#personally what also gets to me about it is that it disregards the symbol of the fire to me?
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I might come back at a later time with an actually thorough analysis on this, but the irony of those posts that go like "wow we could make a whole new version of We Didn't Start The Fire with just the events of the past five years" really is so interesting to me.
Like the story behind the song is that at age 40 Billy Joel was talking to a 21 year old guy who was complaining about how crazy the time he was living in was and thereby undermining the times before that. So billy joel wrote we didnt start the fire as a way to show that any time period has been filled with extreme events. Yes, times are crazy now and they have always been crazy and they will continue to be crazy. And theres a bunch of ways one may interpret those statements and one can see it as a message of hope or understanding or dismissal, but i'm not really interested in dissecting it in such a way here right now honestly bcs im sleepy.
It's just so funny to me that the whole point of this song is to point out that actually the experience of living through crazy and world-changing times is NOT unique and here all these people are going like "woaah this is such a unique time we could write We Didn't Start The Fire all over again!" as if that isn't the exact opposite of the point of the song!
#and like maybe you dont agree with mr joel#thats fine!#obviously theres discussions to be had about whether this time may be stranger than earlier times#im not trying to have a discussion about that#im just saying... yall are saying the exact opposite of what the song is saying and it is funny but i also kinda wanna shake you about it#personally what also gets to me about it is that it disregards the symbol of the fire to me?#like to me it's very much about how many of the issues we are still dealing with today have been handed down for generations#and it is a reminder to actually look at the roots and not the symptoms etc etc#and i feel like that goes lost when you just try to one up the forty years billy joel writes about by writing abt the past five or whatever#so anyway i would be very open to this concept if it actually interacted with the message of the original in a meaningful way#but the people suggesting this stuff dont seem to be aware of that message so....#then it's just funny and ironic in an awkward way#also if i had more energy there'd be an interesting analysis abt just kind of pointing out how this may just be what feeling alive is like?#like it's all going so fast and there is so much happening and obviously every time feels like the most momentuous time#so it makes a lot of sense for people to latch onto we didnt start the fire#bcs it does so well in projecting that feeling of too many things happening all at once
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crow & goat in courtship.
yandere!rollo flamme x (female) reader
cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, dub-con, coercion, religious symbolism/imagery, mentions of pregnancy, implied breeding kink, obsession, alcohol/intoxication, slight codependency, non-consensual touching/groping, au in which you attend classes at nbc instead of nrc under rollo's supervision
note - the crow is always on call.
i. “but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death” (james 1:14-15).
Rollo answers on the third ring.
He always does—claims it’s polite to answer after three chimes just as it’s right to knock thrice before entering a residence. He’s stubborn in his ways, a crow bound by routine, only ever doing things in threes. Habitual to a fault, strictly so. You are similar in that regard; you find solace in the familiarity of predictable patterns. The relief that stems from knowing what will come next—in being prepared for all manner of events even if you haven’t yet reached the first.
But then you also like fun, and the best sort of fun is often had with a disregard for habit. Disorder and spontaneity. Throwing all caution to the wind. Trusting in the arms of the crow who will catch you, the carefree goat, when you fall.
“Good evening,” he mutters into the phone, his voice sounding so close despite the distance between you and him. “It’s rather late. Is there a specific reason you’re calling?”
“Rollo! Hey! Hiii,” you drawl, grinning like a fool. You stagger through the door into the chilly, starless night, your heels slipping on cracked, frozen pavement. “Whoa!” You stumble against the railing with a carefree giggle. “Almost lost my footing!”
There’s a stalling silence on his end. And then, with a deep inhale, he asks evenly, “Have you gone out?”
“Mm. Yeah. Went out to celebrate with some friends.”
“Some friends?”
“Like one or two…or a whole house full of ’em.”
“(Name).”
“What?” When he doesn’t reply, you laugh. Not because it’s humorous or embarrassing, but to merely fill the silent gap. “What? Roro, you’re sho stern. Don’t lecture me!”
“So you’ve been drinking.”
“What?! No!” With an offended scoff, you shake your head even though he’s not here to witness it. “You know NBC’s no-booze rule. I’m not gonna get caught—won’t get caught.”
“You slurred your speech and called me ‘Roro’—both in the same sentence, mind you.”
“So what? Rollo, Roro. Tomato, potato.”
“It’s to-may-to, to-mah-to. And—” he exhales an exhausted breath— “Never mind. That’s besides the point. Why, pray tell, have you called me at midnight?”
“Why’re you up at midnight?”
“I could ask the same of you.”
“Not fair! I asked first!”
“Not quite.” There’s a smile in his voice when he speaks next. “If I were to visit your room right now—knock on the door and wait there—would you let me in?”
“Yeaaah,” you start to say, only to catch yourself halfway in the trap. “No!”
“No?”
“No…thank you. No visitors tonight. S’late and I gotta study for tomorrow’s exam.”
“And a party will somehow aid in that endeavor? (Name), you do realize you’ve spun one too many lies and now you’re woefully entangled.”
“Less poetry and more picking me up.”
“Ah, so that’s what this is about.”
“Rollo, please be nice,” you whine, your lips twisting into a pout. “S’cold and I didn’t bring a jacket and I’m kinda-maybe-sorta a little…”
“A little…?” he encourages, and you can just envision that self-satisfied smirk of his.
“A little-drunk-but-also-not-really-drunk-but-also-totally-drunk,” you hastily admit in a string of syllables. Snowfall swirls around you, and you grasp the bannister to prevent yourself from falling over. “Oh, it’s snowing.”
“I can see perfectly clear from my window. Beautiful, is it not?”
“So stop being an obtuse dick and come get me before I freeze!”
“Should that come to pass, you may just rival the Righteous Judge at the entrance. I’ll be sure to polish you every month.”
“I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna poison your coffee and watch you drink it, and then we’ll see who’s stiffer than a statue. It’ll be you—in death, y’know!”
“Will you now?”
“If you don’t pick me up, yeah!”
There’s the distinct sound of shuffling. You hear crisp pages turning and then a book closing before the rustling of fabrics invades your keen ears. You picture your responsible friend pacing around his room as he dresses himself for the weather.
“Very well,” he says after a moment, ever the composed gentleman. “Send me the address.”
“You’re the best. Love you lots. Thank you! Thank you!” You press your lips together to mimic obnoxious kissing sounds, which elicits a huff of amusement from him. “It’s not a far walk. Promise.”
“Stay on the phone with me. I’ll be there shortly. And don’t go anywhere.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
“You do realize sneaking out is against the rules, yes?”
“Aaand here comes the lecture. Gimme a break. Can’t a girl celebrate her birthday in peace?”
You drag your hand over your mouth and wipe sticky wine residue away. In the process, you smear black lipstick. Dark like night, like a crow’s inky feathers, it leaves your once-flawless appearance in disarray.
“There are much better ways to celebrate. Did I not say I’d take you into town this weekend and we could celebrate then?”
“That’s so far from now.”
“It’s three days away, (Name).”
“Still too far.”
“Don’t expect me to provide cover if you get caught.”
“And you can just leave campus whenever you please?”
“This is different.”
“Yeah?” You giggle into the speaker, warm and fuzzy and endlessly entertained. It’s enough of a distraction to keep winter from seeping into your marrow. “How so?”
“This is official Student Council business.”
“Really?” you ask with an impressed whistle.
“Indeed. On account of my being President, it’s only natural I punish students who conduct themselves poorly. Shall we review your list of infractions and decide on a suitable penalty together?”
“I’d rather we not.”
“Oh, but I insist. Perhaps our discussion and the cold will sober you and teach you a valuable lesson about integrity.”
With an exaggerated sigh, you lower onto the step to await his arrival. The icy stone digs harshly into your rear, which is hardly covered by your too-short dress. It’s definitely not fingertip length or weather-appropriate. You shiver and stuff your hand into the pocket of your cropped sweater. You should take shelter inside, where it’s plenty cozy and inviting, but your inflated pride disagrees. Retreating to the warmth after you’ve already bid farewell would be foolish. At least, that’s what the alcohol in your system is telling you.
So the goat endures the cold, for it knows that that is all that awaits it as the crow closes in.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m an academic criminal. Get on with it, President Flamme.”
“Let’s see. You’ve disobeyed campus curfew, snuck out on a school night, attended a party when your grades could use improvement, neglected your studies, drank carelessly, called the one person who can and will punish you for this and the aforementioned…”
The sound of crunching snow pierces the air then, and you look up in time to see Rollo approaching. He’s dressed in a long woolen overcoat with a scarf twined around his throat and a hat pulled down over his ears. He smirks at you from where he stands on the pavement, cutting the call and sliding his phone into his pocket. Tilting his head at you, he pulls another coat from under his arm and offers it to you.
“And you’re dressed for your death.”
“Okay, that one’s personal.”
Rolling your eyes, you rise on unsteady legs. He meets you at the stairs, climbing two of them to help you into the coat. It’s an embrace more welcoming than that of a lover’s, so soft and comfortable that it immediately rejuvenates your weary skeleton. It smells like Rollo, too—like coffee and weathered pages in an old book. You hum your approval, snuggling into the fluffy fabric. He’s plopping his hat on your head next, tugging it so far down that you almost slip on the slick stoop. Like he always has, ever since he first met you, he catches you.
“Hello to you, too.”
You blink back at him. “Yeah, thanks. I owe you.”
“Let me see your hands.”
He takes them in his, runs his thumbs over the tops, and then procures mittens from his pockets. You watch him slide both over your hands, rubbing them together briefly to generate heat at a faster rate. Your body sways, gaze unfocused. He’s just about to unwind his scarf from his shoulders when you reach out to stop him.
“I’m good. This is enough.”
“You’ll catch your death—”
“And you won’t in just a coat and scarf? At least let me give you your hat back.”
He shakes his head, holding his hand up in objection. “You’ve been out in this weather longer. It’s only fair. But, really, did you have to wait out here? Couldn’t you have gone inside?”
“My pride’s on the line.”
Rollo’s unamused stare cuts through you. “You won’t have much pride left if you’re encased in ice.”
“Then we’d best get moving. Campus awaits!”
You wrap your arm around him, clinging out of instinct. Rollo peers at the proximity, his lips upturned in a covert half-smile, and his arm snakes slowly around your waist in return. You don’t notice this, for you’re too busy dragging your feet through the snow while he acts as a helpful crutch, stable in a way you just aren’t. Not right now, at least.
But then the goat is never stable enough to survive the inevitable—the swift, sacrificial blade that befalls and beheads, leaving gory spatters to run red and visceral in the wake of the end.
You’ve never known, and you never will. How could you when he’s been nothing but cordial? A clean slate. Admirable guidance. A helpful friend. Your only friend.
The crow descends in three knocks. He lets himself in regardless of whether you wish to have him as a guest. He is unwanted and feared, the very foundation of death and destruction, and he has set his beady eyes on you—the goat.
It’s common knowledge that you cannot pray away the crow. He persists, as always, quiet even when his wings beat against his sleek, feathered body like the loudest war drums. And the caw—the dreadful caw! It’s a most disturbing cry, one that pierces through the dark like jarring slivers of light in shadow. Or a butcher’s blade through flesh, sawing through sinew to get to brilliant bone beneath. The hoarse call of Death’s crows—they circle in a murder, swooping down to meet you as harbingers of malevolence.
Rollo has always strived to lead a virtuous existence defined by a rigidly righteous moral compass. In the gloomy pits of misery and hatred, where he festers in a bundle of tar-colored feathers, he does not hope for sunshine. He no longer knows the uplifting ebullience of life’s greatest miracles. Because there is no miracle in death or tragedy. Because there is no happiness to be found in a doomed hand, every card showcasing Death and its many forms. Not for him. Never for him.
But then, amidst the despair and despondency, each all-consuming, a goat fell into his lap.
A divine offering to the crow, who is so far from divinity himself, can only mean one thing. It is neither conciliatory nor a reward.
It is a sacrifice.
But then the City of Flowers adores its goats—reveres them for all that they are. Goats are cherished, not sacrificed. But to drag a nameless, magicless goat from the grounds of its far-off, inconceivable pasture—is that not the cruelest form of sacrifice? To drop this goat into the equitable embrace of the crow—is that not the sweetest gift? Generous yet unfair. Plucked right from the folds of another heaven.
The mortal coil can be callous, which is precisely why the crow is permitted to exist in impartiality. Death does not care for who you were in life and who you will be in the next, and the crow only ever oversees finales. Never beginnings. Much like a deity does not care for what good you can do if you do not first adore them in copious adequacy.
The crow carries with him a most fearsome knell—the chime of judgment, to be delivered right on time like an execution staged for noon.
