't seem to move. Someone- no, something is behind me.

There's a faint whisper in my ear.

"Father…"

I turn suddenly, plastering myself against the altar, heart racing. There's no one there.

Obviously, I am being ridiculous, there can’t possibly be anyone there. There's no reason my heart should be leaping into my throat. Just an overactive imagination, I am jumping at nothing, again.

I'm glad I decided to opt for a clerical suit today instead of the cassock, I'd have made a fool of myself tripping over the skirts. I pick myself up off the step, embarrassed and ready to spend another sleepless night in my office, but I hardly get upright again when I can see movement towards the front door of the church.

The votive candles flicker, the flames guttering. They shouldn't be, there's no wind in here. My stomach drops when they go out entirely, the dim red glow from the windows and the few candles left on the altar behind me are the only lights in the church now.

For a long, tense moment, nothing happens and I think I might be able to just leave when there's a soft purring growl from behind me. 

Every muscle in my body tenses. 

I can't move, even when I can hear something huge shift its weight and the breath leaves my lungs when a large clawed hand lands softly on the back of my neck. The claws gently scrape my scalp as it drags its hand up through my hair. I shiver at the feeling of it, goosebumps breaking out on my arms. 

The hand abruptly grabs a fistful of my hair and pulls my head back, making me gasp and look up to see an inhuman face peering down at me. 

A wicked grin reveals sharp teeth in it's short muzzle, two pairs of bright mischievous eyes staring down at me from under elegantly arched horns. The same gilded eyes that have haunted my wet dreams nightmares for weeks now. It must see the horrified recognition on my face, because it laughs, a rumbling chuckle that I'm mortified to realize makes my pulse pick up for the wrong reasons. 

“We finally meet face to face, Father, and you look so scared? You never seemed so off-put before.” It’s voice is a seductive purr, and it goes through me like fire. 

“L-let go of me. I c-command you to let go of me,” My voice comes out so much weaker than I hoped, “In- In nomine Pat– mmpph!”

A hand slaps down against my mouth, cutting me off. 

“Oh, don’t be like that, priest. Let me have my fun first.” There’s a grin in its voice as it watches me struggle to pull its hand away and wiggle out of its grasp. The grip in my hair slowly tightens until it hurts, making me cry out beneath the hand on my mouth. It’s only when I go limp, stop fighting that they- it, loosens up.

“What a quick learner. Good boy.” It leans down and whispers the last two words into my ear, and the effect is immediate and devastating. I can feel the pull of arousal in my gut, and goosebumps down my arms. It just laughs above me, this close to it I can feel its chest rumble.

“There we go, just like in your delicious dreams.” The hand comes away from my mouth, but before I can say anything it wraps around my throat instead. My breath catches as it puts just the slightest pressure on my neck, the claws little pin-pricks against the skin.

“Are you going to be a good boy for me, Father? This doesn't have to be so difficult, sweetheart…” Its voice vibrates against my ear and I can’t suppress a shiver. 

“No… p-please…” I feel pathetic for begging a demon to spare me, but there’s nothing else I can do. I don’t want this, I can’t want this, I can’t convince myself I don’t want this let alone convince them. 

It still has one hand in my hair and the other wrapped around my neck, and I yelp in surprise when I feel two more land on my waist and glide up and around to my chest. I can feel the thing smile against the side of my face, amused by my every reaction.

The hands pull until my back hits the altar, my head bracketed by the monster’s knees, and it’s only then I realize it has the audacity to sit, kneeling, on the altar. I’m so stunned and instantly angry I forget what vulnerable position my throat is in.

“How dare you desecrate my church, the very altar, you foul monster–” 

The grip on me tightens in an instant, claws pressing into but not breaking the skin of my neck and my hair nearly being ripped out. I can’t stop a pained whine from pouring out of me, I can’t even move my hands to try to pull away, the other two arms holding them down by my sides. 

There's a low, menacing growl behind me, and their voice is rough and dark when they speak, a dangerous edge to it.

“I strongly recommend you shut your mouth, Father. I don’t think you’re in any position to be casting stones about desecrating a church.” They finally loosen their grip on my hair just enough that my scalp isn’t screaming in pain, but I still can’t move my head. The grip on my arms shifts, they catch both of my wrists behind my back and their newly freed hand presses softly against my stomach and slowly drifts downward. I nearly sob when their hand closes around my clothed erection, palming me through the cassock. 

“What were you saying about desecration, Father? Dirty little priest, are you hard for this ‘foul monster’?” They move their hand slowly along my trapped length, the friction is maddening even though layers of fabric. I can’t speak, just taking shuddering breaths and praying this is over soon. 

“You were never this shy in your other dreams, Father. Nothing to say to me now? Do you want me to keep hurting you, you masochist?”

