#and i can't even say: indeed... The Character... it is my affliction...

[dataframe]

it's been quite a while since i've had to manually adjust/steady my breathing whenever i think of The Muse. congratulations qingyuan you have successfully breached peak autism <3

[madamechrissy]

Priest! Gojo - MDNI- freaky, horny Father Gojo, Imma end up in hell for this one lmaoo, including confessional fucking, please don't read if you don't wanna SIN mmkay, character in her 20s as is Gojo, explicit -word count- 1.2k

Full Priest oneshot- Forgive me Father for I have Sinned

Priest! Gojo who watches you sit in that sundress in that pew right up front, crossing your legs, revealing those pretty pink panties that drive him to think of sin, drives him to imagine being on his knees, worshipping your pretty body. Surely you are sin.

Priest! Gojo who is so beautiful you think he's a god himself, with his crystal blue eyes and that white hair, that perfect face so serene until his eyes hit you, and something... shifts.

Priest! Gojo who licks his lower lip as he reads the bible passage, and watches how you run your fingers down your collarbone, hips shifting in your seat, craving friction as you watch the man command the room in this white robes, as you watch him lick a thumb as he shuffles a page, you get wetter and wetter, knowing you're just a sinner, craving this holy man.

Priest! Gojo who when you come and take your eucharist, your tongue hanging out while on your knees, caresses your bottom lip as you swallow, eyes hungry as you're right at his lap with your face, seeing his huge length semi hard even under his robes. The wine drips down your chin, and he pictures his cum replacing it instead, making him even harder as he looks at you.

Priest! Gojo who takes your confession, and fuck what a confession it is, as you're in the little confessional. 'I dream of someone fucking me, someone I should not.' 'It's natural to have thoughts, my child...' 'Oh, Father... but I play with myself, thinking of him. Of his pretty mouth... drinking me, father. Or me, on my knees, drinking him.' Priest Gojo makes a choking sound then. 'I'm so sorry, I..."

Priest! Gojo who is rock hard now, pressing against his pants under those white robes, who feels sticky precum as he sees you through the lattice of the cross in the wall that seperates you, as he sees you arch your back, head tilting, hair falling. He starts stroking his cock over them, as you bite your lower lip, heating him huff, asking 'Father, what should my Pennance be? How long should I be... on my knees, I wonder?' and Father Gojo can't help himself.

Priest! Gojo who says, 'I have to ask, how are you doing it, just so I can know what pennance, how many Hail Mary's' and you bite your lip, hot in the itty bitty room now, as your hips rock on the bench as you hear that husky voice of his. 'Father, I don't know how to say how... I guess I picture him, in my mind he is shirtless, and he's laying on top of me, so I play with my...' 'go on, it's all right' he whispers. 'my pussy, I play with it, it gets so wet, so aching, how do I handle this... Father... are you okay?'

Priest! Gojo who now has his cock in his hand and is stroking it, picturing you playing with yourself with his eyes shut, you say something but it's hard for him to listen as he's pinching his tip and imagining it between your thighs, he imagines you're so sweet, you're such a good girl, aren't you? 'Indeed I am, perhaps you need some help, some guidance? So that I could make sure you do not afflict yourself so.' You nearly touch yourself again as you hear him, his pants, as you barely see his robes move up and down, making you wetter 'yes, Father I need guidance'

Priest! Gojo who has you in his side of the confessional then, and he's crooking two long fingers, as you shut the door behind you, shoved right between his thighs, feeling his body heat as he looks at you, his cross right on his chest. 'Show me what you do, do not fret, it's god's will of course, through me.' You nervously let him lift your dress, and he slides down your panties, moaning softly as he sees your cunt, glistening. You rub between your slick lips, head falling back as you play your little clit.

Priest! Gojo who is close to cumming just from watching you, and sighs, putting his fingers right on your hand. 'Let me help you, so you can get this affliction taken care of, yes?' you nod eagerly, then Father Gojo has sunk two long fingers in your slick heat, hitting spots you could never, and you gush around him, as he pulls you on his lap, and you grip that silky hair. 'F-father Gojo! That's... that's...' he exhales, thumb slipping to your clit now, as he watches your pretty face flush. 'I've got you, you can let go, you're safe with me, let me see your sins so I can cleanse them.'

Priest! Gojo who's hand is soaked, as he brings you higher and higher, and you're moaning against his neck, inhaling his scent as you cling to him, trembling. 'Father, it's... I'm gonna... mmm!' You're so close, soaking the sleeve of his robe now. And he's so ready to slide into your eager cunt, looking up at you behind snowy lashes. 'Show me how you sin, let me watch you cum, so I can... help you' and you fall apart then, pulsing around his fingers, and he groans as he watches you, sucking your juices off his fingers.

Priest! Gojo who tastes you, then watches you with a smirk, which no priest should have! 'Has it alleviated some of the... need, my child?' only for you to shake your head, straddling him on his little chair then, and his big hands grip your hips. 'it's only made it worse, Father Gojo! You must help me, I need to sin even more... and with who I'm thinking of.' He blinks a bit. 'Me, you think of? that is a sin.' You sigh, grinding on him, making a wet spot in his robes. 'I know, Father... I told you, I am consumed by the need to sin. You must save me.'

Priest! Gojo who is now thrusting into your tight little cunt, in the cramped confessional, as you're riding his cock, as he's slamming your cervix, and you're soaking his length. He's holding your mouth shut as he bucks up his hips, watching the lust and pleasure on your face, feeling you drool on his hand and his cock. 'That's it, let me save you, through... ah... mmm... God's wisdom." He sucks in a breath as he presses in so deep, and feels you cum all over him, burying his head against your breasts, biting at your tender skin. You can only whimper in response.