All throughout life, you can plan for the crow and all that he shall deliver, and still you will never be fully prepared to greet him. He brings misfortune bundled in baskets woven from the bones of sacrifices past. In holy scripture, it is the goat who is punished most often—who is slaughtered at the altar, who is arranged as peace to quell the torrential fury of the deity, who is made to suffer at the hands of those hoping to avoid damnation or godly wrath, who is meant to shoulder the blame when no one else wants to. Favors have been bought with the blood of the goat, its head nestled amidst verdant grasses, pure forevermore even when it is dyed carmine. It appeases and pleases.
So it’s just—religiously so—that the crow takes the goat for himself, strips it bare, and proves to the prying eyes in heaven that the greatest sin is more than lustful temptation.
For the crow—for Rollo—the heaviest sin, a vile, cursed burden from his very first breath—it is existence itself.
And only the blood of a pure goat can wash away such filth—can cleanse what has been rotting within. The goat can make a garden out of the crow—bring life and love to its barren insides regardless of however fleeting its presence may be. It is within this garden—within the softest, fertile soil—where the crow shall sow the most special seeds.
You cross the bridge with Rollo, your laughter filling the cloudy sky as you recall all manner of amusing stories from the past few hours. Drinking games paired with drunken gossip. Delicious wines and snacks. A party with an energy so lively it could rival the city’s annual festivals. Even though he doesn’t seem outwardly pleased to hear any of it, he listens well and occasionally stops to steady you before you can topple over the railing into the water below. Your heels clack against smooth, frosted stone, and the wind whips at your face, each snowflake biting and vicious. Noble Bell’s vast campus waits just beyond the wrought iron gate, standing proud and backdropped by the night.
“You think anyone’s up?” you ask, curling your fingers into his arm as he guides you through.
Rollo eases the gate shut. “They might if they hear you. It would be best to keep quiet.”
You pantomime zipping your lips and discarding a nonexistent key. He quirks a small smile at that and then hurries you along. Nights are always peaceful at Noble Bell. The halls are desolate and quiet, devoid of all signs of student life. Your and Rollo’s shoes click in unison as you walk through the hall and past the courtyard. You gaze at the arched openings, counting each one as they become fainter with the growing distance.
Your breath materializes in front of you when you sigh. “I’m so sleepy. I wanna go to bed for a thousand years.”
“You’ll miss your exam if you do that,” he chides, tutting. “And every other exam that will follow.”
“That’s the point!” Your voice bounces off the walls, returning to you in a reverberating echo. Cringing under Rollo’s disapproving glower, you speak softer. “Oops. Sorry.”
“Just how much have you had to drink? You can hardly walk straight without leaning on me for support.” He narrows his eyes, his lecherous gaze crawling down to your bare legs. “Not that I mind…”
His words don’t reach you, for they’re swallowed in a howling gale as it sweeps across the courtyard. You spy the dormitories then, each one looking more like gingerbread covered in confectioners’ sugar instead of buildings dusted with snow. Your eyelids droop while you cross the distance to reach your designated building, your every movement feeling slower than molten molasses, and by the time you’re actually inside the dorm—Rollo’s shushed you more than once—you’re yearning for the warmth of your bed.
So it’s bewildering when, rather than your own room, you stop at Rollo’s instead.
He opens the door and steps inside with you in tow. You keep your mouth shut, too tipsy to think coherently. After he clicks the lamp on, which leaves the room awash in soft shades of amber, he shrugs his coat off, draping it over a nearby chair. You drag yourself over to his bed and flop down, squeezing your eyes shut to block out both the light and your spinning surroundings. Rollo doesn’t say anything, but you hear him shuffling about his room, crossing to close and lock the door before walking back towards you. The mattress dips under his weight, and you feel nimble fingers working to undo the buttons on your coat.
“Can I sleep here tonight?” you ask, cracking your eyes open just as he’s pulling the coat from your person.
Rollo folds it neatly and sets it aside. “You’re practically melting into my bed already. It would be quite the undertaking to make the walk back to your room at this hour.”
“So considerate,” you tease, grinning up at him. Sleep stretches your expression into something dazed, and you yawn loudly. “Then I’m gonna sleep here. Wake me up before class.”
You almost drift off, but those frigid fingers are moving to tug you out of your sweater next. They crawl across your bare shoulders like a spider on a web.
“You really are something,” he marvels, glancing at your body sprawled beneath him. “To brave the cold in such thin material…”
“Stupid choice. I know.”
“It appears we’re in agreement.”
“Shut up,” you snap back with a weak laugh. “You’re no better, showing up so cozy and then giving everything to me.”
Rollo memorizes the way the form-fitting dress hugs your figure. He inhales a shaky breath and brings his hands back to his sides. Your chest is right here. So close. So frustratingly close.
He can’t indulge. He really shouldn’t. It’s unbecoming to show such unfair favorability when he’s meant to remain impartial. Death should not lust for the beauty of life because it only knows endings—or the beginnings of ghostly eternity. The crow should not allow himself to be swept up in tumultuous temptation.
And the goat is the only friend he’s known—the only one who understands the crow, if only by a few meager slivers. But someday the goat will know.
Rollo swallows his inhibitions, beating his urges away with a stick. He’s not one for rash decisions; he’s meticulous and thoughtful. He would never take such a risk—would never nosedive into a crude confession. He’s plotted it in his diary, but it’s never come to fruition. He restrains himself because he must. Because it’s the polite and proper thing to do when caught up in courtship. Because if he opens his torso and allows you to poke around inside, you’ll find that he is not the friend you’ve known for all these months.
He is a fiend, devilishly so, wearing the hide of a goat to put the real one at ease.
Warring with rationality, he slides away from you and intends to recover at his desk. He’ll scrawl all of the things he wishes to do to you in there and that will be enough. That will help clear his head of the intoxicating fog that settles whenever he’s with you in private. But then he’s reaching to untie the canopy draped over his bed, each corner undone within seconds. The sheer curtains fall in thin layers, confining the both of you to this island in the middle of a barren sea. It’s darker in here, dimly lit by the faint glow of the lamp outside.
You blink up at him, owlish.
“You…” He stops himself, shakes his head, and turns away. Hastily, he fishes his handkerchief from his pocket. With this enclosed propinquity, he can smell your perfume. It’s spiced and flowery—alluring and adorable all at once—and it assaults both his nose and mind. “You should sleep. It’s late.”
This is for the best. The crow is only meant to look after the goat, remain unaffected even in the face of lustful, fateful sacrifice.
But you’re here. You’re splayed like a spill, perfectly imperfect, and your shoulders are a canvas coveting kisses. He clutches his handkerchief in a white-knuckled fist.
“Mm, okay. Night…”
“Yes… Yes, good night,” he mumbles, lowering his handkerchief. He swallows thickly.
This is for the best.
But even though he thinks this, his arm is stretching out. Closer. Closer. So close, until his hand is hovering just above your chest. He’s so close.
When will he ever have another chance as fortuitous as this?
His hand closes around your breast and he squeezes it experimentally. It’s soft when his fingers dig in gently, depressing with the pressure of his digits. Rollo’s green hues flick to your face. Your eyes are shut, and soft snores slip from your parted lips. He glimpses your chest again and, with the utmost care, slides your dress down to free your breasts. They’re mostly bare, save for the heart-shaped pasties covering your nipples. Rollo heaves a disbelieving sigh.
“Promiscuous,” he mutters, plucking the edge of the first adhesive and peeling it away to reveal the perky nipple beneath. You look so soft, so clean, so pure… What was he even worried about? No one’s had you before. He’s sure of it.
He’s about to remove the other heart when your voice freezes him.
“What…are you doing?”
He holds your gaze. It’s tense for a moment, unspoken accusations brewing between the both of you.
“A massage,” he blurts, but there isn’t a hint of haste in his tone. He suspected this outcome when he chose to traverse the line of right and wrong—and ultimately sided with the former. Because to him it’s right, even if it’s wrong. He knows what will soon follow: disgust and detestation.
Instead, you giggle. It’s sleepy and silly-sounding, but it’s also light and lively.
You catch his hand in yours and drag it back to your chest. “If you wanted to touch, just ask,” you murmur, your words slurring. “Nothin’ wrong with it.”
You’re not just perfect and pure. You’re everything.
Yes, it’s the alcohol blurring your brain and the intimacy of being trapped in a quiet, comfortable space such as this one that allows you to desire him. Would it be the same if you were sober? He can’t quite say, but he doesn’t wish to know. This is enough. This is paradise.
He kneads slow, steady motions into your breast, and you watch from where you’re lying on the bed. His other hand slithers between your legs to search for your clothed clit. Your breath hitches just as his fingers brush it, and he presses in, rubbing with his index. Your arm falls over your face, and your chest rises with every breath.
“How does it feel?” he asks, rolling your nipple between chilly digits.
“Not enough,” you bemoan, curling your fingers into a fist. “S’not enough…”
“How fascinating. I suppose cheap wine truly does turn you into a pute.”
“No… Was definitely expensive. The fancy kind.”
“Was it now?” He circles your clit, predatory and shark-like, his eyes alight with glee. “You say that, but look at the state it’s left you in. Utterly disheveled.”
“That’s because of—” you gasp, your voice rising in pitch— “because of you…”
His heart hammers in his chest, a resounding, pounding melody.
The City of Flowers treasures its goats, and the crow loves his fiercely even though he shouldn’t.
“Did you enjoy drinking yourself foolish and indulging in debauchery?” His fingers dance along your inner thigh, hooking around the hem of your underwear. “Was it a fun celebration?”
You lower your arm to glare halfheartedly at him. “Someone sounds jealous.”
“More so disappointed, mon chou chou,” he coos, sugary, sickeningly sweet. “Someone could have taken advantage of you. Someone could have tainted you with magic.” His lip curls up into a nasty sneer. It lingers for a moment before fading into something calm. He gazes at you, oddly tender. “That didn’t happen, though, yes?”
You shake your head and flinch when he drags your panties down. Dewy strings of your slick come away with it, and you shudder at your newfound nudity. He hums approvingly and drags his finger through the wet patch staining your panties. Driven by libertine compulsion, he stretches viscous strands of your essence between two fingers.
Your eyes find his deceitful greens once more. Silence sparks between the both of you, quickly broken by your exhalation. Rollo kneels before you, taking in the sight of you as your face wavers through the stages of consideration. Upon arriving at your conclusion, you sit up slightly and shuck your dress over your head. And then you’re lying back, shaking your panties from off your ankle, and wrapping your legs around his waist to draw him in closer.
You grin, coquettish. “Why not search for yourself if you’re so worried, Mr. Student Council President?”
There’s no turning back. Not that he ever would. Not when the goat’s given him the signal. The blade doesn’t fall, but he does.
And this is better than dreams and erotica. This is real.
He surges forward to fit his lips against yours. Sloppy and inexperienced, he molds himself to your body. You tug him against you, your hands working to undress him. Clothes and shoes are cast aside between open-mouthed kisses, torn off half-buttoned and ripped away from soles. You breathe him in, gasping into his mouth. Translucent strings of saliva connect your mouths when you part, soon broken when you lean in for a chaste peck.
“You’re okay,” he says, the words practically bleeding onto your own tongue with how close he is. “Still as pure as the day I first met you.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“The best thing.”
His third and fourth fingers prod at the depths of your pussy, pressing inwards. Shallow at first. He watches your face unblinkingly, burning every pleasured contortion into his brain, and slides his thumb along your clit. Your breathing staggers, coming in quick huffs, and you grab at the bedsheets to steady yourself. Rollo works you open on those fingers, curling and scissoring in equal measure. The slick squelches join in the salacious symphony you’re currently producing. Every sigh and groan come together in perfect harmony. You’re a heavenly harp, and he’s plucking your strings like an expert musician.
“Tonight is unforgivable,” he adds, and you blink through blissful tears to view him. “Folly is the worst distraction.”
“Then be stupid with me,” you joke, running your hands over his shoulders. He’s so cold. “Warm yourself with me.”
And he will because he’s always wanted to. He’s desired it. Craved it. Coveted it. Thought of nothing else for days and days, each delusion so cyclical it often felt tangible.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, sliding his other hand up your hip and towards your rib. He traces the path of where it lies beneath layers of flesh before pressing down to feel it. “So beautiful…”
Your hand glides into his, fingers twining like silken thread around a spool. A lopsided smile lifts your lips, and you preen under him. “Yeah? Am I really?”
“I wouldn’t lie about the obvious…” Your walls hug his fingers tighter then, and a shiver electrifies your nerves. He hums again, quite pleased. “Oh, did you like that?”
“I did. Very much.”
Lashes fluttering against your cheekbones, your head thrown back in ecstasy ever-mounting, you render him ensorcelled. Like a prized Renaissance nude, a goat laid to sacrifice in the crow’s nest, you are beatific. Divinely so.