“No! Please, no. Stop touching me…”

“I’d probably be more convinced by that pathetic attempt at getting me to stop if your cock didn’t throb under my hand when I said that. I can read your desires like an open book, Father. Give in to me and I’ll fulfill every single naughty thing you’ve ever thought about late at night with your hand under those robes.”

It’s getting hard to think about anything other than how good their hand feels. I have to focus to keep from rutting my hips forward into their agonizingly slow rubbing. I must have taken too long to answer, because the next thing I know I’m being lifted into the air and pulled back onto their lap. My body is arranged how they want me, my legs spread wide outside of their thighs and my hands trapped between my back and their chest. 

"N- no, I can't- I won't! Let go of me!"

I can feel the laugh rumbling out of their chest, their hands holding me close to their body- oh God, they're almost twice my size. 

"Oh don't worry Father, I know you can't. You're not allowed to, are you? But that doesn't mean you don't want it." 

Their lower hands drift downward, broad palms flat against my thighs. They squeeze my thighs at the same time a hand on my chest finds my nipple and starts rubbing it through my clothes. I bite my lip to keep from making any noise, but the demon won't have that. There's a soft rumbling growl next to my ear and they start palming me through the cassock again, slow but firm. 

"I'll take care of you, better than God ever will. Just give in and submit."

It's torture, I can't stop the shudder that rips through me and the gasp from my mouth. My thighs are tight with the effort of not rolling my hips into the touch. The incense smoke is heavy in the air, the heady scent making my head spin. It's getting harder and harder to stifle my reactions, to not give this monster the satisfaction of watching me crumble at their every touch.

The other hand slips behind me, groping my ass before lifting my cassock and suddenly I can feel short soft fur against the back of my bare thighs. 

Wait- what happened to my clothes, this isn't what I was wearing- 

Their hands move over me, adjusting my positioning, and I can feel- oh God, no-

They laugh when they feel my weak struggling against their grip, all it does is grind my ass against their cock, making the both of us moan.

"I'll give you what you need, Father, what you've wanted for so long. I won't hurt you anymore than you want to be hurt." 

Their cock rests against my entrance and with a shocked groan I can feel myself open for them, suddenly dripping wet like a cunt. Then it's pressing inside me and my mouth falls open at the feeling of being stretched. The demon presses in so slowly I can feel every inch of their thick cock spearing me open. They moan in delight, a purr rumbling up from their chest when they're pressed fully inside me. I can't do anything but hang limp in their grasp, panting heavily.

I can’t move or think, consumed by the feeling of the massive cock stretching me out. Mercifully they haven't moved yet, just gently arranging me to sit comfortably in their lap and caressing my thigh and chest. I can feel their smug purring through my back, their nose nuzzling through my hair and along the back of my neck. A forked tongue laves over the back of my neck, I break out in goosebumps as they slowly move down one side of my neck, licking and kissing. I pull my head away, refusing to allow the display of affection from this… thing. I can feel it’s disapproval, it’s lip curling in a silent snarl next to my face.

“Oh Father, would you rather I not kiss you? I thought you would appreciate a little romance, but you really do just want me to treat you like a cheap whore, don’t you?” Their voice has a dangerous edge to it, are they genuinely upset by my rejection?

“We’ll just get on with it then,” they purr into my ear as their hands move my body where they want it. 

A hand on my lower back and another on my throat push and pull in tandem to force me to bend in an arch, the movement rocking my hips over the cock inside me and sending sparks up my spine. The demon uses its new leverage to pull almost all the way out, and it pushes back in just as slow as the first time, letting me feel how much my body has to stretch around. I can’t let it hear me, I refuse to humiliate myself further, so I press my lips together to keep my mouth shut. Each slow thrust makes me shake and my breath comes heavy through my nose, but I can’t make any noise-

The demon pulls me back onto its cock with a hand on my hip and the change in angle makes the next thrust drag across something inside me that makes me see stars. I forget entirely where I am and what I’m doing, my mouth flies open with a shameless moan. Instantly my face is on fire, but I don’t have time to think about my shame because the demon’s thrusts speed up and start targeting that exact spot. Each one lights me up, driving all other thoughts out. I’m distantly aware of the pitiful little noises I keep making, but I can’t do anything other than hang on for the ride. It’s nothing like I’ve ever felt before, being stretched out and fucked mercilessly and each thrust hitting something incredible inside me… it’s almost too much to handle.