Priest! Gojo who whispers 'I'll bless you, do you want me to bless you, to fill you with so much... of... god's light?' he removes his hand, gripping your ass now, and you nod as you grind on his length, his tip bruising your cervix, as you're cumming again, all over your priest. 'Bless me, Father... please!' You beg, only for him to cum deep inside you, hot white ropes, as you're blinded by pleasure, as it's dripping back down the veins of his length, and he's hissing, capturing your lips in a kiss, sloppy, tongues messy and unpracticed, a string of spit between you hanging.

Priest! Gojo who watches you the next Sunday, and you open your legs to cross them, only for him to see you have no panties, and he fears he will have to work harder to save your slutty little soul.

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

Marvel have screwed up 4 Spider-Man cartoons in a row. Combined with Spider-Man and his Amazing Friends from the 80s they clearly have a fetish for Spider-Man having a social circle of fellow superheroes and so I wouldn't be surprised if the characters in YFNSM who were swiped from other super hero titles will indeed wind up as those superheroes.

Also, am I the only one grossed out that for the sake of having a diverse cast they swiped from all these different superhero brands and race and/or gender swapped other characters when they could have just used the actually diverse characters from actual Spider-Man comic books?

Like, why swipe Nico Minoru from Runaways when Sha Shan was right there!

Why bother race swapping Norman and Harry Osborn* or do a borked adaptation of Tombstone (where he is neither albino nor connected to Joe Robertson at all) where he is your Flash Thompson substitute when you could have used Hobie Brown and/or Randy Robertson?

Why crowbar in Amadeus Cho or a random Wakandan woman when you could give some attention to Phillip Chang and Glory Grant?

Why have a race/gender swapped version of Curt Connors, a character for whom his masculinity is probably critical for various reasons,** when you could use Komodo?

You can't even argue that these characters are too obscure to be used because to normies, shit even amongst most comic book fans, Nico Minoru and Amadeus Cho are also obscure as shit.

This isn't even getting into the sacrilege that is how they utterly FUCKED Spider-Man's origin, both in terms of how they handled the spider bite and Uncle Ben's death and by having Norman positioned as his father figure.

Not to mention...the animation. Shit is the animation janky AF. I literally watched an episode from the MTV Spider-Man TV show to compare it to YFNSM and, whilst that has aged, it was in practically every regards VASTLY superior to this garbage. That includes the CGI animation btw. Yes, this show's animation is WORSE than a Spider-Man TV show from over 20 years ago!

Shit dude, I remember people hated the MTV show back in the day, but looking back that was only because we were spoilt without knowing it. Back in 2003, the comics, cartoons, video games, movies, etc that we were getting were all different, they all had their unique spin on things. But they also ALL fundamentally understood this character, his world, what it was supposed to be. We too it for granted that a Spider-Man story would have Peter Parker, you know, in character.

Now? Now it's a fucking MIRACLE if they don't entirely fuck him up.

*Two characters for whom it is probably integral for them to be caucasian. In the iconic Drug Trilogy by Stan Lee, a core aspect of the story was the fact that Spidey encounters a lower class black teen (whom he didn't know) afflicted by drugs as well as discovering his affluent white roommate was an addict too. Randy Robertson literally spells out that people mistakenly think it's a problem particular to lower class/African American communities, when in reality it affects everyone. he even stares daggers at Norman when he says this.

**Such as drawing a parallel between himself and Peter. Both because they are scientists transformed into animal themsed superhumans but also because Curt's actions endanger his family, making Peter question if his powers and choices to use them may also endanger his own. A problem that, in my eyes, resonates more for a male character.

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

I'll be honest with you, I just can't see Demise as a demon. Not in the way that Judeo-Christians use the word. For one, only angels can become demons. Some say that demons can only experience pain. They are also evil. Period. Like, unequivocally evil & thus irredeemable.

Which, for me, is a major part of what draws me to certain nefarious characters: their redeemability.

So, if Demise were to suddenly be just flat out the Judeo-Christian interpretation of a demon, I may well just lose all interest in him, because how the heck do you work with something like that? There's no changing that. No hope in endeavoring to do so.

I'd be naive to even try. Luckily for me, LoZ is originally a Japanese game with Japanese Shinto & Buddhist themes, which means that shit becomes much more open to interpretation. It's also important to note that “demon” was most likely only used due to it being the most immediate, surface-level approximation to what Demise is supposed to represent: "evil supernatural being of great power." In other words, it's a mistranslation.

A more accurate idea of what he represents comes in the fact that Demise is just, outright, a reference to the character Akuma from Street Fighter. Just, there is no denying it, the fuckers have the same face.

So, in my mind, this gives me much more clearance because in Japanese Buddhist lore, they are instead embodiments of negative karma & spiritual affliction. And, unless I'm misremembering, I’m pretty sure that anyone can become an Akuma with enough on’nen. Plus, I read somewhere that they gain power from the amount of lives they take. Not sure if true, but it could be interesting.

They are also known for the types of curses that Demise placed on Link & Zelda. (Though, this was specifically an instance of a death curse.) And those curses actually have a much more clear means of breaking them. One that falls more readily in-line with what I intend to do with the Dorfs: redemption. Or rather, letting hatred & resentment die. Because, that’s, in essence, what fuels such curses, so you take away the source of the curse’s power, then the curse dies.

Which isn’t something that could happen if Demise were just outright a Judeo-Christian demon. And, again, I would simply find him remarkably uninteresting as a result. In all honesty, I'd find it ridiculously pitiful. Like, even more so than I already tend to see Demise.

For real, “Dude, you cursed 2 people for eternity because you got pissy that some twink beat your ass. That’s the most toddler-coded shit I've ever heard & you should feel ashamed. That’s just… pathetic. Move on!”