“Allow me to reiterate then.” He hastens his pace, pumping his fingers relentlessly. You tamp down a shameless moan. “You’re exquisitely beddable. A work of art. Enchanting. Une belle femme.”
You’re nearing the edge—very gradually, but not quite—and so it’s devastating when he slips his fingers out, each one thoroughly coated in you. They shimmer in the dim light, reminding you of where they had previously been.
“Put it back in,” you beg with wide, glossy eyes. “C’mon… Please don’t stop now. Was so close. So close and—”
Your complaints are curbed when you follow his hand as it moves to wrap around his half-hard cock. He strokes himself thrice, using your slick as lube, until his cock is curving up against his stomach. You stare at him; he stares right back.
And then you realize he intends to go all the way.
“Wait, Rol…lo… S’not my safe day,” you say, shifting away. Whether impatiently or anxiously, he can’t tell, but he can certainly guess. Your world spins once, a dizzying blur, before it promptly clears. In the very center of your vision, as he’s always been, Rollo remains. “S’not safe…”
He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with levity. “I know.”
He’s kept track, dutiful like always.
You attempt to crawl out from under him, but he stops you. Your stomach churns.
“I’ll pull out in time,” he promises, rubbing soothing circles into your plush hips.
Even with the alcohol still buzzing through your system, you aren’t convinced. “N-No, really, we should stop here…”
“You’ll feel so good. Come now, aren’t we nearly there already?”
Rollo lifts your legs onto his shoulders. You squirm with more determination this time, but his fingers dig into your thighs. With a startled squeak, you sink into the mattress, cowed into submission.
“We… We can’t.”
“Why not?” The smooth, soft head of his cock prods curiously at your pussy.
You chew your lip, admitting in a meek tone, “I… I could get p-pregnant…”
“Pregnant,” he parrots, tasting the word as if it’s a delicacy he has yet to sample. His cock twitches. “Pregnant…”
“So… So that’s why…”
“Do you not want children?”
“I… Well… Now is kinda…”
He presses onwards, sinking in slowly. Your breath hitches; your heart stumbles. The intrusion is not entirely unwanted, for your slick, snug walls cling to his shape, and you almost give in to bodily inclination. But it doesn’t feel right. You’re scared. No matter how naturally your body reacts, you don’t want this.
“Rollo, wait—”
“It would be a wonderful thing—to see you rounded with my children.” Rollo props himself on either side of you, his body pinned to yours in sinful, sweaty connection. He exhales a deep breath, restraining himself as he pushes deeper. Patience is a virtue, after all. Your expression tightens with discomfort, and so he peppers your face with placatory kisses. “To see you grow in and—mmh—out of the most flattering maternity wear. To behold every change that blesses this beautiful body of yours… To see you swell with my love, filthy as it may be. Ah, but pregnancy is just as messy… Nevertheless, it shall be a special bond for us—a sacred vow, if you will. We are connected here—” he punctuates this point by slotting the rest of his length inside, and your legs involuntarily close around him to keep him there— “and soon here when life develops within.”
One hand splays across your stomach to pat it with fondness. You choke on your helpless whimper when he rocks his hips once, experimenting with the movement. It’s awkward, but it reminds you that he’s inside. So close to your womb that in just a few more thrusts he might—
“No… No, please… Rollo, you have to—oh—have to pull out. Please pull out. Don’t wanna get pregnant…”
“Oh, but you would be so beautiful.” He breathes you in, savoring sex and floral fragrance. “If I’m allowed one miracle—just one for all the anguish I’ve endured—let it be this.”
You know not of what anguish he speaks, for he’s never verbalized it, but even so it can’t possibly be so agonizing that it would warrant such invasion.
The vise-like hold your velvety walls have on his cock is deliciously addictive. He groans while he ruts into you, his eyelids fluttering. He could be animalistic and cruel in his movements—ravish you as if the world is faced with annihilation and this is his final hour—but instead he settles for exploratory leisure. His hand fits into yours and he squeezes it gently. A feeble protest builds in your throat and so he swallows it with a hungry kiss, his mouth molding against yours.
Your nails dig into his shoulders when he draws back and slides in again, filling you deeper than before. You breathe between kisses, panting and licking into his mouth in even intervals. He does much the same, anchored to you in a way that is both temporary and yet so permanent.
The world narrows down to this single sliver of space, enclosed in a canopy. And in it, laid bare and fertile, the goat is sacrificed to the crow. Death cannot reach either one here. There is only the promise of new life, thrust upon the goat all at once.
You don’t have the willpower to object, for you’ve already found yourself entrapped, so instead you cry. Tears track down your cheeks; your mascara runs with it. Ruined. So, too, is your pitch-black lipstick, smeared along the edges of your lips and printed onto Rollo’s porcelain skin.
Rollo’s hips stutter to a halt and he holds you against him when he spills thick and hot inside. Nothing is wasted; it’s all emptied deep within. If you’re lucky, it won’t take. But if some mischievous fertility goddess has cursed you, you’ll wake nauseous in the coming weeks.
If you have anything worth praying for, it’s the former.
The both of you are panting in the aftermath, but only one is coming down from his glorious high. You remain unsatisfied, your peak not yet breached. Rollo rolls his hips once more for good measure before easing out. You crumple into the wrinkled sheets, frigid and still as a statue. Carved empty and hollow, yet stuffed with sin.
The crow has come. Though this time the gift of tragedy is something between boon and curse.
— — —
The curtains are drawn to let in sunlight. It filters in through frosted glass, each pane stamped with snow, and it blinds you the moment you try to open your eyes. You twist and turn in bed, feeling heavy with hangover. A splitting ache cracks your head in half, and you groan loudly.
“Fuckin’ hell,” you hiss, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. “This sucks…”
You force yourself to wake after two more minutes of rolling around. Groaning once more, you sit up in bed. The canopy has been tied back in place, and when you glance sidelong at Rollo’s desk you notice something. A glass of water and a plate are waiting for you, seeming more enticing by the second. You throw the covers off, realize you’re nude seconds later, and promptly snatch them back. They’re wrapped around you like a comforting cloak. You stagger out of bed to check the contents. Two croissants, a single orange, a dollop of strawberry marmalade, and two tablets are arranged on the plate.
Hangover medicine, you realize, lifting one up to scrutinize it.
You peer around the room. It’s empty. And then you see the clock. It’s a little past noon.
“Oh,” you mumble, lowering into the chair. You clutch the blanket closer. “Rollo must be in class.”
Amidst the piercing migraine, which you quickly resolve by throwing your head back to swallow both tablets in a single gulp of water, two things occur to you. You’re in Rollo’s room. Naked. In Rollo’s room. Surely you must have spent the night after you returned from the party. Why are you naked?
But more importantly…
“Shit! My exam!” The excitement doesn’t help your current state, and you slouch in your seat, even more exhausted than before. “I completely missed it… Rollo’s gonna kill me.”
You scrub the sleep from your eyes and reach for a croissant, content with giving up. You don’t want to endure the walk of shame from Rollo’s room to yours. If anyone were to catch you, they’d certainly be left wondering.
As you nibble on the croissant, admiring the way Rollo’s arranged the contents of his room, you spot the edge of something beneath the plate. Perplexed, you push it aside to reveal a note. Penned in Rollo’s effortlessly pretty script, it reads:
I’ll forgive your transgression just this once if you’ll forgive mine. For now, get some rest. I’ve left breakfast here. Stay for however long you’d like.
You scowl at his attempt of ‘breakfast,’ and your stomach rumbles in dissatisfaction.
“Right?” you say to your stomach, clicking your tongue. “If anything, this is hardly a snack.”
But you’re grateful for his efforts. He cares. He always has. From the very first day you found yourself in this world, he cared.
While you peel the orange, pondering foggy recollections of last night, you begin to realize just how sticky you feel. As if someone’s slobbered all over you and left it to dry. The feeling persists between your thighs.
You pause momentarily, overcome with an uncanny sense of panic as you piece the puzzle together. The still-forming picture does not look good.
“Shit…” you whisper, haunted with a fragmented timeline. “What the hell did we do last night?”
You know. The deep, dark part of your brain knows, but you don’t want to confront it. Because Rollo wouldn’t, right? He couldn’t. He’s always done what’s best for you, so he wouldn’t.
Right?
#yandere twst#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twst x reader#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere rollo flamme#yandere rollo flamm#yandere rollo flamme x reader#yandere rollo flamm x reader#yandere rollo#yandere rollo x reader#n/sfw#tw: dubcon
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hey! can you please write something with peter quill when the guardians needs informations from a guy and his girlfriend starts flirting with him. at the end she got what she wanted but also a jealous/angry boyfriend
Starlord Charm: Peter Quill x Reader
Summary: Peter always flirts with people in front of you on missions, so you decide it’s your turn.
Words: 0.8k+
Warnings: some language
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You’ve lost count of how many missions you’ve had to witness your boyfriend’s “Starlord Charm” on people other than yourself. Flirting with people is one of his favorite tactics for getting information, and it works maybe about half the time (although he likes to insist that it works more than that). Usually you don’t mind at all, especially because you know that under the act he puts on he only has eyes for you, but lately it’s been getting particularly annoying.
He’s gotten a lot more intense and elaborate with his flirting, and it usually happens after you’ve gotten into an argument. It’s his way of messing with you and getting back at you. Sure, you could be the bigger, more mature person and just talk to him about how it makes you feel, but you’d rather have fun with it.
The next time you’re on a mission with the Guardians, you’re tracking down some dangerous weapons and trying to figure out who’s manufacturing and selling them. You really don’t have a lot to go on so far, so currently you’re looking through the archives in the largest library in the galaxy. You’ve all been at it for hours, and you haven’t found so much as a single clue or lead. Whoever it is you’re looking for, they basically don’t exist.
You stay long after dark, and eventually the librarians have to kick you out. You’re all feeling defeated and exasperated, trudging back to the ship in the city lights.
That is, until a certain symbol catches your eye.
You see the same symbol you saw on one of the weapons on the window of a store down the street, and the last employee seems to me walking out right now.
“Come with me, guys,” you say softly, running towards the man.
He watches you as you approach him, understandably on guard.
“Hey!” you wave, trying to be friendly and not scare him away. “Could you help us with something?”
“I guess so?” his eyes dart around the whole group. “I was about to go home actually-”
“Great, thank you,” you beam at him, completely disregarding the last part of what he said. “That symbol on the window, what does it mean?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs. “I just work the closing shift, I don’t really ask questions,”
You sigh, a bit annoyed that you ran into yet another dead end. But maybe, just maybe, he just needs a little persuading.
This is your time to have a little fun.
You look Peter dead straight in the eyes, and then back at the man.
“Hey,” you get the worker’s attention again. “I’m sure you’re tired, handsome, but I could really use the information,”
Both his and Peter’s eyebrows raise at your words.
“Well, I mean, I think my boss has a deal with some company that uses that symbol,” he says. “That’s all I know, though,”
“Oh, you’re the best,” you laugh, briefly touching his arm. “Do you think we could take a look around inside to find out more?”
“I really shouldn’t let you do that-”
“Don’t you want to help us, honey? It’s important,”
“I-” his face changes color from your deep, doe-eyed stare. “I can’t let you in after hours because I’d get in huge trouble, but I can give you my boss’s information. That way you can contact the people who know about it directly,”
He transfers the data to your device instantaneously, as well as his own contact information.
“Oh, thank you!” you peck his cheek and wink at him as he walks away, “Have a good night!”
Peter’s face is still scrunched up long after you part ways with the man, and he finally breaks his silence once you all reach the ship.
“What the fuck was that?”
“I was just getting information, Peter. And I got it, didn’t I?”
“Not like that, you’re not!”
“Oh, so when you flirt with people in front of me it’s fine, but when I do it it’s a problem? That was nothing compared to what you do!”
“My charm is just part of who I am, okay? What do you want me to do, turn it off?”
“Only if you’re going to throw a fit about me turning mine on!”
He sits down with a thump, still glaring at you.
“Does it-” his face softens a bit. “Does it really bother you that much when I flirt with people on missions?”
“A little bit, yeah,” you admit. “Especially because it seems like you do it to make me mad. That’s why I wanted to make you mad back,”
“Well, it worked,” he chuckles. “Although I’m not as cute as you when I’m mad,”
“Wow,” you punch him playfully.
“C’mere,” he pulls you closer, and you sit on his lap. “If it really bothers you, I’ll tone it down, I promise. I’ll find some other way to get back at you when I’m mad at you,”
“Oh really, you’d do that for me?” you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes at his antics.
“I’m serious. I love you too much to let something like this cause problems,” he kisses the side of your head. “Besides, you’re my favorite person to flirt with,”
You smirk, succumbing to his enticements, “I better be.”
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Read this to make a Guardians request!
