#i finally made sense of it

[valenteal]

Ok I finally got it. Natsume had the book, either he created it or it was given to him or he found it, then he gave it to Oda (the third installment of the series that’s so rare because it’s literally the book) then Oda gives up the book when the kids die by telling Dazai about it (or at least giving him enough information to figure it out there by making Dazai the new owner). But Oda had written in the book, created an opportunity for Dazai to have a better life and do good. But he left it at his own death so Dazai would still be making the choice himself. Dazai finds the book among Oda’s belongings and tries to bring Oda back and give him happiness and then BEAST happens. He creates a world in which Oda is happy, uses Akutagawa as the protagonist and creates Atsushi using the Book to be the antagonist/shapeshifter, bases his ability on Natsume’s and lets the story unfold. But because of a singularity caused by his ability interacting with the Book instead of changing his own realities past he creates an alternate reality that only he is aware of. In that alternate reality he cannot die until the story is completed and he passes the Book on to the next Author/Authors. So he passes it to Akutagawa and Atsushi and kills himself knowing there is a reality in which Oda is happy. Back in the main universe Dazai struggles to continue the story/find a successor, because he can’t die unless he doesn’t own the book but he can only alter the future, not the past or present. So he writes a story about 6 organizations vying for the book beginning 2 years in the future, it takes him 2 years to write. He uses Atsushi as the protagonist this time and sets him up to inherit the book with a heroes journey to prepare him and Dazai as his mentor to guide him.

Dazai will die at the end, no doubt about it. The entire story is written by Dazai, which is why he always knows what’s going to happen. He gave the single page to the special operations division to set up the decay of angels arc. He and Fyodor are so similar because Dazai wrote him. Well, he wrote his actions and how it played out, but the DoA existed before he got the book.

I think maybe his suicide attempts, at least serious ones, stopped while he was in the Mafia. He was searching for meaning in life and he caught a glimpse of it in the Mafia. He wasn’t invincible while he was there, he was just not trying to die. But after Oda died his suicidal tendencies came back in full force, but Oda had made him unable to die without writing a story with narrative consistency so he couldn’t just say “then Dazai Osamu died painlessly in his sleep.”

Btw if anyone else came up with the same thing I swear I didn’t steal it. I didn’t look at any theories currently in circulation. Mostly because I’ve been focusing on canon but also because so many people just don’t understand the fundamentals of the story or characters so I knew if I did I would be sifting through endless painful misinterpretations. (Yes I’m a bit of a bitch and a lit snob im not gonna deny it. But I took an advanced accelerated college lit class at 17 so I would say my confidence is warranted)

[chloesimaginationthings]

What’s William Afton’s problem in FNAF….

[rawliverandgoronspice]

Always a bit puzzled by people saying that anyone who wanted long-term consequences for TotK Zelda's sacrifice are "edgy".

I'm not even particularly in the camp that she should have remained a dragon forever (I think this should have been Ganondorf's fate, it would have been sooo much more impactful than to explode him and move on but anyway). To be honest, I wish the rules for turning back would have been 1) clear 2) active gameplay on the player so that it feels like it's something we have earned, and 3) not make her have amnesia about it and/or at least having her gain some crucial insight because of the experience.

(also: doesn't she crave knowledge? isn't that insanely mean to have her watch over every civilization and every bit of history ever and then take it away from her? kind of dislike how totk privileges the comfort of the player's feelings over what the characters would actually want or need tbh)

To be perfectly honest, I fully expected us needing to turn her back before engaging Ganondorf so we would fight him together, especially since Zelda as a compagnon exists in the game code already (though in a very subdued state). It feels very very strange to me that all of this mechanic of Sages following us existing and yet we never have the very climactic cool Zelda-staple moment of facing Ganondorf or Ganon together (OoT, WW, TP, ST and probably more that I'm forgetting all did this in some way --even BotW had Zelda more involved than in TotK). I'm not sure Mineru was a compagnon that was needed over Zelda honestly, especially given the kind of non-insight she gives us on the zonai (even if the idea of the mecha is cool, it really could have been Zelda using her zonai + sheikah knowledge to pilot one for us or something).

