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zeldasnotes · 6 months

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SpOoKy NoTeS 👻

Its spooky time until christmas and everyone knows it. Dont even try to deny it. And you better believe I have some spooky observations for yall. And I advice all sensitive people to not read these. Here is a bottle of formula for yall instead 🍼

⚠️ Achilles(588) shows your weak spot. Working on your achilles will help you so much in life. Because just like with Chiron if you dont work on this weakness people might use this weakness against you.

⚠️ You know that girl your boyfriend always talks shit about? I bet your boyfriends Venus is in that girls 1st house or his planets in her 8th house. I dare you to check.

⚠️ If you have Saturn in the 10th house there is a risk of getting your karma back for stuff you have done very publicly. It might take a while but it will happen. For example Ellen Degeneres.

⚠️ People with Lilith in the 3rd house can say the most cruel things when angry. Sometimes might not even control it and afterwards find themselves wondering what the hell they just said. Can also experience issues with lying especially in their younger years.

⚠️ Lie(26955) conjunct Moon might have had a lot of women make up lies about them. Might be surrounded by women who lie or even a family of habitual liars.

⚠️ Men with Lilith in the 10th house = false assault accusations or snitch accusations. If you are a man with this placement and you are thinking about joining a gang just know there is a 90% chance that if the police catch someone in the gang YOU will be accused of being the one of who snitched.

⚠️ Moon/Pluto women yes women hate on you but you are sneaky yourself and other women pick up on that.

⚠️ The moon really is where we are the most sensitive. Attacking someones moon can really make someone explode. Ive noticed that most times when someone throw a fit in my comments or asks its because of something I wrote about their moon.

⚠️ Fama(408) in Cancer/Conjunct Moon can do ANYTHING and will still be seen as a good mom. They have the ”supermom” image. Trying to expose someone with this placement might fail unless Fama is very afflicted.

⚠️ Someone with Peitho(118) conjunct personal planets can talk people into anything. Peitho was the goddess of persuasion, seduction and charming speech.

⚠️ If you have Moon conjunct Uranus you might have some very ”unique” children so be prepared for shock. Kate Gosselin from Kate plus 8 have this and she first gave birth to twins and then she had sextuplets(!!!!)

⚠️ People with Juno(3) conjunct Fama(408) can be cloutchasers.

⚠️ Moon/Venus harshly aspecting Neptune can idealize women a lot, especially beautiful women. People with these aspects can start copying someone they look up to and if Pluto is involved it can get scary. I know someone with this who would copy every outfit, makeup, behaviour, way of talking & way of walking of another girl in our class.

⚠️ Aquarius Moons sometimes take their need to be unpredictable and unique way too far and might do weird or mean things to show it. They can be just as attention seeking as their sister sign.

⚠️ Lilith in the 7th house people might think they are the controlling one in the relationship but they dont even know half of what their partner is doing behind the scenes. Can also be the opposite tho.

⚠️ If you have Sun conjunct Lilith you probably represent something your dad dislikes about himself. He sees his shadow self in you/the part of himself he denies.

⚠️ Chiron shows stuff you are attacked for. Ascendant = appearance, the way you assert yourself/dont assert yourself. Moon = Your sensitivity, a sensitivity thats very visible to others. Venus = looks, attacked by romantic interests and women. Mars = By men, for not being assertive enough. 9th house=For your background/religion, attacked by students at school. 3rd house = siblings, kids in the neighborhood, early schoolyears.

⚠️ Mars Square Pluto attract people who can feel an obsessive anger towards them or an obsessive need to put them in their place. The kind of people to have others making revenge plans on them. Also masculine energies become obsessed with them.

⚠️ When you have Lilith/Asc people attack like hyenas. With this placement there is a risk of people not showing you empathy, you see sides of people that others dont see because you are a walking threath. This doesnt always mean they hate you, this can be something very subconscious that they dont even are aware of themselves, you just awake a fear in them that they cant explain.

⚠️ A Narcissists worst nightmare is a person with Neptune conjunct personal planets. Narcissists feed on emotional reactions from others and people with Neptune on the Sun or Ascendant dont show emotional reactions because their mind is always focused on having the proper reaction and to read the situation to create their personality around their surroundings. So in a way you will never get a ”real” reaction from a Neptunian.

⚠️ Venus 1st house synastry can make Venus VERY hateful and mean towards the house person. They can have a hard time feeling bad for the house person because of the jealousy. Ive noticed the same with Venus 2nd house synastry.

⚠️ If Toro(1685) conjunct a planet in your chart dont only check that planet also check what house is ruled by that planet. Example: If you have Toro conjunct Venus and your 4th house is in Libra. Toro is conjunct your 4th house ruler so your mother/family could be your bully.

LAST YEARS SPOOKY NOTES🎃

©️ 2023 Zeldas Notes

#astro notes #astrology #astro observations #astronotes #lilith #birth chart readings

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pekuliar · 1 year

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HC for Reigen, his sibling, and his childhood

Reigen having a sibling is a pretty common HC!! Most headcanons with Reigen’s older sister/Reigen having a sibling portray the sibling as the “good kid”/“golden child” compared to his loser ass, but mostly based on…….projection from my own childhood……. I’d like to think it’s the opposite. IMO, Reigen was the “good kid” while his sibling was the one who Reigen’s parents probably worried about more

I think it’s quite a common hc too that Reigen’s parents were strict/emotionally neglectful/had unrealistic expectations of their kids, which I totally agree with. Now, here’s some projection and traumadumping to illustrate how children with these parents might grow —

There are a couple ways children survive living with overbearing/strict parents — by running themselves ragged trying to please them, or by accepting the frequent arguments/groundings/bans as part of life. I think Reigen (as I did) chose the former, and his sibling (as my sibling did) chose the latter.

