#tell me if there are any more TWs

[sunshines-child]

Well shit-

What started as a Nico Di Angelo redesign is now an OC that looks rather similar to an old OC I had 2-3 years ago that I would only draw. So.. I guess it’s a subconscious one that grew up with me?? Anyways, have some lore (TW: rape) -His name is William Corson. As he got old and “delved into the dark side” he would claim himself to be named Luc, shortened from Lucifer. -he looks like his mother. Not a good thing, considering that after her death, his father couldn’t cope and would dress him up in his mother’s old clothes and slather him with makeup before raping him. He was 8 by the way. This would last until he was 11, when he’d kill his father and frame it as suicide. -at age 15, he gets assaulted by a woman over twice his age. 9 months later, a baby arrives at his doorstep. He names the baby Theo, meaning "a divine gift" -In means to make sure his child has a good life, he sells his body to make money (his child will shoot him later btw). He learns the way of how the system works and breaks it from the inside. He'd also kill his boss and take over. -He builds an "underground" empire all in means to keep his son safe. -Also did i mention that he's a murderer. He kills a lot of people. It's insane. Many times it's in this psychopathic way to make sure his son is safe. His son will grow to despise this (an inevitably shoot him).

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Part 2/2

By the time Stanley had realized he wasn't as alone as he believed himself to be entrapped in this ravenous abyss; he had honestly begun to suspect that he was finally starting to properly lose his mind.

In all the ceaseless miles that Stanley had journeyed during his apparent permanent residence within the dark devouring void, not once had he encountered another conscious, walking, talking being similar to himself. Every other formerly living creature that he had crossed paths with had been so... silent. Empty. Dead, in every sense of the word. It was as though the very essence of life itself had been sucked out of their bodies with a straw, their forms slowly falling apart piece by piece under the vicious gluttony of the darkness that surrounded them. They looked like they actually were supposed to be there, unmoving and comatose, unlike him.

So, when Stanley first began to encounter the twins, all of a sudden, he wasn't the only one in the dark.

When meeting the first pair of them, he found himself standing in a lake.

He hadn't even noticed the changes at first. It felt as though he had been walking for weeks on end, his body moving purely on autopilot and his aching legs leading him towards a destination only it knew. A thick fog of forgetfulness and flickering memories had descended upon his brain like a heavy blanket of numbing static as he had traveled. In this absentminded state, he hadn't even realized that the ever-present undulating, buzzing darkness surrounding him had begun to gradually shift and morph to form a horizon line; stretching into tall looming cliffsides that almost seemed to close in on him. Once the nonexistent floor beneath his soles abruptly began to ripple and warp, like the disturbed surface of a shallow puddle; only then did he finally notice his transformed environment.

The transition was seamless, almost dream-like. One moment, he was still surrounded by that filthy, overwhelming abyss; and the next, his boots were suddenly plunged deep into the cold, dark lake water.

The silence didn't leave, however. It still choked and stuffed its way into Stanley's ears to clog up his mind with thick cotton; the eerie quiet not quite matching the calm, almost serene scenery the void seemed to have abruptly transformed itself into. Like a movie with its sound cut off; leaving only the unsettling hum of the projector to fill the empty air.

It was odd. The lake was surely incredibly deep. He could obviously tell from how thin and pathetically small the shores appeared all the way from where he now unceremoniously stood in the middle of the lake. Stan could look down and see the darkness below his feet swallow what meager light that managed to break through the murky waters. The overwhelming black almost seemed to beckon him, gaping and haunting; a bottomless underwater pit of pitch black that never seemed to end.

And yet, he didn't sink. Stanley remained perfectly level, the almost ink like waters stopping just at ankle level, as though he were held up just above the surface by some invisible force. Even the writhing waves seemed small and low, as though the waters were shy to climb up his legs further than that. It was odd, so very odd.

However, it wasn't nowhere near as odd as the sight that greeted him when he finally lifted his eyes from the waters.

Stanley had crossed paths with truly unbelievable sights in this strange somewhere; from bursting, collapsing stars; to the imploding heat death of entire universes, but none of them seemed to hold the candle to what he saw then when he lifted his eyes:

Children.

