#this would mean the whole entire world to me
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Odegra and The Language of The Dark Priesthood of Ancient Mu
Let's decode Disco Tony's hilarious work presentation. On the known history of The Dark Priesthood of Ancient Mu under the cut.
Right, so, a few of you have requested word nerdery on the Odegra scene so here we go... For a refresher, here's the dialogue with the wordplay-significant bits that we'll look at bolded:
Crowley: So, thanks to three computer hacks, selected bribery, and me moving some markers across a field one night, the M25 London Orbital Motorway, which was supposed to look like this, will, when it opens in 1986, actually look like this [shows a terrible picture of, more or less, the same thing lol] and represent the dread sigil 'Odegra' in the language of The Dark Priesthood of Ancient Mu. 'Odegra' means 'Hail the Great Beast, Devourer of Worlds.' Can I hear a wahoo?
[Some of the demons have enough energy to half-boo; most just continue to sit there looking miserable. Of all of them, only Beez looks like they might be getting how bullshit this all is and, either way, they still have no idea what Crowley is actually saying and really couldn't care less.]
Crowley: Once it's built, the millions of motorists who grumble their way around it are going to be like water on a prayer wheel grinding out an endless fog of low-grade evil that will encircle the whole of London. [Hastur raises his hand with a question.] Yes, Duke Hastur?
Hastur: What's a computer?
---
A lot of the humor of the scene comes from the fact that, unlike the demons, we know that a word as short as 'Odegra' cannot possibly mean something as long as 'Hail The Great Beast, Devourer of Worlds'... and 'Odegra' isn't a word familiar to many of us in the first place, adding to the feeling that Crowley is b.s.-ing the demons. The scene ending with Hastur asking for a definition of 'computer'-- basically, the first word Crowley said in what we see of the presentation lol-- exists as the punchline to the presentation and the scene as a whole, showing us that Crowley is correct in believing that there is no one in the room who can really tell that he's playing them.
Still, we know that language is a big thing on Good Omens (and that's an understatement) and Crowley is saying something... so, can we use the rules of Ineffable Husbands Speak that we've been looking at to figure out what, exactly, Crowley might be saying? Seems we can and, as you'll see, when we do, it becomes apparent very quickly that this presentation to Hell about the highway that Crowley describes as a demonically evil masterpiece exhibiting reverence to Satan and all things satanic is actually about Aziraphale and their world together and Crowley is getting a kick out of watching that fly over the heads of his audience. Crowley definitely performed this presentation for Aziraphale at some point, though (maybe rehearsed it a la Aziraphale's magic show?). Aziraphale enjoyed it a great deal more than the demons of Hell did, since it was written to amuse him.
Odegra: Odegra, a word that doesn't exactly exist in this form... but that Crowley didn't entirely make up either. Professional midwife that he is, Crowley used rules of human language to birth it into existence from a pre-existing word. If odegra did exist (and, honestly, Crowley using it and it being in Good Omens means it now does exist in both his and our worlds), it would be derived from the only word like it that does exist-- the Polish odegrac. What's hilarious is that odegrac means... to get one over on someone (not kidding lol)... as well as: to put on a performance and to play act a role.
So, the word Crowley is claiming means something in an ancient human language that doesn't exist is actually a word he made up that is of a word that does exist... and that word means to fool someone, to put on a performance, and to act a part. That is both how Crowley performs "demonicness"-- with the Odegra scene itself a perfect example-- and also how Crowley and Aziraphale behave performatively together in public to fool Heaven and Hell and hide their relationship.
Additionally, performance and act are words that can be, on another level, sexually euphemistic, and Crowley and Aziraphale both use act in that way in the Chateauneuf-de-Pape scene of The Blitz, Part 2. It somehow gets even better, though, because hiding their relationship is not the only reason why they have a secret language. Another way Odegra can also be defined gets into that and that's when we take into account how their wordplay is big on the words contained within words-- something used not just in their language but in the show itself, beginning with, as we've looked at in other metas, its opening shot of the word 'war' within the word 'warning'.
Odegra contains ode and gra. An ode is a lyrical poem and a poem is wordplay. Odes are specifically written in tribute to someone or something. That is what they're doing when they use their secret birdsong and why they use it when alone in addition to in public; its born both out of the need to be able to speak to one another in a coded way when they might be overheard and out of flirtation and combines the two. One of the most famous odes in existence is Keats' "Ode to a Nightingale," which is also a word that we have seen that they use as shorthand for their language and for how they feel about each other.
As for the gra part of Odegra? It's a Polish word for game (as in, to play a game... like, say, a wordplay game.) But, also...
...gra is an Irish word for love.
Odegra, in Ineffable Husbands Speak, actually means secret love language.
Some demons torture and murder-- Crowley hijacks plans for Freeways of Love out of transportation-related innuendo amusement, remakes them into a soppy apple-heart-looking thing for his boyfriend, and passes them off as an evil work assignment, ok? 😂
The M25 in image forms "the dread (a subtle suggestion for the demons in there *snicker*) sigil Odegra in the language of The Dark Priesthood of Ancient Mu" aka Nightingale Speak/Odegra/Whatever They Actually Call It, if they call it anything at all... what we've been calling Ineffable Husbands Speak. For why Crowley is jokingly referring to their secret language in this way, let's start with Mu...
If, in the GO universe, dinosaurs basically don't exist and The Earth is only a little over 6,000 years old, it's doubtful that there's anything to the Lost Continent of Atlantis, sometimes referred to as Mu or Lemuria. Crowley would know, since he's been on Earth since The Beginning and, since he's trolling the demons with this presentation, he's likely pretending that Mu existed, knowing that the demons won't know the difference.
When referring to The Lost Continent idea, Mu comes from Lemuria, which is what the theorized continent was named because it derived as a way of trying to explain fossils of lemurs that were found in spots people didn't think fit with what they knew of history at the time. All of this was discredited scientifically prior to when Crowley is making the presentation but Lemuria is popular with occultists. It sounded satanic to reference it in the presentation, which is probably how Crowley arrived at using it-- but it seems he really did for the demonicness on the surface but for its other meaning on a hidden language level. Mu/Lemuria/Atlantis is not the only definition of Mu and it's really the other one that Crowley is referencing. The Ancient Mu to whom Crowley is really referring is him and Aziraphale-- extremely old beings with a fondness for the other Mu-- the Greek letter that became what we now call today the letter M.
Mu evolved from the ancient Egyptian hieroglyph meaning water and, then, the Phoenician word for water. Anything related to water/the sea/fish, etc.., as we've looked at before, is a sexual metaphor and related to orgasm in Ineffable Husbands Speak, rooted in Aziraphale using oysters euphemistically to ask Crowley to bed for the first time in ancient Rome. The ancient Greeks eventually turned Mu into the letter M, which Crowley and Aziraphale use often and with a lot of intentionality as a word that has existed in basically all languages since the beginning of time: mmm, the sound of human pleasure and satiation, as we looked at in the Crowley & Plosives meta. The Ancient Mu = Crowley and Aziraphale, who are really old, longtime sailors together on The Sea of Mmm.🐟
[An aside but M is also the name of James Bond's boss. Crowley is a big Bond fan and, we speculate, was likely an allied spy during WW2 so maybe there's something in here as well to add to the idea that Crowley influenced Bond a bit.]
Mu has had different pronunciations but the most common one is homophonic for moo, which is the sound of the milk-producing cow. I don't think further detail is really needed on that one...
Mu can also be pronounced at times like the French moue, which comes from an early meaning of lips and evolved into meaning someone pouting. Crowley busts out a moue a lot-- sometimes genuinely, sometimes in jest.
Finally, mu is the Greek root of the word for something Crowley and Aziraphale both enjoy (and both like to speak about euphemistically at times): music.
The Dark Priesthood bit is pure blasphemy. Crowley and Aziraphale are, technically, members of opposing religious orders. Aziraphale is an angel of God, which is more or less akin to a human priest, while Crowley is, technically, a dark priest/diabolical minister. Religious trauma and conflicts for days aside, they're both more pagans of the good times, as Irish God Hozier would call it, with a yen for equating the sexual with the spiritual in their wordplay.
In S2, we have a parallel to the Odegra scene and others like it with entries shown to us in a publication of Hell--'Demon's Guide to Angelic Beings Who Walk the Earth'-- in which Crowley and Aziraphale wrote each other spicy love letters in their language and published them under the noses of Heaven & Hell without anyone ever catching on. In those entries, they both refer to each other using different religious terms (guru, different ancient gods, a particularly 'hot priest' turn through the etymology of bishop...). There's also, of course, that priests in many religions take a vow of celibacy, which then makes it more amusing to refer to themselves as a priesthood in wordplay referring to themselves as lovers.
Etymologically, the word priest comes from the Greek presbyteros, which means elder/old/venerable so, like their use of ancient, it's also something of a play on how they are quite literally older than dirt and also that they've been a thing for awhile now.
In addition to signifying a group, a hood is also both clothing that shields one from the rain and what we call the canopy covering of a car.
Crowley is making it sound in his presentation to the demons that Odegra means something evil and demonic in an ancient language of satanic priests when, really, it's a word he made up for his and Aziraphale's spicy and romantic little language and they're not devil-worshippers but devout members of The Church of The Vavoom.
The Dark Priesthood... Dark is a fun word by their rules because it's a word they could probably say a lot in public since it sounds all demonic but we have seen that their language is built, in part, around words within other words and also uses a lot of French so Dark = Dark and D'Ark. It actually refers to The Ark or is Of The Ark, which we can take as a reference to the events of The Flood. Since The Flood is referenced in S2 in the Job minisode and keeps coming up in other places (and since we've seen precious little of it so far), it's potentially another hint that all that rain-sheltering canopy vavooming Crowley was going on about in S2 was he and Aziraphale during The Flood and that we might see that in S3.
It sounds like if one of them says dark, they're actually referencing-- at least, in part-- The Vavoom kiss. Like Crowley was, on one level of what he said, in 1941:
In the book, the Odegra stuff is the same but for the word dark-- it's The Black Priesthood of Ancient Mu instead. The word black is also in their wordplay in the show, though, and shows up in the same scene in 1941 as Crowley saying "shades of... dark grey." The word black contains the word lac, the substance secreted by an insect that is used as shellac. Lac is also the French word for lake. One of you asked me to word out The Blitz, Part 2's Chateauneuf-de-Pape scene so we can talk more about how Crowley uses black in that scene in that meta down the line. We're actually not yet done with Odegra, though, because...
Odegra also can be pronounced like "Eau de grah." Eau is French for water-- so, it would be "water of grah"/"grah water" when mixing French in. Grah is a fascinatingly Good Omens-y word... In German, it's a variant word for gray. In Slovenian? It means pea. (Frozen peas!) In Croatian? Beans and bean soup. Peas and beans are both seeds, which occur a lot in their speak and are going to be their own meta at some point, since quite a few of you want me to write about the 'Seeds of Destruction' scene in S1. In Hindi and Nepali, it means planet-- akin to world...
The especially damn one, though, is that, in Albanian, grah means *both* to rattle and to roar. Serpents rattle. Lions roar. Crowley is both. Rather hilariously, he even roared as a lion once while shapeshifted into a snake which.... isn't quite to what this wordplay would be referring lol... but it adds additional humor to that scene.
So you say, Crowley... Anyway, lastly, in Sanskrit, grah also means: to seize, to take, and to hold. Mmm...
Hail The Great Beast, Devourer of Worlds:
Hail: Besides hailing someone in the worshipful way Crowley suggests here, there's hail-- hard rain. Within hail: hai, a kind of keelboat and also the word for shark in several languages (Finnish and Estonian, among them) and ail, homophone: ale aka alcohol. You also used to (pre-Uber/Lyft, etc.)-- and can often still-- hail transportation, like a cab... an extra funny pun since it's used during Crowley's M25 presentation.
Great: The original meanings (some of which obviously still exist now) were big, massive, thick, and coarse. Rooted in ghreu, which meant to rub and to grind.
Great: Contains gre and eat. Gre, in Welsh, means all of these: a stud of horses, a flock and a herd. So, there's the horses, ducks, birds and other animals that show up in their speak and the show itself. In the Old French, gre meant pleasure and goodwill and, in Middle English, it meant kindness, understanding and satisfaction. It's also connected to the word gray in Old Scottish Gaelic. The eat bit is self-evident-- a nod to all the food used euphemistically in their speak (and the real food they do enjoy together as well.)
Crowley also uses great in summary of he and Aziraphale in S2 when he dryly tells Maggie how much he and Aziraphale talk-- but uses their language, which she obviously doesn't understand, to do so because, honestly, Maggie telling Crowley that he doesn't know how communicate in a relationship is about the same thing as it would be if Muriel sat him down and said he needed to listen to them when it comes to their superior knowledge of sexual innuendo. It's ridiculous. ("I say something brilliant and he says something unintentionally funny back. It's great." Rill = a stream; tent = canopy, etc..)
The Great Beast... Beast: Contains be, homophone: bee, and east. Bees, as we learned in S2, are angels. Aziraphale is Crowley's angel and The Angel of the Eastern Gate, whose desk is in the Eastern part of the compass bookshop, which is also the direction of the arrow being pointed by the bookshop's Cupid sculpture in S1. The Great Beast = Aziraphale.