My childhood went something like this: I was seen as the “unproblematic child” with a tendency to be a fast learner wherever it counted. I thrived off being good at things, and being told I was good at things. Classic “you can do anything you set your mind to” child. I wasn’t perfect by far; I just developed a sixth sense for getting away with things — lying, “reading” my parents, finding loopholes, scheduling “coincidences”, and a healthy amount of crying to guilt-trip my teachers.

My sibling, on the other hand, was the opposite — they skipped school, never cared to find any extracurricular clubs, and were always at odds with my parents. They made friends quick though; where I tended to only befriend people I was in the same class/club with, my sibling somehow always had a web of friends spanning multiple schools. Crucially, despite how often they fought with my parents, my sibling almost never lied, instead choosing to go “Yeah, I did that. So what?”, accepting the ensuing arguments.

Because of that, we grew very differently. My sibling is so much more open and sociable, hating environments where he’s made to act more “formal”/“professional”, figuring out early on that you don’t actually need to continually convince people that you matter. On the other hand, I think I’ve habitually covered up any single iota of genuineness inside me. I’m great at making first impressions but bad at actually connecting; I can’t cope with not being busy 100% of the time; I keep obsessively finding new skills to pick up because idk what else I can do. I also don’t have any good coping mechanisms for failure and rejection because, well, why would a “gifted kid” need to learn how to deal with being bad at things?* [*: sarcasm]

Does all this sound familiar?

So yes anyway. I think Reigen is Reigen because he was always good at pleasing his parents/teachers using a combination of deception/manipulation and actually being good at things, and was unable to accept failure/rejection because he’d always found a way to avoid it. And as a result of being unable to accept any outcome below the ideal, he would’ve gotten less and less honest about his own genuine emotions, eventually becoming great at presenting an “impressive” front but terrible at actually genuinely connecting with people.

And so in conclusion — LET CHILDREN BE SHIT AT THINGS. LET CHILDREN SUCK AT SCHOOLWORK/SPORTS/ETC. Literally no one was created to be perfect at everything. Allowing children to fail in a supportive environment doesn’t encourage them to “”underperform””; it makes them so much better at accepting failure and moving forward from it in a safe and non-self-destructive way. Also, forcing kids to be perfect doesn’t make them perfect — it just makes them damn good liars. Idk why this is becoming a parenting PSA from me, a single 24-year-old, but please just. Let children be shit.

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #long post #sorry #mp100 headcanons #reigen arataka #arataka reigen #this rly is 90% projection #but it makes sense okay!!!!!

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yfere · 5 years

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M9 Signature Moves! (Out of Combat Edition)

Part 2, with some scattered commentary.

Fjord

Fjord wants to understand other people even if he’s not the best at it. Meanwhile, he’d like to avoid making himself understood. He doesn’t like scrutiny, or vulnerability. Better to step back behind someone else.

Mask of Many Faces. What he says: I like people watching :) What he means: I like imitating other people’s voices and appearances to cope with my many issues :)

Deception Check. The funny thing is, I’m fairly certain Fjord’s talent for deception comes not through dedicated practice or being a habitual liar/obfuscater so much as having deadpan sarcasm levels that are so God Tier that everyone else has to really work at figuring out whether he’s joking or not at any given moment. “Make a deception check,” Matt says, when Fjord is literally just making a shitty sarcastic joke. The party routinely giving him Doubtful Looks until he has to explain that he really was just joking, he didn’t mean that, why would you think he meant that. Likes to joke sometimes to avoid more uncomfortable emotions. It’s important to him, to keep it together.

Gift of the Depths Magic that helped him cope with the drowning thing. Erroneously assumes it will also help other people cope with their water issues as well.

Help Action The beautiful thing about Fjord, I think, is that oftentimes he will not lead in any particular task. Even the ones where technically, they would benefit by him leading! What he does instead, routinely, is pick someone else for the task, someone better than him (Caleb for history and investigation, Caduceus for insight, Jester and Beau for perception and so on) or even just a person who wants to do it, and he will help them with that task, or at the very least make sure they get help. And his help is always a useful thing to have. It helps him, too, to step back, to get out of the glare of the spotlight.

Beau

Beau is curious, she is intelligent, and she is talented. But as much as she postures, she’s not really as confident in her abilities as she should be by rights.

Extort Truth Don’t. Lie. To. Me. How Beau wants to know things, wants to know them so badly she will go after secrets with the bluntest of instruments, something painfully obvious—and it will work for her. It works when she punches the truth out of people, just as it works when she threatens not to let you into her library unless you tell her of your sordid past.

Persuasion Check Don’t. Lie. To. Me….please? No, but it’s brilliant how the party relies on her to handle their most fraught social encounters, even though she’s not the most charismatic, even though she’s personally better at lying than telling the truth. Because, despite everything, she’s the most trustworthy of all of them. They believe in her, rely on her, and they should.

History Check Beau might claim she’s more interested in the doodles of the margins of the books she read at the Cobalt Soul than the texts themselves, but at least part of that is posturing. She’s a big nerd who has done a lot of studying of some obscure shit, and she’s always looking around her to see if any of the fuckery they encounter matches up with one of those shitty lessons she had at the monastery. She pays attention, okay?

Acrobatics Check “I parkour.” It’s gotten to the point where she does not actually need to make skill checks to do her parkour magic. Still, nothing beats running your way out of a literal pit.