Two, to be exact. Two, nearly identical looking children stood motionless before him; completely soaked through to the bone as though they had taken a plunge into the frigid water that pooled around their ankles. It was a girl and a boy, both adorned with twin expressions utterly devoid of emotion, their wide eyed stare seeming to burn holes into his thin jacket. Their drenched clothes sagged off of their scrawny frames; thin rivulets of water dirpping off of them and disturbing the glassy surface of the water at their feet. The little girl's hair had messily stuck to her face in thin sodden strands, her cheeks still full and round with youth just like the boy's. They looked young. Too young to be in a place such as this.

Oh, but their eyes; their eyes.

They burned with such anger; such injustice, brighter than any dying star or galaxies he had ever seen. Anger towards the world, to fate, to whatever cruel deity that had deemed them fit to be sent to this wretched place so prematurely. They were too young to be here; to be entrapped like he was amongst this hungry darkness. And yet, here they were, sheer denial against their own untimely deaths being the only thing keeping them awake and conscious amongst the dead and rotting. A show of juvenile defiance to nature itself so vehement even the all-consumign darkness seemed hesitant to devour them whole just yet.

It saddened him. It saddened him to know that they belonged there, that they were supposed to be there. He could see it, he could feel it; they were dead. No amount of determination could deny that universal fact.

When they spoke, Stanley could hear anger:

Stan chuckled in a futile attempt to lighten the suddenly heavy atmosphere that threatened to crush him whole. "A lake monster? You kids and your imagination," he teased, hoping to somehow rid the poor kids of the haunted look that seemed to whirl in their glares. No child should have been burdened with such a knowing look; such eyes that looked like they had seen everything there was to see about the world, the horrid and the good.

Clearly, it had been the wrong thing to say, and Stanley's faux pas was rewarded with a scowl from the little boy. A world's worth of sour contempt etched into every contorted groove that his grimace seemed to dig into his much too young face. Stan suddenly felt guilt squeeze at his weary bones for having caused that.

"That's what they all said," the boy spat out, eyes shining with a sheen of wetness Stan wasn't sure he was prepared to deal with.

Stan left that first interaction with the twins with the feeling of guilt and sorrow still clining to him.

He couldn't have known, at the time. He couldn't have known that this wouldn't be anywhere near the last time that he would meet the pair. He hadn't realised just how many of them there were. After that first pair, his endless journeying within the Abyss was hardly be spent alone anymore. Countless more times, he came face to face with the exact same two young and impossibly worn faces; forced to meet one pair of beaten and bruised kids after another.

Not one pair had died the same death as another. Some had gotten lost, prey to whatever threat that had snatched them up out in the open; some had fallen from high up; some had been crushed under an incredible weight; some had burned; some eaten alive; some zombified. Some didn't even seem physically harmed at all, body perfectly intact, and yet that same faraway, distrubed look in their eyes remained.

He thought the worst ones were the ones he found alone. A little girl or a little boy, left all lonesome without their other half there. Twins, he remembered a pair of them telling him once.

Once, he had come across a town full of silent, stone statues. It was a rustic, shabby, almost nostalgic looking town- odd and strangely familiar. The sight of it had tugged at an aged memory that had long since wasted away in the back of his mind. It was serene, almost deceptively so. The sun shone; the air smelled crisp and fresh; numerous waterfalls continued to crash down from the tall cliffsides; and a soft nonexistent breeze whistled through the thicket of pine trees that blanketed the outskirts of the town. None of it seemed to match the gruesome scene of the hundred wailing statues that littered every inch of the town.

He had found the boy's statue on the other side of town, deep within the green forest and toppled over the gnarled roots of a towering tree. Like the rest of the townsfolk, he too, was frozen mid-shriek; his stone face twisted and contorted into a mock impression of a silent scream as his body lay paused in a writhing struggle. He made sure to be gentle when he carried the boy's statue over to place it beside the girl's, whose statue stood far deeper into the forest, sporting the same rictus grimace of terror as her brother's. It somehow felt wrong for them to have been so far apart from one another, even in death.

He had come to dread meeting of the twins. He hated every second he had to confront yet another pair of dead children that did not belong here, but fate had decided they did. He despised having to listen to their tales of woe as they wept about the injustice of the world, of having died young; he despised himself for being unable to do more than weep with them.

"We don't belong here, Grunkle Stan," he would listen to the little girl weep, calling him a title he didn't recognize. He never remembered if they had ever told him their name, but they all seem to know his, without a fail. "If we're dead, then what about you? What about Grunkle Ford? Mom? Dad? What about them? We can't be dead, we can't be," they would say, confusion and frustration written all over their faces. They didn't understand. They didn't understand why they had come to the darkness so early, so unfairly.

