#and very existential

[melting-morning-blues]

i'm only like 1/4 through kenji miyazawa's "night on the galactic railroad" but i can already tell why subaru likes it and recommended it to mel [x]

[uhoh23]

When you love Sylus, yet realize you and him might not be 100% compatible with one another -

I'm talking about when the insecurity rolls in. Your very attached to Sylus, yet as you think more and more, you feel isolated. You love him, yet you realize you aren't MC. After all, MC is her own character and the way she acts with each guy is different. You can only see yourself so much in her unfortunately.

MC is very bold. She likes challenging Sylus. Me? I'm the type of gal who'd willing throw the reins to Sylus at every opportunity, loving his leadership and the safety it provides. I'm no pushover by a long shot, but I don't think I'd be able to challenge Sylus like MC does. I'd give in too often, I'd be too easy to please.

And Sylus would probably get bored of me.

Would Sylus do well with a more shy partner? Sure, I'm confident usually, but during sex? Would he love my submissive behavior or wish I was more bratty to put me in my place? Would he get tired of doing most of the work and wish for me to be more entertaining in bed? What if he possibly has kinks I don't really have?

Sylus loves the chase. Would he chase me? Or view me as a temporary distraction from his dangerous life? What if I give in to his "conquest" too early and cut the chase short, resulting in him being disappointed that his "prey" didn't run longer?

Sylus isn't real, yet the idea of him not being able to love me hurts. He's not real, yet I get sad thinking of him choosing MC over me...bc I'm NOT her. I'll NEVER be her. I can't force myself to be something I'm not, yet I wish I could. I can't help but think there's also other people who play the game who'd be a better match for him.

I wish I was his perfect match.

But I know I probably never will be.

And man does that hurt.

[veryintricaterituals]

Something about Good Omens from a Jewish perspective, something about Crowley, about questions, something about how we are not in heaven, about how we get to decide the rules here on Earth, something about discussion, about wrestling with G-d, and something about how G-d is outnumbered and doesn't get a say, something about how "heaven" and "hell" don't really matter, about trying to make things better from the context of our lives, something about leaving the world a better place than you found it, something about drinking and enjoying life right here and now, something about "they tried to kill us and failed, let's eat".

[izzystizzys]

it’s canon to me that anakin skywalker and marshall commander fox are archnemeses of a shakespearean nature to eachother

why? well, fox’ life is a tragedy of galactic proportions. he’s a slave at best and straight up non-sentient property at worst, caught at the crossroads of being the face of the republic’s most corrupt establishment to his brothers who resent him for being forced to bear an authority he has no actual control over, and being the closest and easiest target for that very authority’s ire. made to enforce the rigged and deeply unjust laws against his own oppressed peoples, and no one understands better than fox how much coruscant truly despises them. the chancellor at the heart of it all, and anakin, the favored pupil - taken in by the flattery and empty promises like all the rest of them, the jedi most intimately connected to the senate who yet cares so little to know the clones who shed their blood in it every day that he never sees beyond his own very nose. no one asks the guard what they think, and fox despises them all for it, but the jedi who play at caring more than anything. it’s an impersonal, distanced dislike for the most part, but with skywalker it burns all the brighter for how often fox sees him walk the halls of the senate and never think to ask.

also fox cut anakin off in traffic once and he never forgave him for it

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

"See you tomorrow"

MDZS Disco Elysium AU part 4 [prev parts]

[edwinisms]

you ever think about how edwin got like. no warning, no time time to process, nothing, when he reappeared on earth faced with the fact that virtually everyone he knew in life is dead. his parents? probably died in the 1950s or so (at best) almost forty years prior to edwin’s return. if any of his classmates were still around, they’d have been elderly, possibly senile, and in a few years they’d all be gone– except, of course, edwin. nothing looks the same, cars look like spaceships, there actually are spaceships, he can no longer see the stars, and everyone he knew is dead.

