#the most prominent being i am alone in this world and i have literally no one in my corner ✨

[skyeblue8]

Ԋҽɬɬ'ട Ƒα𝓶σᥙട Ԋσ𝜏ടρσ𝜏, ㆜ԋҽ ᑭɾιԃҽ Ꭱιɳց...🍎

♚ ⋆⋆⃟⊱✪⃝⃞⃝⊰ ⋆⋆⃟⊱✪⃝⃞⃝⊰ ⋆⃟⋆⋆⋆⃟⊱✪⃝⃞⃝⊰ ⋆⋆⃟⊱✪⃝⃞⃝⊰⋆⃟⋆ ♚

❥ Okay, to start off, I am so, so sorry for how long this took. Like, this is the longest that my lists have been prolonged, and I'm sure most of y'all have forgotten about this, but I still feel better having posted this to know it was done. Let me know what you think in the comments, pls! Thank you!

♚ ⋆⋆⃟⊱✪⃝⃞⃝⊰ ⋆⋆⃟⊱✪⃝⃞⃝⊰ ⋆⃟⋆⋆⋆⃟⊱✪⃝⃞⃝⊰ ⋆⋆⃟⊱✪⃝⃞⃝⊰⋆⃟⋆ ♚

♚ Pride's Environment: 🍎

❥ Now, first things first, after much inner debate, I headcanon that the general size of the Pride Ring, while still very gigantic, is actually the smallest of the Seven Rings.

❥ Not because it's the weakest, but rather for two reasons – 1. I feel Pride is often interwoven with other Sins, thus not making it a very prominent stand-alone type thing despite it still having a strong influence on the other Sins. And, 2. Because, going on what @Lovesart23 has stated about Lucifer not liking Hell and probably, by extension, the other demons, I feel like he would keep his Ring grand in the sense to show off his image & power as a leader, but small so less people are in it and, by extension, near him.

❥ Now, as for the Ring itself, I feel like some of Vivzie's concepts for it work while others don't. For starters, I like the idea of nearly every building, monument, restaurant, etc. having some sort of golden apple, snake, and fallen angel insignia/themeing to them to highlight the pride of Lucifer's ring and Biblical actions, as well as being a fun nod to the NYC concept I have for the Ring as it would literally be the demonic version of city with The Big Apple. (Get it? 😉) I also really like the layout of Pentagram City, so that stays.

❥ Now, the red and black color themeing here is actually fine for me as I think it simply fits well with it being a "Top Ring" so-to-speak, so that'll be like your proud, actually Hellish impression of Hell, and, instead of having the whole "looks-can-be-deceptive" thing I have going on for the other Rings besides Wrath, it's just straight up in it's monstrosity while also having a hint of glamor to it. Second to Greed, I also feel that this Ring will have a significant amount of golden accents to it to, of course, to highlight Lucifer's ego and love of the finer things. Unlike Greed however, this gold is all real.

❥ Also, I realized I never considered this in the other Ring Headcanons, so consider this now, but, going off the idea of living furniture/objects in the Pride Ring from fallen Sinners, I headcanon that the same is applied in all the other Rings in my version of Hell, just with Hellborns and moreso in the Pride Ring because the Devil hates everyone. I'd also like to think that, outside of himself, he wouldn't waste his time of building structures or housing plants for the citizens so he let's their carnage do all the work.

❥ On that note, Pride is essentially a free-for-all to a slightly lesser extent than Wrath itself (not by much) and where there's kind of always a frequent fight to the top for Overlords as a lot of them are from here or move to here because they think that's where all the power is (and also to try to get closer to Lucifer).

❥ Now, while I'll discuss more about Ring Placement in future posts, I headcanon that Pride is, essentially, the "closest to the surface" a.k.a Limbo/Purgatory or the Human World (or some world in between that I'll elaborate later). Because of that, it's usually the first Ring to be effected by the Extermination and to greet new Sinners even if they're not supposed to be in the Pride Ring (meaning they'll just shoot right through to the according Ring)

❥ In addition, while this could be applied to all the Rings, I think Pride hides to most secrets about the afterlife and Abrahamic magic and the such because Lucifer likes to keep his secrets and is the most powerful. Another reason why people frequent gravitate here.

So... yeah, that's all I got for the Pride Ring in terms of Environment. Sorry if it's a bit underwhelming, but this Ring is arguably the most malleable in terms of world functions so there's truly anything you can do with this.

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.♡

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ * .♡

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ * .♡ *:･ﾟ.♡

♚ Pride's Residents: 🍎

❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥

❞𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐬❞

➺ Pride Imps - really just normal red imps w/ nothing too special to them b/c Lucifer doesn't care. (Some of them may have some sort of survival adaptations depending on whether or not their hybrids, but otherwise, there isn't too much for them.)

➺ Humanoid Goats, Sheep, Snakes - Animals indicative of the Bible

➺ The C.H.A.R.L.O.T.T.E.S - This is direct inspiration from @violetvolute and their "Hell Princesses" concept for Charlie. They're gold and porcelain anti-cherubium demons who serve as Pride's corrupt police-force, enforcing the few laws that exist in the Ring while simultaneously tormenting Sinners and Hellborns alike, but mostly Sinners. They're also the King's eyes and ears all around the Ring.

They posses certain abilities like flight, experienced combat, & shape-shifting into various furniture amongst the Ring to shock and terrify demons while also keeping a watch on them. They can be unnervingly excellent at their jobs when it comes to monitoring demons, able to keep their stance and their watch for a long period of time (one of them maybe the clocktower itself!)

❞𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐬❞

➺ Any of the non-aforementioned demons who generally fit the Pride Ring aesthetic.

➺ Also, as a newly implemented identification to differentiate the Sinners from the Hellborns, every Sinner of each respective Ring, specifically Pride in this case, possess the glowing sigil/marking that represents the ruler somewhere visible on their bodies upon entering Hell.

❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥

❥ As you can see here, there's not a lot of uber-powerful native creatures in this Ring save for the C.H.A.R.L.O.T.T.E.S, and that's largely because they're the main ones who Lucifer trusts, save for one, and that's the main Charlotte we've all come to know, who has become a marginalized rogue among the others.

❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥ • ❥

Alright, so that's the Pride Ring. Full disclosure, much like the other Rings, whatever is established here is liable to be changed in the future if I find the worldbuilding to be too confusing, contrived, contradictory, etc. Because of this, please don't hesitate to give honest criticism or notes and suggestions in the comments here. And if I change something, I'll always be sure to notify you all on my blog. Thank you, have a great New Year's! 😘

#helluva boss critical #vivziepop critical #helluva boss criticism #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss critique #helluva critical #helluva boss #hazbin hotel critique #vivziepop criticism #hazbin hotel #worldbuilding #Pride Ring #Imps #Skye Blue's 7 Sins

[aspd-culture]

Hi I'm new here so sorry if this has already been answered, people with aspd are often referred to as callous and cold but the rate of anxiety and depression with them is quite high thanks to it being a trauma disorder, so how do the two things coexist? Shouldn't they be mutually exclusive?

Firstly welcome!/pos

So unfortunately, the public's perception of ASPD has gotten very mixed with the understanding of the actual symptoms of ASPD. Callous and cold are certainly personality traits that are more likely to appear in pwASPD, but that is not all of us. In personality disorders, due to the nature of them being baked into our personality, which is part biological and part environmental, you will see heavy variations in symptoms.

Additionally, a part of the actual evaluations for ASPD (at least both of the ones I took to get diagnosed - I am from the US for reference) is questions relating to being charismatic/charming and "masters of manipulation". Even the public perception hits on this - saying we are "always playing a social chess game". Those things aren't really compatible with being callous and cold all the time.

To get more into this in the context of your question, though, as you mentioned, ASPD is almost always caused by some amount of trauma. To my understanding as someone with a background in child development, especially in early childhood, our brains basically got here one of two ways if it's trauma based.

The first is our brains developing under the belief that the symptoms of ASPD are just how everyone is, due to being exposed to poor examples or a lack of exmaples of things like remorse, empathy, warmth, etc. This generally comes from abusive/neglectful/emotionally unavailable adults in the child's life and a lack of presence of adults that would guide the child's brain into the natural development of these things because children are literally always learning in the first few years of life especially, and the brain is forming itself around the understanding that the adults give the child of how a human being thinks/acts/behaves/responds.

The other is having specific trauma break down the prior, proper development under the belief that it was either entirely mistaken and people are supposed to behave another way, or as a protective reaction when the brain believes it cannot survive any other way. Research has pointed to trauma directly impacting the neurology of people with PTSD at any age, and that is especially prominent in the ages that ASPD first starts showing up at (15 and younger).

Regardless of which it is, there is more than *just* ASPD being made most of the time in either of these circumstances. When things are unstable in a child's life, they become very likely to develop any number of anxiety disorders. When led to the belief that nothing will ever be good, anyone of any age tends to end up depressed, and pwASPD generally have experiences that have made us see things that way for a *very* long time.

Depression especially is very compatible with ASPD even in public perception - lack of motivation, disinterest in socializing, maladaptive understanding of the world (believing nothing will get better), etc. are symptoms of both ASPD and Major Depressive Disorder.

As for anxiety, it isn't incompatible, but it is probably fairly far removed from the anxiety that prosocials have, specifically in what the anxiety centers on. It is less likely (but definitely not impossible) that a pwASPD would have anxiety about wanting others to like them or worrying about social interactions, but it is very likely to see pwASPD having anxiety about the risk of harm coming to them, people being "out to get us", or that anything good in our life may be unstable and can be lost or taken from us. Insecurity in relationships is common in ASPD because of that type of anxiety - we tend to struggle with the belief that the other shoe will drop, so to speak, any time things seem good or calm in our life. That alone causes a serious amount of anxiety.

These kinds of misconceptions generally come from a specific misrepresentation of ASPD - the idea that we have no emotions or cannot feel certain particular emotions. While sometimes our emotions can be blunted, and some pwASPD are incapable of feeling particular emotions, which ones in particular vary greatly. Boredom and anger/irritation are pretty much always able to be felt by pwASPD to some degree, but outside of that there's a lot of different presentations of the muted emotions trait (not a diagnostic criteria required for diagnosis btw, it's just a common trait seen in many pwASPD). Some people find themselves incapable of feeling things like fear/anxiety and/or depression, sure, but others like me actually feel those at full force but experience heavily mutes positive emotions like happiness. And again, not all of us even have blunted emotions at all, removing any reason we wouldn't be able to have depression or anxiety.

By the way, nothing bad against you for this question!! It absolutely makes sense that this would be confusing to understand what with the common ways that ASPD is talked about and shown in pop culture, documentaries, and often even academic materials. I hold no ill will towards anyone with any genuine misunderstanding of ASPD. It is extremely difficult to grasp the truth of life with this disorder because even the sources that should be reliable often aren't - with small sample sizes, poor sample randomness (so many studies about ASPD are taken exclusively on prisoners), self-reporting (why the hell would we trust a random researcher), and even people who were diagnosed on the stand without advisement from any mental health professional (so people who may not even *have* ASPD, but they have what someone in the legal system *thought* was ASPD). It is so heavily stigmatized and misrepresented that I also had many of these perceptions well into my teen years, even as I recognized symptoms of ASPD in myself. This whole post is /info, I just have terrible issues with tone due to my autism.

Plain text below the cut:

Firstly welcome!/pos

So unfortunately, the public's perception of ASPD has gotten very mixed with the understanding of the actual symptoms of ASPD. Callous and cold are certainly personality traits that are more likely to appear in pwASPD, but that is not all of us. In personality disorders, due to the nature of them being baked into our personality, which is part biological and part environmental, you will see heavy variations in symptoms.

Additionally, a part of the actual evaluations for ASPD (at least both of the ones I took to get diagnosed - I am from the US for reference) is questions relating to being charismatic/charming and "masters of manipulation". Even the public perception hits on this - saying we are "always playing a social chess game". Those things aren't really compatible with being callous and cold all the time.

To get more into this in the context of your question, though, as you mentioned, ASPD is almost always caused by some amount of trauma. To my understanding as someone with a background in child development, especially in early childhood, our brains basically got here one of two ways if it's trauma based.

The first is our brains developing under the belief that the symptoms of ASPD are just how everyone is, due to being exposed to poor examples or a lack of exmaples of things like remorse, empathy, warmth, etc. This generally comes from abusive/neglectful/emotionally unavailable adults in the child's life and a lack of presence of adults that would guide the child's brain into the natural development of these things because children are literally always learning in the first few years of life especially, and the brain is forming itself around the understanding that the adults give the child of how a human being thinks/acts/behaves/responds.

The other is having specific trauma break down the prior, proper development under the belief that it was either entirely mistaken and people are supposed to behave another way, or as a protective reaction when the brain believes it cannot survive any other way. Research has pointed to trauma directly impacting the neurology of people with PTSD at any age, and that is especially prominent in the ages that ASPD first starts showing up at (15 and younger).