"The beast with two backs" has also been euphemistic for sex since the 1500s and was immortalized by Shakespeare in Othello... and, by that, we mean was probably immortalized by Crowley in Othello lol... A beast has also long been a flirty thing to call someone who uses lewd and lascivious language.
GIF by aftermath-meme
Devourer of Worlds:
Devourer: We know what this is lol but just to fine print it here... Devour comes from the Latin devolare, meaning both to swallow down and to accept eagerly. Earliest forms contain the same meanings we have today for the word: to entirely consume; to eat ravenously.
By the early 1600s, devour evolved to also mean to take in hungrily with the eyes. I suppose here is where it might be funny to also point out that both ravenous and swallow are words that are also related to birds.
World: Often relates to the state of existence of human beings. Sometimes used in religious settings by humans to differentiate between the secular world and Earth versus Heaven and the world of the afterlife-- the "worldly affairs" of Earth. Can sometimes refer to the celestial-- "other worlds." The universe is another name for the world-- a system of created things, one started by Crowley and Aziraphale themselves. Also: homophonic for whirled: a swirling of something-- usually, of a mind or of water, like a whirlpool.
A world, though, can just be a person's own life and the people in it, and a romantic way of referring to your partner. You could, for instance, toast the world of the planet you just helped save and also be toasting one another-- your own, mutual, private world-- at the same time, as many of us suspect was the case here:
Crowley also says that the motorists, as they "grumble" along the highway will be "like water on a prayer wheel, grinding out an endless fog of low-grade evil that will encircle the whole of London." There is a bit of wordplay in here as well.
Grumble: Means to complain in a low voice but also originally had the additional meaning of the word within it that evolved into a separate word-- to rumble, as in to make a low, rumbling sound or murmur. While these hypothetical motorists are rumbling their way around The Freeway of Love, they're doing so like water on a prayer wheel.
Crowley knows that not a soul in the room knows what a Tibetan prayer wheel is or what it is meant to do. It just sounds like stuff the demons would think is an appropriately evil way to feel. The other part of the joke is that the term prayer wheel is actually misleading and a mistranslation of the Tibetan. Mantras, not prayers, are put on paper inside the wheel (which is cylindrical, not really even round-wheel-shaped, though it does go around) while a mantra or two is usually printed on the outside of the wheel. It's more about visualization than prayer-- which goes with how this flashback scene is tied to Crowley literally visualizing and willing himself and the burning Bentley through the M25 ring of fire.
It's the height of irony because the idea is that anytime someone turns a prayer wheel and focuses on the positive energy they are generating from doing so and thinking on or saying the mantras it contains, they're actually sending out positive energy to everyone around them. Crowley is giving a presentation in which he's claiming that these motorists on the M25 would be spreading negative energy because they'd be stuck in an exercise as pointless as spinning a prayer wheel when, in actuality, he's thinking about how the grumps in Hell could use some prayer wheels being spun in their direction.
On an euphemistic level, though, Crowley, is in his happy place being metaphorical water on a metaphorical prayer wheel. More sexuality-as-spirituality blasphemy at play with that and also a nod to how a lot of how he and Aziraphale are living is closer in line with Buddhist teachings than with other religions. S2 highlights that a bit, showing both Crowley and Aziraphale employing mudras (both inside and outside of performing miracles) and the lotus flower mandala rug they have on the floor to cover up The Heavenly Zoom of Discorporation, etc...
These motorists will be grinding out (does not need further explanation lol, other than to point out that you also grind seeds/pulses and coffee)...
...an endless fog (fog in a sense of headspace with relation to sex; etymology ties to damp, in a possible nod to the 597 AD scene; endless potentially hinting loosely at edging, which is in another 32 scenes more directly so not really a reach; also: endless, in the sense of viewing how they are and feel as eternal...)
...of low-grade evil (original definition of evil pertained to "sin" and still does-- "low-grade evil" would be akin to mild "sin"; grade repeats gra and also contains ade: as in, a drink made of fruit, like lemonade. Homophones: aid and aide-- so, care and support)...
....that will encircle the whole (both whole, as in: all of, and hole, as in: yeah, I'm pretty sure ya got this one...)...
...of London. London is wordplay, you ask? Oh, yes, seems to be. It's also in 'Demon's Guide...' as well, likely because...
London: contains lon and don. A don, among other things, is the formal Spanish title for a gentleman. Lon is an Irish word for blackbird and a Norwegian one for a gently-flowing creek. (Yes, they are that specific in the definition on the water movement.) The word London as a whole comes from the Proto-Celtic Londinjon, meaning: place that floods and, for a little ocean-themed destructive sexual metaphor fun, the Proto-Indo-European lendh, meaning: to sink.
So that endless fog of low-grade evil will be encircling the whole of London forevermore, thanks to Crowley's demonic design of the M25 orbital motorway. After all of that, it's clear to see why Crowley dryly thought that a wahoo (a positive yay! response but, also, a kind of fish... so, an orgasm) was in order. Some jolly good wordplay, that. Instead, at the end of Crowley's presentation, Hastur asks a question:
"What's a computer?"
In fairness to Hastur, while computers had existed for awhile by the 1970s, they weren't in everyone's houses yet and he didn't get up to Earth that often. (Good on him, actually, for even asking a question in the first place, when most of them didn't.) While the joke exists to highlight the fact that none of the demons got a single lick of what Crowley just said because Hastur's back with a question on what was only about the fourth word of many that Crowley said, there's also that it highlights that Hastur and the other demons lack the language ability to work out, through language comprehension and/or context, what a computer might be. They can't compute what a computer could be, basically.
Crowley and Aziraphale have been on Earth since the start and have been a part of the evolution of language. They understand how it's a living thing. They know the relationships between root words, which many of us also do just instinctively from living, speaking and reading and they do on a level of being walking, talking etymological dictionaries. The angels and demons technically speak all the languages of the world but, because they don't live in that world, they don't really understand language... and they are definitely miles away from Crowley and Aziraphale's capability of playing with it to the point of having created their own language out of the languages of the world.
Hastur's question is the meta joke of the scene and so we're going to finish up here by looking at it, too, even though it's not part of Crowley's wordplay. Ironically for Hastur, the word computer comes from the Latin putare which means, quite literally, to think, as well as to prune, in a way that means to filter and discern information. The 'com' part of it related to the Latin cum, meaning with and together.
What's funny about the question from a Crowley and Aziraphale's language speak perspective is that the reason why Aziraphale must have lost it laughing when Crowley told him what question Hastur asked is because their approach to the word would be to compute it by taking it apart and remaking it into also having a different layer of meaning within their language.
The first bit of com and its connection to cum and to come is something they already use all over the place, for obvious reasons. As for the rest of it... puter, depending on accent, can pronounced as puta, which is derogatory Spanish slang for a woman who has many sexual encounters and/or is a sex worker.
To compute to Crowley and Aziraphale would mean to think and discern, sure, but in Ineffable Husbands Speak, could be used to mean spending some quality time with a fellow seamstress.
So Hastur, who didn't understand much of anything in Crowley's presentation, asked for the everyday English definition of the one word in it that Crowley wasn't using in his sea of wordplay... but which, when used in Ineffable Husbands Speak, would ironically be defined as a short version of exactly what Crowley was on about for the entire presentation.
And this is probably why if you asked Aziraphale in Crowley's presence if he was ever going to get a new computer, he'd likely tell you he prefers to stick with his classic, first gen apple. It's the only one that's ever truly been great.
#ineffable husbands#good omens#crowley#aziraphale#aziracrow#good omens meta#good omens theory#ineffable husbands speak#etymology#hastur good omens#crowley x aziraphale#mrs sandwich
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Finally played the TOUCHSTARVED Demo! Still thinking about it over a week later.
(Above: Steam banner image for TOUCHSTARVED from Red Spring Studios)
I love it SO MUCH. and i have QUESTIONS. my extended thoughts below the cut [Demo spoilers included]
General thoughts:
this game is SO up my alley that it's insane. local goth gaming nerd is kicking their feet and giggling
the music? and sound design? It's honestly incredible, even beyond the infamous Every Time We Touch cover (Which is how I found this game). We all have to be giving more props to the music/sound work, it absolutely punches the experience up so many notches. When a soundtrack is released I'm immediately keeping it on hand for all my tabletop needs
absolutely enamored with the backstory mechanic. It adds so much individual depth to the character. you can feel attached to your MC without them being a complete blank slate. I absolutely love that different MC backstories have you pick up different details about the characters. (My favorite is The Hound immediately picking out who the leaders are amongst the group, in contrast to the other MC backgrounds)
I wanna eat the backgrounds. I wanna eat them whole. They're so detailed and colorful and have a great sense of depth. 100000/10
Specific character thoughts/theories:
(Images courtesy of the Touchstarved character Lore posts from the Red Spring Studio socials. I'll be linking them in each of the character's names)
Ais:
Thank you, Red Spring studios, for blessing the players with the ability to bite him if you're an ass to him the entire demo. You truly know what we want
Lore seems to indicate that Ais came over from the demon realm for some unknown reason, and was possibly some kind of demon king or leader? Fascinated to learn what happens there
Ngl the Seaspring looks like it would taste good. My favorite raspberry/rhubarb tea looks just like the Seaspring water. Gimme the group juice.
Question: If Ais gets infected with MC's madness....does that mean. the WHOLE groupmind gets infected? Humans and soulless alike? That's a city-destroying disaster waiting to happen
CONCLUSION: Most likely to adopt 6 dogs instead of picking up the groceries. Least likely to let you have the car aux cable.
Kuras:
I do believe Kuras is the actual best shot at a cure/treatment of all candidates. Assuming the curse is some level of demonic, an angel's touch is probably the best bet.
Let me be clear here though, I do think he might just go "Well you can just like. not have arms" and take them. That is a possibility
Most of the other characters I can get a rough idea of what they want and why. Kuras? I have NO idea what his goal is, which is very frightening.
Twitter bio image does say "Repentant Angel", and that his fatal flaw is "his sins can only be repaid through suffering". Possible linkage to Lovent's fall? Or another major disaster?
its okay sweaty we all get The Guilt (tm)
If Kuras somehow gets MC's maddness (I have a feeling it may not effect him? but if it did) that would just. end the world right there.
CONCLUSION: Most likely to be the one guy you might be able to bring home to your parents. Least likely to put on oven mitts to take a frozen pizza out of the oven.
Vere:
I love Vere for being the character I thought I could trust the least, turning into a character I actually trust allot. I trust him to be extremely dangerous. He probably wasn't lying when he said his heart is on his sleeve.
Also, big props for having him just kill you in one of the demo endings. What a guy, I love him, no notes
Wait what he's over 100 according to his birthday post. thats, allot? older? than I thought?. okay yeah the lore posts mention he's a possible deity figure. not comforting
Vere is very fae-logic coded. Like, the words he says can be true and false at the same time. Don't tell him your name, he will cannibalize you for fun, etc etc ya know fae stuff.
i will protect him always
CONCLUSION: Most likely to fuck your dad. Least likely to be your new stepdad.
Mihn:
Mihn is much dodgier than the rest, but I think that makes them more trustworthy. They're not as interested as playing games.
I nominate Mihn as a secondary protagonist, since Leander, Ais, and Kuras seem to be interested in them quite a bit. Even Vere has a rivalmance kinda thing going for Mihn. If MC didn't show up, that would be the dating sim right there
I'm excited by the lore post and the implications that Mihn is from Lovent (or has traveled there? and survived?) and potentially getting greater lore expansion about the world surrounding Eridia
I think it's interesting that their strength stat is relatively low compared to the others, yet they're one of the characters that actually uses their strength in the demo.
Also, I think we see the least of their "monstrous form" of everyone in the demo (minus their ability to dodge in and out of shadows). I'm thrilled to see what their monstrous form actually entails.
Mihn would survive bloodborne. That's it thats the entire thought
CONCLUSION: Most likely to do all the work in a group project. Least likely to be chill during Mario Party.
Leander:
OKAY ALL OF MY QUESTIONS ARE HERE. I AM DEEPLY AFRAID. Something is absolutely wrong but we have no current ability to pinpoint what it is.
I've seen theories Leander is dead. However, in Vere's route, he mentions that Leander smells like aftershave. While this could be part of an extra-elaborate ruse, hair doesn't grow after death (Minus the appearance of it happening due to natural decay processes) so he wouldn't need to shave. However, I am betting on him being involved in some sort of un-death cycle.
actually I can guarantee his story is all about cycles. Has anyone else mentioned how his belt is the triple goddess symbol.
you know. the symbol of maiden/mother/crone. birth/life/death. beginning/middle/end. like
Moving on, the vast majority of his smiles are forced (Mouth is smiling, but there's no eye movement/crinkle that would indicate it's genuine). That is enough of a red flag but honey I am so much more worried about my next point:
WHERE DOES HE GET HIS MONEY. He's constantly buying rounds of drinks for a packed bar. It's briefly mentioned his clothes are nice. He pays for anything MC needs. However, says Bloodhound rates are "Free". Where does he GET HIS MONEY for all of this. Twitter posts from Red Spring point out he doesn't accept bribes (at least overtly).
WAIT I'M REREADING THIS POST WHAT THE FUCK ARE THE SILENT CRYPTS.