#peter quill x reader#starlord x reader#guardians of the galaxy x reader#peter quill#starlord#guardians of the galaxy#gotg x reader#guardians of the galaxy vol 3#gotg 3
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I feel like when people ask famous personalities to participate in activism, they may be influenced by the parasocial relationships they have formed with these celebrities and not that they really care about what is going on. They expect famous individuals to act as role models or representatives of their beliefs. That's why I think, it is crucial to maintain a critical perspective and not depend solely on celebrities for activism. This can result in a passive approach to social change and disregard the significance of collaborative action and personal engagement. The majority of celebrities don't care lol even who speak up about it publicly. Their reality is different from ours, like Gigi Hadid also drank Starbucks the other day, Bella Hadid worked with a lot of Zionist brands and did a photo shoot with them recently, etc etc. And let me not start on stans culture... the worst thing ever
Okay this is fascinating because yes! I agree with you so much! But then I was completely floored by the choice of the HADIDS (literal Palestinians who never shut up about the cause) as examples- but actually I love it because I think it opens up two really really important points that maybe get to the heart of the whole issue. Gigi and Bella Hadid are, as I said, literally Palestinian, and have throughout their public lives (not just recently) never been silent or backed down in defense of Palestine even when it has very publicly lost them (Bella primarily) jobs and opportunities, and they both continue to be outspoken even while literally targeted and threatened by zionists. Pretty much everything anyone has wanted or asked for from any celebrity, right?! But here we have, first of all, Gigi having all of that discounted because she bought Starbucks, a brand that is not even an official boycott! I feel like this is a perfect example of prioritizing performative and symbolic activism over actions with material impact, if someone who has been so consistent and stalwart can see all that dismissed because they spent $5 on a coffee (that, again, has no material financial relationship to Israel). I personally think that on a scale of good done vs harm, Gigi can afford a lot of problematic coffees, and this is not even getting into the Hadid families finances which involve huge amounts of money being used and moved around in ways that do more to help the cause than any image choice can unbalance.
And then you say that Bella has worked with zionist brands- I don't know anything about this so I can't speak to it. Given that we are also apparently considering starbucks a zionist brand despite the company not operating in or having any ties to Israel, I would question what this means. But it doesn't matter- I think the point is that consumer/ individual purity isn't possible! No one is making pure consumer choices, no matter how many brands they boycott, and certainly no celebrity can continue to be one without having unsavory connections. I think that BY DEFINITION no celebrity is politically pure because if they cut all those ties, THEY WOULD NO LONGER BE A CELEBRITY. Whether the pursuit of purity is realistic or desirable is a much bigger issue, but the point is that as you say, looking to celebrities to be activists will end only in disappointment. Their job is to entertain in specific ways and they do that; if that's not working for you, then consume some other celebrity's product (persona). As I have said from the start, if you want to stan Louis because he is talented and hot and kind and smart and fun then you are in luck! But if you are looking for an activist spokesperson, he is not going to be that, and yelling at him (or people who don't consider that a deal breaker) isn't going to change that.
#I'm aware that some people don't agree with me about what tactics are effective- welcome to activism! tactic squabbling is our signature!#but I do not appreciate having my opinions on tactics dismissed as defending a celebrities actions at any cost#which I don't think I have remotely done ever honestly I have repeatedly said that if you're looking for an activist#neither Louis nor any other celebrity is that or is going to be and I would recommend giving it up#I think dismissing my arguments as that is not only inaccurate but a bit of a bad faith topic change#but it is what it is🙃#blah blah blah#palestine#I have another ask that I will answer later and get more into the Louis part specifically#but first I'm gonna go do real life stuff! wild but true#starbucks discourse
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Hey guess what? Time for another talk about Stanley Pines. I have not looked to see if anyone else made this connection, so, if I'm just repeating something that's already been established, please disregard 🤣
Anyways, I was thinking about Stan's pet possum, Shanklin, from the 'Lost Legends' graphic novel and how funny it was that he had a possum as a pet, of all things. I also thought it was very interesting how Shanklin is mentioned in the preview of The Book Of Bill (Stan drew a picture of a possum with a knife tied to its back, that has to be a reference to Shanklin). While I was thinking about this, it occurred to me that it's a strange detail for Stan to have a possum as a childhood pet.
Don't get me wrong, having any kind of undomesticated animal as a pet is pretty wild, but I think possums are generally more loathed than other critters? (That's just conjecture since I've heard possums get called ugly while racoons are cute.) Plus, I don't know, that just seemed like a strange choice for Stan.
Myself, I love possums. They're shy, they eat SO MANY TICKS HELL YEAH (fuck ticks, I hate ticks), they're North America's only marsupial which is very neat, they're practically immune to rabies and they do that thing where they play dead.
And who faked their death for thirty years?
Stanley.
When this crossed my mind, I had a moment of like 'hold on a second' because it suddenly struck me that Stanley's possum might be more than just a quirky pet.
Please bear in mind that this is all just speculation on my part 😅
So what kind of guy is Stanley? He's actually not an aggressive person at heart. In Dreamscaperers, when he talks to Soos about what he was like as a kid, he describes himself as weak until boxing lessons toughened him up. Even so, Stanley usually only fights if someone he cares about is in trouble. (We definitely see that repeatedly when it comes to Mabel and Dipper)
When he's on his own however, it seems like his default is to bluff his way out of trouble or run, such as evading the law and Rico, amongst other instances. (I submit his repeated tactic of using smoke bombs as a distraction for his getaway.)
Possums are not aggressive animals. They hiss and growl, but that's more of a defensive display than an actual threat, and again, they play dead as a defense technique.
Now, I wanna bring up the fact that Stan tied a knife to Shanklin's back to make him an 'attack possum'. Doesn't that seem a bit symbolic considering how Stan had to make himself tough?
So, there you have it, I think Shanklin was meant to be a representation of Stanley's character.
If you made it this far, thank you for reading. Here's a meme my friend made after I talked to her about this
(You're the best, S, thank you for listening to me ramble about Stan and his possum)
#gravity falls#TLDR; Stan's possum is a symbolic representation of his own personality/character#Stanley Pines#Stan Pines#grunkle stan#possums#lost legends#Shanklin the attack possum#just my thoughts while walking in the park the other day#Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk.
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So curious about your shrike theory abt him and his anatomy 👀 i'd love to hear more if you have more to share!
@payaso-gomi
Buckle up, and I mean it, because I have quite a lot of thoughts about the show and that thing -> 🦑
There are some parts where I will be getting into headcanon territory but they make sense hear me out:
I think I can divide all of this into 3 parts
1. The Primaries and the "glasshole"
Ok first off, we have to get into the Primaries
These are two instances where we have seen visual representations of the Primaries (cleanup and collages courtesy of my friend @awwkie-dot-jar. Here is their post and their thoughts on 'em!)
So from what we can see, the Primaries seem to be, quite literally, the shapes that represent them in the LAW symbol. A red triangle/pyramid, a blue circle/sphere and. A yellow square/cube
I'm gonna have to use Tezzoree as a gateway for what I want to say here
Commander Tezzoree is a character name-dropped at the end of episode 1. We get a faint glimpse of her in the Punti plush commercial.
Here is a trace of the frame made by @spagheddiesquash (here is the post with it + his theories and ep 4 predictions!)
From what we can make out, Tezzoree also has a shape for a head like the Primaries (a red pyramid! although it's smaller than the ones on her "shoulders").
Tez' body looks more articulated than the Primaries', she has arms while the Trinity only seem to have formless gowns for bodies. Given how she has the title of commander, I suppose it's because she has more practical duties than them. As galactic rulers, they must keep a regal appearance.
I think they're their own kind of entities, and these shapes are all they are really, their bodies are built by other people for them to interact with the world around them. I say this because Primary Red and Tez aren't the only red pyramids we have seen so far
It's been made pretty clear that LAW doesn't want people going in the Quarantine Zone. These things could potentially not be ships, but sentient shapes roaming around the QZ, keeping watch of the corrupted species there.
So what we know about the Primaries' kind so far is that:
They're different shapes, each with a color attributed to them (triangle = red, circle = blue, square = yellow)
They can vary in size
They have to be built bodies for them to interact with the world. ...Or at least with other, non shape beings. Mortals? More on that later.
Now, we can finally get into our dear friend Shrike!
Shrike has a little cyan diamond in his head. With Beebs' attitude on Shrike having an internal translator and this line, it gives us the impression that it's connected to his brain.
There's also more evidence pointing to that, like
Only Shrike can use it
He has to think of what object/thing he wants to take when pulling it out
He has to coordinate his hand, put it inside the light the diamond emits to get things in our out
But then there's something Shrike says about the diamond:
He's had it for as long as he can remember.
That leads me to believe that Shrike is the diamond. He's a Primary (or the same kind of entity as the Primaries) but instead of a robotic body, he was given an organic one.
And with that, I can talk about what that means for his character
2. His personality and him being a "separate"
From how Scratch talks about the Primaries, it looks like they are seen as deities (the praying motion, "give me strength", the use of the word "Trinity" also has religious connotations)
I believe the Primaries are seen like that because they are immortal entities in a different, possibly higher plane of existence than the mortal characters in this world. Their way of thinking is much more abstract and it's incomprehensible to us.
If Shrike is one of them*, it could explain his disregard for other life like the Lythops, and his lack of sense of morality.
*Now, the cyan diamond is an entirely different shape and color to the Primaries', but that doesn't disprove that it's not one of them. It could mean that there are more shapes and colors to their kind than just the basic three we have seen so far. And maybe those have their own followers too...
But if Shrike is this godly thing, how does he not know? Could he have possibly forgotten? Well I have an idea based on a character that's not quite like him, but might be going through something similar
Us used to be part of a hive mind along with Them. That's why they call themselves "Us" and their friend, "Them". It takes them some time to assimilate that they're an individual being now, after being separated from Them. They only use the first person to refer to themselves until the end of the episode.
It's unclear if they were in a hive mind for the fact that they're a fungal species, or because of the cataclysm's corruption. But for either case, once they get separated, Us starts getting curious about every little thing Beebs says, but particularly about
Money and material possessions! Sounds a bit familiar, doesn't it?
What I think is happening with Shrike is that he got put into this organic body and he's experiencing all these feelings that come with being fleshy and mortal, and he is loving it. He loves food, he loves money, he loves adrenaline, he's having fun with it! It's all new and exciting to him because it's not natural to him as a higher plane being.
The more he indulges in these feelings, the more he becomes an individual and he separates himself from others like his kind. The colors could each be hive minds of their own and Shrike got separated from his because of this.
But where did he get this organic body in the first place?
3. His body/anatomy and Enforcement
Nobody knows what Shrike is. Not even he knows what he is. He's supposed to be from a squid based species, but his anatomy is a bit weird for a cephalopod.
For example, my friend and cephalopod enthusiast @samscartoonsofficial brought to my attention that squids and octopuses have blue blood. Shrike has yet to bleed on screen, but it's been hinted a couple of times that he has red blood. ...In fact he has a lot of red based attributes.
This is why I'm going for the science experiment theory. His body was created either by the red department of Enforcement or the yellow department of Science, but it was designed with all these red elements to be fit to be an enforcer. We've been introduced to bio science like the Fodder clones in episode 1, and it's not unlike LAW to do unethical things to their members, like the metal straps on their waists.
They might have taken away his cyan diamond memories in the process of inserting him into that body. Shrike might think he had a life before LAW, but we have yet to see that.
There is this small exchange that kind of challenges this theory however
This implies that Shrike is the last of "his race". And if he was a science experiment, there shouldn't be anyone like him.
My guess is that his body could be designed as a paleontological reconstruction of a long extinct squid species? Think of the first Jurassic Park movies dinosaurs, before it started becoming common knowledge that they had feathers. It's the only way I can see the science experiment theory and this line both making sense.
We don't have enough material on this last point, but I can see the red blood thing going one of two ways
1. It's not blood, but ink
If his body was created by Enforcement, being mostly red based, it'd be no surprise if Primary Red took part in his creation. And maybe they made him be fuelled by ink, just like the ships and many of the objects in the show. Is it possible for species to have ink for blood though?
Maybe?? Skeletons seem to bleed their fire color, and because Ricket's is pure cyan it leads me to believe that he's bleeding ink here.
2. It's blood, but not cephalopod blood
Sam was the one to bring up this theory. Remember when I said that he could be designed to look like a long extinct species?
Yeah. He could have been designed to be a squid-terran hybrid, with Terran-like blood. After all he has an although distorted, similar anatomy to them. It would explain the Spanish and his appreciation for Terrans.
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I'm derailing a bit there on that last part, but to summarize, I believe Shrike to be the same kind of entity as the Primaries, a cyan diamond, controlling a red organic body that was made for him to be in Enforcement. His body might be based on an actual squid species, or perhaps Terrans could be involved.
