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herslvt · 1 year

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Miami || Taeyong x Afab!Reader

Warnings ‼️ 18+ Mentions of Alcohol, Age gap! (Taeyong is 30 reader is 22), Divorced!Taeyong, Unprotected sex (dont be like this), Public Sex (They're on the beach), Missionary, Oral (reader receiving), cum eating, use of pretty girl & baby, Reader is black like always 🫵🏾 I in fact use the N word at least twice in here so like I said reader is black! Honestly it's actually very intimate, I was gone make this like a one night stand type thing but I can't write that I need my shit to have meaning 🌚 this also is very long....

Song: Poundtown by Sexxy Red (I find that song so funny bcs what are you even talking abt 😭) the song is loosely referenced only once

“I’m out here in Miami, lookin for the hoochie daddy’s”

"Girl it's spring break lighten up" your best friend Aaliyah say pushing you lightly. "You're 22 with no kids and you're single but you stressing like a single mother of 5" she says making you roll your eyes. Preferably you would be in your hotel room taking a nap, but Aaliyah was persistent on taking you out to the beach. There was a party of some sort going on and where there were party's in Miami there was alcohol and dudes ready to blow a couple bands on pretty females. And that's exactly what Aaliyah was looking for. For the two of you to be best friends you were in fact polar opposites.

"Too many bitches where the niggas at" she says making you laugh. This wasn't really your scene and you definitely didn't plan on going home with any dudes tonight. "Well you can go looking for them, I wanna sit and enjoy the water" you say. She looks at you eyes kind of sad. "Y/n, I promise if you want to go back to the room we can. I don't want you to be here and you're not happy" she says. You smile at her. "Aaliyah I'm fine, I don't wanna kill your fun I'm fine chilling out here while you do your thing" you say making her nod. "Okay but if at any point you wanna leave text me and I'll come find you" she says.

Normally the two of you would never split up like this, but you both wanted to do different things and you both were okay with that. You've spent the last 2 days doing things together this was you guys time apart.

You walk further towards the shore sitting down. You watch as the small waves crash into the shore which was much more peaceful unlike the loud drunken partying going on further up on the beach. Your white toes buried in the sand, gold anklet barely visible. The smell of salt water and alcohol clouding your sense of smell. The cool air making you wish you'd worn more than just a Bikini and Sundress. Your braids pulled back into a low ponytail as to keep them out of your face.

"Is this seat taken" you hear from behind you startling you. You look back to see a man, someone you definitely did not know. "It's not" you say turning your head back towards the ocean. "Guess your not the party type" he says. His voice was very attractive. "Nope, I'm here with my friend, you?" You say looking at him again.

"Same" he says looking at the water. "Just got divorced and the first thing my friends do is drag me to Miami." He states making your jaw drop. "You're divorced! You don't look a day over 20" you nearly yell making him laugh. "Thanks" he says still smiling. His dimples showing, who would be dumb enough to divorce this man. "If you don't mind me asking, why'd you get divorced?" You ask.

"She cheated on me" he says making you frown. He said it so casually as if he was used to it. "How long were y'all married?" You ask now just blatantly being nosy. "You sure do ask a lot or questions" he says shaking his head. You frown at him making him laugh. "Dont worry, it's very cute" he says. You feel your skin heating up, thank god it was getting dark out here. Everytime he smiled at you you felt yourself get weaker in the knees. You said you weren't planning on going home with anyone tonight but he might be an exception.

You mustve zoned out because a few seconds later he was waving his hand in front of your face. "I'm sorry" you say making him laugh. "You're a very pretty girl" he says, this time it was your turn to laugh. "Hey why're you laughing I'm serious" he says frowning. "Because, you're making me nervous" you rest your head on your knees which are now pulled up to your chest. "I can't possibly make you that nervous" he says making you smile. "I don't think a guy has ever made me this nervous," you admit making him curious.

"Well then I guess I'm doing something right" he says. The two of you sit and talk a little while more. You talked about a variety of things even talking about simple stuff like your favorite colors and food. He made you laugh harder than any guys had before. Soon you get a phone call from Aaliyah. You excuse yourself and take the call. "Ooo girl who you sitting with" she asks making you look behind you. There she was standing at the top of the beach with a drink in hand. "This guy I just met,” you tell to your best friend. “You must like him, I seen you smiling awfully hard” she says making you laugh. “I don’t know, kinda,” you admit. "Well are you going back with him?" She asks. "Probably not," you say making her scoff.

