#so I thought “Why not do my own interpretation for it?”

[holdmytesseract]

One Night or Forever?

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When one thing leads to another, you and Daryl spend a passionate night together at the CDC. Unfortunately, neither of you is interpreting the signals right afterwards...

Warnings: 18+! MDNI! smut (not entirely graphic, but it's definitely there - like, you know exactly what's going on), uhhh sub and dom Daryl? unprotected rough-ish sex? Daryl gets a bj (yes, you read that right), he's a bit mean, too - but also a cutie patootie, uhh slight angst? bit of drama, alcohol - drunk-ish Daryl and tipsy reader, fluff, swear words, bickering

Set in Season 1!

Word Count: 4,5k

a/n: You want it, you got it, friends. I don't know what this is, though - or which demons possessed me as I wrote it. I really don't. I also don't know how I should feel about it. Embarrassed? Proud? Send help, lol.

Anyways, I hope you like this! Please go easy on me. Smut isn't really my forte...

EoH Masterlist °☆• LITRM Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Booyah!"

Daryl's toast had been the starting shot for an evening full of conversation, fun, laughter - and alcohol. Some would say reams of alcohol. Wine, booze, beer - you and the group stopped at nothing. That was probably the reason why everyone staggered somewhere on a scale between tipsy and shit faced drunk at the end of the evening.

You were currently on your way to your personal room - something you'd describe as a luxury. Sure, back at the quarry you had your own tent, but there was a huge difference between that and a whole goddamn room. With a own freaking shower! It was crazy. Who would've thought that something so plain and simple would become such a valued, precious thing? Most likely nobody, because it was something taken for granted.

Well... Not anymore. Not since the world went to shit.

After passing a very drunk Glenn on the way, you more or less stumbled into your room. Tipsy... You were definitely tipsy. Without a single care in the world, you started to shed your clothes the moment the door shut close behind you. All you wanted to do was sleep. You had too much alcohol coursing through your veins to search for something you could use as a pyjama. You hadn't a problem with sleeping naked. Not tonight.

Unfortunately had your plan a catch... One that you weren't aware of yet.

This wasn't your room.

You were just about to free your body of the last piece of fabric you were wearing - a pair of admittedly beautiful dark blue lace panties, when a sudden voice managed to almost send you into cardiac arrest.

"Wha' the fuck 'r ya doin' in my room?!"

You startled so bad, that you almost lost balance and fell flat on your ass. Your balance was a bit off-track anyways, due to the wine...

With wide eyes you turned around to face the intruder.

"Daryl?"

You blinked. "What are you doing here?" He scoffed; his cheeks puffed out and reddened. He had been drinking way more than you did, and it showed. The archer's hands were fumbling clumsily with the fly of his jeans. "Jus' been taken a damn piss, 'n 'm comin' back to find ya standin' in my room." You crossed your arms over your bare - an information which hadn't reached Daryl's brain yet - chest. "This is clearly my room, Dixon." He scoffed again. "'S not!" "Yes, it is!" "'S not!" The man took a few wobbly steps closer. "Go bullshit someone else, I-" He stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence; eyes widening to the size of plates. Now the information had been received and processed.

"Yer almost naked," he stated; bluntly staring.

Oh, you suddenly realised and remembered as well. He was right.

In any other situation, you'd have frantically tried to cover yourself up and perhaps even threw an insult at the man standing across from you, but the alcohol lowered your boundary of shame and loosened you up; making you see things more relaxed.

You huffed out a breath. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Daryl still blinked and tried very hard to not let his eyes drop, but that was an almost impossible task for the alcoholized man. "Why?" You shrugged your shoulders. "'Cause I wanted to go to sleep." The archer swallowed hard. "In my room? Naked? Ya lost yer damn mind, woman?" "It's my room," your tipsy self was still profoundly convinced, while you made your way over to the bed on slightly wobbly legs. Daryl just watched you; flabbergasted, speechless, shocked - and incredibly turned on. After all, he had a damn pretty woman in his room - no, bed. Half naked!

"You could join me, Dixon." He scoffed again and tried to walk in a straight line over to the armchair; accepting his fate. "In yer damn dreams. 'S ain't gonna help me - or my hard-on." You giggled at his words like a schoolgirl and rolled around in the sheets. "That the reason why you can't get that zipper up? You like me, Daryl? Like what you see?" You pestered him with questions; smirking, and watched his cheeks redden even more - if that was physically possible and your eyes didn't betray you. "Shuddup," Daryl just growled in response. You giggled again, before a long beat of silence passed between the both of you.

The alcohol didn't just lower your boundary of shame... It also caused you to become bolder. "I could help you with that, you know..." You tried to sound as flirty and seductive as possible and turned in the sheets once more, but now to face the man sitting across from the bed. You perched yourself onto your stomach and crossed your ankles in the air; swaying your legs.

Gods, you felt like a teenager again. Damn the alcohol and your crush on the archer. It was a dangerous combination, since you hadn't planned to actually act on said crush. Well, and here you were now in his - nu.uh, your - bed, almost naked and trying to seduce him.

Some might say this escalated quickly...

"Help me with wha'?" The archer finally responded after a long moment; dumbfounded. His usually very smart and witty brain slowed down by the alcohol. You thought for a hot minute that he had already fallen asleep on you. You rolled your eyes and groaned - acting like Daryl just said the stupidest thing in the world. "Your boner," you deadpanned - as if it was the most normal thing to say.

The archer swallowed hard; feeling his chest (and pants) tightening.

"Wha'?" He crooked out. The normally so talkative, glibly redneck seemingly rendered speechless by your boldness.

Once again, you rolled your eyes. "Do you reaaaaally want me to spell it out for you, D?" Daryl clearly needed a moment to recover, but once he did, he scoffed.

"Pf, yer bluffin'."

"I'm not."

"Yeah, ya 'r."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, ya 'r. Can tell. Yer way to innocent fer shit like tha', sunshine."

"Are you challenging me, Dixon?"

"Nah, jus' statin' facts."

Now you were the one who scoffed. He really asked for it, didn't he? You smirked and hid your face in the blanket beneath you. Oh, you were so going to prove him wrong.

You rolled your barely covered body around a third time, but this time to get up from the bed - which was a much more difficult task than expected, but you made it in the end - even though not gracefully and certainly not seductively. "Facts, huh?" You asked the crossbow-wielding archer then with a raised eyebrow and your hands on your hips. He crossed his arms over his plaid beige-brown shirt clad chest; bare forearms and biceps bulging with the movement. "Yes, facts." Although he stared into your eyes with his blue coloured irises, he still had a hard time for them to actually stay on your face.

"Well, you can go screw your opinions - or me. Your choice, pretty boy," you stated and shrugged your shoulders as you bridged the short distance between the bed and the armchair. Before the younger Dixon could even do as much as open his mouth for a snarky respond, you had dropped to your knees in front of him - between his manspread legs.

Daryl's eyes widened and his jaw slacked. "Wha' 'r ya doin'?!" He literally screeched and gripped the armrests of the armchair. "Proofing you wrong, pretty boy." You smiled up at him like a Cheshire cat; hands and fingers clumsily trying to open his jeans. "F-Fuckin' hell, wha'?! Yer insane, woman!" The archer cursed above you, but also didn't make any moves to stop you. So, you took that as a sign to continue. And continuing you did...

It took you a hot minute to get your eye-hand coordination straight and overcome the obstacles which were his jeans and boxers, but once you did, there was no holding back. "Ya really gonna do th- F-Fuck..."

You did.

"Told you, Dixon," you stated with a mischievous glimmer in your eyes; hands firmly cupping him. Daryl answered nothing. The archer had a hard time to control his breathing and rapidly beating heart. He was still gripping the armrests like a vice - his knuckles already turning white. He really couldn't believe this was happening right now. Was he asleep and dreaming? Was he hallucinating? Did the wine manage to fog up his brain so much that his eyes were deceiving him? But when he felt your lips wrap around him, he instantly threw all those thoughts overboard again. This was real. It had to be real. After all, he was feeling it, right?

"F-Fuckin' hell," he cursed again; feeling waves of pleasure crash over him. One of his hands loosened its grip on the armrest and went in your hair instead - tying your loose hair into a makeshift ponytail. You were already too far gone to care; the taste of him addictive.

Working your magic, you tried to grant the man above you as much pleasure as possible - and it seemed to work. Within a few minutes, Daryl was a whimpering mess - a side you'd never thought you were ever going to see of him. Not in your wildest dreams.

"Ain't... Ain't g-gonna last," the archer panted breathlessly; the hand in your hair twitching. You didn't want him to. You wanted him to fall apart. A gentle squeeze of your hand was all it took. "Y-Y/N, damnit, 'm gon'- Gonna cu-" His sentence got interrupted by a low moan that paved its way to the forefront of his lips. The hand in your hair twitched again as he attempted to pull you off him. You didn't let him, though, and easily dodged his lousy attempt. Instead, you helped him ride the wave. His thighs twitched; muscles tensing as his high crashed into him. Daryl felt like he had been hit by an eighteen-wheeler - but in the best way possible. It had been so long...

The gentle grip he had of your hair slackened; hand falling limply to his side. You lifted your head to look at him to witness his blissed-out state. Daryl's eyes were closed, and his breathing laboured. You smiled; hands gently caressing his clothed thighs. "You believe me now, D?" He gave you a mere nod. Clearly he needed another few moments to get his head straight again. Your smile never ceased as you kept up your fingers movements. Your knees protested by now, but you didn't care.

Another few moments passed, before the archer peeled his eyes open again. Seeing you still on your knees for him managed to send another shockwave of arousal throughout his entire body.

Wide-blown eyes stared at you intensely; the gears turning in his fogged up head.

"T-Thanks, I guess," he whispered then. His voice was still hoarse. You smiled up at him. "You're welcome, pretty boy. Said I'm gonna help you." Daryl nodded almost shyly and clumsily stuffed himself back inside his boxers. You eyed him thoroughly and started to giggle. "Didn't think you'd loose it so fast. Wouldn't have pecked you to be a... premature guy." Not that it mattered to you, but you couldn't help yourself but to tease him a bit. It was meant to be a playful comment, but you seemed to hit a sore spot...

You could practically see how his eyes darkened, before he narrowed them. "Whatcha say, huh?" He asked in a gruff voice and stood up; towering over you. You blinked - were a bit taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanour. "I-I, uh... Said I didn't think you'd be one t-to, uh, come too early..." The archer growled under his breath. "Ya better watch yer mouth, sunshine," he said in a threatening tone and grabbed your arms to pull you up on your feet. Daryl quickly noticed, though, that his legs were even more wobbly now that they've already been before; forcing him to take cautious steps. "What are we doing, pretty boy? You gonna make me pay for saying that?" You gave another sassy remark; provoking him and tickling his nerve ends even further. A grunt passed his chapped lips as he dragged you with him. Once close to the bed, he wrapped his arms firmly around your bare midsection and literally threw you onto the bed - wobbly legs be damned. You giggled at his eagerness and slid upwards to rest your head on one of the pillows; giving the man a confident look. "C'mon then, pretty boy, show me what you got. I know you want to." He scoffed and crawled on the bed. "Pretty boy my ass." You just giggled again. You felt intoxicated by the wine you had consumed and definitely aroused - which got only worse when you felt calloused, deft hands gripping your delicate skin. Daryl parted your legs and settled on his knees between them. His eyes were directed on your face. He looked like a predator - ready to attack his prey. It was incredibly hot.