Regardless of which it is, there is more than *just* ASPD being made most of the time in either of these circumstances. When things are unstable in a child's life, they become very likely to develop any number of anxiety disorders. When led to the belief that nothing will ever be good, anyone of any age tends to end up depressed, and pwASPD generally have experiences that have made us see things that way for a *very* long time.

Depression especially is very compatible with ASPD even in public perception - lack of motivation, disinterest in socializing, maladaptive understanding of the world (believing nothing will get better), etc. are symptoms of both ASPD and Major Depressive Disorder.

As for anxiety, it isn't incompatible, but it is probably fairly far removed from the anxiety that prosocials have, specifically in what the anxiety centers on. It is less likely (but definitely not impossible) that a pwASPD would have anxiety about wanting others to like them or worrying about social interactions, but it is very likely to see pwASPD having anxiety about the risk of harm coming to them, people being "out to get us", or that anything good in our life may be unstable and can be lost or taken from us. Insecurity in relationships is common in ASPD because of that type of anxiety - we tend to struggle with the belief that the other shoe will drop, so to speak, any time things seem good or calm in our life. That alone causes a serious amount of anxiety.

These kinds of misconceptions generally come from a specific misrepresentation of ASPD - the idea that we have no emotions or cannot feel certain particular emotions. While sometimes our emotions can be blunted, and some pwASPD are incapable of feeling particular emotions, which ones in particular vary greatly. Boredom and anger/irritation are pretty much always able to be felt by pwASPD to some degree, but outside of that there's a lot of different presentations of the muted emotions trait (not a diagnostic criteria required for diagnosis btw, it's just a common trait seen in many pwASPD). Some people find themselves incapable of feeling things like fear/anxiety and/or depression, sure, but others like me actually feel those at full force but experience heavily mutes positive emotions like happiness. And again, not all of us even have blunted emotions at all, removing any reason we wouldn't be able to have depression or anxiety.

By the way, nothing bad against you for this question!! It absolutely makes sense that this would be confusing to understand what with the common ways that ASPD is talked about and shown in pop culture, documentaries, and often even academic materials. I hold no ill will towards anyone with any genuine misunderstanding of ASPD. It is extremely difficult to grasp the truth of life with this disorder because even the sources that should be reliable often aren't - with small sample sizes, poor sample randomness (so many studies about ASPD are taken exclusively on prisoners), self-reporting (why the hell would we trust a random researcher), and even people who were diagnosed on the stand without advisement from any mental health professional (so people who may not even *have* ASPD, but they have what someone in the legal system *thought* was ASPD). It is so heavily stigmatized and misrepresented that I also had many of these perceptions well into my teen years, even as I recognized symptoms of ASPD in myself. This whole post is /info, I just have terrible issues with tone due to my autism.

#aspd-culture-is #aspd culture is #aspd culture #actually aspd #aspd #aspd awareness #actually antisocial #antisocial personality disorder #aspd traits #anons welcome

[jewishbarbies]

Forgive me but I have so much I can say about this that it physically hurts that her fans believe this nonsense…

“she has always been on the frontlines of change in the industry and setting trends”

When?

“she literally changed the demographic of country music from just being for/about older women to teen girls”

There were female artists before that those “older women” listened to when they were teens. When Taylor’s fans are older women there will be a new singer that teens listen to. It’s how the music industry and freaking aging works. 

“she was one of the first people to really centralize social media in marketing”

She’s literally not. The singers that came up in the early 2000s are. They think 2006 is when the internet was being utilised for promoting singers because of Taylor. Google was invented in 1998. Social media & the internet was being used for almost a decade before. JLO is the reason google images was created for goodness sake.  

“she left RCA because she felt that even if they gave her a good deal they would diminish other writers on the label.”

Do they really think she’s the only so singer to leave or stand up to their label. Britney Spears stole her upcoming song from her label and released it to a radio station in 2004/05. 

“she unabashedly writes about her feelings as a young girl and a woman despite getting shit for it at every turn.”

Most female artists who came before her have struggled with this. Dolly Parton would win awards and get up on stage and not be allowed to speak because her MALE partner spoke for her. Even though Dolly was doing all the work. 

“she's one of the first artists to successfully transfer genres from country to pop.”

This is just false. It happens all the time. Not to mention it happens with different genres and artists all the time. 

“she stood up against streaming when literally no other artist did, got them to change some of their policies”

Because she’s the only one that is selfish enough to publicly pick a fight with someone and pretend it’s got nothing to do with her own bank account. Even when I was a fan of hers I knew she was doing it for herself. 

“yet now the exact thing she was worried about has happened.”

Because she was greedy and arrogant and didn’t buy the masters when they were offered to her because she thinks she better than everyone. 

“her move into pop music was completely different than the type of pop that was being made at the time and it influenced pop for years to come.”

Am I deaf? She stuck to the pop model created by those before her to make sure she was successful. Madonna, Janet Jackson, Britney Spears, Billie Eilish they all took risks with their music and careers to push the envelope and change the sound of pop. Not Taylor “stick to the formula” Swift. 

“all before the me too movement.”

The act TS did herself was admirable but this sentence. This belief that this Swiftie (and potentially other Swifties too) have is a slap in the face to what this movement initially represented and what it meant for women who had endured this. 

“her rerecording process is the first of its kind to be this successful and others are now following suit.”

Wtf does this sentence even mean. They don’t know sh*t about her recording process especially in comparison to other artist. Are they seriously so deluded to think no artist was successful before Taylor. How can they compare her to anyone if they believe this. This statement alone makes it sound like she is the reason music is successful. 

“the way she publicized her fight to own her masters”

Yes for public sympathy cause she’s a narcissist. 

“she also basically started the crop top set trend of the mid 2010s”

One quick google search and this is what I found. “Although the crop top first gained prominence in the fashion industry during the 1930s and 1940s - the latter in particular due to fabric rationing in World War II” I’m sure if I spent more time researching I could find more. But I also know it became very popular in the 1970s with men and carried in through to the 80s and 90s for men and women. Then the 2000s was when the trend reignited. 

“heavily influenced the twee fashion of early 2010s”

This is not the compliment they think it is. This fashion trend is layered with the issues. Her racist fans probably love it because it’s a style that is deemed acceptable by those Hampton holidaying rich white mothers and fathers that got sent to boarding school in England when they were young (I hope that analogy makes sense). It was also equated to thinness particularly at the time it was popularised. Not to mention you google Twee and the pictures you see are if Jess from New Girl, Blair Waldorf from Gossip Girl (a character from a 2000s show) and Alexa Chung. 

Also such a bizarre way to end their long winded rant. 

They are all so blatantly ignorant and stupid. I wasn’t going to say stupid but it really is all it is at this point. They are stuck in this cult they can’t even make reasonable arguments anymore. It’s exhausting constantly being bombarded with them all in every facet of life. I see so many videos of Swifties singing her music in public settings like that video of them on the plane, if I was on that plane I’d have jumped out of it, and it’s just infuriating the lack of respect they have for the rest of the world. Yet they expect everyone to respect and worship their cult leader. It’s disgusting and exhausting. 

Sorry this was so long. I don’t have many followers and I know you’re a safe space for people who don’t like her. And I feel like this is something others might agree with. 

#Asks #anonymoose #anti taylor swift #swifties dni #long post

[doodlegirl1998]

As a story writer, BNHA is an utter insult to story telling in general. And it sickens me that people literally praise it as peak story telling.

Other anime series like Death Note, Madoka Magica, and Dragon Ball has similar themes and character arcs and did them a MILLION times better than this series ever did!

I'm one who greatly values the rule of "show don't tell" and building up believable chemistry between the characters that I just don't get from this series.

1-A say they're connected and can work together as one but we never get any scenes of the class just hanging out and only talk about subjects that are happening right now. We don't know any of their likes or dislikes, their hobbies, what they like to do and more.

Izuku is forced to be miserable and alone so it can be misery for the sake of misery or played up for poor tasting comedy. And to be forced away from his first true friends to be with the Cash Cow Triplets because that apparent pairing makes the most money.

And that's... the saddest thing about the whole business nowadays.

Telling a good story isn't a priority anymore, it's adding things that'll make them the most bank.

Sorry for this rant I just wanted to get that off my chest.

Hi @theloganator101 👋,

I agree as someone who likes to write fics and read a lot of stories myself I do see where you are coming from.

MHA is built on a strong foundation, interesting premise, world building and loveable characters (eeehhh mostly...) yet as time has gone on really prominent cracks have begun to show in MHA.

Particularly, Hori's "tell don't show" method - an inverse of the good writers advice "show don't tell." For example - so many characters kiss Bakugou's ass, call him a prodigy, a "manly friend", a "hard worker", "the best", "has grown a lot" when with how this kid acts he should be LOATHED. By everyone, staff and students alike.

Aizawa is one of his most staunch defenders despite Bakugou being the type of student he should (from what we are told about him and see of his backstory) despise.

Kirishima is his self proclaimed best friend yet Bakugou is the type of person (from what we are told about him) he should also hate with a passion.

Shoto expresses the desire to be friends with Bakugou yet from his upbringing, he should instantly see Bkg is a POS (a mini Endeavor in a lot of ways) and hate him on principle - especially because of how Bakugou is still acting openly hostile and abusive to Midoriya.

Midoriya still calls him "Kacchan" which implies closeness yet Bakugou viciously bullied him mercilessly for year's. He should from what we see also loathe Bakugou or grow to do so yet he never does.

All of this creates a strong sense of cognitive dissonance and dissatisfaction throughout the story.

Class 1A say they are connected but are they really, and is Aizawa their defacto father figure? I would say no. Despite Hori telling us otherwise - he doesn't make the effort to SHOW us.

Class 1A can show they care what Bakugou feels like being rescued but hound Midoriya and drag him back to UA without a care in the clusterfuck that was Class 1A vs Izuku.

Class 1A can rightfully dunk on Mineta for all the times he acts a disgusting pervert yet look on as Bakugou takes his aggression physically, verbally and in an explosive manner out on Midoriya for the 100th time. Even Midoriya's friends (Ocha, Iida, Tsyu, Aoyama and Shoto) and his mentor All Might look on with a fond smile at the "rivals."

I am disgusted at the abusive mockery of a rivalry... a rivalry is Sasuke vs Naruto - or even Shigaraki vs Izuku not Bakugou (abuser) vs Izuku (his victim.)

There was a moment in the war arc, where Izuku shouted to AFO!Shig that losing their homeroom teacher, Aizawa would be the worst outcome of the battle. And, as it wasn't the argument of Eraser the tactical asset being lost that would be the worst outcome but him as a teacher, I was left thinking - Izuku, why do you think this?

Hori gave us no moments where a bond between Aizawa and the rest of the class was built up to see him as this defacto father figure to 1A - especially not with Izuku - in fact Hori did the opposite by making Aizawa behave like he has.

"Problem Child" - is not a fond nickname from Aizawa to Midoriya to me. To anyone who thinks it is I would like them to consider that it is coming from an expell-eager hardass of a Teacher who has never been shown to like Izuku.

Realistically, the repercussions of Aizawa's actions here written without plot armour, Midoriya would be an anxious wreck being called this by him and would be wondering when he actually will get the boot out of U.A.

So again, there's the cognitive dissonance and here's Hori's favourite "tell don't show"... UGH.

There's so so many other examples of this style of writing in MHA - all the simping for Endeavor, Aizawa and Bakugou done by other characters because we are meant to like them now.

Side note - Rei simping for Endeavor is just baffling to me and not in a good way like 🤮. It was such a poor narrative choice it made me wonder if this poor woman was actually being treated in that mental hospital or just brainwashed to be more ammendable to her abusive husband. What good Doctor would let their patients abusive husband's manipulative presents through? Fuck right off with that Hori.

With your concluding statement I agree - making a good story and concluding it at the right time isn't a priority anymore. In general, just look at the MCU. That francise should have naturally ended with Endgame yet Disney is still trying to drag it on to milk out the dollars until it becomes unprofitable.

With MHA, narratively it has gone down the toilet. Hori's heart isn't in it anymore and we can all tell. He (and his editors) placed Izuku at the heart of the cash cow triplets to bring them in the money. And it has worked.

So, Izuku will always be miserable with Bakubitch always around like a cancer sucking out all Izuku's joy and growing over what was meant as his story. I don't expect a happy ending for Izuku anymore. I just hope he isn't dead at the end of all of this and manages to save Shigaraki - which is the most I can hope for him at the moment.