But anyway: yeah, even if this isn't what I would have wanted personally, I think wanting Zelda to remain a dragon is kind of arguably more respectful of her relationship to Link, in a way, that what the game ended up doing. When she enacted this sacrifice, Zelda decided to trust him to such a extent that she lost herself, reciprocated his trust in her and his devotion to her, and now the future of Hyrule exists beyond her and beyond what Hyrule once was, but she trusts them to follow through and be happy and she will watch over them from the stars moving on. It's fine if we manage to save her from that fate, but even if we don't, honestly this sounds like a beautiful story/tragic romance to me, if you want to read it that way. Tragedy doesn't necesserily involve edginess. Fictional pain isn't always mean, or out to get you.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Wardrobe Woes

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[jimimn]

dearest, darling, my universe 🤍

[luck-of-the-drawings]

so REVENGE, HUH? or justice, if that makes you feel better. it tastes the same when cooked just right. 'I REALLY WANTED A BROTHER.' such a shame to burn a bridge you so desperately wanted to keep, especially when it wasnt even you who started the fire. especially when you hope that not a single fragment of that bridge ever washes ashore.[MAY IT ROT FAR FROM MY SIGHTS] an unfortunate loss! atleast he has his friends.

[penbwl]

I’ve learnt something new about myself and just in time for valentines teehehhee

[haunted-xander]

Shadowbringers is about learning how to live.

Your enemy is stasis- everything and everyone is stagnant, they wait and wait for something to happen, but don't do anything to make it so (because the ones who tried before failed, because they don't know what to do/how to do it). People don't change, they don't try, not really. The crystarium is doing well, it's independent and sustainable, but it doesn't have the reach or power to do much outside of Lakeland. The Exarch is more-or-less confined to the city (because of the tower, because he's waiting for you), so even if he had power elsewhere, he'd be limited with how much he, personally, can do.

Eulemore is filled with mindless indulgence, there's no hardships or labour or anything but luxury for the free citizens, and the bonded only have to worry about fulfilling the task(s) they were brought for. The outside world doesn't matter, hard work doesn't matter, personal fulfillment beyond indulgence doesn't matter, everything exist solely in the moment. The people out in Kholusia have pretty much given up, they stay close to the city in the hopes that this time they will be picked, this time they will be saved. They wait and wait and do nothing but wait. The ones who try to live on are dying out or eventually give up and join the rest in waiting.

Ahm Areang, Rak'tika, even Il Mheg are all just waiting for something, anything to happen. They go day to day, surviving simply because it's all they can. Nothing changes.

Until, of course, you should up. You, who causes a ripple of change simply by existing, who can move the immovable by sheer will. You showed them that things can change, that things can, and will happen, if they just try. You show them that they can make things better, that there is an option besides waiting for a slow death, if they'd just grab fate by the neck and tell it "No. We are doing this my way".

And they do. They rally up together and do what they thought impossible. Not all their efforts succeed(not immediately), but they tried. They tried, they failed, and they got up and tried again and again until it did work. They take the chances, not knowing how it'll turn out (because it's not about whether it fails or succeeds, it's about having tried).

They learn how to try, little by little, and every step they learn what it means to really live.

Endwalker is about learning how to love life.

Your enemy is nihilism- the idea that nothing matters, that there is no real joy to be found that isn't snuffed out by misery. A concept that denounces greys in favor of a black-and-white view where black is all encompassing. Everywhere you go, people are doing what they can to survive, but refuses (or maybe are afraid to, or maybe never knew they could) try to actually save themselves. The Forum plans for escape, to leave their homeworld behind and take whatever they can afford. They will live on, but they won't be saved, no one is saved(and even with escape they aren't safe, Despair is everywhere and She will not stop until all has become Nothing).

