#but the physical implications are horrifying!

[multicolour-ink]

Can we just talk about how messed up the scene of Ariel being transformed into a human by Ursula really is?

Yes, it's bad enough that Ursula literally splits Ariel's tail in half to make legs; but then you remember that right afterwards she had to get up to the surface to breathe -

Which means that Ursula took away Ariel's mermaid magic that helps her breathe underwater (or whatever it is mermaids have that helps them live in water).

Can you imagine how terrified Ariel must have been? One minute she's in control - and then the next she's flailing helplessly while feeling the water suddenly coming into her lungs for the first time - about to suffocate her.

Ursula would have let Ariel drown right there if Sebastian and Flounder hadn't got her to the surface in time.

On a side note: Was Ursula planning to let her die there? She could have done so, as she already had Ariel's voice by that point. But then why did Ursula try to marry Eric? Didn't she want to rule the sea? What would tricking and seducing Eric do for her?

#tw drowning #tw suffocation #tw water #putting tw tags just in case #the horror implications of this scene is dark af #the scene is terrifying enough with ursula's laughter ringing in your ears #but the physical implications are horrifying! #the little mermaid #yes I am talking about the animated version #I haven’t seen the live action so I don't know if they added more stuff to the scene #ariel #ursula #yes I have been thinking about this scene in preparation for when I get to it in my mario au

[milliebobbyflay]

paired with their often intimate and violent subject matter, i find the incidental way tamsyn muir frames women and their bodies throughout the locked tomb series to be refreshing bordering on radical

consider harrowhark; in the first book we see her as gideon sees her. she's a hideous ghoul with a flat ass and no tits, she's a delicate sopping wet beauty with a sharp face and angel bow lips, she's a triumphant and awe inspiring master necromancer screaming and fighting drenched in her own blood. the shape and condition of her body is allowed to take on meaning contextually based entirely on the situation and how gideon feels about their relationship in any given moment

she then spends the second book hobbling around with a sword twice her size, ripping apart her body to use as a weapon and passing out in her own vomit, struggling to eat and sleep – she and puts herself through absolute hell and never once thinks anything of it, and we're made to mourn this not as the desecration of a beautiful woman but as a manifestation of a human being's despair and self loathing, and we see this specifically contrasted against the care gideon tries to take when inhabiting her body during the last act

it's jarring, in nona, when we're suddenly made aware that her body could be perceived or valued as a commodity, when pyrrha is assumed to be nona's pimp. it feels strange and horrifying when we learn alecto's form was modeled for a doll, learn that she was given a woman's body as a display of ownership, an alternative to being consumed, and as we're processing this we watch gideon, paul, and ianthe, immediately setting aside their conflict in a desperate scramble to preserve harrow's body for no reason other than because it is harrow's and they love her

feminist fiction often focuses on women's relationship to a body which is valued more than the person within it – and that is a worthy experience to explore – but as a transsexual butch(ish) dyke, i have never really had the privilege of seeing my body as a precious commodity, never felt like it couldn't or shouldn't be a sight of violence and disgust, and as a result the locked tomb books have made me feel seen in a way that few other works of fiction have?

we as an audience are not made aware of how attractive any character would be outside of the context of our lesbian POV characters' perspectives, their relationship to patriarchal beauty standards is an utterly irrelevant detail we're never told and only occasionally glimpse through implication. the women in the locked tomb books are simply free to exist, to have experiences and feelings, to love and hate and grieve and suffer and die like anybody else, and to have those experiences reflected in their physical vessels

it's a perspective that's so fundamental and obvious that to praise muir for it for it feels almost patronizing, but i also think it's a huge part of what's made the series so resonant for so many queer women and i feel that that's worthy of highlighting and celebrating

#the locked tomb #tlt meta #the locked tomb meta #harrowhark nonagesimus #gideon nav #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #tlt analysis

[tarjapearce]

Iridiscent (Pt. 5)

Pirate! Miguel O'Hara x Mermaid! Reader

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Mentions of slavery, secondary character death, introduction of characters, violence, mysticism, implicit dark rituals and black magic , mentions of blood, power dynamics, power imbalance. Whump scenarios

Summary: A purpose and a choice lays before Miguel's path.

A| N: CENTURIES after, here is our pirate ❤️ Thanks for waiting this chapter!

So far Peter had proved himself to be useful enough to keep up with the fastened peace Miguel was used to.

He didn't slack off or fell behind. If anything The Red Eyed Demon was somewhat impressed. For being a regular merchant there was surely more than met the eye. Life truly never ceased to bring a much needed dose of surprise.

They had escaped Hacienda Valverde, Miguel had to dispose of a couple of guards in the way to retrieve some ammo and other tools. However a new challenge laid ahead.

Get inside a brigantine.

"So, according to you, we just have to keep ourselves hidden until the boat comes. Then we snuck in and hide again."

Peter spoke as he crunched over the jungle's tree roots. Gun strapped to his hip and a sword on the other. Tense muscles still ached, the blows from the guards had left Miguel to handle the physical duties, giving a brief but welcomed rest to the merchant's ribs.

Miguel nodded and stopped for a moment to have a proper look at his surroundings, the familiar smell of rotten wood and moss filled in his lungs, "Basically."

The pirate mumbled as he took a better look into his milieu, unmistakably they were following the same path he took when foraying up into the Hacienda.

With a groan, he pulled Peter up the tree trunk to cross on the other side. Each landed with a heavy thud, a couple of branches crunching under their weight.

"And..." Peter heaved, "you're sure this will work because...?"

"I've done this before." The pirate cut in curtly, a subtle way to say his reluctant companion to shut up.

Peter just nodded and followed him. The soursops kept stretching until they reached some Acai trees.

"We'll need a uniform for you." Miguel glanced briefly Peter's way to then swing his machete through the foliage, ending the life of whatever plant had dared to cross his way.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Miguel sighed on Peter's surprise and turned to see him, "I'll pretend to be your prisoner. But for that we'll need an uniform."

"No offense pal, but in case you haven't noticed, I'm beaten."

Miguel shrugged nonchalantly, "Makes it more believable. They'll think you got in a fight with the slaves. Happens all the time."

This earned Miguel a disgruntled groan.

"I don't look English enough!"

Miguel deadpanned. "You're white, that's more than enough, just fake the accent and you'll be fine."

Peter's stomach flipped uncomfortably at the implication of his words. Slaves? Fights? He looking English? God forbid MJ to know about his whereabouts or his companies. He was already imagining his wife being horrified for the things he was about to do.

"You've traded slaves before?"

Miguel snapped his head at him so quickly with a glare that made Peter recoil with his hands up in defense.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

The merchant quieted down when Miguel brought a rugged finger to his lips and furrowed his brows, then moved his hand down, a signal for them to hide.

Peter swallowed as he ducked and crawled over a nearby thicket, Miguel however hid behind the tree trunk

The indistinct voices murmuring from a distance alerted the fugitives, Miguel peeked out from a standing tree and saw a small group of guards. Three in total.

One stopped in a nearby hollowed and broken trunk, unbuttoning his pants. Miguel's ever alert gaze darted to the other two that walked away a few meters to give their colleague some privacy as they discussed their next rest layoff, completely unaware of the murderous intentions stalking them.

Miguel crouched, to be eye to eye level with Peter and whispered as he handed him the hefty rope in his weathered hands.

"Take the guy in the back. I'll get the other two."

"W-Wait, what am I supposed to do with this?! Choke him?"

"Exactly. Try to not damage the uniform. He looks your size."

Peter gulped with a panic surge and sighed, "Just for you to know, I don't look-"

"Just shut the fuck up and kill that man! "

Miguel hissed, a vexed tinge in his voice as he tightened his grip on the machete and Peter gulped again. Before the merchant could protest Miguel was already prowling over the other two men.

Peter sighed and remained crouched. The soldier kept baptizing the tree with his pungent scent, earning a temporary disgusted look from the merchant.

With quiet steps, and hitched breath he ventured in through the thickets, keeping himself hidden and quiet as possible while his hands rolled and fisted on the rope.

Peter's heart hammered within his ribcage, pounding with such force his chest thrummed. Bile slowly rose in the back of his throat, he was about to kill a man after all. Something he sometimes fantasized whenever his customers were too pushy or demanding in rough seasons with his prices.

But now that he got to experience the real deal, his hands couldn't help but tremble, soft pants turned agitated the more he approached.

The soldier was too into his own musings by buttoning his pants back that felt a bit too late the rope knotting around his throat.

Peter used his back as a lever and with a sudden downward pull brought the fatheaded guard bending above his knees, hands flailing, gasping for air as he tried to remove the rope out of his obliterating neck.

The soldier's muffled and unintelligible gasps soon turned into gurgles and weakening grunts. Peter couldn't see him, yet the man's face went into a chameleon-like state as his face erupted with several shades of blue and purple while his life escaped before the quiet witnessing of mother nature.

Peter heard the other men's cries as Miguel swung his machete in their bodies, ending their lives in swift moves.

The lurid crack made the merchant to tighten his grip for a bit more, making sure the life had faded from his target.

The soldier's deadweight against his back felt like he carried a block of pure lead, no longer moving. His uniformed arms hung loosely on each side of Peter.

"He's dead." Miguel spoke in between pants as he sheathed his weapon and rolled his shoulders in, releasing some pressure from his joints.

Peter however was clutching the rope tighter, his eyes shut and his teeth baring.

"Hey!" Miguel called but his ally was far too gone. It quickly came to realization what was happening. Peter was panicking. With a sigh he approached carefully and removed the rope from his hands in a firm but mindful tug. The soldier slid down his back and fell to the floor, the overgrown grass muffled the body's fall.