“There we go, that’s what you needed, isn’t it, Father?” The monster’s head rests on my shoulder, speaking into my ear. I can’t answer anymore, I feel like I'm coming apart at the seams, the intense sensation and incense smoke have me so dizzy. Is the room really spinning? It shouldn’t be, I know it can’t actually be. There shouldn’t be this much smoke in the air, mass ended ages ago… The whole sanctuary looks unfamiliar, the altar and nave warped together into one massive alcove with velvet curtains and gilded candelabras and enormous stained glass windows that bathe the both of us in blood-red light. The architecture in the room pulses like a heartbeat- in time with my heartbeat, like the ornate vaulted ceiling and pillars and carvings can’t decide what they're supposed to look like. Or maybe it’s me, my vision swimming as I lose focus on reality itself.

Looking up isn’t any better, the monster behind me seems to have changed too. Shadowed shapes flutter above us, I almost think they’re wings until it clicks into place- hands. Dozens and dozens of shadowy arms pour out of their back in the shape of wings. A tarnished, cracked ring hovers above the back of their head, spikes emanating from it at regular intervals as it spins lazily. I can’t look at any of it for too long, my eyes refuse to focus and slide off like water off a duck, leaving motion-trail after-images in my mind. 

I close my eyes to avoid the worst of it, whining and laying my head back on the soft fur behind me. One of my hands finds a horn above me and I hang on just to have something to anchor myself to.

My hips move on their own now, meeting each thrust from the demon. A coil tightens in my stomach, something building to a knife’s edge inside me. It doesn’t even occur to me to stop, solely focused on chasing that pleasure. Then that rumbling laugh comes again in my ear, and I remember where I am all at once with a keening whine. I still can’t stop myself from rocking backwards onto the thick cock, but now there’s a white-hot streak of shame burning in me, and I’m horrified to realize that it makes the arousal and lust burn hotter, too.

“You’re so close, aren’t you, Father? Ready to cum for me?” The demon taunts. Their voice sharpens suddenly, their hand tightening around my throat, “Don’t you fucking dare. Not until you admit how much you love this, how good it makes you feel. Give in and say ‘yes’ to me, Father.”

I'm too breathless to speak, just a keening whine escaping me.

"No, please… I can't…"

I can't think, I can hardly breathe, too dizzy and overwhelmed to focus on fighting back or arguing. And the demon knows it, their voice a seductive purr in my ear.

"Don't be so difficult. You want this, Father."

"N-no, no…"

A hand creeps around to palm my cock through the cassock, I jerk in their grasp and sob at the pleasure of it.

"There, is that better? Say yes, sweetheart."

I can't- I can't move my mouth around the words anymore, oh God-

"Father…"

Please, I can't- I won't- I shouldn't…

"Father?"

Another pitiful whine, I can feel my resolve slipping.

"Father, are you alright?"

Oh God… y-

"Father!"

There's a hand on my shoulder, shaking me awake. My heart lurches in my chest, I jerk awake so suddenly I nearly jump off the floor.

I'm laying on the step in front of the altar, heart hammering and a concerned altar server hovering over me. Sunrise weakly peeks through the windows. The nave is as it was, no warped architecture or demonic influence.

"Father? Are you okay?"

"...No, I'm sorry, I… must have fallen asleep here last night. I haven't been sleeping well."

Every movement aches, my entire body is stiff and sore, and no wonder if I spent all night on the steps. I pull myself upright, wincing in horror at the warm, wet feeling across the front of my pants, thankful they're dark enough to hide the stain.

The altar server just stares at me, I can’t bear to meet their eyes and see the pity there.

They insist on canceling Mass to 'let me rest,' concerned I may be sick. I'm going to let them believe that, too exhausted and ashamed to argue. I find myself back in the rectory in a daze, re-dressed in casual clothes and dreading the heaviness I can feel pulling at my eyelids. 

I put myself to bed in a haze, rosary wrapped around my wrist and clutching my bible to my chest like a shield. I intended to read it, but I no longer have the energy for it, already drifting off despite my best efforts not to. 

I pray I can rest, I pray the Lord will shelter me, that I may sleep in His peace. 

Amen…

[shionshot]

Roddacember2023 Day10∶Epic

What makes ‘‘His name was Walter’’ unusual among Emily Rodda's stories is that it is very realistic.

Not only is this story set in reality, but it is also very serious and harsh.

Fantasy heroes triumph and are recognised for their achievements and return triumphantly to their homeland.Their adventures are told epically among the people in their world.And I, too, like and want such glamorous tales of success in fictional worlds.

But the reality is that some people not only never achieve any success, but also lose all their battles, experience few spectacular periods in their lives and die without anyone taking a particularly strong interest in them.

In worse cases, some people are not understood and despised by others throughout their lives and continue to be despised even after death.

Even if this is not the case, few people win all battles and continue to be successful, always outperforming others.If you can live a long and peaceful life, even if it is mediocre, you can say that you are successful.

Walter's good character meant that he was not plagued by relationship problems during his lifetime, but after his death it was terrible.

There is a cruel side to the world, and more often than not, a person's humanity is not itself evaluated, but in fact, their humanity is judged by their position and title.

