#i want this other reality So Bad

[fuck-off-im-ace]

I think we, as a fandom, don't talk enough about this moment. Cause what the fuck.

[randomalistic]

Wait you guys are actually buying Disney products I thought it was a joke

(READ TAGS FOR FULL CONTEXT Sorry it’s long dies

[mochii-derogatory]

ive been watching the dog motif show... why is no one talking about this guy. isaac lahey come home from france,,,, sweet boy,,,, we miss you,,,

[silusvesuius]

testing out drawing maormer 🪸🐚🪸 and a nelvas 🧣📜🩷 i'll ramble about maormer a bit in the tags

[tacagen]

one of the things that fascinate me about thawne: yes, he CAN be normal with kids! surprisingly normal!

((not at all times, though. his mental illness still spills through and as usual he, in trying to manipulate or hurt others, spits out at them the exact stuff that would hurt him (or have in his childhood/barry's rejection interpretation) the most in the first place lmao))

but at the same time. his like second instinct when doing his bullshit is FUCK THEM (as) KIDS

(and, well. whatever this classifies as)

[cent-scratchnsniff]

it was just going to be a few warmup doodles but then she infected the rest of the page like the ever eternal and spreading spores. hod!!! hod. hod :)

[rocketbirdie]

I LOVE LOVE LOVE UR DARK ZACK AU!!! everything i’ve seen about it so far just has me so !!!! its so good. and would love to hear more about it :)

ooooooughhh dark!zack my darling sweetie angel love of my life

admittedly i don't have much of a plot going for them rn LOL just jingling them like keys in my brain

It's a Zack who decided he's sick of being a doormat. Being friendly and giving people the benefit of the doubt is what led to Shinra ripping away the most formative years of their lives.

For a long time, Zack tried to uphold his code of ethics, in spite of all the violence. At first he told himself it was just to protect Cloud... but over time, the more people he had to kill, the more it dawned on him that they will never be able to return to a normal life.

Once he stopped trying to make excuses, he found himself quite enjoying his new identity as a terrifying ex-SOLDIER fugitive. Things are much simpler now that he's free of moral obligations! People finally take him seriously, nobody bosses him around, he has control and it's SO addicting.

Now don't get him wrong, he's not a psycho killer, he just... happens to, um, murder people that get in his way.

[shiverhohojiro]

every so often I see people who believe that The Entire Octarian Army is Female Only. sometimes simultaneously inventing very weird new forms of gendered oppression to go along with it. when DJ Octavio (male octoling) is right there. He's at the head of it. He's a guy? His squad of elite attack lesbians (the takozones) does not represent the army as a whole even if they're the only octolings we see not in swim form. People's eyes simply glaze over him. It would be like if people insisted there are only female squids because all the idols are female [Craig Cuttlefish continues to exist right there]

[bitchthefuck1]

you know what, I actually will talk about this because it's bothering me. The issue with focussing so heavily on syd and carmy's potential for a romantic relationship isn't that there's something inherently unintellectual about romance or whatever, it's that a lot of people seem incapable of doing that without immediately flattening the story and ignoring or intentionally misreading any and all nuance for the sake of that romance. Every scene suddenly becomes about how it impacts their relationship, every analysis is done through a romantic lens, every frame or line of dialogue becomes about finding some easter egg or hint that "proves" these people should start dating. Their dynamic is absolutely a fundamental part of this show, but if you can only see it as a will-they-won't-they, you miss so much of what the story is actually trying to say with these two.

There are good versions of this story where their relationship is romantic and there are good versions of this story where it isn't, but as soon as you decide them being together is "the point," you lose the ability to actually judge the story for what it is, not what you want it to be.

[the-yearning-astronaut]

I wish I could be agender the way Murderbot is agender. Right down to the lack of biological sexual characteristics. So agender that the term agender comes with too much associated gender to accurately apply. You know what I mean?

[dykedvonte]

i think the most cruel thing you can do with boone is completing his mission and then telling him to be resentful

While that is very cruel it is partially a conclusion Boone comes to himself. I was speaking more thing are like direct actions you do to them rather than your influence.

Like yeah it’s really fucked I’m listing to this guy who clearly needs therapy and to move on and then saying he never should causing him to harness it into bloodlust. But you don’t directly force his hands to that. It’s a technicality but then you can actually trick him into shooting an innocent person which is like super fucked since you just met the guy.