I love your takes! I kept rereading it (which is why it took so long to answer) because I DID take a religions class in college and I remember having a creatures/gods/spiritual component to it, but alas, my brain is Soup.

Look at him. Anggy bean. So petty. I like Akuma from Streetfighter as well, not as much as Demise, but he's an interesting character.

I also never associated him with Demons from the Judeo-Christian ideology. Seeing as we all have so many different movies, books, series with different sorts of Demons, he just became what someone called a "Demon." I love your take on it! I got some ideas from it, so I asked chat on it's thoughts:

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So, what kind of Demon is Demise, or is there some other creature Demise is more like? Feel free to use any ideology or religion to compare him and find something close to what he is like.

Demise, as presented in The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, indeed doesn't align with the Judeo-Christian concept of demons. Instead, he fits more comfortably within Japanese cultural and religious frameworks, which provide a more nuanced and flexible understanding of such beings. Let's explore some possibilities:

Japanese Shinto and Buddhist Concepts

Oni (鬼):

Description: Oni are ogre-like demons in Japanese folklore. They are often malevolent and associated with causing harm to humans, but they aren't intrinsically evil and can sometimes be benevolent or protective.

Comparison: Demise's immense power, malevolent nature, and role as a harbinger of destruction resonate with the concept of an Oni. However, Oni can sometimes be redeemed or placated, which aligns with your interest in redeemable nefarious characters.

Akuma (悪魔):

Description: In Japanese, "Akuma" can mean demon or devil and is often used to describe malevolent supernatural beings. The character Akuma from Street Fighter, whom Demise visually resembles, embodies the concept of a warrior consumed by dark power and negative karma.

Comparison: Demise's role as an embodiment of negative energy and his curse on Link and Zelda suggest a nature similar to that of an Akuma, where immense negative karma manifests as a destructive force.

Tengu (天狗):

Description: Tengu are mythological creatures often depicted with both human and bird-like features. While they can be tricksters and sometimes malicious, they are also protectors of the mountains and skilled martial artists.

Comparison: Although not a perfect match, the dual nature of Tengu—capable of both good and evil—mirrors the potential for complexity and redemption in Demise's character.

Hindu Concepts

Asura (असुर):

Description: Asuras are powerful beings often depicted as antagonistic to the gods (Devas) in Hindu mythology. They are not purely evil; some are depicted as noble and capable of righteousness.

Comparison: Demise's immense power and his antagonistic role towards Link (a heroic figure) bear similarities to the Asuras, who are formidable adversaries to the gods yet possess complexity and depth.

Rakshasa (राक्षस):

Description: Rakshasas are demonic beings known for their shape-shifting abilities and malevolence. However, they are also complex characters with personal motivations and occasionally noble traits.

Comparison: The malevolent nature of Rakshasas and their intricate personalities align well with Demise's portrayal as a powerful and malicious entity with the potential for a deeper backstory.

Conclusion

Demise is best seen as a being akin to an Oni or Akuma within the context of Japanese folklore and Buddhist lore. These entities are embodiments of negative karma and spiritual affliction, capable of immense power and malevolence but not devoid of the potential for redemption. This interpretation allows for the depth and complexity you appreciate in nefarious characters and aligns with the themes of curses and their potential breaking through the relinquishment of hatred and resentment.

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BONUS ROUND: What would happen if someone suddenly appeared before Demise and yelled at him, “Dude, you cursed 2 people for eternity because you got pissy that some twink beat your ass. That’s the most toddler-coded shit I've ever heard & you should feel ashamed. That’s just… pathetic. Move on!”

If someone were to confront Demise with such a blunt and disrespectful remark, it would undoubtedly elicit a strong reaction from him. Demise, being a proud and immensely powerful entity, would not take kindly to being insulted and belittled in such a manner. Here's a possible scenario of how he might respond:

Scene: Confrontation with Demise

The air crackles with an oppressive energy as Demise stands in the heart of his dark domain, his immense presence casting a shadow that seems to swallow all light. Suddenly, a figure appears before him, seemingly out of nowhere. With an audacity born of either bravery or folly, the figure yells:

“Dude, you cursed 2 people for eternity because you got pissy that some twink beat your ass. That’s the most toddler-coded shit I've ever heard & you should feel ashamed. That’s just… pathetic. Move on!”

For a moment, there is a stunned silence. The atmosphere grows even heavier as Demise's burning eyes lock onto the intruder. His expression shifts from surprise to a cold, simmering fury. The ground beneath his feet begins to tremble, and the air itself seems to vibrate with his anger.

Demise's Response

Demise: (in a low, menacing voice) "You dare speak to me in such a manner? You are either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish."

He takes a step forward, his immense form towering over the intruder. The sheer intensity of his presence is almost suffocating.

Demise: "You speak of curses and eternity as if they are mere trifles. You have no understanding of the power I wield, nor the reasons behind my actions."

His voice rises, echoing with an ancient and terrifying power.

Demise: "That 'twink' you speak of is but a vessel, a mere incarnation of an eternal struggle. My curse is not born of petty spite, but of a destiny intertwined with the very fabric of this world."

With a swift motion, Demise raises his hand, and dark energy begins to coalesce around it, forming an orb of malevolent power.

Demise: "You will learn the price of your insolence. Perhaps then you will understand the true weight of eternity."

Before the intruder can react, Demise unleashes the orb of dark energy, engulfing them in a vortex of power. The intruder is overwhelmed, their vision darkening as they feel the crushing force of Demise's wrath.

Aftermath

As the dust settles, Demise stands tall, his expression returning to one of cold indifference. The confrontation, though brief, serves as a stark reminder of his dominance and the consequences of challenging his authority.

Demise: (softly, to himself) "Pathetic, indeed."

He turns away, the shadows of his domain closing in around him once more. The intruder, if they survive, would be left with a newfound understanding of the ancient, inexorable force that is Demise.