Now that I can never call myself a child, I still think that reality is like that.It is not that I am being pessimistic, it is just a fact that such situations are common, including mine.

In that respect, this story is very realistic.

Whenever I've read Emily Rodda's books, I've always thought she was a writer whose fantasies were so off-the-chart that they could never be copied by anyone else.But when I read ‘‘His name was Walter’’, I felt again that she is far from a dreamer.

Not only does she depict the darkness and evil of the human heart, but she is also well aware of the harshness of life and human heartlessness that is so common in the world, although not so terrible evil.

Indeed, the fantasy creatures and fascinating magical items that she has created have a strong power of imagination that is wonderfully unique to her.

However, when it comes to many other aspects of the characters, story line and world setting, the main feature is rather the attitude of looking straight at severe and harsh events, which can be seen in works such as ‘‘His Name was Walter’’.

Reality is more complex than the stories, but the fantasy in the stories is never an utopia.

People who, through no fault of their own, have had their families and homelands inexcusably destroyed, or who have been cheated or betrayed, exist even in fictional fantasy worlds.

Thus, the opposites of the fantastical fantasy world and the severe, realistic one make it seem as if things that do not originally exist are possible.

But I think most of us in real life are not able to fend off all enemies like fantasy heroes.You and I, who are not fantasy heroes, do not have a universal belt or a sachet full of magic tools.

So what if I, what if you, like Walter, are in a position where you have nothing and cannot defeat evil?

What if you are betrayed and destroyed and there is nothing you can do about it?

Then you have to accept such a reality.Like Walter.

It is not about giving up, but about the soul being free, like a sparrow that leaves its prison and flies free.Because instead of stopping to lament the deeds of others who don't do what you want or a fate you can't change, you have to accept the life you have been given and do what you can do for yourself.

It is up to us to decide whether we consider our lives to be a story of heroes or a boring side story.As long as we stand by our convictions, what a person is born with will not be lacking or undermined by other people's evaluations.

[faithfromanewperspective]

you know who we need to hold israel (defence forces and govt) accountable to do better for? the people. israel. who are more than a genocidal, lying government. yes the apartheid state has been around less than a century. but jews have been around for millennia. descendants of abraham, isaac and jacob have been around for millennia. legend has it the name of israel and 'israelites' as a synonym for 'hebrews' and 'jews' ever since this guy called jacob fought God like 4, 5 thousand years ago. imagine what our ancestors would think. these fathers (and mothers, do i need to talk about sarah and rebekah and rachel and leah?) of israelis and (many) palestinians and other europeans like myself with vaguely jewish descent. don't they deserve to have their name taken back from being something that's used as a force of evil? what about citizens convinced that yes, this is bad, they just want the 'war' to be over but think 'free palestine' means their own death and displacement because that's what they've been told? because after 70 years that's the only thing they can imagine is being called for, because it's what their government, if they were palestine, would do? don't they deserve to have a vision of peace that's beyond their wildest imaginings?

such a power-hungry murder-hungry leadership is never elected through the choice of empowered people. humans are better than that. the only way to have something like this kind of pass is to invoke so much fear and so much misinformation that people think it's the best of bad options. that it somehow represents their interest. a whole nation doesn't want this. no nation of people is bad. only the (numerical) minority who are in power are. most people are just scared. and when you're scared, you tend to be misinformed. easy victims of misinformation. it's hard to be the bigger person and to stand up against something wrong when all you're fed is fear. and yet. someone has to. can't we help out with that?

you know, there's some people in Australia who think if our Indigenous people get their way, all people of European and Asian and African and American and wherever else descent will be kicked out or subjugated somehow. treated the way colonisers treated them for centuries. i've met Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander activists who tirelessly spend their time saying this isn't true, they only want peace and reconciliation. they only want to be equal and recognised as such. they shouldn't have to say this. it should be obvious. why do (usually white) people believe this? because it's what colonisers would do. get revenge. it's what the West, largely, would do. somehow deep down even if we don't admit it we know we've been in the wrong. we know justice means to some extent suffering for what our ancestors did. we want that suffering to be minimal. it looks bad from an ethics standpoint. terrible, even. but we as humans are wired neurobiologically to defend our own safety. it's what keeps us safe and allows us to persist as a species.

so the number one way to convince someone to override someone else's right to that is to make them believe that someone else's right to exist somehow conflicts with theirs. this is never true. it's just a question of logistics. but if your government is set on killing people, it's going to do all it can to make sure you don't revolt and stop it. it's going to minimise its crimes over the years. do you know how easy it is to normalise the mistreatment of another people group until it's hard to notice up close? think of how we've discussed systemic racism. think of, if you're a white person, how in 2020 when we were all at home and you had nothing to do but be on the internet, you realised how you've benefitted from it, without ever wanting for anyone to get hurt or have it harder than you did. just by simply existing in a system designed to favour you, preferably without you ever noticing and therefore going and dismantling it.

