#the greys are fucking getting me good

[itwasthereaminuteago]

[zillychu]

Consider this: ghosts are actually exactly what the Fentons think they are.

They're snapshots of a longing so strong, unfinished business so deep it reaches out beyond life. Lingers just a bit longer. And if it happens to meet a dense cloud of ectoplasm (invisible to the naked eye, but omnipresent even in the mortal realm), it coalesces. The ectoplasm fits into the shape of it. Which, when the desire is strong enough, it's got a rough idea of its self-image. This tends to mean a more humanoid figure, though it's more often warped in some way–a self-reflection, skewed by said desire. The warping varies on the dead soul’s perception of themselves, the intensity of their desire, how much time passed after death, and how much ectoplasm was present.

In short… no matter how “normal" a ghost looks or acts, it really, truly isn't human. It's animated ectoplasm with a single goal: an obsession. Nothing else. They're more akin to plants than animals, following a single drive with no emotion. They react to stimuli, recognize threats (including other ghosts), and can even imitate human speech and mannerisms to obtain fulfillment of their obsession.

Not “evil" by any stretch, but they're entirely driven by instinct. A tree doesn't pause to consider the rocks it breaks with its roots. A cordyceps doesn't torture its host for fun, or kill with malice. It just does. It follows code in its DNA to survive and multiply–And ghosts just follow the code in its ectoplasm to fulfill its obsession. The more powerful a ghost, the better it's able to overcome obstacles preventing this–whether through brute force, or manipulation. This power is always directly proportional to the amount of ectoplasm present at the time of formation, and how much time passed since death.

What then, does this mean for Danny? Danny, who's previously come to the conclusion that he's only half-ghost, which surely explains how he retained his mind? His independent thoughts and emotions?

What does this mean for Phantom, who experienced an entire world’s worth of ectoplasm condensed as a singularity, at the exact time of his death? Whose strength only grows and begins to exceed every limit they previously thought possible?

If a ghost was as strong as him… could it mimic a human perfectly? Down to a molecular level?

Could it, in its desire to fill an obsession… trick its own fake mind into thinking it was still human? Or half-ghost?

[sunnibits]

god. something about samfro is so…

[luck-of-the-drawings]

VIOLATOR!! DESECRATOR!! TURN AROUND AND MEET THE HATER!!

VEEERRRY HAPPY WITH WILLIAMS LIL SCARY ARC. HORROR MOVIE BOY. LIL ZOMBIE GUY. UNDEAD AND PIIIISSED OFF LIKE CMAAAHHHNNN I HOPE HE KEEPS THAT CHAINSAW FOREVER. IF YOURE UNDEAD CAN YOU STILL GET A NICOTINE ADDICTION? I SURE HOPE SO!

[simplydnp]

Dan talking abt how tiktok is “the downfall of humanity” gave very millennial😭. Girl don’t act like you weren’t on tumblr in its peak years and don’t scroll on twitter every day (arguably worse). It’s just a pet peeve of mine when people say that because thats literally what gen x/boomers said about everything on the internet. MySpace was the true start of the downfall of humanity imo. Everything else just followed along! 👺

well he is a millenial 😔

i think he's trying to be conscious of everything that comes along with tiktok--safety concerns, privacy concerns, as well as the erasure of the creator and the platforming of The Algorithm.

he doesn't deny there's good content there, he even says in the video if his fyp gave him this content continually, he would use it. but he's all too aware of the advertising and prevalence of the algorithm. and, he's concerned about the amount of time people (cough, phil, cough) put into it.

i think they're valid concerns. i think having good-faith criticism about the things you choose to spend your time on are important. not that having guilt all the time is good, but something doesn't have to be 'perfect' in order for you to interact with it. (see youtube, twitter, and even here with tumblr)

i'll be honest, i'm a gen z who doesn't use tiktok. there's good tiktoks out there, but i prefer a different type of slop (everything is slop don't lie to yourself).

like if it really bothers you that much i suggest you sit with that discomfort and figure out why.

a lot of people older than gen z shit on tiktok because they think it's turning the frogs gay--it's just a title of something they can blame their hatred of everything different from them on, and their disgust for the youth who dare to not live by their morals. it's not about tiktok itself. whereas dan is seeing the flaws and faults of the app and the culture. you don't have to agree with him, but his opinion on it shouldn't ruin your day. he's just a guy.