Looking again at Leander's stat post. The Ouroboros in the background is. Not comforting. Also, "Forbidden Magic"? yeah I have a feeling we know why he's not in the Senobium
Theory, potentially Leander is currently being paid by the Senobium to maintain lowtown/Silent Crypts order? I think there's still a connection between them. Like the Senobuim can remain detached while having ties to whatever horrible things Leander is doing.
Okay, in the twitter relationship charts it says that Kuras has looked out for Leander "Since he was young". Kuras probably knows. SO much we don't.
When Mihn scolds Leander for not telling MC to be off the streets past dark. I think Leander intentionally "Forgot" to mention that. I think he wanted the MC to see how dangerous Eridia was so MC would stay closer to Leander for safety. I think it was a very intentional manipulation tactic.
(Furthermore, did he actually cast a spell of luck on MC when he gave them the lilies from his introduction magic trick? Then bet on the MC living through the day?)
I do think Leander's surprise at MC going out to the Seaspring was genuine, since his spit-take clashes so starkly with his cool-guy demeanor.
I also have a feeling that Leander has been past the veil/shroud. he's doing something fucky and the veil is prime fuckery territory.
(Are we...going to get a timeloop story????)
CONCLUSION: Most likely to dramatically use himself as a human bridge over a small puddle (as an excuse to get walked on). Least likely to remember to go to bed after playing Stardew Valley for 13 hours straight.
Touchstarved game things I'm concerned about:
(I feel like I wouldn't be doing my game designer duties if I didn't point out my concerns as well. To be fair, there aren't many.)
I hope the bad endings get fucked up, story-wise. Since it's a horror game, I know it might turn some people off to have things go super wrong, but I really hope they do. I want to see some endless pain vortexes, some real Juniji Ito-style suffering. But I would also understand if the devs want to softball some of the worst outcomes for the sake of widespread appeal.
We all have countless examples of kickstarter games looking strong out the gate, but then falling flat upon release. While I have high hopes for Touchstarved, I do know the reality and intense difficulty of kickstarter games. I'm really hoping the demo isn't the best the studio will have to offer.
OVERALL:
I am rooting for the Touchstarved team/Red Spring Studio all the way! I'm thrilled to see where this game goes. I am poised on this purchase button and ready to buy when it releases.
#touchstarved game#here's my long winded thoughts on it#tl;dr I love it#the brain worms have me#im going to stop editing this post and finally post it
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@popqorn asked me what I know about dinosaurs.
Scientists no longer debate that birds evolved from a dinosaur. Almost all of them agree on this; they just debate about which dinosaur. (Most scientists agree that birds only have one common ancestor, so it's not the case that different dinosaurs evolved into birds. It's just one.)
Almost all scientists agree that birds evolved from a therapod. They just debate about which therapod. Therapods stand on two feet, have shortened forearms, and are carnivorous. T. Rex, Deinonychus, and Velociraptor are all therapods. Scientists don't think any of those evolved into birds.
If you don't know Deinonychus--you probably do, actually. The "Velociraptors" in Jurassic Park are actually Deinonychus. Velociraptors were about the size of chickens.
Do not tell children that the Velociraptors in Jurassic Park are not Velociraptors. They will think you don't know your shit and lose all trust in you as a dino expert. And if you convince them they have been fooled for their entire tiny lives, you will break their hearts and their trust in the world. Some people do not think this is a dinosaur fact, but it is perhaps the most important one of all.
Archaeopteryx is important for two reasons: 1) it has sometimes been classified as a bird, sometimes a dinosaur. Now most scientists agree it is a dinosaur. 2) For a while, it was considered the ancestor of all birds, but now many scientists think that Archaeopteryx is only a cousin to the ancestor of birds (sort of like Lucy [the australopithecus afarensis, the fossil that was once the oldest, most complete, biped hominid] is considered the cousin to the "missing link" in human evolution)
A big reason that scientists think birds evolved from dinosaurs is that fossil evidence shows that many dinosaurs had feathers.
Feathers are very similar to scales, and fossil evidence shows scales that are more feather-like and feathers that are more scale-like. Dinosaurs had scales, but birds have them too! Bird legs/feet have scales.
Speaking of bird feet, therapods and birds have similar feet--three toes in front and one big toe in back for balance. If you've seen Jurassic Park, the big "Velociraptor" claw that Dr. Alan Grant draws across the young boy's chest at the very beginning of the movie is the back claw of a Deinonychus.
Birds have hollow bones. Some dinosaurs have hollow bones.
Some birds swallow rocks to help them digest. Fossil evidence suggests some therapods swallowed rocks. These fossils are aptly called gastroliths. Disappointingly, they just look like rocks.
For a long time, scientists had no idea what color dinosaurs were, but in the last decade or so, they have been able to find fossil evidence of pigment. Pigment (such as melanin) is a molecular structure, which is why this took scientists so long to find--you need a pretty powerful microscope to find this data. That said, even when they have found evidence of a certain pigment, it's not clear that they've found all the pigment for a given dinosaur, meaning they still don't know what color the whole dinosaur was. But the first pigment they found evidence for was a reddish brown.
Scientists also don't know what shape dinosaurs were. We know what the skeleton looks like, but some animals can look extremely different than the shape their skeleton suggests. A great example is a whale. A lot of the shape of whales is actually due to their blubber; looking at a whale skeleton, you would probably never guess what some whales look like.
Dinosaurs lived during the Mesozoic Era, which is comprised of three periods: Triassic, Jurassic, and Cretaceous.
There are a lot of different ideas about how and why the dinosaurs disappeared. A famous idea is the asteroid that hit Earth at the end of the Cretaceous Period. Evidence for this impact include a huge crater in the Yucatan Peninsula and a layer in the strata of the Earth. Almost anywhere you dig on Earth, you will come to a very thin layer that contains a bunch of iridium. Iridium, you may have learned from movies, is rare on Earth but common in meteorites. If a huge asteroid containing iridium were to hit Earth, the asteroid would vaporize on contact, and eventually the iridium would settle back onto the ground all around the globe. This layer in the Earth's soil is known as the K-T boundary, aka the Cretaceous-Paleogene boundary. The time of this boundary in the Earth's strata marks a huge extinction event.
That's about all I remember about dinosaurs.
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knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)
Chapter 4, In Which You Attend A Very Special Event (Part 1)
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
(you'll see full art when I finish because it's spoilery as fuck I realized (too late))
SUMMARY: You accidentally the whole Coca-Cola bottle summoned Raphael (or so you'd think) to Earth.
TAGS: meta romance, psychological horror, smut, the character is the player, Raphael is after you, you wanted him, you invited him to our world, he accepted your invitation
RATING: explicit
AO3
Chapter 4
“Buonasera”, Raphael leaned against the doorframe, taking in your appearance. "You look ravishing," he said before giving you a brief kiss on the cheek.
You could feel his light stubble grazing against your skin. Notes of cherries and leather wafted off of him. No sulphur.
Ravishing was perhaps too grand a term, but you put in your best effort. You wore a black dress. While choosing, you went through wanting to be extravagant, then classic, then unconventional, then elegant again, and landed on a little black dress because you thought the devil in a suit would like it.
He, for his part, looked immaculate (of course). His crisp white shirt was expertly pressed, a sleek black waistcoat around his torso. His trench coat hung open, and he played with his car keys.
That surprised you. You had imagined he’d have a chauffeur in a black peak cap, driving a long black limousine. Could Raphael even drive a car? Did he learn to drive for you? Is it difficult to learn to drive a car? You had no driving licence and no idea.
"Thank you, come on in," you invited, breathing in and out low and steady. Did this invitation hold any significance, like with vampires? "I'll just grab my bag and I am ready to go. Do I need to take anything? My wallet?"
You were slowly getting used to the thought of Raphael being real, you mused to yourself. Well, real. At least a constant hallucination in your life.
"Only if you are planning to offend me," he replied with a laugh. “And I hope you are not”.
Raphael followed you into your flat, taking in the surroundings with a half-pitiful, half-amused expression that said “I'm not saying anything because I am well-mannered, but I'm thinking a lot to myself." Well, yes. Not the House of Hope, not even an upper scale apartment, just a run-down studio, forty-six square metres, overdue for some renovation. What more could a young professional afford in today's economy?
Raphael briefly glanced at your open laptop with disinterest, then his eyes lingered on your neatly made bed with its white, slightly faded linen. A small smile formed on his lips as if he entertained a certain thought.
You had entertained quite some thoughts about him while lying on that very bed.
Snatching your phone, keys, and card holder, you cleared your throat and put on an "I'm prepared for whatever comes next" expression as Raphael's eyes moved from the bed to settle between your breasts.
Not in a suggestive way.
"Oh...you are Catholic?" His tone suddenly shifted - was it cautious, repulsed, or bewildered?
"No, I am not religious," you responded, shaking your head and taking a step towards the exit. Raphael didn't budge. The raised eyebrow at the cross around your neck hinted that he wasn't entirely convinced. "You mean the cross? My mother gave it to me for protection and… ugh, protection," you added.
“The age gap between us was not lost on me, but I never imagined you were still young enough to seek fashion advice from your mother," he remarked with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
It was clear what he wanted - the cross had to go. You recalled the black screen in the video and your own possessed, sickly face.
The cross stays on.
You didn’t believe in God (well, you did believe a bit more now), but the cross stays on. Even during sex. Especially during sex.
“Does the cross bother you?”, you asked.
"Why would it bother me?", he questioned. "Because I am the devil?"
Oh, there you go. Is it confession time already?
You remained silent, refusing to fall into a trap again. Let him say what he wanted.
He did not say anything, but he extended his hand and gently grasped the cross. Shit. Shit. Raphael traced his thumb along the edges almost as if he was trying to decipher its meaning.
There was no recoil, no burning, no hissing. Part of you hoped there would be. Part of you thought there should be. Then again, there is no Christ in Toril.
"Ah, the agony! It burns, the Holy Symbol, it burns!" Raphael made a half-hearted attempt at a pained grimace before letting go of your cross. "Yes, after you referred to me as Raphael twice, I did some investigating. A computer game devil, is he not?”
Referring to a video game as "a computer game" was a very authentic boomer move, you had to admit.
Two can play this game, Raphael.
"Well, I wouldn't say Raphael is THE devil," you said casually. "He's just A devil."
Raphael tilted his head in amusement.
There was something oppressive about his presence, the way he stood taller than you, the way he took up more space than he should have, making your apartment look tiny.
“To be fair”, you continued. ”He’s not even that. He’s a cambion, half human, one of the lowest beings in the levels of hells. He likes calling himself a devil for effect though; probably gets a kick out of scaring people.”
Definitely gets a kick out of scaring people. There, you said it. Now let's see if Raphael would drop the act.
You held your breath as silence stretched between you - five seconds...four...three...two...one...
Would your screams reach the neighbours?
Would they call the police?
And if they did, would the police even help? What happens if they shoot him? Will he bleed black blood? Why were you even thinking about that right now?
"Well," Raphael finally broke the silence and placed a gentle hand on your waist, guiding you towards the door. "Judging by his many admirers, it seems some people quite enjoy being scared. Shall we depart?"
God damn it.
You gave a quick nod, trying to subtly adjust your right stocking which felt slightly loose. You had bought them on Sunday but hadn't tried them on yet (which you should have done). Raphael noticed but pretended not to, his hand on your back guiding you downstairs.
The door closed and you wished it farewell.
Who knows if you'll ever see it again.
****
Raphael's car was exactly what one would expect from him if he did drive one - flashy, shiny, predatory; a sleek beast painted in blood red. The kind of car that turned heads and started conversations among curious onlookers.
The kind of car that made teenage boys gather around in awe, wondering how he could afford it and why he was driving it in this neighbourhood.
And so they did, and so you stumbled upon it, surrounded by admirers.
"Nice car, sir!" exclaimed one of them. "Is it a Maserati? A Gran Turismo, right? How fast can it go from zero to sixty?"
"In less than four seconds. Work hard and you might own one someday too, boy," Raphael replied. “More than one if you are any good”.
"Uh-huh," the teenager said, not entirely convinced. You couldn't blame him; you were not entirely convinced either.
You considered yourself a socialist and always voted left (well, you voiced your opinions more often than you voted, but still), but a socialist getting into a Maserati was a bit of an oxymoron, so you decided to put politics aside for tonight. Besides, you weren't sure you wanted to hear Raphael's political opinions on... well, anything at all.
"Or you could always sell your soul to me. Is that not right, Anya?", Raphael turned to you with a playful wink. Now it was your turn to say "uh-huh" and adjust your stocking again.
The gaggle of boys took their cue and dispersed as Raphael stepped forward to open the passenger door for you. You tried to sit down as gracefully as you could, but the leather creaked against your skin and your dress rose to obscene heights.
Quickly, you tugged it back down.
Without a word, Raphael started the car and pulled away from the curb. He was no stranger to this routine - following traffic laws, navigating through the city streets. He felt at ease behind the wheel, it’s not the first time he has driven a sports car.
Something didn't feel right. It all seemed like too much effort; the complicated act, blending into society, creating a false background. Raphael knew who he was, and so did you. So why did he insist on pretending to be someone else? Not even someone entirely different, someone so clearly inspired by himself.
He must be testing you, but for what reason, to what end, for what? Loyalty? Endurance? Ability to take psychic damage?