"'M gonna shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers, just ya wait," he growled in a deep voice, and wrapped his arms and hands around your thighs like a snake - holding them firmly and simultaneously keeping you splayed open for him, before he literally yanked you down; bringing your hips closer to his.

Your breath hitched in your throat at his sudden movement and the upcoming anticipation.

His fingertips danced over the skin on your hips then - and suddenly got your dark blue lace panties ripped into shreds.

"Daryl!" You shrieked, then gasped. "Those were my favourites, I-" "'S jus' a damn piece 'a fabric. Dun be such a crybaby," he interrupted you; instantly putting you in your place. Your mouth clapped shut. This was yet another new side of him. Sure, you knew he was hotheaded, but he literally just went from kinda submissive to dominant within the blink of an eye. Was it the alcohol? Or truly his temper?

The clinking of his belt ripped you out of your thoughts. Some shuffling and the rustling of fabric was the only premonition you got, before you felt him against your hot and pulsating center. Your hips instantly bucked; trying to get closer.

More friction.

More pleasure.

More of Daryl.

The archer hovering above you scoffed. "Look how needy ya are. Dun even hafta prepare ya." You could see the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smirk. "Tis all jus' from gettin' me off, huh?" You nodded and bit your lip. Daryl on the contrary shook his head, "Yer tha' desperate? Pf... Pathetic." and lined himself up, before hitting home.

Stars exploded in front of your eyes as his hips met yours. The most sinful moan the archer had ever heard in his life slipped past your lips; only spurring him on more. He picked up a firm, steady pace - leaving you a mess beneath him barely within a few minutes. Just what you did to him.

Revenge was sweet, wasn't it?

His precise, powerful thrusts carried you from one high to the next - and Daryl enjoyed it. He loved to see you fall apart beneath him. And this time, he was the one lasting longer. "Who's commin' too soon now, huh? 'S not me, sunshine. Told ya I'd shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers," he growled lowly; slowing his pace to just give you a few moments of recovery. You moaned at the sheer endless pleasure he granted you. Your hands gripped his thick arms like a vice after he had planted both palms firmly in the mattress beside your head to gain more leverage. "F-Fuck, Daryl," you whimpered; fingernails digging into his sweaty biceps. "I know. Jus' one more, 'kay? Can ya give me one more?" You nodded wordlessly. "Good girl," the archer praised and picked up his speed once again; pulling another sweet moan alongside some incoherent noises from you.

Your hands travelled. They left his arms to rest on his chest, where they fisted the fabric of his plaid shirt with the ripped off sleeves. The fabric held a darkened stain - a puddle of sweat formed on his chest.

Your hands continued to fist his shirt, as you pulled - an attempt to undo a few buttons. But once the archer noticed what your mission was, he stopped dead in his movements. "Nah, dun do tha'," he scolded you instantly and peeled your hands away from the fabric covering his upper body. "W-Why?" You asked breathlessly; not understanding his sudden mood shift. "'"Cause I told ya to!" He snapped.

Just in that moment, you realised that you must've hit another sore spot... But this time one that actually seemed to get to him. Not one that managed to turn him on.

"S-Sorry, D-Daryl, I-" You immediately apologised, but got interrupted once more. "Keep holdin' on ta my arms, if yer need sum'thin' to hold on to." His voice was gruff, but way more soft than a few moments ago. The archer redirected your hands and placed them once more around his sweaty biceps. Without another word, he continued where he left off, causing your grip to instantly tighten. "There ya go," he praised you again and readjusted your legs with his thighs. Just the slight change of angle was enough to send you a third time over the edge. This time, though, you dragged him right with you.

A broken sound - close to a cry, left the man's lips as he pulled out and coated the supple skin of your stomach with his release. A single droplet of sweat rolled down his neck as he threw his head back in ecstasy. It was a sight to behold. A sight you might never forget for the rest of your life - no matter how long your life was going to be.

A few moments later collapsed Daryl on the mattress beside you. He was clearly spent. Perhaps this had been something you both needed. Who knew?

"Imma take a shower," the archer announced after a while and left the bed - but not before gentleman-like wiping the mess he made on your stomach away with his hand. Without another word, he left, while you just laid there - still naked and staring at the ceiling; recalling in your mind what just happened. The sex managed to sober you up a bit. Did that really just happen? Had you been dreaming this?

You heard the water run, but not how Daryl returned to the room and settled down for the night in the armchair. You had ventured off to dreamland at some point.

To say the next morning was awkward was an absolute understatement. Awkward was not even remotely enough to describe the vibe between the both of you.

When you woke up again, the archer was nowhere to be seen. Now sober, you left the bed, picked up your clothes, noticed that you truly were - in fact in his room, and tiptoed butt naked down the hallway into your room. Luckily nobody had seen you. That would've been scandalous, right?

Your luck was also that everybody was quite hungover from last night. Some more, some less. Therefore noticed nobody the way you and Daryl acted around each other.

You could barely manage to look into his eyes.

You felt ashamed; thinking that you pushed him too far yesterday night. Thinking, that you were too bold and unable to control your damn feelings. Thinking that you pushed him away, instead of drawing him in. You anticipated that the archer must hate you now - and you couldn't even blame him...

Nevertheless seemed a conversation inevitable. You didn't want to destroy the friendship - if you could even call it that - the both of you had before last night.

It took you days to bite the bullet and ask him to talk, though. Sure, you had been on the road again since the CDC was a dead end, but that wasn't an excuse in your eyes.

"D-Daryl?" You approached him cautiously as you found him alone in the stables of the Greene farm; saddling a horse to go looking for Sophia. "Whatcha want?" He asked you and gave you a short look. You swallowed nervously. "Can we, uh, can we talk?" "'Bout wha'?" You watched him work for a moment, while your fingers fumbled with the hem of your t-shirt; trying to gather all the courage you could find. "That, uh, night at the CDC..." Your words came out as a whisper, but Daryl heard them nonetheless - and froze in all his tracks.

"Why'd ya wanna talk 'bout tha'?" He asked nonchalantly after a beat of silence and continued his work; had seemingly shaken off the small 'shock' quite quick. "I-I..." You started and sighed. "Things f-feel so weird between us since that n-night, and... I don't want that. I-I'm sorry for what I did. I'm s-sorry for making you sleep with me." Your eyes were stuck on him. You watched him and tried to gauge his reaction - afraid of what was going to happen.

"Yer sorry 'bout it?" Daryl asked then - almost in disbelief. Then he scoffed. "Do ya regret it?"

That was a question you didn't see coming. A question you haven't thought about yet. Did you regret it? Your memories took you back in time; letting you relive that night you shared with him. The answer was clear - as you quickly discovered.

"No, I don't, but... It was wrong. I shouldn't have-" "Wrong?" He interrupted you. His voice appalled. "Tha's what ya think 'bout this? 'Bout... us?" Daryl accused you with a grimace on his face. Was that... sadness you could detect in his blue orbs? Hurt?

You blinked; "U-Us?" were definitely confused by his words. "W-What do you mean 'us'?" "Ya know wha' I mean, Y/N." You shook your head. "No, Daryl. No, I don't. We've been practically ignoring each other since the CDC. We can't even talk properly! Neither of us can look into the other's eyes! Everything is just... weird, and you talk about an 'us'? No, I don't get it. Tell me. Explain it."

A frustrated huff left the archer's lips, before he started to gnaw at the pad of his thumb; averting your eyes. All of a sudden, the usually so confident redneck became all shy and insecure. "Dunno how," he started; merely shrugging his shoulders. "'S difficult, 'n I ain't good with words." "Try it, D," you encouraged him and gave him a soft smile. "Please. I want to make things right between us again." The archer nodded and took another moment - most likely to gather his thoughts. "'S tha' feeling, ya know? Can't pin it down. Always feelin' so strange whenever yer close to me."

Your heart skipped more than just one beat as his words urged to your ears. Could it be...? No...

"W-What do you feel? Can you... describe it?" Daryl lowered his gaze to the ground. The little stone laying beside his left foot suddenly became really interesting. "Jus' strange. Gets harder to breathe, 'n... My stomach's all messed up. Feels like an itch I can't scratch." You couldn't believe this was happening. Did that night cause Daryl to fall in love with you? "You're doing good, D. Keep going. What else?" You had to know.

He grunted; his foot playing with that little stone, before kicking it aimlessly over the concrete ground. "I... always go back to tha' night in my head. Can't forget it. Yer look. Yer touch. The way ya felt, I-" He stopped himself to take a deep breath. And you smiled. Perhaps having slept with him hadn't been a mistake. Perhaps you interpreted his behaviour wrong. Perhaps you just misread the signs...

"I jus' dunno how to act 'round ya. I dunno wha's happening to me. Tha's why I ain't talkin' to ya. Didn't mean to ignore ya..." Daryl apologised with his head still lowered.

You stepped closer to him and cautiously reached for his hand. He flinched, but didn't pull away. "Daryl, I... I think I know what happened to you," you whispered. "'N wha's tha'?" He asked; finally brave enough to lift his head to look into your eyes. You smiled and squeezed his hand. "I think you... are in love."

As quick as the man had lowered his guard, as quick was it up again.

He pulled his hand out of your grasp and scoffed, before he took a few steps back. "Pf. Love? Me? Tha's ridiculous, woman - 'n we both know it!" "Is it, yeah? You really think so?" "Yes!" He yelled, and wanted to rush past you - but you stopped him with your palm splayed on his chest. You didn't know if what your heart made you do was a wise decision, but it acted on its own will. Your head was powerless anyway.

Daryl's eyes travelled from yours to the hand on his chest and back. "Whatcha doin', woman?! Leave me the hell alo-" You had heard enough. You had held yourself back long enough. This was the only option you had left. It was do or die.

You cut the man off with standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips to his. It was a chaste, gentle kiss - but nonetheless meaningful. It felt so right. So good. His lips so soft and warm - compared to his seemingly rough exterior. His blond-brown goatee tickled your skin in the best way possible.

Once more, Daryl froze to the ground; not moving a muscle.