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

a good animated show must have at least 4 of the following:

- gay

- existentialism/nihilism

- morally grey lead characters

- horrendously depressing themes/messages

- psychedelic weird shit that highlights the absurdity of life

i don’t make the rules (i do make the rules pls recommend me shows—i’ll put the ones i’ve watched in the tags, feel free to add any you think of)

[beskarfrog]

he has too much of his father in him that's what i'm afraid of

[labratboygirl]

everyone read 17776/wfbwllitf NOW . this is an order

[jemmo]

Making sense of love for love's sake: the game

Despite all the things i absolutely adore about how the plot unravels and expands in love by love's sake, upon first watch, there's some things i couldn't piece together, which @lurkingshan echoes in their post:

'The way the author was messing with Myungha and forcing cruel choices on him really does not track with a desire to help him find happiness.'

And to preface, this is not something i fully get yet either. I think i'll need a good month and a sizeable reading list of relevant resources to understand just what/who this author/sunbae is and what his role is and how he is associated with myungha. But as always with the best shows for meta (aka bad buddy), as a plot unfolds, you can always find a better understanding by looking backwards and re-contextualising what you've already seen. so i watched ep 1, specifically the scene between myungha and his sunbae at the bar. And i will talk about how everything said in this scene has a whole new meaning now we know the full story, but for now i wanna focus on that question that they keep coming back to; "Then... will you change it for him?".

When you watch the show for the first time, your brain follows the simplest, most obvious version of the story you're being told, one where myungha has been pulled into the world of his sunbae's novel that's being turned into a game and given the opportunity to fix the thing he didn't like about it; making yeowoon happy, and thus you just think the rules of the game are imposed by the author, and so when these cruel choices first come up, you see them as the difficult roadblocks that are nevertheless necessary to any kind of game, forcing the player to make an impossible choice so that the game can continue in a certain direction and its only after that you learn whether it was the right choice or not, or there is no right choice, it simply changes the game you are playing.

And when its revealed what this game actually is, at first i tried to interpret these cruel choices, namely the choice between yeonwoon and myungha's grandma, and at best i could come up with the concept of this being a choice between staying stuck to the past aka choosing his grandma, even though he knows that choice doesn't mean she's safe bc he knows the future where he loses here, its an inevitability, but thats the small happiness he knew before it was taken away and thus that happiness is known and safe, theres no risk, versus choosing to pursue a new happiness, a love of yeowoon and thus himself, which he doesn't know, he hasn't experienced yet, and could be risky. Its a happiness that isn't guaranteed like his grandma, but its a happiness that looks to the future and has hope in it that he can find a new happiness to pursue despite what has happened in his past.

And that fits nice, okayish. But then i watched ep 1 and heard that question "Then... will you change it for him?" And watching through the rest of the eps, we come back to this scene at the bar and each time we get a new run up to the author asking this question, either new dialogue is added or we hear a different piece of the conversation entirely. It starts at the beginning of ep 1 as:

"Because Cha Yeowoon is the only one who's miserable." "It can't be helped that some people's lives are like that" "The fact that some people are destined to live that kind of life is what's vile."

Then a bit later in ep 1 we go back and its expanded.

"It can't be helped that some people's lives are like that" "The fact that some people are destined to live that kind of life is what's vile." "Why? Do you think you'd write it differently?" "Yes, definately. Someone like Cha Yeowoon, or someone like me with an awful life, can also be happy."

And then all the way on in ep 6, we get this new dialogue.

"I don't like talking about destiny." "Why?" "Because it means everything is predestined." "Then do you not believe in fate?" "Fate and destiny are the same. My grandma likes to say that. She said life is like a written book, and how you'll live and die are written in it. (...)I don't like things like this. Even if fate is already destined, I think it can still be changed. Otherwise, there's no point in trying." "Really? Then Myungha..."