[tea-cat-arts]

People on this website will be like "you can't handle the moral nuance of Madoka Magica! Not everything is black and white" and then claim everyone criticizing Homura's actions thinks she's a terrible person in the same sentence

[dimonds456-art]

Maladaptive daydreaming.

[t-u-i-t-c]

Taiya Hando in Bakuage Sentai BoonBoomger 01x37 Two Spies

+ bonus

[avidaraku]

after watching a playthrough of Indika, I think it rly is so interesting seeing how expansive it is - esp after watching the demo ages ago. So many things click, like a cog in a machine, and this game has truly thrown me so many surprises at every turn, including how Indika turned into a nun.

even though I never was raised religiously in my house, there is that cultural understanding of what it means to sin and to be influenced by the fear of death and disobedience. Don't have much thoughts but I loved the ending soooo much - (spoilers!!) but I love that Indika's reflection of God and the Devil are clearly parts of her that have consumed her and that you cannot get rid of the bad if you also want to be good. You need both evil and justice, hot and cold, sharp and round - things that you think can easily exist on its own, cannot be defined by as a universality.

Sometimes I see myself as a walking corpse, and I think about my own death every time I look into the mirror. And honestly - I'm glad I can see a game clearly represent that rotting panic and urge to prove that you are not this bad person, the moments where you just have unending conversations with the worst parts of yourself and somehow everything has made you worse. I fucking LOVE that. We all have devils and gods inside of us, for better or for worse.

it is absolutely devastating when the journey comes to an end with our companion, who we decided to take a bet on, and everything goes to fucking shit. reality is often humbling and disappointing - with Ilya unable to "talk to God" and his arm will never come back. But man, did I love how the perspective of the game shifted from third person (omniscent, out of boundaries of the human realm) to first person (in reality, no longer above humanity) in the ending. It is deeply unsettling how different everything is after Indika manages to escape from her imprisonment, and how it is the devil that helps her escape. You can't tell what Indika is thinking anymore, not when now you can only see through her eyes. Even in the mirrors, when Indika stares at herself in the mirror of the pawnshop - it is the face of the Devil until the very last moment. Then you see how she's permanently changed, no longer wearing her nun habit, all her original thoughts on her journey initially coming to a hush.

it was a very bizarre but also such a cool game, I'm so glad i got to witness this journey! I would highly recommend it if you want to see some very cool displays on faith and doubt - the game gets very philosophical, unsurprisingly, but I also enjoy the Devil's voice. It's very well written and also I really enjoyed that convo between Indika and the Devil where their silhouettes were essentially merging in and out with each other in a pool of red. Probably one of my favs if u ignore the ones with Ilya haha. There's definitely more I could talk abt, but all in all, I do love how full circle this game comes. Very satisfying even if the game takes things in a crazy spin, and im sure a lot of ppl aren't used to that.

[feroluce]

When Al Haitham dreams, it's in shades of sandy blonde and red, metallic gold and feather-blue. His nightmares are colored much the same.

Kaveh leisurely strolls ahead of him, shoes leaving deep treads in the soft desert sand. He keeps a careful distance, arms length, and in return Al Haitham keeps an eye on him, the other man's back dead center in his sights.

He curses the sand in his boots and the long line of footprints he steps into, already the exact shape of the soles of his shoes.

They aren't lost. Al Haitham knows where they are. They've been here before. They are still here.

Kaveh doesn't watch their feet. His head is constantly tipped back with his eyes on the stars and their constellations (of which Al Haitham only knows two, Vultur Volans and Paradisaea). He'll walk right into a cactus like that. Al Haitham yells ahead for him to watch where he's going.

Kaveh reaches up to touch the side of his head in a strange motion, but otherwise there's no acknowledgement. They press on into the dark of night.

Something squelches beneath Al Haitham's boot.

It stops him short, pulls his attention like a magnet and as much as he wants to, he can't ignore it. He doesn't want to lose any more ground. But something won't let him move on. Al Haitham watches as red seeps into the golden sand, spills beyond the border of his bootprint until he slides his foot aside.

It's an ear.

It's a human ear, and there's a heavy earring attached, metallic gold, gems red and green, a familiar shape, a familiar shade-

Al Haitham opens his mouth to yell. Chokes. Swallows the lump in his throat as he quickly restarts his pace. Tries again.

"Hey!"

Another squelch under a hurried footstep. He doesn't stop to look. Al Haitham is pretty sure he knows what it is.