To conclude, don't be sorry for the rant I responded with one of my own. :)

#mha critical #bnha critical #anti bakugou #anti bakugou katsuki #anti endeavor #aizawa critical #aizawa shota critical #Class 1A critical

[a-gal-with-taste]

Certainties & Mistletoe - Part 2

Summary: Mistletoe, the only decoration the old bastard could bear to stand during the winter-months. You thought it harmless, simple and almost forgettable... but the events it causes, is anything-but.

Ebenezer Scrooge & F!Reader | 4946 Words |

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Tags: Slow-burn, humor, banter, internal-thoughts, boss/employee relationship, maid!Reader, some world-building, pining (?!?), denial of feelings/everyone has denial, Scrooge being a grump (shocker), I literally don't know where this is going but gosh is it fun

A/N: Second chapter. Why? Haven't figured it out yet, and also don't know where this is going. Enjoy the ride!

If anything was affixed in reliability in regards to your strange-sort of new-reality, it was the fact that it was difficult to ignore that pesky little sprig. 

Not just difficult. 

Quite impossible, actually, considering it sat prominent at the corner of the undecorated desk of Mister Ebenezer Scrooge. 

A desk currently unoccupied. 

The district of Cornhill in its entirety left shaken by the sight of such a man on the prowl, particularly in this season’s time. Pity as it was to wish-upon the innocent the presence of Scrooge, you felt free alone in his business-quarters as you went-about your normal, average routine...

As normal as could be, with the singular reminder of your transgression still sitting upright and full of life, on that small glass of water at the miser’s desk. Right there... right there, out in the open, for all, and especially the Master-himself, to see!

It felt like a mockery. Taunting you, with a memory already half-repressed, forcing it back into the forefront every time you saw the spiky-leaves from the corners of vision, the crimson berries gleaming-still in candlelight...

You half-thought the thing lived-on, refusing to even consider wilting, just out of spite.

Henceforth, why you chose to regard it with an eye full of loathing, and offer a wide-berth around its immediate proximity. A fact that was as ridiculous, as it was entirely unignorable by parties not-privy to your internal conflict.

“Miss?”

You hummed in a way that proved you were listening, despite the venomous staring-match you were engaged-in. With a plant.

“Fairly sure those berries are only poisonous when eaten... they don’t jump out ‘atcha, frankly.”

Ah, Robert - though he swore that Bob was the name written on record - ever the relieving fresh-air in the stifling atmosphere that was Marley and Scrooge. His humor politely-stifled on most days to appease his mentor and employer, the brief freedom allowed between the hours of mid-morning, to five hours past-noon, were well-spent with an easy smile, and a more at-eased attitude.

Usually, it was a well-welcomed attitude. 

But the mischief that gleams in bi-colored eyes, that shift from yourself and to the out-of-place sprig, is enough to leave you wary before he even speaks.

“Though I can’t quite decide... whether your loathing comes from its poison, or spikes. Have you pricked yourself, perchance?”

“Were I lacking more wit than I currently possess, perhaps, but I am not-yet that clumsy,” You insist, but there’s a small smile shared from you to him, one that does-away with most of the troubled glint in your eyes. Most. 

“Strange, ‘innit?” He hummed in that almost-sweet, disarming way that had earned your gratefulness early-on in your employment. “Thought I’d be a-long into some great beyond before ol’ Ebenezer decided to stock up on decorations.” 

It’s spoken all in light joviality - out of respect, seasonal mood of jolly or legitimate amusement at the old man, you weren’t certain - but the second-opinion of the foul little thing does little to ease your mood. 

Your eyes slowly trail-back to it, nails digging into the meat of your palms as they tightened into fists. 

“I would think the very-same,” You murmur, eventually finding yourself able to turn your back on the desk and what resides there, in order to begin work along the shelves, all under Cratchit’s keen gaze. Keen, very-much curious, and unfortunately, eager for gossip to pass the hours.

“Well then. Have you any idea why he-?”

“Why-what? Who knows why that man does anything he-wills to do?” Too hasty, you knew, not only by how swiftly eyebrows shot-up, nearly touching his hairline.

Honesty would relieve you of some of the worry, you knew.

But it also seemed unbearable. To admit one's misconduct was enough of an embarrassment, but the crime-committed felt so much more severe than a slip in composure or social-graces...

Yet, it only took another lingering stare at the surviving twig of holly, before you wrung the dusting cloth between your fingers, “Mister Cratchit, have you ever done something truly... dreadful?”

No one would ever think a dear such as Bob capable of anything less-than goodness, but the copper-haired lad nodded rather quickly. “Oh, indeed! Rightfully so, my missus never lets me forget it.”

Stunned, breath caught between two-lungs, you asked out in a rush what it was.

“Thirty minutes late, I was, to own second girls’ arrival.” He confessed, a great and sorrowful light entering the eyes of two-shades as he wags his chin mournfully. “Nothing more-dreadful than that, Miss. It’s only out of blessing and that gold-heart of hers, that Kathie has never scorned me for it.”

Your heart sank - not necessarily from the story, though you did pity the family-loving man - but because it wasn’t even remotely-comparable to your own situation, and all the complications that now come with it.

Though, likely being the sole-woman alive who has so-willingly bestowed a kiss upon the lips of Ebenezer Scrooge, there was very-likely none to properly seek confidence-in.

So, physically shaking your thoughts from mind, you turned your inquiry to a subject far-less combustible, and humiliating. “Yet another child I find myself privy to be learning-of. Tell me, Robert, what good have I done to deserve such knowledge?”

“Bob, or Mister Cratchit if-you-please,” He corrected immediately, but with a pleased grin assuring you that no-offense was taken. “Two-years anniversary comes soon, since you’ve strode into this very office. It seemed appropriate.”

“In a way of celebration, I trust?”

“No other way I would speak of your presence here, miss.” The assurance is cut off, as Bob raps his knuckles upon his desk once, twice, with a canine briefly worrying at a chapped-lip before he continues. “That, and... well, you might very well privy to the sight of my children, soon enough. Two of them, to be exact.”

“Oh, Mister Cratchit, surely you don’t desire to host them among the company here.” You certainly had no issue with their attendance, but the office of Scrooge and the late Mister Marley was hardly a place of welcome for children.

“Oh no, they’d be so horribly bored, and Mister Scrooge would likely be-” A darting of eyes, much akin to your own, is paired with a gulp as he lays a gaze upon the somber work-station of the man-himself. “... displeased. But Kathie is of-age to begin work, with a voice as lovely as the Queen’s, I'd say! She might design to come ‘round upon her day, with my little man.”

“A son, too?” 

“Tim, man ‘o the house when I'm here, hard at work!” The declaration is spoken with pride, and it’s quite easy to respond with a small smile at the proud-father.

Perhaps it was selfish, but discussion of his life, rather than your own recent actions, was far more welcomed, even as something terribly weary entered his eyes before he continued.

“My... my boy would dowell with walking. Winter has never-quite been a friend with him, and... well. It’s come to the point where the exercise is much-needed, y’see, and I-”

“Mister Cratchit,” You interjected, sympathy in your eyes. “You need-not explain further. Perpetuating your woes with my curiosity was never an intention.” And it was clear, even with a lapse of details, that the situation with the Cratchit’s son was a woe-indeed.

“Right... right!” It was now his turn to shake-himself free of his troubles, which he did with a zeal that left his bright-copper hair to flip over his forehead. “Well, regardless... Miss, ‘ve no-doubt they’ll make the occasional trip! ‘Tis only natural for Cratchits to wish in staying-close, even when hard-at-work, though I can assure you, they’ll keep their business outside!”

“Tis not me you need to assure-this-to, but the caution is appreciated.” And the fact gave you plenty more to mull-over between the repetitiveness of your daily routine, dust collected and shaken-off the dusting-cloth with practiced ease. “Have I time and ability, I can spare a cuppa, warm, for the little-ones.”

“Oh, I couldn’t ask that of you-”

“And you haven’t, it’s merely an offer,” The smile you gave back was meant to invite ease, something which the clerk accepted after a moment. “Free-of-charge. Though darenot tell the Master of-that.”

“Heh, right... I shan’t.” A pause, the quiet words of gratitude nearly-silent, but no-less sincere. Again, pleasantries were a rarity in such-offices... three-years gone by, and still Cratchit was slow to get-used to them in your presence.

Keeping to normalcy. A lifestyle you thought mastered, and now something you missed bitterly, as your routine now seemed to revolve around... it, at his desk.

Foolish, it very-much was, but nonetheless, your steps naturally merged upon a new-path as you went about your duties - a bit quicker than normal, after the pauses taken during your conversing with the clerk - and kept ensuring you made as little visual-contact as possible with the sprig of your ire, the reason for that writhing cluster of uncertainty gathering inside you.

Why keep it? 

And, more significantly, why display it? As some sort of warning? Perchance it was a form of mockery, a private joke of which only one gains twisted-humor from... 

But was there humor to be had? From yourself, certainly-not, but recollection reminds you swiftly of the man’s own reaction to the incident... 

Averted eyes - surely out of the morbid embarrassment of the unprompted action.

Rapid, repeated clearing of the throat - solely for discomfort, you dreaded what occurred whenever the gentleman fell-ill, and what that entailed for you to do.

Your concern of some ailment only increased at the memory of reddened-cheeks - an occurrence that had twice been a happenstance. The prior evening upon your departure, and just this morning, upon your return.

With a sigh as you shuffled the books back unto their place on a cleaned-shelf, you resolved to detour from home to speak with a physician, speak on behalf of his welfare. A second-opinion... was it not what was desired in the first place, except for another scenario entirely?

You supposed you had to take victory elsewhere. If you could not succeed in unraveling the frazzled, mangled remnants of your good-sense, at least ensuring your employer was not catching-cold, was an acceptable alternate achievement in defeat of another.

That is, of course, what you tried to convince yourself. You feared you didn’t succeed much there either.

Speaking of the man, the clock struck the fifth-hour of past-noon.

By the second-ring announcing the time, you were dusting yourself to an acceptable greeting-condition - picking-up the pace as you passed the desk, and its topside contents you so-loathed.

The third and fourth tolling of bells both near-and-far finding yourself positioned, as always, by the front-door to brace to take hat & coat. Arms extended slightly, expectantly enough that your eyes slipped-closed as you sighed, bracing for the temporary flurry that would be let-in. From the season’s snow, and Mister Scrooge's return.

The twelfth-toll. 

The minute-hand passed the twelfth-rung entirely, marching onward to time forever and ever... and the front door did not open.

Understandable. It had slushed more than it had snowed the night previously, making the banks of snow less-pleasant to traverse through by oneself... doubly so, for Prudence would not make traveling conditions any-easier, despite the companionship she provided.

Allowing this consideration, a moment passed without fanfare. A second moment, another... but by the forth, you began to peer at the doorway rather perplexed, a frown gathering on your lips as you squinted out the port-window of the entryway, stretching upon your toes, and still catching no-sight of your employer.

A flicker of... something, unpleasant, crossed your mind.

“Robert-”

“Bob, miss.”

“-Mister Cratchit. Master Scrooge is late.”

“Oh no.” Less of alarm, more of polite-dismissal, the clerk raised his ruddy-nose high-enough over his freshly-inked book to squint-down the corridor to the back-offices, the grand clock sitting proudly at the back. “Hardly even five-after... five minutes after, miss! Hardly a wink in time."

You shook your head, glancing between the unopened door and clock. "Mayhaps, but this is Mister Scrooge we speak off. A man who considers ‘time to-be a finite resource to be transacted sparsely, to avoid its waste.’"

After nearly two-years, Ebenezer Scrooge was nothing, if-not predictable when it comes to stifling-speeches of practicality. You liked to think you did a well-enough mimic of voice and posture too, but the humor is lost quickly when six minutes pass.

A seventh. “He surely hasn’t gotten into an argument of some sort.”

“Mister Scrooge is rather, erm, efficient with those, miss. Doesn’t much-like getting caught up in one such as those.” An eighth, flirting close with the tenth-past the hour.

But Cratchit’s words were true enough; it was quite-possible that the man was among the most stubborn of humankind, the kind to be set-firm as stone, plowing through as efficiently and steadfastly solid as marble.

Which was why you started to pace at the entrance, when the minute-hand reached the first ten-moments of the hour. Sitting at the windowside, two-minutes later, with that cluster of troubled-nerves within you building and building, to the point you feared a combustion would take-place.

The avoidance should have been welcomed. 

Extra-time, even only the length of only a quarter-hour, was something you would normally see as a blessing and something to be welcomed wholeheartedly, entirely, and without any questioning as to the why.

But then you glance at the almost-empty desk, your eyes catching-sight of what exactly made the desk only almost empty.

The sprig of holly doesn't seem as much like a physical taunt, at this moment.

It's motivation.

One you find yourself taking subconsciously, as you rise from your waiting-seat at the windowside, and march over to the coat-rack. With your bonnet shoved over your hair as you tug on your coat, the voice of the bystanding clerk is enough to cut through the fog of your swirling-thoughts, "Leaving sooner than normal? No emergency, I hope?"