I could go on and talk about the meaning behind those two colors but I've already gone through a lot of things here and I've hit the image limit so I'd like to do that on a future post :o]
#monkey wrench#monkey wrench theory#thank you to the people who let me include their stuff on this post!!#tag#kie#spagheddiesquash#samscartoonsofficial#ask#payaso-gomi
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inspired by your post about your husband lol, what random things do each member of bts do that make them a new level hotter to you
this is such a cute question!! well, maybe not cute depending on the response, but. u know. 🤷🏻♀️
seokjin — i think people are expecting me to say his brat taming thing, bc it is objectively hot, but if this is a safe space and we’re oversharing together on a stormy friday night, i think it’s kinda hotter if he… doesn’t? like, knows you’re being a brat but goes along w it and “lets” you act up. so that’s not my answer, obviously.
so, to me, it’s his perseverance. i think it’s very hot to straight up say, “hey, i’m not all that great at this, but i’m gonna do it and try my best anyway.” i am a person who gives up the second i’m not good at something right away or as soon as it gets hard, so. yeah. very attractive and hot quality.
yoongi — cop out answer, but anytime he does anything with his hands. it almost put me in the ground when he made all those cutting boards. add on him playing guitar and i was donezo. he has really nice hands and he knows he has really nice hands and it’s sick. he’s sick.
hobi — idk how to explain it but hobi emanates this absolute freak aura and it’s, like. very hot. like you can just tell he’s comfortable and confident in himself and would be down to do anything and get a lil weird with it, and that kind of energy is powerful.
namjoon — this is where parasocial relationships come in handy bc this is something i find so hot hypothetically but would make me wanna strangle him irl, but: his petty streak. my god this man is SO petty and i find it SO hot, but if it was directed at me i’d cry so bad. like, hickeygate??? closer pt. 2?? kill me.
jimin — his absolute disregard for gender roles. really fucking hot. talking abt how much toxic masculinity sucks? hot. drawing the bigender symbol on himself? hot. being described as having “gender neutral charm”? hot.
this is not me trying to assign him a label. it’s me as a person who does not necessarily feel all that connected to their gender (hard to describe what i mean by this but: i’m cis and know i’m cis but i still don’t know what being a woman means to me personally, and therefore i feel disconnected from it sometimes) seeing someone look at what society expects them to look and be like because they’re a man, and say, “yeah, nah.”
taehyung — how messy he is. another trait that might drive me bonkers irl, but from a very far distance? love it. it’s similar to what i said about jimin in the sense that, as an idol, there are expectations for him. and he just waves them away. like, there are not very many idols who are gonna go on weverse and threaten to shoot someone in the neck for violating their privacy, but taehyung will, and that’s very hot of him. those pictures from that club in paris? also very hot of him. he just sort of does what he wants and in an industry that’s so rigid and boxed-in, i can’t help but love a rebel.
jungkook — idk man. fucking everything. i had an embarrassing and public meltdown over him last year in his calvin klein era and now i can’t look him in the eye. if you put a gun to my head and made me pick one, though? it’s the way he’s got this overwhelming sort of fuckboy energy but you also know you could make him cry. we love a man with duality.
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The core of Fullmetal Alchemist: All is one and Dwarf in the flask
Dwarf in a bottle is in my top 5 favorite FMA characters. No, not Father, that emotionless bland white bread empty husk, Dwarf, the whole. The sort of ball of void, the existential anomaly, so inhumanely human full with sins and individuality.
Fullmetal Alchemist is about willpower. About determination, about pursuing your goals without relenting. It is also about humility and about knowledge.
That is reflected in both the protagonist and the villain, though it is a theme common in most characters.
Both Edward and Dwarf in a bottle pursue their goals with great determination and will. Then, what is good with the manner of one and wrong with the other’s?
I believe a lot of it is about the very concept Dwarf symbolizes. Dwarf in the flask is artificiality.
An alchemy-made life. An artificial family. An artificial pursuit of knowledge and power, without caring about the journey of self-betterment that comes along with it, without caring to understand alchemy and its place in the world. Not only an artifical physical being, but also artificial emotionally; ripping apart his feelings and personality traits deemed negative to make himself into a “superior” being.
I think it’s also worth noting that yes, purging sins out of himself makes him lose those traits, even feelings. Then, if not greed, if not it all, what is pushing Father to pursue power? Greed said it himself: greed isn’t inherently bad, it’s the act of wanting. Father isn’t spiraling into a mad passion for alchemy, a pursuit of knowledge for innovation, or anything, he pursued his plan because he went through the motions, simply. As his feelings left him, all that stayed was the conviction without reasoning that since it was his plan before, he should see it to the end. Or perhaps it’s the course of action he logically came to. Perhaps alchemical enlightenment was deemed the obvious ultimate goal to have, without being interested in why it is or why it should be. Regardless, he lacks the passion and emotional intelligence to actually see the value in what he is doing, in alchemy, and ultimately that is what is punished.
I want to do a full dissection of the whole homunculus family, but I’m going to touch on some aspects of it here because it’s such an interesting topic to me. Disregarding Lust’s claim that homunculi are all individuals with a full range of emotions for a moment, I want to analyze what their traits mean in the angle that they fundamentally formed a whole all together as Father, or Dwarf in the flask.
The homunculus that is shown to be the most attached to his family members is Gluttony. The homunculus that is shown to be the most attached to relationships, in general, is Greed. Greed and Gluttony are then the homunculi, the traits, that care about people the most. And that makes sense, no? You don’t want to lose things you care about, you want to bathe in their love and their presence, and you want to keep having them for as long as you want, greed and gluttony aren’t unsimilar. Greed is interested in friendship and having companions, in possessing people’s hearts and loyalties, in making new connections and bonding with new faces. Gluttony is more interested in getting more of what he already has, more love in that way he already likes by the person he already loves, like wanting more of the familiar taste of its favorite meal.
Other similar traits are pride and envy, the traits that affect your self-image. The feeling that you are remarkable and great and the feeling of wanting what others have or are, valuing yourself vs comparing yourself to others. By detaching parts of a whole, things get lost; Pride feels wholly superior but is ready to do anything to preserve himself including lowering himself to inferior beings going against his own code, while Envy only covers up his self-hatred and jealousy but would rather end himself before accepting to sully himself with the compassion of someone he looks down upon. Pride makes one value self-preservation, while envy is self-destructive by nature, perhaps. It is interesting that both feel prideful, yet Pride doesn’t reflect the fact that as part of a whole it also felt shame and low self-esteem, otherized, and Envy doesn’t reflect that Dwarf actually feels pride over traits they possess, as well.
The truth is that these things coexisted in the one being that was Dwarf. Fragmented as they are, they only tell an uncomplete and incoherent story, like a puzzle. It’s ironic that maybe together, all these sins balance each other out to become healthier, less dysfunctional. Like a family, they can offer counterbalance to a trait when it becomes too central to the individual, offer support through their grounding presence. Someone slothful may feel unmotivated without greed to give them goals, pride without envy will make you stop striving to better yourself and envy without pride will give you self-loathing.
An analysis of Dwarf isn’t complicated to do: it was a being brought about by scholars and complex alchemy, enslaved, and it wished to get the power to free itself and become an individual equal/superior to everyone else. Unable to become physically and fundamentally human, he attempted to become a proxy, close enough to it; making a family, gaining a human form, etc. It ultimately wished to pursue superiority through alchemical power and knowledge when he found the result lacking, when it still didn’t feel human, couldn’t connect with others, still felt fundamentally different, like his place in the universe was somewhere else, like striving for that higher calling would solve it. Blinded by lust to find belonging, wether it be in a place or in a role, it pushed itself to extremes of alchemy in the hope it will all make sense once he gets there. Ultimately futile, as he will end up feeling betrayed and abandoned by Truth itself, not able to rise up to its own expectations once more: because there’s no magic able to make one feel whole. He seeked to sculpt himself into a perfect being, one that could be anything and do anything, one that couldn’t be reproached, if not by humans, then the world itself would confirm and showcase his objective superiority for all to see.
Much like with Shou Tucker, this pursuit for knowledge and power is all for external factors, there is no inner fuel for it besides pride, shame, desperate want that was displaced onto alchemy instead of the self-introspection that alchemy promotes and necessitates. Dwarf ended up missing what was right under his nose, and subsequently failed the test of Truth and lost everything. What he was working towards ultimately meant nothing, not to anyone and not even to himself.
Edward was able to face Truth right because he took the time to understand, learned to not abuse it, reflected on what it all meant, on the place of things in the universe. That is terrifying for Dwarf, who is terrified he may simply have no place in it, but it is nonetheless essential. The other homunculi are proof enough: Greed had friends, was accepted in the friend group of our heroes as a trustworthy and dependable person, Ling would have preferred him to stay with him forever instead of leaving. Selim gets a second chance at life with someone who has loved him with all her heart… Which is the most confusing part of FMA I have no idea how he didn’t die ngl but I’m glad for the precious lil guy~ Even Lust and Gluttony found companionship and care in being together.
Dwarf has always had a place. He simply refused to philosophizes, and alchemists are ultimately philosophers. Not thinking power through, not analyzing it, is what leads to corrupt military states.
Dwarf wanted to be recognized and accepted by god and the world itself, by showing himself worthy of it and demanding it, but he was the one who rejected the nature of the world first:
One is all, all is one.
He is the very embodiment of refusing that. Dwarf always had a place in the world, artificial anomaly as he was. Perhaps Dwarf wasn’t meant to be part of this all or this one initially, not created by the world, but. Dwarf seeked to become both all and none at once. He was born artificial, but never cared to learn the rules of nature and accept the limits of the world, seeking to destroy and warp them; he was the one that desired to make himself even more distinct from the world and label himself as a perfect, artificial being.
Rejecting individuality to become some empty looking glass was the mistake Edward Elric didn’t make, growing to find the value in every type of life and finding the strength to keep going through every horror of the world. Dwarf’s folly was thinking that he was separate from the rest of existence.
The philosophical dimension to the value of gold or philosopher’s stones are the important part of alchemy, power isn’t what you achieve enlightenment through. May your pursuit of knowledge be wise and your resolve aim true.
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I recommend this analysis by another tumblr user as complementary reading!! It goes over way more than I did and encompasses more of fma than this post, I just wanted to focus on a fraction of the themes and narrative that I found summed up the story’s key points well… Idk idk I’m a humble Dwarf enjoyer I don’t want to come across as pretentious 🙇 I can only hope this was a nice read. If you don’t remember the ending of the manga/brotherhood well I imagine this being very confusing, I should do something about that
#fullmetal alchemist#fmab#i might spice this post with screenshots and pics one day#dwarf in the flask#father fma#edward elric#Analysis#Homunculi fma#Envy fma#Pride fma#gluttony fma#greed fma#The lesson of Pride & Envy: If you only have Pride you’ll only remember that you love yourself#But you need Envy too to remind you that you… Hate others and yourself…?#Jkjk envy in a way represents humility when in a not so extreme condensed form but I found that funny#Spoilers#fma spoilers#It isn’t to say that Dwarf’s fragmenting is all bad though like we see with Greed.#As much as traits may balance each other out and as much as the homunculi clashed together sometimes in ways that impeded their progress#we saw how unhealthy of an individual dwarf in the flask already was before splitting itself.#With Greed we see that a tiny part of this all that’s itself part of a bigger all aka the world#can still be part of it and do the bettering and thinking needed to become someone with values#character analysis#Me watching Dwarf absorb god and tearing up bc it’s so tragic that he was fueled by a desperate want to belong and prove himself and#Bitterness and a sense of superiority#Tfw u a lil science experiment made by scholars who thinks that it is through research and pursuit of scientific and academic knowledge onl#That u can achieve anything completely missing the emotional or ethical dimension… Or like u know. Just like. Wondering if it’ll make u#Actually happy#What if trying to bring himself closer to smth like a human was just bc all the alchemical research and results are made by humans so he#Thinks it’ll up his chance bc the method was already tailored and scientific method and whatnot…
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Regarding your petition for hcs.. bc I can't sleep, my personal hcs
Randy: After defeating the sorcerer the Nomicon calling him the "Last Ninja" He is the last one in the chain (making reference to the symbol in his shirt)
(A little non sense considering the 9 chapter thingy but ok)
He constantly forgets to covers up bruises and no one thinks anything weird because he has the fame of being kind-of adventurous (and stupid)
He makes up stories when someone asks him about them and recycles them. Sometimes when someone points out they already heard that, he convinces them into thinking they did not (art of manipulation nomicon lesson when)
His notebooks are full of doodles and drawings of lessons the nomicons gives him, and they're messy af
Has scars from fights that didn't end to well
He knows Japanese thanks to the Nomicon
He settled for having only one friend so his social skills are terrible.