Caleb

What Caleb says and what he does are two very different things. Maybe once you take all his spell components away, he’ll actually be forced to use language to express how he feels. But who are we kidding. He’ll start muttering in Zemnian and you’ll be right back where you started with him.

Leomund’s Tiny Hut As with much of Caleb’s magic, a love letter to his special people. Says all the things he refuses to. Developed in an obsessive fervor while his friends were kidnapped, and unveiled when they were rescued so no one would be taken in the night again. Someday, he will make them something even better. He believes in a future where he will make them something even better.

Identify Demonstrating succinctly a lot of what makes Caleb a lovely and generous person, and also what makes him a bit of a secret-hoarding asshole. Because he likes doing favors for people, and showering them with gifts, and when you’re poor the gift lies in the identify and the giving, even when technically the item you were giving away was communal property in the first place. But also, when Caleb wants something because he thinks it’s fair for him to have as it was fair for the others to have their things, he will learn what it is, and he will keep it without a word. Jerk! Explain exactly what it is so we can keep the illusion that this is a fair process you’ve set up!

Find Familiar Caleb really loves Frumpkin, and Frumpkin is supposed to be a cat, and supposed to be with him, getting pet. But if Frumpkin has to be something else because you need him to be, he will. If Frumpkin has to scope out enemy territory for you to be safe, so be it. Frumpkin will be your landing pad, he will be the trade that will let a caged creature go free, he will sit in your pocket as a replacement owl, he will sit in the rain in the dark and watch over you while you sleep.

Suggestion Sometimes Caleb doesn’t want to leave things up to chance. Deep down, he doesn’t really trust people, so when he’s uncertain or threatened he’ll substitute persuasion and insight to force someone to do what he needs them to do. Tell us the truth about who you are. Show me any dangerous items you have on your person. Go with us into the water, so you are not left behind.

Nott

Nott wants to go back to being Veth, but in some ways she’s really living her best life right now, causing trouble and learning how to cause trouble doing things she never knew how to do before.

Message She can talk to who she pleases, but she and Caleb get their own private line, where no one else is invited “You can reply to this message, and only I can hear your reply.” One of their first spells together, the beginning of Nott the Brave, the Arcane Trickster.

Disguise Self Nott wants to feel comfortable in her own skin. And she doesn’t feel it with the spell, she feels just the same, but she looks the way she is supposed to, and that’s a step. A painful step, when the son she hugs can feel the wrongness of her through the illusion even as she clings to him.

Tinker Check/Alchemist’s Supplies Nott is nothing if not a smart cookie, creative, and reckless as fuck. She will mess with chemicals and she will mess with acid and she will mess with gunpowder—all things which feature centrally in special moves that never quite go as planned like Fireline and Fluffernutter. She will blow things up—sometimes herself. But that’s the joy of a creative mind, really.

Mage Hand Why disable the trap when you can just set it off at a distance? Explosions are more fun to watch than not-explosions, after all. Also makes you look like a cool motherfucker when you’re in a drinking contest.

Jester

Art, heart, and imagination...that is Jester. What she does is more than just pranks and troublemaking, though--her skills are integral to solving any goal put forward by the M9. And what of her own goals? Time will tell.

Sending Caleb might be good enough with his polymorphs to turn people into other people, but Jester, her art, and her imagination give her an edge in another spell. All you have to do is describe a person to her, good enough for her to do a real nice police sketch, to imagine what the person is like. And she’ll be able to cast a spell that will communicate with them anywhere, even though she’s never laid eyes on them before. A hard spell to wrangle for a natural chatterbox, maybe, but her sheer talent you cannot deny.

Zone of Truth She’s too good of an investigator to really need it for interrogation, or believe it when she does use it for detective work. Zone of Truth, Jester believes, can only be truly relied on when paired with the sacrosanct tradition of Truth or Dare.

Locate Object Woooooow, so she was the only one not to get robbed, huh? Guess who is the most responsible person with money after all? Jester is always looking for things important to other people, whether it be lost coinpurses, seals, or those creepy cloven orbs that Fjord keeps sticking into his body. “Oh, he’s going to be so upset!” she despairs, when she can’t find it. But then she picks up where the key has gone, and lights up with joy. She looks for what’s important to others, before ever looking for what’s important to her (because once you stop stop looking it will hit you in the face)

Forgery Kit The pen is mightier than the sword! At nigh every stage of her adventure with the M9, it has been her immaculate paper trail that has enabled them to accomplish their goals and not end up rotting behind bars. Pulled off some amazing government reshuffling, too. I would fear her as a diplomat.

Caduceus

Caduceus has very set ideas about how the world works, but sometimes his lack of experience with the outside world causes him real problems. He isn’t worried, though.

Insight Check Caduceus is a person Fjord believes with some justification to be a kind of mind reader. He certainly has pretty god-like powers here, and he is both a benevolent god and just. He senses sugar off of you, he will bring you a veggie platter. He senses guilt, he will release you from prison against your will so you can face your wrongdoings in the world. Caduceus knows best--at least Caduceus thinks so.

Divination When Caduceus finds out you have family you’re searching for, he will invoke Melora’s aid to find out if they’re safe out there, or what direction they're headed in so you can save them. Caduceus, aren’t you wondering what happened to your own family? No, he’s not going to cast a spell for that, it’s best if he didn’t question…

Create Food and Water Above all else, Caduceus wants the people he cares about to be eating well. Do his non-vegetarian, pocket-bacon loving friends agree with him on what eating well is? Is the beanpole skinny-ass firbolg eating well himself? Ummmmm…

Nature Check he doesn’t know what that is or how it works, but it sure is pretty. When you think about it, everything is just more territory. Nature is nature no matter where you go. Sure, that man-eating seaweed seems a bit odd, as does the enormous murderous bird. But when you think about it, can you really be surprised by it?