When your lips left his again with a soft pop and you reopened your eyes, you could see how his eyelids fluttered slowly open as well. You could feel his heart galloping underneath your palm. "What do you feel now, Daryl?" You asked in a hushed tone. Your eyes never left his. The archer swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "I-I-I..." He stammered out; his cheeks heating up. "G-Good," he croaked out. "R-Real good." You smiled - happy that your heart had made the right decision. "Wanna do it again?" He blinked. The tips of his ears got red as well. "I-If yer willin' t-to k-kiss me again?" Your smile even widened, before you reached up to cup his beardy, red cheeks in your palms to pull him into another kiss. Daryl gasped against your lips; eyes falling shut and lips following your lead. It caused the kiss to get more intimate. More demanding. More passionate.

His hands acted on their own will, as they settled on your waist and pulled you closer. Your body crashed against his. You could tell that he hadn't kissed a lot in his life; his movements clumsy and messy - but perfectly Daryl. And you loved it. You didn't care how experienced or skilled he was. All you cared about was him - and all the love he deserved you wanted to give him.

He was far from perfect; had his flaws - but so were you.

"What do you say now about love, pretty boy?" You asked in a playful, yet loving manner; your hands crossed behind his neck. Daryl's hands gently squeezed your sides, "Shuddup." before he dipped his head to indulge you into yet another kiss.

Yeah... He was definitely whipped.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @dixonsdarkelf @huntedmusicgardenn @ffsjustletmesleep

[8-evil-annoying-catboys]

fun fact: experienced witches who practice it know that any form of divination is more or less just self-reflection. no matter how much you believe in supernatural stuff or don’t, if you identify yourself as a witch and youre skilled at the practice of divination, you know not to ask foolish questions like “will i get this job” or “who will i marry,” regardless of your preferred form of divination. you ask questions like “what should i do to get this job” to ur tarot deck, or “should i pursue this person i like romantically” to your pendulum. the idea is that you already know the answer, even if you don’t know that you know.

so, with a pendulum (which isn’t my preferred method personally but plenty of witches love it), you know already if that person is bad for you, and your subconscious moves the pendulum to swing to tell you no, you shouldn’t pursue them, bc you already know you’re gonna get hurt. with tarot (which IS my preferred method), the cards all have many meanings but your immediate feeling when you look at them is more important than any pre-assigned meaning (bc it reflects what you already intuitively know).

that’s why a good fortune-teller reads for themselves, and if they do it as a job, skilled readers don’t take questions for concrete answers about the future and they seek to learn about the problem at hand before a reading. but tbh it’s always better to practice divination for yourself rather than paying someone else, bc divination is a tool to seek advice from the universe but also from yourself, bc the answers are already within you.

so basically, a skilled diviner who uses pendulums, actually uses the ideomotor effect to seek clarity on things they know subconsciously, but not on a conscious level. an unskilled witch using a pendulum, uses the ideomotor effect to get the answer they want to hear to the question, “will this work out?”

in short, yes, a pendulum is just the ideomotor effect in action, ‘specially if you don’t believe in all the hippie dippie crap that i believe in, but even i can admit that there is a lot of psychological components to it that some witches don’t acknowledge bc it doesn’t fit in with their belief system. however, believing in magic isn’t a requirement to be a skilled fortune-teller. you can use a pendulum with the full knowledge of the ideomotor effect and you can believe that nothing other than your subconscious is guiding your pendulum, and still get something out of it—as long as you know the right kinds of questions to ask yourself. of course you don’t know if you’ll marry the person you’re pining for right now, but you might know if you should actually avoid them like the plague because despite how attracted you are to them, you know that they’re actually kind of cruel with a veneer of charm covering that up.

tbh this is exactly what i love about divination, bc i’m very intuitive but don’t always trust myself when i’m not using my cards, or tea leaves, or a mirror to throw my own thoughts back at me. it allows you to interpret that which you already know as information from the universe or a deity or whatever you need to believe is saying this stuff to you, so that you’ll trust yourself. it’s a great way, for me at least, to train myself to listen to my intuition, and to learn the difference between my intuition and my anxiety (bc it’s hard to explain to people who don’t practice divination, but the voice of my intuition is distinct from the voice of my anxiety—they sound very similar bc they’re both a part of me, but after a lot of practice i can mostly tell which is which)

When I was a kid I had a book of like, "fun physics experiments for kids". And one of them was an "experiment" where you hold an object by a string and just by focusing on the direction you wanted it to swing, it would start to move in that direction even without your input. The book of course explained that this was the ideomotor effect, a phenomenon where your thoughts can create minute, unconscious movements in your body.

Then a couple years later I got a fortune-telling kit that included a pendulum. You hold the pendulum over a piece of paper that says "yes" and "no" and ask a question, and whichever way the pendulum moves is the answer.

At which point I was like "hey WAIT a minute", and in hindsight I think that experience explains most things about who I am as a person

[linkcharacter]

Love the difference from how Jimmy rejects the pills aggressively while it’s implied in canon Curly just tries to keep his mouth closed rather than hurt anyone. I also love how Curly thanks Jimmy for letting him help vs Jimmy complaining that he had to in canon despite never really being an asked more than once and talks down to Curly.

It’s an interesting difference in how they both take the duty from Anya where Curly is def trying to salivate her of having to take care of Jimmy due to every pre-crash and the guilt but also because that is his friend still. Just comparing it to Jimmy who only does it cause he needs to feel useful and asserting himself as more capable than Anya.

I know you likely wanna keep it vague or open to interpretation but since Curly acknowledged the pills aren’t doing much for Jimmy do you think he’s genuinely doing it just cause it does something even if little for Jimmy or to ease his mind? Sort of like how the crew mainly gives Curly his pills to keep him quiet and more so how Jimmy does it cause Curly’s sobs def mess with his crippling repressed feelings of guilt.

Very interesting how it differs. Also love how you still didn’t show the actual feeding of the pill

Oh yes the differences :) The whole time I was making the comic the 2nd audio of Jimmy feeding Curly the pills kept spinning in my brain. And yes, I didn't show the actual pill feeding, the game doesn't show it visually, so I didn't think there was a reason to do it here.

You are correct, I would like to keep it vague. It's interesting how you interpreted Curly's comment on the pills as just him thinking they aren't doing much for Jimmy, and I'm not saying it's wrong, but I see (and put) a couple of different meanings for his thoughts' text, all of which are valid, this one included.

As to why Curly gives him the pills, I'd say it can be both reasons at once. Curly does want to help, but he also wants to feel like he's helping. The thing about Curly is that he prioritizes doing what his own sense of righteousness dictates as doing the right thing, whether or not it's a smart or a helpful decision or not. Like how he decided to tell the crew about them losing their jobs. It wasn't a smart nor a productive decision, all it did was make the crew stressed and brought the morale down for the rest of the 8 months they were supposed to haul. But it was what Curly saw as 'what a good person would do', 'what a friend would do', that he "can't keep this form them all" because it gnawed on his conscience. He didn't consider consequences of telling upsetting news to his crew, or if he did, they didn't outweigh the importance to do right by his crew to Curly. To him it was the 'less scummy' way to go about it, the one that didn't leave Curly feeling like a bad person for "deceiving" his friends. But he means well at the end of the day too, he doesn't want his friends to feel betrayed, feel like they've been kept in the dark. He doesn't want to use his special treatment as a Captain while his subordinates are worse off than him.

And here with Jimmy, Curly wants to do his best to ease whatever pain his friend is in, but he also doesn't want to force him into anything because that would make Curly feel like he's undermining Jimmy's autonomy, whether or not Jimmy by himself would make a decision on medical treatment that was 'best for him', and whether or not the pills do jack shit at all. Curly tries to do good by everyone, because he genuinely wants to help and because he feels that doing a helpful thing is what he 'should' do. Curly's a complicated guy and it all comes down to what you personally consider as 'genuine want to help' and whether or not, to you, the actions a person takes matter more than the intentions behind them.

Thank you for your comments, as always very discussion engaging, I love it!!

[avelera]

My own interpretation of the Hexcore is that, while it was manipulating Viktor, it also never controlled him directly. It brought out the darkest parts of his nature, all the unpleasant thoughts and the parts of himself even he was unaware of, and pushed him to embrace them-but it never forced him to do anything. (Theoretically, he could have stopped wha he was doing at any time-but consciously or not, he didn't want to stop.)

True, he probably wouldn't have done those things without the Hexcore (I say "probably" because League Viktor exists), but he still chose to do those things.

(I'm just a huge fan of the "Not quite Mind Control" trope, and I think this approach adds some interesting angles to Viktor's character.)

Yeah I think "not quite mind control" is closer to what we see on screen. That's why I enjoyed the comparisons to the One Ring that came later in the discussion.

In my opinion, the Hexcore like the One Ring in "Lord of the Rings", or the gonne in Pratchett's "Men at Arms", represents power. Boromir on his own would probably not have tried to steal the Ring from Frodo, but he was still the one who chose to do so. Where is the line between manipulation and influence and outright control? If you wouldn't have made those choices without their influence, but you still made the choice, how much of it is you?

This actually taps in a bit to a meta that I've been circling that the Hexcore/Sky as the face of the Hexcore is to Viktor in S2 what Mel was to Jayce in S1. Jayce chose to take part in corruption in order to protect himself and what he cared about, but he still chose to do it. Insofar as people blame Jayce for getting dragged away from the lab and his shared dream with Viktor in favor of Mel and politics, he did make all those decisions. But, he was also clearly outplayed and manipulated by a master of the craft. (As I've said elsewhere, leaving someone absolute freedom to choose the only option left to them is not actually freedom.)

I think the influence of the Hexcore is better understood as paralleling Mel's influence on Jayce, especially when you consider the face it used. Twice now we've seen mirroring instances of the "other woman" in Jayce or Viktor's life drawing them away from the partnership, from the lab, making them into public figures, making them adored by the masses, offering them power to make their dream a reality, and in both instances they choose to do so. In both instances, they might not have fully had a choice not to, either because of personal danger ("Your House is in trouble, Jayce.") or because of actual physical manipulation (the Hexcore is part of Viktor now, knit into the fabric of his body). But they still made the choices. It's not fully mind control that they'd be railing against if they could.

Or is it? What would mind control really look like? Since it doesn't exist in the real world, we have no parallel for being forced to do something you don't want to do by some sort of possessing force. Perhaps thinking it was your own choice, when you would have done something else if you could, is really as close as we can get to a real world version.

[welcome-to-green-hills]

Why do you think that Sonic lost his super ability while he and super shadow tried to stop the laser from hitting earth?

Hi Hon❤️✨

Honestly, this is an excellent question that could have a couple of different answers. I do, however, have my own possible answer.

The Eclipse Canon is powered by Shadow’s chaos ability. That’s Shadow’s power driven by anger and grief. As we know from the first movie that Sonic’s power is driven by emotion. Therefore, it would be wise to assume that this is the same case. Essentially, this is Shadow’s negative emotions that created the power.

After their conversation on the moon, Shadow and Sonic have a change of heart. They’re open to positive emotions now. They take their anger and ache and turn it into something stronger—positive energy and emotions.