He never knew what to say, he'd never been good with words.

All he could do was kneel down to their levels and engulf them in his arms, hoping he could somehow squeeze the pain straight out of their bodies in his embrace. He hugged them, because what else could he do?

[keebiecoo]

On the themes of Ableism in Mouthwashing, Daisuke!!! Whatever disabilities you headcannon he has, it is clear the other characters perceive him as disabled, useless, lacking in abilities, etc. & that is so important to his arc. Daisuke, because of how the others perceive him, was treated like a liability, & had his autonomy stripped away throughout the narritive.

Swansea clearly cared for him deeply, & the way he expressed that was ableist. Calling him "a useless ray of goddamn sunshine" was cute, but also shined light on the problems with how Swansea sees him & treats him.

A perfect example is the (in BIG quotation marks) "mercy" killing. Obviously, it was also because he was drunk & panicing & in a terrible situation, but the actual thought process that lead to Swansea "mercy" killing him was all ableism, babey! It wasn't a mercy, & wasn't portrayed as a mercy in the game, Swansea thought it would be, but that's part of the ableism, part of Daisuke losing his autonomy. He wasn't asked, Swansea decided it would be best, because Daisuke was in pain, & he couldn't bear to see him in pain, because he wanted to take that decision off Daisuke's shoulders, because he couldn't imagine Daisuke wanting to try to live, even if his chance of surviving was low, he didn't think it would be worth Daisuke's suffering, even if Daisuke did think it was worth it. He never asked! It was ableism & love combining.

He was constantly talked for, or about, the others withheld information from him, & i have to wonder why, to keep him from worrying? to preserve his innocence? He was the only one who never found out how awful Jimmy was, he was never shown to be uncomfortable with him, in fact he opened up to Jimmy more than the others, would he have done that if he knew to be wary?

I don't mean that Anya needs to tell everyone about her trauma, but Daisuke is also stuck on the ship with this guy, who he still trusts & looks up to, & they never include him in their worries, or Adult Conversations, they never give him a heads up. Jimmy leads him to his death, & he has no reason to question his orders.

He had no choice, no autonomy, no information or warning, all for being "a useless ray of goddamn sunshine."

[notacluedo]

more boys bleeding

reference image from: https://caren.co.uk/news/jordan-barrett-shot-by-jack-bridgland/

[the-broken-pen]

Hey can you do one about a villain with teleporting powers

The hero woke up gasping, scrambling upright in bed as the back of their neck tingled in warning. Their eyes darted around the room, blurry, before settling on the far wall.

The villain watched them, idle and unimpressed.

The hero’s lungs, traitorously, forgot how to breathe. They wheezed slightly, one hand clenching onto the blanket, the other sliding underneath the pillow for their knife, where–

The villain hummed, and the hero’s attention snapped back to them at the same time they managed to draw in a painful, terror-addled breath. The villain’s gaze was unnerving as they flipped a knife over their knuckles.

The hero’s knife.

“You,” the hero managed, but they couldn’t think of anything to say, and they were so tired and their pulse was jackrabbiting in their ears.

The villain seemed to know this.

“I warned you,” they said. They didn’t even sound mean about it. Just a gentle reminder–hey, don’t forget to check the mail, hey, it’s your mom’s birthday, hey, can you feed the dog?

‘If you keep interfering, I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth and make you stop. There is nowhere I will not find you. Do you hear me? You cannot run from me, so don’t make me chase you.’

The hero swallowed.

“I didn’t think you would actually do it.”

The villain nodded like they had expected this. “You’ve learned from your mistakes, though, yeah?”

The hero knew the right answer. They knew that the proper response would be to slide off the bed onto their knees, to swear in every language they knew that they wouldn’t do it again. That the villain would be the only one allowed to splash blood onto the streets of their city, and the hero would choke on the pain of doing nothing and stay silent in it.

“You knew I wasn’t going to listen to you,” the hero said, and it was accusatory. The villain shifted slightly. “You had to have known I wouldn’t stop just because you threatened me.”

The villain shrugged one shoulder. 

“Of course I did. If you were the type of person who would have stopped, I would have killed you instead of giving you a warning.”