Yasha

Yasha struggles a lot--with grief, with getting close to people. But in her strange, standoffish way, she is always there when it counts. And she’ll always be there, for her entire life and beyond. She has that kind of loyalty, that kind of drive.

Investigation Check She looks for flowers, and special things, in out of the way places, and keeps them in her book.

Strength Check These arms are worth a lot! A check tailor made for impressing people at circuses, winning arm wrestling competitions, and for chasing tail while saving your friends.

Dexterity Check You can shave your friend with your greatsword. That’s how you keep your legs so smooth and shiny, after all.

Necrotic Shroud It happened again.

#critical role #fjord #beauregard #caleb widogast #nott the brave #jester lavorre #caduceus clay #yasha nydoorin #the mighty nein #cr spoilers

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legionnaireslover · 5 years

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Just keep digging...

Eventually you'll just bury yourselves in your own shit!

From Gator's blog -

Nooo, Gator, you're LIARS because you keep on making up lies to suit your own purposes and try to pass them off as facts.

Jazzie wasn't "questioning" anything when she posted ...

She is absolutely STATING that Ben was ON HIS OWN, ALONE at the Tate. And please don't insult anyone's intelligence and try and say she was just randomly "questioning" if and why he might be alone. She was VERY MUCH saying he habitually is seen without Sophie in his free time because she isn't in the photograph and this is done for the purpose by her to lend PROOF that his marriage is fake. And that turned out to be not true. She was there.

It was a LIE when you INSISTED that little children would NOT be taken to the Tate. You weren't "questioning" it - you REPEATEDLY remarked that it was UNBELIEVABLE. You refused to accept any evidence that didn't coincide with your ideas - even after being told of the Tate child-friendly environs. That's not being "skeptical"... that's being NARROW-MINDED AND STUBBORN.

You LIED about Sophie's performance dates hoping that unsuspecting readers would believe you...

You KNEW she didn't have a performance because you and every other Hater moaned for days about Ben not being seen at them and the dates were mentioned ad nauseam.

You LIED when thememacat posted this -

You could have said "I don't know" but instead you STATED that Sophie's performance had got NO PRESS COVERAGE. Later, when presented with hard evidence of the truth you just shrugged it off with a flippant response about not paying to read the glowing Times review.

You LIED about the people who reported seeing the whole Cumberfamily at the Tate...

BTW putting a question mark on the end of your sentences doesn't always mean you are just being doubtful and seeking an answer. Sometimes, like it is here, it is a way of showing derision and scorn for any other ideas other than your own. There wasn't a shred of evidence to suggest the people who posted about BC and his family being at the Tate were "nans" or from some fictitious "Team Zero". But you purposely made it sound like these things were VERY real possibilities.

But you didn't stop there...

You double LIED about one of these people and just accused him outright and said there was some sort of collusion because he posted his sighting. No connection was between the poster and anyone connected with Sophie and none of the other commenters on his FB page thought there was anything wonky about his sighting. So why DID you try to make him out as a liar?

As for who is OBSESSED about this... I will leave that alone because just on your responses alone that I have reproduced here (a SMALL fraction of the ones you posted on this topic) it kind of speaks for itself just who is truly OBSESSED. The evidence of your 4 year + obsession with Sophie Cumberbatch and BC'S and her family is all there on your own tumblr blog. That's ONE thing you CAN'T LIE ABOUT!

#benedict cumberbatch #haters #haters just can’t stand to see bc happy!#sophie cumberbatch #gatorfisch #haters are liars!#haters are delusional

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shirtlesssammy · 7 years

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The Man Who Would Be King: 6x20 Recap

Then:

Cas Baby is just doing the best he can.

Now:

Well, here were are, at the pinnacle of Cas episodes (until season 12 came along and we had a gluttonous feast on our hands.) We open with Cas reflecting to the audience on his time spent observing Earth, and humanity; its successes and failures (dried dung can only be stacked so high after all), and he remembers the apocalypse that never came to be. When two boys, a drunk, and a fallen angel rip up the rules, well, how’s he supposed to know if he made the right choice? Goddamn, this monologue really sets up a beautiful episode.

Beauty Break:

Beauty Break Pt. 2:

After the title card, we find Dean cruising around at night in the Impala. Cas flaps in with a, “Hello Dean.” He wonders how Dean is doing, and Dean asks if there’s any news on Crowley. And despite there being quite a bit of very important news about Crowley, Cas says no. Dean says that he’s on his way to meet Sam, who’s tracking a Djinn in Omaha. Cas regrets his inability to help, but Dean gets it, and adds, “No worries. But, Cas, you'll call, right? If you get into real trouble?” Damn, I’m already starting to tear up here, guys.

Cas flaps away to Crowley’s torture den of torture.

Crowley is busy doing a very thorough autopsy on Eve (Fun fact: I didn’t know that was Eve until I read the transcript just now. I’m a fake fan.) Crowley gets a bit testy when Cas asks about Eve opening the door to Purgatory. Crowley doubts Cas’s loyalty and tells him to stay away from the Winchesters (after some heavily implied innuendo about Cas’s trenchcoat.)

Cas admits to the audience that Crowley is right, he still considers himself the Winchesters’ guardian. <Insert lots of sad imagery from Swan Song here> They taught him to fight, and they won, but at a terrible cost. So, our poor, loyal, misguided angel went back to the pits of Hell and retrieved --most of-- Sam.