Sonic passed out due to exhaustion, as well as an intake of that negative energy. For an individual that’s the embodiment of good, that is a lot for someone to hand. Shadow could handle it because that’s his grief. He’s been in that dark place and knows how to handle it now. He has seen the light again and is open to positive thoughts and feelings. Shadow had to be the one to end the Eclipse Canon and show it out of orbit because that’s him coming to peace with his grief. He’s ready to move on and in a better place to heal.

So yeah! This is my interpretation of the situation. And I must stress that this is my opinion. I hope that this is a good thought 😊❤️✨

[lvxiferianemblem]

Lvxi SMC character analysis (SMC isn't one dimensional)

As promised, I'm putting down all my thoughts regarding SMC, including general analysis and personal interpretation. This is just an amalgam of all my recent thoughts, but I'll do my best to make it as coherent as possible.

There's no such thing as 'evil for the sake of it.' Despite what most cartoon villains tell you, there will always be a reason for why someone does things, even if those reasons are as shallow as brief entertainment. In this case, however, I don't think SMC fits either of those bills.

Going back to the origin of SMC himself, we have to understand what exactly his story is trying to convey---or at least to the best of our ability.

It's common knowledge that before everything, the apostles of evil were embodiments of virtues, and SMC's virtue, in particular, was knowledge, before he spiraled into the power of 'deceit.' However, I think it's important that we look deeper into this and what his symbolism is trying to convey.

In the Beast Yeast storyline, we see that PV describes SMC as having lived an isolated path previous to becoming what he is now and that being the figure of truth is a damning one. His statue is regal and important, bearing the appearance of a monarch rather than anything like the jester we're familiar with, and it stands tall like an idol of worship.

This statue is old. And it's quite clear that within an amount of time, something drastic has occurred to SMC that caused him to make that shift, so the question is, what exactly was it? In CRK, we know that SMC essentially fell victim to corruption of sorts, and details around it are cloudy at best and vague at worst, but we have background information to assist with that.

As Dark Enchantress Cookie's story tells us, the heaviest burden that will drive one insane is the truth of everything and the knowledge of the purpose of their creation. SMC, being the apostle of knowledge and truth, would no doubt harbor this knowledge.

But how do you tell an entire society this truth? In a world where no one wants to hear you and nobody is willing to follow you in the first place, how do you convince them of something they don't want to hear? You beg and plead for them to listen, but they only call you a liar. They call you a deceiver and a traitor, and they turn their backs on you. So what else can you do but fulfill their wish?

After all, in the court, the jester is the only role that can mock the king without judgment, because no one takes him seriously.

SMC makes it very clear throughout his story that his values are not only his own and that they're more accurately a representation of other people as a whole. He says that people would 'much rather believe a sweet lie' and that the world operates on deceit. He does what he does not only because it's fun but also because that is the only way people will listen to him.

SMC is a liar and sweet talker, but he's also a performer and an entertainer. Everything he does is based on 'audience participation'. It's a social art.

Isolated by his own talents, SMC inevitably falls into corruption through a self-made spiral.

He sets the stage to sing truths hidden in sweetened lies, and his audience only watches to see him dance, but by god, they're finally looking at him, and everything feels less lonely.

As time goes on, SMC becomes a creature of habit and is no longer a last-resort performer. He no longer forces himself to don the mask of a fool to garner listeners, and instead, he cares only for shallow company to fill the void of isolation he is so desperate to always be free from. He loses himself to it and falls into corruption, becoming more and more willing to lie to others and himself just to keep a captive audience. It becomes about his emotional needs rather than his logical ones, and his power over others pushes him to go to further extremes to keep them close, becoming exceedingly cruel as a result.

Everything is easier if he lies. He doesn't have to think about the truth or the horrors of it, and everyone will love him if he does.

Throughout the story, everything SMC does screams LOOK AT ME, yet also insecurity and fear. He mocks people in deflection when he's panicked or confused, he gets extremely aggressive when people threaten his imprisonment again, and he demeans PV when talking about how he took his soul jam. Everything he does is an emotional reaction to what seems to be very deep-rooted fears.

Despite his confident persona, SMC is desperate for everything to go his way, and if they don't, he quickly unravels under it all. He needs to be seen, and he needs to be heard, or he might lose himself altogether.

In his story, he never even attempts to kill PV. Instead, he corrupts him to see the world as he does, desperate that the closest thing to him might understand what is now his own truth and that, in this twisted companionship, he will never truly be alone again.

Unlike the Ancients, the Beasts were not 'tested' for their power. They were created with expectations, not proof of function. They fail because of this.

You give a warrior a sword and they slay your enemies, give a child a sword and they slay everyone without caution or understanding.

Or maybe they're just cookies idk.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hi! I'm trying to get into writing twst fanfiction, but I'm having some trouble with keeping the boys in-character. What do you think are their base traits? Like, what's the foundation of their personalities?

Hello! I spent a long time debating about whether to respond to this ask or not. Ultimately, a lot of the thoughts I would include in my response are the same as what I have already expressed here. However, I've noticed that this has become sort of a recurring issue, so I'd like to address this more seriously.

I've recently been getting a lot of people requesting that I basically tell them how to write the Twst characters. Tens and tens of them, in fact (too many to include all in one post). Sometimes it's an ask like, "please list out strengths/weaknesses or a summary of their character traits", and sometimes it's more specific like, "here is a prompt I am working on; how do you think [character] would act in this situation?" I'm NOT comfortable with either type of ask and refuse to answer asks of this nature.

I want to be clear: this is NOT the same as asking for general writing advice; this is literally just asking to be spoon-fed the answers. There is a difference between seeking advice on how to overcome writer's block or asking what are techniques to show, don't tell (which is general writing advice) versus asking someone to specifically instruct them on how to write Leona Kingscholar from the hit Disney mobile game Twisted Wonderland. The former is okay with me, while the latter is not.

While I am flattered that people care about my opinion and hold it in high regard, I am not here to be a cheat sheet, and nor are my opinions the "most correct". There is no single "correct" way to write a character, and even if there was, it's certainly not mine. Only the Twst devs themselves are the "most correct", as whatever they produce is what ends up as canon.

As I have said in my previous post on this topic, having someone else tell you how to write does little to help you. Writing is a skill, and skills are not inherent. They are something you train in, practice, and learn. Looking at a bunch of adjectives will not help you write or understand the characters any better than you currently do. If anything, it just means you don’t develop or practice your critical analysis skills. In a worse-case scenario, it devalues what a writer does, as it places the burden on them to condense what they know into a laundry list of characterization--as if it doesn't take us tons of time to hone those writing skills. The only real way to get the results you want is to do your own research, develop your own interpretations, and practice, practice, practice. There is no magic pill or shortcut or streamlining or easy way to do it and come out with a quality result. You have to be willing to put in the time and the effort to learn a skill, and that extends to writing, be it for this fandom, another fandom, or even for non-fandom writing. Think about it like this: when you're writing a good research paper, do you go and ask a single other source to gather all your data and summarize it for you? Of course not. You have to go out and manually collect the resources, do the reading, take notes, and gain an understanding of those resources. Then you use your newfound knowledge to summarize and to synthesize your own conclusions in your research paper. The same logic applies for writing in fandom.

I'm not sure why there is this sudden interest in shortcuts. Is it social media shortening our attention spans? Is it the rise of A.I. like ChatGPT making people more reliant on and more comfortable with summaries? Is it that people are concerned with nailing characterization or instant success the first time around? Is it that the internet's so much crueler with comments + feedback that we want to avoid OOC-ness as much as possible? Is it that I just so happen to like talking about character analysis so people think I must know everything? It could be any of these reasons or a combination of them--but whatever the reasoning is, it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth. It's concerning to me that it seems like people are becoming less and less interested in thinking for themselves and instead are increasingly reliant on others telling them how to create. You NEED to fail and get stuff wrong. You NEED to be able to have the courage to try things on your own. Don't be afraid of failure--failure isn't inherently a bad thing, it is how we learn, grow, and shape our own styles and ways of thinking! I definitely was not perfect when I first started out. I had to fail and stumble and struggle to get my craft to where it is today. So did every single one of your favorite creators. Artists had stick figures, writers had their first words. No artist or writer started off making masterpieces. Arguably, they still don't. Every creator is continuously learning and trying to improve their craft. It's not as though they hit perfection one day and decided to stay stagnant. I feel that it devalues what we make when we try to boil down all the skill we've developed into easy "answer keys" for others to digest. Again, you can ask all you want and seek out as many shortcuts as you like, but that's not going to be properly absorbed into your brain unless you walk the walk for yourself. You can't assume that learning these things will be as easy as reading a summary, memorizing a tutorial, figuring out what brush someone uses, etc.--it wasn't for the people you're asking for this advice from either. Failing is normal and expected. You will also never be able to create something that pleases everyone or something that everyone agrees with--so instead of trying to appeal to an unseen audience, please focus on creating what makes you happy. You have your own creative journeys ahead of you, so don't be scared to walk that road! It can be tough and you'll hit roadblocks and challenges--but overcome them, and you'll become even stronger and more skilled than you were before.

Best of luck!

[lucagray813]

Knock 'Em Dead - Epilogue

Rating: T

Word Count: 3,800

Characters: Wukong, Macaque

Relationships: Wukong & Macaque (Could be interpreted as Shadowpeach)

Summary: Wukong and Macaque have a heart to heart. It goes about as well as you might expect.

CW: Alcohol, swearing, references to MCD and violence

Link to AO3 Version

Chapter Navigation: First | Prev

----

The cellar door was open and, combined with that gift of a glass of wine, it felt like an invitation. An invitation to what he didn't actually know but there was no turning back now. Macaque would have heard the moment he started heading in this direction - walking away would have him branded as a coward or worse.

He walked in to find Macaque lounging in a setup that definitely wasn't usually here - two comfortable looking chairs with a small table between them hosting a bottle of peach wine and an empty wine glass.

Macaque acknowledged him with a raise of the glass in his hand and a nod towards the empty chair.

He cautiously made his way over and picked up the open wine bottle before frowning slightly at it, "How much have you had?"

Macaque shrugged, "Like half a bottle."

Wukong poured the last of the wine and raised an eyebrow at him when it only filled half the glass.

Macaque just rolled his eyes and pulled a new bottle from the small collection on the floor. Shadows easily removed the cork before he handed the bottle over to him, "Thought I'd wait and see if I was getting a drinking buddy before going all out."

Drinking themselves to oblivion did sound far better than a sober, dire attempt to talk about what had just happened so he topped up his glass, drained it and then refilled it before putting the bottle down.

It was Macaque's turn to raise an eyebrow but he thankfully said nothing as Wukong took his seat, wine in hand, trying to determine how brave he felt.

He sighed heavily before asking, "Why'd you tell MK?"

Macaque shrugged, "He asked."