"Only the emergency of a search. I worry the worst, Mister Cratchit."

A slow blink, and lowered quill as the man frowned. "For Mister Scrooge? Surely not... yes, it's not-normal that he's absent for so-long, but I'm certain he's right-as-rain-"

"And if he's not?" You demanded, fingers a flurry over the buttons as you bundle yourself up to prep for the outside-chill. "Slicked-cobble is a nightmare, even for a man with a cane. Especially so, mayhaps, and God-knows there's few willing to help him if he's slipped or fallen."

Most would probably laugh, though you-yourself find little-humor in the thought.

"Oh, come now, miss, someone would fetch the doctor, surely! Imagined we would hear Prudence half-the-city away if something befall the fellow, besides-"

"I'm quite certain of it, but I need to be sure!" You insisted, tugging your gloves into place as you turned towards the door, turning to Cratchit in the midst of your strides. "I... I only wish to ensure all is well. If such-is, I'll be back only momentarily-"

The sharp, sudden gust of pure ice to your cheeks was only barely-registered, in time with the modestly-sized office building shaking from the force of the door flung open.

You had very-little time to register these two-sensations.

Even less time, to slow-down enough to prevent the collision, of you striding-out, and your fashionably-late employer marching-in.

Rather spectacularly, soundly colliding against his chest, your hands are coming up too-late to cushion the blow, and curl on his vest. It's only thanks to the sudden-rigidity in your body that you don't stumble-along with the gentleman as he staggers, winded from the blow, and you-yourself are able to keep upright.

Though, your legs feel slightly-weakened at the sharp, flabbergasted inhale that you feel, more than hear.

Another-breath is felt beneath your cheek, after the man finds his center-of-gravity once more, and after the faint deflating of his chest at sharp-exhalation, Prudence slices through the stifling fog of the incident with an excited bark at your feet.

Hands curled tighter, before you push yourself off his chest with chin still tucked-low towards your own. "I-I... You... I apologize, but you were running quite-late."

A poor, poor excuse. And hardly an apology, something Ebenezer Scrooge sincerely agrees with, as evident by his scoff. 

"A typical occurrence, miss, when one requires a detour from average paths."

"Well... yes, but I had-fear that you slipped, the cobbles are quite-slick this evening-"

"My relation with gravity is of such grand-importance to you? Humorous, considering you nearly made me fall-"

"You only did just the same, Mister Scrooge! An accident of equal blame, you can hardly push responsibility solely onto...." You trailed off, a bit lamely, as your gaze has raised in response to man. 

Pompous and sneering as his words are, you quickly take notice that Ebenezer has held himself in such a way that can only be described-best as stiff... he also refuses to look at you directly, line of sight barely-skimming over your brows. 

The non-whiskered skin of his cheeks still host some redness from his exposure to frost, even if the door has already swung-closed behind him. Excessively so, as the flushed-hue upon his skin extends from face, down to neck, peeking upon his ears from beneath his hat...

And...

He's also holding a fresh sprig of holly in a gloved-hand, newer than even the one hosted at his desk. Fist clenched tight about it, as if his body was subconsciously, fiercely opinionated on its existence.

You cannot yet-tell what that opinion might be.

"What... what is that?"

CLICK HERE TO READ THE REST ON AO3

#i can't believe netflix made me do this #AGAIN #scrooge: a christmas carol #scrooge 2022 #scrooge x reader #scrooge 2022 x reader #ebenezer scrooge #netflix #reader insert #this is only 50% joke #guess what the other 50% is #female reader #fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own #writing #christmas

[just-shipgirl-thoughts]

I like to imagine

I haven't played Destiny in years. Literal years.

Forever ago.

Because I got axed by a Code Weasel that I still haven't found the cause of today, and because I lost my console. Like, right after Shadowkeep. I didn't see any of the new stuff happening not with Eris, not with the friendly Eliksni, holy shit that was a shock, not with the alliance between Caitl and the Last City.

None of it.

So as far as I know, my Guardian is just floating in an endless, timeless void in perfect stasis, and has been for years upon years now, completely removed from the world, adrift in Nothing, Nowhere.

I know nothing about this game now.

I've heard things about planets being destroyed, or "Rotated out", and I have to wonder if any of the gear I have is now irreplaceably valuable because they're gone.

I'd be a walking talking time capsule, I think. I have so much shit that was old even then.

I wonder if my loot will even still be there, actually. Sturm, Drang, D.A.R.C.Y, my hand-cannons, the Vampire Gauntlets, to name a few, all gone with the wind.

Could you imagine being the Vanguard, and, suddenly, one day, one of your most prominent Hunters drops off the face of the universe?

You're tracking their ship signature, when it disappears altogether without warning. No disturbances, no other blips, it's just totally gone in the blink of an eye.

Their Light signature? Gone, say the Warlocks, disquieted after observing the sight. They felt something, a bare second of the impression of falling, before it completely disappeared, leaving a patched hole behind, like it was never even there.

Guardians disappearing is hardly uncommon at all, lost to Lightless zones or the endless churning war machine against the Darkness, but a Guardian totally evaporating, out of the blue, in the middle of communication, to somewhere even the most Light sensitive Guardians can't figure out, let alone track?

Disquieting.

I like to imagine, for all the little of myself that I actually put into my Guardian beyond using it as a shell to interact with the world, that they had friends. People. Things they left behind, out of their control.

Oh god, I never even got to see Forsaken. Cayde died, and I wasn't even there.

Wow.

Shit, this is making me a little emotional.

I had a name for them, I think, but I can't remember it. Or what my Hunter looked like, actually, or my Warlock. Or my Titan, for that matter. None of them.

Destiny, much as I am semi-shocked to admit, was a fairly large part of my life for that period of having played it for years.

I wonder how much catching up I'll have to do when I get back.

There's a defrosting joke to be made here, somewhere.

Oh well, nothing the good old fashioned grind and elbow grease can't fix.

#destiny #destiny 2 #destiny the game #destiny 2 hunter #bis rants #I don't really know where this came from #But the thought's been had and written out so I can't just discard it now #So here you go #I guess

[sopuu]

I would love to hear your thoughts on the symbolism and game design of omori

This is suchh an old ask im sorry it took me so long to get my thoughts tgt let alone write them down hh everything’s under the cut bc there’s a Lot and tysm for enabling me 🙏🏻

just a heads up I’m not gonna talk much about the characters themselves bc there’s already plenty of analysis out there for them- what I am gonna get to tho is the general game itself and a bit of the music. And bc OMORI is a game that covers heavy topics, please be aware of this before you continue reading!

So ofc I gotta start with the first place omori wakes up in — white space, just a simple rectangle on the floor with the essentials within arm’s reach, no responsibilities and no one to bother you. I LOVE minimalistic stuff like this- something so simple can can make you feel like you’re in both the most peaceful and uncanny place in the world. Also the black bulb being a symbol of repression, opposite of a lit bulb being a symbol of a new idea (thank you fandom wiki for this point) is just 👌🏻. And the fact that omori’s friends are right next door (literally called neighbour’s room) if he ever gets lonely shows how they’ve always been there for him, and in turn how much he depends on them.

I think the game does a wonderful job of depicting what escapism is like- Daydreaming of a world full of your own ocs, adventuring through it with your best friends and being the hero of the story where everything goes right for you. But of course this fantasy can’t hold forever as the real world starts to catch up, with stuff like Something appearing in places reminding omori of what happened, red space entrances throughout the story (the ones before the main red space debut as omori sits on the throne), and ofc the moment basil drops the photograph at the start. Side note, I like how Something always disappearing so quickly shows how desperate omori is to repress it, like quickly shoving problems under a rug. Or maybe im reading too much into it and it’s just to add to the creepy factor lol. Also this is one of the games that does mixed media SO well- combining digital 2d art with real life materials like sketching and scanning the animations, clay models for Somethings, real life photos drawn over and filtered etc, it really suits the theme of having to balance the fictional world and the real world if that makes sense. Also the way some scenes deliberately leave in the crumpled paper texture!! Especially for messages about not friends giving up on each other-- its almost like those were thrown away in the trash and picked back up again. Quite the parallel to how sunny locked himself away for four years due to depression and guilt for what he’s done, thinking his friends would never forgive him, then eventually finally coming out of his house and giving himself a chance with reconnecting with them.

Ok here’s where the heavier themes come in so please please stop reading if you’re not comfortable with them! [tw: suicide (or at least implications of it)]

game design time! i absolutely love it when games use the game mechanics themselves to be a part of storytelling- and this game does it with the stab function. I actually got to know this game through watching playthroughs, and at the first forced transition usually people do whatever they can think of to avoid having to press the button, before very reluctantly realising that they don’t have a choice. As the game goes on, players start getting more and more familiar with it, using it to get back to the real world or bc of forced resets and so on. Before long this basically becomes routine and players get so used to it that they don’t even hesitate to press it anymore. After all, nothing bad actually happens, right..? This mechanic gets used so much more in black space, but this time it’s very prominently presented as an escape route, something to get out of stressful situations, something that helps. you might even be relieved to see that option be available to you. And I think that’s terrifying— considering that this is a representation of how.. unpleasant thoughts can go from being unfathomable to something that feels like a natural/normal occurrence. i don’t think I’ve seen any other game that captures this kind of thought process(? there’s probably a better term for this) to the level that OMORI does and im so so glad that the devs are bringing these mental health topics to light.

I’d also love to talk about black space but I think this post does it better than I ever could haha, also black space 2 I love you sm im a sucker for out-of-bounds-but-not-really type of areas (yknow like Undertale’s fun value rooms and test rooms), it’s like hitting the jackpot for easter eggs and subtle lore aughh <3

And I can’t talk about OMORI without talking about the music!! I think we can all agree that Duet KILLS. the high notes as the happiest scenes show on screen………the way the piano is the one that starts the song off and it ends with only the violin……… my emotions man. what if I started crying!!!!! (i did)

Clean Slate is one of my top songs- there’s so much emotion in this and it’s the epitome of acceptance and letting go of guilt while also giving the feeling that you’re in a hospital (ig that’s kinda the point but for such a short song to pinpoint a feeling AND setting so accurately is so grragjgh….)

Other big favs are It Means Everything, Chaos Assembly, Tee-Hee Time, Puddles, Snow Forest and Dear Little Brother :) and actually a lot of others as well but id be listing half the soundtrack and more if I go on

In conclusion OMORI is such a well designed game, I love it and its messages sm it means a lot to me personally, and writing this made me feel like im back in English class again

#asks #my god this is actually LONG. even had to cut some stuff lol #kudos to anyone who actually read this #ignore the inconsistent capitalisation i did this both on my phone and laptop hgkdk

[jinxedshapeshifter]

No, Silver the Hedgehog's Personality Has Not Changed: An Analysis

Okay, I'll be upfront about Silver being my favorite Sonic character here so there's transparency. However, I've also either played or watched someone else play every game Silver shows up in and read all the IDW comics (except the Bad Guys miniseries). I am qualified to analyze Silver's personality. This also gets personal in both the tags and towards the end of the analysis, and the post is long, so I'll add a read more break.

So first things first: the stuff people complain about. Here are the main complaints I see:

His personality is completely different from how it was in Sonic 06 and Sonic Rivals

His dorky traits (such as his social awkwardness) have been amplified

Neither of these are necessarily true. Let's start with the first complaint, his personality being completely different. My reasoning for this does tie into the second point however.

Let's quickly go over how personalities work. Under different circumstances, different aspects of a person's personality might be more prominent. For example, I'm a naturally anxious person. Under certain circumstances -- usually being around people I know -- my social anxiety specifically disappears almost completely because of circumstances. This can even be seen in the Sonic series with other characters.

Vector isn't usually aggressive, but he can be provided the circumstances are right, as seen in Sonic Heroes.

Sonic likes to goof off and joke around, but he can be serious if the situation requires it.

In Sonic Prime, Rouge does do a lot of treasure hunting and loves looking for gems, but if the situation puts her in danger, she avoids it; she specifically says "No gem is worth losing my wings over!"

Silver's circumstances are different from his circumstances in 06 or Rivals, and he's developed to realize that he doesn't always need to solve things with violence.

It's also worth noting that from the beginning he's been relatively awkward when it comes to situations where he's not trying to save the world. He's even awkward when he is trying to save the world. He's always been awkward in social situations especially, because aside from Sonic 06 he's been alone most of his life, and even in Sonic 06 he's presumably only ever interacted with Blaze before meeting Mephiles, so he's not used to interacting with other people socially.

I'd argue that it's implied he's not as socially awkward when he's with someone he knows when Blaze mentions in 06 that he's "pretty insecure when he's alone" because I'm the same way. If I'm not around someone I know, I get incredibly anxious and insecure in social situations. It's even directly shown in 06 that he gets awkward in social situations when he's alone; when Blaze is around he interacts with Mephiles and Sonic just fine, but the second Blaze is gone he gets awkward when he interacts with anyone he doesn't know.