Crowley tells Cas to kill the Winchesters, which Cas declines. Crowley loses his shit over underestimating the Winchesters (and in retrospect of season 12, what a weird, sad full circle to this. He never underestimated them, they came to be allies, and he still died --only because he was helping the Winchesters, not trying to hurt them.) Cas orders Crowley to find Purgatory, and to leave the Winchesters alone again.

At Bobby’s, Sam and Bobby interrogate a demon. Dean walks in and motions to Sam and Bobby to talk in private.

Dean tells the others that Cas popped in on him and he lied about what they were up to, and that they were getting close to Crowley. He adds, with great remorse, “You know, he's our friend...And we are lying to him through our teeth.” Oh, Dean. So loyal, so misguided when you let your heart muddle your instincts. The others are still worried he’s working with Crowley. As they admit their feelings, the camera cuts to Cas watching them, without their knowledge. Agghhh. As Bobby worries that they’re dealing with “Superman who's gone dark side”, Dean projects that Sam is Lois Lane (lol, Dean, it’s season 6, we see through your projection bullshit by now.) (And for the record, lying liar Castiel looks SO REMORSEFUL. I FORGIVE YOU!)

Cas knows Dean’s conflicted, and it’s heartbreaking. Bobby heads back to continue knifing info from the demon. Under duress, the demon admits that he doesn’t deal with Crowley. He deals with a demon called Ellsworth (Oh man, this is too good to not believe this is a coincidence. Jim Beaver will always be Bobby now, but there was a time -for a very long time- that he was Ellsworth. Sigh. #TeamDeadwood)

We then get to meet the demon version of Bobby. He deals with lots of bubbling blood phone calls, and the occasional real phone call, while Yeti demons sully his living area with trussed up victims. To neutralize the chances of the Winchesters getting killed, he smites the demons. He justifies to the audience, “I had no choice. I did it to protect the boys. Or to protect myself. I-I don't know anymore.”

Sam, Dean, and Bobby burst into the demon house, but find the place spotless --too spotless. Cas reflects on his motives. After he “saved” Sam, he went back to heaven (specifically his favorite heaven: an autistic man’s day at a park), only to be confronted about what happened in the apocalypse. The angel, Rachel, insists that God brought Cas back to lead the angels (she’s half right), but Cas counters that God wants the angels to have freedom. He then heads to find Raphael, who tells him that he will bow to him and swear his allegiance. After that, they’ll free Michael and Lucifer from the cage and get this show going again. Cas refuses, and tells Raphael he will stop him. Raphael then blasts him back to his heavenly park, and tells him obey or die.

Back at Crowley’s dispatcher headquarters, the boys and Bobby search for clues. Bobby notes that the place is “Mister Clean clean” and it’s...suspicious. Dean suggests calling Cas, to the eyerolled derision of Sam and Bobby. Fed up with their doubts, Dean lays out his argument: Cas broke ranks and laid down his life for them… Also, this is CAS. (I love that this is Dean’s habitual argument regarding Cas. “It’s CAS”)

Sam relents and prays, then Dean gives it a shot. Cas loiters invisibly in the background, too afraid to show himself. He knows he would buckle under their interrogation. Suddenly demons appear out of nowhere, attacking Dean, Sam, and Bobby. Cas recognizes the attackers as Crowley’s elite squad of killers. He’s faced with a choice: don’t intervene and risk losing the Winchesters or save them and face the consequences with Crowley. Castiel sweeps in and smites the demons swiftly and without mercy (starting with Dean’s demon - just sayin’).

*Fans self*

After the fight, everyone puts themselves to rights. Cas tells them that he’s come to the conclusion that Crowley is alive. Dean smiles in relief and prompts Bobby to apologize for doubting him. They confess to Cas that they were hunting Crowley without him, thinking that he may be involved.

Cas acts astonished and a little abashed at this. “Wonders never cease,” the voiceover intones, “They trusted me again.” And then...Cas earns a new nickname as the most foolish angel of the garrison when he goes on to chuckle, “It is a little absurd though. Superman going to the darkside?” Bobby and Sam exchange significant looks and Dean’s face just falls entirely. Cas just let slip that he was spying on them.

Oh, Dean Bean.

Later, Cas busts through the doors of Crowley’s weird little dissection chamber.

For Science:

Cas is pissed that Crowley tried to kill the Winchesters. Crowley is astonished that Cas could possibly be so blind. Cas, he maintains, wants the Winchesters to believe in the good and righteous Castiel so that he can believe it just a little bit longer. Instead, Cas needs to realize that he is down in the dirt right alongside Crowley. If he’d only take care of those Winchesters...

Cas takes him by the coat and shoves him against the wall so hard he breaks tiles. “If you touch a hair on their heads, I will tear it all down. Our arrangement. Everything.” He flaps out. GOD Cas is so smitey in this episode I love it UNAPOLOGETICALLY.

And we flap back in time to how Cas got into this mess in the first place. After Raphael beat the shit out of him, Cas went to Dean, who was raking leaves outside of Lisa’s house. He arrived invisible at first and as he watched Dean, he found he didn’t have the heart to take him from his well earned rest.

While Cas contemplates his options, Crowley pops in. He’d like to propose a little business arrangement. “It all comes down to the souls in the end,” Crowley says. “I’m talking about Raphael’s head on a pike. I’m talking about happy endings for all of us with all possible entendres intended.” CROWLEY, you absolute delight. Anyway, Crowley begs for just five minutes of Cas’s time. Cas agrees and follows Crowley into Hell, assuming he can outwit that lesser demon any day. After all, Castiel’s “an angel, you ass.”