The Loporrits love Etheirys, but in the way Winter loves Spring. They know about it, they are so close to it, but they are distant. They're strangers, they've never met. It's love, and it's pure and true, but it's also just love. It's surface-level(because the surface is all they had). Their love is pure but it's instinctual. Programmed. They love because they don't know how to not love. They want to save it's people, save us, but they don't know what it really means to save, so they create refuge instead(because that's what She told them to, because this is how love works for them).

The people of Garlemald are terrified, they are victims of extreme indoctrination, the (deserved) push-back their army got proved them "right"(that we are savage beasts to fear, that they are but prey in the maws of rabid dogs). They want to be build-up again, but what's left for them now? The world hates them(and it's all their fault, the ones who see past the propaganda know this, but who will listen to them?) and they are dying. It's so cold and the fuel is running out. They won't accept help, because they've been filled with the idea that there is no such thing as pure kindness from "savages"(and they are too prideful to question it, to break apart from the illusion that they are surperior, because they're terrified to face the truth).

The sky screams, the earth wheeps and the foundation of existence is overtaken by Despair, misery is around every corner and who knows what will happen now? Where do we go? What do we do? We live and live but for what?

What's the point of it all?

That's the question, and the answer is everything. We live because there is joy to be found. Because there is beauty in the world. Because there are stars in the sky. Because flowers bloom in spring. Because cats purr. Because waves crash against the shore. Because of every single little thing we can see, hear or feel. Because we love and are loved. Because there are things to do and discover. Because why not?

And you tell them this, by letting them see that there is more to life than the little they have seen. The Forum has closed it's eyes to anything but it's own kith and kin, everything outside of Old Sharlayan is irrelevant(non-intervention, always non-intervention) and it takes the entire world coming and telling them "We are here. We are alive, and we will make tomorrow happen." for them to realize they have slowly been killing themselves and what they stand for(you pride yourself on knowledge, but where is your wisdom? What do you truly know of things outside your own bubble? You do not know that which is lived because you refuse to aknowledge anything but the written word).

The Loporrits see Etheirys itself, they experience it's corners and valleys and learn what love can really be. They want to save it, truly save it, because they love and this time it's informed, it's personal(I love you, I love you, and I want you to know I love your loves too).

In Garlemald everything is slow, unsteady and complicated, but it's changing. They're changing. With every person who accepts help the illusion of supremacy and "purity" melts away just a bit, and the wall standing between them and us breaks a little(it will never vanish completely, years upon years of oppression and subjugation and conquest don't disappear like that, but it's a start).

Shadobringers is about learning how to live, but Endwalker is about learning how to love life.

[sollucets]

THE EIGHTH SENSE

aired march 29th - april 26th, 2023

[godofstupidsentences]

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, Suzanne Collins / Antigone, Sofocles

How do you mourn a brother you wanted dead?

[bolina]

Y'all gotta look at the bigger picture here. Nothing worth fighting for was ever won without sacrifice.

FINAL FANTASY VII: REMAKE | Developed by Square Enix Released on April 10, 2020

[hyperfixiation-station]

Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Information Pt.3

TW: Blood, Torture, Violence

Summary: You get rescued(finally)

Part 1, Part 2

Silent. From the moment Price had found you in that dingy cell, broken and bleeding, that was all you had been. You were silent when they moved you, though it had to have hurt with how many broken bones and lacerations you had. You were silent when the medics asked you where you were injured, how you had been hurt. You were silent through the debriefings, through the desperate attempts to find out what you had been through, what secrets you had spilled. You were silent through all of it. 

It wasn’t your fault, not really. A mental barrier you had constructed during months of torture to keep secrets from spilling, a dam built with a mantra of DON’T TALK to keep your thoughts at bay as your captors repeatedly tried to draw them out of you. 

Even now, when the rational part of your brain knew you were safe, knew that these men, the men you served with, the men who had tracked you down and saved you, were to be trusted, the barrier would not fall. 

Every ‘what did they want from you, what did you see, did you recognize them, how many of them were there’ was met with silence. Anytime you opened your mouth you were hit with a wave of fear so strong it sent you into a panic attack. 

They understood, in part. They had seen recordings, seen the rooms, seen your broken body at the time of rescue. 