And while we don't hear the author ask the same question, I feel like him getting cut off like that insinuates that the conversation leads to that same ending point. All that is to say, every time we hear this question being asked, its like we learn more and more about what this whole thing is, what the game is, what myungha is saying he will do by agreeing to do what the author asks. And every time, we see myungha being more defiant against the idea of yeowoon being resigned to his miserable ending. He starts off thinking that kind of life is destined, and while it's miserable, its not something he can fight. Then he says he'd want to write the story differently, bc yeowoon, or even him, could be happy. He challenges the idea that yeowoon, and thus himself, is fated to be miserable, and opens up the possibility for happiness for them both, but doesn't yet have the means or resolve to do it, its like he knows its possible on a fundamental level, but doesn't see it as something he can actually achieve. But then we circle back to the idea of destiny and books, both of which came up in the previous quote, and seems incredibly pertinent seen as this whole thing is about a novel this author has written. Myungha talks about how he hates the idea that life is a book where everything written is predestined to happen, from the moment you live to the moment you die. He says "Even if fate is already destined, I think it can still be changed. Otherwise, there's no point in trying." That vile way of life he described before that he said was destined, he is now saying it can be changed, and that possibility is now something he's holding onto, its what he sees hope in so that he can keep trying, bc now he finally is trying, he has the resolve, he's trying to realise this thing, this impossibility of rewriting the life he thought was destined through the way he loves yeowoon.

And coming back to those cruel choices, given this fresh context, it made me think. bc this isn't actually a game that myungha has been put into where the rules are dictated by an author completely separate from him. He said himself, he'd rewrite it, he'd change things for yeowoon. And when you start to think of it less as him fighting against a rigid, removed system and more like him being a character in a story he is trying to rewrite himself, that has both the author and his own limitations, or just his own if you're in the school of thought that the author is some figment or part of myungha himself or his conciousness, then you can start to see where these cruel choices might come from. They could be myungha, the author making edits to this new story, imposing his own doubts and limitations on himself. When he says he has to pick between Yeowoon and his grandma, what if that's the new author myungha seeing this story unfold and thinking no this isn't right, he can't have it all, i'm not deserving of this much happiness.

And what makes me like this idea even more is that when we get that second choice between ending after 14 days or getting 100 days back at the cost of resetting Yeowoon's affection to 0, that whole conversation happens in what I think the bar actually is which is this frozen moment in time where myungha is in the water with this extension of a voice in his head that is talking through these things. That conversation in itself needs its own post, but when you look at it both as a decision to break up or not or a decision to hold onto life or not, you can see how the author is just this soundboard relaying the decisions myungha is going through in his head. The author's voice is his own, weighing up his decisions. And if he is the author here, it only reinforces that the person making the rules of this game is him. You can even extend it further to the idea of the debuffs, where he puts in place this thing that makes it so he causes harm to yeowoon when he's around, and its only by garnering affection that he can prevent it. He gives himself a reason from the get go to stay away from yeowoon and reason it as him doing it for yeowoon's safety, when in fact the only way to make yeowoon safe is to increase his affection, which he can only do by being near him. Its a system that at first gives myungha a reason to stay away aka not like himself, but ultimately says the only way you're going to make yeowoon like you, or the only way you can like yourself, is if you accept risk. And that in itself screams to me of a myungha writing in these game systems that are trying to encourage his own-self love while falling at the hurdle of his own lack of self-worth.

The idea is still messy in my head even for me, but i just really like the idea that myungha could be trying to fix this thing both as a character and game master, and that both these versions of him have these flaws that manifest in their different ways to cause the events we see. It kinda is the definition of being your own worst enemy, the idea that in order to work towards loving yourself, the biggest obstacle you have to encounter is yourself, bc we are the ones holding ourselves back, making all these rules that make it harder to like ourselves and pursue our own happiness. The voices in our head telling us that we aren't good enough and aren't deserving are our own, and while the things that happen to us can inform what they say, we're the one's reinforcing those words. And what this show teaches us is that, if we're the one holding that pen all along, we can choose to change what those words are. If we make the rules, you don't have to create a game with concrete ultimatums, you can create a game where rules don't control you. Instead, you make the decisions, and you can make the ones that make you happy.