yes this genocide is bloody and violent. yes it shocks those who were already horrified at one, two, three, or even a hundred Black murders by those meant to protect us. human life is precious. black lives matter. indigenous lives matter. palestinian lives matter. we know that deep within ourselves, we know that we're one humanity. fear and division don't help anyone. but peace can't be false, no one can be one with their oppressor. palestine needs to be free. don't you remember the story of joseph, favoured by his father, oppressed by his brothers, separated from them for decades and when they reunited, wanting only to be equal to them even after saving their lives and holding a powerful political position? hierarchies get us nowhere. all they do is disempower. feminism is meant to help men, too. it always has been. men, who have a right to be raised as more than oppressors. israelis, who have a right to a proper informed decision not to be complicit in a genocide too. who have a right to a vision of harmony. in Australia we celebrate harmony day on the 21st of march. it's coming up in a few weeks. many different cultures living together. and yet. it's true no colonisers are innocent. it's true many of us aussies are living off the benefits of our ancestors who were that. we're not quite innocent either. but if we left, where would we go? many of us don't have a homeland anymore, or we have so many that we can never truly belong in any of them. and i know it's not the same. our genocide isn't happening now, at least not at the same rate, despite the disparity in health outcomes and incarceration and the occasional murder. most of us aren't doing the murdering and actually want to do better. i don't know what it's like to be living as an israeli in 2024.

but i do look to the west and i see the conditional help they gave to construct israel after the war. to build something that in the wake of another genocide, is told that their empowerment depends on the same power structures that hurt them to begin with and with no power of their own, the west would give it to them in exchange for the power to build them into a military monster and it's easy to forget how to be kind. it doesn't mean you're innocent. but when you have millions of people being funneled down this path--I think we've seen this before. we know that not all germans believed hitler's beliefs or supported him, and those who did, it was largely out of fear for their own lives and holding misinformation about what he was actually getting up to. because germans are not bad people. misguided means that with guidance to do better, they will do better. this is the same for israelis. for jews, because many identify with both. jews aren't bad people! yet some of us were raised to believe so. some of us don't realise how normalised that belief was but when christianity has gotten to run the path it has for the last century or more, had people within it be misguided by the same ideas that tell them to disagree with someone is for them to be a threat to your life, those with more power are going to be the voices we hear and it's going to be polarising. we're going to pick up some harmful beliefs and it's up to us in our relative safety all over the world to be the ones to unpack them.

isn't it easy to, if you believe jews to be monsters, when you offer them 'help' with something, to only imagine the help they want is help to be what you believe they are? isn't it easy to raise to power the few who actually do live out this stereotype? until all the good people, the majority of them, with all their traditions and customs that deserve to be respected and celebrated and allowed to exist and do good, are so suppressed we wonder if they're even there anymore? isn't this a self fulfilling prophecy? this is how you villainise someone. and if you're usamerica right now (again, i'm not referring to you, the people. i know that most of you don't want this) and to a lesser extent other western countries, some greedy self-interest to provide someone you already believe to be no better than this with the means to behave in ways you would never be caught doing (but it's just far away enough that people might not draw the link, and it retains your fragile sense of power) crops up and all of a sudden this is the status quo. all of a sudden this is how the momentum is going, and to stop what you're doing will cause chaos but nothing is as bad as continuing. but you're not ready for the chaos. because you're going to lose the power you have which was never yours to hold to begin with.

free palestine, free the world, meet the needs of the people. create a world where israelis and usamericans and westerners in general aren't automatically complicit in genocide unless we stand against it. create a world where israelis are free to be good because we're not backing them into a corner of propaganda believing this is who they are and they are no better than that, so they better allow their government to do this in order that they survive. believe that jews can be good. it's about time. believe that usamericans can be good too but that we need to unpack the power dynamics of the world and work at unraveling the threads of colonialism and healing the hurt to the nations. many of us have generational trauma due to it and will continue to do so. make the economic argument if you have to, for we know the price of mental health care now in 2024 and we know how to sustain the capacity of our healthcare systems, not max them out. we need a lot of trauma informed care. and that means that we can learn to process what we've been through and not turn around and let out that repressed hurt to hurt someone else, someone we believe will hurt us and maybe isn't quite human. chances are they're just as human as anyone. sometimes trauma gives you paranoia, even if it's your ancestors' and not yours. the holocaust is still a living memory for many today. through years when mental health care was stigmatised, its need never went away. hurt simply festered. we've got the resources to do better now and the very first step is a ceasefire. followed by a vision. of harmony where no one's rights are taken away, where everyone has the right to a feeling of autonomy but theirs doesn't take that right away from anyone else. it is possible but we're going to have to think differently. we're going to have to see people as people rather than perpetrators of sins that often aren't theirs specifically but belong to those associated with them willingly or unwillingly. we're going to have to realise that being capable of doing better isn't the same as being completely innocent, and in that raising the moral bar higher than we can handle simply removes the hope that we desperately need: that misguided and scared people who don't stand up to Every Wrong Thing can do better. that they need investment, not villainisation, especially if they've been victims of oppression themselves in the past--we can't sweep this under the rug. we ourselves are them. and we have to believe we can do better too.