There is always another truth: there is no bloody devil (of course there isn’t). There is a young woman going through acute psychosis in isolation. You might be now banging your head in a room with very soft carpets on the walls, imagining yourself to be driving in a fancy car with a man you fancied-oh-so-much.
You need proof. You need solid proof. For your own sanity. The thing is, when you need to prove that you are sane, you are half-insane already.
"I must say, this is not the safest neighbourhood for a young woman living alone," Raphael said, scanning the area with a wary eye.
Oh, the neighbourhood was fine, he was the most dangerous thing around these parts by far. At times, you would encounter a few junkies asking for spare change or hear about your neighbour getting mugged.
“I am afraid that’s all I can afford. Have you seen the rent prices nowadays?”, you chuckled. “Well, you probably haven’t.”
“On the contrary,” Raphael shook his head. “I am well aware. I have several investment properties inside and outside the city.”
“Well, that is exactly why I cannot afford anything nicer.”
"That can change at a moment's notice," he said and gave you a sly smile. "Quicker than you might think."
You couldn't suppress your coquettish grin; his words reminded you of his generous gift from earlier - a cool grand handed over just like that. Not that you were mercantile (not that you ever had much of a chance to be, either); but if you were living in an imaginary world, might as well imagine yourself wealthy too. Socialism is…
Well, for real life.
"Where are we headed?" you asked as he merged onto a busy street. “Is there an address?”
"Why? Do you want to send it to your mother?" Raphael's eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead. “For protection?”
Still cannot let go of you wearing the cross?
"Yes, I do. Just in case you decide to keep me locked up in chains in your basement," you joked.
Sort of joked.
He glanced at you, and you couldn't help but wonder if you had finally hit a nerve.
"On our first date? I am a gentleman, an old-fashioned one at that," he retorted, feigning insult. "I'll ensure you reach home safely, plant a goodnight kiss and wish you sweet dreams."
Not exactly how you envisioned the night ending, but you chose not to argue.
“The address is Grand Rue 3, the old theatre,” Raphael said. “If you do not make it home tonight, tell your mother to check the basement.”
It’s the centre, the very centre. Nobody gets killed in the centre of the city. In the bushes, in the slums, in the outskirts, but not in the centre. It’s too much hassle.
Right?
“The one at the street corner? I didn’t think it was open.”
“For the general public, it is not”, Raphael said. “For the few who are invited, it is.”
You drove in silence for some time, and then you spoke up:
“So, is there a play there or…”
Hopefully there was also a dinner, you thought as you nervously adjusted your stocking, because you were so bloody hungry.
“You will find out enough”, Raphael said. “Anya, dear, I have seen the lace on your stockings in every little detail already, so do not bother pulling them up.”
You hastily pulled up your stockings.
“They’re new...I think I took the wrong size. Too large.”
"Well then, take them off. There is no use trying to keep them from slipping down, and it is quite a distracting sight."
You gave him an incredulous look; unsure if he was serious.
He seemed pretty serious about it. That’s some old-fashioned gentleman.
"Take them off?", you repeated.
As the car slowed down to halt near a corner street, you contemplated checking if the doors were locked but decided against it - no subtle way to do that.
"You heard me correctly," Raphael confirmed, leaning back and taking his time to examine you.
Yeah, okay. Okay. That’s a perfectly normal and a justified request, or at least you would act as if it were.
With some hesitation, you removed your shoes first and then gradually rolled down your stockings to reveal your freshly waxed legs. You tried to make it look sensual but ended up feeling more like a rookie stripper or a soldier executing orders.
His eyes were glued to you as you undressed. It was the sort of stare that makes skin tingle.
It felt pretty good.
By the time you pulled your stockings off, your panties were much wetter than when you got into the car. Raphael knew it, and you knew that he knew it. He had access to every dirty little fantasy in your browser history.
On the other hand, you were completely oblivious to his kinks; the only hints you got were Haarlep and the debtors in the House of Hope. It's hard to say which of those is the most disturbing.
"Such exquisite feet," he complimented. "Lovely nail polish. I do adore crimson red."
What was it about the way he said it that felt so... dirty?
Raphael then glanced at the scar on your knee and asked, "Now, is there anything else you bought just for me that keeps slipping?"
Everything you wore you bought new for him, panties to bra, except for the cross.
"I am just teasing," he chuckled, cutting you off just as your lips parted to retort. "We have arrived."
Raphael signalled someone outside. A uniformed valet appeared at your side of the door, reaching for the handle with his gloved hand. The door swung open with a soft click.
A cool gust of wind brushed against your bare legs as you stepped out into one of the quieter corners in the city centre. You couldn't exactly recall when this quaint theatre was built but if asked, you'd guess it was a relic from early 20th century opulence. Red bricks and stone columns stood tall amidst modern buildings like a stubborn old man refusing to budge.
Raphael casually tossed the keys into the air with a quick flick of his wrist.
The valet caught them mid-flight.
***
You were not sure what you had expected.
A password in Latin to enter, people in mysterious white masks, cultists chanting in circles around Raphael, hailing him as their new god, something out of Eyes Wide Shut. The reality was much more mundane. Still high-end, but lacking the unhinged allure you might have imagined. Just the private turf of the rich, the only odd thing being the electric entrance sign that read:
"MAGIC THEATER. ENTRANCE NOT FOR EVERYBODY. FOR MADMEN ONLY!"
Since you could pass the threshold, you assumed you were mad enough to pass the bar.
As you stepped inside, your eyes met those of an older man with a rugged face and a thin scar under his eye in the cloakroom. Raphael handed him his pair of identical black iPhones and AirPods, and then it was your turn to do the same.
It took you a moment to process the fact that Raphael had gotten himself not one but two iPhones just to pass himself off as a human, high-profile lawyer. You followed suit, handing over your electronic devices after one last long look. The last hour was the longest you'd gone without looking at your phone.
queen-of-the-bored: look we are all freaking out after what happened to your twitch
queen-of-the-bored: that’s some creepy pasta shit PLEASE write something PLEASE
“E’ un piacere rivederla capo! Che bella ragazza che ha rimediato!”, the man's words were directed at Raphael as he helped you out of your jacket.
“Vero, vero”, Raphael nodded in agreement. “E’ stupenda e non sa nemmeno di esserlo”.
What were they saying? They were talking about you, you could feel it.
“Non c'è niente di meglio!”, the man continued with a sycophantic grin on his face as he took Raphael's trench coat. He had a rose and a skull tattoo on his wrist.
“Beh, è completamente fuori di testa. Pensa che io sia il diavolo, in senso letterale”.
“Le più sexy sono quelle pazze, capo!”
Your knowledge of Italian was minimal at best. The only words you understood were "devil" and "sexy." Neither of which gave any insight into the situation, and that these words fit perfectly together you had known before.
The theatre was converted into a private club and restaurant, keeping the stage, but adding the chairs and the table and the sofas, the leather-bound books on the walls, the mahogany tables, the smell of cigars and whisky in the air. The only infernal or infernal-looking symbol you could spot was a square and a compass sigil on red velvet curtains.
Everyone knew Raphael.
A crowd of well-dressed men and women reached out to greet him; they exchanged words, smiles, kisses on the cheek (was that an Italian thing?), pats on the back. They looked at you as if you were beautiful or interesting.
Was it because you were supposed to be beautiful, accompanied by such a man?
Raphael’s hand never left your back as he exchanged pleasantries. He seldom spoke English to them. French, Italian, German, Russian, Turkish. The sound of a foreign language can be pretty, but it can also be eerie, discerning, the us-versus-them thing. Hearing them speak was rather the latter.
You couldn't guess who these people were. There is very little difference between how a businessman, a politician or a criminal look; besides, these three professions were perfectly compatible.
The debtors, probably; not literally in chains yet, but certainly owing something and in some kind of servitude.
The prime spot in the room was yours—or rather, it was Raphael's. The table had been marked, a lone initial "R" carved into its surface.
When the waiter suggested an aperitif, you selected a Negroni Sbagliato, because you thought it sounded sophisticated (and so did Olivia Cooke), Raphael ordered "bourbon and blood" because of course he would. You didn't even question if he meant actual blood.
As you chewed on your lip, your eyes darting around the room, Raphael reached across the table. His fingers brushed against yours before he lifted your hand to his lips. “Anya, may I make a small confession?"
"Yes?"
A soft kiss was pressed into your knuckles as he murmured, "I am delighted to have you here with me tonight. Believe it or not, I am but a lonely tired man in a dire need of pleasant company."
His genuine sincerity, the lines around his eyes and the hint of sadness in them disarmed you for a moment.
Who the fuck was this man?
Before you could answer, the curtain opened to reveal a small figure behind it.
It was a dwarf. Not the fantasy dwarf, an actual dwarf - you struggled to recall the politically correct term for them - was it "little person?". He was like something from a lucid dream: crimson suit-clad, slick-backed hair on pale skin, moving with an almost rhythmic grace.
Right. Twin Peaks. Could Raphael read your thoughts? Did he know you were thinking about Laura Palmer?
Or perhaps he too was a David Lynch fan?
"Welcome, dear ones," the little man said, his voice surprisingly deep. "I am grateful for your presence tonight. Some of you I have known since the millennia, while others are new to my realm."
He was looking at you. He meant you.
Raphael squeezed your hand tighter, fingers intertwined, an oddly intimate gesture, as if you’d been dating for a long time. You squeezed back, feeling comforted and sheltered in his touch.
“There are rules that govern this place”, the little man continued. “Rules, as well all know, are under no circumstances not to be broken, or there would be consequences. Same rules apply to everyone”.
“What are the rules?”, you whispered.
Raphael flashed you a wide smile, wrinkles in the corner of his eyes.
“Patience, he will tell us”, he whispered back. “They are never the same. If they were, would that be interesting?”
Consistency would be nice, you thought.
“You, little miss!”, the little man pointed his finger at you. “Yes, you, you specifically, little miss, little-miss-with-the-cross. Tell me, how well can you distinguish reality from fantasy?”
Oh, how you despise being the centre of attention. All eyes on you. All of them. These rich, strange, scary people looking at you and your naked legs and your weird knees and your…
“Not very well”, you said. “Not very well at all, I am afraid”.
The dwarf cackled, Raphael followed suit, everybody laughed, and you were not joking at all.
“Yes, she is remarkably honest”, Raphael praised, giving you an adoring kiss on the cheek. “A wonderful quality, is it not?”
“Shall we give it a little try, little miss?”, the dwarf asked.
Why you? Out of all people, why did it have to be you? Because you were with him?
"Come now, don't be shy”, Raphael chimed in. “There is nothing to fear in this place."
(Except me).
"Would you lend a hand, R?" The dwarf turned his attention to Raphael.
“It would be my absolute pleasure," he replied and positioned himself behind your chair. "Eyes forward," he instructed as you attempted to swivel towards him.
Raphael’s fingers gently grazed your cheek before sliding behind your head.
You felt the soft fabric of a blindfold being secured over your eyes and instinctively clutched the armrests of your chair tighter. The room was plunged into darkness, every sound amplified; the rustling of his clothes, the creaking of the chairs beneath you, the whispering and giggling of others in the room, and your own heartbeat thumping loudly in your ears.
Raphael's hands rested on your shoulders.
"I want you to try this and tell me what it tastes like", came the dwarf’s voice from somewhere ahead, as the waiter (you presumed) set the table before you. “Let imagination be your guide.”
Taste? Taste without looking? You heard the sound of Raphael picking up a fork and piercing something in front of you.
“Open wide”, Raphael said.
If you could say no when he would make such a request, you wouldn’t be here in the first place.
So open wide is what you did and let Raphael push something between your lips and onto your tongue. You sucked and then bit down.
The texture was unlike anything you had ever tasted before - bubbly, tenderly sweet with a savoury undertone, slightly slick and a bit challenging to chew.
You didn’t have the faintest clue what it could be.
“It’s an…”, you took a wild guess. “it’s a.. it’s a piece of lamb in some sugar sauce, I think?”
There were a lot of excited laughs and giggles at your response.
What did you try?
What the fuck did you try? Your hands darted to your eyes to remove the blindfold, but were halted mid-way by a soft but very insistent touch.
“Keep the blindfold on until instructed otherwise,” Raphael warned before removing it himself.
You looked down at your plate and let out a loud exhale. Tiny glazed apple pieces, arranged in this typical Michelin restaurant artsy fashion, sat innocently on the large round dish. Why did the thought of meat cross your mind? What triggered that thought?
"Did your imagination run a little too wild there, little miss?" the dwarf laughed. “Seeing things that are not there?”
I know what you are all playing at, you thought bitterly. And I know who the fuck you all are, Raphael from Baldur’s Gate and the little man from Twin Peaks and I am not fucking crazy despite all your insinuations.
“Dear ones, tonight we will serve five courses in complete darkness. Under no circumstance should you remove your blindfold; if needed, our waitstaff will guide you to restrooms. Guess what we serve tonight - at evening's end, we reveal the truth of it all”.
You said nothing while looking at the glistening apple. You never thought so much of an apple before; of how structure and taste and smell should be, of how it would (should) feel against your gums and teeth.
You kept staring at the glazed apples and thought of all the disgusting things it might have been instead. Brains? Tongues? Worms? A roasted dwarf leg?
“Rapha..”, you began and quickly corrected yourself. “Raul, just one thing, I… I do not eat human flesh”.