This is mainly seen in the cutscene where he first meets Amy. He has no idea how to respond to her throughout the entire exchange, making him come off as awkward. Even as they're helping each other, he's still incredibly awkward.

It's even implied he's not naturally aggressive:

Him questioning whether it's right to kill Sonic to save the world means doing so likely conflicts with his morals. He's so conflicted on whether or not it's right to kill Sonic that he is literally willing to let the future stay how it is if he decides it's not the right thing to do. It's because of Blaze that he continues to go after Sonic, but my point still stands: he had a moral crisis over killing Sonic, implying that sort of aggression isn't in his nature.

Also in Sonic 06 and Sonic Rivals 2, he's shown to be quite the awkward dork when he's not focused on a mission. In the Sonic Rivals duology especially, he's shown to throw hands first and ask questions later, but he does -- again -- take a nonviolent route in his story; his story is the only time Capture the Chao is played in Story Mode in Sonic Rivals 2, and he decides to play it with Sonic instead of fighting/racing him again. The reason he's so aggressive in the Rivals duology is because he thinks everyone's getting in his way. He becomes incredibly docile towards Espio when Espio offers to help him in Sonic Rivals 2. The only reason he was so violent towards everyone else in Rivals and Rivals 2 is because he wanted them out of his way, and this continues to be the case as the franchise goes on, albeit to a milder extent. Listen to his in race dialogue in Team Sonic Racing, it proves my point. He LITERALLY tells Big, IN THE MOST MOCKING VOICE EVER, "Go home to Froggy, Big!"

Speaking of Team Sonic Racing ...

He's shown in both TSR and Sonic Colors DS to be incredibly docile if he doesn't have a set goal (I’m not counting his snark in Colors DS as hostility so don’t bring it up). Remember, in both games there’s no mention of his future still being ruined; in Colors DS, he specified that his future is no different than the present, and the most we get about his future in TSR is a line from Zavok about there “being worse in your future, Silver!” During races he gets non-aggressively hostile because he’s competitive.

His personality only is how it is in Sonic 06 and the Rivals duology because he’s set on a goal and views everyone else as obstacles, with the exception of Espio who is helping him. In every other situation, his hostility is playful/competitive hostility, not necessarily genuine hostility.

So, in summary: Silver’s personality hasn’t changed, but his circumstances have, and he’s learned that he doesn’t need to resort to violence to solve every problem. That’s why his dorky traits are more likely to be highlighted. Those traits have always been there, but his hostility overshadowed it most of the time because he had a set goal in mind and everyone, in his eyes, was getting in his way. Since he’s learned how to handle those kinds of situations without getting overly hostile, his more aggressive traits aren’t as prominent. Those traits end up prominent again when he gets competitive. He’s grown as a person and learned to have more self control. Why is that a bad thing? Why is Silver developing enough to not see violence as necessary a bad thing?

Now I’m gonna get personal for a sec because I was much like Silver was in 06 and Rivals at one point, likely due to my autism going undiagnosed for far too long. I’m no longer like that because I developed as a person.

So I ask again, why is Silver no longer seeing violence as inherently necessary a bad thing? Why is it bad that he’s more dorky and awkward than hostile and aggressive now? Answer: it’s not. He’s developed, and it makes me incredibly upset that it’s criticized instead of celebrated, because his mentality in 06 and the Rivals duology would've realistically led to some incredibly toxic relationships.

#silver the hedgehog #analysis #sonic analysis #sonic fandom acknowledge character development challenge 2023: impossible #look admittedly my personal experience with a similar type of personal development might make me biased #as well as silver being my favorite character #but at the same time due to my personal growth being similar to silver's seeing people say he should've stayed the way he was makes me feel #invalid? i guess? #like unless you've been around someone or been someone with behavior and a mentality similar to silver's in 06 and the rivals duology #you do not know how fucking toxic it is to be around it #without his development silver would not be able to have functional healthy relationships #it's better to be awkward and communicative than aggressive and hostile during a confrontation and thats exactly how he is now #which makes for infinitely healthier relationships #tags are really me saying 'and i took that PERSONALLY' lmfao

[blueskittlesart]

why do you think navi left? i’m still confused…

i am once again going to plug my loz analysis doc because i do go into navi's disappearance briefly in both the oot & mm sections but tldr i do not know and it has driven me insane for the last seven years of my life.

navi to me is representative of a support system to link in oot. when link has no one else on his side, when no adult will listen or guide him, navi is there throughout EVERYTHING. she is imperative to link's ability to fight both narratively and as a game mechanic--she is tied to the targeting mechanic. when you briefly lose her in the final battle it's a genuine handicap, because link is unable to target and therefore unable to fight when he is completely alone, and all your energy is focused on removing the block on her so that you can target ganon's weak point and win the final battle. link CANNOT win ocarina of time without navi. which is why it is SO difficult for me to rationalize her unexplained absence in the game's otherwise completely cohesive direct sequel. a fairly popular theory (at least back when i was 12 and frantically googling "where is navi majora's mask") is that, since link has completed his purpose in regards to the hero's destiny by the end of oot, navi was "no longer needed" and therefore left him. I don't like this theory for several reasons, the most prominent being that i resent the idea that navi was nothing but a guide given to link due to his possession of the hero's soul or whatever. navi was a FRIEND and a SUPPORT SYSTEM to a deeply traumatized, manipulated child who quite literally had no one else in the world on his side. and there's a lot of that echoed in majora's mask, especially the first day--you're alone, you're helpless and without a weapon, you're confined to clock town and treated as an inconvenient child by everyone you talk to. you have a fairy companion, yes, and she fills the gap somewhat, but tatl and tael always felt much more like children themselves than adult guides and supports the way navi did. tatl just doesnt quite have enough figured out herself to be as supportive to link in that situation as navi might have been. and in some ways this serves majora's mask quite well--it reminds the player of the "terrible fate" they've met with and lends to the weird atmosphere of clock town. it's a subtle signal that something is REALLY wrong.--the fairy, established in previous games as a species that served to guide you and tell you what to do, isn't quite sure what's going on either. but they had to retcon navi out of the story to get that effect. practically, thematically for majora's mask, a character like tatl works better than a character like navi, but it leaves a plot hole that demands explanation. all that being said, the only way I PERSONALLY am able to rationalize such an abrupt disappearance by navi is to say that something came up that she needed to deal with, but which was on the same or similar level as ganon, and navi, being the only adult in link's life who gave a shit about him, didn't want to subject the poor kid to anything else like that and so left him (hopefully temporarily) to deal with it alone, like any fucking responsible adult should (instead of idk putting a 9 year old to sleep for 7 years and then expecting him to be fine and willing to fight monsters the second he woke up.) there are holes in this interpretation, obviously, such as what the hell navi is dealing with and why, and why link had to set out to search for her at all if she told him what was going on, but canon gives us literally nothing so smaller plot holes are better than huge ones.

#WOW. AHAHA. THIS MIGHT BE MY LONGEST ONE TO DATE #sorry but you can't ask me anything about oot or mm without getting an essay in response and ESPECIALLY not about navi #asks #zelda analysis

[ruinedrainbowpooka]

. ItI am such a fucking slut for details and the set dressings for Glass Onion are just Thee Best Shit.

Claire’s kitchenette that has a very Lived In look and not the neat-n-clean Company Is Here look. The kids living in their pjs. The utter lack of anyone with a mask, even among the staff with her. The lived in mess that extends to the front half of her office but doesn’t touch where she’s doing her conference. The flag in front of the bookshelf in a prominent spot that blocks off access to a small section that if it actually lived there would be obnoxious. The little fucking shudder at the mention of Miles. The signs of how toxic her marriage is (including the healing black eyes she has that you can see so fucking well in the pool scene later; Claire has so many easily missed signs of being in a dv relationship - both with Miles and her husband - that my survivor ass was just going LOOOOK at).

Lionel’s set up at his lab. he small raised bit with the beanbag chairs on a carpet. A remote on one of them. They’re grouped so tightly that it’s probably where he’s sleeping. Water cooler, cereal dispensers, microwave, toaster, pitchers, disposable plates/napkins/utensils, TV that’s above him whether he’s standing or laying down (because of social religious things, for most people, looking up causes feelings similar to praying). And then that wide shot where we see the ping pong table and the office module. And how huge and vast the area is with that spotlight, illuminating just a circle around the delivery guy (head to toe in basically hazmat gear) and only him, just screaming how utterly isolated and alone Lionel is. And then immediately contrasted with the office area and how big and close the screens for his zoom calls are, making them literally life-sized on the other end. How neatly and precisely all of his papers are set on the table, but even in here, the lighting is focused on himself and just the few spaces he knows he’ll need the most. His connections to the outside world being his literal lights in the darkness. And then the camera changes angles and we see an utter mess of fax pages; Miles is the disaster in the centre of his order.

Birdie... man just the immediate set up that Peg is the adult in the room and Birdie is a fucking toddler. This massive party around her, she’s bored, so she immediately starts crying for mommy, who then has to walk her through admitting why she’s been grounded from her phone because her friends there (fuck toys of the night?) - who have some beautiful judgmental faces while Birdie isn’t looking - are going “mommy’s mean :(” and then the reminder of how long she’s grounded for. (One of two people I want More About: the man in the vampire tux. Who are you and why are you credited as ‘ Vampire in Tuxedo’?)

Duke’s fucking Gamer room, with that massive gamer chair and massive tv. His twitch room with the two cars, motorcycle, and sports things. But no interactive sports, they’re all solo sports. And then the fucking shelving units full of protein powders. [And then Ma who is Not Putting Up With His Shit (Ma, who are you; gimme stories about Ma. And is she the ‘guy’ who put together the puzzle boxes, since she just can tell him what’s going on in it without even looking?) and demanding that he doesn’t tell her to shut up or defend his being an asshole to her. Like I’ve seen people be like “Ma is abusive and that’s why he’s like he is” but look at his body language when he’s going off on her. It’s very threatening. Like she passes off the laundry basket when his hands come up.]

All the packing boxes and tarps in Andi’s garage, the focus on Andi’s emotional, heavy breathing, the silent signs of rage before she just obliterates the box. 

But then motherfucking Benoit’s bathroom. There’s at least four lotion-shaped bottles around the tub, another three bottles of hair-type things. The massive wine bottle, a decanter, and a glass of... what looks like lemonade?. That stack of like 30 books against the bathtub, a cup with a few pens in it, magazines, a couple crossword books, his rubber duck, the two laptops. His. fucking. toothbrush. (The Old Queen way he says ‘my mind is a fueled up racing car and I’ve got no where to drive it”)

The fucking DETAILS of it all.

#glass onion #long

[rmoonstoner]

So Strange

***

Note:

I am starting at the point of when Stephen is already in Tibet. We don't need a retelling of the story on how he got there, because it's literally the same.

First chapter is a bunch of memories/small blerbs about events that are different from the Canon timeline.

Warnings:

No major warnings at this time. Just a lot of whumpy feelings. Maybe some traumatic experience memories. Foul language. Story is PG to start, but will progress to NSFW/18+ eventually, with Stephen being paired with the fem!reader at a later date.

No one has proofread for me. If you are interested, please let me know. If you would like to be tagged, please let me know.

***

Chapter 1 - So Strange

***

How did he get here? He knew how, but why had he allowed himself to get to this low of a level, before reaching out for help. He was a jaded man that was desperate for his old life back, and in that desperation, he had rejected the ones he cared about most in this world. He had outright lashed out at the love of his life, because he couldn't accept his fate.

He tried everything to fix it, but nothing worked past getting his hands good enough to hold a cup, let alone being able to write. He once had beautiful writing, but now it looked worse than a family doctor's chicken scratched prescriptions.

He had exhausted all of his options, and when they all eventually failed, he would throw a fit and lash out at anyone whether or not they deserved it.

They never deserved it.

His friends and family, and eventually, his girlfriend all left him. They couldn't tolerate his crazed rants or frenzied plans to regain the original movement he once had in his hands. He had become ruder and meaner then he used to be. Now he resembled a very grumpy old man. He even had the scraggly beard, unkempt hair, and he looked older than he did during the accident. The graying streaks on the slide of his head were now more prominent and turned white from the stress and his constant misery. It was evident on his face where the wrinkles deepened.

Now here he sat, on dusty stone steps, watching the world go by as he leaned against the heavy wooden door of the Kamar-Taj. He had been turned away when he first arrived. It had been seven days since he refused to budge from the spot.

He was growing weaker by the day, having spent every last cent to his name. He only held a shitty flip phone and the watch he was gifted by his ex.