The hero’s grip tightened on the blanket. “That doesn’t make sense. If I was going to stop then why kill me–”

“I don’t believe in weakness,” the villain interrupted. Their gaze was searching and heavy on the hero’s face, knife still spinning over their knuckles. “Which is why you’re alive, because you have never been weak.”

The hero’s jaw tensed.

“You wanted this.”

The hint of a smile pulled at the villain’s mouth.

“Of course I did. You think I didn’t know you would try and run? You think I didn’t know exactly how you would react the moment I threatened anyone in that cursed city?”

“So you weren’t actually going to kill anyone?”

“Oh, no,” the villain corrected. “Of course I was going to. They don’t matter to me.”

The hero’s stomach turned. 

“Those are people–”

“They’re a drop in an ocean of humanity. You know better than to think I would care about something so trivial,” the villain said.

“They’re not trivial–”

The villain sighed, harsh in the darkness of the room.

“I bore of this. Get dressed. We’re leaving.”

The hero jolted back.

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

The villain sighed again, as if they were dealing with an unruly child and getting a headache for their efforts. It sent the hero bristling like an angry cat.

“There’s nowhere you can go that I can’t find you. You know that, right? There is no end of the line for this. You can drive until you run out of gasoline, until your feet bleed, and you drain your accounts of money. And I will follow, and I will leave every person who helped you nothing more than a stain on the ground, until you decide the trail of bodies isn’t worth avoiding me. Is that really something you want?”

The hero set their jaw, rising to their feet. 

“You won’t find me,” they swore. And the villain–

The villain laughed.

“I know your face. Of course I can find you.”

The hero was missing something, and the lack of knowledge felt like a sword over their head. 

“I don’t–”

“There’s no way you would have known,” the villain said gently, like they knew how much it bothered the hero that they were missing something that was apparently vital. 

They probably did know.

The hero glared.

The villain looked on the verge of another laugh.

“Once I’ve seen a face, I can find a person anywhere in the world. No matter how far. That’s all I need. You could go to the other side of the planet, and I could teleport to you without a second thought.”

The hero gaped.

“Any face?”

The villain paused. “Yes.”

The hero’s throat went abruptly dry.

Any face–

“You could do so much good,” the hero said, and their voice broke slightly. “Do you know how many people you could save? Natural disasters and missing persons cases and–”

“You misunderstand me.”

“You could–”

“I don’t want to do good.”

The hero stopped.

“You don’t want to do good,” they said flatly.

“I am not a good person,” the villain said. “I don’t want to do good. I want power, and I want to do as I please, and I want you.”

The hero was going to be sick on the wooden flooring. They were barefoot, and weaponless, and that fear still ran up their spine.

“I am a person. You cannot have a person.”

“You are a glorious, powerful being,” the villain countered.

“That doesn’t make me less of a person.”

“No,” the villain agreed. “But it does make you something other than trivial. How could I do anything other than want to have that?”

The hero backed up a step.

“You can’t have me.”

The villain matched them, silent even as they stepped forward.

“You plan to run?”

They sounded amused.

The hero supposed that was better than anger.

“Stay over there,” the hero said shakily. The villain obliged, settling their hands into their pockets. Like this was a means to an end. They had flipped to the back of the book and read the ending, and were watching the hero catch up to the scenes they had already seen played out. The villain’s eyes burned into them.

And abruptly, skin going cold, the hero realized there truly wasn’t a way out of this for them.

The villain would never let them be. They could run, like the villain said, and the villain could kill every person who so much as looked their way. They could hide, and stumble through cities and down alleys and the villain would always be around the corner. 

They had little doubt that every other person in this shitty motel was already dead. 

The villain grinned like they could read every thought as it crossed the hero’s face.

“Where will you go,” the villain said. They stepped forward until they were close enough to touch. 

It wasn’t really the sort of question that wanted an answer.

“Everyone else in this building is dead, aren’t they?”

The villain cocked their head, as if to say, Come now, you know the answer to that.

The hero didn’t think they would ever be able to draw a full breath again.

“Where,” the villain said, soft like a secret. “Will you go, little hero?”

It felt like dying. It felt like reaching out to help someone a second too late. A second too slow to catch the building as it fell. The wrong side of a fire before it blew up.

“With you,” they whispered, and the villain smiled wider.

“What was that?”

“You heard me,” the hero snapped, and thrust their hand out. The villain took it without hesitation.

They tugged the hero into them, leaning to slot their mouth next to the hero’s ear. The hair on the back of the hero’s neck stood up.