His response came after two slow blinks.
“Thank you for that wonderful piece of information. What am I supposed to do with it?”.
Not serving human meat would be a good start.
"Oh my little girl," Raphael cooed as he tenderly stroked your cheek.
(why do you allow him to call you his little girl why this is disgusting this is so hot)
"You don’t seriously think…”, he continued. “Even if I had such inclinations - which I don't - cannibalism is illegal in this country.”
Oh yes, of course, he was a very lawful, very rule-abiding devil.
“And if it was legal?”, you asked.
"Anya," Raphael sighed heavily, "Your questions intrigue and frighten me in equal measures. Now, put on your blindfold." He added when he saw your hesitation: "Of course I will do the same - same rules apply”.
You trusted him to do as he said, since you put on your blindfold first.
"As a warm-up, we have something that may bring back memories of your childhood," the waiter announced as he set down a dish in front of you. Your fingers searched and found the accompanying spoon.
You breathed in the scent, which was so mild it told you nothing. Even if it turned out to be terrible or disgusting, you still wanted to taste it; you still wanted to do rather than not do; after a lifetime of not doing rather than doing.
The first spoonful exploded with nostalgia – kindergarten, afternoon naps, finger paints. The creamy texture and subtle sweetness with a touch of honey.
Quite lovely, actually.
On the other side of the table, you heard a strangled gasp as if someone had just been forced to eat live worms.
"You don't like it?" you asked.
"I do not," Raphael responded gruffly. "But I am well aware that was the intention, so my compliments to the chef."
You wondered that a lot about him. The motherless childhood, growing up in hells, an evil bastard for a father. A chanceless, bleak fate, to be born evil, among evil, for evil, all privilege and no hope. If only Raphael would answer truthfully about that instead of spinning tales about some Italian village.
"I remember when we first met when you mistook me for an actor," Raphael mused out of nowhere. "That's when I first thought we had a certain… connection."
“I thought it happened way earlier”, you said, because it happened way earlier for you.
"Ha! True, I thought you were an exquisitely stunning woman the moment I walked into this cafe, if a little... skittish... which, I must say, adds to your allure. But then again, I've had my fair share of beauties... No matter. You see, I do have an affinity for the theatre".
“Oh really? How surprising”, you laughed pretty humorlessly. The ongoing joke about "I am not who you think I am" was getting rather stale for your taste.
"Indeed," came Raphael's self-assured response. "This place owes much to... ever heard of Antonin Artaud and his Theatre of Cruelty?"
"No, but it sounds like something you would love," you said.
"You hardly know me well enough to make such judgements," he said. "And if you're implying that I'm cruel, rest assured that I am not; merely just." He paused before asking nonchalantly, "Do you mind if I light up?"
You shook your head, though he couldn't see it through his blindfold. He proceeded to light his cigarette regardless. You noticed a dance of light behind the fabric covering your eyes as Raphael took an indulgent, addicted inhale.
A twinge of regret stirred you; witnessing Raphael taking a drag would have been a sight. You’d bet that looked very old school and very villainous. Your Negroni was long gone, replaced by overly potent wine which you sipped on nonetheless.
“The problem with art, Arnaud thought, was the distance between the audience and the artist. The safe space. The little cosy chair you sit in, detached, protected, at a comfortable distance; never truly allowing art to flow through you”.
"I thought the purpose of art was to explore dangerous themes in a safe space," you said.
"That's not exploration then; it's voyeuristic entertainment, nothing more," Raphael countered. “Art and safe space should not coexist in the same sentence.”
His cigarette smoke wafted towards you - sharp, biting, pungent with a metallic undertone not unlike rotten eggs left under the scorching sun for too long.
"Does it smell somewhat... off?" You blinked rapidly, trying to clear your stinging eyes.
You never smelled sulphur before, but you knew what it was the moment you smelled it.
“I beg your pardon?”, Raphael asked.
“The main course shall make you think of something - or someone - you crave for”, the waiter’s voice went straight into your ear, and you didn’t even hear him coming.
"I know exactly who it will make me think of," Raphael said slyly.
You took your first bite as if trying to drown out the scent. Spice, cherries, and raw beef so tender it practically melted on your tongue. Delicious. Sinfully delicious.
Just as you were about to enjoy your third bite, something warm and sinuous wrapped itself around your bare ankle and began to crawl upwards. Your meal lodged in your throat causing a coughing fit that rocked your body.
"Is the flavour too intense for your palate, my dear?", you could hear Raphael grinning.
His tail, you realised as it ventured further up. The nerve of that fucking devil! Groping you with his tail and STILL pretending he was fucking Raul from a fucking Italian village!
"So, as I was saying," Raphael continued, his fork scraping against the plate as if nothing unusual was happening under the table. "Artaud wanted to eliminate aesthetic distance."
You reached down for his tail underneath the table. The thing had a mind of its own though; it slithered away swiftly before you could touch it. You tried to grab for it again, but the sneaky little bastard darted away, causing you to stumble under the table and end up between Raphael's legs in your blind chase.
"By transforming the theatre into a place where the spectator is exposed rather than pro..." You felt his hand rest gently on your head, "Anya, may I inquire what you are doing under the table?"
You froze. His hand gave you a light caress.
"You know exactly what I am doing under the table," you managed to say through gritted teeth. "Looking for your goddamn tail."
Raphael's hand stopped in a half-stroke. For a fleeting moment, you imagined him pulling you closer by your hair until you were right up against his crotch.
"A tail?" He seemed genuinely perplexed at this point. "We may be lost in translation(*) here, but I assume what you're looking for is somewhat more... up."
Your mind conjured up an image of him showing you exactly where it was; unzipping his trousers and placing his cock between your lips.
Would you then open wide and give him a head right there, blindfolded, no questions asked, in a room full of strangers (and a weird dwarf) watching?
You would, wouldn't you?
You wanted to touch him so badly, just one touch to see how hard he was for you; just one fleeting touch, maybe he wouldn't even notice?
"I am delighted that theatre talk has put you in such a playful mood," Raphael purred. "I did presume we would at least make it to dessert before…”
A wave of embarrassment washed over you at his words. You tumbled backwards onto the floor, right on your bum; bumped your head, too, pretty badly and pretty awkwardly..
"I wasn't... Damn, that's not what I..."
Raphael chuckled (you hated him in that moment) and your cheeks turned red. How dare he think you'd suck him off like that, in front of everyone?
Your heart pounded against your ribs as you tried to escape the four-legged table trap, bumping into everything you could bump into. The world turned on its axis for a moment as you finally crawled out from under the table, your legs shaking beneath you.
The smell of sulphur again. You lunged for where your glass should be, found it, almost knocked it over, caught it in time and drank the wine. You thought it would make you feel better, but it made you feel worse.
The tail decided to make a comeback and patted your thigh affectionately.
"I...excuse me," you stammered out, pressing a hand to your mouth. "I need to use the bathroom."
“I’ll escort you, ma’m”, the voice next to you said, and you jumped in surprise. Was the waiter here the entire time? Did he watch you stumble underneath the table?
What else was here the entire time? Who else?
Christ.
Well, fuck, no, not him. Anybody but him.
****
"R's new little pet, aren't you?" the words echoed off the marble walls of the bathroom as you entered. You saw a woman in the mirror, tracing her lips with a ruby red lipstick that matched her hair, and she said: "Careful."
She was older than you, but not old, mid-thirties maybe, but she looked like a woman who was thoroughly done with her life. A stale kind of beauty.
"Why?" you asked, your eyes never leaving hers in the reflection.
She laughed, as if you were asking something utterly ridiculous. Without ever giving you an answer, she gestured to four meticulously arranged lines on the marble countertop. "Want some? It's primo stuff. You won’t get any better"
You've never tried cocaine, nobody's ever offered you cocaine, you wouldn't know how to order it and you certainly wouldn't have the money for it.
It's something that other people have done in the movies. The villains, the debauched, the corrupt elite.
"No thanks," you replied, "I'm already unhinged enough, I think."
Her high-pitched laughter filled the bathroom again. "Oh darling, we're all mad here. Absolutely fucking mad. Even me... Especially me."
"Who 'we'? What is this place?"
"The lodge? Why, a private playground." She gestured vaguely with her lipstick tube, as if to encompass everything around you. "His rules. His people. His theatre."
"And by 'him' you mean..."
Theoretically she could also mean the dwarf…
She laughed again, and you wished she'd just stop. "Oh, how sweet! You know exactly who 'he' is. The man who is going to fuck you tonight."
Okay, you hope it’s Raphael.
"I know who he is," you said, maintaining eye contact in the mirror. "But I thought Raphael had just arrived on Earth... I thought I was the one who summoned him here..."
"Summoned him? Like a demon or something?" She put another layer of lipstick on her lips, now facing forward. "'Raul likes them crazy,' they say, and boy they don't lie."
She had just called him Raul.
What the fuck was going on?
"The one to summon him, ha," she sneered, spinning around to face you directly, her face inches away from yours. “We all think we're so special”.
"No, I don't," you said. "I never thought that. Never. Because I never was any special".
"Well that definitely makes you the special one. How about a kiss, special one?"
How about what?
She leaned in closer still; her breath smelled of champagne and burnt caramel. You took a cautious step back.
"Oh-oh, look at her, such a tease. I can see why Raul brought you here."
That name again.
“Tell me about him”, you asked. “Tell me about that Raul”.
"Nah. No kiss, no tell", she replied nonchalantly while returning her gaze to the mirror. “Enjoy your evening.”
Next: Chapter 4, In Which You Attend A Very Special Event (Part 2).
(*) In some European languages, tail = cock (e.g. “Schwanz” in German).
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I feel like Narcissa Malfoy is rather overhyped(when she isn't being forgotten completely) as a character. She is the perfect example of 'the aristocratic wife' until the real world hits her in the face (and even then it takes a while).
Coz in the books she doesn't do shit. We have no indication that she has any sort of job(not that she'd need one). You could say she raised Draco but I don't count that because she did such a bad job at it; Draco turned out to be a spoilt, entitled bully (tho ofc Lucius equally shares the blame for this). She was pretty, came from money and a respectable family, and had no real valuable contribution of her own (unlike bellatrix who had the first 2 things too but was voldemort's right hand DE). Lucius has a constant presence in the books, we see different ways in which he subtly exercises his power and influence (ranging from donations to cozy up to fudge to threatening the other board governors that he'll curse their families if the don't remove dumbledore from the position of headmaster), plus his whole arc from one of voldemort's most trusted DEs (he was entrusted with a horcrux) to the pathetic situation we see him in in DH. Narcissa, however, has nothing of this sort. She's briefly introduced during the Qudditch world cup, not mentioned at all in book 5, and is an absolute dumbass in book 6.
Ik tht last one is controversial, but i was with bellatrix the whole time, coming to snape was fucking stupid. I get tht she thought he was on their side, especially considering he was with the DEs during the first war too, but y tf would u trust a double agent? Him convincingly answering all of bellatrix's questions means nothing, its obvious that he'll hv similarly tailored answers for dumbledore. I get that she was terrified and desperate, but it always struck me as odd that she never volunteered to take her 16 y/o son's place to get the task done (or at least we don't get any mention of this, and at any rate i don't think voldy wud hv oblidged considering this was punishment for lucius's failures), or if she already knew that this wasn't a viable option, she doesn't even try to help him out herself. Instead she runs straight to snape and weeps on his floor. This is so unlike, say, lily, who stood in btw her baby boy and voldemort. Mind u, the whole thing worked out only because dumbledore put on the ring and was going to die in a yr, she got lucky( imo this is lyk remus getting lucky with keeping sirius being an animagus as a secret coz he didn't turn out to be a mass murderer after all). U couldn't even say she was using snape too because she's clearly too distraught in tht scene to be doing any kind of manipulation. It all falls on the shoulder of her 16 y/o son to keep his family safe from voldemort.
She doesn't do anything throughout book 7 until the very end, where she lies to voldemort just to know if her son's alive or not, which inadvertently leads to voldemort being defeated by harry. This is only thing of substance she does in the entire series(and likewise i ll give her the credit, it was ballsy asf). As much as i appreciate her for what she did in the end, i think the fact that it took her roughly 40 years to do something of value is heavily ignored.
#harry potter#narcissa malfoy#lucius malfoy#draco malfoy#the malfoys#severus snape#voldemort#bellatrix lestrange#narcissa black#hp ladies#hp meta#aristocracy#pureblood society#death eaters
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The Truth of the Matter
A Four Part Miniseries
@wonderland-girl143-blog @gregre369 @420-hun
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Steve lay in bed, staring up at his ceiling. He had driven in silence the whole way home as he thought about Bob and still remained quiet after they all walked through the door. There had been a couple of times that he had gone into Radioshack for something, and he had thought there was something familiar about the man. Had that been the connection he had sensed? Did Bob know it, too, or was he blind to what the rune had been hiding? Did his father die not knowing that his son had been within his grasp? Steve wanted to kill the Harringtons. What was he supposed to do with his last name? How could he prove that he was a Newby? How could anyone understand that? The question was. . .was he ready to let go of a part of himself he lived with his entire life even if it wasn't real?
"I can hear you thinking over there," Eddie mumbled sleepily.