"And why not!?" She slurs clearly drunk. "Because you're drunk and who's gonna take you back up to the room?" You state. You watch her shuffle around a bit. "I'll go back up to the room right now and let you have your fun, stop worrying about me" she says. You sigh, she was even more stubborn when drunk and you knew she wasn't going to let you walk her back up to your room. "Fine Liyah, but I’m staying on the phone with you until you get inside the room" you say. "Fine" you could tell she was rolling her eyes.

Just like you said you stayed on the phone with her until she made it in the room and whole time you were on the phone Taeyong sat on the beach patiently waiting for you to finish. When you finally hung up you sat down next to Taeyong again. "I'm sorry that took so long" you say. "Oh no it's fine I understand" he says. This man was a literal angel and you met him what an hour and half ago?

The beach was beginning to clear out now. The only people left was hotel staff cleaning up what was left of the party. "You know, you don't have to stay on the beach with me" you say. "I know, but I want to" he smiles. "Why are you so perfect?" You say barely above a whisper. You weren't expecting him to hear you but he did. He looks at you, lips slightly parted. "When I came to Miami I had no intent of falling in love, but you've definitely changed that" he says making your eyes widen at his confession. He looks back at the water ignoring the fact you were litterally staring into his soul.

He just so casually said he was falling in love with you. You started to get caught up in your thoughts. Did he mean it? Taeyong was a charmer, he had you under his spell with just a few words and a smile. This can't be love. You were to young to be in love or that's what you thought atleast. Though this man was years older than you, you knew that there we're clearly feelings for him on your end. You were 22 and he just turned 30. It sounded so wrong, but felt so right making you want it more.

You look around, it was now completely dark; the only light was coming from the buildings around the beach. The hotel staff now gone. The silence between you and Taeyong had been going on for at least 2 minutes now. When you called his name to get his attention he jumped a bit. Right as he looked at you, you pressed your lips into his. The way his lips felt against your was intoxicating.

His hands gently find placement on your waist as he deepens the kiss. His tongue slides into your mouth as you let him take control. Your arms wrap around his neck pulling him in closer. He pulled away looking into your eyes. His eyes dark with lust. "I'm not fucking you on the sand" he says, the tone of his voice completely different from earlier sending chills down your spine and heat right to your core. He holds out his hand helping you up off the sand. He spots an empty Cabana and pulls you inside.

"Are you okay with us continuing?" He asks as you straddle his lap. You nod but he wasn't satisfied. "I need you to use your words baby" he whispered against your lips. "Yes, I want to continue" you say. His hands go to take off your sundress. He starts kissing down your neck stopping at your bikini top. He looks into your eyes as he slowly pulls at the strings holding your top together.

"Please stop teasing me" you whine grinding your hips into his. You could feel him getting hard under you. "I want to take my time, but I guess I could save that for another day." He says making your head spin at the thought of y'all doing all of this again on another day. He pulls off your top playing with your breasts before going to your bottoms.

He flips you over so now your back is against the beach chair. He takes off your bottoms running his fingers through your lips. "T's so pretty" he mumbles rubbing your clit. The way he looked at you made you shy. You tried to close your legs but his hands stopped you. "Sorry pretty girl, can't let you do that" he says. He continues to rub your clit as he dives into your pussy. He clearly knew what he was doing. The way his tongue skillfully sucked on your clit as his fingers slid in and out of you left your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

One of your hands goes to grip his hair unintentionally pushing him further into you. Your other hand goes to cover your mouth to keep from being too loud. "Baby you're soaking" he says making you moan louder than intended. "You must want people to hear how pretty you sound for me baby?" He asks, speeding up his fingers. He looks up at you eyes full of love. The way your brown skin was glowing under the moon light and the way you tried your best to stay quiet and be a good girl for him drove him crazy. "Mm coming" you whimper he uses his free hand to hold down your hips as he works you through your orgasm.

You moan his name as you cum all over his fingers drawing him in even more. He didn't think he could have such strong feelings for a girl so soon. He'd been married for 3 years, he didn't even think he was this in love with his wife. The energy you radiated just brought a sense of calmness to him. You were nothing like his ex wife, you were young and full of life. You showed interest in him, you were a sweetheart. The way you looked at him whenever he spoke made his heart flutter.

He pulls his fingers out licking them clean. "Are you ready pretty?" He asks. "Yes please fuck me" you whine making him chuckle. The way you begged for him turned him on. He pulled off his shirt and dropped his shorts in a heartbeat. He slides inside of you kissing your lips. He was a lot bigger than you had expected, the stretch was something you definitely weren't used to. His lips kiss all over your neck and collarbone as you get adjusted to him. Your fingers tangled in his hair, his hands holding onto your hips. "M' ready" you whimper.