"Pet-" Miguel didn't get to finish his name since the aforementioned crawled behind a tree and retched with all his might.

"O-Oh god... I just" He folded again and Miguel scrunched his nose in mild disgust. He begun examinating the fallen's bodies in search of something that deemed useful, in the meantime.

"I just killed a man." Peter gasped to then wipe his mouth with the back of his shirt.

"Congratulations." Mumbled Miguel as he gathered some ammo within a soldier's hat.

"The hell you mean congratulations?! I just killed a man!" Peter held his stomach as he slanted and panted against a tree, his head hazed with a mix of adrenaline and nausea.

"A man that wouldn't hesitate to plow some bullets into you even if you weren't a threat."

Peter just groaned and rubbed his stomach in circles, trying to soothe the gnawing anxiety within his guts.

"You'll get used to it." Added Miguel with a weak shrug, "Better get your uniform soon, we have to hide the bodies."

Peter retched a final time and Miguel groaned, annoyed, he stood and took a handkerchief from one of the soldier's pockets and waited till Peter finished to  hand the fabric piece to him, the latter wiped his mouth and heaved a deep exhale.

"You done?" Miguel's shoulders squared

Peter nodded and without much thinking Miguel slapped him, hard across his face to make all the queasiness abandon his body in a go as he stumbled to the side.

Blue eyes widened both in surprise and and anger.

"W-What the hell was that for?!" the merchant growled and stood inches away from the muscle mass and Miguel  nodded, pleased at his reaction.

"You're angry?"

"Yes! You don't go around slapping people like that!" Peter pushed him as he rubbed his cheek.

"Think that as life slapping you again. And again and again" He crouched to resume his gathering, "And again. What will you do about it?"

"If you slap me again, we'll have a problem, pal."

Miguel chuckled at Peter's sudden bravado. With a soft shake of his head he handed him a knife.

"What will you do about it?"

Peter frowned and looked straight in his eyes.

"I'll beat your ass."

Miguel huffed, and patted his shoulder a tad rough while pushing the knife further into his hands.

"Now you know what to do with the guards if you wanna see your kid again."

Ironically, Miguel had just repeated the same words Mundaca had once taught him, and always proved effective. Of course he understood Peter's discomfit for such life changing event, he had  spent the night crying after giving the foreman's a taste of his own cat 'til he died.

Night had segued in, covering the endless horizon underneath a stary blanket, the smooth back and fro motion from the dark waves, deemed a worthy sight of admiration after death provoking activities. The saltine breeze caressed the men's skin in an attempt to soothe the underlying discomfit.

Miguel and Peter had found a proper hideout, a spot nearby downhills, where they could see the port and every ship that docked down. The foliage covered them, blending their presence within their ever green density, away from local predators.

The fire cracked cozily within a circle of rocks, oozing with its warmth in every direction anyone approached. Warming up more than bodies and rattled memories.

Miguel laid down in the grass, as Peter sat before the fire that slowly cooked their meal. Some fishes and potatos they'd managed to find in another camp were deemed a proper meal for both.

Peter watched Miguel as he laid.

Strong hands and arms tucked behind his robust nape, eyes closed, almost peacefully. His rugged and cinnamon skin was embedded with faint scar lines that had blurred overtime, leaving a trail of faint white scratches that could only be prominent to the eyesight if he came close enough.

But after witnessing what he could do with his bare hands, the merchant decided he was rather fine at the current distance. His mind however brewed with so many questions his brow furrowed.

"Why did you become a pirate?"

Peter mumbled and Miguel's brows twitched in a mild pucker.

"Had nothing else to lose."

It wasn't in him to share such intimate details of himself with strangers. But Peter had been honest ever since they met, and it was only fair to share tiny bits that remained as universal truths without poking at the too personal territory.

And, au contraire of what people believed of pirate's unruly nature, they all ruled themselves by a code. Miguel respected it as much as he could, specially one of it's most basics and antiques of rules. A truth for a truth.

Peter flipped the fishes to then poke the potatos with a stick, sinking the tip in them to probe at their level of doneness.

"What will we do once in the ship?"

"We hide." Miguel explained simple, "As soon as we get inside, two things can happen." He raised a finger and Peter perked his ears.

"Or you're asked to put all the prisoners to the brig," Miguel raised another finger, "Or you're taken to another area to other duties. You know where a brig is right?"

Peter shrugged with a pout and Miguel groaned while throwing an eye rolling look his way.

"You landlubber..." he shook his head and sighed, "The brig is usually located in the lowest deck. There's no missing in it. Unless you're fucking dumb and end up in the bilge."

"You spill jargon as if I actually understand a thing. I've only been on a boat-"

"Ship." Miguel corrected, earning an irked sigh from Peter.

"I've only been on a ship three times in my life. When my mother gave birth to me, when I tried to look for a better way to keep my business afloat and when I was pressganged by the English a  few days ago. So pardon me for not being a connoisseur of a ship's anatomy."

The ramble made Miguel chuckle with derision.

"Relax, mecha corta. I really need for you to understand that no matter what, we need to get in the ship. That's the only way out we have." (Short stack)

"I know." Peter grumbled, "I just... miss my family." He admitted with a slow yet sharp bite to the fish as Miguel nodded absently.

"Haven't properly met my daughter, haven't seen my wife in almost a month."

Miguel just watched him before rising and seating. He took a impaled fish and pulled it's flesh gently with his fingers and ate in silence.

If anything, the Red Eyed Demon understood him better than anyone.

He'd understand the despair of being away, not knowing anything from his little girl for months, he'd definitely felt the disappointment in Peter's eyes. The all too familiar feeling of being a failure for not being there often weighed his mind way too many times he liked to admit.

"And now I hang out with pirates with a pissy ass attitude." Peter chuckled the last bit for himself, "Where are you from, anyways?"

"Born and raised in a Spaniard Hacienda."

Peter hummed as he munched on a roasted potato and nodded. "Born and raised in Queens, New York, USA."

"Yeah, could tell by the accent."

"Family?"

Miguel shrugged while pulling the fish's spine apart and put it within the giant leaf

"All dead."

Peter stopped in his motions to stare at him with a brief mix of surprise and disturb in his eyes.

"Sorry."

"Así es esto. Now, there's one more possible thing that can happen in the ship." (It is how it is)

Peter wiped the rest of fish on his mouth and paid undivided attention to him.

"There is a minimum chance for us to be discovered once aboard. Though minimum, is still a possibility."

"Ok."

"If we ever get discovered, don't run, don't beg and for God's sake do not jump over the board."

"So we surrender?"

Miguel nodded while eating his dinner in a few bites.

"What if they want to kill us?"

"Though that's a fifty fifty, I'm more inclined to believe they won't. My size alone always brings people's curiosity, so let's use that. You said you were a lock master, right?"

Peter nodded almost dumbly, " A locksmith. That's... my business. Yeah."

"Then, we'll be good"

"And if we don't?"

"We jump over the board."

"But you said we don't-"

"I know what I said, just do as I tell you, alright?"

"Fine."

For how long they've waited? Hours? No. Definitely days. The sun had gone up and down four times in a row. And the guards were already packing in.

Gathering and scourging for food was a a risky move, since the guards in Hacienda Valverde had found a couple of corpses the deathly duo left in their wake.

Miguel had kept him well fed and making sure he'd recover properly. If they wanted to leave, Peter had to give him the best rendition of his opposite being. He hsd to be strong, for his little girl awaiting back at home and himself.

Upon the fifth day, The both stared with keen and curious eyes the horizon. The first few english frigates docked, announcing with their sumptuous flags on top, the arrival of the HMS Amberjack. A navy galley.

Peter however smacked Miguel's chest when his eyes noticed another ship behind. This one had two flags. One black and the other a clear piece of Spain.

Miguel's brows furrowed with alarm and confusion.

"What is he doing here?" The pirate muttered under his breath upon recognizing the Spaniard captain's ship.

Another galley, piloted by none other than a famous privateer that spaniards hired whenever a route or a pirate proved themselves a nuisance for the merchants in the area.

None other than Constantino Salazar de Olivares, or infamously known as El Brujo, took the steering wheel of El Aquelarre. A galley that could easily be mistaken by the devil's ship itself, spat right out of darkness and abyss.

"You know him?" Peter quirked a brow on his annoyed reaction.

Of course Miguel knew him. Olivares was after Mundaca, and his crew. El Brujo had been on a relentless hunt for his father figure a long time ago.

"If you're dangerous enough either spaniards or english men send him for your head. But el cabrón proves himself more annoying than anything with his stupid ass beliefs."

"What's wrong with them?"

"He calls himself a sorcerer. Him being here is no good. Something's happening. If we can, we avoid him."

Peter just nodded and soon, the plan was set in motion.

They changed and practiced Peter's locksmith skills once more, before making sure he could get Miguel out of his shackles without a hitch, if the situation demanded it.

And once ready, both men made a descend downhill, threading carefully through the jungle to beckon closer into their common enemy's territory.

Miguel could sense Peter's discomfit as he pressed the weapon against his back.

"Relax. Once aboard, try to stick nearby."

The closer they got, the more men and noise they could hear.

"Round'em up boys, we gotta leave before midday!"

The captain shouted somewhere. The slaves, much to Peter's distraught, were held in chains, shackled in a bee line as they were pushed up aboard.

Miguel murmured little indications to Peter the more they ventured in everyone's radar. Bit by bit, they managed to sneak in the prisoner's registration under fake names.

They passed the first security filter without much trouble. Slowly but surely, the line grew shorter. El Aquelarre came into view and a chill ran down Miguel's spine.