[codecicle]

codecicle you put things on my screen that are so confusing and have no relevance to my interests but its you so i find it so very endearing. keep having so much fun and whimsy on tumblr dot com child :3

you have GOT to get on this horrible TV show dude you don't even understand. it's bad and has 0 redeemable qualities, literally my bread and butter rn. can't get enough of it

[cradle-of-darkness]

COOKIES OF DARKNESS NATION WE ARE OFFICIALLY BACK 💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💪💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

(long rambling in tags if u care)

[short-wooloo]

"I want Jedi with red lightsabers!"

Edgelord detected

[divinekangaroo]

Feel like there’s not very much attention paid to the S2 trauma of Tommy being coerced into use as an assassin.

(and, from a few of my notes during the S2 rewatch, the men he killed were sufficient to trigger great hostilities w Ireland; effectively he killed those men and (re-)started a war?) ‘The Chosen One’ / ‘I am Chosen’ / ‘May the Chosen One smoke?’

And then Churchill letting Tommy think he was being executed ‘Chosen One’ and crawling out of the grave owing his life to Churchill ‘I am Chosen’; the way Tommy asked for his last cigarette before that execution ‘May the Chosen One smoke’; his rage and disgust in both scenes, the coat on the meat hook and reminiscence of hanging…

The way he has to ‘give up on grace’ just prior to committing the first assassination, the way he has sex w Lizzie like eating a last meal he can’t even taste; the way he gives up on actual Grace as well as grace, just before he resigns himself to his own execution…

I mean, I’m nonsensical about it, can’t quite explain; at S1 it is a fairly hopeful ending; his personal ‘schemes’ for S2 reach high but aren’t wildly out of reach. To that point, when he’s killed it’s primarily been in the heat of battle.

But then he’s pulled off the street and forced to cold premeditated murder.

That first assassination he committed I feel did him some serious, serious damage, and that was the point that he did release any idea of ‘grace’ for himself, with everything that followed just further embedding that belief.

[spite-and-waffles]

Trying to drag real-world ethics into the Batverse is a bad faith argument when absolutely nothing in the Batverse has any ethical or moral standing in the real world.

Real world evils that claim death tolls:

- billionaires

- cops

- vigilanteism

- copaganda (crime-fighting as a genre is libertarian copaganda)

- prison industrial complex

- war on drugs

- child soldiers

- policing entities without democratic or civic transparency or oversight

- finding acceptable targets for your personal trauma and visiting what you believe is justified violence on them

But all of that is fine and good and acceptable as conceits of the universe, EXCEPT the question of "should this rich white guy who appoints himself the protector of the innocent due to the failures of the legal system, actually do something about this guy who keeps killing because of the failure of the legal system?" THAT is somehow above challenge or question. Never mind that turning the concept of "legal incompetence", meant to protect the most vulnerable population in a society, into a loophole for fictional mass murderers is violent ableism and copaganda. Forget taking a deep dive into why exactly killing is bad, or how far a value system can go before it becomes self-serving, or storytelling imperatives or any of that. The only reason any of us could ever take Jason's side (re: the Joker) is that we, in real-life, think that "bad guys should die". Instead of the fact that because nothing works as it should in the Batverse, the Joker's continued existence actively cheapens any moral code that allows it.

You can take whatever side you want to, but get off that horse and actually engage with the question, or fuck off with the dudebros who think "killing a serial killer makes you as bad as a serial killer" has any actual ethical basis.