He scowled, "Cut the shit, Macaque. You don't do anything unless it benefits you so why'd you do it? What are you getting out of this?"

Macaque's eyes flashed dangerously for a moment but he clearly made a conscious decision to bite back whatever vitriol he wanted to spit and instead laughed cruelly, "You know, Wukong, I've read that little book of yours, the story of how you came to be China's darling and, I get it, a life as long as yours isn't easy to summarise - you've got to focus on what's important, right? But could you imagine my surprise when I realised that I didn't fall into that category? That I wasn't important enough to be so much as mentioned in the story of your life?"

Adamantly, he denied, "That's not why you're not in the book! I- You-"

As he struggled to get the words past his teeth, Macaque sneered, "Then what was it, Wukong? Did I just not fit in with your heroic narrative? Would my inclusion have made you look bad? Was that enough reason to let me be forgotten?"

"No! It wasn't like that! I didn't-!" He cut himself off with a frustrated sound before taking a steadying breath and trying again, "Look, I didn't write the book, ok? It was mostly based on Shā Wùjìng and my master's journals and on hearsay. You didn't get a mention because-"

He grit his teeth as he forced himself to admit, "When I got out from the mountain I was too angry to talk about you to anyone and then- and then after I couldn't bring myself to talk about you because I... I just couldn't, alright? The others had their own reasons for not wanting the world to know about what happened on the Journey. That's why you're not mentioned. Not because you weren't important. Macaque, you have to know how much I regret what happened that day, how much I've always regretted it."

He would never be able to put into words the neverending grief that he'd experienced after Macaque's death and unfortunately he hadn't drank nearly enough to even try, his wariness of the Macaque that existed in the present enough to stop him totally bearing his heart and soul.

Macaque's response was underwhelming. He just sighed, sat back in his chair and had another sip from his glass before commenting, "Yeah, I heard the sob story you fed MK. I suppose I should be honoured my death was a monumental enough occasion for the horse to be moved to take action - you know it must have been bad if Áo Liè actually felt compelled to do something."

Disbelief and anger made themselves known in his tone, "That's all you have to say? I'm trying to have a genuine conversation with you about what happened and your response is to insult my friend?"

Macaque continued to act unaffected, "Oh, I could say more, trust me. But what's the point? I already know how this "genuine conversation" is going to go."

That gave him a moment of pause, "... You Listened?"

Macaque had always been pretty reserved about using his Listening as it left him vulnerable for the duration he used it and his Future Hearing, in particular, wasn't one hundred percent foolproof. But that didn't mean he couldn't or wouldn't use it if he thought the payout was worth the risk.

Macaque scoffed, "As if I had time between talking to MK and listening to him interrogate you."

He still wasn't ruling out that Macaque had manipulated the situation somehow - he could have Listened well before talking to MK and orchestrated this whole thing - but he decided to take him at face value for the moment and see where that took this conversation.

Knowing Macaque though, probably nowhere good.

He crossed his arms, "Yeah, thanks for that. Nice of you to give yourself the upper hand - don't suppose you'd care to tell me exactly what you told MK?"

Macaque's grin was petty, "Sorry, only one show per day and you missed it. Such a shame. Though I'm not sure you would have been a fan."

No, he definitely wouldn't have been but if they were finally addressing what had happened then he wanted them to be on a level playing field.

With a frustrated sigh, he sat back, "I don't want to play these pointless games, Macaque. If we're talking about this, then let's talk about it."

Macaque regarded him for a long moment before quietly chuckling to himself and when he addressed him there was a slightly manic look in his eyes, "Alright then, Wukong, let's cut right to the chase, shall we? You regret what you did? Good. You should. But I don't regret what I did."

His voice came out as a hoarse whisper, "What?"

Macaque made a show of reconsidering, "No, wait, actually I do have a couple of regrets. Getting caught? Very disappointing oversight on my part. And the monk? What I wouldn't give to go back and make sure he suffered like he had truly deserved."

The wine glass in his hand never stood a chance but the shards of glass barely even registered as he slammed his hand down on the arm of the chair and gripped it as if it could hold him back from lunging forward, "For as long as he lived, he never fully recovered from what you did to him! He didn't deserve the torture you put him through!"

He didn't know exactly what Macaque had done to him, but he knew what he was capable of and just the thought of it was enough to have his nails digging into the arms of the chair, the whole thing threatening to crumble under his anguish and fury.

Macaque wasn't intimidated by his show of anger and drawled, "Well, that's a matter of perspective, isn't it? Would you like to hear what kind of person your master was from my perspective?"

He didn't but unfortunately he was going to have to if they wanted to make any progress and Macaque took his hostile silence for the go ahead it reluctantly was.

Macaque took a long drink before telling him with conviction, "Your master was a cold and indifferent man, that switched between viewing you as a burden and a tool at his disposal. He cared nothing about who or what you were and yet he expected you to obey him without question. He was a man undeserving of your love and devotion. And if that changed, it only changed because of my intervention."

He resisted the urge to lash out in response to his self-importance as well as his shallow understanding of the situation and his master's character. However wrong or hurtful Macaque's words though he knew he had to hear them through to the end, so through gritted teeth he bit out, "Explain."

Gesturing to his ears, Macaque responded, "Obviously, I couldn't Listen to every second of the years you spent with him before I found you that day, there could well have been fleeting moments of civility that you let yourself believe was something more that I missed but I Heard his disregard for you and I Heard how he punished you."

There was no denying that the earlier years with his master had been difficult and painful. Supposed opposites forced together, they struggled to understand one another and that led to more conflicts than he would care to admit but he didn't blame his master for not always listening to him or for being heavy-handed in his retaliation.

His master had been young and mortal and thrust into a perilous journey with a dangerous, morally grey and bad-tempered demon that could kill him in an instant. Could you blame him for being a little on edge or for being unsure of how best to handle every situation?

And while he had initially been the unwilling muscle for this operation, his master had always treated him as his student. And even if he'd had no idea how to be a teacher to someone like him, he, ultimately, had never given up on him.

Even in those early years, when quite frankly, Wukong had neither wanted to or believed there was any need to change his ways.

But he knew that sort of nuance meant nothing to Macaque, just as it meant nothing to himself at the time and how it would have meant nothing to him if he and Macaque's positions had been reversed.

He could hear the undercurrent of fury in Macaque's voice as he continued, "But even if I hadn't Heard all I had, the way you pathetically latched onto any hint that he actually cared about you when I was the one wearing his face would have been enough to seal his fate."

He wasn't ready to face that ugly truth just yet and so he took hold of the embers fanned by that statement and glowered, "You mean when you lied to me? When you manipulated me?"

Macaque laughed incredulously, "Oh, of course, how fucking vile of me to listen to you, to treat you as if you're feelings mattered! Not once did I ever even tell you that you were in the wrong! Or that you had to forgive me!"

Despite the truth of it, he still growled, "That doesn't make it right! And it doesn't change the fact that your ultimate plan was to get me out of the picture long enough for you to torture an innocent man for information he didn't have!"

Macaque's eyes were filled with venom, "And whose fault was that, Wukong? Did you really fucking expect me to just go home, to sit patiently and wait for you? After everything I'd Heard? After all the time you'd already been gone? What choice did you give me but to take matters into my own hands?"

He knew now that it had been stupid to believe that Macaque would ever have listened to him back then. And even half-crazed from his time under the mountain, he should have known that.

And moreso, if he put himself in the mindset of pre-Journey Wukong and thought about Macaque's actions then they were entirely justifiable. Maybe a touch crueler and calculated than he personally would have gone with but hey, everyone had their own style.

That sort of violence was normal, especially against an outsider who had wronged you and your own. It wasn't considered bad and it wasn't considered wrong.

He obviously knew better now but it had been a lesson hard earned, and one that required a fourteen year journey, with a dedicated teacher at that. But both then and, arguably, now Macaque hadn't been given that same chance to grow or learn the error of his ways. Could he truly blame him for what he'd done?

And as twisted and terrible as what Macaque had done was, Wukong couldn't ignore the fact that he'd done it out of love and loyalty.

And when he'd responded in kind, with the single minded desire to avenge his master, he'd declared to the world that those feelings weren't returned.

That they belonged to another.

And the worst thing was, that he had meant it.

All the fight left him, and shakily he responded, "You're right... You responded how any demon would have. How I would've. How I did."

He desperately wanted to tell him that he hadn't meant for things to end the way they had, to go as far as he did, but the truth was Macaque had been dead the moment Wukong had seen what he'd done to his master.

Regret didn't feel a strong enough word for how he'd felt afterwards but Macaque's death had been no accident.

He took a breath before offering, "Look, there's not a single thing I don't regret about what happened. Our reunion after the mountain, how I- how I responded to what you'd done. I understand why you did what you did, that doesn't make it right but... I can understand why you don't regret it and I... I don't blame you for that."

Macaque sneered at his sincerity, "Oh, you understand, do you? You understand what it is to dedicate your life to someone and be told it's not enough? You understand how it feels to have the person you love most only return those feelings when you're wearing the face of the human who abused him?"

Macaque was on his feet, the glass that had been in his hand now shattered on the ground. His eyes glowed violet as he lunged forward and dug his nails into the arms of Wukong's chair, "You know what it's like to spend centuries suffering in the Dìyù? You know what it's like to crawl out of your grave with a gaping hole in your skull? Do you!?"

His stomach turned at the gruesome imagery.

Beyond the fact that the Lady Bone Demon had been involved he knew nothing about how Macaque had been resurrected. He should have known that twisted witch would have made it as agonising a process as possible.

He fought to keep control of his expression however, even without the alcohol, there was no telling what would make the situation worse and Macaque's teeth were already dangerously close to his face.

He was sure the undercurrent of turbulent emotion could be heard as he quietly responded though, "No. Of course, I don't."

Macaque's eyes flicked over his face, his breath coming out in unsteady bursts before he let out a gutteral growl and raised a fist that went right through the back of the chair, deliberately missing Wukong's face.

Wukong could only watch as he turned away, his tail thrashing furiously behind him.

He knew that the true depths of Macaque's suffering would always be beyond his comprehension. In the same way that no words could ever communicate the maddening agony of his isolation under the mountain, he knew that no matter how willing he was to listen, he would never truly understand all that Macaque had been through.

Despite that, there was an overwhelming urge to do the impossible and somehow make amends, to somehow make all of this right.

Macaque stood with his back to him and with a wavering voice said, "You didn't even bring me home."

Sick with shame, he still tried to explain, "I was going to! Your magic- I couldn't move you until it- I promise you, I was going to bring you home. But the- the Lady Bone Demon got to you first and I-"

"When?"

"What?"

Through gritted teeth he heard Macaque clarify, "When were you planning to bring me home? When was the last time you even went to visit my grave?"

He swallowed thickly, his tongue felt like lead and the ensuing silence said it all.