It wasn't only the mysterious and supernatural aura that oozed from the black ship, but the feeling of something unknown calling him. Pulling him close like magnet. And then he saw him. Saw the man that had been chasing Mundaca for almost a decade.

Tall, dressed up in a crimson red coat, black pants and boots. A large and fat shiny feather adorning his triple black edged hat. A couple of talismans, and rhinestones necklaces adorned his tattooed neck and wrists.

Constantino was a good looking man. His eagle like nose, matched perfectly his symmetric squared face. Thin but pretty lush lips, hidden underneath a scruffy, thick beard. Bushy brows that could rival Miguel's, what stood out the most, however were his feline eyes rimmed in black.

Pale green that people often mistook for gold. Watching, ever mysterious and impassive his surroundings. A dangerous pretty man that wouldn't hesitate into sacrificing anything in the name of his beliefs. Leaning against a palm tree.

"Hold on... What was your name again?" The guard before them asked while he took Miguel by the nape and examined him.

"Johnson."

"Ah... Must be a new face 'cause I haven't see you around."

Peter scoffed nervously, "I was assigned up the state."

The guard tittered as he shoved Miguel inside, a couple of flogs were delivered by other armored men, the pirate hissed, his flesh had forgotten what was to take a taste of that whip's mean end. If anything Peter's accent was a bit too good. It suited him, sadly.

The quartermaster looked at Peter with a curious glance while circling him.

"You look familiar."

"I-I've been told I have a common face. Same for my cousin. We're-"

"Shut yer gob."

Peter obeyed as the man slapped disdainful his back. His heart beat increased a houndred per second.

"That uniform looks a bit too big on you, Pete."

The pirate looked at him, concerned despite his own pain. They were almost there. Freedom at the tip of his calloused fingers.

"Well," Peter swallowed as his eyes darted to Miguel, "Taking care of that bastard is a good workout. Specially when said fucking idiot keeps running away!"

The guard laughed merrily and squeezed his shoulders. Peter laughed and nodded with him.

"Oh, tell me about that. Chasing slaves is fun. We should get dogs to make a competition. Sadly, Pete..."

The merchant's face fell as soon as the quartermaster pulled out his gun and pointed it at Miguel.

"You'll have to go in the other ship. As much as I'd love to keep you both, and see you chasing that dumb mammoth, the brig's full. Ya get me?"

Miguel rose to his feet in a haste as the other guards tossed him outside the ship. He had to keep the calm despite the burning and scorching fury shouting to be unleashed. To teach them what he was made of.

"Tell Smith to take the rest to Olivares' ship."

"Yes, sir."

Peter didn't waste a second longer and told the guard behind, assuming he was the Smith guy, to take the remaining group of slaves towards the black and eerie ship.

He walked ahead of the group and sighed with relief, if it wasn't for his quick thinking and impersonation of a couple of his clients, who knows what would've happen.

The gun was pressed against Miguel's back and sighed

"Sorry for that. You ok?"

Miguel just nodded, a tad uncomfortable by the tingling burning in his skin and the fact that his plan was dramatically changing.

A crisp, strong and cold gust of air pushed both men forward, coaxing to approach faster. As if the universe was unable to wait a second longer for them to meet their fate and ebbed them to get inside as soon as possible.

Constantino's green eyes met Miguel's red ones for a brief second, clashing with unspoken grudge. The latter could see how El Brujo smirked as he was taken to the brig.

But little had realized Salazar that he had summoned yet another demon to his ship.

Miguel's mind was rampant. The moment he had stepped in the ship, his brain was already counting the men and recollecting as much information as he could swot on.

The guards, or rather the lack of them, made him frown. Were they on cover torturing the upcoming slaves? Probably. Or they could be in the weapon room, readying the canons and powder for defense.

Just as Miguel had said, the brig was located in the lower deck, and what he found there, churned Peter's heart with an uncomfortable stir.

Slaves. Grown men and youngsters all put in cages, like wild animals for a merciless and dehumanizing show. The ship hasn't even sailed yet, and their heads already had a price.

Each knew their fate. Spain, England even America and Cuba. Others hoped for a quick death, if the diseases and whipping on earth didn't, the injuries in their body would.

Some slaves looked up to meet their new trip colleagues with keen eyes, hoping for a novelty. And Miguel didn't disappoint. A collective round of hushed whispers in different languages echoed as he entered.

He was put on a cell with another young black man, and the rest was put in the remaining cages.

Silence reigned heavy in the brig once the guards left at haste. Curiously, if he had seen a couple of guards, was to say he'd seen too much of them. The ship was desolated. Even for a galley. But to Olivares, this seemed like another day.

Seconds and minutes dragged on too slow, but the hefty and slow steps from the darkened hall alerted the men.

All eyes could see the pair of beady glowing golden eyes, approaching, preying. The black and shiny feather on his hat waved at the beat of his walking.  Constantino was selecting the future sacrifice for his ship.

It was mandatory, since Olivares believed subjugated blood protected against all evil once in the sea.

His imposing frame blocked the view further to the darkened hall, emerging like if shadows themselves had spat him right before them. Beady and eerie eyes raked over the fine and twisted selection of men that stared back with fear. Green gold orbs glanced a little to long in Miguel's way, to then shift his eyes to a young man.

El Brujo had made his selection. With a snap of his fingers he pointed at the man and two guards came and fetched him. Needless to say the young slave fought, cried and asked for mercy. But it all fell upon deafening ears.

Miguel wasn't precisely a believer, he'd rather to not dwell too munch into things that didn't provide or granted him a purpose, food or money. But after seeing a mermaid with his own eyes, he couldn't remain completely skeptical to the mysterious ways of the world and how they wove it's intricate connections together.

The youngster was dragged away and the rest could only watch in fear silent. Making themselves as small as they could. They knew how things would end for their companion.

The rituals Constantino did, left the slaves trembling in fear. He'd start chanting in Latin, then have the man's throat slit and his blood smeared in whatever surface Olivares decided to put on, and then throw the body at the sea, to feed the monsters lurking underneath. Serving his purpose of sacrifice.

Peter returned a couple of hours later, with a disturbed and paling countenance, strong emotions surely made a show of his face.

Bile rose up his throat, like his discomfit. When he entered the brig every pair of eyes were on him as he quickly removed his coat, trying to break the link that tied him to that awful event, leaving his stained shirt with spots of long dried blood. He sat a few steps away of Miguel.

The latter didn't have to ask too much as to what had happened when Peter's hands did all the talking. There was blood in them. Dry and crusty flakes came off as the merchant rubbed them on his pants.

Olivares had ordered him to paint the ship's board with the young man's blood.

"He... He killed him." Peter stammered to then gulp the sudden lump tightening in his throat. His breath hitched.

"Of course he would. He's coo-coo on the head. He believes 'imself sorcerer or some shite like that."

The man next to him spoke, like the sacrificed man, he was young, didn't passed the nineteens, tall, lanky, some piercings on his face and tattoos on his marred and whipped flesh.

His hair was tucked back in a lose thick bun, thanks to his dreadlocks. His eyes dark, ever pondering and assessing the situation before him.

"Then how do'ya explain we survived  that... monster of storm, Hobie?!" Another man with a heavy accent spoke, and some nodded as if encouraging the questioning.

"Cause it's a sturdy ship, you twat, it's well built!. Spain has the best craftsmen in the navy." The man shrugged nonchalantly.

"He hunted down a monster!"

That perked Miguel's ears. "What monster?"

Peter and the man next to him looked with a quirked brow his way. Miguel didn't strike as someone gullible for such nonsense.

"I don't know, man. But the storm was so strong the ship nearly sinks. All we could hear was screams and some guards saying, 'we've got her.' And then? The biggest and meanest of waves start hitting and wipes half the crew!"

Miguel blinked almost dumbly. 

"This ship's hunted cause that Olivar man has made a pact with the devil."

"It's a rumor, Adé." Hobie mumbled, a little annoyed they couldn't see past superstition.

"It is not! Think about it! This famous pirate dies, and all these... mysterious things start happening at sea. Ships start sinking, waves turn bigger and bigger each storm, just cause they saw this... monster."

"Are you forgetting we nearly drown, ship an all? The sea is angry!. And since this... Captain captured whatever, it's even angrier at us. He shouldn't be a fool and trust demons to take care of us and return that thing to where it belongs!"

The other slaves nodded. Superstition was rampant in every ship Miguel visited. But again, he simply couldn't remain a non believer forever when a mermaid ate his quartermaster before him and everyone aboard his forsaken ship.

While the chained men discussed other underworld like stories, Miguel scooted closer to a much more calm Peter.

"How many men you saw?" he asked in a low, almost hushed voice.

"Like twenty five, including the captain. Most are in their barracks."

Miguel nodded with an emerging idea in his mind. The slaves were bigger than the crew itself if he could convince them to join his cause, not only would they be free, but he'd have a temporary ship to finally get his own back.

But would they follow him?

That was a significant question. If there was something life had taught him, was to preach with an example. Only then he'd get the right people to get his goal achieved.

"What're ya planning?" Hobie spoke as he kept glancing to the door.

"Excuse me?" His bushy brow quirked with disdain.

"Excused. What're ya are planning?"

Miguel remained quiet for a bit. The young man had spoken enough to prove himself a rational and quick thinker, and his knowledge of ships didn't go unnoticed.

"Escaping and seizing the ship."

Hobie couldn't help but titter quietly on Miguel's words.

"Well, break a leg, mate." He shook his head.

Miguel shrugged as Peter begun lock picking his shackles. Mirth slowly left Hobie's body, surprise and hope took over.

"Wait. wait... What are you doing?"

"Escaping, to seize the ship."