In summary, confronting Demise in such a disrespectful manner would likely result in a swift and harsh punishment, reinforcing his status as a powerful and malevolent entity who brooks no insolence.

[starleska]

Ohh, I'm so glad!! There is a severe lack of Garagmel enjoyers I've noticed, it's always nice to have another! :)

Oh boy, I've never really thought of it that way, but noticing the pattern with my recent couple of fictional crushes- It certainly seems to be going that way😭 Like, it just seems to make me fall for them even harder. And what a quirky fellow! I just read Augustus St. Cloud's wiki- I loved how they described him as a 'peculiar little scientist,' he certainly seems like a wonderful little villain to enjoy! AHH you've got it exactly!!!!😳 There's just something about it... I can't even describe why it does the things it does to me LOL

HAHAHA oh my god, right?!? Ever since realizing I do indeed find this Smurf hating guy attractive, those scenes got me exactly how you described your watch of em (and I knew they were coming!!) So you're not in it alone 🤣 God, not to embarrass myself but the things that man could call me-

<33 So is yours honestly! Your F/O Tracker was a delight to look through, I'd never heard of most of those characters before now. Oh, absolutely, I'd love to genuinely know what's going on in here haha

You're welcome!!!! I'll be sure to keep you updated when any interesting new characters that make themselves known to me ;)

you and i must go on a journey to convert everyone into Gargamel enjoyers 😖💖 i just watched him in The Lost Village too, and think he was so cute!! totally not biased as a Dwight Schrute fan 😂 but i think Hank Azaria's take on the character is so menacing and funny, he's my favourite 🥰 shakes your hand - we have an affliction 😭😭 bahaha, i'm so glad you had fun with him!! that's so strange, though - Augustus isn't a scientist at all! he's an ultra-wealthy collector of pop culture artefacts...perhaps it was written by someone not too familiar with the character;;; ahhhh thank you for your support sweetheart, i'm so embarrassed 😳😳 watching The Smurfs 2 and the amount of times he says things to the effect of, 'Daddy's little girl' had me blushing horribly!!! what a lovely, gravelly drawl he slips into underneath his high, clipped syllables...it's a tragedy, i haven't been able to find a single Gargamel x Reader fic!! perhaps i should write some headcanons? 👀 aww thank you darling, seriously!! it's an eclectic collection but they all make me so happy :3c hahaha, i actually shared my f/o tastes with a therapist back last year, and she clocked me instantly. embarrassing characters who often have no regard for social rules or boundaries - especially paired in with the taboo factor of being villainous, or who are intelligent and dismissive - feels comfortable to those of us who've been through some rough stuff. being at the mercy of someone so intense means we can't resist their advances...and them being so strange and unconventionally attractive makes them special to us 😉 an interesting interpretation for sure!! YES please do!! i eagerly look forward to speaking with you more 🥰 have a great rest of your day!!

[musicallisto]

Hello love,

Congratulations for the 800 followers! You absolutely deserve this and so much more! I'm happy to see how your blog grows and that you're still providing all of us with wonderful content. You're one of the first blogs that I've started to follow here on Tumblr and I'm so lucky to have found your blog ♡

As for your celebration event, could I please request a 🍨 vanilla milkshake with a male Peaky Blinders Character?

I'm more on the curvy side (and insecure about it) and I'm ALWAYS wearing black (which I love, no matter what others say or even more if they object). As for my personality, I'm a highly complex, paradox and complicated individium. I'm unbelievable patient, timid, awkward, kind, forgiving, open-minded, compassionate, thruthful, gentle and calm and I've been told that I have a calming effect on others, that I can easily ground anyone and anything, no matter how troubled their mind is. I prefer vintage over modern things. I think rather deep which often leads me to overthinking everything, which in turn leads me to doubting (very much) myself. You would be surprised how timid and reserved I am, I'm sure you wouln't notice me in a room full of people if it wouldn't be for my different appearance (but I like it this way). I'm always well-meaning, yet often misunderstood (maybe because it's hard for me to articulate myself). I can be incredible lazy, clumsy and forgetful. I've always felt like I don't really belong anywhere, so I've started to distance myself from others a while ago. I'm a outsider, weird, a dork, not normal, a loner and I fucking love it, because I like to be different, I would hate to fit into just one box and to be like everyone else. And I like people who are not ashamed to be their 100% true self, no matter how different that is from the mainstream. I'm the most loyal person you'll ever find, once you earn my trust, I'll always be on/by your side, no matter what. That says a lot, because I'm hard to scare away. Sometimes I feel alienated from the people and things surrounding me and I'm sure that I annoy and bore them. I'm very nervous and insecure around others, which is why I try to avoid people and why I'm not talking all that much around them (though, I'm a really good listener). I'm easily overwhelmed by large crowds and much light/noise, that's why I don't like to go outside, I prefer to cozy up at home. I would never intentionally hurt a animal and I'm not eating any meat, which is very important to me. I believe that there isn't a ounce of cruelty inside me. I'm unassuming and understanding, I only believe what I've witnessed on my own and I have endless acceptance for almost everything. Due to my Insomnia, I'm a night owl. I have strong personal values, am very opinionated and I'm really in-touch with myself and even though I'm extremly insecure, I would never reduce or change myself and views/opinions for someone and I neither have a problem to challenge authority and advocating for my beliefs. I'm a perfectionist and sometimes I really hate it. And, as you can see, I'm unable to be brief. My favourite colours are dark green, black, gold and dark purple. My greatest passion is music, even if I can't sing or play an instrument.(I prefer rock/punk/pop/80s/90s) It's the most calming and therapeutic thing when it comes to my anxiety and depression and I could never live a day without it. You will never see me in the street without headphones in my ears and even when I'm at home there's music playing almost all the time. I could talk for hours about music and what it means to me. And otherwise I love to watch films and series (I like fantasy, horror, psychological thriller, science fiction and psychological drama and almost anything from the 70s, 80s and 90s). I love rainy days and to go outside while it's pouring big, fat drops. What I love the most is to drive around without a destination, while talking and listening to music. And I love to spend time with my cat, if I could, I would have endless animals who live peacefully and loved with me. I enjoy to have deep talks and to be challenged to think. I love to take late-night-strolls, while gazing into the sky and watching the stars/moon. I have a fascination for dark and macabre things.