Crowley leads Cas through the new Hell, an interminable waiting room line designed to torture even the most insatiable masochist. Cas insists that his only options with Raphael are to submit or die. “What are you, French?” Crowley asks. There’s another way, sunshine. Crowley 1) proposes that Cas start a civil war in Heaven and 2) that he loan Cas some soul power to get him started. Crowley expertly strokes Cas’s ego while offering him options to join his side. If they can get at Purgatory they can split the souls between them. They just need to figure out how to get there.

“Wouldn’t you rather have me in charge down here?” Crowley asks. “The devil you know?” Cas can save everyone. He can preserve what Dean and Sam worked so hard for. “God chose you to save us,” he says. And Cas buckles at last.

Cas, powered by the power of 50,000 souls and a hefty dose of pride, heads back to Heaven and blasts Raphael into next Tuesday. “There will be no apocalypse,” Cas announces. Angels are either with him or against him.

Back on earth, Sam and Dean hunker down in the demon dispatcher’s headquarters. Dean prays to Cas, asking for a meeting. Cas arrives promptly, convinced he’s in their good graces. They greet him casually, whisky glasses in hand. Sam tells Cas that they have a way to track down Crowley. It’s CAS...dun dun dun. He throws a match down and captures Cas in a ring of holy fire.

They ask him about spying. “You know who spies on people, Cas?” Dean asks insightfully. “Spies.” They interrogate him about the overly polished dispatcher headquarters and Crowley’s mistaken bones. Cas tries to explain his way out of the predicament but then Dean asks him to look him in the eye and tell him he isn’t working with Crowley. Cas can’t do it. He looks away.

(Me: tries not to clutch my heart at this. Fails.)

Cas tries to protest that he did everything he did to protect everyone. He tries to play what he thinks should be his ace up his sleeve. “Sam, I am the one who raised you from perdition.”

Everyone raises their heads at this and Sam sniffs, “No offense, but you did a pretty piss poor job of it. Wait. Did you bring me back soulless on purpose?”

Cas is appalled that Sam would think that and tries to back up, explaining his war against Raphael. “I had no choice.” Dean tells him that he had a choice and made the wrong one. He bites out that he shouldn’t have made another deal with the devil. Cas tries to throw it back on Dean. Maybe he was wrong, but where was Dean this whole time?

“I was there,” Dean tells him. “Where were you?” Cas reluctantly agrees that he should have approached the Winchesters for help but it’s too late now. From the distance, demons swirl towards the building.

“I can’t turn back now,” Cas says frantically. He shouts at them all to run. Dean looks back once, a world of pain in his eyes, and then they’re gone.

Demons smoke into the building and Crowley arrives. Oh lookee at the mess. He snaps his fingers and the holy fire ring whiffs out. “You know what I see here? The new god. The new devil working together.”

Cas has had enough and tells Crowley to GTFO. “You know the difference between you and me?” Crowley asks as a parting shot. “I know what I am. What are you, Castiel? What exactly are you willing to do?” (<-- Ah, the thesis statement.)

Cas flaps into Bobby’s cabin later and Dean wakes to find him standing at the foot of the couch. Cas tries one more time to explain to Dean his mission. “I’m doing this for you, Dean,” Cas insists.

Dean tells him he’s a “friggin’ child” and begs him to stop, merely on the strength of their familial connection. “You gotta trust me, man.”

“Or what,” Cas asks ominously. (Or stabby stabby.) Dean and Cas part without peace between them.

Flash forward again to Cas sitting on the bench finishing his prayer. “That’s everything. I believe that’s what you call a tragedy from the human perspective.” He looks at the sky and begs, one last time, for direction. “Am I on the right path? You have to give me a sign. Give me a sign…” His prayer breaks down, showing how desperate and scared he is. “If you don’t, I’m gonna do...whatever I must.”

Natasha: I’m never ready to have my heart broken by this episode. The framing device of a prayer to God for help is so beautifully done. It creates an air of desperation while threading together what is essentially a long running montage in a cohesive way. It ties Cas to Heaven, to Hell, to Earth, and to Dean. Everything builds to a crescendo and at the end we all sit, stunned, with what we had thought of Castiel in shards around our feet.

You Never Look Like You’re Quoting:

The stench of that Impala’s all over your overcoat, angel.

Sometimes we’re lucky enough to be given a warning.

Am I the only game piece on the board who doesn’t underestimate those denim wrapped nightmares?!

He is the Balky Bartokomous of Heaven.

If I knew then what I know now, I might have said. That’s simple. Freedom is a length of rope. God wants you to hang yourself with it.

Explaining freedom to angels is a bit like teaching poetry to fish.

You never look like you’re joking.

This is not how synergy works.

I wanna help you help me help ourselves.

I’m an angel, you ass. I don’t have a soul to sell.

Lucifer was a petulant child with daddy issues.

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#spn recap #spn rewatch #spn 6x20 #the man who would be king #castiel #cas #dean winchester #sam winchester #bobby singer #crowley #he was my ben edlund thing #supernatural season 6

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residesatshamecentral · 7 years

Text

Mirrors and masks

Companion fic to Masks and Mirrors.

...

1. Dead heart

The first thing, as Huth understood it, was that Germany as it should have been had no further hope.

When brutality wins out, he reasoned, that leaves the individual. The self being all that mattered, it was logical to choose the winning side. He had always aimed to be on the winning team, since the harsh lessons of his boyhood taught him the price of mediocrity. It would never have occurred to him to ask himself if he liked the team itself. In Huth's mind, success and personal comfort were incompatible. In success itself there would be satisfaction. One day. That was worth sacrificing comfort for.

And so, he ended up in SS uniform.