[necromycologist]

gotta say i love the sheer bitchiness of everybody in lockwood n co. im SERIOUS.

[get-more-bald]

the biggest thing about X6 is not that he doesn't think of himself as human (though he doesn't, and according to some it's correct) BUT that he doesn't see himself as a Person

[query-quadrant]

I've had a pitch crush on someone for a while! I really hate them! >:)

But one of our hatefriends just told me they might be pale for me? >:O

If they are, what do I do??? How do I make them hate me properly? :(

I don't pity them! I don't even know why they pity me! Or if they even really do! :?

It's really confusing and I don't want to have to reject them and then have to try and ask them out! That's not gonna go well!!! >:(

yeah i dont know that sounds awful i think personally id just die

questionable advice: either try upping the annoyingness and going all out with pitch flirting or just sit them down and just actually ask them if they pity you or not maybe youll get lucky and they dont but either way at least youll know right so that sucks a little less than not knowing

bad advice: kill their lusus maybe thatll make them really mad at you

[spoonyruncible]

I'm not gatekeeping, I just have some gates and I've sort of vaguely known they're there, I haven't kept them and the hinges are so rusty i doubt they'd close if I tried. But, like, for ages all that came through those gates were stray geese and a dog I think belongs to a neighbor but might just belong to himself and of course there's the hunching afflicted wrathbeast. That's just having a garden. Things grow there and random folks stumble in sometimes, mispronounce the names of my favorite varietals, say stunningly inaccurate things about them, and wander bemusedly back out.

As a surprise to probably no one I was a deeply lonely child. No one really got me or what my deal was, so when I found something I loved it was mine and mine alone to treasure. As I got older I found other people who liked 'my' things. Some of those people were horrible! But there was a kinship and it was okay to be a bit horrible so long as we could be odd together. Gardens are resilient things, they tolerate mistakes and abuse. It's absolutely wonderful to share, to dance to the same music, that imperfection becomes part of the joy of it, becomes a unique thing unto itself.

So imagine my shock when there is a garden party that rapidly becomes a festival. No one has ever really been here before, it's been me and the geese and that one dog and a few other weirdos. Suddenly my things, things people beat me for loving, are things everyone loves. All at once the landscape is unrecognizable and if I acknowledge that then I'm being a hipster. I don't mind the festival, it's nice, now it's much easier to get things I need without having to put on my trekking gear and hike out to the one obscure location that has The Supplies. It's not bad, it's just weird. It feels like there is something wrong with me instead of something wrong about liking what I like.

I'm not really talking about one specific thing here, there have been a lot of these moments where what used to be unusual or even shameful is now the big thing. And it's good, it's can be great sometimes even with the unforeseen bizarre bad parts. But there is this selfish little part of me that wants to cling to my unloved love, to put a raggedy LP on a barely working record player and lay on the wooden floor of my childhood home staring at a painting of a ship in a storm that is right beside a picture of a young man in a cap and a too large jacket and listen to sea shanties belted out by people not very good at singing while I drift and drift and drift away on the sound and the whitecaps to a place where there is only this. I love the new versions like a drowning man loves air, I am happy that people have found this beautiful thing and can enjoy it, but there is a tinge to it I don't like. A prick of pain every time I see this joy over my joy, over my joy that I was punished for, humiliated for, shamed for. I'm glad people can love these things without suffering but it makes my suffering seem so fucking stupid.