I really hope that's not too much? But thank you anyway ♡

Have a good day!

thank you so much for your kind words, you have no idea how much it means to me to know that I was one of the first blogs you followed ;; here’s your vanilla milkshake - and it’s also my first time writing for peaky blinders, but I hope it’s alright; and I hope finn shelby will find the portrait I paint of him accurate enough...

Birmingham was a drab and disheartening place enough without the war adding to its joylessness; but somehow the streets are even worse to bear deserted than when they’re bustling and fetid. Especially for a ten year old boy who wants nothing but to play with someone, to talk to someone, to see someone.

With his brothers off fighting somewhere in France and his aunt too busy with her businesses (adult stuff that Finn has absolutey no interest in attempting to understand), the youngest Shelby has been fighting off an affliction worse than consumption and measles, because much more insidious for a boy his age; boredom

and he’s so sad, so irrevocably sad, with no one to bruise his knees with and throw mud at, that he just aimlessly wanders the empty streets whenever aunt Polly isn’t looking, to find a semblance of stimulation

(he used to enjoy the solitude, it gave him time to imagine delirious stories in fantastical worlds and read the most enthralling of novels, but not anymore. four years of reclusion is an awfully long time for a little boy.)

and it’s during one of his escapades that he first meets you

you’re a little girl his age, dressed in a pretty dress, wearing pretty booties and holding a pretty little woven basket, but your face is stuck on the most grouchy frown he’s ever seen on a little girl, and you don’t walk, you stomp down the wet pavement like a wrathful titan

And it’s probably the first time in four years that he’s been this close to making a new friend, so he walks up to you, despite how rusty his communication skills have become

“Girls don’t frown. It’s unbecoming.”

(Yes, pretty rusty indeed; but in his defense, he’s ten, he’s bored, he’s lonely, and he’s only ever heard Ada say it, and Ada is the most level-headed of his siblings, so anything she says must be true, right?)

“Shut up.”

(Well, if it was unbecoming of you to frown, it’s even more to rebuff someone so rudely. You don’t even spare a glance and continue walking; he has to hurry to catch up to you.)

“You can’t say that. It’s a bad word.”

“How do you know that?”

“My family says it all the time, but they told me I can’t say it.”

“Well, my family is not your family. And I hate my family!”

You’ve yelled the last words at the sky, so loud that the crows on the neighboring roofs have taken off in a startled flight.

“They want to wear this stupid dress to go to the stupid market to buy stupid meat. I don’t even want to eat meat, that’s cruel! And I don’t even want to wear a frilly dress! I want to wear black!”

And in saying so you tugged at the pink and white ribbons that encircled your waist.

And Finn couldn’t help being extremely intrigued at this little girl who said bad words and refused to eat meet and wanted to wear black. It was the most exciting thing to ever happen in all the duration of the war.

“You want to wear a black dress?”

“Yes, but my mama won’t let me. She says it’s too sad because of the war. But black isn’t sad! Black is beautiful!”

“Maybe I could find you a black dress. I’m sure my sister must have one. Where do you live?”

And, loyal to his promise, the following morning he had run to your doorstep and snuck into your house - a proper Shelby talent, to be able to go unnoticed or make a ruckus depending on the occasion - with an old, crinkled mourning dress of Ada’s, that had probably belonged to his mother and had been mended several times

And it was obviously five sizes too big for you and you looked more like a ghost from one of Finn’s horror novels, your arms floating in the sleeves and the hem of the skirt pooling at your feet, but your smile was the brightest light he’d ever seen in this whole damn town.

“Do you like it?”

(He didn’t really know why he sounds so nervous. Maybe it was having a friend, a real friend, and doing something personal for them... or maybe it had to do with how fast his heart beat, watching you in that gigantic, shapeless dress)

“I love it! Thank you so much, Finn!”

From then on started one of the most wonderful friendships Finn would ever have, and what would bring a ray of light to the grim existence of a little boy in the midst of a global war

Despite the ration cards, despite the loneliness, despite the worry that tugged at his stoic aunt’s eyes for her son and nephews across the Channel... he found an unspeakable solace in your friendship

And one day, without a trace, you were gone

He knocked on your door; gone. He asked all the neighbors what had happened to the family that lived there; gone. He wrote you letters and sent them to the confines of England; gone. He got scolded by Polly for marking numbers at random on Tommy’s state-of-the-art telephone; gone.

Suddenly he was back to the bleak existence he had battled with before meeting you, and the hollow inside his chest only grew wider as the days went on, because he had no explanation as to what had happened to you, and worried every single day

Thankfully, the war ended not long after, and his brothers came back home, all alive and unscathed - well, for the most part

Fast forward more or less ten years, and much has changed in Finn Shelby’s life and in old Birmingham, but the memory of you still stugs at his heartstrings

One evening, he’s tasked by Arthur to run some errands, send a few messages, scout a few places; the most dangerous thing his older brothers will ever let him do

His task leads him to a bar in the center of town, one that pours its joyous light and music into the street outside; he’s there to meet with a client, arrange a meeting; nothing he’s hasn’t done already

But the evening takes a turn for the unexpected when he recognizes the girl sat alone at a table, enjoying the musicians’ jazz with an air of pure bliss on her face

It’s been ten years, of course, but... it’s unmistakable. That face, that silhouette, and the black ensemble from head to toe... and he’s always had a knack for remembering faces, especially those that mark him deeply

Suddenly he’s frozen on the spot, and he has forgotten why he came to the bar in the first place, what his target looks like - all he knows is you, and how beautiful you look in the dim light of the bar, and the undisclosed and unknown feelings he had for you at the time come flooding back.