Macaque's laugh was a bitter, tortured thing, "I really didn't mean anything to you, did I?"

Wukong hunched over himself, his forehead leaning against clasped hands, "Macaque, I didn't..."

Macaque turned around sharply, "Didn't what, Wukong? Didn't think you'd ever have to see me again? Didn't think you'd have to face up to what you'd done?"

Of course, he hadn't thought he'd ever see Macaque again. Of course, he'd never thought he'd ever be in this situation.

While his guilt had seen him haunted by visions of Macaque, he'd never believed he would actually rise from the dead. Wished for it, on occasion, maybe but had never conceived an enemy of his could, or would, go to such lengths to torture him.

And yet, still he responded emphatically, "No! I- I mean I didn't mean to leave you there! Or to go so long between visits. It just... hurt to be there. To remember what happened."

Macaque's grin was unhinged, "And that's excellent why I'm here now, Wukong! To make sure you never forget, to make sure you never know peace for what you did!"

A part of him believed that it was no less than he deserved.

But he hadn't forgotten his master's teachings, or his responsibility to MK, and he knew that drowning in self-loathing and guilt would benefit no-one.

And even if he did accept such a punishment - what kind of life was that for Macaque? Consumed by hatred and pain and obsession? He deserved better than that. At the very least, he deserved the same opportunity he'd had to change and grow.

He was no more irredeemable than Wukong had been, of that he was sure.

In fact, he'd already seen the signs that he was capable of better.

He couldn't fully rule out that Macaque was playing some sort of long game but he'd gone above and beyond during the calamity involving Azure and they'd been cohabiting the island with relative civility for months since. They'd even successfully collaborated on MK's training recently.

He wanted that to mean something.

He didn't dare hope for a relationship of any kind to be rekindled from the ashes but they could have some semblance of peace if they both wanted it, if they both dedicated themselves to achieving it.

But peace was clearly the last thing on Macaque's mind right now. The alcohol no doubt adding fuel to the agonising fire that always burned within him.

Now wasn't the right time to tell Macaque that he wanted to help him work through this. There might never be a right time to tell him that to be honest - he could already envision the offence taken at suggesting he could "fix" him.

So, taking a steadying breath, he responded, "I can't ever expect to be forgiven for how I wronged you but I won't run from the consequences. I deserve to know the full extent of the suffering I caused you and you're right, I deserve to never forget it."

In hindsight, there was no way this evening ended well, no matter what he'd said just now, but still he was caught off guard by Macaque's furious scream as he brought a shelf full of bottles crashing to the floor.

He sat frozen as Macaque viciously spat, "You're so fucking pathetic! The old you, the real you, wouldn't just roll over and let someone else tell him what he deserved! He would have killed anyone that fucking dared! He never would have just sat there and accepted his fate!"

It wasn't the first time Macaque had brought up the "real" him and he was sure it wouldn't be the last.

He resolved himself as he stood up, and Macaque's suddenly wary expression at the action spoke volumes. Firmly, he retaliated, "Is that really what you want? The "old" me? The one that never listened to you? The one that responded to everything he didn't like with violence?"

Macaque took a step back as he took a step forward, "You want me to be the me that didn't hesitate to kill the only person that had loved him unconditionally? Because we both know how that will end."

He held Macaque's gaze unflinchingly until the terror he was met with became too much for him.

His expression softened, "But I'm not that person anymore, Macaque. I'll never be him again. I'm going to listen to you. I'm going to treat you with the regard you deserve. And the only reason I would ever cross that line again was because I was given no other choice."

He wished he could promise that he would never be the one to cut his second life short but if it was a choice between him and MK...

Then he would do what he had to.

Macaque seemed to find his reassurance just as terrifying as his reminder of what he'd once been capable of and Wukong wasn't at all surprised that he sank through a shadow portal seconds later and fled.

He stood for a moment and stared at the spot Macaque had been before sighing and rubbing at the back of his neck.

Well, that could have gone worse...?

They hadn't devolved into violence, at least.

He looked around at the mess on the floor and the damage to the chair he'd been sitting on.

Well, mostly anyway.

Normally, he would have a clone tidy it all up but the weight of everything that had happened had him rolling up his sleeves with little complaint.

He didn't doubt that this had been only the first in a long line of difficult and messy conversations that would be needed to try and move past everything that had happened. And he knew he was going to need every scrap of wisdom, patience and tact he possessed if he wanted to help Macaque find a semblance of peace.

But right now, he willed himself to focus only on cleaning up the mess right in front of him, to allow his heart and soul a moment of respite before they were overwhelmed with the grief and guilt of everything he had learnt.

--End--

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LMK Fanfic Masterlist

[nordicfiord]

Do you have any other dynamics between the voices that you like,besides Cold and Contrarian?

Love your art,by the way,especially Contrarian!I love how soft and puffy he looks!

Ohhh, thanks for the question! And thanks for the kind words!! Have another Contrarian – he is pretty sure his friendship with anyone would be good!

it also would consist of bullying half the time but if everyone is content that it can lead to some of the best friendships out there!

And now… IT’S RUMBLING TIME!!

tldr: I am semi-interested in most dynamics, but am currently obsessed with just one. Crossovers and AUs make dynamics more fun for me to think about because of backgrounds.

So! Voices, huh? What a wild bunch.

I love those little guys. I love that mostly here at the stp fandom we are just interpreting them through our own lenses of understanding – through our own perspectives. It is very fitting, and it allows all of us to view these dynamics in many, many different situations.

Honestly, my brain is a mess. It is a giant cauldron, where everything at once is boiling and twisting and turning. That’s why everything is mixing up into lots of crossovers and weird ideas. 

Can I say that I like voices dynamics in canon? Sure! I like that one Adv-Fury route with Stubborn and Contrarian having the “I may not have a brain, gentlemen, but I have an idea” moment. I like that Hero tried to stand up for us in Cage and Paranoid helped Skeptic to insist on his solution by “physically” restraining him?? What a power move. Pretty much every interaction between voices is something interesting to think about, honestly.

But, uhh…

My brain just chose two random clowns and said “Them. I wanna rotate them.”

Honestly I don’t even know why he (my brain) did it. Maybe he just projected my favourite dynamic (clown and clown enabler). But I like other dynamics too??? Why not them???

Genuinely don’t know.

BUT!

Remember I talked about AUs, crossovers and stuff? Those are bigger dollhouses for my brain. There he can assign some dynamics to characters and watch them unfold.

Examples? Sure!

Skeptic being “the mom friend”. Originally it went from the need to have anyone that could control ContraColdChaos. But when I thought about putting voices in my old Steven Universe AU (I will talk about it here I swear it is just too much to unpack….), it all just made so much more sense. Because there Skeptic was the one responsible for revolution and leaving their home world, ended up on an unknown planet with some very troubled teammates (traumatised disabled leader, “I-died-so-many-times-I-can’t-be-stable” general, repeated killer of said general, army refugee and a high-quality spy) and he HAD to take responsibility and make sure nobody dies. Also that created a very interesting dynamic with Hero, because Hero is basically a young abused ruler who doesn’t believe he has any autonomy… and here Skeptic is, his subordinate, who literally is making all the decisions. Like, it’s clear that Skeptic cares and wants the best for Hero… but he is pretty much adding to a family emotional neglect.

And there’s more. Opportunist feeling like he owes Smitten for saving his life. Cold and Skeptic trying to process that they’ve killed and revived the very same person. Smitten being this person and trying to live a normal life with his murderer and resurrector in the same home.

I guess I just… Can’t operate inside of the canon universe with the little outside influence there is?

Maybe in my head-universe, when TLQ left, he left the voices a big fun playground, where they can put various masks and play many, many different stories. They need something to occupy their “forever” too, after all.

Anyway thanks if you’ve read this far!! I appreciate it, really. Sorry if it’s not uhh… organized? Like I said, my mind really is a mess, haha.

Have a nice day everyday!~

[yuriko-44]

symbol of fear: main bnha dr !!

This is my main bnha dr!! I consider this to be a pretty personal desired reality because of the reasons I want to shift here.

This is probably the most intense reality I'm shifting to. In fact I've thought about it for literally 2 years before deciding to start scripting. This is the dr I'll talk about the most in my blog, so keep this in mind!!

The reason why I decided to start this blog, aside from helping me and hopefully others with motivation, was because I really wanted to talk about this dr. I needed a place where I could talk about it freely, but my notes app wasn't really doing it for me. So here I am!! And also who knows, maybe I'll find someone with a similar dr too!!

before reading: why do I want to shift to this dr? Where do I begin? Well, I absolutely hate this reality. Everything is going to shit and I really want out of here, plus I really don't like myself- but this could apply to my wr and other drs as well. So why this one in particular? In 2019, while I was making my first ever script, I immediately thought about a flawless world. Then, in 2020, I went on a 4 year shifting break. After two years, in 2022, I wasn't done with my break but I was trying to pick up shifting again. That's when I looked back at my script. Coming from an extremely flawed reality, the idea of shifting to that perfect world seemed…underwhelming. I'd feel like a coward, hiding away in a perfect world instead of fighting for a better life- I know there's nothing wrong with it, in fact my wr is some kind of perfect world, but it wouldn't be as gratifying as I'd like it to be. I absolutely hate the society I live in and I feel completely useless here. I want to go to a reality in which I serve a purpose and things actually get better. That would be a satisfying reality to go to.

So this is basically what this dr is about. A reality in which I serve a purpose, a reality in which actual justice will be served, a reality in which society at large will learn and grow from its mistakes, a reality where everyone will feel heard and have a chance at life. A reality in which the world will change into something beautiful and life will begin to feel like it's worth living, like it should.

But why bnha? Because not only I've been hyperfixating on it for an extremely long time and I'm really attached to it, but also because justice and society are really important topics in canon, so I was really drawn to it when I decided to script and go to a reality such as this.

summary of contents:

my dr self • plot and main events • important people • miscellaneous

last update: january 25th 2025

← previous [main wr] || next [???] →

my dr self

If you read everything until now, you're either thinking that I'm a pro-hero/hero student or you're doubting that because of the name I gave to this dr and the picture of Shigaraki at the start of this post. Well, here's the most 'controversial' part of my dr:

In this reality I'm not a hero. I'm a morally ambiguous villain.

And if you happen to have seen the post about my wr you might be wondering why I didn't put a picture of my dr self at the beginning of the post like I did in the other one.

I actually did. That's me. In this dr I'm Shigaraki Tomura.

A morally ambiguous villain that, at least in my dr, ends up actually doing something amazing.

→ “Moral ambiguity: a lack of certainty about whether something is right or wrong”

→ “Morally ambiguous refers to situations, characters, or actions that do not have clear ethical implications and can be interpreted in multiple ways.”

→ “Morally ambiguous characters can start off with good intentions and then be driven to evil by others or by society, or they can start off evil and come to redeem themselves. Alternatively, they can remain ambiguous and complex throughout the whole narrative, and leave the reader to make up their own mind about them.”