"Wait!" Hobie demanded once more, turning the whole attention the attention of the whole group towards them.

"Have you even seen the pigs outside? They're armored to the teeth! They'll kill you."

"I rather fuck around to find out than dying to a man's madness, boy."

The shackles embracing his wrist possessively, fell to the floor. Defeated.

"Will you get us out of here?"

"Please! Get us out!"

The slaves begun pleading, raising their voices and Miguel roared with his commanding voice.

"Cállense!" (Shut up)

Peter looked outside the door as quiet returned to the brig. With a deep inhale, Miguel spoke.

"If we want to get out, you'll listen. Understood?

Mostly nodded.

"I can't free you out just yet." Some faces fell, other sighed with resignation, "I need to confirm the information first, we need to be careful. If we get caught, we all die. Simple as that."

"How can we know this white man won't sell us out?"

Another collective rounds of nodding flooded the future crew.

"Cause he was beaten and press ganged by the english too. He's a merchant not a guard."

"And a locksmith." Peter quipped, trying to clean his sudden reputation.

"You said the waves wiped half the crew right?" the man nodded, "Peter here says it's twenty five men in total, including the captain."

"We're more than them?" Hobie asked, nonplussed for a second.

"Apparently. That's why I wanna go and see myself, cause if it's true, we can take this ship to ourselves."

"Now you're the crazy one." Another man spoke.

Miguel's brows furrowed with annoyance, tired of the pessimistic thinking when the chance laid obvious and ahead of them.

"I'll make it simple for you. If we don't succeed we'll get to either Spain, England or Cuba, where each of you will get at much three hundred for your head, if you're not injured." Some men recoiled at the information,

"Some won't even endure the first month of labor under the english. You think Spaniards and Cuban are bad? Wait for you to be at the hands of British."

He stood and Peter opened the door's cell. His true seize standing proud among the rest. Some gasped.

"If you want a number define your value, be my guest. The less useless in my way, the better." Miguel smoothed his wrists and moved them to stretch his fingers.

"But if you want to live and experience life out of those shackles, you'll wait till I return and act like nothing happened in the meantime, understood?"

Hobie chuckled and nodded. The rest followed with a new sense of renewed hope.

"Aye, sir." He saluted.

Sneaking out wasn't hard, but keeping himself hidden proved to be rather tricky.

Narrow and wooden halls extended left and right, and after what it felt hours he cleared the weaponry room, seizing some for himself. A short ranged knife and a rope. The pistols would be fetched later, when the heist would start. For now, he'd need to be as quiet as possible.

The brig was the extension of the armory. Canons and rifles laid in every direction his eyes landed. All left behind by a wiped crew.

The creaking door however made him hide under the gunpowder barrels, the tinkering of rhinestones and talismans made his breath hitch. He saw Salazar going further the room, and then he disappeared in plain sight.

Confused, Miguel snuck closer and he pressed an ear on the wall.

There were definitely steps and voices. Salazar spoke, and another door was opened.

How could he disappear and be in another place?

His brows puckered and soon his hands pressed against the wall. Taunting and feeling for any irregularity in it. A little current of air flowing in a side made him blink.

A hidden passage. Of course.

He pushed the apparent sturdy wall and to his surprise it budged enough to create an opening to another hall. He sidled inside and hid behind some boxes.

He could see the hall empty, candle lit by the lamps etched to the walls. Floor damp, the saline water pungent.

Was he on the bilge?

Salazar's feather bounced as he walked behind the sturdy door. There was no room for doubts.

With careful steps he approached the end of the hall and snuck in last minute before the door closed with a loud thud.

He hid once more under a pile of musty ropes and ammo. The room was lit up in a cold hue of blue. The crystal-like resin Constantino used to lit the lamp, sparked in a pale blue and aqua sparks, cracking merrily as the fire consumed it within the translucent goblet, amplifying the magnitude of the illumination.

"Cuando lleguemos, la reina no tendrá más opción que darme todo lo que le pida. Ya que te rehúsas a cumplir mis deseos, veremos si desafías a la corona." (When we arrive? The queen will have no choice but to give me everything I ask for. Since you refuse to grant my wishes, let's see if you refuse The Crown)

Miguel could see Olivares from a slit between the ropes.

A deaf thud echoed and Salazar let out an ominous yet rich laugh. Way too entertained.

"Aunque me encantaría que me consumas, aún tengo otros planes en mente." (Although I'd love to be consumed by you, I've still got other plans in mind for you)

Without much say, Olivares left after turning off the resin again. Letting the room to drown in darkness once more.

When Miguel was sure none would come again, he stepped out of his hiding spot and approached the goblet, he had no immediate fire, but knew how to start one. It was one of the first things Mundaca taught him.

He took two pieces of resin and crashed them together until sparks flew again. Illuminating the room with the soft blue hue again.

The clinking of chains demanded his attention. And his heart nearly stopped at the sight.

It couldn't be, could it?

Cruelly chained by your neck and wrists, with heavy links attached to the floor, allowing minimum movement. A hook trespassed the fin of your tail, nearby it's start, holding you in place from a corner.

Defeated, beaten and bleeding; trapped behind thick walls of glass that provided a clear image of your overall state.

Tortured and injured.

You were real. Mermaids were real. And they bled.

You bled.

He didn't have to repeat himself that they weren't real to try and justify your mere existence. Not when you laid before his eyes. Subjugated, demoralized and meek. A demure creature far too different from the monster he met at the ship.

But instead of feeling joy and that twisted sense of pride for a fellow human to have captured you and had your will broken, something else nested in his chest.

Compassion and confusion.

How had Constantino achieved his younger self's dream? How was this possible?

He stepped closer and his breath hitched for a second time. For once in forever, your eyes met his.

Acknowledging eachother.

Taglist:

@nerdykat @munixumai @raiirai @sarapaprikas-blog @deputy-videogamer @rizahawkeye1380 @littlenyx @marit332 @iz-iplier @mad-hatter-rici @viriexo @obi-mom-kenobi @allysunny @lishdfish @not-ur-average-fangirl @freehentai @darksidecorner @winteringfalls @ellasarich @eustashh @nyxismoon @murnsondock @pluviophilis @oooof-ifellforyou @oharasmommymilkers00 @plusultrayokai @teacoffeeflavored @ctizu1 @dickfartcheesy @s0lm1n @vonev @iwumrndbm @azuredragonstrike @Iyykeyyy @arrozyfrijoles23 @frompeach @ghostlyworld @liamdasimp @straw-berry-ghoul @migshusben @nediks

#t writes✨ #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #iridiscent #pirate!au #Pirate! Miguel

[marley-manson]

Hawkeye and Frank are the two most diametrically opposed characters on Mash. They clash politically, ideologically, emotionally, intellectually, and even physically on more than one occasion. There is virtually nothing they agree on. But they do have one significant similarity: both Hawkeye and Frank are notably, pointedly effeminate.

Hawkeye is the central protagonist, so he's written to be likeable, even admirable, especially in the first five seasons of the show when satire dominated rather than character drama. He's the character who makes the correct political points and voices the show's ideology, and male audience members are encouraged to identify with him and aspire to be like him. He's witty, he's smart, he's charismatic, he dodges consequences a lot, he's highly skilled in his work, and he has a strong personality and natural leadership qualities.

Frank is the main antagonist up until the end of season five. He's written for audiences to hate him, mock him, and occasionally be horrified by him. He's dull-witted, incompetent, awkward, easily led and manipulated, and always gets his comeuppance. Few audience members are likely to aspire to be more like Frank Burns.

And yet, while most likeable protagonist/detestable antagonist duos in American popular media would also be differentiated in terms of gender performance as a matter of course - the effeminate villain being a standard stock character, always set against a ruggedly masculine hero - Mash takes a different approach.

From his core personality as a sniveling, weak-willed follower, to the way other characters, including Hawkeye, routinely make fun of him by comparing him to a woman or insinuating that he's gay, Frank Burns certainly fits the part of weak, emasculated villain. What's more interesting, and much less commonly seen in Hollywood media, is that Hawkeye is portrayed as just as unmanly, and just as, if not more prone to having it pointed out in the show.

Often Hawkeye's jokes at Frank's expense include the implication that Hawkeye is attracted to him himself, and not necessarily as "the man." He jokes, "Guess it's a marriage, Frank. I know I can do better, but at my age, can I wait?" in Hawkeye, Get Your Gun; he switches from calling Frank one of his vampire brides to taking the feminine part in post-coital pillow talk after siphoning his blood in Germ Warfare; he kisses or tells Frank to kiss him in Major Fred C. Dobbs, For the Good of the Outfit, and Bulletin Board, etc.

Other times, the jokes Hawkeye makes about himself are virtually identical to the jokes made at Frank's expense - their respective attractions to Margaret as a potentially dominant sexual partner, eg, with both Frank and Hawkeye portrayed as eagerly submissive. For instance, in 5 O'Clock Charlie Hawkeye jokes about tying Frank to Margaret's tent, then dismisses the thought with, "He'd probably love it. I know I would." And Hawkeye/Trapper and Frank/Margaret are sometimes paralleled as dual couples, Hawkeye and Frank usually being framed as the more feminine partner in each.

And of course, unconnected to Frank, there are many, many more examples of Hawkeye's effeminacy, both in jokes and in personality traits.

Hawkeye is a self-professed coward who is loud and proud about how terrified he is to be stuck in a war zone. He's emotionally open and highly empathetic, always willing to listen to others' problems and discuss (or scream about) his own. He abhors institutional violence and faces every enemy combatant with his hands firmly in the air. When authority is thrust upon him he strives to relinquish it, and uses it as little as possible.