[katyspersonal]

Wait why do you mean Asthon (your vicar oc) is cut content?! Bro is real? Like really real?! Wait you got me curious. (or is it just about the fact that we don't know in detail the other vicars? I personally headcanon the woman praying in the grand cathedral of the nightmare as (one) the Vicar between Laurence and Amelia)

Argh, well, it is complicated! Yes, he is very OC-ish, but the thing is, this name WAS featured in cut content:

( x )

Basically, at some point, the names were switched, and Willem was called Laurence, the scholar that detracted from him was called Ashton, when actual Willem was also 'husk of Micolash', when there was also another face featured, called Herbert (Norbert in English)! Like, I think you know most of the cut content by now, but yeah, some names are obscure.

(It is also this same site in which I've learned that Norbert's name was also mistranslated! ヘルベルト is 'Heruberuto', and Lance McDolands also noticed that before in this ( x ) Tweet!)

You might recognise the first dialogue, too! Micolash has some voice files for cut dialogue ( x ), it was a little mistranslated, hence I am using this Japanese site, but the gist is still here!

So, yeah... Ashton and Herbert are the only names mentioned across the cut content that appear to be same/close in status to what Laurence and Emilia are! That's why I just took what I could, and in my thing there were four Healing Church heads in total; Laurence, Ashton, Herbert and Emilia, in this order! And each would bring something different during their era. In fact, I did want to make a line-up explaining who did what - whereas Laurence is self-explanatory, it is worth to mention how Healing Church was living after Laurence became a beast. But like, I first want to finalize the DRIP designs for them all, and I can't even get past Laurence's one already, because I am always distracted/working/sick/dead/etc fdsjhfh

Like, yeah, basically they're 'OCs with a prompt', since I had to design and write literally everything about them, but I still consider them to be revived cut content, because I hate giving myself any credit. xd

Fun fact! Ashton can also be a female name! I really wish I learned of it before I already wrote him as a male character, because we do need more nasty, evil women. But I tend to be a little rigid when I've already written a character in a certain way. Not gonna lie though, I often consider retconing him as a female character, because explain me how, HOW you can have """too many""" female villains? For now though he just really loves feminine things. Same as Damian. Or Micolash. Or Valtr. Or Ludwig. ...damn, I like slapping feminine aesthetic like FLEX APE too much, even where it doesn't quite fit. MOTHER OF MERGO, I AM-

(It's just an inside joke. It's funny because Gehrman would've dressed every hunter into a pretty dress if he could. xd)

But yeah, basically, I took what I could from the cut content, and tried to base my ideas on what it gave us. So, if Ashton used to be someone under Laurence - then that should be the dynamic in my thing too! So, underling of him in Healing Church, and the next vicar. Herbert was also mentioned to have been a previous leader of the Church, so that was saved too!

Fun fact - because Emilia used to be named Laura in cut content, I also have a secret 5th Vicar that went unused, with Laura being Herbert's daughter that didn't get to live to be the next Vicar. Well, TECHNICALLY, she is still alive! Remember that big Celestial Emissary in orphanage, who acts like the 'leader', and also, interesingly, drops Communion rune? I headcanon that the emissaries in that Orphanage are children that were taught to Think With Cosmos by the Choir, and Laura used to be their overseer while Herbert was at the position and she had not too much to do. But more or less, she refused to abandon the children when Croir's base crumbled the hell out, and sort of ascended with them. In either case, this is not quite Laura anymore.. But, after Orphanage got nuked, Herbert was the one to take in orphans that he could take and raise them within the walls of the Healing Church! Like I mentioned, Adella was one of kids (well, teens) he basically adopted. But she had the biggest adopted daughter energy to him, hence she became a successor.

Ashton, though? Honestly, he started and is still going as my "punching bag" djfdshfd I did not want to use Laurence as obligatory 'evil cleric' at the time, since he had too much tragedy potential, and too much complexity. But yes, Ashton is more or less the combination of some traits I just looooooove. -_- Self-projecting, bullying people for what he himself has, provoking someone to feel a certain way and then blaming their reaction as them being "insane" or "irrational", fuckin'... flirting with someone and when they start returning the h0rny, blaming them for "daring" to think that he, such a HOOOOOOLY man, would EVER feel this way, and force them to apologize etc etc dshdh + Every time I reblog that video where a woman pushes a priest off the platform, I caption it as 'this is Rom when Ashton was being homophobic' and it is still canon, so that too.