[silverskye13]

Ooooo it was so hard picking just one prompt, but for the Situation Game- Could you do #48? Enemy caretaker fic with Tanguish and Wels? Tanguish finds Wels unconscious and (against his better judgement) takes care of him until he wakes up. (Alternatively, you could do Helsknight and Tango, if that first prompt doesn't click. I've been drawing those two interacting so they've been on my mind lol)

He hadn't expected to find him there, was the thing. Tango had asked him to go check through Decked Out while he was gone -- some meetup with Impulse and Zed, it sounded like it would take awhile. Tanguish had heard rockets and wisely hid, and then the rockets left. He assumed someone was dropping something off, or maybe had planned to see Tango only to realize Tango wasn't there. And maybe that was exactly what happened.

The important thing was: Tanguish didn't hear what direction the rockets went. He didn't hear the Warden caged downstairs growl or shriek. He didn't hear a crash, or a scream, or any other indication that an accident had happened. So when he stumbled on Welsknight on the lowest floor of Decked Out, unconscious, it had been... Well it had been a shock. He hadn't even known it was a person at first. He saw a bundle of something on the ground, and he placed down the shulker box he'd been carrying and went over to investigate. When the pile of elytra and armor resolved itself into Welsknight, Tanguish froze, heart racing.

(He should leave him here.)

It wasn't a kind thought, but Tanguish was, rightly, he thought, terrified of Welsknight. If their situations were switched, and it was Welsknight walking up on Tanguish crumpled and unconscious on the floor, he was sure the knight would kill him and he done with it. Just one less problem to deal with. Simple. And while Tanguish was far from able to kill in cold blood -- or killing in general -- leaving the knight here would serve a similar end. Not his problem. He would wake up, or he wouldn't. Tango would find him, or he wouldn't. Whatever happened, it didn't have to be Tanguish that dealt with it.

Except, standing over Welsknight, Tanguish was struck by how much he looked like Helsknight. Their differences were unmistakable up close. He was an inch or two shorter, his hair a sun-gilded auburn, and even bruised he looked gentler, like the world had been kind to him. Their resemblance was brotherly, something about the build and the set of the jaw. But it was enough that Tanguish imagined Helsknight crumpled on the ground somewhere, and how terrible it would be to leave him behind. So, lanced with guilt that made no sense, but compelled to act on it regardless, Tanguish set to work making sure the fool knight didn't die.

Tanguish didn't have much on his person to help with healing, and even if he knew where Tango kept potions, it would be a long climb back up to the Decked Out storage room. He did his best to check for broken bones, looking for odd angles or swelling or crooked joints and finding none. He had to take off the knight's helmet to check for a head injury, found a pretty decent welt, but nothing that suggested blood or breaking.

Tanguish glanced around. They weren't really in the safest place. Beneath the unfinished game, scaffolding blocks and incomplete redstone lines cast long shadows where creatures spawned and congregated, and it wouldn't do to get them both killed by a spider or a zombie down here. Tanguish tentatively explored around, and managed to find a suitably defensible crevasse (a hole in the wall really, probably dug out while Tango was measuring something or other to do with the game). He circled his arms around Welsknight's chest and, as gingerly as possible, tried to drag him in that direction. Then less gingerly, when the knight barely budged. And then Tanguish slumped to the ground because, gods and saints, were people always that heavy? He knew he wasn't the strongest, but he could carry his own weight up the side of a building. Surely he could drag a knight a couple dozen blocks?

Tanguish huffed out a sigh and stared down at Welsknight thoughtfully. "You're more trouble than you're worth, you know that?"

(That was mean. Even enemies were worth saving, so long as they didn't do something mean to make him regret it after.)