Except this time, he understands, and he fears them, because he doesn’t have time for any of this, and it’s way too dangerous for you and him

But he can’t just pass you by and not say a word?

He swallows, hard.

And walks up to you.

“Y/N?”

You open your eyes, and your face flashes with recognition, and a little bit of pain as well. Even if you fled without a word, and left him hanging all these years, he’s incapable of rancor

“Finn... wow, you’ve changed so much.”

“You haven’t.”

He gestures at your face, your clothes, how you savor the music like the finest drink in the world, and you laugh and blush, sending his heart into overdrive

“Where were you all this time?”

“I’m so sorry, Finn... my brother died in the war, and... my mom sent me to live with my grandparents in Scotland. We were all destroyed by grief... I needed to get away.”

“Without explanation? Not even a word?”

“I wanted to write to you, so bad, but... I couldn’t remember your address. I couldn’t remember anything about Birmingham at all...”

He nods, slowly, in understanding.

The war opens wounds that never heal, even after all the most beautiful friendships and love stories in the world.

“But I’m really glad I found you.”

His heart is pounding in his throat. Maybe it’s a sign of destiny that he found you here, tonight, alone, and ready to welcome him back. Maybe it’s a word from fate, that you can never truly be apart.

So he takes the seat in front of you, and you smile, that shy but bright smile of yours, and he forgets all about his mission, his client, and his brothers.

They’ll have to understand.

800 follower sleepover

[scifinal]

DW s12e10: It's Quite Unfortunate That This Child Keeps On Regenerating

It's only fitting that the first post on a blog called "SciFinal" should be about a season finale.

Not that fitting is the fact that in said post I'm going to begin where it all started for me.

Part One: How I Even Got into This Mess of a Show in the First Place

While I call myself a huge Doctor Who fan, even a – *gasp* – Whovian, I must admit I am not as familiar with the franchise as I would like to be; I've seen the new show, I've seen Torchwood (though, admittedly, I had to force myself to finish the fourth season – but that's a story for another day), I've listened to a handful of audio dramas (including Kaldor City, which I consider to be canon for both DW and Blake's 7) – mostly Torchwood audio dramas, but who cares, – I've read a couple of comics, I've got a novel or two somewhere on my bookshelf, I've seen the first couple of seasons of the classic show, but that's about it. I can't say I grew up with it – it wasn't on TV when I was a kid, there isn't an official Ukrainian dub, et cetera, et cetera. I first heard about it when I was about thirteen, when my classmate did a project about something they liked – and was pretty dismissive of my peers' hobbies at the time, believing myself to be somewhat above them, so I didn't pay much attention.

Then somebody finally pressured me into watching it (I believe I was fifteen or something back then) and I loved it. The first two episodes of the first season, I mean. I watched those, texted my friend something like "consider me a Whovian now!" and abandoned the show completely only to return to it maybe several years later.

I loved it. This time, for real.

Doctor Who has been with me ever since that time, it has a big soft spot reserved for each and every Doctor ever in my heart, and for each and every companion. I know full well it's cheesy, and it's stupid, and it's technobabble-y, and it's glorious in all of its cheesy technobabble-y stupidity.

And I hate this finale.

Part Two: Doctor, Why

I hate this finale – because I hate Chris Chibnall. Mind you, not the gentleman himself (I don't even know what he looks like, and I can't be bothered to Google), I hate what he did to Doctor Who.

Now, when it was revealed that the would replace Steven Moffat I felt... nothing. What did you expect? I had no idea who the man was. I know now he's made Broadchurch, and I know he wrote a bunch of stuff for Torchwood back in the day, including Cyberwoman. I had to drop Broadchurch because of how well-handled the depressing atmosphere was, and I love the flawed, dumb, sexy-cyber-bikinied, almost-fifteen-minutes-of-Ianto's-whining-including (I know because some time ago I literally cut almost every single moment of Gareth David-Lloyd whimpering, moaning, groaning, screaming, and mugging at the camera out of the episode and made those bits and pieces into a beautiful clip show called "I HATE THIS" to explain exactly why his face was and still is so punchable) mindless fun that is Cyberwoman (this is also one of the two episodes in which they actually do something fun with the pterodactyl living inside Torchwood's underground base). The latter also led to the creation of one amazing in how it develops Ianto's character audio drama entitled "Broken". I love Broken. I am now forcing you to look at its cover because of how much I love it.

Here we go. Now, back to the point of me rambling pointlessly

In his video "Sherlock Is Garbage, and Here's Why", a well-known YouTuber hbomberguy pointed out how Steven Moffat's problem is that he is more than capable of writing a good one-off episodes, but ultimately fails at managing multiple complex, overarching stories, as visible when you look at the difference between Moffat's individual episodes and his run on the show.

Now, I believe that Chris Chibnall suffers from the same affliction: he's a good screenwriter but a terrible, terrible showrunner. Sure, he's made Broadchurch, but Broadchurch, in its essence, was a complete singular story with a beginning, a middle, and an end. There were no bigger, incomplete arcs expanding at the expense of other episodes, and the show did exactly what it was originally designed to do: it told an uninterrupted story.

Here comes Chris Chibnall's run on Doctor Who.