Like... I can write a list that will actually make your phone lag upon scrolling so much, but you already get the idea of what type of a person he is. However yeah, jokes or not, but he managed to gain enough of reputation of a 'saint', by both appearing rather oppressive in demeanor and by secretly normalizing cannibalism (he'd sometimes feed people concerned with falling into beasthood meat or blood of enemies of the Healing Church, that they'd not know about, but they'd feel "easier' after that (of course...), and would be easily gaslit by Ashton into thinking that he had something personally to do with it, to offer remedy :') Like... It was kind of a big deal while it lasted. That you didn't have to be burnt/shot/trapped into one of those coffins if you start feeling beasthood but you could like, idk, talk with Ashton and feel better? I love to think that his beast form would reflect that, where his back would resemble a Kin way more than a beast, and you'd only see his hideous true form when he turns around! So yeah, like 'wolf in a sheep clothing' sorta!!)

______________

But yeah, these are the ideas! I really love the guy, but at the same time a lot about him comes from a couple of years ago, when my knowledge on Bloodborne lore was a bit limited, so for now I question whether Ashton "stole" too much from the thing LAURENCE should've been doing during his corruption arc. So yes, just take it as me tossing ideas around. Thank you for the ask, I really needed to revisit this stuff!

[vialae]

Past DU ask: 55, 63 and 80 about Kaidos?

55. Did the gazette ever print an article about them (or their deeds), what's the headline and what did they feel about it?

Most likely when he was younger and much less skilled, in that limbo between killing his adoptive family and being taken into the Temple of Bhaal, something was probably printed. I think I briefly mentioned it in that fic I did from Sceleritas' POV (Know That I Love You Most) that there were rumours around the Lower City of 'a creature with eyes that burned as hot as Avernus' killing animals and people.

From that little bit, I feel that Baldur's Mouth Gazette would probably do one of those articles of 'who is this ghost lurking in the shadows??? how much do we know about this monster???' just for it to end in them not knowing really anything at all about him.

Within the moment, Kai was probably freaking out about too many other things to even read a newspaper and ultimately would have been unaware he was turning into an urban legend. However, Sceleritas Fel easily could have little cutouts of the articles and then show them to Kai later on in a 'look how you started out so young!! oh im so proud of you!! type thing. And then at that point, he likely would just be frustrated he was ever so sloppy to let something like these articles even have a chance to come about.

63. The sweet sweet smell of gore, we've all heard about it. But is it really sweet to them? Or does it just smell like metal and rot?

I'm sure Bhaal would have put something in a Bhaalspawn to hardwire them to like the smell of blood.

Kaidos wouldn't be any different, with or without the insanely sensitive sense of smell I gave him lol. I feel like he would like it, but then he is covered in it so much he becomes immune to the smell and forgets what it's actually like.

I also take from that one bit in the colony under Moonrise where if you take Astarion to Durge's smashed up pod, he can recognise the smell of the blood being your own specific 'bouquet'. I feel like Kai could do that too, and he would especially like the smell of, say, well fed nobility (and gortash). They eat rich meats, and bread without fillers added to them, and so they probably smell like an absolute treat to Kai when split open.

80. What went through your head when you crafted these little Durge doll, dear creator? Are they a self inserted of sorts or as far removed from you as possible?

When I first decided to make a Durge, I already knew the spoiler about them being Bhaalspawn. So I went into it with mainly just the image of a guy who could do all those horrible things, but just with the brute force of his bare fists. So not only did I want a monk, but I also wanted a guy that just really looked the part of being evil and strong. I went with a tiefling not only because obviously they are very cool but also the vanilla face that I use for Kai?? SO gorgeous and handsome. Every time I see another person using that same head I feel like that wojak of the guy pointing.

But Kaidos is nothing at all like me (thankfully lol). But me making big strong scary tiefling came first, then all the extra personality parts of him beyond canonical durge traits came second after I properly got to learn the origin story.

I guess it's just very lucky that I really loved my first durge this much (and I genuinely can't see myself ever making another at this point) and accidentally got colour schemes that fit the theming of the Bhaalist cutscenes.

[fairyswg]

bunny <3

I love you very very much. I really hope you read this sometime. All the way through. I think you were wrong about me.

I wrote you an essay, this isn't it. I was going to hide it somewhere in a place only you could find. And then I was going to retire this account so it'd stay only for you. I thought you deserved a really romantic gesture, you still do, but not that one and probably not from me.

I still think I'll probably retire this account.