His pace starts off slow but soon speads up. Your legs wrap around his waist and your nails scratch along his back. The way he fucked you was like nothing you'd ever had before. The way his hips rolled into yours consistently rubbing your walls the way you liked had your eyes rolling and your mouth open. You could do nothing but whine and whimper everytime his hips collided with yours. "So tight" he groans burrying his head in your neck. He was trying his best to not come so soon especially not inside you but the way you gripped his dick had his head in the clouds. Before everything else though, he wanted to make you cum first. He started to rub your clit making your brain go blank.

Being quiet was long forgotten as you were screaming his name as you came leaving a white ring around his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm before pulling out nutting on your tummy. "Fuck" was all he said before collapsing next to you. Your brain was foggy. So much just happened and you haven't even processed it all. "That was the best sex I've had in my life" you giggle looking at Taeyong. His eyes were closed though he clearly wasn't asleep.

"Tae" you mumble poking his side. "Hmh" he responds. "Are you okay" you asks concern lacing your voice. You were scared that he was regretting everythihg. Regretting saying he was falling in love, regretting fucking you. You didn't know what was going on in his head. "Moment of honesty" he says. You nod letting him know you were listening. He looks in your eyes, "ive genuinely never felt this way about anyone before" he says making you smile.

"Me neither, but I trust you. I met you what 4 hours ago" you say looking at the time on your phone. "I met you 4 hours ago and you've given me more in those 4 hours than a man has done in a relationship." You say making him frown. "You deserve the world" he says. "And so do you, if I was your wife I would've never did you like that" you say. He presses a kiss to your now swollen lips, "I meant what I said earlier. I want to see you again and take my time with you. Not just that, I want to get to know you seriously" he says. "I'd like that" you say kissing him one last time.

Once the two of you get up, you use your sundrese to clean the cum off of your stomach. Taeyong gives you his shirt to wear. You don't put your swimsuit back on opting to just carry it. Taeyong slides his shorts and boxers back on before picking you up bridal style and carrying you back to his room which conveniently was on the same floor as yours. He spent the rest of the night taking care of you, treating you like the princess you are.

»»————> 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐸𝑛𝑑<————««

#taeyong #nct taeyong #nct #nct smut #nct x reader #black reader #nct x black reader #taeyong x reader #taeyong x you #taeyong x black reader #kpop #x black reader #x black fem reader #taeyong x fem reader #taeyong smut #nct taeyong x reader #herslvt

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fdrsamericanflagduckfloaty · 11 months

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i compiled angst abt TR + his sons because i. ... i got bored. and because it'll help me w/ writing angst when i have all of this in one spot.

im just posting it w/ a specific tag so i can find it when i need it kslkskd this post is also kinda long btw

TR himself - batshit insane

Okay so this mf has enough angst to fill. An entire. Like. Pool. But we'll start w/ the most known:

His wife & Mother dying on the same day just hours apart.

We all know how it goes but if you don't, his first wife, Alice Hathaway Lee, and his mother, Mittie Bulloch, died just hours apart on Valentine's Day, 1884.

And at the Funeral:

There's going to be... a lot more photos. The grieving is so intense I can't leave it out at all.

Doesn't this sound like an unhealthy coping mechanism? TR never really got the grip of coping healthily, but this isn't the earliest example, which I'll touch on soon.

It's beyond reasonable - and in fact correct - to assume he never entirely, fully got over Alice Lee. He never mentioned her again. Not on record, at least, and certainly not once in his autobiography. He mentioned his mother a handful of times at most. And this is where I say this part makes me feel nauseous because of how damn sad it is.

TR, as I said, never came to terms with Alice's death, and he never would. Over decades maybe he could handle a brief sorrowful thought of her, maybe a second. But I don't think anybody would be wrong in assuming he still could never truly talk of her. It sounds sad, but it's true. He never handled grief well.

I do think this is one of the periods of TR's life that you hear of but, never seeing it mentioned again, really enforces that he wanted her gone. He couldn't stand the thought of her. Which... do. Do you see the therapy that he desperately needed?

WELL if you thought this was it then you were wrong!!

His father died when he was nineteen. TR idolized his father beyond all else. He had a massive portrait of the man in his office and he always wondered what his father would do in times of strength during his presidency.

And TR admitting fear is a very, very rare thing, because you don't. Actually see it often. He'd be more likely to admit to a crime.

So for his father to die, and not being able to see him before (TR couldn't arrive in time), really, really left its mark on him. This was also around the time he had a spat with his then-close-friend, future-second-wife Edith in a small summer house. His father's death left him grieving and the argument left him. Well. Seething, for lack of a better word.

TR was actually able to acknowledge his father. That was the only difference.

But he also needed extreme help by the time Valentine's Day 1884 rolled around, and I am not alone in that thought.