There is a certain temptation, a bitter agony, that makes me want to hiss like an abused cat and cling jealous to my silly little toys. It's not that I want them all for myself, it's that I can't let go of that little kid with a bruisy eye sulking because no one wants to play with him. It's the whisper of, "We can be friends but only in secret. I don't want people to know I'm like you." It's the enthusiasm that rapidly becomes muted because the whole world is demanding to know why you can't just be normal for once. But that same temptation to lash out is the one that makes me reach out my hand instead, especially to people who are like, "Wow! I've never been to a garden before. I'm gonna screw this up. How do I not screw it up?" because now they're that bruisy eyed kid no one wants to play with. I can't protect the person I used to be by becoming the exact thing that hurt me. Gotta keep the gate open, gotta get used to new things even if it takes noise cancelling headphones and an entirely rational amount of backsliding, gotta wake up every day and keep trying even though the world keeps throwing curveballs that no sane person could anticipate. It's all okay. We're in this together and we're all gonna be okay,

[randomnameless]

FE 25 :

Uwu:(...) I question the way in which our society is designed. No matter what strength a person has, it is the station he is born into that controls his destiny. And you cannot control where you will be born. Do you believe that a person of low birth should simply endure the curse of his station? I think not. If you are stronger than those around you, you should benefit from your strength. This is why I will use my strength to remake this world. Class and rank will not matter. Human and sub-human will not matter. The strong will possess everything. The weak will submit to their will. Is this not the meaning of peace? A subhuman: Are you saying that the lives of those without strength have no value?

Uwu : If after all of this you believe the weak will still be weak, that is only because they are too used to relying on others instead of on themselves. A barbarian and potential subhuman lover : There are those who cannot live without their faith... and those who cannot go on once they have lost their reason for living. Your path will not be able to save them. It is the path of the strong, and so, it could only benefit the strong.

Uwu: That is the natural order. The only way for the weak to survive is to cling to the strong. Our discussion is over. Tell me, frail little bird who cannot fight; which do you choose? Submission? Or death? A subhuman: …Life proffered to me by your hand is something I would never accept! A barbarian and potential subhuman lover : (...) I finally understand…what you believe is right.

The context is different, Dimi has a special background with Supreme Leader and is her step-brother, so it makes sense trying to reach for her and at least try to understand what is going on in her mind, than Reyson, a frail and weak laguz by birth, trying to understand and reach out for Ashnard.

But are we really supposed to think Dimi's reply here is pretty different because he personally knew his Ashnard? Or because he isn't a weak and frail thing by birth, like Reyson, so he isn't as angry or as passionate in his replies?

I know this scene plays a role in Dimitri's arc - he tries to reach out for her (hand) when he earlier only wanted to end her life, because he isn't driven by revenge or vengeance anymore and wants to save people, even Supreme Leader.

So this convo is less about Supreme Leader and more about him.

And yet, imo, this always felt sort of wrong, because while Dimitri cannot do a thing for the people who are already dead (killing Supreme Leader won't bring them back, he has to think about the living now and not to avenge the dead) - Dimitri is still talking to someone who gave means and opportunities (and fodder!) to Izuka to create Feral Ones thus most likely knows there is a Gritnea Tower around, started a war and killed thousands, was involved (as far as he knows?) in the brutal killing of his family and has pretty biased views on Laguz.

Of course in the following scenes and maps, he resolves to put an end to the war thus defeat her, and we know Supreme Leader refuses his mercy and prefers to die - but the way this development is frailed is not a straight up rejection of her POV or her so called "IdEaLs", but it's framed as a tragedy because Dimitri couldn't "save" her.

No, kill that, it's even worse :

We have no choice but to destroy each other… Such is the destiny we were born to.

Now this fight - aka Dimitri wanting to put an end to Ashnard's war - is the result of fate, and not the will/choices both parties made to reach that point (which is, in a way, hilarious, because he mentions just after his line her "iron will", so pick your horse Dimitri, is this war the result of fate/destiny, or is it due to Ashnard's "iron will"?).

Ultimately, the themes and arcs of both games are different, so it's no wonder that the solution each Lord(s) offer is different - Elincia wants to avenge her parents and justice for her dead countrymen, Reyson wants to have the right to exist even if he is a weak thing by birth, Ike is out of the loop / Dimitri wants to accept Supreme Leader and "save" her because vengeance and justice drove him to a wall and got his close father figure killed, Dimitri now wants to protect the living, even Supreme Leader herself (or at least he tries).