He was losing almost any hope of gaining entry to this mysterious place that claimed to be able to heal injuries that even his own colleagues could not (and did not want to) fix.

It came down to selling his watch. The only thing of sentimental value he had left of his beloved. He knew it held more monetary value and he needed food to survive…

So, as his stomach threatened to burn holes through his lining, he finally broke down and decided to sell the watch.

For the first time in days, he decided to leave the steps, going farther into the market with purpose. More so then when he went into the market when just going to find a spot to relieve himself.

He wandered the market, looking for a stall that would take his broken keepsake. He knew it was worth a pretty penny, even if it had damage. The glass plate could be replaced and the gears inside just needed to be realigned. After visiting three stalls, he finally found one that appeared to show interest in the watch. He was just trying to barter with one merchant, and getting told a resounding no, when another overheard the conversation.

"Excuse me, I saw that you're trying to sell your watch. May I have a look at it?" It was an old woman with a veil over her face.

She was dressed in old yellow robes and scraps of cloth. She didn't appear to be the type that could offer him anything helpful, but he was desperate. For once, he kept his snarky comments to himself and approached her with a slow nod.

"Yes. Yes, I am trying to sell my watch." He replied and held up the item in question. She glanced down and hummed.

"Aren't you that man that's been camped out on the temple steps for the past week?" She asked, and he nodded.

"The same one that was almost robbed of this very watch that you claimed meant the world to you?" She asked another question and he didn't hesitate.

"Yes." He murmured softly.

"Why have you changed your mind?"

"I… The person who gave this to me is no longer in my life, because I allowed my anger and my depression to get the better of me. I was cruel to her and pushed her away. It's value to me is no longer sentimental, but now a constant and unbearable reminder of how I failed her, and everyone around me."

"Ah, I see. It sounds more like you failed yourself by being much too harsh on yourself. Tell me, young man, what is it you need the money for?" She asked as she looked up to see his tired looking face.

"I am hungry. I need food. I am cold at night, and my blankets have holes. I want to use some of the money to use the bathhouse, because I am sure I smell terrible." Stephen explained through tears that threatened to spill from his eyes.

"Well you certainly do smell terrible. Tell you what, I shall give you a basket of fruits and veggies, some cheeses, dried meats, nuts, seeds, and grains. I can add bread and some water. On top of this, I will give you more every day for as long as you need, if you agree to help me with my chores. I cannot offer you a place to stay, but I can help you look for one." She said with a calm and kind voice.

He mulled it over for a few seconds, trying to decide if this was really worth giving away his watch. The woman waited patiently as he thought about it.

He was stuck in Tibet, with no money, and nothing else to his name. His hands were crippled and he was useless to find a normal job. His clothing was in tatters, and he had been starved for weeks, just barely able to get by.

"I… I accept your terms. What do you want me to do?" He sighed in defeat and passed the watch over to her.

"Thank you, Stephen. Here's your basket of goodies, and I'll see you again tomorrow at noon back here." The old woman said as she handed him a basket that definitely wasn't there before.

"Thank you, kindly." He was too hungry to question it, or how she knew his name. She hadn't turned the watch over to see the back engraving.

"Wait. Please take this as well." She added with a smile as he produced a weathered old guitar and a pack of new strings.

Stephen stared at the guitar, wondering if she'd lost her mind. It was such an insensitive gift, given that he had showed her his hands, yet he said nothing and took the gift anyway. He slung the guitar over his back and set the strings into his pocket as he thanked her again, but when he turned around, she and her stall were gone.

Baffled, he made his way back to the steps at the temple, sitting down and digging into the food he had received. He decided it was well worth the indentured servitude that was to come. He didn't even look at the guitar that night.

***

The next day, Stephen had returned to the old woman's stall. It felt like it was a few blocks closer then it was the day before, and Stephen was absolutely certain it was twenty blocks away, and not sixteen. He dismissed the oddity as her not being able to set up in the same place as before. Perhaps some other merchant had taken her previous spot. He didn't even bother to go check.

Today he was tasked with hanging up fabrics for one of her stall neighbors. It took him over an hour, but they were patient with him as he painstakingly clipped hangers to each garment and hung them up on hooks. He was given a basket of food, a voucher for the bathhouse, and then told to come back at the same time the next day.

Stephen happily went to the bathhouse with his basket and found a small spot in a corner next to a grumpy looking bald man. He was careful to avoid bothering him as he got to the stall where he was supposed to do a proper cleaning, before stepping foot into the shared water space.

He took his bags, the guitar, and his clothing off, setting them down in a way that gave him barely any privacy. He washed himself efficiently, but harshly, trying to scrub every bit of dirt and grime away as best as he could. His doctor's training had him washing certain areas repeatedly, to the point of using the sponge to turn his skin red. He even took the time to clean under his nails and wash his face and hair thoroughly, before he stepped into the warm pool of water.

"You sure took a long time over there." The man in the pool said.

Stephen blinked when he heard perfect English and he turned his head to look at him.

"I… I uh… I was backpacking for a while. Haven't had a chance to bathe."

"But you used the entire bar of soap."

"I like to be extra clean."

"You washed everything four times."

"I used to be a surgeon. Old habits die hard." Stephen sighed and he slowly sank down to his shoulders and leaned against the wall.

"A surgeon? Then why do you look like a homeless bum?"

Normally, Stephen would have been offended and had a snarky remark to show just how offended he was, but he had the wind knocked from his sails recently. He just sighed deeply and held his scarred and twisted looking hands up to show the man.

"Oh… I'm sorry I asked."

"It's alright. That was my old life. I'll never be a surgeon again." Stephen's voice was hollow as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the water.

"Why are you here, then?"

"I came here in the hopes of finding the Kamar-Taj and maybe receive help in repairing my hands. I apparently can't get them to even open the door for me." Stephen explained while he rubbed his tired feeling legs.

"Oh? They don't just let anyone in, you know."

"I know. I've given up for a bit. I am helping out a merchant with her stall to pass the time. She gives me food and drink, and she gave me a voucher to come here, so I don't scare her customers away with my funk." He laughed as he looked at his hands. They still had dark creases, stains from going so long without a cleansing.

"Well, perhaps you should take this time to help her and regain your strength."

"Yeah. I think I will."

The two men talked for a while. Stephen learned that his name was Hamir and that he lived nearby. He told Stephen stories of the local lore, areas to avoid, and areas that were a must see. Stephen offered to share his goodies with him, and they both happily ate and exchanged stories about their lives.

It wasn't long, before Hamir had to go, and Stephen decided he should leave as well. Again, he made his way back towards the temple with his little half empty basket and fell asleep against the doorframe.

***

For three weeks, Stephen kept coming back to the old woman's stall to do small tasks for her. Each time he made the journey, he found the stall had gotten closer each time. Fifteen blocks away, then twelve, and then ten. He thought it was very peculiar that she kept moving her stall, but he didn't question it at all. When the stall couldn't get any closer to the Kamar-Taj, it stayed still and didn't move again.

He also started to mess around with the guitar over these weeks. He tried it out and hated how the tuning sounded. He changed the strings and tuned it perfectly, yet his fingers could barely play. He would only practice when he sat at the steps of the temple, and he sounded awful.

He spent a week folding fine linens and packaging them up into protective canvas sacks. After work he would go back to the temple and practice until he fell asleep.

He spent another week hanging herbs and spices to dry. Again, he would go back and practice the instrument.

On the third week, he helped pack jars and envelopes with dried spices. He didn't even realize that each task was gradually getting harder and longer, nor did he notice that was gradually getting better at handling the guitar. He still sounded terrible, so he didn't even notice.

By the beginning of the fourth week, Hamir had found him again. Stephen was busy beating dirt and dust from the mats of several stalls around the one the old woman had. He was covered in dirt and sweat as the man approached the old woman and chatted with her for a few moments. Stephen glanced up and noticed Hamir, giving a wave, before going right back to work on the last mat.

"Hello! It's good to see you again!" Hamir said as he came up to Stephen. He didn't seem to mind the dust flying at him as Stephen worked.

"Hello, Hamir. It is good to see you again." Stephen greeted back with a half smile.

"I see you're working hard, just like you said you would." Hamir commented, causing Stephen to chuckle.

"I am trying to earn my keep. Granny Tilly has been so kind and patient. I owe it to her to help out, even if I am only able to do minimal tasks."

"Don't you find it beneath you?"

"I used to… But now… I am just grateful for any help that I can get." Stephen quietly admitted.

Hamir raised his brows and then gave Stephen a smile as he watched the broken man put the mat down and roll it up. Once he was done, he patiently stood back as he watched the old woman make up a small basket for Stephen to take away. Stephen gave his thanks and went to leave, when Hamir asked to accompany him back to wherever he went after work.

Along the way, Hamir asked Stephen a series of questions.

"Where do you go after work?"

"I go back to the temple and I sit outside of the doors. I practice with this old guitar that Grandma Tilly gave to me. I'm not very good at it."

"I see. Do you even knock? Surely they can hear you playing."

"Oh, yes. Certainly. I knock when I get back, but no one answers. I knock when I wake up, and again, no one answers. I've seen people go in and come out, but never when I am sitting by the door. By the time I can reach the door and knock, no one comes. When I play, no one complains or tells me to stop." Stephen said sadly and he flexed his hands repeatedly while switching the basket to his other hand every so often.

"Perhaps you need to do something else to gain their attention. Are you musically inclined at all?" Hamir asked with a small smile, but Stephen's face didn't change much from his pitiful expression.

"No. I don't play anything well. I've just been trying to get my fingers to move enough to make the chords."

"Shame-"

"But! I am very good at hearing pitch and tone, and I know all the musical terminology. I can tell you any song after hearing only a few seconds of it. Uh, if I have heard it before and know the name."

"Really?"

"Yes. There's an app that does that as well, and I can beat it frequently. I just need to hear a song once in its entirety to be able to remember it." Stephen said with a small smile beginning to develop at the corners of his face.

Hamir seemed both impressed and skeptical at this information. Without another word, he fished out a small iPod from his robes and turned it on. In seconds, a tune was playing, and Stephen's eyes lit up.

"Freebird, by Lynyrd Skynyrd. It came out in the beginning of November 1974, but was made in April on the 3rd, the previous year." He compulsively blurted out the answer and a little bit more. Hamir grinned and immediately changed the song.

"Wannabe, by the Spice Girls. Released on June 26th, 1996." Stephen happily said. Again the song changed.

"Boulevard of Broken Dreams, by Green Day. It was put out on November 29th, 2004." Stephen was now becoming excited.

He enjoyed this little game, and he missed it terribly when Christine and the other medical staff used to play it with him. Hamir was now fully invested in this, now actively looking for songs to stump Stephen. He picked an obscure song, hoping it would. Not even ten seconds into the song, Stephen snapped his fingers and hopped up and down with an answer.

"Maxwell's Silver Hammer. The Beatles. Recording started on July 9th through to the 11th, and finished on August 6th of 1969. It was released on September 26th the next month." Stephen had a good hold on the song.

Almost every song Hamir presented to him, he genuinely enjoyed. He wasn't a fan of the Spice Girls, but it didn't bother him.

"Fantastic job, but are you willing to keep this game going?"

"Oh, yes. Throw anything you want at me. If you stump me, that'll surprise me. All I ask, is that if I haven't heard it, that we listen to it in its entirety, then you tell me what it's called and the artist who made it."

"Deal. I'll even do you one better. I'll let you read the Wiki page for it, so you can get all the neat little facts. Next, try this one." Hamir grinned as he hit play on the next song.

"Get Along. It is the theme song to the Japanese Anime, Slayers, season one. It aired on April 7th, 1995. It was performed by Megumi Hayashibara and Masami Okui, and the lyrics were written by Satomi Arimori. It was composed by Hidetoshi Satō, and it was arranged by Tsutomu Ōhira." Stephen said, much to Hamir's surprise.

"How the hell did you even know that one?"

"My ex's niece used to watch it. I found it… Weird, but it was entertaining. I enjoy that animation style quite a lot actually. A little odd they focused a lot on how large the main character's breasts were. That shouldn't be an issue when Lina is a powerful sorceress that can burn a man to a crisp." Stephen said as he went into detail about the show. He wouldn't admit it, but he loved anime for the extremely complicated magic portrayal they had.

"Well I don't think I am going to use any more anime, then. Here, try this one on for size." This time Stephen was listening for a good forty seconds, and Hamir thought he had finally stumped Stephen, when Stephen again, spoke up.

"Yuve Yuve Yu, by The Hu, and that's H U, not W H O. I was told it was released in 1998."

"Okay, now how do you know this one?"

"I heard it at the airport when I first came here. I liked it enough, that I asked who the artist was."

"I'm impressed. Ah, it looks as though we have arrived at the temple." Hamir announced as he motioned to the door.

Stephen frowned. For the first time in a while, he had been genuinely enjoying himself and now it was cut short.