I'd also like to mention that the argument I referenced above is never going to be explored beyond what is known: They argued, it was intense, and it ended any romantic prospects between them for years. Other than that? We have abso-fucking-lutely nothing. Nothing to go off of. Neither ever told anyone what they argued about. All Edith said was that Theodore 'wasn't very nice', and TR just said they both had tempers. Other than that once again? Nothing.

He also experiences even more grief later but we'll touch on that later.

TR almost lost Edith, as well, during 1898 when the Spanish-American war was ramping up to its climax of official war.

It did not get better. As you'll see, this was also when Ted was put under suffering, aswell.

*Cut because the rest is in Ted's section*

Even though it ended well, TR was likely getting flashbacks (or intense reminders) of what happened with Alice Lee just 14 years ago. And in those 14 years I'm very sure he wasn't fully done suppressing the memory. Being put under such strain twice doesn't do well on a person, nor their mental stability.

And now I'd like to mention: TR possibly having bipolar disorder.

Listen I'm not going to go in detail because I have before (probably, if not just send an ask that tumblr hopefully wont eat), but basically, traumatic experiences when he was so young, multiple injuries, almost dying countless times when he was young as he had asthma, and never truly coping, and honestly just naturally, he could have had Bipolar Disorder.

I find this theory interesting and it's very believable. He could be all over the place, smiling and ecstatic, swinging his limbs around, and then the next, quiet, gloomy. Suppressed. He never calmed down enough unless it was serious. Now, it could've just been his natural personality and behavior. But he was reckless, bold, daring, a risk-taker, and didn't ever really care about dying as much as he should have.

TR ignored his doctor basically telling him "DO NOT DO EXTREME SHIT. IT WILL HURT YOUR HEART. BADLY." and proceeded to be the goddamn president. Don't even mention climbing mountains and tough sports and putting himself under immense strain.

Hell I'd say it's worthy of a book (albeit short or not who knows), but there isn't one so far (as I know of) that focuses on that theory and goes in depth.

(But I do consider it a mild headcanon of mine for NATM purposes because I genuinely think it's something to consider, and hey, if you get memories, why wouldn't that pass over? Or I just like angst idk skkdnfgk)

Edith also suffered two miscarriages during the White House years, so the trauma of losing two unborn children must've hit pretty hard too.

i could go on even more about this sad meow meow bastard but lets move on. (Oh, the trauma I mentioned we'll touch on later, we will touch on near the end in Quentin's section.)

2. Ted // aka the one who was sort of forced to be the best

(also this mf was IMPOSSIBLE to search for. 'Ted' brought up words w/ -ted at the end and it took me so damn long to filter those results out)

This one below is in the White House. The two above are from 1898.

(the proudness is mildly concerning)

The 'nervous exhaustion' and migraines Ted ended up getting were because he was being pushed so hard at such a young age. I tried to find the book that had it (with no luck) but his mother admits that TR pushed Ted far more than the other children. Whether it was because Ted was his eldest son or his first or his namesake or all of the above I don't know, but after that pledge, TR doesn't seem as hard on Ted again in the rest of the Trilogy this lies in.

I also tried to find this next part with once again no luck. However I'll explain the best I can:

When Ted was in college, he got sick with a very violent case of pneumonia, to the point where he was put to bedrest. TR may've had a hard attitude to sickness but he came down to be by his son's bedside and the concern must have been intense. Ted's mother also came down and eventually Alice did too when she was allowed (they actually considered each other like siblings, probably some of the closest between the six with only a 3/2 year age difference). Ted did get better, but it was still worrying in the moment.

I can't find the copy (when I can I'll probably edit this post), but in another book, during WWI, Eleanor (Ted's wife, not FDR's, it's. It's confusing I know) confided in TR that Ted worried if his father was proud of him. TR was particularly surprised, but he told Eleanor that yes, of course he was proud of Ted. He called the war he fought in (Span-Am War) a bow and arrow affair compared to what Ted was fighting in -- a war with bombs and motherfucking aerophysics.

So in Ted you have the 'Heir who's really stressed' part of being a Victorian kid of someone who may or may not need lots of therapy and already have daddy issues (because he did. and i am right.)

OH!! FDR and Ted also had this weird rivalry and Ted basically disowned his ass and called him a maverick. Republican tings ykwim- FDR kept Ted's war moves from newspapers to stunt his cousin's political career (Which is a dick move), but even in the end, FDR presented the Medal of Honor to Ted's widow and admitted that TR would've been the proudest of Ted.

3. - Kermit: really sad guy

Okay Ted was fucking impossible to search for but Kermit is not thankfully

Kermit doesn't seem to be as ... optimistic or loud as the other kids, as you can tell.