Messy guy overall
Howard: Knows facts about everything, but not to the point of being an expert.
Knows how to read people (body language and expressions) ESPECIALLY Randy, he knows every habit of his, he knows him pretty well.
Has lots of "proyects" started none of them finished.
Has a scar on his back from the thengu incident (representing the wings)
He is never alone, let it be with his family or with Randy but he always has someone beside him, that's one of the reasons why he's has issues with being alone (it's weird for him) he feels bad when Randy tells him it's not a big deal (Randy's absent parents hc sorry for this)
Theresa: lots of friend groups but she doesn't feel like she belongs anywhere
Baby bat (interested in goth)
YES TYTYTY sorry for the slow response but okok here we go
I also kind of thought of him as the last ninja (lowkey disregarding secrets of the nine💀) but I got a different ask with some really interesting points so I’m kinda torn lol
Scars-having Randy is soso real to me. Also YES about him forgetting what he said and gaslighting people. That boy has so much brain damage I know it KNFHD
Him keeping a notebook full of the doodle lessons from the nomicon is sooooo good. Also him learning Japanese from it????? 10/10. I hc him as part Japanese but I don’t think he was taught any growing up (true wasian experience tbh) and I think he was really happy to learn
Howard is suchhhh a socialite but nobody ever talks about it??? He makes friends so easily (even if he doesn’t like them) and is super well received in crowd situations. I’ll write up a seperate post about that soon I think lmao. Anyway I love that Randy is the socially awkward one of the two. I think he would never make any other friends if Howard didn’t introduce him lmao
Smart Howard is so dear to me and I think he’s definitely the type of guy to know at least surface level about literally everything. Like that one Dan Vs clip about knowing who carved Mt Rushmore but not what state it’s in
I have a Whole Thing about Tengu Howard that I’ll write up/draw soon and the wing scars are going in immediately. I think I’m just a sucker for those scars specifically I’ll never turn them down on anyone
Yes you’re so correct about his isolation issues being purely from circumstance. I think he has a huuuuge family so he’s never really by himself but Randy is an only child with only child parents so he’s Always alone when he’s not with Howard. Absent Cunningham parent are real to me - would love for them not to be but he gets away with so much shit there’s no way they pay that much attention
I’m not really a big Theresa fan in general (she’s just a little boring imo but I know they would have developed her more if they had the time to :,( )but her being a baby bat is so good. I think Julian shows her his music and they share cassettes (they’re edgy like that). I think also I just want to see the members of the Klub interact more
#wow this is so fucking giant oops#thank you for this beautiful ask#rc9gn#randy cunningham 9th grade ninja
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One Piece-Chapter Round-Up(Chapter 1089)
Heyo friends! I am back with another One Piece Chapter Round-Up below the cut, but before we get into spoiler territory, I just want to point out this absolutely hilarious cover page. At first I didn't even notice Sanji behind her in the window but I love these layers Oda adds on to the simple request of Nami being served milk. Since she's being served a drink it makes sense the cook is in charge of it and since it's Sanji there's no way he doesn't use that opportunity to be... himself. And funnier still is that since the fact the paper is facing away from him he'll be waiting eagerly only to be rejected. One thing I might be reading into a little too much is Nami's quill, which looks like a skypeian wing hanging off her shoulder. Foreshadowing perhaps?(Look I have a contractual obligation to be absolutely unhinged at least once per round-up) Anyways, moving on, let's talk about the chapter below.
Obviously I want to freak out about that last panel, but there's something really interesting going on with this chapter before that. I don't know if it's because I have been recently reminiscing over Coby and the time he tried to stop the Marineford War, but I have honed in on the idea Oda presents of The Marines' absolute disregard for life and their acceptance of collateral damage. It was a shock to see it doubled down on in a new chapter just mere days after watching a clip of that moment from Marineford.
With this being tumblr and the overwhelming majority of us being left leaning, I feel quite comfortable in discussing politics as mine are also left wing. Very heavily so. But I preface it with that fact so that you understand that some of my personal biases may play a role in my interpretations. Obviously, Oda and Japan's cultures are vastly different from those that I was raised up in so I am only speaking from a very surface level understanding and not the lived one Oda writes from. I have a very ACAB and abolish the police mentality and from my obviously biased point of view, it seems so does Oda.
But it's not just policing that Oda emphasizes. It's any system of power. But he looks at it through the lens of policing because they make the most natural enemy of lawbreaking pirates. Also just like the popular idea of the Death Note representing Japan's harsh police system, the Marines also appear to be an allusion to it. I am really curious about which way Oda went about creating the Marines and their relationship to pirates. There was an idea of a distinction between pirates called Peace Mains and Morganeers in the two one shots of Romance Dawn where Morganeers were the pillaging type of pirates whilst Peace Mains preyed on the Morganeers like vigilantes and adventured as well. Obviously that put Peace Mains in a sort of policing position so it's really curious how we ended up with the Marines being the big bad(other than Blackbeard of course).
In a tangent before we get back to the Marines, it's really interesting what carried over from the one shots, what didn't and what could. It had been a while since I revisited them but one thing I realized because of Crescent Moon Gyari is that Whitebeard's Beard looks like a crescent moon, basically symbolizing the moon before the dawn that is Luffy. Sorry if that was obvious, I'd just never made that connection before. The more interesting things to me are what might still carry over. Particularly from the second one shot where the Nami stand in, Ann, a blue haired girl with a pet bird is featured. Ann obviously also shares similarities with Vivi and Karoo but the idea of the Roc being a bird who's blood can cure diseases got my attention. That coupled with the Big Egg on the Oro Jackson and Choppers dream makes me think this could make a appearance once again. Also interesting was the fact that one of Luffy's moves was called Moon Shot and the idea of flying was presented over and over again. And Nami was also the child of Pirates. Wonder if that'll ever come into play. Another thing that was quite apparent was the imagery that really made an impact and crossed over to the final version. Honestly, I'd love to examine the two one shots in relation to the real story one day if someone hasn't already.
Okay tangent over, back to the main topic. Which is, first of all, Oda's take on the Marines. There's two things at work here. One is Oda's take on the Marines as an organization through Imu's actions. One that does not care about the collateral damage as long as their power in ensured. And the other is institutions of power perpetuating their power through terrorizing life and the environment it lives on. They're kind of the same idea but one directly criticizes policing while the other criticizes any position of power. We'll focus on the first idea and then talk about how it connects to the second.
The idea has been hammered into us over and over again. The Marines exist to further themselves. It's the absolute and peak function of institutions of power. And also very antithetical to the idea of dreams, which terminate once you reach them. Each of our Strawhats have a dream that has an end goal. But as a result of this goal of self perpetuation, the Marines often overlook their secondary goal of keeping the peace. This idea started as early as Axe-Hand Morgans but gets properly implemented in Arlong Park where the Marines look away as they get paid. Arlong doesn't disturb them and they benefit by having him essentially be an agent for them. That's how you know peacekeeping is a secondary goal. It's secondary to the idea of the Marine's keeping power. Oda criticizes privateering and the warlord system through this hypocrisy.
And if this was just one instance then it could be seen as just one bad egg. Like policing so often wants to put out. But a system of power relies on the methods they use to stay in power always staying relevant. And that's when we come to Marineford, skipping over a lot of incredibly relevant examples to this argument like Enies Lobby. I feel like ya'll can follow that tangent yourselves. Ohara, knowledge that would invalidate their power, etc, etc. I would go more into it but I don't want to write so much away from the current chapter and the fact is that Marineford appears to deal with my criticisms.
So how does Marineford appear to address the criticism of self preservation and perpetuation? (And this next statement is me playing Devil's Advocate if it's not apparent) If the Marines cared about preserving themselves, why would they seek to end the age of piracy if the function that keeps them in power is dealing with Pirates?
Because, my devil's advocate self (wow, thank you for the softball Roy(no problem, Roy)), Marineford was an attempt by the Marines to depose Pirates and crown themselves the key power in the One Piece world. Oda did the math for us, the three great powers used to be the Four Yonkou's, The Marines, and the Seven Warlords. Do the math there and the Pirates come out on top. Also Oda cleverly states the strength of freedom by showing how strong these scattered, unaffiliated, and free people are by having the Marines, a wholly organized military force, be only a third of the equation instead of dominating. Oda follows George Lucas's lead on the idea of Rebels and Vietnam. So, Marineford wasn't just an attempt to put an end to the age of pirates, it was also an attempt to declare the Age of the Marines. And they did the math too, regardless of what happened, they would come out on top. Whether they declared their age or the pirate age kept going, they would still be needed. As Billy Butcher once said, "Fucking Diabolical". Why Koby was so important to the narrative of the War was because he let you see the true colours of the Marines. One that did not care about collateral damage as long as they stayed in power. They sacrificed so many lives needlessly for that reason. And they might have possibly ended the pirate age if not for Whitebeard.
So all of that just to get to this chapter. Sorry for the long ride, but thank you for sticking with me. This chapter horrifically signifies the Marine's policy, by way of Imu, of collateral damage through very familiar sights of rising sea levels. I will speak to the real world connections soon. But these scenes of climate devastation show how uncaring the Marines are to the suffering of their subjects. And Subjects they are. Some people say One Piece is pro monarchy but Oda positions the Marines, even clearer now with Imu, as Monarchs, and criticizes them. Oda isn't pro monarchy, he's showing us how these instituions of power supplanted the previous institutions. And while people suffer, the Marines launch yet another offensive to keep ahold of their power. It's blatant at this point. Where they could be helping people, they gather one of the biggest forces they have since Marineford and try to stop the release of information that could weaken their hold.
And the scenes of Climate Devastation precede an even more horrific sight. Not one of collateral damage. Not of the uncaring nature. But of the direct cost of keeping their power. The sunken island kingdom of Lulusia. It's terrifying and it ties the collateral damage to the cost directly. It's Oda's way of pointing out that the consequences of their actions and the actions they take to stay in power don't affect them, but their subjects, the people they purport to protect.
All of this is why I am so interested in the conclusion Oda reaches in terms of the Marines. It's the reason I support the Ancient Kingdom being a nation of Pirates, it supports the idea of dissolution of the Marines. Oda is clearly setting up Koby and the rest of his peers as the next generation of the Marines but up until Koby became the clear front runner of the Marines, I always thought the Marines were meant to dissolve. But Oda seems to be setting them up to reform in a new direction. There's not a lot I disagree with Oda on but this might be one. Either way though, I will appreciate the nuanced take that Oda so often hides under layers of shounen action.
But now to get to the real world implications. The whole situation with Imu is such a startling reflection of our own world. Again my politics come into play here. The Marines and the Twenty Kingdoms purport to be equal and not ruled under anyone but it's revealed that all along Imu has ruled them. Which would be a stark contrast to our largely democratic nations, right? But then Oda uses the visual metaphor of climate change and his point is clear. While policing exists to self perpetuate, it also answers to the beck and call of billionaires and corporations. I'm sure the statistic of 100 companies being responsible for 71% of global emissions is a statistic you've heard before dear reader. The governments bend over backwards to lobbying from these corporations while the police enforce it on the base level. On a visceral and violent level. We never left the monarchy, we just got new rulers.
Oh no! I've revealed my personal politics. Ahh! But in all honesty, this is my blog and I want to be able to talk freely here so I'll say what's on my mind. I'll always try to be upfront when my biases show though. The reason I am so explicit about my political opinions is because a lot of people who talk about One Piece don't engage with the deeply political and radical ideas it has. And as a result, you get a neutered audience and a neutered discussion. Anyways, that was my very long and convoluted idea on Oda's representation of policing and related politics, especially in relation to this chapter. Now onto a breakdown of the actual chapter.
So right away we see an interesting sight. Morgans has already positioned Luffy as the main character of this conflict. And as we later find out, the Marines approve. Knowing that this will be a much talked about event sheds a really interesting light on this. One, Morgans has made Luffy undeniable in the media in regards to whatever happens next. Two, something big is going to happen. Three, the Marines will probably want to disavow it. Four, Luffy's presence is going to have the opposite effect and solidify this event as if he wasn't presented in such a central light, the Marines would've been able to sweep it under the rug easier. Also while a lot of that is speculation, one more reaching bit of speculation I want to put forward is that whatever happens next is going to invalidate Lulusia's disappearance. Some major truth is going to be revealed and it's going to show how unnecessary these sacrifices that the Marines make are. This also only furthers my interest in Morgans. Who is he? What's his play? What are his goals and is he playing a game with the Marines? It seems he regularly withholds information but eventually plays it in an acceptable manner to the Marines. My take is that he's possibly a revolutionary who's doing his best to sway the tide in their favour. If you look at a lot of his moves, it suggests they're highly calculated for maximum effect under the Marines rule while also shifting the discussion more in favour to the Revolutionary's and their causes and setting up for future dissemination of information he's currently withholding. Or it could be entirely posible I am giving him too much credit. Next, Makino calling Luffy her baby's big brother. Another clue to deadbeat dad Shanks theory? Don't mind me here, just watering my pet theories.