"Oh… Yeah… I guess you have to go now, right?"

Hamir nodded and waited. Stephen stared at him, then looked back at the door. Reluctantly, he went up and gave a good couple of knocks and stood back to wait. After a few moments, Stephen sighed and his shoulders slumped.

Hamir stepped forward. Stephen was confused, because no one had answered. Was is friend going to try again for him?

Hamir got up to the door and cleared his throat, before knocking a certain way.

Knock, knock.

Pause.

Knock.

Pause.

Knock, knock, knock.

"Hey, it's alright. They won't answer." Stephen sighed and placed a hand to Hamir's shoulder.

No sooner had he spoken, then the door opened with a loud creak. The same man that had saved Stephen from his attack earlier that month was standing there with a hard look on his face that quickly changed when he saw Hamir.

"Oh! Master Wong! It's good to see you! How was your day out?" The man said as he respectfully bowed before Hamir.

Stephen's face fell into shock as Hamir smiled and bowed back. His jaw slowly dropped and Hamir turned to him with twinkling eyes.

"Master Mordo, can you please get some tea ready for my guest?" Hamir requested and he motioned for Stephen to come forward.

Stephen's mouth snapped shut and he came over while looking particularly nervous. Hamir let him in, while Mordo left to grab some tea.

"Master… Wong?" Stephen asked and looked around the inside of the building as he processed the title's meaning.

"Ah, yes. My name is Master Hamir Wong. Please, just call me Wong. I am one of the many masters here at the Kamar-Taj. Please, have a seat."

Stephen was promptly given a chair to sit in, with it literally being shoved under him. He sat down awkwardly and looked around, finding no one there that could have shoved the chair at him. When he looked back, there was now a coffee table, and a cup of steaming hot tea.

"So, Doctor Strange… I've gotten to know you over a few meetings. I've seen the good you've been doing for Grandma Tilly, and the other market vendors. She's said that you don't complain about the tasks she gives you, but you do moan and mope about your lost life and your sore hands. I mean, that's fair, given everything you have gone through."

Stephen hung his head and went to pick up the tea cup with both of his shaking hands as Wong continued to speak.

"I also know why you came here. You wish to heal yourself. I believe you can, and move on from the sadness you are drowning in. With time, you will even regain almost one hundred percent of the use of your hands."

Stephen's face lit up and he sat up in his seat. He looked down at his twisted fingers and then back up at Hamir.

"Almost completely?" He asked hopefully. A small part of him still clung to the idea that he could go back to his glamorous old life of being a surgeon.

"That depends on you, and your willingness to surrender yourself to our teachings." A familiar voice rang out.

Stephen looked over to see the old woman he had been helping. She had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, and now she looked far younger than she did before. She was dressed in golden robes with fine embroidery, and she gave Stephen a knowing smile.

Again his jaw dropped.

"Grandma… Tilly?"

"Yes, but also no. My name is Master Yao, but everyone calls me the Ancient One. I am pleased that you have proven yourself worthy enough to gain entry into this place. I had Master Mordo and Master Wong follow you around. Mordo stayed hidden, up until you were assaulted, then he vanished again to keep an eye on you. Wong's role to was to see how you react to others that weren't helping you with anything, except friendship."

"So… You were testing me all that time?"

"Yes, Stephen, I was. I have seen many possible futures, and instead of being harsh on you, I decided that we should take a different path, the one you've just gone down. It was either that, or the path where I put you in your place by sending you to Mount Everest to nearly freeze to death."

Stephen's face fell and he looked confused.

"What? Possible futures? Choosing a different path? What does that mean?" He asked and she slowly sat down in front of him.

With a wave of her hand, she made another teacup appear on the table, and then it began to fill with with piping hot tea. Stephen watched, transfixed as she had a sip, and started to move her hand. The tea cup set itself down onto the table and she gave him a smile.

"It means, that had you been allowed to enter our sanctuary the first week you arrived, you would have been ten times more insufferable than your current self." She explained and showed him a small viewing orb with scenes of him helping her and the other merchants.

"By asking for your help as a feeble old woman, you learned to listen to others that you once considered beneath you. It allowed you to work on using your hands and getting used to real work again. It helped you calm down, and be less angry with yourself and the world. It taught you respect and manners, and how to take what life gives you and be less, how the kids say, angsty about it." When Yao finished, the orb faded away, the last image was of Stephen giving her the watch.

Stephen was mesmerized by the display of what he could only call magic. It explained the appearing chair when no one was there. It explained the suddenly there tea, with no sign of Master Mordo, the one who was tasked with getting the tea in the first place. It explained the viewing orbs and the way the woman had made her own tea appear, and even tilted the cup to show him how it was slowly filling with tea.

But that wasn't possible, was it?

Sure, there were supernatural things out there, but science had explained almost all of them

Tony Stark's whole deal with his technology and the reactor core in his chest. But it was science, not magic.

How genetics had mutated the human genome to create Mutants, Inhumens, Spiders, and other closely related things. Again, science.

Black Widow and Captain America were modified through scientific testing and research.

Hawkeye had professional training to be the sharp shooter that he was. That was a special science as well.

Doctor Bruce Banner, a man Stephen highly respected, had been turned into The Hulk by Gamma radiation when he really should have died…

But it did not explain how the Mighty Thor could use a hammer that seemingly had no tech inside to power it, or help the supposed God fly. It didn't explain the lightning, or the basic fact that Thor, was most indeed, Thor from the legends.

It did not explain Wanda, the Scarlet Witch. Her name was literally screaming, 'Magic!'

He looked down at his tea, and smacked his lips, then he looked up at Yao. He was starting to think that he might have possibly been drugged with something. Maybe she had been microdosing him with mushrooms or something…

"And no, Doctor, it's not psilocybin, or LSD, or anything else for that matter. It is just tea, with a little honey. What you are seeing is very real, and you can learn to do it, too." She said calmly as she pulled yet another orb up and showed Stephen images from his past.

It started with his sister's death, moved on to him studying, then showed him graduating.

A whole montage of Stephen played while he was working at the hospital. It showed him moving up in the rankings of the best surgeon in the city within weeks of landing a job. Within three months, he had become a sensation in the medical world, and was the top surgeon for all of the world.

But then more of those hospital images played, showing just how dark and unkind Stephen had become over time. It showed the many people he had refused, just because their insurance wouldn't cover the procedures, or that they just weren't interesting cases. A high mortality rate followed his refusal to do those surgeries, and the ones that lived, had twisted and horrible lives.

It showed the one man he had refused. The one that was desperate and begged Stephen to take his case, but the doctor had given him a resounding 'No.' Stephen wasn't swayed by the tears he had shed. It was the same man Stephen had later begged and pleaded with to share his secrets to his healing process.

Another image played, going to the car accident. Stephen could have sworn he saw two images playing at once. One appeared to show the actual crash, exactly how it happened, with him ending up with his broken hands. The other that overlapped it, showed the same crash, but Christine was with him, and she ended up dead.

He was horrified to see that secondary image. He felt goosebumps prickle his skin all over, and he swallowed thickly, before going for his tea. He never even thought about that possibility. Stephen grabbed his tea and drank another sip, thankful that didn't actually happen to him, even if it felt very real.

"Now, Doctor Stephen Strange, a doctor by experience and title. You will never be the man you once were. You've been through a lot, and now is the time for your metamorphosis. Do you wish to see the world the way that we do?"

Stephen didn't hesitate. He nodded vigorously and put his tea down to clap his hands together. If he could achieve these things, he wouldn't need medicine anymore. He could live his life, becoming one with the world, and hopefully heal his hands and his very soul.

He didn't even stop to think about a valid protest to her offer. The fact she had already stated she had seen possible futures, told him she had lived this moment before. That she already dealt with him, and he had been just as snotty and snide as he had been a year prior. From what she had done and shown him, he was ready to believe her more easily this go around.

He also didn't even want to think about the fact it was possible he had already lived that moment as well.

Yao smiled warmly at him and nodded as she picked up her tea and had a long sip. When she put it down, the cup was empty, save for some bits of tea leaves at the bottom.

"Prepare to be open with me. Let your mind settle, and close your eyes. Surrender yourself to the flow of energies that make up this world, and the Multiverse."

Stephen closed his eyes, yet his mind did not clear. He was stuck on the word 'Multiverse' and he felt a pit in the bottom of his gut as his brain went into overdrive.

Flashes of being here, doing this, and meeting these people, all zipped through his mind. He saw many different versions of this single moment. Ones where he was explosive and in full denial of what was happening, to others where he sat quietly and asked far too many questions, and the more he asked, the less he knew. Then some of them showed images of himself where his hands were straight up gone, and more still where they had absolutely nothing wrong with them. The last one being what she had told him. All of them showed him doing great things with magic, things he had only ever seen on television.

Those variants of these events showed him what he could become, and gave him glimpses of what his world would be like.

He was terrified to say the least.

But then a sudden thought entered his mind.

Would this all have happened if he had chosen music over medicine?

His sister Donna had always enjoyed music. They used to play the guessing game he had played with Wong and his colleagues. Donna had happily played with him whenever he had asked, and she made it her mission to try to stump him whenever she could. She once told him he should be a guitarist, because he had long and thin fingers.

He never did, and instead, took up medicine when she died. He vowed to save every life that he could from then on.

Then the thought of all those he had turned away entered his mind and Stephen broke down, tears silently streaking down his face. He couldn't even do that, because he had become cocky and forgotten the reason why he even became a doctor in the first place. He became too self assured and bored. He wouldn't take a case, unless it was extremely baffling and new, or if it wasn't, it had to be a good paying job. He didn't do charity work, unless it was a challenge or fame was attached.

Stephen was about to open his eyes, when Yao hummed.

"Keep them closed, doctor. We're not finished, yet."

Stephen listened, and he tried his best not to let a sob break the silence of the room. He knew he looked pathetic, crying like a child in front of people he barely knew, but he didn't care at this point. If these people hadn't let him into their lives, he probably would have done something incredibly stupid.

The darkness he saw while his eyes were closed suddenly became a bright and multicolored array of lights. He could hear music playing, one of his favorite songs, Interstellar Overdrive, by Pink Floyd.

In an instant he was jolted forwards, with everything in his vision flying past him as he was moved through outer space. He zipped past nebulae and galaxies. He slowed down when he went by stars, planets, and moons, giving him just enough time to really get a good look. A large rocky belt of debris floated around him as he witnessed a supernova and an explosion of comets as a direct result.

All the bright colors against that vast black expanse filled his very soul with wonder and awe. He took in everything, feeling like this was only real in his dreams or the actual vastness of space.

The scenery changed again and he was suddenly flying back through space, going directly towards a certain blue and green planet. In the blink of an eye, he could now only see the surface of what he assumed was Earth as he was sent shooting towards Tibet and back into his body at the Kamar-Taj.

The landing was not graceful. He came into contact with his body, just like he would have if he had hit the ground from a twenty story fall, but all that physically happened, was him falling off of his chair to the floor. He landed on his ass with a loud thump and he gasped as his eyes opened. He had even more tears of emotion on his face and his beard were soaked, as was the collar of his ratty shirt and jacket.

"Please, Master Yao, teach me." He begged as he got to his knees while holding his hands in a silent prayer.

"And so it shall be done, Doctor Stephen Vincent Strange."

***

Note:

Hamir the Hermit was comic book Wong's father. We don't get a first name for Wong, but I thought it would be neat if he had his father's name. It's relevant to the next chapter. Let me know what you think.

First chapter and name of the fic is So Strange, by Polyphia.

Tags:

#doctor strange #doctor stephen strange #stephen strange #guitar strange #eventually smut #doctor strange x female reader #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange x you

[nikibogwater]

Niki Blethers: Daniel Spellbound first impressions:

I’ve only watched the first episode, so I’m not considering anything I talk about here as Spoiler Territory, but if you want to go in to this show absolutely 100% blind, maybe skip this post.

The short version: Color me intrigued. 

Followers of mine already know that I am a huuuuuuuge fan of the Tales of Arcadia series on Netflix (sans the movie–we don’t talk about the movie), so when I first heard the premise for Daniel Spellbound, it immediately struck me as being in a similar vein as that series.

It’s an urban fantasy following the magical misadventures of a teenager and a talking pig. What’s interesting about this premise to me is the fact that our main characters start the series already fully aware of and participating in the magical underground that exists beneath New York City. Daniel isn’t some normal kid who discovers this magical world by accident, he’s been living and working in it for years by the time of the first episode. 