“You could do so much bad,” the villain whispered, and the hero ground their teeth hard enough to hurt.

Anger flared bright enough to drain every ounce of fear from their body. Because this was the worst case scenario, wasn’t it? What could be lost.

“Every step you make, every blow you deal and fire you start, I’ll be there. And I'll stop you. Again, and again, and again. You want me?” The hero bared their teeth. “Then have me.”

The villain tugged them closer, and laughed.

“I look forward to it,” the villain replied, and then darkness swallowed the both of them whole.

A week later, a team of agents entered the motel to find it coated in blood and the smell of death.

A month later, everyone knew there was a fight of immovable power and unstoppable force shattering its way across the world. 

A year later, the victor panted through a bloody grin, bruised and crackling with vicious unleashed power, and laughed. Because truly, the ending had been on the horizon since the moment the two of them had first met.

[scarletlight-has-issues]

Dichotomy of Fear

Click for quality!

So this requires some explanation. My girlfriend and I were having a typical conversation about characters from other fandoms, in this case WTNV, falling under TMA fears. Normal conversation for a TMA fan. Anyway, it started with noticing that Kevin could fall into multiple different entities (Eye, slaughter, corruption, stranger, spiral, etc) and we realized that Cecil and Kevin both weirdly work as half of the entirety of the spectrum of fear respectively, overlapping in their Eye alignment. Sooo I sketched this, visualizing their split alignment bc we thought it was a really cool concept. It turned out way better than expected, so I’m posting it.

It then spiraled from there into an au concept where Cecil and Kevin are physical manifestations of half of the spectrum of fear respectively, poured into the world and each representing two sides of the same coin. There’s much much more to it and l’ll happily ramble more about it if anyone wants to hear, but for now, have this.

There is now an explanation for this au’s premise here!

[seokmatthewz]

SEOK MATTHEW ✧ SWEAT

[betweenblackberrybranches]

First meetings part 2

<< < >

In which Sun has a panic attack and Y/N tries their best to help.

Sun and Moon do not share the same memory pool, if they are "sleeping" when the other is active they do not automatically know what happened in that time. Though they do usually tell eachother everything imidiatly after "waking up". They often stay awake when the other is active though to keep eachother company.

But yea seems like Moon was the last one active before, well, whatever happened to them, while Sun had a lil nap.

[rip-headphones-users]

My Headcannons for how Infected and Kasper operate

Buckle up, this is a long post. Thinking about how characters function in relation to the world around them is basically a hobby of mine, so expect more. (I have others planned for both lampert and unpleasant at the very least)

(Not ship related) (angst heavy sorry)

Kasper’s infection is a brain-rooted/cognito-hazardous parasite

He got it after purposely ignoring a chainmail curse, both as a sort of “fuck around and find out” as well as an outright form of self-harm/self-sabotage.

The parasite is the one that primarily controls all the conscious actions of infected, while kasper now acts sub-consciously.

Its less of a split-mind situation and more of a Venom + Eddie or Gundam + Pilot situation they are two separate entities inhabiting the same body that can potentially act at the same time

It just so happens that the parasite from the chainmail curse has VERY similar desires/interests/motivations to Kasper, so the host/parasite relationship actually works very well.

Infected accidentally makes Kasper lose a decent chunk of weight after it takes over, due to it not being able to feel when Kasper is hungry and forgetting to let him eat

Kasper and Infected can be addressed separately (Lampert, UnpleasantGradient, Folly and maybe a few others know this) and Kasper tends to choose not to respond due to his own apathy, instead opting to let Infected take the lead.

Being able to respawn/no permadeath on the regretevator is the reason why Kasper opted to infect himself, as he saw it as the next closest thing to death/suicide.

Allowing infected to enter his mind has radically reduced Kasper’s lifespan. (He’d be lucky if he made it to his late 30’s)

His nose bleeds when Kasper and infected try to act at the same time

Infected is only transferrable via chainmail

Infected doesn’t feel any of the bodily necessities that kasper has, so its not uncommon for him to collapse of exhaustion, dehydration, hunger, ect. If someone doesn’t remind him.

Infected doesnt feel pain either

Kasper feels it though. A lot.

In fact the whole process of infected entering his mind was incredibly painful as is.

Infected isn’t the reason why things in the elevator/on his own body suddenly lose their texture, neither of them know why that happens now.

They personally aren’t physically effected by it and both find it cool, so neither are bothered.