So even if Ashnard and Supreme Leader share the same dubious ideals, keep a lizard in cage/captivity, used feral ones and started wars - the reaction to them is different, because the Lords have different character arcs and development.

That being said, even with all his character development, would a post-Rodrigue death Dimitri who, idk, is warped in FE9's Tellius, after befriending Laguz, witnessing racism, seeing Gritnea and the "wildlife experiments", witnessing Daein's army ruining civilians, learning about Lillia, Rajaion, etc etc, would that Dimitri still have reached his hand out to Ashnard upon his defeat?

If we want to stay in Fodlan, a Dimitri who befriends Nabateans (who reveals themselves to be Nabateans!), learns about the Relics, learns about Supreme Leader's goal to free the world from their existence because their race isn't allowed to have power over humans, seeing Gritnea or at least still giving fucks about the humans who were painfully transformed in Demonic Beasts (and maybe solving the question about who are they made from, random Adrestian civilians or war prisoners?), reacting to Ferdie's paralogue, learning about Rhea's zumba lessons in her 5 stars resort, etc etc, would this Dimitri still have reached his hand out to a Supreme Leader whose core belief (or least one of them) is Nabateans shouldn't be allowed to live in Fodlan, and Faerghus and Leicester should never have existed and should return to her?

Of course the game makes it so that we will never learn the answer to that second situation, because Hresvelg Tea and whatnot, but if we want to stay true to his character arc, then AM!Dimitri would still have reached out for her hand.

A Dimitri who becomes the kind of ruler Elincia is after her arc in FE10... wouldn't have at all.

[padfootastic]

Sunday Snippet

(is that a thing? idk but i literally just wrote this for FoD and it wont be posted for a few chapters--so a couple months minimum--but i just. really wanted to share it so. enjoy)

He casually points a finger at the hideous vase behind their heads, levitating it wandlessly and wordlessly. If he was around other wix, they would’ve been amazed and perhaps, slightly awed. That it was Muggles--and this particular set at that--meant they were almost vibrating out of their skin in fear. 

Good. 

“Do you know,” he started with a pleasant smile, bringing the floating vase closer to them, enjoying the way Petunia’s mouth opened in a wordless scream. He didn't even have to Silence them. “they thought I could kill 12 people, just like that, with one word. Not one person, not even my closest friends, believed otherwise.”

Once upon a time that statement would’ve hurt, it had hurt him everytime he was conscious enough to think about it in Azkaban. But he’d made his peace with it now, had accepted that there was a part of him that was inherently repulsive, untrustworthy, broken. 

“There was a reason for why they did that. My brother--you know him, James--was murdered. They thought I lost my mind, and perhaps I did, a little bit.” 

Because James was the last--and only--person who’d never turned away from him. He’d taken all of Sirius’ ugliness, all those rough edges he’d tried so hard to hide, cutting himself and the world in the process, and kept those with himself. Sirius never had to worry about himself around James, because he knew he’d take care of him. Wouldn’t let him break. 

At least, that’s how it should have been. They should’ve grown old together, stuck at the hip until their hearts and their magic gave out. James shouldn’t have been buried in the ground at the age of twenty fucking one while Sirius still had to live without him, god, it was so unfair. 

It was--

He shouldn’t be living without James. He was nothing without James. 

It was that thought that sent a fresh wave of anger through his veins, anger he knew was very plainly visible on his face, reflecting in his eyes, because the moment he looked at the Dursleys, he could hear two distinctive whimpers at once. 

“So,” he said, voice rough like gravel, almost unrecognisable to even him. He knew his eyes would be closer to black than their usual grey, the Madness stirring within him, wanting out. “What do you think I’ll do to people, to vermin like you, who touched my godson?” 

His only response was a slow, trickling sound and a pungent smell filling the living room.