But next, as I mentioned before, we see the consequences of the Marine's actions. From the apparently mundane but heartbreaking in Kamabakka, to the loss of life through tsunami's and the loss of homes on other islands. It's horrific and centers on the very real horror of Climate Change. But the sea levels rising a meter is also horrific in another way. Just to show how much water has been displaced, it's almost five times as much as the sea level has risen over the past 100 years in the real world. I think I dove a lot into the real world side of things so I do want to indulge in the One Piece world for a bit.
So first off, the connection to Enies Lobby is completely apparent. Enies Lobby has some connection to the Mother Flame and perhaps the Ancient Kingdom being there holds some weight? I think another thing that is interesting is that the water was displaced. Somehow the Mother Flame doesn't just create a hole, but an entire Void where the water can't take the space of. Something something Void century, the theory's not fully there yet. But what it also suggests is that maybe Lulusia isn't completely gone? Perhaps it's been sent to Davy Jone's Locker? There's so many pieces of evidence floating around that I'm sure I'm missing something or overlooking a key piece that ties everything together, because right now this feels like a major hint to the true nature of the world. Also this could be a key factor in One Piece's unique world, like the Calm Belt and the Red Line. Also one interesting line is, "had no parallel in recorded history." But perhaps the Void Century? Speculation abounds! But maybe I'll have a concrete theory in the coming days, who knows. The Truth is Out There. No, but really, I feel like one or a few of those massively popular and some not so popular theories are somewhere close to the mark. Like the One Piece being a log book or the destruction of the Red Line. There's so much that's valid that I can see it all happening.
Another heartbreaking scene plays out a little bit after we see the Marine's massive fleet, with a small flashback to Vegapunk, Sentomaru and Kizaru all looking much younger and happier. Kizaru is such an interesting character. He apparently has Unclear Justice but in everything he does it's hard to understand what that actually means. Nature of the word I guess? But Aokiji was Lazy Justice, and that can be seen in that he seems to be taking the easy way out by falling in with Blackbeard but what does that mean for Kizaru? He seems happy in the past and now he is very much uncaring. He mentions he's a cog in the machine but there seems to be some wiggle room. Perhaps unlike his previous two comrades, Akainu and Aokiji, Kizaru is the only one who can change? Honestly I don't really have a bead on him. But I am fascinated. Like with many things.
After that we get a recap and two key moments. The moment where Jay Garcia tells them to sink the escaping scientists is quite obvious and a parallel to Ohara and I think we've talked enough about direct actions, consequences, and collateral damage to get a rough gist of where that would go in reinforcing the themes Oda has set up in regards to the Marines. But the smaller moment of Jay Garcia remarking he likes what Morgans wrote is also key. The Marines hold some sway over the media, from withholding key information to actively enforcing violence but this is also an insight into how Morgans plays the game. He pacifies them but he also pushes his own agenda. A free media is key to citizens freedoms so it's really interesting how these two entities push and pull. I hope we get more insight into Morgans to see what Oda is actually trying to say because I'm curious.
And now we finally get to the last few pages. York is at times terrifying and at others painfully stupid. Just my type of character. She reminds me a lot of Buggy, who first started off as terrifying before becoming our lovable clown boy. But this makes me want York in the crew so bad. I would love if Vegapunk and all of his satellites joined because it would be such an interesting dynamic. The Come Save me panel is also quite a hilarious inversion of "I want to Live" from Enies Lobby as York is asking the Marines for help this time. I love her confident blustering. It's peak One Piece. It's peak Oda. I love it so much.
AND THEN FINALLY!!! OMFG THEY LOOK SO FUCKING COOL!!! I lost it so hard here. They're back and they look so badass! They look like a proper yonkou crew. This cutaway also hammers home how close we are getting to the end as Oda is skipping over some big fights. What this flash forward does let Oda do is that he can use it to do a small flashback chapter and recap key skipped over elements instead of going through them at a much slower pace in chronological order.
One final thing. All the strawhats look so cool, but a really surprising thing I noticed was that Ussop was holding the phone where I would assume Sanji would be. It feels like Sanji has shed a lot of the baggage that came with being Mr.Prince after Whole Cake Island and Wano. Now he's enjoying himself in the background. This could also be setting up the central role Ussop is going to be taking in Elbaf. Ussop of course has employed trickery before but just in this particular case with it's callbacks to Enies Lobby, I would've assumed Sanji be the one pulling off this ruse. Anyways, that's all for today folks. If you've read this far, thank you so much for sticking through. I really appreciate it! See ya for the next one! (Gonna slink off now to watch 1071).
#one piece#one piece chapter 1089#one piece 1089#op 1089#one piece manga#manga recap#manga discussion#one piece spoilers#op koby#eiichiro oda
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I know you love The dragon prince and that’s great. I binged the show after season three released. I listened to podcasts about the show . I listened to yours and felt really happy when I found people who also liked the show. Unfortunately I fell of during the hiatus between season three and four. I am patient person but three years was long. Also I watched the show for rallylum and through the moon just kind killed my love for them.Then I found your blog and was really happy. Then I saw how you felt about the owl house and it bothered me. As a neurodivergent person the show made me feel really seen. I know it’s stupid to be upset about an opinion. As a person who wants to be an English major how do find parallels between relationships and characters. You talk about certain ones and I don’t see them at all. Your probably more seasoned as a writer than I am so
Ps : sorry this is long and hope tdp ends well in your opinion
Few things:
1) I'm also neurodivergent (hi!) - specifically Autistic - and I have also largely wanted to be understood my whole life, much like Luz (according to S3). While a show making you feel seen can certainly be wonderful, meaningful, and sometimes even life changing, to me that's not enough to make it a Good (per my subjective tastes) Show. That's not to say TOH is a bad show - far from it - but it's one that didn't appeal to my particular tastes due to 1) too many characters and not enough screentime, 2) a lack of theme (which many kids shows don't have a ton of because they're, y'know, for kids), and 3) all of the characters have very black and white morality, and that's just less interesting to me.
Being upset about opinions is very natural, and it's not stupid, but it is also important to acknowledge that 1) you can't control how anyone else feels or interprets things and 2) no one else can control how you feel or interpret things.
2) I adored Through the Moon. Rayla's tendency to leave (and why) is always a hurdle I expected them to have to tackle at one point, and given that it's her main character flaw, I'm really excited and happy with the way it's been handled so far and how TTM kicked it off. The graphic novel also really resonated with me in Callum's place, as I too have loved many of my loved ones through incredibly difficult periods regarding their mental health, and the graphic novel felt very honest about the toll that can take on both parties in different ways, and how love/support can help, but ultimately isn't enough if the person isn't ready (or willing) to start trying to get better. It's not an easy pill to swallow, but it is a realistic and important one and I've enjoyed how the show has continued that storyline with Rayla (and Callum) into S4 and S5
3) Being an English major is not for everyone! I know many people who love to read and who are very good writers where an English degree would not suit them at all. It's a lot of reading (by my final year, there were some weeks where I was reading an entire 400 page book roughly every week, if not multiple at the same time). It is also a lot of writing (and my professors regularly chewed me out for my grammar). You also tend to kind of double being a history major as depending on what you're reading, you learn a lot of the religious/historical/cultural context in order to understand the language, references, and messaging intended by the author (and then whether or how much to disregard it, lmao). Being able to analyze — to see connections between characters and themes in particular, but other forms of symbolism and messaging — quickly is probably the main thing that saved my ass and let me stay on Honour Roll throughout my undergrad.
I have also been writing pretty seriously for a long time (I 'started' at age 10 but only really count age 12 onwards, cause that's when I first started writing 70k+ drafts every 1-2 years for original WIP stuff). A lot of what makes a good writer is being a good reader, taking your favourite stories (books or otherwise — movies, musicals, tv shows, etc can be gold mines) and figuring out what works in them and why, or why you like them (or don't like them), etc.
For example: The Owl House is a primarily character driven > plot driven story. In book form, it'd likely be Middle Grade to early YA. It's interested in character relationships among the main cast (any of the more villainous characters like Belos are never given the same amount of development or screentime) and some mild worldbuilding. It has some social commentary (mostly on the school systems through Luz and mental health through Eda) and an overall theme of "being different is good," breaking away from abusive systems/dynamics, and the importance of solidarity.
If I compare and contrast this to TDP, The Dragon Prince is far driven in equal parts by the plot (because it's wholly serialized) and by character. It is also very thematically driven — most notably how to break intergenerational cycles of trauma and violence, but also self-destructive tendencies, abuse, responsibility, power, grief, and concepts of justice and punishment. This is also reflected in the fact numerous villainous characters (Viren, Claudia, etc.) share close to equal screentime with the 'good guy' protagonists and heavily explores morality across a decently wide spectrum. It thereby has a more mature tone in its subject matter and would easily be YA in book form.
Which is to say: the best way to get better at analyzing is to break characters down to their basic plot structures (Character A does this, they want that, Character B does this, they want that, etc.) and see what pops up (for example, in Avatar The Last Airbender, Aang and Zuko both cannot go home, and duel Ozai when they're 13 years old, ultimately refusing to be violent against their opponent). You can also look at similar personality traits (curiosity, selflessness, carelessness, etc). Practice looking at the stories you love and figuring out what works and doesn't work for you personally — and then go beyond relatability to look more at subtext and symbols. Some of the best things I've ever read were books that had nothing relatable to my personal experiences in them (like The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini), and that was why I loved them because they got to broaden my horizons.
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Is Daemon in love with Rhaenyra or just using her? Why did he not go all the way with her in episode 4? Was it just guilt over using her or was there something more?
He IS in love and he IS using her. She's a way to get closer to the throne, and Daemon doesn't mind exploiting that, plus he wants to be Aegon the Conqueror and to him that includes marrying "in the tradition of their house" aka an incestuos marriage, and naturally the first choice for someone that arrogant is the princess/future queen.
But their genuine bond cannot just be ignored. Daemon is clearly attracted to her, and he tends to be less of a dick to her than he is to everyone else (still awful by the standards of any reasonable person, but it counts, and luckly for him Rhaenyra can be a bit unhinged too).
He gives her a necklace made of the steal of his sword as symbol of their shared heritage, comforts her during her mother's funeral, stops trying to act all threatening when she calls his bluff in episode 2, shows her the harsh truth that plenty of people STILL see Aegon II as the true heir despite Viserys choosing her (can also count as him trying to undermine her confidence, so it's both "tough love" AND "you're worthless, feel bad and sleep with me") and he listens to her about her fears regarding marriage/sex/pregnancy and full on encourages her to just do whatever the fuck she pleases (though this one also counts as him using her since he did to try to force Viserys to accept them gettting married, aka Daemon getting to at least be king consort).
He accepts to be part of a (fake) murder plot so she'll be rid of her husband and then marry her so her claim to the throne will be more solid (again, counts as both selflessness and selfishness), they are VERY physically affectionate during their marriage, he is clearly super happy when she's pregnant with yet another child of his (and in a deleted scene he mourns said child after the miscarriage/stillbirth), baits Vaemond Velaryon into calling her a whore in front of Viserys so he has an excuse to cut his head off in front of everyone and thus assuring Rhaenyra's son will get Driftmark despite being a bastard, and he is being very gentle when letting her know of Lucerys's death - that last one is important as it happens in episode 10, aka the one in which he treats her worse than ever.
For fuck's sake, they're CONSTANTLY speaking high valyrian to each other as that is the show's very deliberate way of setting their conversations with each other apart from the ones they have with everyone else.
Even when he was happily married with Laena, a wife he CHOSE because they had genuine chemistry and affection for each other, he was still thinking of Rhaenyra constantly, being aware of everything that was going on in her life even from afar.
As for him not going all the way with Rhaenyra in episode 4, I believe that happened for two reasons:
1 - Daemon wasn't as fully in control of that situation as he thought he'd be. He WANTED to have sex with her, sure, but he is an arrogant, volatile guy, and Rhaenyra, despite being a virgin, was not at all acting shy, scared or even hesitant. She wasn't letting him fully take charge, turning around to face him, toy with him after he had just pressed her against the wall, her back turned to him.
Denying her suddenly, without explanation, and just leaving her there by herself, was a way to take back control - especially since this whole thing was also about making Rhaenyra get caught with him, and that had already happened, so he already "got what he wanted from her" but she didn't get the same from him. He IS still a potential candidate for the throne, so disgracing the princess AND disregarding her once her reputation is in the dirt, but his isn't because rules are different for men, is a way to prove, either to her or to himself, that he holds more power in their relationship and always will.