This is the most difficult part to explain about my dr, but I'm going to try my best to make it understandable:

I always find myself relating to Shigaraki in one way or another. If you knew me in real life, I'm sure you could kinda see the similarities.

When I first started to script this dr I tried countless times to basically make an original character to insert myself into the bnha universe. But it'd always, and I mean always, end up being really similar to Shigaraki, like some kind of bad rip-off- it was just uncanny, really. I'm one of those people who whenever they start hyperfixating on a series they attach themselves to one character...so this kinda explains it- but that aside, as I already said, I relate to Shigaraki, a lot. I'm genuinely not surprised I couldn't come up with something original in this case.

And then it just kinda…made sense- it made more sense for me to shift to a reality in which I'm him instead of trying to insert myself into the bnha universe being a cheap copy of him.

I really don't know how else to explain it, but it just feels right for me.

So yeah…Shigaraki Tomura from the Shigaraki Tomura series-

I don't have anything to say about my dr self, really. He's Shigaraki Tomura, that's it basically- according to my interpretation of the character, that is!!

plot and main events

When I first shift to this reality it'll be the 4th of April 2124, my 19th birthday. I'm still confused on when bnha is set canonically, I keep hearing it's in the present or an hypothetical future, so I picked future. In 2124 the class 1A students are going through their last year of middle school and in 2125 they'll be in the first year of UA and I'll turn 20. I decided to shift a year before canon events to kinda get used to a new reality- I know that once I get there it'll feel absolutely normal, because it is, but I'll do that anyway. Also because I don't want to shift and immediately be forced into utter chaos…and because I want to spend time with Kurogiri without worrying too much about being caught!! (since after the USJ Attack the public will know the LOV is a thing)- for context: he's not 100% like he is in canon, go to the "important people" section for more info!!

Everything will be like canon bnha, but there are some changes. For example the War Arc is almost completely different, consequently the Post-War is not even close to canon. The war will start like canon, but there will be no hero or villain deaths. After the war society will begin to change (in a good way) and me, the LOV and people like us will finally be able to actually have a chance at life. Does this mean there's zero criminal/villain activity? No, but it'll be significantly reduced and will be dealt with way better than it was before. There are other changes, but those aren't as important as the ones I already mentioned.

Another thing I feel like I have to mention is the fact that, as I said earlier, I'm an ambiguous villain who commits ambiguous actions. Although more than half of everything I do is not my fault (All For One), that doesn't mean that I won't be responsible for at least some of those actions. I'll be accountable for the acts that are exclusively my fault (so there's no proof of them deriving from All For One's influence- or maybe I just straight up admit it), but not for the ones that derive from All For One's manipulation and grooming. But neither me or anyone in the LOV will be given life in prison or a death sentence. We'll spend a lot of time in the hospital, unsurprisingly to absolutely no one- but not just any hospital, it'll be like a prison's hospital, so regular civilians aren't treated in the same building as us. After that we won't be immediately free, we'll probably be staying…somewhere under surveillance- I don't know- and then we'll be under probation and then finally we'll be completely free!! Is it realistic? Probably not for this reality, but that reality is different and society will undergo a massive change too, so it makes sense to me.

...also after all of this I'll be spending my life with the LOV and my s/o- me when I can find love as a ex-criminal in another reality and I can't pull anyone in the cr: 🤡

Once I shift to this dr I'll forget about what I've scripted and the plot (only when I'm in this dr- so when I'm in my wr or any other dr I'll remember everything)- EXCEPT: I shifted, I can't and won't die, I can't get traumatised in any way, it's going to end well, other safety things like that.

important people

I absolutely love everyone in the LOV, but I'm not going to talk about everyone or this would be an endless post. I'll talk about three people for now: the first is basically a family member, the second one is my future s/o (we'll be together after the war) and I can't wait for the third's slow and painful death.

Kurogiri !!

In my dr, Kurogiri isn't 100% like in canon, but he isn't too different either. In canon he basically lacks a mind of his own, bound to listen and obey All For One's commands and whatnot. He's a highly intelligent nomou, but that's just so he can better assist All For One and all. In my dr there's still a trace of that, but he's quite different.

In the early phases of 'testing', so not too long after he was created, a certain event took place that influenced his 'programming'. He began to progressively act less and less like some kind of machine and instead acted more like a normal person. But never in front of All For One (and heroes once canon events will begin in my dr). Not only because he wasn't completely independent and still couldn't disobey him, but also because there could've been consequences (he could've been 'reprogrammed', losing the progress he's made, or worse). All For One would've probably done something about it, but he noticed this once it was way too late.

Canonically Shigaraki has been staying with All For One since he was 5 and he's now 20, in my dr it's no different. And Shirakumo was killed when he was in his second year of UA, so he was probably around 17. If you consider Eraserhead's age, since they were in the same year, then this would make Kurogiri 30 years old, his age in my dr. If you do a little bit of math: when Kurogiri was killed at 17, I (and canon Shigaraki too) was 7, I was already with All For One. In my dr it didn't take too long to make Shirakumo into Kurogiri, it took around a year. We met when I was 8 and he was 18. So we've known each other for a really long time.

After the event that changed Kurogiri's programming, we began to properly bond. All For One couldn't just change or get rid of him, losing Kurogiri would have affected me greatly. That could've impacted his plans for me. So as long as Kurogiri 'doesn't do anything funny' he's free to stay the way he is. Little does All For One know that he'll continue to get more and more independent until, after the war, he'll be truly free to be himself.

We bonded especially when I was around 14, when All For One died to All Might (and then got revived by Garaki). Since All For One wasn't in the way, Kurogiri had a little bit more freedom and that was absolutely amazing!!

He's my older brother. The best older brother there is.

He took care of me, he taught me stuff, he gave me company, he listened to me, he made me feel better whenever I felt miserable and so much more. And he still does. He, alongside the LOV, is the main reason why I'm so determined to shift to this reality.

I've never shifted there before but I miss him greatly.

Spinner !!

I don't have a lot to say about Spinner actually. He'll be my best friend (I say 'will' because when I'll first shift there we won't know each other)…and my s/o after the war!! When I first started scripting this dr I wasn't thinking about having a s/o, it didn't really seem to fit. But as time passed I started feeling more attached to the people in my dr and whenever I found myself thinking about him…I don't know, scripting him as my s/o just felt right- everything in this script is based on a 'it feels right for me' feeling!!

So yeah: acquaintances to friends to lovers I guess LMAO!!

Also, a little fun fact: in the cr I have a necklace with a little gecko!! The base is silver and it's divided into 4 sections. In each one of those sections there's a (fake) flat gem. Also I got extremely lucky because on one side it's more green, on the opposite side it's more light blue and in the middle the two colours kinda mix together in a cool gradient. Me when green = Spinner and light blue = my dr self-

All For One. . .

Alright, what can I say about this man?- the term 'man' doesn't even suit him, this is a fucking monster- thank god I can script whatever I want and I scripted lots of things for safety!! Most of those safety things are related to this guy- they apply to everything, but mainly him and his actions.

I still have to register the fact that for a long time (until the war starts) I'll consider this man my ally- like- the one that saved me and shit- god damn-

Anyway-

PRAYING FOR HIS DOWNFALL🙏🏻‼️

Can't wait to kick his ass!!😘🥰😍

(I don't know what else to say actually-)

miscellaneous

...

[rainyraisin]

Movie Gerald Robotnik: An analysis on how sympathetic does not equate to forgiveable and the differences between redeemability and forgiveability

Redemption is a possibility for every person. To be redeemed is to change for the better. And as Sonic states within this film, "You always have a choice". Choosing to be better is an integral theme within this franchise and has so far been shown through Knuckles, Shadow, and Robotnik, and the movies make a point of illustrating that anybody has this choice. Everyone can be redeemed.

But not everyone can be forgiven.

There is no threshold for where redemption no longer becomes a possibility, because being better is always a possibility, after all its well known that when you're at rock bottom, you can only go up. But when it comes to forgiveness, there is a threshold where granting that forgiveness brings your own morality into question. If you're willing to forgive something that bad, what else are you willing to forgive? The characters that Sonic forgives in these movies only ever get close to doing what they aim to, and these instances only occur because of manipulation, both Knuckles and Shadow being manipulated by one of the Robotniks to aid them in their plan, along with Eggman being manipulated by Gerald. The one character that does go forward with it yet still gets redeemed, Sonic doesn't even outright forgive like he does the other two. Eggman and Sonic never make amends or properly team up together. The one time they do team up is begrudgingly and it is incredibly clear that both sides still despise each other. Despite Ivo's redemption, there is no forgiveness there. Redeemability and forgiveability are not outright intertwined with one another. Being deserving of one does not automatically grant you the other.

Something else that most would assume is interwined with forgiveness is sympathy. You understand why someone has done something, so you forgive them for doing it. That's how the majority of people assume forgiveness to work. If you do not understand why someone has done something, then on what grounds can you forgive them? But sympathising with someone does not mean that their actions are no longer inherently bad or morally wrong, nor that they should be forgiven. And in my opinion, the perfect example of this concept is Gerald Robotnik.

Outside of the movies, Gerald Robotnik had never really been a character I'd thought much about. But something that is a trend with these movies is that they tend to bring characters I wouldn't expect to have liked or didn't previously think about any interpretations of to the forefront of my brain, and that's what happened with Movie Gerald.

The character of Movie Gerald is objectively sympathetic, yes. This man has been torn apart by his grief, losing the person he cared most about, someone he took everywhere and did everything for, and imprisoned for 50 years at the hands of the people who took her from him, only able to escape by giving them more power than they deserve to have (although I do believe that this incarnation of Gerald didn't expect GUN to have the chance to use it, he was incredibly quick to enact his plans and seemed very confident within them). But the movie makes a point to display how he is in no way a character that you should respect or care about, because he will not change. He will not care about others, and so you should not care about him.

One of the best examples of this is one of the first scenes within the eclipse canon, where Gerald forces Shadow to relive Maria's death in order to power the eclipse canon. This event was the downfall of both he and Shadow, the thing that led to the paths they are currently on and the entire reason that all of this is happening right now, but despite how emotionally charged this memory is for the both of them, despite him being the one other person who knows how damaging and absolutely devastating this moment was for the both of them, despite being the only person Shadow has left, he uses it against Shadow anyway for his own personal gain.

And yet, in that same scene, it visually displays how destroyed Gerald was by it. In one look, you can see the moment where this man was broken to the point of irrepability, a point of no return, and in that moment you sympathise with him. Because why wouldn't you? But as soon as that flashback is over, you remember how he has just used what caused that change to hurt the one person who understands, and suddenly all that sympathy is gone, because he does not care.