It took them 2 days to get to you after figuring out your location. They went in guns blazing, and tore the place to the ground. They split up, Price and Gaz taking the left with Soap and Ghost taking the right. They shot at anything that moved in their quest for vengeance, breaking down doors and checking every nook and cranny for where you might be locked up. 

Price found you about a quarter of the way into the camp. He took the bottom floor and Gaz took the top as they cleared the building. He had stopped before a door that was different, metal and welded shut with a small little flap in the middle, instead of solid and wooden like the others. It took him and Gaz some prying and metalwork, but they got the door open. 

Price almost cried when his eyes adjusted to the change in light. You lay curled in the corner, back to the wall as you shied away from the light. Your hair was tangled and matted with dried blood, your clothes were torn and dirty and your skin was crusted with so much blood and grime that he couldn’t even see you underneath it. 

“Y/n?” He had called, but there was no response. He crept slowly toward you, keeping his movements as open and relaxed as possible. He crouched in front of you, taking note of your dilated pupils, sunken eyes, obviously malnourished form. He winced at the weird bulges in your skin, indicative of broken bones. 

“Sorry love.” He whispered to you, taking a steadying breath as he slid his arms under you and lifted. Hise expected you to cry out, the action no doubt causing unspeakable pain, but you didn’t. In fact, you didn’t react at all. He didn’t dwell on it then, opting to get you somewhere safe and secure. 

“9 broken ribs, a broken left femur, both shoulders dislocated, pneumonia, dehydration and severe malnutrition, multiple lacerations that required stitches, broken wrists, all 10 fingers broken, right kneecap dislocated, multiple concussions, and a hairline fracture on their skull.” The doctor had said. It hurt all of them to hear how badly wounded you were. 

They gave you two weeks to recover before asking any questions. The first week you were unconscious, in a coma as your body tried to heal you. The second week you spent in worrying silence, saying nothing to anyone, not to your doctors, not to your teammates, not to your friends.

Price sent Ghost in first. He had had similar experiences and Price figured he would be able to relate. However when Ghost came storming out an hour later, slamming the door behind him, he came to regret that decision. 

“I got over it.” He had said, “Why can’t they?” Price reminded him that not everyone responds to trauma the same way and sent him away.

Soap tried next, and came out near tears after sending you into a panic attack after calling you ‘Little Bird’. He was confused until Ghost not-so-gently reminded him of the video they had seen, of the words ‘Pretty Bird’ being used over and over. Ghost pretended not to hear him throwing up in the toilet later. 

Gaz tried, to no avail. He ended up just sitting in silence with you, showing you videos of his cats. He counted it a victory when your busted lips twitched into a tiny grin for a few seconds.

And on and on it went, with refusing to speak to anyone. They were losing hope until the psychiatrist finally spoke with you. 

“GIve them time.” She said gently, “You trying to force a response will just make this worse.” 

So they do. The higher-ups still want answers, of course, but Price manages to dissuade them from asking until you are out of the hospital. They spend the weeks treating you as normal as possible, stopping by to give you updates on missions, show you a video of Soap absolutely biffing it in training, tell you the latest gossip of which recruit is sleeping with who. But even though they are trying, they still handle you with kiddie gloves, afraid that the wrong word or look will make you shatter irreversibly. 

Which brings you to now. It’s nearly 2 A.M, and visiting hours are long over as you stand unsteadily in the bathroom, staring at your pale, pathetic form in the mirror. You open and close your mouth, trying and failing to get words out, the barrier cemented in your mind by blood and tears too strong to break down.  

‘Speak, you stupid fucking bitch!’ You scream mentally at yourself, ‘You have to speak! If you don’t you'll be discharged and you'll never be able to serve again! They already think you’re broken, and if you can’t tell them different they’ll never treat you the same. Stop. being. So. Fucking. Pathetic.’

Tears streak your cheeks as you slide down the wall. You draw your knees up, hiding your face in them as your shoulders shake with silent sobs. Rationally, you know you are safe. Rationally, you know that if you were to speak, nothing would happen. But it’s not the rational part of your brain that is keeping you from speaking. 