More shallowly, he has little interest in sports and exercise, derides masculine hobby magazines like Field and Stream and Popular Mechanics, is incapable of performing mechanical tasks to the exasperation of others at least four times (Comrades in Arms which explicitly frames this emasculating, In Love and War, Patent 4077, and Hey, Look Me Over), mocks traditional masculinity in many ways, and enjoys musical theatre and Hollywood gossip. And he makes and takes literally hundreds of jokes about being unmanly and having sex with men himself, many more than he makes at Frank's expense.

But while the jokes are at Frank's expense and meant to belittle him, they're rarely made at Hawkeye's expense, especially in the first five seasons. Hawkeye doesn't make the jokes out of self-deprecation, he makes them out of pride and a desire to differentiate himself from the army men he's surrounded by. He's almost always in on the jokes others make about him, rather than offended - Potter telling him to file a paternity suit against his rival in Hepatitis makes him laugh delightedly, and Trapper's remarks on his effeminacy, such as Miz Hawkeye in Hot Lips and Empty Arms, are sometimes lightly teasing but always a regular aspect of their dynamic that Hawkeye enjoys playing up. Frank doesn't make any jokes directly mocking Hawkeye's masculinity that I can recall, beyond vague "pervert" and "degenerate" remarks, which, while often historically homophobic, in the show's context tend to be treated as a reference to his heterosexual endeavours.

Frank's effeminacy is a point of mockery and derision, but Hawkeye's is a point of pride, and not intended to make him any less likeable to an audience. Antagonists don't get to score points off of Hawkeye by mocking his feminine traits, but Hawkeye makes fun of Frank regularly by mocking his feminine traits.

This difference in framing can partially be explained by the nature of their respective gender performances.

While Hawkeye and Frank are both effeminate, they're effeminate in many opposite ways. Frank is weak-willed while Hawkeye is strong-willed. Frank is unappealing to most women, while Hawkeye is something of a lady's man. Frank cannot face his fears to rise to a challenge, but Hawkeye can. But on the flipside, Frank refuses to admit to fear while Hawkeye openly proclaims it. Frank strives to attain authority while Hawkeye refuses it or takes it on only begrudgingly. Frank is obsessed with guns to a freudian extent while one of Hawkeye's most famous monologues of the show is a speech about refusing to carry one. Frank worships the concept of traditional masculinity even while he can't perform it himself, while Hawkeye mocks the concept and would refuse to perform it even if he could.

The Sniper is an excellent case study of these contrasts. In this episode, Hawkeye is effeminate and at ease with it, while Frank is desperate to prove himself masculine. Frank and Margaret flirt with strong Freudian overtones while Frank shoots a gun while nearby Hawkeye flirts with with a nurse with a line about "tasting" her. Hawkeye connects with the nurse he's wooing by relating to how scared she is and huddling in fear with her, while Margaret demands that Frank prove his masculinity by going out and taking down the sniper himself. Frank carries a gun while trying to approach the sniper, while Hawkeye carries a white flag. Frank tries to make fun of Hawkeye for wanting to surrender, but he can't bring himself to approach the sniper while Hawkeye does.

This contrast of gender performance is a consistent aspect of Hawkeye and Frank's dynamic throughout the show, but The Sniper makes it a central theme so it's a useful example to show how their relationships to masculinity are a deliberate aspect of their dynamic.

And while Hawkeye makes fun of Frank's femininity, it's significant that he also regularly makes fun of Frank's masculinity - his love of guns (eg The Sniper), his sexual affairs (eg the exchange about Frank as a "fantastic performer" in Yankee Doodle Doctor), his numerous attempts to exert authority (eg Welcome to Korea), his desire for socially approved success (eg Hot Lips and Empty Arms), etc.

Both masculine and feminine sides of Frank are comprised of negative character traits, while Hawkeye embodies the best of both - emotional expression and healthy ways of coping by talking about his feelings; bravery but not machismo; intelligence and skill as a doctor rather than an officer; empathy and a willingness to listen; sexual prowess but largely through his love of foreplay rather than his dick game (which, in the context of the early 70s, is a somewhat feminine attribute that distinguishes him from a typical traditionally masculine man); etc.

Hawkeye demonstrates some of the most appealing and healthy qualities of both masculinity and femininity while Frank demonstrates, or strives to demonstrate, the more toxic qualities of both. Through including a few positive masculine traits in the mix, the narrative is able to depict Hawkeye as likeable, admirable, and desirable in his effeminacy while Frank is depicted as loathesome in his. Hawkeye gets one of many, many women in The Sniper by showing vulnerability, while Frank only appeals to Margaret, and Margaret is portrayed as borderline pathological in her sexual attraction to violent masculinity (the scene where Frank excites her with his gun, for example, also includes an electra complex joke, and there's a running rape kink gag in this episode as well).

Another aspect to consider when it comes to differentiating Hawkeye and Frank's respective femininities is hypocrisy. Similar to how Frank and Margaret's affair is mocked because they can't admit to it while Hawkeye and Trapper's affairs are glorified, part of what makes Frank's effeminacy so mock-worthy, while Hawkeye's feminine qualities are a source of pride and rebellion, is that Frank refuses to admit to them.

Frank desperately wants to be the ideal heroic army man and often play-acts the part, poorly. When Hawkeye mocks him by calling him a woman, for example, he's drawing attention to Frank's failure to live up to his own ideals. And when Hawkeye calls himself a woman, he's mocking those same ideals. The message is that Frank is pathetic not so much for failing to be traditionally masculine, but for wanting to be traditionally masculine at all.

Ultimately the ways Hawkeye and Frank perform masculinity and femininity are pointedly in opposition, from which masc and fem traits they embody, to how proudly they embody them. The show itself draws attention to these gendered similarities and differences between Frank and Hawkeye through a constant barrage of jokes, and even whole scenes and episodes. In this way the show portrays Frank as a hypocritical loser who wants to be masculine but fails to embody all but the worst traits, and Hawkeye as a cool, admirable guy who disdains the traditional pillars of masculinity and embraces his own effeminacy.

#mash #marley on mash #mash gen #mash gs #frank mash #hawkeye mash #since you guys liked that trapper gender meta a lot more than i thought you would here have another one #though this is written a little less formally lol #i have more examples of whole scenes that make these comparisons than just the sniper but i'm trying to keep this from being #even longer than it already is #but eg white gold is another good example wrt how they relate to flagg; yankee doodle doctor; army navy game; george; the gun; etc etc #(also it's interesting that when frank leaves hawkeye gets the pathetic loser portrayal more often... though i think that's a coincidence #the shift from early to late mash could be yet another essay on mash and gender lol) #long post

[novafire-is-thinking]

Speculative Analysis: Why TFP Soundwave is so Terrifying to His Fellow Cybertronians

Time for an essay on why I think TFP Soundwave might have chosen his current cryptid form—electrical tentacles and all. There’s a TL;DR at the end, so feel free to scroll down first and then decide if you want to read the full thing.

This will involve cross-continuity speculation, centered around TFP / Aligned but with some IDW / MTMTE lore thrown in. This could also loosely apply to Bayverse Soundwave, but I won’t be focusing on him. I’m confident you all can infer the potential implications for that version of his character by the time you reach the end.

Okay, so I’ve seen several fellow TFP fans speculate about why Soundwave went from beefy gladiator to bonafide cryptid. Some say it could have been due to the loss of his horde of “minicons” (the term used in ‘Exodus’ by Alex Irvine). Others think it was just Soundwave’s way of adapting to the direction of the war by taking on a form that would give him the best strategic advantage in his position as Megatron’s communications officer. I agree with the latter, but I think there could be more to it than that.

As we see in the flashback for Ratchet’s story and the TFP Titan comics, Soundwave had his current frame type, armor, and alt mode back on Cybertron:

[Sarcastic Soundwave: Superior]

In the real world, Soundwave’s design is based on the MQ-9 Reaper military drone—an earth-based aircraft, but I’m not going to address that small discrepancy since it’s not relevant to this analysis. Skinny, cryptid drone Soundwave existing prior to his arrival on earth supports my theory anyway.

“Can’t we throw a tarp over him? He’s creepin’ me out.”

-Bulkhead in Minus One

On the surface, Bulkhead’s comment and Smokescreen’s subsequent response seem like an interaction between a couple of Autobots who are unnerved because they’re familiar with Soundwave’s reputation—Bulkhead more so than Smokescreen since the latter had probably not seen Soundwave up close in action before coming to earth. However, I think some of Bulkhead’s fear might have been due to an entirely different reason: Sparkeaters.

While reading MTMTE #3, my eyes were met with this lovely sight /s :

[Hey, wasn’t the energon eater in Rescue Bots called “Sparky” too? I guess it’s a cross-continuity tradition to call life-sucking parasites “Sparky” at least once.]

Terrifying? Yes. But I stared in horrified awe at this abomination and thought, “Wait. One. Fragging. Minute. I’m having a galaxy brain moment.”

Mind. Blown. Their overall sharp, jagged appearance, their thin, but formidable frames, their prehensile cables extending from somewhere inside (fuel lines for the sparkeater; multipurpose tentacles for Soundwave). I was—and still am—fascinated by the uncanny resemblance.

[Now who’s Sparky?]

It’s true that sparkeaters aren’t confirmed to be canon in the Aligned continuity, but their existence isn’t denied either. We got something similar with the zombie Terrorcons, but those were a new phenomenon produced either by Megatron’s blind ambition and stupidity or Knockout and Starscream’s lack of forethought and scientific restraint. For the sake of where I’m taking this, let’s assume that sparkeaters, as defined by IDW, do exist in the Aligned universe. What would this mean for Soundwave’s disturbing choice of frame/body type? Why choose a visual motif so strongly associated with death and disease?