*in reference to Harvard, where all four of the boys attended. FDR was also slighted for like the rest of his life bc he wasn't allowed in a club that Ted and Kermit got into lmao i just find that funny*

Kermit was also 'easy to bruise' and 'adored' by his mother but he was still... uh. Well. In short terms, traumatized as fuck and had PTSD that goes beyond any realm I've ever fucking seen.

(I WILL be writing fic for this)

I guess you could say it's sort of depressingly similar to TR and his own brother, Elliott, who also died an alcoholic and with multiple attempts of su!c!de. Kermit is the younger brother, Ted is the older. TR was the older, Elliott was the younger. Ykwim?

Basically if Kermit the Frog is memey and funny then this Not-Frog-Man is tragically the opposite and he also. Really. Really needed therapy isn't that a running theme at this point though-

4. Archie - mischievous. that's it

Not much I can find on Archie in an angsty way, which I think is actually good for my heart because the Edmund Morris TR Trilogy did not do wonders for my mental stability

The most prevalent thing I can find is this:

Archie--born in 1894--would be 15, so a 15 year old struggling for dear life and terrifying the shit out of his family. Doesn't sound good huh?

But!! Besides that Archie was the only American soldier to be disabled in BOTH World Wars (The three remaining sons (Quentin died in WWI as we know this) all fought in WWII. Fighting spirits indeed) and because of the SAME injury in the SAME leg. He was quieter but still mischievous and energetic, and he got along best w/ Quentin and they rarely quarreled. I will admit, I don't see much about Archie. Quentin obviously is well-spread around, Ted is aswell, Kermit partially, Alice fucking entirely. Ethel and Archie though, I dont see much of.

ALSO!!

*these two paragraphs follow each other, they're just on separate pages. the first paragraph follows into the next, so you can read it normally without missing anything.*

I forgot that Archie basically got really, really unhealthy during the War. His arm was worryingly limp and his leg was practically fucked. Not only that but he lost his closest brother in the war, so you can imagine how he felt.

5. Quentin - FAVORITE CHILD there i said it

okay. you want angst? like, a lot? this one. this boy is your ticket to sad depressive trains of thought.

Quentin was also the most like his father and very much a risk taker, so if he lived long enough, he very well could have had a very successful political career (or in whatever he chose to go into.).

However, Quentin's death was a lasting pain for TR (who died less than a year later) and it's said that Quentin's death not only hastened the then-late-50's year old man, but that TR died of heartbreak over his youngest's death. More angst after the pictures teehee

'He' is TR. He could be vaguely cryptic in matters of worry and family. Remember this

He paces when his brain is going a million miles an hour. I actually forgot this small detail but I'll have to use it sometime tbh

this part just makes me sad even though its almost been a year since i reread it like 20 times (more on that in a second.)

The silent grieving and absolute devastation seems far more powerful.

Now, getting specific:

Yes, it was said, as I may've already mentioned, that the boy in TR died when Quentin was devastatingly taken out on July 14th in the summer of 1918. He'd already suffered losing his father (his idol. this is where his own daddy issues come from) and losing his first wife AND mother (who he adored, too) in less than 12 hours. so now, to lose his youngest son, his boy, his child? Oh dear.

So combine the fact TR already needed lots of therapy and this new, heartbreaking death, and you've got one HELL of an angst supply.

It's worth remembering TR really just said 'fuck it. beat the memory until it's too dead to throb' and thought of it as a coping method.

... his 'method' is what we'd now call unhealthy. He thought it was so fucking fine that he even recommended it to a friend (or his sister? I forget tbh) who was just recently widowed. He was not taught healthy coping/healing methods and it showed. Strongly.

TR also felt tremendous guilt for his sons getting hurt (and one dying) in WWI. He'd always glorified war to himself and his kids and he'd instilled in them that a man is only a man once he's fought in battle. Well, no, that's not true. But in the Oyster Bay line of Roosevelts, you either fought in battle when you got the chance or you were a coward for denying it. Hell, take this quote from before Ted was even born:

And that is JUST on college games. What about war?

Of course, even if he didn't push his sons into WWI, they were bound to go in eventually. His sons all shared his glory-seeking and they would put themselves in harm's way just to get their father's attention sometimes, as I mentioned with Ted truly wondering if--even after fighting in a damn war, getting gassed, and shot, and nearly blinded, AND suffering almost a mental breakdown before he was even a teen--his father was proud of him.

So not only was Quentin's death enough guilt, his sons all got hurt in a war he not only pushed for in general, but he pushed for them to enter as soon as they could. Afterall, if he couldn't fight in the war at 58 with horrible health, then his younger and healthier sons could.