Gerald Robotnik is a manipulator. He is cold and calculating and any sense of sympathy or care he himself shows at this point is only there to serve his own personal goals. The people around him, the people you expect him to care about (Ivo), and the people he has cared about (Shadow), are only there to be tools for his ultimate plan. He does not care if they live or die, in fact his entire plan revolves around the fact that they will die. Every single human life is completely irrelevant to him. Is utterly disgusting to him. So why should you care? Why should you sympathise? When this man would vaporise you in an instant simply because you exist? For something that may have happened before you were even alive. Before your parents were even alive, in some cases. A small group of people caused this pain, and yet Gerald wishes to take revenge on everyone, no matter how innocent they are.

And the thing that hurts the most is that this change is so perfectly displayed through the flashbacks within this movie. One line that has stuck with me the most is "They want to take Shadow from us, Maria". From US. He cared about Shadow just as much as Maria did. Yet now, when Shadow betrays him, he does not show hurt. He does not speak of how much he trusted Shadow, and how he is saddened by the fact that he would act against him. No. He simply laments how Shadow was once so useful to him. He pratically raised Shadow, he knows he is a child, he refers to him as a child, a kid, yet now he only cares about how useful he can be. Someone he considered his child just as much as Maria is now pratically dead to him.

This man does not care about anyone and never will again. He cannot be forgiven, because he will not forgive anyone. He cannot be sympathised with, because he refuses to sympathise with anyone. He cannot be allowed to live, because if he does everyone else's lives will be forfeit. The choices he has made have led to him being completely unforgiveable, and whilst that sympathy is still somewhat there, it gets harder to provide the further on the movie goes, the more you see of just how little Gerald cares anymore.

I really love how his death was not given a single ounce of seriousness or importance. Every other death or near death experience in this franchise is treated with the severity and intense emotional charge that is necessary within these scenes. Even Walters, a character most people do not even like, is treated with respect during his death, and he is allowed to have his last words.

Yet Gerald doesn't get any last words. Nope, he gets a quill to the ass and get launched into a fucking bugzapper and is never mentioned again. It is utterly perfect for this interpretation of the character because he got the death that he would've provided everyone on earth. No last words, no chance to properly come to terms with the fact that they are going to die. Some may have not even noticed what was happening. Half the world wouldve been asleep. They wouldve all been there one moment, and gone the next. Just like Gerald. And I think that is the death he deserves, or at least it is at this point in his life. The point of no return.

Gerald had multiple chances to change. He always had a choice. He had 50 years to make that choice. He had people there who wanted to help him make that choice, tried to help him make that choice. *Ivo*, his grandson, the last family he had left other than Shadow, tried to help him make that choice. Yet Gerald rejects him. Because he is no Maria.

Gerald is completely hung up on something that happened so long ago, and he will never let that go. He would rather vaporise every living being, including his loved ones, because he lost one person. And whilst Shadow was going to make that same choice, he chose to change.

Some people may even be of the opinion that he had been put through more than Gerald had. Gerald had more family than just Maria and Shadow. Yet they were all Shadow had. Shadow was forced to relive that exact moment for 50 years whilst he was in statis because he had no other choice.

But Gerald did. Gerald always had that choice, as soon as he got out of prison he had that choice, because he had the freedom to do what Shadow could not on his own. He had the choice to not let his anger consume him. Other characters in this franchise have displayed not letting their grief ruin them. Shadow, someone who went through the exact same thing Gerald did, possibly something even worse, makes the choice to not let his grief ruin him, and to do the right thing. To redeem himself. To not let himself get to the point where forgiveness is no longer an option, because deep down he knows that that isn't what he wants. That isn't what Maria would've wanted. She wouldn't want him to reach that threshold (something that Gerald shows he doesn't even care about anymore when he states that it isn't about what Maria would've wanted, it's about what they deserve. Maria is now only the vehicle for his anger, something that pushes it forward but no longer the reason for its presence, because anger has consumed all that remained of him).

Gerald is the example of someone who allowed themselves to pass the threshold to a point where they could no longer be forgiven, the complete opposite of Shadow. And what does he receive for this? Nothing. He does not get the revenge he wanted. He does not get an honourable death like Shadow does, and unlike Shadow, nobody cares when he dies. Because he always had a choice. He just refused to make it.

He didn't choose to be redeemed.

And whilst he is sympathetic, and always will be, he didn't choose to be able to be forgiven.

Gerald Robotnik is the perfect example of how sympathetic does not mean forgiveable, and is, in my opinion, the perfect villain for the Sonic Cinematic Universe. Because he openly rejects every theme that the movies uphold. He rejects family. He rejects being redeemed or forgiven. He rejects that he can change. He goes against everything that these movies and characters stand for, and all he has to show for it is a meangingless demise that only served to make people laugh. Gerald Robotnik is made out to be a joke. And that is the only part of him that will persist in death.

[lillazyboithings]

Wiggly!Richie

In these trying times (me recovering my voice while studying for midterms), I have decided it was the best time to bust out my watercolors and do this

[jojo-schmo]

How did you come up with roleswap Elfilis' design? It's really cool!

Hi! Thank you so much! :D I'd love to share my thought process! Gather round the armchair by the fireplace, friends! It's story time!

I've said before that the Forgotten Land Roleswap started off as a doodle that swapped Dedede and Bandana Dee's roles as Player 2 and the Brainwashed Beast. But when I realized how fun that one little change was, how about EVEN MORE changes? That's how my one-time doodle turned into the full AU story. I swapped Meta Knight and Kirby, Clawroline and Leongar, and Sillydillo and Gorimondo- and because the story is so Waddle-Dee centric, I promoted Dedede to "Player 1" since the stakes would be higher for him as their King.

So now I had a story that had a lot of opposite traits to canon and I wanted to explore that further! When it came to the matter of Elfilin, I thought he would probably behave too similarly towards Dedede and Meta as he did to Kirby and Bandee. He'd be friendly and trusting, communicative, optimistic, knowledgeable, and cooperative. So how about providing them a travel companion who is defensive, has trouble communicating, a little wild, uninformed about themselves and the world around them, and has a bit of a temper?

But working with all these opposite traits didn't feel in-character for Elfilin anymore. So my natural next step was to swap Elfilin with Elfilis and make a new version of the Forgotten Land's lost little pup!

Enough yapping about the context behind my decisions, tho. How'd I come up with Roleswap Elfilis' design?

I see you out there, Fecto Forgo fans. Maybe somebody out there's thought, "Roleswap Elfilis does not look like them! Why not? That's what the other 50% of the Ultimate Life Form looks like! I demand justice for the angry glowing rat fetus!"

Maybe nobody has ever thought this. But I wonder sometimes lol

Your feelings are valid, friends. Please lemme explain my reasonings.

This fella, to me, is the abandoned wet specimen left to float in a jar for who-knows-how-long after a forcible physical and mental separation via spatial teleportation shenanigans. And I think part of their appearance is due to their role as the trapped and forgotten half.

The role of the half that got away fully formed his own body and inherited some traits from the complete being-

For Elfilin in canon, he got ears that are proportionally huge compared to the rest of his body, blue eyes that sparkle with the light of a thousand destroyed planets, a tiny bit of pink fur for his adorable blushies, and a really long fluffy tail. Maybe becoming a being free of chaos gave him those sweet eyes like Kirby and the Waddle Dees have.

My reasoning is that whichever half ends up escaping the Lab and fully forming their own body, they would carry the major physical traits the other wouldn't inherit.

Anyway, that left Elfilis with the horns, colorful and expressive eyes, whiskers, beige chest fluff, opposable thumbs, and pink tummy fur.

Elfilin gets the long tail in the bodily divorce so Elfilis has a short stubby little cotton tail like a bunny. Like if he ended up with just the very tip of the Ultimate Life Form's tail.

Behold this diagram above I came up with two years ago! Disclaimer: the canon Elfilin is the one in the chart. And I draw him a little differently these days lol. I ain't showing anyone how he ended up in the Roleswap yet tho!!!! >:0

But Roleswap Elfilis is more than just "baby version of the Ultimate Life Form..."

All the differences in the Forgotten Land Roleswap from canon stem from one event in the timeline. One change that I added to the events that were already supposed to take place. It's why the Ultimate Life Form split differently. Why the Beasts have different roles and aesthetics. Even why the portal took Bandana Dee and Kirby before Meta Knight and King Dedede.

How did that saying go again? The flap of wings somewhere can influence a bunch of huge changes somewhere else down the line...? What was the name of that theory again....? Hmm. Not important, I guess.

Anyway, the end!! You sly dog, you got me monologuing!!1! /lighthearted

[charmac]

Do you think Mac has jacked off while reading the Bible? Or is he too ashamed? Or does the shame just turn him on more? Are the pages of his Bible all stuck together?

Oh, I don't think; we know:

(Pages stuck together, thanks for the confirmation, Charlie)

I think the shame definitely turns him on more, considering Mac Day:

And, the connected punishment, lest we forget The Gang Goes to Hell... (and the script here... whew)

While he was repressed then, he wasn't as of Charlie's Home Alone, so I think it's clear to claim that a part of his "homosexual awakening" was connected to the fact that he was gradually getting more and more into the idea of being punished (gone sexual) for his sins, to a point where he was just genuinely jerking off to the "evils of homosexuality"

I do wanna continue here though and say Season 15 is pretty interesting because we see Mac battle between being Catholic and proudly gay. He seemingly has no issue bragging to a Priest in the middle of a church that he's into triple penetration, but it is his sex life that is the driving "reasoning" for why he thinks he should become a Catholic Priest:

He's been "S-ing&F-ing" his way though life for too long and now he thinks God has taken away one of his identities (Irish) as a result. Mac's idea of being punished by/for God continues, but it's now through the form of revocation (as opposed to shame or flagellation). I think there's a clear "connect the dots" idea that depriving himself of sex (via becoming a Priest) is an "evolved" form of allowing God to punish him for being gay.

Obviously Mac learns he was lied to, as he actually is Irish, so his "journey" here is a bit of a wash, but the fact that his rationale jumped to God punishing him for having gay sex still stands. As he grows to accept himself, he's still looking for ways to feel shame (which, as we've seen, gets him off)...

But is the constant seeking for some form of punishment still there? We didn't see much of his Catholicism in Season 16 (I think the only mention of God from Mac was in The Gang Gets Cursed), but we did continue to see his sex life and—well, that was pretty heavy on Mac, openly gay dating, somehow managing to be neglected and deprived of actual gay sex, wasn't it?

[puppppppppy]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[akkivee]

AND THE WAY!!!!!! THE BOYS COVERS ALL HAD THEIR 2/3 GUMIS IN FRONT OF THEIR LEADERS BUT!!!!!!

ITS ICHIJIKU IN FRONT OF OTOME!!!!!! ITS OTOME IN FRONT OF NEMU!!!!!!! YOU COULD EVEN SAY OTOMES STOPPING OR SHIELDING NEMU WITH THAT POSE OTOME IS BACK FR I FEEL!!!!!!!!!!