One word: Mimicry

Mythologically, historically, and medically, sparkeaters are inseparable from death and disease. Their very existence instills fear in most Cybertronians. What better way for Soundwave to strike terror into the sparks of his enemies (and potential enemies) than to take on a physical form that resembles the sparkeater—something that has been known to kill normal Cybertronians using a deeply disturbing, painful, and even sacrilegious method? Even though the initial shock of seeing a “sparkeater” show up during or around a fight would have dissipated once the Autobots realized it was mostly cosmetic, an impression would have been left. Coupled with his spy capabilities and gladiator-style prowess in combat, a message would have been sent: Be afraid. Be VERY afraid.

And there you have it, folks! Another reason to love Soundwave’s design.

Bonus:

I could see Soundwave being called a few things by allies and enemies alike: “The Decepticon Sparkeater,” “Soundwave the Sparkeater,” or just “The Sparkeater.”

An interaction between two Autobot scouts:

Scout 1, over comms: “You there, kid? Who is it? Who did Megatron send this time?”

Scout 2: “It’s The Sparkeater! He’s here!”

1: “You mean Soundwave!? Do you have a visual?”

2: “How many ‘Cons do we see walkin’ around looking like sparkeaters??? Of course it’s Soundwave! And yeah, I’ve got a visual.”

1: “Aw, hell. Things just got a whole lot more complicated.”

TL;DR: Soundwave may have put more thought into his appearance than is obvious. He may have opted to look like a sparkeater as a way of sending a highly effective warning.

#transformers prime #maccadam #tfp #tfp theory #tfp analysis #tfp meta #what if: cross continuity edition #tfp soundwave #//superior// #the phoenix of kaon #soundwave superior #idw transformers #tf idw #idw1 #MTMTE #robogore #sparkeaters #long post #nova’s nerding out again

[bonesfool]

Can’t stop thinking about this post and it’s implications.

I know it’s a joke but HAVE we seen Tula eat? She’s always making sure her family, her children are fed, but I don’t remember any explicit mention of her taking any food for herself. We know she almost never sleeps, and it’s been laughed off as her being a single mom that works two jobs.

But how horrifying is it to learn that in order to keep up the momentous task of being a single mother, you literally have to climb out of your grave and just keep going? That when you have children, not even death stops your devotion and the subsequent responsibilities. She is the perfect mom not in spite of being dead but because she is, because she has no physical needs of her own to tend to

#burrow's end #d20 #d20 tula #tula burrows end #guy who thesised on intensive motherhood #goes crazy when a character is an intensive mother

[drac-kool-aid]

Oh, hey, this is downright chilling:

Jonathan explicitly hangs his crucifix that he knows provides at least some protection from Dracula over his bed.

He has not made mention of anything specific to do with his dreams, but they frighten him enough that he has taken his one safety net off his physical person and placed it on his bed.

In-story, we have had no instance to suggest to Jonathan that the crucifix will protect him from the more nebulous supernatural terrors of Dracula, but he knows it will repel Dracula's physical person.

And, Dracula has already entered his room when he was supposed to be sleeping.

The implications are horrifying.

#dracula daily #re: dracula #jonathan harker #dracula #im not okay about this #this read through is taking things from implication to terrifying reality

[morgan-the-lonely-brick]

I have thoughts about the clip and especially about Fang and generally all of the scene so yeah, an analysis-like tangent full of spoilers below cut

Out of the entire crew, I think Fang and Frenchie (especially Fang) are literally the best people to recieve comfort from. It's double true for Izzy.

Not only do they have like. The least invasive and violent trauma out of the crew, but they're both very empathetic and want to help others in distress. Even when that person isn't a particular ray of sunshine... like Izzy.

It also makes sense for Fang to be the main comforter. He knows Izzy. He's known him for a long while. And he's known Blackbeard for a long while too.

Watching him from the beginning of the clip, he seems to be the first one to notice Izzy's not feeling great. Far before the others do!

This is the first we directly see Fang in the clip and yeah he looks surprised that they're throwing loot overboard - as you should be but... even more than that he looks ALARMED. He knows something's up.

After listening to Izzy for a few seconds he is completely sure something's up. He checks in with Frenchie to know if he's seeing it too. We don't know where Frenchie is looking, but I'd assume he reciprocates the look.

Izzy stops mid-sentence. That's not like him. The others will have noticed it too now. Sure enough, here's Jim, thoroughly confused and/or taken aback at least.

Fang protection mode ACTIVATE! His first thought is to ask how Izzy's doing (i am so soft for them oh my god-) and to touch him - reassure him. Ground him.

we then get a "I'm fine, unhand me" which Fang does, to give Izzy some space and checks in again with a "you really don't seem fine". He waits for Izzy's response. He wants to make SURE Izzy's okay, or rather, is patiently waiting for him to admit that he's not.

The others join in saying that they've noticed. They've noticed how destructive his relationship with Ed is. I can't even imagine what's running through Izzy's mind at this moment. Probably like a waterfall of emotion - shame and anger and sadness and everything is too much - he's soon to break. He's trying so hard to hold it back, but he can't. He can't, when the truth is being thrown directly at his face by his own crewmates.

Frenchie comments "he's cut off at least two more of your toes hasn't he?" and Izzy almost flinches at that sentence. He quivers. That's his breaking point. And I. have to stop a bit to look at the implications of this. Form this scene at least, I understood taht when Izzy fails to make the crew follow orders, he gets physically punished. As we heard earlier: "It is your job to f-" *he stops, he shakes slightly* he's thinking about the consequences of them not following his orders - more of his toes cut off. That's horrifying. I'd start crying too, jesus...

Fang knows it's his breaking point and goes back to comfort him - even forcing it a bit on him, because he knows Izzy will struggle, but needs it. God, does he need it. He's always pushing people away, but Fang won't let him this time. He won't let himself be pushed away, because he cares. And he wants to show Izzy that he cares. So he persists.

And after only a few seconds of a very feeble struggle, Izzy accepts it. He's been strong for so long. He's been brave and hurting and isolated and repressed for so. So long. And he needs to let go. And he does. He whimpers. He sounds like a puppy who's been kicked. And he is. He is a puppy. A puppy that's been severely hurt and doesn't WANT to be hurt anymore. (god, i am weak at the knees, someone call the ambulace, i think i'm dying)

Frenchie steps in as secondary comfort to show that Izzy's really not alone in this and that none of them actually hate him. Even if he thinks he deserves it. Not even Stede's former crew hate him. That's what Frenchie represents here - to me. Fang and frenchie together show him that love isn't meant to hurt so much. It's not meant to be like this. And they also ground him in that moment. Izzy looks at Frenchie several times as he whimpers, perhaps checking in - seeing if Frenchie leaves after seeing him weak. But he doesn't. He stayes and he waits for Izzy to be okay and I think that means the world to Izzy. It means the world to me too. Izzy deserves all the comfort by this point.

Also I want to throw Edward overboard.

11/10 i need Izzy to have more hugs

#boooo edward! booo!!! #how dare he #ofmd #ofmd spoilers #ofmd season 2 spoilers #ofmd 2 #izzy my baby my puppy <3 #hurt/comfort #emotional hurt/comfort #whump #emotional whump #izzy hands #ofmd izzy

[fanfic-obsessed]

Kaminoans Save

I was thinking this morning about the Kamioans. Specifically the Kaminoans as businessbeings and that their business is cloning. Also on their isolation and the implications that they do not have the knowledge base to understand sentients that are not Kaminoan. Two parts of that, of course, the likelihood that their business is built on cloning non sentients (so they are used to providing for the physical requirements of different species but are not used to the increased psychological needs of so called sentient species) and the sheer timeframe of the GAR cloning project (most projects have their clones sent to their clients in their infancy, thus the psychological needs fall on the clients). From these musings an AU was born. 

We do have to start with the understanding that the Kaminoans in this do not know about Operation Knightfall or Order 66. This project was sold to them as a straight contract (even the chips were provided as an addendum in the contract. The Kaminoans believe that it serves as a way to tell who is a Force User-which technically it does) by the Jedi.  They believe that special dispensation has been granted by the Republic to clone sentients with the aim of potentially changing the law (provided that the Kaminoans can prove that there is an ethical way to clone sentients), which would serve to triple or quadruple their business. 

From that perspective not only do the Kaminoans want the clones to be seen as sentient, they want them to be as individual as possible within the contract (They have still been contracted to grow an army, which does come with restrictions on both individuality and agency). They want the clones to be different from Jango Fett, to prove that what they do is more than a copy.   They are still assigned numbers at birth, but the clones are taught from a young age by the Kaminoans that it is so the clones themselves can find their own names. There is still the double aging through childhood but it is in he best interest of the Kaminoans for it to slow down to regular, or even slower, once the Clones reach peak physical and mental maturity (roughly mid to late 20’s)

Now it is not all sunshine and roses in this universe for the Clones. As the Kaminoans know little about human psychology and the needs of growing humans, Jango Fett (as the genetic progenitor) is contracted to find trainers for the clone army.  Jango Fett is very much on board with Operation knightfall and Order 66. He and most of his trainers see the clones as the meat droids they plan for them to be. There is still decommissioning even if not as frequent(there is no reconditioning, though as that required tech from the Kaminoans, who want to encourage uniqueness for business reasons). The Kaminoans do not realize that the training program and the way that the Clones are treated by the trainers are unusual or abusive for humans for years.  