Tanguish took another pensive look around, and content nothing was about to attack him for his efforts, knelt and began taking the knight's armor off. He had a little knowledge of all the different buckles and bracers and how they worked (he'd seen Helsknight take them on and off a thousand times). It took some fumbling, especially around the chest plate, where he had to gently turn Welsknight over and prop him up, and support his head because flopping around on his neck like that couldn't be good for him, and, gods, this was stupid and awkward and terrible. He really, really should've just left. But then he was done, and when he slipped his arms around the knight to drag him again, he actually managed to move him a few steps without his back breaking, so he took that as his sign from the universe to keep going.

Tanguish wanted the universe to know he tried to be gentle. He wasn't big and strong like Helsknight (and probably Welsknight too). He couldn't casually pick up people and carry them around, or throw them over his shoulders. And if Welsknight were conscious enough for a piggy back ride, Tanguish was pretty sure he would just fall over if he tried to take a step. So dragging the knight two dozen blocks to a little hidey hole in the wall was the best, safest, and really only option at his disposal. Once inside, he scurried out to his shulker box, snatched it up, and dropped it in the entrance to the hiding place so anything that might want to come in would have a harder time. He wished there was something useful inside. He had planned on mob proofing while Tango was gone, stringing around glow lichen so his double would have a safer time working on his game. He had a few snacks, some water, and about a stack and a half of lichen left. That was all he'd bothered to bring with him. Now he wished he had brought something actually helpful.

Tanguish weighed his options, staring down at the still unconscious knight. Leaving sprung to his mind first -- Welsknight was reasonably safe now. The chances of something finding him was relatively small, and if he hung up some glow lichen before he left, the light might ward off anything that did notice him. He thought about maybe bringing the knight to hels, where he might find some help. But that help would probably be Helsknight, and he didn't know how much he trusted those two together. He was... Reasonably sure Helsknight wouldn't kill his double while he was unconscious, but he had no idea what he would do when Welsknight woke up. And Welsknight probably wouldn't take kindly to waking up in hels anyway. He could try to get help? Wander around the server just hoping he stumbled upon Tango, alone? No. No he wasn't going to do that.

Tanguish sighed, rolled his eyes at his own powerlessness. After a few more moments of deliberation, he pulled out his water and a few clumps of lichen. He had a half-remembered thought from somewhere that lichen could be medicinal. He had no idea if this lichen was, but he at least knew it was spongy and could hold a bit of water. He made himself a little ball with the stuff, soaked it, and gingerly placed it against the lump on Welsknight's head. He knew his hands would chill it, and frost crept around his fingertips the longer he held his makeshift compress. He pillowed the knight's head in his lap -- it seemed the most comfortable for both of them in the combined space -- and settled in to wait until Tango came back, or Welsknight awoke, and he hoped the knight would either be too incoherent or too grateful to kill him if the waking came first.

Outside his little hideaway, Tanguish listened to the sounds of monsters crawling to life. The tip-tap-skitter of spider legs. The moans and grumbles of the nearly sleepwalking dead. The occasional croaking mutter of an enderman. He didn't hear creepers (He didn't think anyone could hear creepers.) They crept around on quiet claws, a breath of fur and dark, glaring expressions. One snuck up to his hideaway and peered inside, gazing at him with bottomless black eyes. It hissed, smelling or sensing him and trying, vainly, to threaten him. It couldn't come through the wall, and it didn't give off its tell-tale flashing. Tanguish narrowed his eyes at the thing and hissed back, a keening noise that sent a shiver down his spine, and echoed off the walls of his little hideaway like a sculk shrieker. The creeper lurched backward (most natural things feared sculk on an instinctual level) and it scuttled away into the dark. Tanguish snorted in the general direction of the fleeing creature, and looked down at Welsknight. He gently moved his compress, and felt some satisfaction at seeing the swelling had gone down.

"You know, you knights really are strange sometimes," Tanguish informed the unconscious Welsknight, as though he could hear. "All the armor, and the oaths, and reckless danger -- and you're just as mortal as the rest of us." Tanguish leaned his head back against the wall behind him. "Do you have tenets like Helsknight does? Stuff you swore to do? You've got to, right? That's what makes you a knight, instead of just a guy with a sword."