Speaking of Daniel, I like him as our main protagonist so far. He’s a quick-thinking, fast-talking, maybe-sorta-rule-breaking kid who has obviously been alone for way too long. He works as a Tracker–someone who hunts down magical artifacts and ingredients for wizards to use in their spells–but he doesn’t take any pride in his work, and even describes magic as “a scam.” Right out of the gate he’s shown to have no qualms about taking even the lowest, most disgusting jobs if it means getting paid (our introduction to him is literally him sticking his arm in a mound of troll crap to retrieve the mushrooms growing inside). But there’s also a quiet warmth to him, which comes out most prominently in his interactions with Hoagie the magical talking pig.

I’m gonna be up front here, when I first saw Hoagie’s design in a promo image, I was SO ready to hate him. Like, I know it’s not fair to hold him to the same standard as Archie the Cat-Dragon from ToA: Wizards, but I couldn’t help it. So I was pleasantly surprised to find that Hoagie….is actually very tolerable. And there is an in-universe reason for the eyepatch, a very dark and traumatic reason that hasn’t been outright stated, but heavily implied. 

Hoagie himself is actually very similar to Daniel, being a little self-centered and extremely sarcastic. I really like the dynamic between the two of them as a result. They butt heads more often than not (Hoagie’s best character moments are when he is just aggressively sassing the ever-living daylights out of Daniel), but their back and forth can be very fun, and it’s really satisfying to see them come out of the first episode as a newly-formed team. 

I can see Hoagie’s character being obnoxious to some (especially since he spends the majority of the first episode being a pain in Daniel’s neck), but I ended up tentatively liking him, and I really like the potential for friendship that has formed between him and Daniel. 

This show’s portrayal of magic is very fun and creative. From a hotdog vendor making duplicates of himself to expand his business reach, to a half-pint witch known for her highly dangerous magical pies and her propensity for holding intense grudges, it really feels like magic in this world is full of infinite possibilities, and not just limited to flashing lights and floating books. 

The magical environments reflect this as well, creating a very cool contrast with the drab and mundane New York City. I especially love the creature design of the trolls in the first part of the episode.

The animation is serviceable. It’s pretty obvious that they were on a tight budget, but that’s not something I hold against them. In fact, I have to commend the animators and directors for their clever management of limited resources. As I said above, the magical environments are extremely creative and even downright breathtaking in some shots. Character animation can be a little weightless from time to time, especially during an action sequences, but if that’s the show’s biggest flaw in terms of visuals, they’re doing pretty good. 

The dialogue can feel a little weird and choppy here and there, but it’s definitely nowhere near as bad as some other shows/movies I’ve seen. 

Overall, I’m interested to see where this series goes. I want to see more of the magical underworld, I want to learn more about Daniel, and I’m eager to see more of him and Hoagie bonding (or just Hoagie sassing him some more, honestly both are good). I don’t want to jump the gun and say it’s great, but from the first episode, I can safely say that it’s got a lot of great potential, enough that I’m going to keep watching and see where they go with that. Depending on how it turns out, I may do a longer and more comprehensive post about the series as a whole, but for now, I can at least say that it is worth checking out and seeing for yourself. 

#niki blethers #semi-review #daniel spellbound #netflix

[tomonari-nue]

Hi! May i ask what you think of fans who keep preaching that Gojo has a god complex/that he's a whore and has a massive whore behavior?

Also how he's a narcissist because he took of his glasses for those pre-teen girls at Riko's school and where teacher gave him her number/ or tried to at least? Dude was shook. That was literally just a "shitty" teenage behavior more than anything else ff

Am I missing something? I know for a fact that Akutami's comments, especially regarding Gojo are more often than not trolls but fandom really likes to take it at face value and put Gojo into this one-dimemsional petty character.

But yeah, popular characters do tend to be done the dirtiest by the fandom.

honestly i dont really care for them. like sure i'll joke that perhaps they arent reading the same manga as me and everybody knows that i, a random stranger on the internet, am always correct and right in whatever i say–

that said, due to the generous use of symbolism of buddhist belief in the manga, i believe Gojo's whole God-Speech is more in line with Enlightenment than the acquisition of godhood. my friend @nanamispto actually had an amazing theory on that!! also, i wouldnt really call Gojo a narcissist as much as he's mostly just arrogant and eccentric. but to be fair, he IS the most powerful person in the world, so i guess he's earned that and also i think he's just very aware of the power he wields and the potential for total annihilation it holds.

my belief is that Gojo basically plays an act of being uppity, arrogant and annoying in order to mask the fact that he's the world's most powerful entity. in a way, he just likes making ppl think of him that way in order to cover up his vulnerability as he knows how painfully human he actually is. like, him getting locked into the Prison Realm was basically caused by him having a very emotional and human moment – Kenjaku was literally betting on Gojo having a one second reaction to seeing them in Geto's body. one second of genuine emotions, thats all it took. i think the concept of humanity and Gojo are very closely intertwined.

however, i do sometimes joke that this guy is a harlot but mostly only bc he always gets those needlessly extra poses like he's trying too hard to be good-looking like sir why do you need to spread your legs like that, there is literally no need. i love him and his complex characterisation, but i also think he's annoying and i want to grab his silly little mask and let it snap back against his face. this man is canonically bitchless, like GETO was the more popular one between the two of them – sure Gojo would attrat ppl by looks alone but as soon as he opens his mouth its game over kjDKBJKJF–

but yeah! i think it's sad a lot of really great and multifaceted characters are taken and then molded into one prominent trait, disregarding any cause for it or origin that made the characters act the way they did. it takes everything interesting away i think.

#cursed technique: ask

[colorguardsweetheartblurrsgirl]

Please tell me I'm not alone:

#writers on tumblr

Going what is intended to be a maybe 1 or 2 hour story ramble that had a set purpose. Start talking about situations, forgetting or being caught in the midn as you record or just ramble to think through the story. End up going past two hours as you describe only to yourself for notes intricate plot details, random facts on other characters, or more world building. Next you check another two hours goes but you are on such a streak you promise to go and get soemthingntoneat to your growling stomach soon as this thought finishes which is almost clearly done. But then over explaining the plot to no one but yourself more of what you know but want recorded down. Going I promise at this time to turn it off. Next you check it's an hour past that point of stop time you set fir yourself. But your finally wrapping it up! Just a little more, few more minutes you tell yourself. Only to check the clock realizing there is no stop and it's agin two yours since you made that comment this sesh keeps going what you were enar wrapping up only found a way to add m.j ro plotted scenes to your mind and dekwelling on what if scenarios for a story that hasn't yet been released.🤣😂

Literally describes me making recorded note from 8:40 PM-6:40 AM.🤣😂😅😭😢

I've got a headache now!!! It worries me that my recording program says only 3:47 (hrs/min) but it was continually recording. Makes me wonder if I missed and or wasted more talking and it will come out as jibberish.😢😭😅😂🤣

Heres the art work that kept me company during these long periods.

Note comic is not the actual comic, but another proof of concept to a later scene I wanted to play around with for some time now, and I'm near writting the chapter out for, fully. I've written certain scenes for it throughout to keep plot details consistent of what has to happen. Before I have written it. Although most of the outline has been written story elements ahve changed from my initial outline. Just was jotting down on paper before I tried anything with it digitally.

This is mostly a mess & not in anyway my best drawing (looking to the weird outstretched hand. That was just a random quick drawing without reference jsut trying tonmoce through the drawing quick. But leaving enough deletsik for me to hbderstandbthebintetion should I go with the same story movement here when implementing the chapter. This was me just trying out a few things I wanted to see out on paper to make sure what I was seeing in my head would translate well in a comic. Not all are detailed slides but with enough detail to what I for myself am going for and wanting at said times to understand with a quick glance.

E.g the quickly drawn hand is so not the best drawn hand just a quick render to know what I wanted. Or for reference I had one short box presenting a dark area of thhe short dialogues pacing between frames. This I later returned and drew the figures standing instead over the current dialogue given instead the same impression the short dialogue gave using perspective to shape this and drawing over dialogue that may be unnecessary. But instead make it in between two more prominent frames a similarly long one added pulled back image of the scene. Allowing for more emotion to be felt through the black space surrounding the characters.

Similarly in my first proof of concept I hinted to a while bsck in a previous update shwoing some images from it. Where elements have since been added like this change and added slides as it is like yg to make it into the story, but the concept remained to ensure the way I was intending things would work to be added. But it in itself may be as is or in an adapted way make it in the comic or stay outside it maybe to be posted as a side story alongside a rest period or just something I show later patreons, etc . This is just a frame of reference to use as I get further along and a way for me to ensure directions I'm headed would work in the way I intend.

The below is related to S.T.R.Y.

#writtingcommunity #writerslife #writeblr #writers and poets #writing #writers on tumblr #writerscreed #writersofinstagram #fanfic writers #writerscommunity #female writers #henry stickmin #henry stickmin au #henry stickmin collection #someone to remember you #henry stickmin ask blog #someone to remember #the henry stickmin collection #henry stickman fanart #henry stickmin comic #henry stickmin fanmade #henry stickmin fanart #henry stickmin oc #henry stickmim collection #thsc henry stickmin #toppat henry #thsc art #thsc oc #thsc au #thsc

[doodlegirl1998]

Thinking on the whole "Aldera allowed BK to bully Izu" and how Inko is so...uncaring for such fact may be accidental or not...

There are others schools out there...why Izu had to stay in Aldera? Legit. Why? If Inko is so poor she cant afford a new school it would be smth but...the fact she doesnt even try, she is so out of reality...its concerning.

Also...Aldera has (or should have )parents meetings(parents and teachers meeting one another) are the teachers the best actors in the world to convice Inko "your son happy here" or she just dont care?

Another thing: BK is from a rich family...he could have gone to a big school but stay on Aldera. Reason? "To make his hero origin story look good"

1) why? Where this idea comes from? Is AM from a poor background and reach stardom from day to night?

2) does others heroes care for "proper hero background"?

Inko is a bad mom in canon...ironically, bashing fics got it wrong. She doesnt light cigars on her son nor let him starve...she just...do nothing.

Hi @mikeellee 👋,

This. This is where I see Hori's lack of exploration into Izuku's childhood to be a massive problem. Inko is never seen to try literally anything to prevent Izuku's bullying.

A common defense I hear of her is that, "Izuku hid it from her so she had no idea" and while that may be the case later let me ask; does anyone seriously think a four year old can hide being hurt constantly? Let alone being exploded?

So there is two options here:

She could have been too poor to change Izuku's schools / move homes. If this is case - Explore that HORI! That could have been common ground for IzuOcha to bond over!! Not only that but it would have gave Inko a sympathetic reason why she didn't go this route. Hori should have coupled this with a few brief shots of her in the manga showing her trying to speak with teacher, Mitsuki etc... That could have shown a sympathetic and good prominent mother figure.

She saw Izuku being hurt for being quirkless and viewed his suffering as inevitable so did not try to do anything to prevent what he was going through. This is the option that makes Inko look the worst - but also lines the most up with canon in my view. There's metas out there saying that, despite the Midoriya's living in an apartment, they are rich / well off by the interior Hori designs for them (maybe not as much as Bkg but comfortable.) So no monetary boundary to moving. There's the fact that Inko is quick to say "I'm sorry Izuku" and cry on him when he's being diagnosed as quirkless which... It feels like Inko is now expecting the worst for him/ Izuku's future in this diagnosis - which would explain her inaction. (Note - she only tries to protect him after Izu gets a quirk too, by threatening to take him out UA, which lines up with this theory.)

With the Bakugou part - that's just Bakugou's stupidity and ego coming out full swing.

Logically speaking, it would make more sense to go to be best school - rather than whatever Aldera is - to maximise the chances of getting in UA. But Baku is so up his own ass he believes he is innately the best.

First, who lets their child pull this sort of shit when they genuinely want the best for them? Why doesn't Mitsuki sit Bkg down and tell him he's being an idiot? She's done it before. And should do it here.

Second, I WISH this bit him in the ass. I wish he got lower down the scoreboard then third on the term rankings. Or even, failed the entrance exam, got expelled by expellzawa - just anything! Because then it would show Bkg is his own worst enemy.

Third, maybe Baku pulled this deliberately because he knew Aldera would let him get away with being a POS. If Bkg went to a top school do you think they would let him get away with being an abusive turd? Short answer no. If they expelled him - game over for his dream of heroism too. Baku probably knew Aldera would likely fudge things for him to help him get in UA to make themselves look good.

We don't know enough about AM in canon but I do presume that he was from a poorer background due to this view of Bkg's otherwise Bakuboo would not have cared about being seen as "coming from poverty."

TLDR - Inko sits by and does nothing for her son while he was quirkless and being severely bullied because Hori writes her poorly. But there's no nice implication as to why this is the case.

Bakugou is an arrogant idiot who is his own worst enemy - or would be if Hori making him the strongest plot armour all the time.

And AM needs his origins explored - where's the underdog rising to be the number one hero origin story, Hori?

#mha critical #bnha critical #anti bakugou katsuki #anti bakugou #Midoriya Inko critical