I want start by saying I'm really sorry for upsetting you over last weekend. Before that Friday I'd spent the past week closing myself off as I watched you get further and further away from me and once you came back it came rushing out and then it closed up again. I wanted to wait until I was open again, because that's what you deserve. I think I probably ended up making you feel the way I did that passed week. Opening yourself up for someone only for them to parade around talking to other people and still ignoring you. I hope you know I never ignored you. The same way I know you weren't ignoring me.

When you came back on Monday you were upset and I understand why. I really am sorry. You must've felt like I'd just left you out to dry after you'd tried to open back up for me and the mess I made outside of that couldn't have helped in the least.

But when you did come back I was still glued shut, and I'd been trying really hard to be me again. For the first time ever it became really hard to open up. You were rightfully upset but what you said in your anger was horrifying for me. I don't think you know the power you have over me, the total control you have over me.

You know I'm not full of myself, or self-centred. You know that I don't act a certain way or lie. You know that I've never tried to guilt trip you. But I can't know that. Not for certain. Not always. So when you said those things, just like in December, I couldn't help but believe you. I rarely ever stand up for myself, not with someone I love as much as you. You know - most of all - that I always do listen to you. I think that was the biggest problem. I trust your word so much that I take everything you say as the truth. Obviously I don't blame you at all, you were upset and I should've recognised that, it was me that put so much weight on the words you said.

I think I've only ever lost myself twice in my life. The first time in December, when I hurt you and you told me just how awful I'd been, I started to genuinely believe I was evil. I started questioning the intentions I had behind every nice thing I did, even the things I did unconsciously. It took me weeks to forgive myself for it. I still know what I did was horrible, I’m still so sorry. I swore I'd never let it happen again, but when I hurt you again last week and you called me all those things, the same thing happened. I went crazy, I'm really sorry for how I acted, I was completely hysterical.

I wrote you an essay on Tuesday, when I still believed I was some sort of gross sociopathic weirdo, but it didn't feel right posting it. It was only yesterday, Wednesday, in the afternoon that I finally talked to a friend about it and hearing myself cry, hearing myself talk about you, how much I love you, was enough to remind me how innocent my love for you really is. The love I have for you is the purest thing I’ve ever cultivated. All those times you hurt me and I forgave you. All those times you left and you came back. I was never confident at all that you'd come back, I'm not cocky or proud in that way. I mourned you every time you left. Even the very first time, when you were only gone for a morning. That was the first time I cried over someone leaving me.

And every time I let you back in it was because I really thought I could make you happy. I hope you know already that I really really tried to make you happy. The most beautiful thing you showed me was always your smile, the most beautiful things you said to me were always,

'You've changed me for the better',

'You're the best thing that's ever happened to me',

'You make it easier to breathe',

'You make me feel alive.'

I gave you everything, over and over again. I love you but when you called me what you did you made me question my intentions, to the point I believed I was insane. Those things you labelled me with, I almost let manifest in myself, because that's how sacred your word is to me. You say I don't listen but it's the exact opposite. You have always been everything to me. Over and over again you carved your name into my bones and now I’ll always feel you when I pick at my scars.

I don't think I'll ever post that essay now, parts of it are lovely and I wish I could show you those parts, but there are parts I despise. The little flicks of self-loathing and pity, it reads like a letter from a bad dog who'd disobeyed its owner. I love you more than anything, but you can't convince me I was a bad dog. I can say with the utmost certainty now that everything I did - I did because I wanted to make you happy, even the mistakes I made. Even the times I disobeyed you, I only wanted to impress you or make you proud of me in some way but all those times when you disapproved it felt like you’d slapped me in the face, and not in a good way 0_o .

I really hope this doesn’t hurt you at all. I let myself go and I’m the only one to blame. I promised you I wouldn’t let you ruin me, and you haven’t. I’m sure we’ll both be okay. I know I don’t really want to love anyone else for a long while. I know I’ll never love anyone the way I loved you. You’re still the best thing that’s ever happened to me. You’re still so perfect. I really wish we could’ve been better for each other.

The things I said about you in that essay are things you deserve to hear thousands of times, you deserve everything, but I think it should come from another boy now (or girl ^-^). You really are everything. I keep editing this because I want to say more nice things, I know I should leave it to someone else now but you really mean so much to me. You’re the kindest, warmest most loving person I’ve ever met. I remember everything we used to talk about, I always will now. You told me you wanted to be a teacher, I think you’ll be the best teacher there is.

You're already looking for another boy to love, I can't help but feel a little betrayed by that. But I love you more than anything. These past 5 months would've been the worst of my life without you, but you made me the happiest I've ever been. I'll always love you so much. I think I'll miss you long after you forget my name, but I don't mind. I still hope I'll be a fairy in your mind somewhere, the same way you'll always be hopping through mine.

I love you forever bunny <3