They are primarily scientists, however, and many begin to notice that Boba Fett was treated significantly differently than the other clones, even taking into account that he does not age as fast (When he is five, he is not being treated like the physically five year olds for instance). At first there are attempts to get answers from the trainers and Jango Fett, who shut all inquiries down.  Like all scientists who are presented with a puzzle (the difference in treatment between Boba and the other clones, and -once they noticed it- how some trainers seem to be treating the clones differently), as a people they start to research human psychology and child rearing. The more business minded of the species like the idea that the next time they get a project like this they will not have to outsource these parts, as it would be cheaper.

The results horrify them, from the research it is clear that the trainers are going to ruin the clones. This was the Kaminoans' livelihood, their reputation.  The clones were their finest creations; each one unique, adaptable, and self aware enough to find solutions for their own shortcomings. The Kaminoans were damned proud of the clones, and did not want to be held responsible for the, clearly, substandard training they were receiving. 

They did not even try to correct Jango Fett or the Trainers. Instead Lama Su reached out to the Jedi, not the Jedi that contracted them of the ‘Jedi’ that they had been dealing with, but the High Council in 977 ARR (23BBY, or a year the clone wars would have started. I need it to be specifically then for Codywan reasons. If Cody is aging double than in 977 ARR, he would be physically and mentally 18, though to me the CodyWan would still not happen for a few years, I personally would be a bit uncomfortable with them meeting much earlier than that; but that is a personal preference). He sends an official complaint that the methods of the trainers ‘hired by the Jedi’ were going to ruin their order. The High Council, confused but feeling like they should not admit it, arranges for a small group to travel to Kamino to ‘discuss the matter and take appropriate action’.  They ask that the Kaminoan not speak of their arrival to the trainers, just in case. 

This group includes Mace Windu, Ki Adi Mundi, Obi Wan Kenobi (as it is generally accepted that his missions go weird and he is one of the best equipped to deal with weird), Anakin Skywalker (as Obi Wan’s Padawan), and Healer Stass Allie. 

The Jedi meet with Lama Su. They ask for him to tell them what is happening ‘as if they did not know about the contract’ to make sure they are not missing any information.  Lama Su does, going over the entire contract, producing the signed waivers (including several that appeared to be signed by the chancellor himself), the contract, who they had made the contract with (Master Sifo-Dyas, in the last days of his tenure on the High Council-where he did have the authority to put in the order for he Clones without telling anyone), who they had been dealing with for the last few year (‘Master’ Tyranus- the Fallen Yan Dooku),  and what the payment was to be (as they were to be paid on delivery). Then what the trainers are doing to the clones and how they(the Kaminoans) had just discovered the damage to their work (As they not only prided themselves on their work but also hoped that this would open up a new industry for them, they take that seriously).

At the end, Mace Windu is quiet for a really long moment before going “It’s clear the contract you signed was made in good faith on your end. However, Master Sifo-Dyas did not make this contract in good faith, and we have no record of Master Tyranus. We will honor the deal you made, you will get paid for the entire amount you were promised. There are going to be some changes, though, because we did not know about this project. I have no doubt about your process, but it is clear that someone wants to sabotage your efforts”

Anakin pipes up before they can go any further, his eyes distant. “They should be paid now, so that no one else can claim the clones belong to them.”

Lama Su is assuaged that they will get paid at least (the cost will drain the Jedi’s discretionary fund and mean that Mace will be sending a dozen Jedi to gamble to refill it again) and willing to make the changes the client suggests. 

Windu asks about the not yet decanted, can the process be paused while the Jedi evaluate.  Once the growth process has started, it cannot be stopped without harming the children in the tubes. Windu nods, and says to finish the growth process for any Tubes that have already been started but to not start any more and that the healer Allie Stass will be remaining to learn their process for decanting (When the chips are mentioned, along with their purported purpose Windu makes it clear that the chips should not be implanted in any more clones, and they would like a sample of the chip to study to see if they needed to remove it from already decanted clones). Military training was to cease immediately, as the Jedi are not legally allowed to have an army.  Instead the Council would be giving some aptitude and interest tests so they can start figuring out how to best assist the clone in finding what they want to do. The Jedi Order would be taking custody of all of the clones, decanted and not, and bringing them to the temple on Coruscant but it would take time to arrange. In the meantime Windu and Obi Wan would be going to bond with the current set of trainers. Obi Wan and Anakin would be staying as part of an oversight process and starting to prepare the clones to move off of Kamino. 

Just before leaving Mundi asks permission to get the Kaminoan in touch with his people. They have no way of knowing if the sentient cloning could continue (Frankly they have no idea how many of those waivers were legitimate, though they did believe Kaminoans believed them to be legitimate). But by nature the Kaminoans were superb geneticists and there had been too few males born to his people for generations. 

So the Kaminoans did end up getting more business after all.

#kamino #the clones deserved better #star wars the clone wars #obi wan kenobi #codywan #lama su #mace windu #Allie Stass #anakin skywalker #star wars au #fanfiction prompt #star wars

[sg-l]

👏🏻 Curse!Gojo 👏🏻 Curse!Gojo 👏🏻 Curse!Gojo 👏🏻

What's his way of showing you affection in this new cursed form? We talked about how he'd be a lap dog but like....is he just laying on top of you from time to time bc he loves you and needs to see your face??

Elaborate for the peeps in the back ☺️

- 🦦

・curse!Satoru Gojo Headcanons・

a/n・I'm so bad at formulating headcanons you know this?? also how did you find an otter emoji?? Fandom・Jujutsu Kaisen Character(s)・Satoru Gojo Tags・sloppy headcanons, curse!Gojo AU, fluff, unedited

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

curse!Gojo is...enormous

lets just get the physical implications of cursing the strongest jujutsu sorcerer in the world because curse!Gojo is...a lot

both in personality as well as sheer size and monstrous appearance

think...cursed Howl Pendragon, meets gluttonous No Face's limbs, owlbeast Eda Clawthorn shape with owlbeast Lilth Clawthron color palette and retractable neck

and I fully headcanon him as having no physical appearance of eyes/nose etc but a black banding around where his eyes should be and the rest of his faceless head is a very large un-hingable jaw with the rest of his face being "splashed" in white before transitioning to the bulk of his dark body

ok ok ok enough about the way the curse looks; and more about the way he acts!

like most cursed souls curse!Gojo is dangerously obsessed with you

you are his only purpose in life as well as the only thing tying him to a physical "life" and his animal instinct will not let that bond be broken no matter the cost

curse!Gojo basically feels no pain and it's scarier to see in action than it is to just think he's a stubborn fighter

he is insanely affectionate; to the point it's smothering

ideally he'd be sealed away in a cursed object but nothing can hold all of him (to no one's surprise)

so that being said curse!Gojo does at time have the annoying nuances of a shikigami or a familiar but make it 1000x worse

giant lap dog 🤝 pissy cat 🤝 needy brat

curse!Gojo likes to show his affection by planting himself right behind you and more times than not laying a part of his grotesques form on you

no idea about his actual size nor would he care if you tried to explain it to him because he just won't listen

curse!Gojo wants to be touching you at some point all the time or else he does get practically...antsy

not a good idea for him to be restless, it's in everyone's best interest for curse!Gojo to remain calm as long as possible

brings you dead curses and to no one surprise, likes to play with them! he will make it a point to have you watch him disembody things.

People, curses, animals...the only thing curse!Gojo will not touch is young individuals

that's a post for later

his ideal way to have your attention is to absolutely maul your target into a pulp right in front of you and frankly there's no other way for him to kill besides over the top right in front of you

on a less gruesome note, yes, he insists on sleeping with you

curse!Gojo thankfully has very little intention of suffocating you so he's happy to have you lay on top of him or curls up around you as the biggest spoon in the world

regretfully curse!Gojo does lick and drool when overtly excited and talks in the fastest string of broken sentences any being could

you get real good at understanding the gibberish don't worry

curse!Gojo loves "self care" and by that it means he loves having you hold his face, pick things out of his teeth, booping his non existent nose and giving him forehead kisses

exceptionally fond of carrying you and pouts when you don't let him hold you 24/7

and the most horrifying thing curse!Gojo loves to show his affection is...play wrestling

don't worry he basically just wants to engulf you in a hug and roll around with you but it can be off putting to those who are not familiar with either of you two yet

#wifey 🦦 ♡ #idk that's the tag you get lol but guess who's not shutting up about curse!Gojo !!! #its me im not shutting up about it #curse!gojo au #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo saturo #jjk satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen

[sporesgalaxy]

Hi, I've been meaning to get into dunmeshi for a while, but I'm unsure about it due to hearing about some people getting turned off from it due to cannibalism themes/implications, and I want to be sure before I really delve into it

How much is it there in the manga? (and anime too)

Ok I'm maybe not the best person to ask but I'll do my best. I last read dungeon meshi sometime in the middle of last year, and I never completely finished it. So, with that in mind, here's what I know/remember.

Cannibalism is first definitively touched upon in a character's backstory, and in that case it's not for certain-- as a kid among a group of adults in a starvation situation, the character was given some suspicious food of uncertain origin, that circumstantially seemed like it may have come from a person who'd recently perished. The anime has not made it to this point yet and won't for a while.

The other really overt cannibalism is eating Chimera Falin at the end, which I actually still haven't quite gotten to the part where they actually eat her, so I don't know how it goes. She's a big popsicle where I left off... but the gang was clear about their plan to eat her, for magic reasons I don't completely remember anymore.

Now you may wonder why I'm emphasizing "difinitively" and "overt" here. That's because dungeon meshi is a fantasy manga so cannibalism isn't totally clear cut? There's some.....uh, without super spoiling anything, it can soorrrt of be described as eating a person's soul? And that can be kind of visceral, because it's a demon...magically phasing its head partway into a person's torso with its mouth open as though eating, basically? And the person is fully conscious for all of it, not necessarily in physical pain but definitely horrified.