"Kaveh, hey!"

The path becomes littered, little slices and small pieces, fingertips and knuckles, Kaveh's arms once held casually behind his back now strewn along the sands. Every time Al Haitham extends his hand to him, reality warps and bends like the twisted image in a broken mirror, lines mismatched and edges jagged. Kaveh flits just beyond his grasp, fleeting fae, no longer able to hear him or to reach out to him. Al Haitham can only grit his teeth and follow.

His right foot marches forward. His left follows. His right again. His left suddenly doesn't follow, and Al Haitham is thrown off balance and pitches forward, swinging his arms outward to land on his palms and keep his face off the ground, because he's been in the desert enough times to know what a foot suddenly being stuck can mean.

Quicksand.

Al Haitham curses and swears in just about every language he knows as he tries to spread his weight as evenly as possible, stay afloat at the top of it because if he sinks, he knows he'll be done for, and shit, Kaveh.

His neck cranes uncomfortably in his search, Kaveh had only been a few feet in front of him, he can't be sunk much further, and he's in the desert much more often than Al Haitham anyway, he'll be familiar with what to do-

Kaveh stands in front of him, empty sleeves fluttering loose. Still just out of his grasp, still watching the stars. The quicksand is already up to his calves.

"Say, Al Haitham..." It's the first he's spoken this whole time. His voice resonates somewhere deeply nostalgic in Al Haitham's chest, produces a ripple that momentarily stuns his heart.

Kaveh is sinking.

Al Haitham stretches out on his belly as far as he's able, it's quickly up to his knees, Kaveh isn't even trying to redistribute his weight or pull himself out, it's at his thighs, Al Haitham sucks in a breath and yells for him, his hips, yells louder, his waist, Al Haitham's trembling fingertips can almost reach, his chest, Kaveh drops level with him, quicksand about his neck like a noose.

Kaveh's head tips back, back, impossibly far back, until it hangs, angle awkward, and he's looking right past Al Haitham with his tired smile and gouged, blinded sockets full of starlight.

"Do you believe in karma?"

The quicksand swallows him entirely and Al Haitham dives, shoves his arms deep and pushes off with the one foot he'd had left on safe ground, because he can't, he can't, it's not the same without Kaveh, not anymore, he needs him, no one else keeps him sharp, no one else challenges him like Kaveh, if he can just grab him, if he can just pull him back up-

Al Haitham thrashes, against the sands, against gravity, against the hardwood of his bedroom floor. Clumsily scrubs the back of his hand across his face to rub the grit of quicksand and sleep out of his eyes.

Sometimes he thinks he preferred it when the Akasha was still harvesting his dreams.

He pops his head out from under his weighted blanket and lays where he'd fallen out of bed for a moment, blinking blearily against the lamplight shining from his desk in the corner. Deep breaths. His consciousness shifts along the blurred line of nightmare and reality, crosses over the slow transition into wakeful awareness.

He's home, Kaveh is home. It's dark out. The house is dead silent.

He's just going to go check, he tells himself as he peels himself out of his sweat-soaked shirt and roots around for a replacement. He's already losing memories of his nightmare, the details spilling away from him like wet ink, but he knows he needs to see Kaveh. It'll feel better to do something, anything, than try to go straight back to sleep.

He's quiet when he slips out of his bedroom door, because they both keep late hours but their bedrooms are right next to each other, and Al Haitham will never hear the end of it if he wakes his roommate up.

Lights off, door shut. Nothing conclusive. He moves out to the main room.

Kaveh sits on one of those ridiculous sofas he'd ordered three of for some reason, back to him as he tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. A mostly-empty wine bottle stands tall on the table, next to the cobbled-together remains of an architectural model that's been picked and fussed over for four days straight now.

"Kaveh? What are you doing?"

This earns him an exaggerated startle, but Kaveh doesn't turn to look at him, preoccupied with whatever new sketch or blueprint he probably has in his hands. "Ohhh, nothing," he slurs cheerfully. "Just working. Just thinking."

Kaveh has always been the world's chattiest drinker. Al Haitham waits for the rest of it.

"Say, I think...I think I asked you this years ago, back then, but you never answered me." Al Haitham feels all the blood drain from his face in ominous familiarity, drip cold down the length of his spine. Kaveh sinks into the couch until he can tip his head over the back of it, looking up at him with a tired smile and exhausted eyes.

"Do you believe in karma?"