All in all they ALL needed therapy and there is a resounding amount of angst all around the entire family circle. If you read this I am very much sorry.

(I can also probably get the PDFs I used to search for these. I had the physical copies but those were library copies so uh. Not anymore. I can't find the other two books either so some parts WOULD have been pictures instead of text descriptions, but oh well.)

P.S i swear im not insane

#stupid! stuff! i! write!#absolutely NOT tagging their names #this took so long jfc #i had to hard restart my tablet like six times #it also WOULD NOT let me post so skkmkskdnfbk n #im so sorry for my shaky highlighting of certain things #long ass post #tw sui talk #tw death #tw alcohol #tw alcoholism #tw war #if you think i should add any TW's lmk #tw depressing stuff #tw miscarriage #briefly mentioned though #tw trauma

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aphrodaisyacs · 2 years

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💗 and ❔for the ask game!

💗Is there a scene you can’t wait to write for a WIP?

Without getting too much into the specifics/spoiler territory, I'd say that Dabi's debut in When Hell Freezes Over (my Shiganatsu & Todofam fic) would definitely be it- up until now he's been referenced once or twice every few chapters by Natsuo, so when he finally shows up I hope that there'll have been enough build-up to justify the absolutely buckwild way that he makes everything explode lmao. It's going to involve a dumb misunderstanding, an accidental identity reveal and also the weirdest family reunion ever. Let's just say that the chapter this all happens in is gonna be a fun one ;)

❔Choose a random WIP and talk about it.

So I've made a rough outline for an Akiangel role reversal/power swap AU after binging the CSM manga and perishing. Angel-as-a-human is just as depressed and demotivated as his canon self, and to his dismay he suddenly finds himself saddled with the responsibility of taking care of Denji and Power, all because he's the devil hunter with "the least animosity towards devils" (he just doesn't give a shit). My guy has never cooked a meal in his life and barely bothers to clean his apartment, so suddenly being forced into the role of Responsible Older Brother is going to be quite the ordeal for him

Meanwhile, Aki the Angel Devil is odd in that he seems to despise other devils and prefer the company of humans. He is extremely dedicated to his devil hunting job, even though Public Safety treats him like a wild dog with a short leash on the account of him being a devil. He brushes it off, claiming that it's a safety precaution that he "deserves". Just like in canon he and Angel don't get along at first, though due to several factors they end up forming a closer relationship. He even cooks for Angel, Denji and Power when he visits their apartment later down the line :')

The plan is to loosely follow the events of Part 1, skipping over events that don't change that much from the swap. There's going to be quite a few key differences, especially when it comes to their backstories and also what happens in the final arc of Part 1. There's also the fact that Angel-as-a-human only has 6 months left to live after the Katana Man arc (as opposed to canon Aki's 2 yrs) due to being way more careless about the usage of his contract with the Curse Devil. Oh and Aki wears gloves and consciously avoids touching people

WIP It Good

#anon #asks #daisy's fics

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casspurrjoybell-27 · 11 months

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Claimed by the Beast - Chapter 32

*Warning Adult Content*

Meeting - Part 1

"You call me that word and we won't be leaving this bedroom for at least another two hours," Knox says, his expression as serious as his tone.

"Your other parent. He can also be a literal pain in the ass sometimes," Everett finishes in a whisper to Bear.

He ruffles the dog's fur before standing.

"Is the kitchen free? Think I'll head down there to make breakfast after I get out of the shower."

"Josie and the girls were making breakfast when I walked through just now. Some of the brothers are lingering around, too."

Knox is interrupted by Bear dropping his toy and whining while walking over to the door.

He scratches at it twice to get Knox's attention.

"Shit, I think he has to go out again."

"Wow. He's already trained?" Everett questions, unable to gloss over the fact that Knox has apparently gifted him the perfect dog. "What shelter did you get him from again?"

Knox immediately levels Everett with a sharp look that tells him to back down and stop digging for a story that doesn't exist.

"I was told his previous owners were an elderly couple who couldn't care for him anymore. They put a lot of work into him, and I wasn't about to bring home a dog that needed training. Don't have the time for that shit. He seemed like a good fit, so I got him and now he's ours. Any other questions you want to ask me before he pisses on my floor?"

"Nope."

Everett smiles.

His gut clings to the feeling that there's more to Bear's story but for now, he decides to put his suspicion on the back burner.

"Sorry for being annoying when you're just trying to do something nice for me. It was unexpected, that's all."

He kisses the hard look off Knox's face before walking toward the bathroom.

"I'll meet up with you guys in a bit."