It was decided by the kids that they would just spend the night since it was so late. Steve had spent 10 minutes watching from the stairs as Eddie had spun around like a cartoon character as he tried to figure out where to sleep. He was clearly struggling to stay with the kids or to follow Steve into his room. Robin eventually joined Steve on the stairs to watch, and they giggled for a while to whisper about Eddie. Finally, Steve took pity on him and dragged him upstairs. Now, here he was, lying shirtless in bed with Steve with his cheek pressed into the other pillow and his hand placed on Steve’s chest.
"I'm just thinking about Bob. . . He never. . .he never knew I was here. Right here. . .all this time," Steve whispered.
"I'm sorry, baby," Eddie whispered.
"I don't know how to process it," Steve said, tears coming to his eyes. "I'm sorry, you can go back to sleep."
"I'm not going to sleep until you do," he said softly.
"I just keep picturing Joyce looking for Will. . .did he go through all that. . .only to come up with nothing?" Steve sobbed.
Eddie scooted across the bed and laid on his chest, holding him tightly. Steve cried into his hair and quickly cried himself to sleep. When he woke up, Eddie was gone, and he heard the sound of clattering pans downstairs. Steve rubbed his eyes and threw on a shirt he found on his floor before stumbling downstairs and into the kitchen. Eddie was sitting on the counter, sipping coffee, and wearing Steve’s yellow sweater. He handed Steve a cup and welcomed his kiss.
"I tried to cook for you, but Dustin wouldn't let me," Eddie said.
"Can you cook?" Steve asked.
"Well, no, but I wanted to do something nice for you," Eddie said.
"Poisoning him isn't the nicest thing to do, especially since he's your boyfriend!" Dustin exclaimed.
"I'm not that bad," Eddie pouted.
Steve laughed and stepped between his legs, leaning back against his chest.
"He loves cooking," Steve said. "He learned from his mom, and he loves to do it for other people."
"I know we joke, but I love that shithead like a brother," Eddie whispered in Steve's ear.
"Yeah, me too," Steve grinned.
"I heard that!" Dustin smiled.
"The others still asleep?" Steve asked, sighing.
"Very much so," Eddie said.
Suddenly, Robin wandered in, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Half of her hair was sticking up wildly.
"Coooofffffeeeee!" Robin moaned.
"And so the coffee zombie enters the room. Watch out, she's a biter!" Steve exclaimed with a laugh.
Robin glared at him and swiped his coffee. She hopped up on the island, sitting across from them.
"This is all very domestic, you know," Robin said, wiggling her eyebrows at Steve.
"I know," Steve grinned.
Eddie wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist and pressed a hard kiss to his cheek. Steve giggled.
"I hope you know that this dingus is my best friend in the whole world. He means a lot to me," Robin said to Eddie.
"You threatening me, Buckley?" Eddie asked.
"No, I just wanted you to know that it would break my heart to see him cry because of you especially since I actually fucking like you," Robin said.
"I actually fucking like you, too," Eddie grinned. "You know, you'd get along with Ronnie."
"Ronnie?" Robin asked.
"My best friend in the whole world," Eddie said. "She's in NYU right now studying to become a lawyer."
"So, you have a platonic soulmate too?" Robin grinned.
"Yeah, and I'm so fucking proud of her," Eddie said.
After breakfast was done, Steve dropped the kids off at their house. They had complained the whole way.
"But Steve, what about the address in Indianapolis?!" Dustin asked.
"Yeah, we can help," Mike said.
"As much as I appreciate it, you guys need to do your homework, and I think your parents want you back home," Steve said with a sigh. "I don't want them to think I kidnapped you."
"Too soon, Steve," Lucas said.
"What? Even though I said it, and it happened to me?" Steve asked.
"Definitely," Mike said.
Dustin was the first one to be dropped off, and then it was Lucas. Mike was the last one. He paused before getting out of the car.
"I'm sorry about Bob. . .I hope you find your mom," he said softly.
After he stormed inside, Nancy came out with. . .Chrissy Cunningham? They were talking and giggling on their way to Steve’s car. Eddie grinned and rolled down Steve’s window.
"How's it going, Big Wheels?" Eddie asked.
"I told you not to call me that," Nancy laughed as she leaned against the car.
"Oh, did you?" He asked innocently.
"What have you guys been up to?" Nancy asked. "I didn't think you liked Steve very much."
"Uh, turns out I do, very much," Eddie said, blushing. "Very friendly. Just a couple of dudes hanging out."
Steve smiled and leaned over to whisper in his ear. Eddie giggled before nodding his head.
"Eddie is now my boyfriend," Steve replied.
"That's great!" Chrissy exclaimed.
"Thanks, Chrissy, it's good to see you again," Steve said.
He stared at her, feeling a sense of familiarity that he had never felt from her before. He didn't feel like he was related to her, but. . .they were the same. Chrissy tilted her head to the side, and she looked at him in surprise before grinning, her eyes turning an inhuman shade of green. Steve felt his eyes glow, too. She was a fairy, not a relative but a fairy like him.
"How did you remove your rune?!" Chrissy asked excitedly.
"Oh, uh, a witch," Steve said. "You?"
"Same, I accidentally ran into one when I went on vacation with my parents over the summer. Although they're not really my parents, they killed my birth parents," Chrissy sighed.
"Jesus! That fucking sucks. My dad died, but I'm still trying to find my mom," Steve said.
"You're a fairy, too?" Nancy asked in surprise.
"You know about Chrissy?" Eddie asked. "How do you know about Chrissy?"
"How do you know about Steve?" Nancy asked.
"I'm the witch who removed his rune," Eddie smirked.
"Chrissy told me about herself," Nancy said.
"I didn't even know you were friends with Chrissy," Steve said.
"Well, we were friends when I was on the squad, but we recently reconnected," Nancy said, blushing.
"Nancy Wheeler was a cheerleader?" Robin asked.
"Very briefly. And I was horrible," she said.
"You were not!" Chrissy exclaimed.
"I was very distracted," Nancy said and looked meaningfully at her.
"Oh!" Steve exclaimed in surprise.
"Am I missing something?" Robin asked.
Chrissy shared a look with Nancy, and she smiled, nodding.
"Nancy and I dated when she was on the squad," Chrissy revealed.
"Oh! There's a lot more queer people in this town than I thought," Robin said with a grin. "Then again, I didn't think there were fairies or witches or an alternate dimension underneath Hawkins. I don't know which ones I'm more surprised about. I'm a lesbian, by the way."
Chrissy giggled.
"What are you guys doing now?" Nancy asked.
"Going to follow up on an address in Indianapolis that might lead to Steve’s mother," Robin said. "But first, Steve needs to drop me off so I can change my clothes."
"Me too!" Eddie yelled.
"You guys want some help?" Nancy asked.
"She can't resist an investigation," Chrissy teased.
"No, I really want to help!" Nancy exclaimed.
"Babe, I was teasing you. I know how big that heart of yours is," Chrissy said. "But you also can't resist searching for clues."
"Come along," Steve said with a grin.
Nancy grinned before rushing off towards the house. Chrissy's eyes never left her, watching as she disappeared through the front door. Chrissy smiled fondly.
"You guys are cute," Robin said.
"Thanks," Chrissy said.
A moment later, Nancy came out of the house arguing with Mike. He huffed loudly, flipped her the bird, and stormed into the house. Nancy slid into the back seat of Steve’s car with Chrissy.
"Having a little brother looks like a lot of fun," Robin said.
"Oh, yeah, you should try it," Nancy said sarcastically. "By the way, Chrissy, I was looking in my purse when I found this."
She pulled out a large magnifying glass out of her purse.
"I found that, and I thought of you," Chrissy said sweetly. "And I thought it would be funny."
Nancy smiled and leaned over to kiss her before quickly moving back again. Chrissy bit her lip.
"I can't believe I'm the only one not in a queer relationship," Robin sighed dramatically.
"You would be if you just told Vickie," Steve said.
"We don't know if she likes women!" Robin exclaimed.
"We didn't know that Nancy liked women until today!" Steve yelled as he drove off. "We didn't know I was a fairy until yesterday!"
"That's all very fair points," Robin said.
"My dad died without ever knowing what happened to me. The question you have to ask yourself. . .Is Vickie worth taking the risk?" Steve asked.
"Fine! Fine! After this, I'll make a move," Robin said.
"You know, Cunningham, this isn't the first time we've hung out," Eddie said.
"It's not?" Chrissy frowned and then paused. "You know, you do look familiar."
"It's going to come to you," Eddie replied with a smile.
"Oh! You look like the witch who took the rune off of me!" Chrissy exclaimed.
"Wait. . .what?" Eddie asked.
"Yeah, his name was. . . Oh, it was Allan!" Chrissy exclaimed.
"Oh, fuck!" Eddie cursed. "That's my dad, which means. . . My dad was the one who placed the rune on you."
"Small world," Steve said.
"Yeah, I had to pay a pretty penny to get him to do it," Chrissy said.
"Of course, you did," Eddie sighed. "My dad doesn't do anything for free, nor does he do anything out of the goodness of his heart."
"Do you think your dad's the one kidnapping the fae children?" Nancy asked.
"I wouldn't put it past him," Eddie muttered. "Fucking piece of shit that he is. Anything to earn a profit."
"Sorry," Nancy said softly and squeezed his shoulder.
Steve squeezed his hand and held it all the way to Robin's house. Robin hurried to go into her house to change and then talk with her parents. She came out with a bag of cookies.
"Mombie's famous cookies!" Robin exclaimed as she slid back into the car. "Oh, she said this is for you and to wish you good luck. She would have come out, but she tripped over the dog again."
Robin leaned over the seat and gave Steve a slobbery kiss on the cheek. When it was Eddie's turn, he was in the trailer with his uncle Wayne for the longest time. When he came out, he was wearing a Corroded Coffin shirt, and his uncle was leaning against the doorway. Eddie stopped, spun around, and hugged his uncle tightly before running back to the car. He slid back into the passenger's seat with a grin and held up a baggie of sandwiches.
"He insisted when I told him Robin's mom made cookies. He can't cook for shit but he can make some pretty good sandwiches," Eddie grinned.
"Hey, how annoyed would you be if I set my mom up with your uncle?" Robin asked.
"Not very," Eddie cackled. "I LOVE your mom's cookies. Let's parent trap them."
"Done," Robin said and shook hands with him.
Steve smiled and waved at Wayne before driving out of the trailer park, heading towards Indianapolis.
"Oh, Corroded Coffin! How could I forget?!" Chrissy exclaimed, pointing at Eddie's shirt.
"I don't know, you're a freak," Eddie said, and she giggled. "My head was buzzed, and I didn't have these sweet tatties so. . .easy mistake to make, especially since I didn't tell you my last name."
The older teens fell into an easy discussion on the way to Indianapolis. Nancy talked about how she thought she was a lesbian for the longest time and how when things ended with Chrissy, Nancy had been surprised to find herself attracted to Steve, to the kindness she witnessed him give to another student when he was without Tommy by his side. Nancy had discovered a new part of herself, but she didn't deny the other part either. Chrissy had talked about her crush on Eddie before knowing that he was the same Eddie from her talent show. Nancy had pretended to be jealous, but there was this understanding between them that in another life, Nancy would have been with Steve or Jonathan while Chrissy would have ended up with Eddie or perhaps even Steve. The discussions quickly turned into which celebrity they each had a crush on. Nancy also talked about her break up with Jonathan and how it went better than Chrissy's break up with Jason, how they were both there for each other afterward. . .
"We're here," Steve said.
Robin unstuck her drool covered cheek from the window. She blinked rapidly.
"Shit. . .when did I fall asleep?" Robin asked.
"Right when I was talking about heavy metal," Eddie snorted. "I'll try not to be offended."
They climbed out of the car and walked up to a small, boring looking gray house. No one would look twice at it. It was perfect for anyone trying to blend in. Steve stood in front of the door and took a deep breath before knocking. They all waited with baited breath, but no one answered. Steve knocked again, and this time, the door seemed to open on its own. It hadn't been locked or closed at all, though. They stepped into a one room, open space house with a door in the back corner leading to a bathroom, right next to the kitchen. A layer of dust indicated that a bed had been there once, as well as a couch and a desk.
"No fairy markings," Chrissy frowned, her eyes glowing green.
"Fairy markings?" Steve asked.
"Markings only fairies can see, a way for the fae to pass secrets to each other or messages to leave for their lost children," Chrissy said. "It's how I found my parents."
"You seem to know more than me," Steve said softly.
"A little more but not much," Chrissy said. "I still have so many questions."
"Yeah," Steve said softly.
They looked around the house and found nothing. Nancy took out her magnifying glass when she saw Chrissy glance her way, and she winked.
"If I'm going to investigate, I'm going to do it the right way," she said. "Thank you again for the wonderful gift, baby."
Chrissy kissed her before moving onto look for clues as well.
"Now all we need is a talking dog," Eddie said.
Steve stood in the kitchen and began looking through the cabinets as well as the drawers. He came to the last drawer and let out a holler.
"Guys!"
"What did you find?" Nancy asked.
"Part of an envelope," Steve said. "It's torn. . .no letter in it, but there is an address for a house. . . In Lenora Hills?"
Nancy hurried over and looked over Steve’s shoulder.
"Well, it's not Jonathan's house. . .so you're not related to them," Nancy said.
"I fucking hope not, I once had a sex dream about you and Jonathan," Steve said.