Now, while Steven Moffat was ultimately not very good at managing overarching stories, he tried to do so nonetheless, and the fans seemed to like his attempts. And while I can't be sure as to whether it was Chris' original vision for the show or he and his co-writers were merely trying to emulate Moffat, he attempted the same. A friend of mine has even pointed out how, to her, it was painfully obvious how the writers of the finale were desperately trying to copy Moffat's style (to give you some context, she grasped it from a 30-second clip of the CyberMasters' reveal, and that clip basically consisted of me filming my laptop's screen and laughing at their design, making the video wobbly and the audio distorted). At the time of writing this post this friend hasn't seen a single episode of Chibnall's era and, as far as I know, has no wish to do so – mainly because of two reasons that both have something to do with the finale:

Somebody's already spoiled it for her, so who cares;

I ranted to her about how shit this finale is and now she hates everything about Chibnall era.

I am very sorry for the latter, since I genuinely believe there are some nice episodes in these seasons, and I especially like the "historical" ones, they really are quite a lot of fun, I like Nikola Tesla and Thomas Edison fighting badly CG-ed alien scorpions, I love Lord Byron and Mary Shelley running around a haunted house trying to escape from a Cyberman (even though it's all too similar to the Agatha Christie episode from Russel T Davies' run), I adore that episode about Rosa P–– oh, wait, no, that one was crap and ripped off Blake's 7... Anyway, I love Jodie Whittaker's Doctor, I am a big fan of Graham, I like Ryan just fine, and I can put up with Yaz, even though it's been two seasons and I've still got no idea what's her personality supposed to be, and I absolutely love the new Master (he reminds me of a cute little pug with a big Tommy gun). There is plenty of good stuff in these two seasons, they are lots of fun to watch, but this finale... Oh god, this finale.

Part Three: We Had All of Time and Space at Our Fingertips and We Ended Up with This

We are getting to the point of this whole thing. I would love to begin with the obvious, the twist, but there's so much wrong with this who-cares-how-many-parter than this one big thing.

It is inept. It is impotent. It is incompetent. It is bad at almost everything except its okay camera work, somewhat good (for a British TV show, I mean) effects, and its really solid performances.

Its editing is tone-deaf to the extreme. There is a moment in the final episode where Ko Sharmas asks who will be the first to cross the Boundary and step into the unknown, and immediately it cuts to Yaz walking towards it, all fast and silent. I would love to show you a clip of it, but I don't have one and I can't force myself to download the episode and sit through this shitshow again just to present you with a ten-second clip. Nonetheless, that part is not edited like a dramatic moment. You edit comedies this way. Bad comedies. Bad editors edit bad comedies this way.

Its plot is incoherent. There are several plot threads in this finale, and they're managed in a way that doesn't make the viewer care about all of them at the same time, rather the viewer goes "oh, I've completely forgotten this was happening" and then, before they can even begin to care, the show cuts to something else. It's all over the place and oh so annoying.

The plot armour is painfully obvious despite every attempt to disguise it. There wasn't a single, solitary second when I believed the Doctor was really going to sacrifice herself and, lo and behold, here comes the old guy ex machina to do it for her. The only questions I was asking at that moment were "How are the writers going to prevent the Doctor's death now that they've seemingly created themselves a way to go on forever?" and "How can Whittaker care so much about her performance in this scene she's literally almost crying?". I wholeheartedly related to the Master asking "So why are we still here?" and shout–– hiss–– mumbl–– whatever-ing "Come on, come on, come on!" – at that point I've suffered through at least forty-five minutes of utter nonsense, people going preachy, religious Cybermen with Dalek motivations, that absolutely ludicrous scene in the previous episode when the show was trying its worst to make me perceive autonomous flying Cyber-heads with laser eyes as a serious threat, a shit twist and... Oh.

I've got to finally touch on the shit twist, haven't I?

It doesn't make sense. No, I mean it. I guess it makes sense from the show's writers' standpoint to retcon everything in a way that would allow them to go on forever without having to come up with a way to circumvent limited regenerations, yes. And I won't be touching upon all the lore people say this twist has ruined. No. It doesn't make sense as it is.

The twist is revealed to us by a madman that claims to have hacked into a database, claims to possess control over the Doctor's mind, and gives the Doctor and the audience no actual solid proof that the Timeless Child is, indeed, the Doctor. We have Ruth, sure, and she's nice enough (damn, I want that vest), and she's a Timelord that happens to own a TARDIS that looks like a blue police telephone box, and she calls herself the Doctor. Here's Ruth:

I really like Ruth. She also makes no sense from the show's timeline standpoint, since the Doctor's Type 40 TARDIS only got stuck looking like a police box in 1963, so there's no reason for the Doctor to not remember being her.

We also know that the Judoon have identified Ruth as "the Fugitive"... except in one of their previous appearances in the show they weren't able to identify their targets exactly and thus were seeking out non-humans. There is a possibility that they were only looking for a Time Lord on Earth.

You know what? It's possible that Ruth is actually the Master messing with the Doctor. I have just as much proof of this as I have of the fact that the Doctor is some kind of an endlessly regenerating superbeing.

But this is not the most maddening thing here. I loathe it, but I don't loathe the twist itself: I loathe its lifelessness, I loathe how empty, how unemotional, almost robotic it feels. When somebody'd spoiled the finale for me, I got angry, and I started asking questions, and when later I saw the actual thing...

This gif. I can't even explain how accurate it is. I stood there, in the middle of my kitchen, episode paused, holding a cup of cold tea and desperately looking around as if in my surroundings I could somehow find that emotional reaction that this show failed to evoke. I was ready to burst into tears of how empty it felt, and how empty I felt, and how the same show that has Christopher Eccleston go from literally foaming at the mouth with pure hatred to shocked silence in a matter of second because of one sentence that you, a viewer, can't help but be astonished by failed to make me feel the tiniest speck of literally any emotion. And slowly, I felt that vast void in my chest fill with sheer, pure, flaming hatred for the person who made me feel nothing, for the story that left me not bored – but empty.