Knox leashes Bear and then leaves without another word.

'Ugh. Why am I being such a dick? The man bought me a damn dog. I always wanted a dog.'

Everett chastises himself all throughout his shower.

He doesn't exit until the hot water turns cold.

It isn't until twenty minutes later when he finally heads downstairs dressed in clean clothes, his stomach growling in anticipation of breakfast.

The kitchen bustles with Fallen Angels, some flirting with the women and others sitting at the table grubbing down on a mountain of hot food.

Among them are Finn and Josie, the latter's face lighting up at Everett's arrival.

"Hey. Glad you made it down. How are you liking the new doggo?"

"Well, for starters, I woke up with its ass in my face..." Everett mumbles.

Finn laughs.

"I told Knox he probably should've asked if you were a dog person before bringing it home but of course, he never listens to me."

"It's cool. I like animals and I've always wanted a dog," Everett responds while grabbing a plate. "Might be an understatement to say I was surprised when he told me it was ours. I thought I was decent at gift giving but he has definitely showed me out. I'm mostly concerned about how everyone else feels. I'm obviously not the only one living here..."

"No need to worry about that. We would've had a few pets around here by now if any of these fuckers were capable of taking care of one," Finn teases, referencing his brothers.

As Everett glances around the lively kitchen once more, he feels a strange tug in his chest.

The longer he lives here, the more he sees the allure of being part of a motorcycle club.

The Fallen Angels are one big happy family.

Are they unconventional and murderous as fuck?

Yes.

But they're still a family at the end of the day and he's relieved that Knox has them as his support system, given that he no longer has his parents.

The list of places where Knox could've ended up had he never joined the club lies with prison and six feet under.

'And it'll probably stay that way if he doesn't calm his ass down and find a hobby that doesn't involve killing people.'

Everett is pulled away from his darkening thoughts by the sound of a dog barking.

Josie's delighted squeal fills the room as she moves to dote on Bear.

"So cute."

Knox steals a seat at the table, his gaze locking onto Everett and he pats at his lap in an invitation.

The action causes Everett's cheeks to flame.

It's rare for Knox to be this openly affectionate with him and even more so when there are this many people around.

They usually do cutesy shit like this in private but apparently not today.

Maybe Knox can change for the better.

Maybe he already has and Everett just hasn't noticed yet.

He finishes loading up his plate and then crosses the room to join Knox at the table, sliding onto the man's lap.

"Hungry? We can share my plate."

"Hungry..."

A familiar smirk eases onto Knox's handsome face as he wraps his arms around Everett, his voice a low rumble.

"I think you already know the answer to that question."

"Pervert."

Everett playfully rolls his eyes and shoves a slice of bacon into Knox's mouth.

"I think the girls are already in love with Bear. I don't know how your brothers feel about him."

Knox finishes chewing and swallows.

"Their feelings are irrelevant when it comes to me and you."

"God, I'm really enjoying this new sappy version of you," Everett grins, then lowers his voice to where only Knox can hear. "If you keep spoiling me like this, I'll never leave the clubhouse."

"I'm counting on it, kitten..."

Chaos erupts when Gavin bursts into the kitchen, his features set in a stern expression that screams trouble is on the horizon.

All the women, excluding Josie, make a hasty exit before needing to be told.

Gavin then makes an announcement that kills the rest of Everett's appetite.

"Time to gear up," Gavin says to his men. "We've got a meeting with Ghost."

1 note · View note

dark-side-blog3 · 1 year

Note

Ah, welcome to the DoL hellhole, you won’t escape! I’ve been playing the game for like a whole year now. I am concerned how much I love it.

To answer some of the questions:

Having the beastiality tag turns the animals into animal people instead- wolf boys and girls, pig boys and girls etc., doesn’t completely remove them and they will still be a threat in the forest and on the farm. It’s just that the threat level is much lower at the beginning of the game and you’re less likely to meet them- be careful as you go through the game, you’re pretty much guaranteed to meet them at some point.

You can in fact buy Robin her game console back. It’s a couple of hundred I think, but I think there’s a chance she will sell it again. I, personally, go to Bailey after they admit to struggling with the debt, I think there’s a conversation about it. At that point I go straight to Bailey’s Office and offer to take on their debt, this prevents them being taken and assaulted, but doubles your weekly rent.

If you softlock, via Eden, the Asylum, Prison, Remy’s Farm, the Wolf Cave, the Hawk Tower, etc, it doesn’t register as time moving for Bailey, I don’t think it ever does actually, if you don’t go back to the Orphanage, you basically don’t have to pay, but the moment you set foot inside Bailey will want the money for a week, it will never be more. At least not for now.