Uh, anyone feel free to add on with anything I forgot.

#dunmeshi #asks #dungeon meshi spoilers

[awhimproned]

broke: stede obviously topped that night, he not only manhandled ed in but was also the one to take off his shirt first and close the curtains. ed let him have the reins, he was already into that when he heard the "captain voice" before. he also knew stede needed some sort of anchor and control and reassurance after ned low played into his insecurities and to show stede the pet thing wasn't true at all. he also couldn't say i love you back to stede in comfort and surrendering him like that was a way of showing it. this was also a way of showing stede he was the captain. there was also the oil bottle and the rings by stede's side on the bedside windowsill in the breakfast scene.

woke: ed topped that night. stede was reeling, terrified, horrified and high on adrenaline, had just killed someone (for ed or not) and needed all the comfort he could get. he initiated physical intimacy (either thought that was what a tougher man would do or it was out of avoidance and in desperation to feel something better the moment he saw ed -- who symbolized comfort and safety) instead of wanting to talk about it and ed saw that, and being the more sexually experienced one in the relationship, wanted to quite literally get stede (an overthinker) to a state of too fucked out to think anymore for that night and take care of him so he couldn't harm himself with those thoughts - as ed also knew that was all he could do to help stede for the moment. tldr he service topped stede stupid. that's why he's the one bringing breakfast the next morning and stede's sitting crooked.

bespoke: they're vers4vers ya nasties. all interpretations (except non-con and dub-con implications) are valid

#blackbonnet #gentlebeard #ed x stede #stede bonnet #ed teach #edward teach #blackbeard #ofmd #our flag means death #does it show i thought about that scene too much #i still think about it #and i'm yet to see a fanfic with the second scenario im about to lose it #because stede needed to be taken care of man. his state of mind was so fragile #i love sexy pirate masc stede but sexy pirate stede is also like. not him. its him trying to be someone else so he feels worthy (of ed) #thats why i loved that cursed suit part #he loves soft things. he loves fine things. he is soft. and maybe dropping the tough man front that night would have been therapeutic #i think about s2 stede too much #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers

[alexguard]

I can't get over this scene and image. Like already it HURT ME to watch, especially live, it hurts to watch again after the fact. Even when watching streamers react to it, I still cry.

But... the implications of it that I don't see people talking about much.. is that this is the HEART of the facility. GL!Ranboo dies, at the center of Showfall Media. As the actual creator of Generation Loss, Ranboo themself is the literal heart of the show!! It's their story, their ideas, their SHOW!

And now, GL!Ranboo has died and become one with the heart of Showfall Media, become also a literal heart of the show. Possibly freed from the cycle, but still a major part of it.

Ranboo has said he wouldn't be the main protagonist or really acting in any future generations at this moment, as he more enjoys the writing aspect. And this moment? Well I think that it's showing that in a literal sense. Even if not intentionally.

GL!Ranboo's time as an actor for Showfall ended, the audience set him free through death. But.. physically they are one with the heart of Showfall forever, continuing to fuel the show in a sense. Which in canon is horrifying GL!Ranboo will forever be one with Showfall, maybe even becoming the power source or idea source for future shows. As a reflection to how the real Ranboo is the driving force behind Genloss and already has a bunch of ideas in store for the future generations.

Ranboo has also said they were going to use the box again potentially, to get their money's worth of course. Now that could be for stream bits or videos! But it most likely could be for other generations, showing maybe other characters getting their heads crushed.. the next generation is suppose to be more religious themed. As well the box seemed to be designed like it had been used before GL!Ranboo's head was crushed. But I think it could be used to show GL!Ranboo is still a part of Showfall as the heart of the company, still stuck to a wall. If they went that route of course.

...Oh god they literally got crucified, and got "resurrected" to become one with god/the show runners. Like ths probably wasn't the intentional take away from this scene, but OH GOD THE IMPLICATIONS!! Always think of the implications!!!!

#generation loss #genloss #generation loss spoilers #genloss spoilers #genloss ranboo #genloss theory #Does this count as a theory?? #Cause like I'm kinda theorizing GL!Ranboo became one with the Heart of the company #but also analyzing the meaning? #I don't know but it's what I keep thinking about! #Cause it's also horrifying! #Like GL!Ranboo is free from being a puppet actor #but now is Physically a part of the company #making stories and being a power source #And I feel like if ranboo did act again it'd either be as some random unrelated character #a showfall media masked employee #or still stuck in the heart.. but now even more wired up being the LITERAL creator of the genloss stories #I have other ideas on how they return but that's for later

[greenteaandtattoos]

I haven’t seen anyone else talking about the fact that CC changed the bird’s purpose to protect them and team RWBY.

The implications alone are horrifying. They physically altered the bird’s purpose, their entire reason for living. Changed, just like that. With a single touch of the paw. 

CC talked about the Brothers Grimm having god complexes, but that’s just the pot calling the kettle black.

#rwby #rwby9 #rwby spoilers #curious cat

[pawpunkao3]

My personal ranking of how hard the lords in black slap (in my opinion)

1. Blinky

We only got one NMT with him but MAN was it fucking TIGHT. Blinky has such a clear and coherent theme (watching) which gives him a degree of predictability, but it's tempered by the fact that that theme has so many different offshoots. Blinky's power manifests in spectacle, capitalist surveillance, paranoia about relationships and the resulting controlling behavior that comes from that, sexual threats, false selves, and each of those themes could have easily been a whole episode alone, but instead they were woven together so well! There's clearly so much to explore with him. Also the fact that he's based on the concept of an audience that prefers its characters interesting more than happy is. Well it could have been stupid but it WASN'T okay it WASN'T

2. Pokey

Man I'm a sucker for a hivemind. His biggest draw for me is, well, the implications. Pokey pulls off the "seems goofy, is actually horrifying" better than the other lords in black in my opinion, and not just because he was the first, but because his mere presence subverts the whole medium TGWDLM was made in, reframing ordinarily harmless scenes as horror. The loss of self is a very human fear to play on, and opens up the potential for so much delicious tragedy.

3. Wiggly

Coherent theme of greed. I like that he manifested more subtly than Pokey-- rather than taking people over, he preyed on urges they already had and redirected them to himself. (The fact that he was going to be summoned ruined that a little for me, but not terribly.) I also liked the stress that Wiggly didn't have to do a ton of work because of the fact that humans already fucked up their world. Made in America SLAPS man.

4. Nibbly

I mean, you can't go wrong with a hunger themed monster. Nibbly had a bit of the multifaceted theming Blinky did with physical hunger and a strong "hunger" or desire to win, but the fact that he was kept as a late reveal meant that couldn't be explored as much. Overall, Nibbly didn't seem to have a strong corrupting influence or even a will or desire to conquer humans-- Roman was the real villain, Nibbly just helped.

5. Tinky

What even is this guy's deal? Yes, I know that he's "the bastard of time and space" but what does that mean? Why do we only see him interacting with time and not space? His persona has some karmic aspects, since his one victim was revealed to have caused all his own problems with time travel, but it's not emphasized enough to make it a coherent theme. It seems like his main thing is being obsessed with a terrible man, which nearly every tumblrina manages without magic powers. I would still like to see him expanded on though.

#hatchetfield #nightmare time #hatchetverse #the lords in black #lords in black #bliklotep #pokotho #wiggog y'wrath #nibblenephim #t'noy karaxis #blinky #pokey #wiggly #nibbly #tinky #honey queen #honey queen spoilers #time bastard #time bastard spoilers #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm spoilers #tgwdlm #black friday #black friday spoilers #nmt spoilers #nightmare time spoilers #starkid

[coolattasclown]

important welcome home discoveries

the doodles on the guestbook are by wally!! confirmed by their names. Pngs are named after what wally says. I wont post every image here but here are some important ones i have so far

first off: wally has access to the website somehow, i believe in the physical world as a puppet as he mentions quite a bit he is a puppet (also. he is not horrified by this realization. which means hes ok with being a puppet. good for him! or them. i dont actually know)(also, all of these are addressed to the guests)

Barnaby and Frank are mentioned as speaking to wally, so i am assuming they are puppets as well in the physical world. I also believe somewhere on the website it mentions sally and howdy being found in a box somewhere? horrible implications if they are also alive but-

in these images Wally comments on how he doesn’t know what a wiggle or clown is, and frank or barnaby tell him. leads me to think that wally is pretty childish and doesn’t know a lot- which makes sense because in children’s shows like Sesame Street the main character is a child like the viewer.

Wally says he will mail a letter to Eddie for the guest. he also says he will tell Julie that a guest loves her. So the other neighbors likely have no access to this board or the website itself.

“its ok to frown. you are still my friend” SOBBING AND CRYING!!

TLDR: Im not finished with all of the pages yet, but so far it seems like Wally is a childish friendly artist who loves his neighbors very much. He doesn’t know a lot of words and there are also a few spelling mistakes here and there, and the neighbors seem to help him out with this. Frank and Barnaby are mentioned and talk to Wally, and their relationships seem friendly. Julie, Eddie, Howdy, Poppy, and Sally are mentioned however I’m unsure if Wally interacts with them. Somewhere on the website it says the Sally puppet and Howdy puppet were found in a box (horrifying if they are sentient puppets. poor guys :( also wally is a puppet and is ok with that) uhh what else. idk but YEAH!!!

#cool clown posting #welcome home #welcome home arg #wally welcome home #IM LEARNING AND FINDING THINGS!!! #I LOVE ARGS!!!!!