It’s probably just the result of infected’s malware (thats only technically supposed to effect machines) managing to attach itself to a human. Or maybe Kasper could do that and never previously knew. Who knows. ;)

Kasper/infected can phase through objects that are textureless, including parts of his own body. Anything else will collide as it normally would, and take damage.

Infected will always talk with full leetspeak, (L13k D1$) while Kasper will only have one letter/number substitution (L1ke Th1s)

UG unintentionally named infected that. Basically just looked at Kasper, who had just let a parasite into his mind, and looked at the chainmail virus on his computer, and it went “huh… Bro’s Infected”

Bro is, in fact, infected.

[clegfly]

Y2FyZWxlc3NuZXNzCgpub3VuCgpmYWlsdXJlIHRvIGdpdmUgc3VmZmljaWVudCBhdHRlbnRpb24gdG8gYXZvaWRpbmcgaGFybSBvciBlcnJvcnM7IG5lZ2xpZ2VuY2UuCiJtb3N0IHJvYWQgYWNjaWRlbnRzIGFyZSBjYXVzZWQgYnkgY2FyZWxlc3NuZXNzIG9uIHRoZSBwYXJ0IG9mIG1vdG9yaXN0cyI=

Okay I’ve been posting too much silly Puter stuff lately. Party’s over people

[robots-are-kinda-hot]

I’ve been wanting to post these for a while!!

BEHOLD! tWO ANOMALY AUS!!!!

((Anomaly by @htsan!!!!))

to be honest, either concept could just be for a reader in general, but the first thing I thought of was sansnomaly so!!! yeah

feel free to ask me stuff about either of these AUs!! The general info is down below but I do have more ideas for these! Depending on how well this does I might make more drawings, but if you want more feel free to ask!!!!

So the Hades AU is pretty simple. Sans is our Persephone, getting dragged down to the underworld with us!! I chose to make my Hades anomaly a lonely and nervous person, but the anomaly is literally us, so the personality is up to you!!! You can choose to follow the stuff I put in text, or not. Either way it’s more sansnomaly :)

The second one is a little more obscure- it’s a Coraline AU! We give Sans this little world where he can be happy for a while before he returns (we aren’t gonna hurt him or anything like the Other Mother dw!!!) to his own! Also, there are multiple anomalies!! Unfortunately, we’re all stuck in the Other World. This causes some anomalies to… become a little unhinged. They still don’t hurt Sans, but they take on more and more spiderlike qualities as they get more and more possessive of Sans :( The anomalies who have more doll-like attributes still want Sans to stay with them, but if he is put in harm’s way they will let him go.

Also, yes the spider anomalies have the Other Mother’s hands. Those things are fucking gorgeous how could I not

[poniko-w]

look at my zombie adukin doodle

10000 gela for the first person who can get adukin to admit she has issues & go to therapy. or like any of the numas really

[meowuff]

OKAY! This lil thing here is my contribution for @littlemissartemisia DTIYS!

I had to cut it shorter, I didnt wanted to let it get any longer than it already is and was thinking a lot of "how" and "who" and stuff but I think it looks okay!

Congrats to 800 followers!!!! \( ﾟヮﾟ)/

HEADS UP FOR UNDER THE CUT!

This comic involves some character death and violence.

[orange-artblog]

dark cream week - day 2: knight‘s armor

cross by jakei95

shattered by galacii-gallery

dream and nightmare by jokublog

dark cream week by @zu-is-here

[seonghwacore]

*unsheathe the sword* are the scammers bothering you, your highness?

notes: seonghwa is using the term ‘kkam-pang’ instead of ‘kkam-ok” which is the slang for ’prison/jail’. The editor censored it for courtesy because they don't know how old their viewers (and the con artists that hwa targeted) would be. also, this is just my intuition but since hwa also mentioned an institution, in this case "the police department", tho what he meant was the fake ones but maybe this was to prevent him from the risk of getting misunderstood for defamation.

[200grandbeaverave]

It's a bit of a shame that the Dada Dog isn't a child of Lila. Considering the motif of the suffering dog and the thematic topics of abuse and lack of agency, and considering the fraternity's intentions when "creating" Lila, Garage Heathen could have incorporated the puppy mill practice as another symbol. A dog maintained by its owners just enough so that it may be indiscriminately bred and provide its owners with offspring, for the owners' benefit— certified Who's Lila moment