Tanguish's tail twitched thoughtfully. "You and Helsknight feel the same way about technicalities, so you probably can't truly lie. You just dance around the truth a little, like he does. Let people come to their own conclusions... You shouldn't do that."

Tanguish readjusted his compress. "It makes people feel patronized, like you think they're too stupid to figure out what you're saying. And it makes us feel stupid for trusting you. Like on the aqueduct. I didn't really have a choice but... I really did believe I was safe. It was... Cruel... To take that back."

Tanguish felt nervousness reignite in his stomach, a turning and writhing at the danger he was in, implicitly.

"That would be like me waiting for you to wake up, just to hurt you," Tanguish said quietly, his free hand dipping down to the dagger on his hip. The cold metal, the waiting intention the weapon held, felt almost electric and alive against his fingertips. "All this trouble and effort to keep you safe, discarded over something as petty as who the universe likes best." He thought about Helsknight, and the importance he placed on time. "What a terrible waste of time."

Tanguish sighed and studied the ceiling, tracing the textures in the stone overhead with his eyes. He could see the pickaxe marks where Tango had tunneled this out, long gouges and sharp-edged chips.

"I think I understand why he feels the way he does about you. About all of you. You don't understand what you have." Tanguish looked down at the knight, who, despite what had surely been a terrible fall, merely looked like he slept. "It isn't just death that's a mild inconvenience. Everything is. Eternity is sitting in front of you. Even the largest problems, miseries that could span decades, will be nothing in the blink of an eye. There is no such thing as wasted time. There is no discomfort in doing something badly, or even passably. There's just... The endless possibility to try again. Even my saving you right now is, at best, a very odd, kind gesture, because you don't have a limited number of times to come back. There's no fear in the universe deciding this time it will just swallow you. What I'm doing is meaningless, so meaningless it might not even change your opinion of me, unless it's impressive to you that someone who shouldn't have bothered, did. Impressive, and not terribly stupid."

(He was starting to feel terribly stupid, all things considered.)

Movement caught Tanguish's eye, and he sat quietly as some monster or another passed their hiding place, shuffling off in the dark.

"There's no urgency for change." Tanguish whispered. "There's no pressure for legacy. It's like building sand castles in the desert, with no waves to knock them down. There's no reason to find them precious, no urgency to finish before the tide comes, no cherishing the seconds before they're weathered away. They'll just be there tomorrow, or the next time you get around to paying them attention. It's a beautiful gift, and you have no context to appreciate it. I understand why. You've never lived anything different to give you perspective... But I also understand why he hates you for it."

Tanguish blinked out at the world beyond his little keyhole, where danger stalked, undisturbed and wholly uninterested in him.

"No wonder the universe makes us," Tanguish said. "Why else would you have any reason to change?"

Tanguish looked down at Welsknight again. He studied the knight's face, all the things about him that stayed steadfast and unchanging, uncaring that his existence weathered Helsknight away everyday. That he was a wave, and Tanguish and Helsknight and everyone like them were just sand castles waiting.

"You probably won't," Tanguish murmured, "but I hope someday you figure out how to love him. Love the parts of yourself you hate so much right now. Helsknight is terrifying, and overbearing, and too strong for his own good. He walks through the world like he wishes he could bully it into being fair." Tanguish let out a breath. "But he tries so hard to be good, and any goodness I've learned, I think I learned from him. In spite of him. Because of him."

A sadness washed through him then, and Tanguish spoke soberly. "Someday it will be just you and Tango. A month from now. Or a year. Or whatever our lifetimes amount to. When that day comes, I hope you'll look at each other, and somewhere, me and Helsknight will glimpse each other again. I hope whatever the end looks like, it isn't lonely."