Going dark in that hellhole you were trapped in had saved your life, and you couldn’t seem to get past it. Sure, not responding had almost killed you right at first, as Kravchenko became more and more ruthless in his attempts to get you to speak again, but eventually he grew bored. His little plaything had lost its sparkle, and he locked you in a cell and threw away the key as soon as he lost interest. But starving to death was still a better alternative to the all-consuming agony that had been your day-to-day. 

And now, the subconscious, irrational part of your brain was convinced that if you spoke you’d be dragged right back and strapped to a table, that you’d wake up to find that your rescue had all been a dream. That you-

“-/n! Y/N! Y/N!” You flinch, startled out of your reverie. You look down to see rivulets of blood running down your arms, your nails having gouged holes into your skin. You look up to see the eyes of a worried nurse, holding your hands in hers. 

“There you are. We lost you for a minute. Do you mind letting me bandage you up here?” Her voice is soft and gentle and you find yourself nodding, letting her lead you back to your bed where she cleans and bandages your upper arms. 

“What are you doing up so late sweetie?” Her voice is calming, almost hypnotic, “I mean, I’m awake cause I get paid to be, but you should be sleeping all your injuries away, shouldn’t you dearie? If I was you, I’d of been cryin’ too, being awake at 2 A.M. for free.” She laughs, the sound echoing through the room, “Course, I suppose you probably think I’m crazy for agreeing to work this shift anyways. Did you know I was supposed to have this shift off? But Roberta’s kids have the flu and so I agreed-” She keeps talking, her voice soothing your fears and helping you relax. YOu can’t help but mentally thank Roberta’s kids for being sick, for sending this wonderful lady who does not treat you like you're going to break at any moment to you tonight. 

“And that should about do it dearie. Just press that little call button if you need any more help, alright?” She says cheerfully. She squeezes your hand and heads to the door before pausing. 

“Make sure to get some sleep.” She leaves, gently closing the door behind her. Something about her makes you feel safer than you have since falling off that helicopter. Maybe it was her motherly demeanor, maybe it was the fact that she treated you like a normal human being, maybe it was the fact that she could have put you on a psych hold an ddin;t, but whatever it was, you loved her for it. 

And as the door closes and the room stills, you whisper a quiet “thanks.” 

Part 4?

~tags~

@louthedino @scarletdfox @dangerkitten1705 @warenai @spineless-spino @rainy-darling

[chloesimaginationthings]

Abby meets Cassie’s favorite FNAF animatronic Roxy!

[werewolf-artfriend]

hi everyone! im opening up for commissions :D if ur interested then send me a dm!

since this is the first time im doing this ill start with just a couple of slots to see if ive chosen a good price level :) 1/3 slots taken!

vvvvv terms n condishes below ! vvvvv

terms

payment upfront, through ko-fi, once sketch is approved

final pieces are usually around 2000px at 72 dpi, i can do other dimensions and dpi if you want!

no refunds unless i can't complete your commission

1-4 week turnaround time

i reserve the copyright to commissioned pieces, but you can use the piece for personal purposes

you can also repost the piece with credit :)

i may post the commission online myself; if you want then i can include your username or not post it at all, let me know!

i reserve my right to decline a commission for any reason

ill happily draw: animals furry stuff, both feral and anthro ocs fan art violence & gore nsfw: nudity, porn, kink, stuff like that!

i probably wont draw: subjects heavy on mechanical details (guns, mecha, etc) some gory subjects certain fetishes

these terms and prices are intended for private customers commissioning art for personal purposes, professional and commercial inquiries are asked to contact me directly

[muzzleroars]

Gabriel (/ˈɡeɪbriəl/) - “Strength of God”, more accurately “God is my strength” (or, what does it mean to be the righteous hand without a body?)

[mikimeiko]

Our Flag Means Death Season 2 - one gif per episode (with the first gif from their first scene and the last gif from their last scene) | Izzy Hands