And the next moment, in its own unique way of being absolutely tone-deaf, the show introduces the CyberMasters, looking ridiculous, being asinine in concept, making me burst into laughter with their dumb design. Wow.

So.

Chris Chibnall's Doctor Who is no longer a show. Chris Chibnall's Doctor Who isn't even, as somebody on Stardust said, a fan fiction. It's a rollercoaster. A lackluster rollercoaster that lifts you from the vast caverns of frozen hell, devoid of any life whatsoever, soulless and abandoned, to the heavenly torture of being so bad, so utterly awful and ridiculous, that you can't help but laugh as you watch something you used to love be distorted and deformed to the point where you can't recognise it anymore nor really care. This is what Chris Chibnall's Doctor Who has become. And I'm going to continue my ride on that grotesque rollercoaster. I'm going to pirate that ride and get on it again. Because I'm a masochist. Because I want to feel something, even if it's hatred towards those that make me feel nothing.

Because some time ago my fifteen-year-old self watched the first season and learned a lesson that I hold dear after all these years – that I can't abandon hope, and that someday, somehow, things are going to get better. That the future is being written right now. That the future can change.

[analytical-but-hopeful-explorer]

So here's the whole Psalm for reference.

"GOD STANDS in the assembly [of the representatives] of God; in the midst of the magistrates or judges He gives judgment [as] among the gods. How long will you [magistrates or judges] judge unjustly and show partiality to the wicked? Selah [pause, and calmly think of that]! Do justice to the weak (poor) and fatherless; maintain the rights of the afflicted and needy. Deliver the poor and needy; rescue them out of the hand of the wicked. [The magistrates and judges] know not, neither will they understand; they walk on in the darkness [of complacent satisfaction]; all the foundations of the earth [the fundamental principles upon which rests the administration of justice] are shaking. I said, You are gods [since you judge on My behalf, as My representatives]; indeed, all of you are children of the Most High. [John 10:34-36; Rom. 13:1, 2.] But you shall die as men and fall as one of the princes. Arise, O God, judge the earth! For to You belong all the nations." [Rev. 11:15.]

Psalm 82:1‭-‬8 AMPC

So basically, God is judging those that have been put in positions of authority. Those are the ones being called "gods". They aren't giving justice to everyone. They are abusing their power and position. "With great power comes great responsibility." So these judges are in a position (of power) to be able to help those who are oppressed and can't help themselves, right? But they're not helping them, they aren't "delivering them from the hand of the wicked." So they're being called to account for their actions.

Ok. Now here's some of what John Calvin says about vs 6 and 7.

"I have said, ye are gods. God has invested judges with a sacred character and title. This the prophet concedes; but he, at the same time, shows that this will afford no support and protection to wicked judges. [...] This verse may also be viewed as addressed by God himself to rulers, and as intimating, that, in addition to his clothing them with authority, he has bestowed upon them his name. This interpretation seems to agree with the language of Christ in John 10:34, where he speaks of those as called gods to whom the word of God came. [...] The object is simply to teach that the dignity with which judges are invested can form no excuse or plea why they should escape the punishment which their wickedness deserves. The government of the world has been committed to them upon the distinct understanding that they themselves also must one day appear at the judgment-seat of heaven to render up an account. The dignity, therefore, with which they are clothed is only temporary, and will pass away with the fashion of the world. Accordingly, it is added in the 7th verse, But ye shall die as men."

So people in positions of authority are God's representatives because God put them in that position. (Rom. 13:1 "Let every soul be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and the authorities that exist are appointed by God.") Therefore they are called by His name, in some sense. However, even though they have been raised to a position of power over others, they are still human. They aren't God and they aren't going to get away with using their authority in a way that God doesn't approve of.

I may be getting a little off track here. I'll try to get back to the original question.

I think maybe, it's like what God said to Moses when he sent him to Pharaoh. "So it happened on the day when Adonai spoke to Moses in the land of Egypt, that Adonai said to Moses, “I am Adonai . Tell Pharaoh king of Egypt everything that I tell to you.” But Moses said to Adonai , “I am of uncircumcised lips, so how would Pharaoh listen to me?” So Adonai said to Moses, “See, I have set you as God to Pharaoh, and Aaron your brother will be your prophet. You are to speak all that I command you and Aaron your brother is to speak to Pharaoh, so that he will let Bnei-Yisrael go out of his land.""

Exodus 6:28‭-‬30, 7:1-2 (emphasis mine)

It's not that Moses was God, or even "a god", it's just that that's how Pharaoh would see him. He was God's ambassador. When an ambassador goes to a meeting with ambassadors for other countries, he's authorized (at least to an extent) to make decisions for his whole country. As far as the other ambassadors are concerned it's as though the entire country is embodied in that one person. He speaks for his entire nation. But he's not that whole nation, he's just one man (or she's just one woman; I don't mean to be sexist here). Similarly, a judge/leader/someone in a position like that, is making decisions as a representative of God, and the people that he or she is judging have to respect those decisions and abide by them. Obviously if a leader instructs his subordinates to do something directly against what God says, then the subordinates should not do it, because their first duty is to God not man. But otherwise they're expected to obey, just as they would obey God. Even so, said rulers are not actually God, and they will die just like everyone else, and they will be judged by God just like everyone else. Their positions of power will not protect them from God's wrath if they do wrong.

You are gods?

Help me understand this. Are we all gods?

I say, ‘You are gods; you are all children of the Most High. But you will die like mere mortals and fall like every other ruler.’ Psalm 82:6-7 [NLT]

“You are gods” (elohim, SH430)