2 - Guilt. Daemon KNOWS what he is doing is not right. He knows Rhaenyra is very young, he knows he's manipulating her, he knows he is using and exposing her, and he knows that's an awful thing to do to his own dear niece, the daughter of the king and brother he does sincerely love (in his own way). That's why he isn't gloating like a villain after his evil plan was a success, but is instead looking all miserable and drinking all night - he is WILLING to be an utter bastard to get what he wants, but that doesn't mean it doesn't take a toll on him.
Not going all the way with Rhaenyra gives her the chance to have a "proper" first time, with her husband (be it Daemon himself or not) instead of in a brothel, in front of a bunch of people, with a married man. It lets her still keep ver "virtue" even if nobody else will believe she's still a virgin.
It's also why he leaves once she's married. Now that his one path to become king no longer exists, he isn't caught up between what he wants and what's right, as leaving Rhaenyra the fuck alone is the only option - and Daemon himself confirms in episode 7 that he did genuinely believe his niece would be better off without him, even though she clearly disagrees (and they both have VERY good reasons to feel the way they do).
So yeah, Daemon is one hell of a complicated character, and even when he is being awful, that doesn't mean he isn't also showing some humanity - and vice versa.
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Postmistress
There isn’t much to gossip about in a town as small as Branchburg, but there are two consistent points of discussion amongst all of the town. Those are: What’s up with the Librarian, and how old do you think the postmistress is?
The most conservative of estimates will usually put the postmistress’ age around 70-80, because parents will tell stories of sending letters to Santa through her. She hates being in photos, but there is one, hung on the wall of the sweet bone’s tavern with a date, the only concrete date you’ll find regarding her from around 40 years ago the date reads 1876, and comparing her to this photo, you’ll find she looks the exact same. This conservative guess is disliked amongst the town, because it is boring and also almost certainly not true. She just simply knows too much to be only 80 years old.
Disregarding that, people tend to put her at the founding of the town, around 220 years ago. Sure, this would make her spooky but not improbable. The tenth librarian is at least this old and she still comes around treating the postmistress as an old friend. There is other evidence besides an acquaintance of course. She gets the names of some places around the town wrong, but if you go looking in the records, you will find these are just the old names for the places currently standing. She speaks of people long forgotten, but looking back in the lineage you will no doubt find the people she was discussing. On one particularly odd occurrence, she described a cemetery that never existed, until a few very bored teenagers dug 6 feet below the area she described and found bodies in what looked to be very old coffins. No one in the town had any record of this cemetery that the Earth seemed to have claimed.
Others in the town claim she is older than the settlement of Branchburg, and estimate her around 500 years old. They claim she was once a priestess for the Sisterhood of the Knot. Their main evidence for this is that she speaks of the Sisterhood with a familiarity few outside of their ranks possess. She slips only once every decade or so, telling of stories or facts no one in a good 300 years have heard. Some even claim to have seen a tattoo of the triple knot on her arm, though there is no proof to this claim.
The librarian had a far different theory, however. They never shared it with the townspeople because the postmistress was not someone that they wanted to be on the bad side of. The librarian started to investigate this back when they got a glimpse of the postmistress’s uncovered torso while she was reaching high upon a shelf for an item. There were scales. Scales imply non-humanity, or at least not our humanity. So, the librarian got to digging. They asked for Rowena to tell them anything, yet the old woman remained silent, only stating that Rowena has known her “practically all her life.” Already, this placed the librarian estimates for her age at around 1300 years old. But then they met with Medusa. Medusa also remained furiously tightlipped but called the postmistress “sister” and later mentioned absently that she’s not sure “she remembers her name anymore”. For a final test, the librarian spoke to the postmistress in the language of the earth, of the Cross and their descendants. The postmistress responded fluently; with an accent the librarian was quite sure no person could replicate. The librarian had wandered home, and wrote a single note down “final guess: older than humanity, likely witnessed the birth of the Gods from Blood. I don’t think that was a knot tattoo they saw on her arm. To me, it is far more likely the symbol of the one the Grail supplanted.” The librarian dropped the topic after this, and if the postmistress noticed the librarian avoiding her all of a sudden, she made no comment on the behavior.
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The Color Blue: I love it and may read too much into it
Earlier, I was at work doing, you know, working-like things and my mind decided to flash to this scene:
I watched Season Two, Episode Eight (Bolognese) and Episode Nine (Omelette) again and questions. Many fantastic folks have shared commentaries and metas about the imagery, the symbolism, the soundtrack, the cinematography - everything!(@thoughtfulchaos773, @unladyboss, @gingerylangylang1979 are just the few that hit. I'm sorry if I missed anyone. I'm sure I did. This fandom is too creative and intuitive for me to keep up with!)
And my okey-doke foolish self is wondering: "okay but why am I seeing this image of Sydney changing in the same dim, dark blue sexy lighting as Carmy being intimate with Claire?"
(Side note: DAMN that opening intimate scene in Omelette got me into and applauding Carmen. Get your sensuality on!!!!)
This above scene was sliced in with Carmy making dinner for Claire in episode eight. Then, as I said, the next episode opens with the mood lighting. Like...huh? I mean, really? These two women, similar lighting, personal moments? What is happening?
But then we are cut to Carmen's panic attack. The world we are shown is in cooler blue tones as he's zoomed in on i that back alley.
Those in the flashbacks that are in warmer colors/tones are taunting, patronizing, and disregarding of Carmen.
Throughout all of this, when Carmen is cut back to in cooler hues, who else do we see filmed in such a light? Sydney.
To cap it all off, the immediate scene after Carmen settles and smiles is of Sydney approaching the almost completed Bear, her saturation (is that a term? is that a film term thing or am i making words up to sound smart-ish?) is in the same paler, calmer blue.
We also see this blue hue in the BOH during the final episode as Carmen starts spiraling. As he shouts for a re-fire, Sydney holds him accountable and he actually takes a breath. He stops, sees her, and apologizes. He tried to manage his emotions.
(I couldn't find the gif or such where you see Sydney telling him to cool it out before he actually listens to her. If anyone can send me that, I'd appreciate it!)
I tried to be more aware while watching this episode in particular and I noticed that, when Carmy is trapped in his own making - I mean trapped in the walk-in, he's filmed in a clear blue tone.
To my untrained eye, in this picture, the deeper blue transitioning into something lighter is significant. Is this a way to show intimacy? To show Carmen connecting back with his personal like? Him finding a way to process it? HECK! This color scheme showed itself when he met Claire in the grocery store. Does this color palette represent Carmen being faced with having a personal life? To be around others who want to see him can be daunting yet muted and depressing.
Too many thoughts I'm trying to express HOURS after my original thought all the while fighting off going to sleep.
To wrap this whole thing up on a random note, this song from way back in my high school emo days came to mind. I seems to fit our boy Carmen.
youtube
Goodnight.
#the bear#the bear fx#the bear hulu#sydney adamu#carmy berzatto#syd x carmy#blue#that's the whole thing you know the color blue I like it and so does the bear#I don't know what's happening other than too many things that i've probably talked about before but well here I am again#a song from my emo high school days seems to fit carmen berzatto a bit too well#claire the bear
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I have. SO many thoughts about your Spider-Man au. First of all, I don’t know how much or how long you’ve watched slimecicle, but as I long time frequent viewer I can tell you he is DEEPLY unhinged. He makes a fantastic villain whenever he sets his mind to it. Which brings me to my point - you’ve mentioned slime living in fear of his lack of control over venom. I think you could break slimecicle into two pieces - Charlie, his civilian identity, and Slime, his symbiote. Together they make slimecicle. Charlie brings the puns, the humor, and the lightheartedness to their hive mind. Slime brings the violence, the territorialness, the disregard for human life. Combined it means that slimecicle cracks cannibal jokes before he eats people and stalks those he cares about. I think he would be all in on the cannibalism. He’s disturbing not by being scary but by being silly and normal even as he eats people. Becomes obsessed with Spider-Man. Some guy hurts the spider real bad and slimecicle tortures and eats them. I just think he should be demented and unhinged! He offers to eat Juanaflipa’s bullies. When him and Mariana find out each other’s identities and split ways he stalks him to make sure he’s safe. Maybe he even killed someone before the symbiote. He’s a fucked up silly little guy. Take this with a grain of salt if you want these are just my thoughts! I just think he should hive mind and be creepier. And that he’d be into the murder thing.
🐀
Answer got too long so I have to hide it under the cut again whoooooooo also there’s a poll at the end
Charlie definitely gets unhinged but only really after Juanaflippa dies because that’s when he stops holding back Venom/Slime from going on a rampage- as time goes on and his issues remain unaddressed the line between Charlie the human being and Slime the symbiote becomes blurred. Before he’d make more of an effort to “mask” anything out of the ordinary (with varying success) but post-Flippa’s death he rolls with the horror more instead of covering it up, e.g. “That was just a very large dog, don’t worry about it hahaha” vs “yes, I just ate a man- I skipped breakfast, we all do it.”
Charlie indulging in more “monsterous” habits and the symbiote Slime forming genuine human connections with those around it (Mariana & Juanaflippa)! So when Mariana and him “split” after her death, he justifies following him around because he want to keep him out of similar danger, and it’s fine because Venom/Slime is helping. Before he would catch sight of Spider-Man and adore him as a symbolic figure to what Charlie could never amount to, now he follows Mariana out of desperation for losing all he used to have (but simultaneously cannot confront Mariana in person because then he’d have to face a whole other can of issues relating to Juanaflippa’s death).
Charlie definitely considered eating Juanaflippa’s school bullies at one point but never brought it up to her because he was under the impression she didn’t know he was possessed by a man-eating symbiote lmaooo
Also you make a good point of making Charlie creepier! I considered indulging into some body horror when I first started this au but figured that would scare people off so I kinda forgot about it 💀 like “oops I grew a second mouth” and then vomits a skeleton hahaha and how an alien species attaching itself to his body could make him feel like his body isn’t his own anymore but the host of a being out of his control and comfort :)
On a side note he would 100% crack a pun before killing a man (I’m just not good at puns so imagine a really funny one rn) and nom
Accept this doodle as thanks for the brain rot I will continue to think of these dumb idiots whom I love
#ask#anon#rat anon#mcyt#qsmp#qsmp au#slimecicle#juanaflippa#spiderman au#venom!slimecicle#tw vomit mention#body horror#el Mariana#slimeriana#<- in their break-up era
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Thank you for your post. I don’t have a problem with Elvis being portrayed as a flawed person because he was and I don’t agree with everything he did, but I feel like there’s no such thing as nuance in regards to him. Like are we gonna disregard the great story Dionne Warwick told about him helping her sell her most records in Las Vegas because he had a toxic relationship with Priscilla? People are multifaceted and are different towards different people but I feel like with Elvis, he’s just painted as 100% all bad by people. That’s why Baz’s movie and Austin’s performance was such a breath of fresh air. I worry about a portrayal of him that’s mostly negative or unflattering, especially when his relationship with Priscilla already gets people so heated. Today people were pissed Priscilla spoke positively of him and said he never took advantage of her. We can disagree with their ages when the relationship began all we want but if she says he never took advantage of her and does not view herself as a victim, why complain about it?
it's infuriating that online comments refuse to defer to priscilla's OWN voice and perspective and remembrances of him - the fact that people won't recognize that shaming/pitying her and saying she's delusional is so much more misogynistic than listening to and accepting her words and her view of her life! she literally said today, "he was very kind, very soft, very loving" and that he respected her and kept boundaries between them, yet instantly we're inundated with takes about how he was awful and tabloid headlines about sex because that gets them clicks. it's so disrespectful of priscilla along WITH elvis. the refusal to treat him like a whole, multifaceted person with complete lack of context extends to victimizing her against her will.
there are such a great number of stories about how good and generous and thoughtful and supportive he was to others - from fellow artists to strangers on the street - we know those beautiful aspects of him to be true. he WAS flawed and had a temper and made mistakes, i don't agree with everything he did or every choice he made either, and simultaneously also wish he'd had better care around him, but this is because we are willing to see and value him as a complex man, not as only a symbol of whatever role we want to foist upon him.
one thing i will say is i do believe baz's film and austin's portrayal is what will remain in the culture through all of this. a LOT of other flimsy or less meaningful "biopics" have faded, but that one will be remembered and vital, especially given the soul of it being that sensitivity and the power of his music. which isn't me saying this film is worthless or whatever, but it's not going to have the same impact (and isn't meant to). i keep thinking about lisa and how moved and happy she was about the film and austin's embodiment of her father - nothing diminishes that, and it remains true.
some people just want to get on their high horses of judgement and complain, but that's honestly so tiresome and boring to me. finding the humanity of someone and the light to be kept there is so much more fulfilling. the people who are nasty about it, that's their loss. we know what the heart of this is for ourselves.
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