And so, he left rooms where battered bodies dripped blood onto concrete floors.

And so, he ordered executions, not looking away from the eyes of the mothers, not refusing to hear the words screamed at him, edged with blood. He would not be weak enough to turn away from his surroundings. This was his work now. His work had a price.

And he felt something die in himself. And he felt something decay in himself. And he carried on.

2. Elusion

Archer was a rare enigma.

He had selected the best and most active detective from the Scotland Yard records, commandeered him as an assistant and prepared for a lengthy side-project of intimidation against a very resentful and defiant British native.

But instead he got Archer.

Huth had one talent he had never doubted in himself, the talent for seeing clearly peoples feelings and motivations. But he could sense that something in Archer was eluding him. There was defeat in the lines of his body, and fear, but the subliminal defiance he usually got with the English simply did not register. Was this, he wondered a sign of a coward, a depressive, a collaborator or something dangerous?

So he studied the man.

Passivity is like water. Archer allowed intimidation tactics to pass through without a mark. He obeyed orders smoothly, deflecting threats with humour, never refusing to meet Huths eye and never once showing any sign of rebellion. The small barbs Huth habitually tossed at the world became sharper as he sought a reaction. The infuriatingly smooth mask barely twitched. A bare glimpse of emotion here and there, like the flick of a tail among the weeds. Perhaps what lurked in the still waters was a pike. Perhaps not.

Deep inside, a spark of hope flared like a candle flame in shadowy dim of Huth's emotional deadland. He had not had a real challenge since killing the last few American spies in the SS. Here perhaps was an enemy of quality.

3. Burnt-out tigers

It was depression, he decided, and disappointment settled like dust within him. Archer had great potential, but he was sedated by depression. That was all. Most likely a combination of his wife's death, the occupation and the millstone of responsibility for his son.

And it could have been so interesting.

Huth began to wonder, watching Archer, if the man himself was even aware of his own emotional state. At every turn he would crack a weak joke, generally while under visible stress. Jokes, thought Huth, are a form of resistance, but also a shield between the person and the problem. Shields are for cowards, but Archer was more...evasive than cowardly.

Archer was too afraid to face the world head-on. If he faced reality, he would have to act and if he had to act, he would have to takes sides then, wouldn't he? And which side could he reasonably take, with a motherless eight-year old in tow? The man was treading water. Well, that could not last forever. Nor should it.

Huth was not given to introspection for the same reasons that a person with a murdered body buried in the garden is not given to digging up the flowerbeds. But on some level he was aware that his irritation with Archers passivity was causing him to goad the man. It was like working at a loose tooth.

Springer would say it was undisciplined of him. Dangerous too. If he had a beaten enemy here, why not let sleeping dogs lie? He considered this. He turned his back on it.

The urge that led him on came from something at the root of Huth. Deep in his nature there was a love of activity and a loathing of apathy as untrainable as the hunting instinct of a cat. Tied up with it was the maddening image of what Archer could have been. Should have been. It was like seeing a tiger drugged into docility. The urge to kick some life into the beast overwhelmed any caution that had been drummed into him.

Of course, if you kicked the tiger often enough, it would come for you.

4. Flickers and flames

He had to laugh. He tasted blood in his mouth. And he had to laugh.

The corpse was limp on the wall, a scarecrow, tarred and feathered like a bad joke and it was apparently enough to punch an SS officer over.

It was the last thing he had expected. He had thought, the wretch will stammer and stutter and blame me. He had thought he does not understand these terrorists at all, he thinks the bastards are heroes...perhaps he will be surprised into criticizing our regime. He had thought go on, cry, Archer.

He had never once thought he will punch me.

It was the most honest reaction he had gotten yet.

He spat out the blood and talked through the rage, aware all the time of a heady triumph somewhere inside. Normally he would kill over this. Normally.

5. Damage limitation

Question one: When you set a fire, are you responsible for the outcome? Question two: Should you give a damn about the outcome if you are?

Huth found time to ponder one evening, reading over a report and considering the implications of Archers most recent lies to him. He begun to keep a list of Archer's lies, dated and ranked in order, with implications written in pencil beside each.

Huth's emotional life was a fairly blank one, but he would normally expect to feel triumph over all this. Amusement. Something anyway. All he felt was a strange, distant regret. An apprehension, even. Why?

He had wondered if he had found a tiger he could hunt. When he had found the beast was sleeping, he had – against all logic - kicked it awake. And the result was almost pitiable. Not only was Archer a terrible liar, he genuinely seemed to think he stood a chance of winning. It was like fighting a sock puppet.

It was funny. Huth took a sip of the whiskey. It was funny, but why did something twinge in him? It had twinged the same way once during a skirmish. He had watched a young recruit stagger into firing range. A boy no more than eighteen, deafened and disoriented by a small blast. The enemy had risen behind him from the barricades. The boy had no idea. Oblivious to the threat. To oncoming death. And then his body had danced grotesquely with the impact of the bullets. He cared. That was the truth of it. For whatever reason, Archer was not an irrelevant casualty to him.

He thought over strategies by which he might limit the damage:

Strategy 1. Pure intimidation. Having woken Archer up, he could not easily put him back in his box again. It would work on a coward, but that was not what Archer was.

Strategy 2. Arresting Archer to protect him. It would only work if there were a pretext, one that would see him leave custody with minimum physical and mental damage. Few pretexts would work. He would most likely end up in a concentration camp.

Strategy 3. Seize the boy as collateral. No. stupid. Fear for his son would keep Archer quiet in the short term. In the long term, he would just awake a vendetta against himself. He needed to turn Archer to his own use. Which led him to...