Tanguish fell silent, waiting with infinite patience for Welsknight to wake. He must have dozed off, because he roused to the sound of a groan, and Welsknight slowly rolling over to reach the sore spot on the back of his head. Tanguish held his breath. He probably should have figured out what he was going to do when Welsknight woke up. He had no plan, no idea-- hels he was trapped in a confined space with him! Wait -- his coin. Right.

Welsknight's eyes fluttered open. He frowned first in confusion, then recognition, and then Tanguish's coin was in his fist and he was gone.

In hels, Tanguish leaned against the front door of the house, eyes closed, trying to calm his breathing. It really shouldn't be a big deal. Welsknight hadn't even had the time to threaten him. It was just the residual terror of past bad experiences, the adrenaline rush of realizing he was trapped in a room with a tiger. But he was home now, and he shouldn't be afraid -- didn't have to be afraid.

"You're home early," Helsknight said, sounding concerned, and very close by. He must have been writing at the table. In the time Tanguish had been forcing himself to calm, Helsknight stood and cautiously crossed to him. "Did something happen?"

(Did Welsknight happen?)

"N-no," Tanguish said unconvincingly. And further discredited himself by stepping forward, and hugging Helsknight. He could feel Helsknight's concerned frown in his posture, in the slow way he hugged him back, offering confused comfort.

"Are you... sure?"

"Just glad you're still here," Tanguish said.

"Ah." Helsknight hummed, as though he understood. His hug deepened a bit. "Still here. Are you?"

"I think so."

"Good. I guess I'm glad too, then."

[hiridraws]

alcor <3

transcendence au recently popped back up and got me in a chokehold for the past week or so, and naturally i had to draw my beloved little guy <3

[see-arcane]

Jack when narrating about telling Mina about the mens' attack on Dracula in London:

she grew snowy white at times when danger had seemed to threaten her husband, and red at others when his devotion to her was manifested

Mina blushing at Jonathan's acts of devotion omg...

When we came to the part where Harker had rushed at the Count so recklessly, she clung to her husband’s arm, and held it tight as though her clinging could protect him from any harm that might come.

Protective instincts aside I love Jack saying that his attack was "so recklessly". He did fear for Jonathan's life and tried to shield him with a crucifix and a wafer because he kept trying to Kill. I imagine him talking about the attack with the tone of a man who is wiping his sweating forehead going "And then, the absolute madlad-"

Jack: "We were trying to play it safe, united front and all, except someone kept trying to actively gut the ancient undead horror right then and there. And then he lizard fashioned out the window to try it again when said undead horror threw himself out of the building to escape. And then he went chasing after the undead horror to try and carve him open in the middle of a crowded street. If Dracula hadn't sprinted for it I'm pretty sure your husband would have filleted him in the Square. And this was all after he swore out loud to sell his soul to kill the Count and send him to Hell."

Jonathan: "Sorry I didn't slaughter him for you yet, darling 🥺"

Mina, simultaneously terrified and so aroused she can't see straight: "that's fine my love it's great it's cool"

[fatedroses]

That one teacher/mentor moment and Zenos feeling embarrassed for the first time in years (and reacting just about as well as you'd expect him to).

[chelledoggo]

cinematic parallels

[zeroends]

What's so glorious and beautiful about the story that was pulled so carefully out of the very much inconsistent and shitty writing of the dsmp was not the content itself but all it proved of the people around it. It proved that many of those people had the capacity of seeing so so much more.

Much before I was into it, my view of the content I consumed was shallow. I took it as it was. To care about dsmp you had to drop all of the comfort of being shallow and become a writer internally. It's hard to connect with someone threatening to jump from a dirt tower in minecraft, it's easy however when it represents the final destination of someone who is socially dead from a miscommunication. It's hard to connect with someone taking a minecraft disc from someone, it's easy when the discs represents a time of peacefulness, one that no one but one person knows fully how to value.

And yes, people enjoyed it for the content creators. Some people didn't feel the need to look that deep. but many did. and it's something I appreciate to see. All stories always hold more meaning than what some may think. Even past what the writer will think. All art is up for interpretation by the viewer whether anyone chooses it or not.