"What?!" Nancy exclaimed.
"Focus, baby," Chrissy giggled.
"Well, I guess we're going to Lenora Hills. . ." Eddie grinned.
"All of us are going?" Steve asked.
"Yes!" Nancy, Chrissy, and Eddie exclaimed.
"Lenora Hills, it is then. . . How the fuck are we going to get there?" Steve asked. "Not all of us can afford a plane ticket."
"Magic, sweetheart, magic," Eddie whispered in his ear.
#stranger things#eddie munson#steve harrington#stranger things s4#joseph quinn#eddie stranger things#eddie munson lives#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington x eddie munson#bisexual steve harrington#bisexual eddie munson#the party#lesbian robin buckley#robin & steve#platonic stobin#platonic soulmates#platonic with a capital p#nancy wheeler#chrissy cunningham#pansexual nancy wheeler#bisexual chrissy cunningham#nancy wheeler x chrissy cunningham#sleuthcheer#stranger things fanfiction#rueleigh writes
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Hello. Okay, so I'm going to start this off with 'this might be an crazy thing to ask'.
I just saw your post from January about Nana Shimura, and I feel like I'm insane.
I'm legitimately not trying to be belligerent here, but can you please explain to me, in your opinion, why you think that it is Nana's fault for anything that has happened in relation to her? I'm just trying to understand, because I don't see how anything could necessarily be her fault solely. Specifically when talking about the 'creation' of Tomura.
If AFO had wanted to get his hands on someone from that bloodline, if only to be a bastard or whether it was for an actual reason, he would have done it regardless of what Nana's choices would have been.
And I can't help but notice the fact that all of this skips an entire generation. Everyone is so quick to blame Nana for doing what humans do, I.E. having a husband and a child, and I feel I'm not really qualified to speak on that front because I never have wanted children and I don't foresee that changing at this ripe old age I'm at, so I'm not even going to go into whether or not I think it was wrong of her to have a family.
I just find it very interesting that people are blaming Nana for something that happened literal years after her own physical death. Things that happened at the hands of her own son. Things that would have never happened had it not been for her son, that she had no part in.
It's just that the way I see it, that man had years upon years to come to terms with what his mother had done in order to protect him, but in the end he failed anyway. Whether he knew it or not he failed more than his own mother did. He failed and he gave his fucking own child over to this horrible person, and he couldn't have been completely ignorant of that, let's be honest. Whether or not what she did was the right choice, Nana gave him up for a reason, and the fact that he couldbut possibly put himself in his mother's shoes, after how many years? Is more telling of him than it is of her.
Even if what Nana did wasn't the right choice, then what WAS the right choice? How was there a wrong or a right choice when you could never possibly predict the outcomes of whatever you chose to do? In my opinion, people are trying to pin everything on Nana when all she was doing was doing the best she could with what she was given, and I think that's unfair and stupid.
I haven't been following you for long, but I've seen your posts for quite a while, so I actually do respect your opinion, which is why I am asking you.
I really don't like the way Horikoshi writes women as a whole in this particular story, and I don't know if that's a track record of his or if this is his only work or whatever, I don't really pay attention to that sort of thing. And that's a whole other post for another time. But I just find it really weird that everyone seems to be coming after Nana while simultaneously defending her son, when her own son is the one who is committing these atrocities long after she is dead?I find it very weird indeed.
Sorry for the long post, I have far too many feelings about MHA.
First of all, sorry for taking so long to answer and thank you for taking the time to write this ask 💜
Nana Shimura is one of my favorite bnha female characters because of how complex and flawed she is!!!
Here's the short answer:
Regardless of the actions of the people around her, Nana Shimura had a responsibility with her son as a mother and with the world as a hero.
We all have to make decisions without knowing the outcomes. That's life. It doesn't absolve us from the consequences of our actions. It also doesn't mean we are evil, but simply human. It is in our nature to make mistakes and make bad decisions sometimes.
It seems extremely harsh to judge a woman for doing her best against an enemy that was so much stronger than her, but that's the whole point of writing a character like Nana. There are no easy answers.
What was the correct thing to do instead of abandoning Kotaro? How could she have won against AFO? How could one (1) woman do both and do it well?
Nana isn't responsible for what Kotaro did so many years after she left him, but she did leave him. She had a son and then left him because she needed to be a hero. We don't know the exact circumstances of how she had Kotaro, but many fans ask why she had him if she knew her hero job would put him at such risk. Or why she chose to be a hero over being his mother.
Logically, we know it was to save the world. It's just that her choice isn't black and white. She caused a lot of pain in doing what she did, even if she contributed to a lot of joy.
AFO defeating her was inevitable. Like her OFA predecessors, they were alone on their journey. See, it took Deku an army to fight AFO and his influence.
There's also the fact that Nana took Toshinori in after she left Kotaro. Of course she only did it because the kid meant to sacrifice himself for the cause just like her, but it doesn't erase the parallel between Toshinori and Kotaro. One got to enjoy her company until she died because he had the right conditions to be her heir while the other lost her forever because she loved him.
Sadly, her love didn't save Kotaro and didn't make All Might's life easier.
Any person with responsibilities is a person with failures. That rings true for every single bnha hero and villain.
The way I see it, people either have a reason to hate her or not.
Some dislike her 'cause she left Kotaro. Some are unreadable in their judgment and hate her just because she is a woman. Some just dislike her general writing or don't enjoy her type of character.
At the end of the day, Nana Shimura is still a tremendous female character. She inspired All Might himself (he who is hailed as the best hero of all times). She faced AFO alone and she died mocking him with a smile. She sacrificed her happiness and all the things dear to her in order to save the world. Nana passed down OFA and kept hope alive in a time full of violence and chaos. She is one of the best female pro-heroes to have existed and the only female OFA user. He was freaking jacked with muscle because her quirk was float.
Her flaws depict her greatness and the weight on her shoulders. Nana Shimura, everyone.
#shan's asks#bnha#mha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mha spoilers#bnha spoilers#nana shimura
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as much as i'm rooting for canon buddie and think about little else all day, what i want the most from s7 is queer eddie. i want an 'eddie begins again' episode where we get to see a young eddie already struggling with gender roles and expectations, this time from a blatantly queer angle. i want more eddie in therapy scenes. i want eddie to come out to his dad after another nuanced and cathartic conversation. i want eddie unapologetically choosing to allow himself to have the things he likes and to feel less guilt about it. i want the silly scenes too - pepa reacting to the news by simply trying to set him up with her friends' nephews, much to eddie's chagrin; eddie flirting with guys and being painfully awkward about it, but it still working for him somehow (because he's so handsome). i want eddie to have a boyfriend he smiles and blushes about and for the team to tease him about it, and for him to happily shrug it off because this kind of thing doesn't make him tense up or panic anymore. in my opinion his character is already perfectly set up for a 'coming out later in life' arc and i think if done with care it could be so beautiful. yeah give me 'eddie begins again' now please
#this would mean the whole entire world to me#i obviously want buddie endgame still and especially if we get canon gay eddie but-#i could live without it i guess is what i mean!#buddie#eddie diaz#911 abc#rambling
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hey AleRudy poly anon again!!
your girl is going through it :( So I was wondering if I could request Alejandro and Rudy (together) x a reader who is insecure about their baby face? It’s been hard lately and it doesn’t help with the fact I haven’t had a date before.
thank you!! Your blogs help me so much!!
I wasn't sure if you wanted your blog to be public since you forgot to go anonymous in the second ask, so I cropped your name out, I hope that's alright with you! Besides, anon, you're drop dead gorgeous! You're adorable to no end and I can assure you one day you'll find someone who will go through quicksand just to be able to go on a date with you! Just give it some more time!
AleRudy with a Babyfaced Reader
If I were you, I’d advise to not voice your discomfort with your baby face to these two men, neither of them take too kindly to you beating yourself up over something that is neither your fault, nor something that you can change just like that. However, if you want to be cheered up a bit, reassured that you’re beautiful, regardless of what may be, then go right ahead, tell them that you aren’t satisfied with the way you look. If anyone ever tells you to your face that you aren’t pretty then you have Alejandro and Rodolfo at your side, willing to defend you and your beauty. While Rodolfo may not be as confrontational normally, usually letting some things slide for the sake of being left alone, he will fight whoever dares to make a mean comment about you. You’re the most beautiful person on this planet along with Alejandro, so naturally he will settle for nothing less than the truth. Alejandro will just straight up challenge anyone who’s mean to you to a fight. He’s a heated sort of person, so it’s not too hard to rile him up. It’s usually Alejandro taking it up with whoever said you weren’t pretty while Rodolfo comforts you in the back. Sometimes the two of you watch a colonel beat up some no one, though. It’s fun, I promise, because Alejandro doesn’t hold back when it comes to you. Even if his knuckles end up bloody, he will fight for you.
If you’re just feeling down about your face in general, then the two of them will comfort you to the best of their abilities. Generally speaking, Alejandro sometimes gets cuteness aggression when you or Rodolfo are being especially adorable. This includes, but is not limited to: The both of you focusing on a video game, smiling at some cute animal videos or just existing in general. If he can, then he will squish your face. Don’t worry, he’s gentle with you, but it might hurt ever so slightly nevertheless if he gets carried away. Squeezes you, squishes you, pulls your face, pinches your cheeks. all the while cooing at you about how adorable you are and how lucky he is to have such a cool and awesome and gorgeous partner. He will pepper your face in kisses as well all the while he’s doing so because he just can’t hold back. Why would or should he? It’s you we’re talking about, and you deserve to feel loved and appreciated.
Rodolfo goes about it in a different way: He’ll have you internalize some compliments whenever you’re feeling down. Or on the daily. Doesn’t matter if you believe them just yet, you will eventually. Even if it’s just a simple “I look really cute today”, it suffices for him. Besides, if you’re ever in need of ideas as to what you could be internalizing for the day, just ask him or Alejandro, they have a lot of good things to say about you. You can also expect a sweet little kiss from him for every self compliment you’ve made. Or maybe a hug. Maybe five minutes of cuddles as well. He wants you to associate being confident and loving yourself with good things, so naturally he’s going to reward you somehow. It might be hard at first, but you’ll get there eventually, you will end up loving yourself in your entirety, that’s his and Alejandro’s mission. And throughout it all, the both of them will support you, no matter what.
#cod#cod x reader#alejandro vargas#alejandro vargas x reader#rodolfo parra#rodolfo parra x reader#alerudy#alerudy x reader#I've never been good at comforting someone but I hope these can help you at least somewhat#anon these two men would fight the entire world just to be with you trust me on that one I know them personally#don't feel too down about never having had a date before. neither have I. but someone out there will go on a date with you#besides don't ever let anyone tell you that you aren't gorgeous and don't deserve the best#those sorts of people deserve to get stung by bees and wasps and are not worth your time in the slightest#I hope I'm not overstepping any boundaries here but I do mean what I'm saying#you're beautiful. you're adorable and you deserve the absolute best in the whole entire world#and I do hope it will come to you someday!
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Jack Marsh (2005), Friendship Otherwise - Toward a Levinasian Description of Personal Friendship
#saw carnation lily lily rose by john singer seargent irl today. it was basically at my doorstep all along idk why i never went to see it#it was placed at a corner in the gallery. me and my friend sat down and sketched the paintings of beautiful naked people quite badly. paper#provided by tate britain. she told me about how she couldnt look her boyfriend in the face after a harrowing film about war. when i say the#interview was informal i mean the person who was supposed to be my boss told me let me get you a cider and then he said after#50 years of life he knows people are inherently good and it only takes a little bit of kindness to save this world. he said he tricked#his wife into keeping the baby and then he said he quit his job at a US bank to help people find meaning and in it#he would have liked to find meaning. instead he started climbing with his friends. he said he chews his cigarettes because its a habit from#when he had to hide things from people. the entire time i felt uncomfortable and incredibly enlightened. this is my friends mentor. she has#his pattern of pauses and expletive and penchant for ends-justify-means attitude. i do think im not very clever#but maybe one day i will love you enough to make up for it. i wrote code i dont understand staring at the final error i thought about how#we both thought of how when we're too old to remember the voices of our friends we would like to stand in the pathway of the LHC beam pipe#cut it open and eat light in the freezing cold vacuum (kills you long before radiation will) the invisible puncture wound unfolding dna#back to the start larger than you ever were. you go to heaven once youve been to hell. my friend is in my bed#practicing calculations of eigenvectors by hand and she is uninterested in a visual proof you are uninterested in incompetence#we catch a train this is your kind of burden you tragic hero wincing at that word you only do this because you have to. im the only one#who can. i am a coward in this for the fucking poetry. the visual proofs. the pretty numbers. an architect who was horrible at maths wanted#to be a philosopher and accidentally ended up neck in deep in 70th Error On Visual Studio Code i want to kiss your eyes before we say#goodbye we both know there is no love in the way there should be. I still have your dress in my wardrobe. i hope you make art.#you think im alright head-wise i think you fucking hate me i think ill never be so clever you want me to tell you my idea?#if you wanted more of this world i would have liked to kiss you harder. we cant both be like this. im sorry i cant be with you the whole wa#the love is gone if you have to ask it. his breath catches his eyes feel stiff it is -1.9 kelvin he is near the beam pipe i miss holding#his hand i miss her singing voice i miss his hair and i found the antonym of pain thank you for carrying me home.