Strategy four. Bring Archer on-side. Now that was an idea he could get behind.

And you have been toying with the hope for some time really haven't you? Whispered a treacherous little voice in the back of Huths skull. Bring him to to your side and keep him there. Because... Huths jaw tightened imperceptibly at the admission...you have had more than enough of your fellow Nazi to last a lifetime. Because Archer is exactly the sort of man you like. Even though he hates you. Because you are so bloody lonely really, are you not, Oskar?

The sun set. The last of the light slowly faded from the gloomy London skies. In the dim of the office, the blinds cast their shadows on the walls. Huth toyed with a pen and a notepad. His figure was very upright, almost motionless. Apart from the slight movements of the arms and fingers, he was perfectly still, like the living statues now banned from Covent Market.

Carrot and stick. Fear on one side, selfishness on the other. Hint, insinuate, what he knew of Archer's activities. Use a delicate touch, for the fear. Then, the offer of power. Of money. Of a future for the boy. Of comparative freedom. Of the fear and respect of his fellow man.

It would work.

The shadows lengthened.

6. Losses

Springer was dead.

He had watched the life leave the eyes of his friend. He had smelt the blood Springer coughed up, wiped it off his cheek. He got drunk in the darkness of his office.

His mind wheeled slowly through dissconected images as he worked through the bottle. His father's face. It was one of the darker grudges of his life that he outdid him every day, then looked in the mirror every day and saw his father's expression. He thought of Springers eyes, those last few moments. The blank fear and rage there as he convulsed on the stretcher. The copper tang of blood had been so strong in his nostrils. Why had there been fear in Springer's eyes? It was all wrong. He had seen the man take a bullet without flinching. There was something deeply amiss with the universe, if Springer faced death with fear. His shit of a father had hated fear in other people. Ah. What a very particularly male tragedy, to hate the man and turn into him. Hate him, every single day. And turn into him. He needed to get much more drunk.

Archers appearance was welcome. There was a self-contained purpose to his movements now and the glances he cast at Huth were less fearful, more calculating. He ordered the man to stay, aware with a sort of bitter levity that only an order would make Archer keep him company. How had he ever thought Archer a collaborator? Collaborators curry favor by insinuating themselves into conquerors lives. Archer would always have politely fled this situation, at any stage of their relationship, if allowed to.

Huth talked. He barely remembered, later, what he talked about, only that he opened up. The dark memories unfolded from the cells of his mind and made the office colder. His captive audience listened quietly. There was nothing prying in his manner. When he spoke, it had the quality of an echo. He seemed to reflect Huth somehow, when he talked. It was the mark of a good listener.

When he asked about the Project, Huth had a vision of himself as Archer must see him. Driven and solitary. Powerful, hungry. Upwardly mobile. Archer was restrained by the civilised illusions that stopped him from realising ambition and self-belief. And he could see far enough into Huth to know that he was not. Could see the hunger for greatness. And the lack of restraint to that hunger.

He smiled at the image of himself, and looked up at the man perched on the edge of his desk. How outwardly fragile he was. Like a bird.

Huths affections for people were not exactly human. Affection, for him, was based in love of the qualities he valued. Looking up, drunkenly, he saw the fragile body and the knife-like mind. Saw the spring of concealed rage and the calculated caution controlling that spring. And Archer could see him. See part of him anyway. It meant a lot, being seen. Pity he was such a bad liar.

He made his offer. Later, he would castigate himself for being drunk. For letting his emotions run away with him. For touching Archer like that. But it was so cold. Springer was dead. He was alone. Again. He was drunk. The shadows closed in from the corners of the walls and gunfire sounded just out of hearing. Perhaps he touched Archer to check he was alive. In the cold, among the ashes, he needed to know there was another heart beating.

There was. The other man's arm was warm. Huth's affection went out like a whip, freed by loss. He was hard, but he was human and while he had gone through the fire he still needed something to love. He could love Archer. He could.

And the answer was no.

7. Ashes

Archers eyes were a wall of black glass.

He argued. He refused to analyse the offence he felt. And the answer was no.

Alone, he put his head back and sank into luxurious despair. So tonight was the night his last solid ground was taken from him was it? He had had faith in his abilities to manipulate people. He had thought he understood motivation. And he was presented with the species of stupidity he had envied and thought gone from the world.

So Archer had taken the high road had he? Picked idealism. Picked loyalty. Picked faith in a country long flattened and defeated. A country that would never know or care. A country that would chew him and spit him out, to die under the jackboot of Nazism.

He had picked the high road. So what must he think of Huth?

He got as drunk as he possibly could.

In the murky dark, thoughts swam, mixing with half-formed dreams. Ash fell from skies darkened with clouds by a bomb that could wipe out worlds. Beyond the windows of the empty office, a petrified forest grew, grey trunks stained with black. Sharp cries broke the silence and torches lit up the distance as search parties hunted something through the night and he was one of them, in his long coat, now leaping from roof to roof in a bombed-out city, watching the hunters from a distance, great troops in black uniforms, a swarm of ants spread across the wasteland. There he was. So frail even from a distance, fleeing toward the horizon, where the jungle was reclaiming its own, fleeing for the undergrowth where the roots and the dark would hide him. Fleeing, across the bleak wasteland where the pittiless hunters pursued. He was better than them.

Run you fool, whispered Huth and fell into the pit of sleep.

#ss-gb #ss-gb fanfic #fanfiction #Dr Huth #dr oskar huth #douglas archer #archer/huth #would you like some pain?#i can deliver #god #huth is such a terrible person #shame central #the ship we all ship with shame #companion fic #dont be stupid be a smarty #come and join the nazi party

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