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I agree that drugs should be legalised and not stigmatized but you're delusional if you think "most drugs can be consumed completely safely with almost 0 risk to the user"
I think the key here is the word "can" by which I mean that if consumed in safe doses and safe environments and from safe sources etc most like mainstream drugs (I'm thinking of like mdma, LSD, shrooms, ketamine, coke) CAN be consumed safely with very little risks. I know this to be a fact #1. because I've done a lot of actual research on this where I've read numerous sources from scientists doctors and users as opposed to just say taking in the abstinence only information I received during school, reading a couple Tumblr posts and assuming I know everything there is to know about the topic and #2 I've used every drug I just listed and more and never suffered any adverse effects because I did my research, tested them for impurities when appropriate, and took other measures to ensure my safety
there are obviously exceptions and drugs that just shouldn't be fucked with (meth and heroin is what I'm thinking, but I also know people who have consumed these once or twice with 0 repercussions because that's how human experience works), but if you're actually interested in learning more about the many ways in which you were lied to about how "illegal drugs" are somehow automatically much worse for you than prescription drugs or socially acceptable drugs (like caffeine and alcohol) then feel free to either 1. do your own ACTUAL research that does not involve trusting for profit rehab centers and abstinence only educators (I'll even get you started with a couple good resources) or 2. message me off anon to have a real discussion about the mechanisms by which the most common drugs operate and the ways in which they can be consumed as safely as you can consume alcohol cigarettes and energy drinks but sending me your half cocked uninformed and unnecessarily insulting opinion on anon is not exactly productive. additionally, I'm sure you can see why I struggle to see or believe that you ACTUALLY think drugs should be destigmatized and aren't just parroting what you think the correct woke opinion is when you refuse to even take the very first step to destigmatizing drugs, drug use, and drug users and actually unlearn all the stigmatizing things you've been taught
I know that it's a lot easier just to port over all the things you've learned from dubious sources that you trusted implicitly because they claimed to be an authority and not actually do the work required to achieve the goals you claim to support, but easier doesn't mean right
#thanks for trying though#messages like this are so interesting because what are you trying to accomplish here#oh fuck guys someone anonymously called me delusional for stating a fact which i can support with research#guess i better change my whole world view#i guess if im giving you the benefit of the doubt here ill say maybe i used the word 'most' a bit erroneously#considering there are like thousands of prescription and nonprescription drugs#but ironically people always talk about the danger of drugs without actually meaning to invlude prescription drugs#even when theyre talking about things like fentanyl. because prescription drugs are just thought of as safe#in a way that like lsd (which is extraordinarily safe) is not#but even still i feel that the rest of the point of my post shouldve overshadowed what might be somehwat of an exaggeration#youve just ignored the entire rest of the post in favor of supporting your preexisting worldview#so you can feel superior for some reason? like why else would you send this message#fascinating
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thank you for the tag @fxreflyes this is so cute, except the format is trying to hinder my propensity to ramble, so i’ve rectified this in the tags lmao
i’m over 5'5 / i wear glasses or contacts / i have blonde hair / i often wear sweatshirts / i prefer loose clothing over tight clothes / i have one or two piercings / i have at least one tattoo / i have blue eyes / i have dyed or highlighted my hair / i have or have had braces / i have freckles / i paint my nails / i typically wear makeup / i don’t often smile / resting bitch face / i play sports / i play an instrument / i know more than one language / i can cook or bake / i like writing / i like to read / i can multitask / i’ve never dated anyone / i have a best friend i’ve known for over five years / i am an only child
no pressure tags for @static-radio-ao3 @inevitablestars @itsjaywalkers @carniferous @orbitfalls @transsexualpriest @futurequibblerjournalist <333
#i'm like 5'7 i think. fun fact i used to wear glasses when i was like 11 bc all my friends were getting glasses and i wanted some too so i#lied to my optician. lol good times. don't actually need glasses tho soooo.#this is me coming out as a natural blonde guys….. like my hair hasn’t been blonde in a good year or so and it hasn’t been my natural blonde#in like three/four years but still in my heart of hearts i identify as a blonde. like i get confused when people don't count me as one#i have my ears and nose pierced and i would love a tattoo but unfortunately i have both a fear of needles and commitment issues so.#not sure if that’ll ever happen… would be very hot and sexy tho. also i'm one of those freaks with green eyes lol it's appaza quite rare#my hair is currently like dark dark brown… have been getting the itch to dye it again tho like a kinda reddish colour idk yet we’ll see#i had braces for AAGES. i have freckles in the summer and i paint my nails whenever i remember to. rn they’re a very chipped lilac colour#i think i have a resting bitch face but i can never tell tbf like it might be more of a resting 'dead to the world' face lmao#okay technically i don’t play an instrument anymore! but in the past i’ve dabbled with the cello the oboe and the xylophone. singing too#spanish and italian baybee although ig if this means like fluently then that’s not me but this is literally my degree it’s my whole brand#yes i like to read but also the only things ive read in like the last few months have been either books in spanish/italian for my degree#literary criticism for said span/ital books and… fanfic. so. also i like writing but it's my worst enemy rn the thoughts aren't working :(#i have many best friends that i’ve known for years!!!! in fact i've known some of my friends for like my entire life it's very cute#okay sorry for rambling i can never help myself and i also literally could go on icl like there was Some restraint applied here#kara lore#bc there's quite a lot of it in this one lol#tag games
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i'm going to be real with you guys for a moment. i don't think i'll continue following bsd much after this point
#i take back what i said about being excited for what's to come. i mean i am. in a very general impersonal way.#but the way the series is going. if the ending of the anime is going to be followed by the manga in a similar direction#is just very different from the silly armed detective agency vs port mafia authors with superpowers slightly high-stakes slice of life#that i originally signed up for. i've felt this way the whole decay of angels arc and just stuck around to see what happens#and because i care about the characters. bsd was always a character-focused manga for me#but the direction it seems to be taking is this massive epic entire-world-at-stake military scifi drama#where super epic power-up style ability weapons (and one-off overpowered nameless ability users are introduced and killed off in the same#scene. like the time manipulation catgirl) take the forefront at the expense of actual character focus and character development#like why are most of the (original) cast completely unaccounted for in what was meant to be a satisfying ending.#did asagiri forget that atsushi is the main character. why did tachihara's and sigma's arcs get cut short like that.#and frankly i feel like bsd started to take this direction from storm bringer onwards. the focus and scope of it is very different#to for example the untold origins or dazai's entrance exam or even 55 minutes. but if i were to theorise i would say that the scope of#the current direction of bsd must have started germinating during the 55 minutes light novel. if you can see what i mean#anyway more importantly i find that the tone is now entirely different from early bsd. it's just not the series that i fell in love with#so i think it's best that i stop here before letting it turn sour like jujutsu kaisen is to me now.#i have the manga (and anime) that i can reread (rewatch) up to the perfect crime arc whenever i want#i can reread the sskk fight of volume 20 whenever i want. i can revisit sigma and nikolai's chapters. there's wan. there's the light novels#and there's the wonderful fanfics and fanart and so many metas to read. that's what brings me joy more than the series itself nowadays.#that's all. end of era i guess. to an extent
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#star!keri#vent art#💕♬♪ ♡☆ I just want to be your lovin' teddy bear 🌟🧸♬♪☆#im ok i just have a migraine and im overwhelmed and sad and i got triggered and augh#i miss the color pink.#this whole pic was gonna be all different shades of pink but then i couldnt do it#had to change the colors#i tried watching lars and the real girl by myself and yknow theres the whole pink room thing#im trying to associate it with barbie but god it just . feels fresh. had to turn it off#seeing my abuser twice in a short timeframe is kind of fucking me up :) hello. why do u exist and why do i have to see it.#but hey i did use SOME pink in here?? baby steps??? i feel stupid but whatever#you know pink used to be one of my favorite colors#i will get it back even if its gonna be an ugly fight the entire time#cant get into the ring and complain about getting hit. or however ryan phrases it#idk if that applies to reclaiming triggers but rahhhhh#if steven can be fine with papyrus after 15 fuckin years i can be fine with pink someday too#lars wouldnt think im stupid. i mean i'd hope not???? maybe he would. its stupid#its a really stupid trigger lol who gets scared of the color pink. me apparently#i get the fight or flight response when seeing a color or clothing or hearing phrases#i dont feel like i can function like a normal person even after a whole year#i feel like i am barely surviving and my entire life was taken away from me#and i cant do anything about it but just sit here with my heart ripped out of my chest#while my abuser is . fine. and has friends and family and support and alllll of my TF F/Os#and absolutely zero consequences for what she maliciously had done to me. okie dokie!!!!!#i feel like the last 19 months havent passed. i feel like i am not in my body sometimes#like i am a husk and someone else is controlling me but im actually dead or something#i dont feel like time is passing. idk how to explain it. i feel like my life is stolen#i feel like i am losing years of my life to trauma. like the ghost of me is left behind while the world is moving forward#everyone is present and moving but i am like... barely functioning thru flashbacks and nightmares and panic attacks#and i dont know when im ever going to fully escape the person who did this to me
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Y'all do know you can't make Jason be NOT white without changing his whole character, right?
For other characters, yes, because their physical appearance are not that influential in their story, on how they are viewed by people, on their personality formation — you can have a black/asian/indigenous/arab/brown/latino/etc Nico and yes, the hate he gets will have a undertone of racism but at the same time nothing significant on his story, motivation or personality will need to change. This is also true for other characters: Clarisse risks repeating the "aggressive WoC" stereotype but the character itself doesn't change.
This isn't true for Jason, whose main character trait is how he is perceived by others and how he showcases himself to others based on that perception. (specially with how little effort Riordan put on him besides making him perfect-er Percy who's somehow also weaker and less important than him).
Let's not pretend a black, Arab, indigenous, Asian, Latin man, etc, in the USA would ever be treated with the universal reverence Jason gets from New Roma, you can't have the illusion of perfection and most of all, of invincibility they have about him when you see him suffering racism or xenophobia in the middle of a mission. Nothing in his life has ever gone wrong, that's his image, destined to be king, he is supposed to have no weakness on his peers eyes.
He is not trying to prove people wrong, he is trying to prove them right; he isn't worthy despite their prejudice, on the contrary, he only tried to make himself worthy to fulfill their expectations. He can't be a woman or an immigrant or have a visible disability or any other thing that strays him from a perfect ideal by western society standards, and be that same character.
#Different from the other white character in the series he was never questioned or doubted#There's a presumption of perfection with no exceptions that society doesn't give to us (women poc immigrants visible minorities in general)#His privilege (handsome white man with no visible disability son of Zeus etc) also prevented anyone from worrying for his well being#This illusion/expectation of him having no weakness/being untouchable pushes himself too far and clouds his judgment.#I headcanon he didn't even consider the possibility of myopia because that wouldn't fit Jason Grace Son of Jupiter so it wasn't an option#And you think it'd be the same character after facing racism? Because ain't no way he'd be praetor without going through racism#I think I'd love him nonetheless since I'm very weak to the whole golden boy tearing himself to save the world but it'd be a new character#jason grace#I know racism in USA is different from here but I know how different a “non-racist” white person treats me and treats my white friends#Also for him to not be an entirely different character if PoC would be incredibly disrespectful and racist on its own#It would fail to recognize the difference in how we are read (and written). I hate that a lot.#I remember that when Cody told Brandi “I see no color” she told him “then you don't see me” and that's so fucking striking#We ARE different. treated differently. if you act like you don't see it then you also turn a blind eye to the violence that comes from it#This is straying from my point I got a bit heated banalization of things I care about usually does that to me#Point is please don't change Jason on the very few things that man actually bothered writing about him#I actually think this is true about Octavian too. A lot of what he is allowed to do would not be possible if he weren't a white man.#Same for Rachel Elizabeth Dare. I mean you can work around making her poc but it will truly be pushing A LOT#Let's put it this way: a woc doing a street performance is perceived very differently from a white woman doing a street performance.#Specially in the eyes of cops#Pjo
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This has been gnawing at my brain since I first heard it
because
And the way Arthur says it is so honest, so serious, so earnest. He's exhausted but he makes sure to look at Merlin's right in the eye. Like this comes from the bottom of his soul and he absolutely, desperately needs Merlin to understand (and considering he most likely knew he was going to die at this point, well). Look at Merlin's face. There's such solemnity and vulnerability in this scene. It hurts to watch.
#trust me if i could have picked anyone but uther for this i would have#but alas i could remember no other wedding scene where they actually got to this line#arthur is so beautiful when he opens up about his love and affection#he has such a tender heart but grew up with so much on his shoulders and such a piece of garbage for a father#say what you want about bbc's merlin but they gave us top tier acting#also the contrast between the two scenes here pls#the first one you're looking at two clowns#there's nothing real about it even though it's a royal wedding#the second one is in the middle of nowhere with nothing but the forest as witness and it's spontaneous and honest and pure#and you know he means it with his whole being#and in the first scene catrina doesn't give a shit about uther's feelings she's just using him#meanwhile you can tell merlin's entire WORLD is being turned inside-out#and you know he'll never forget this#this means everything to him#now you may be asking yourself why i am comparing those two scenes they are unrelated#and the answer is#because i am unwell#bbc merlin#merlin emrys#bbc arthur#arthur pendragon#merthur
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