In the Forest, boots, bullet cases, and gunshots are all referencing Eden, and capture will softlock you into his cabin until you can escape and outrun them/seduce them enough. Black wolf has different markers: paw prints, eyes glowing in the undergrowth, etc.

In terms of the milking issue, I’m not really sure - are you getting an error message? If you aren’t worried about getting feats- then maybe try going into the settings, turning on the cheats, and then toggling the lactating setting off then on again and see if that resets anything.

As the game goes on, your allure goes up, which is just a base setting of the game, the higher your allure becomes, the more likely interactions by NPCs are. Buckle up, the fun of being nonconned by unnamed characters has only just begun. Bad scores in the degen game is the name of the game!

It does seem to be that you can’t be interacted with and approached by NPC during events, like dates, or at any point having agreed to do something with a character. They’re a set script that can’t be interrupted unless a glitch occurs, and you can’t be randomly attacked until the event is over.

Yup, it was Kylar who stole your panties. You can catch them in your room at some points.

If ya have any questions, I’m more than happy to share my degen game knowledge! - DD

So thissss was sent about a week ago and I've played the game twice since then, I think, if not three times?

I'm gonna go down this list as practically as possible:

Glad I toggled beastiality off because... Nope nope nope. But I am down for monsters, and I've had a couple of run in with monster sex and it is all good by me :) I saw on the wiki parasite babies are a good way to get cash, but I am NOT doing that. So. Moving on...

Yes I bought Robin her console back, I also took on her debt thinking she wouldn't get in trouble anymore and would also be grateful. Much to my dismay, she is NOT grateful, and I've already made so much progress on my main save it makes no sense to go back to a previous save file and not take her debt on (I'd loose all my stuff... But if I ever decide to play a second route and SAVE IT, I'll just leave her to deal with the problems on her own)

I learned that softlocks don't progress for Bailey when I got sent to the asylum and when I got back on the friday Bailey demanded payment then instead of the sunday it was! I already learned this, but thanks anyways DD!

I almost got caught by Eden, but haven't had a run in with Black Wolf yet. I am choosing not to think of the implications that Black Wolf was originally an animal that you can have a relationship with, and instead focusing on the also canon monster version. Somehow my character knows about blackwolf despite nothing happening? Bizzare. But not of my concern.

I have a theory that the milking issue is because the asylum made my character too innocent and forget how to grope her boobs, so I'm going to try that when I play next. Or its just a glitch and I'll have to learn to cope.

Bad scores being good in the degen game is true-- I now have a stickynote on my monitor when I play so I don't worry about sucking at videogames.

I know it was Kylar, the fucking loser. When confronted he just went "but--but I..." And walked out with his metaphorical tail between his legs. Imagine getting caught stealing clothes and whining and whimpering. Kylar is so pathetic. I want to bully him so bad.

Thank you for the tips, DD! I appreciate the help from a pro! I am a noob and a filthy casual lol, so I need all the help I can get! Plus someone to talk to about the characters and how... AHEM, interesting they are... Not all of them are my type, but it's still fun to play around ^_^

#writer turns gamer #dd anon

0 notes

yesimwriting · 2 years

Text

Final Girl (Part 3)

- Final Girl Series Masterlist (updated part 1 - 9 and extras)

A/n yall have been so kind!! all of the messages, likes, comments, and reblogs for this series have made me so happy! this chapter is a little bit of filler bc my original idea for this part was way too long especially with how busy this week is supposed to be, so i sort of split it!!

also if this has pacing issues, i’m sorry, i had a panic attack yesterday and a really bad migraine today so it’s been kinda rough lately but i wanted to get this out!! Part 4 is going to have a little more going on :)

if this is messy pls don’t give up on me 😭 i promise the next part will have more going on i just didn’t want to leave y’all waiting forever and we needed a bit of a filler

also if anyone wants to leave me an ask about this series pls do:) i’ve had so much fun talking about Final Girl

Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s.

Chapter Summary: Y/n’s first day back after the incident.

----

My reflection has never bothered me more. I know vanity is such a stupid thing to worry about now after what happened to Casey, but I can’t help the way I scrutinize my appearance.

The attention drawing cotton-y bandaid that was placed on the gash on the side of my temple has been (thankfully) downgraded to a regular bandaid. That’s fine--I can accept that. What I can’t accept are the stupid cuts caused by all of that glass.

After being released from the hospital, it took no time for me to learn that it’s going to be awhile before I can comfortably wear pants again. My arms are a little less cut up, so the white, long sleeved shirt I picked out covers my injuries without irritating them. I tried on a pair of leggings and I barely got them to my thighs without wincing.

So now I’m wearing the most comfortable skirt I own. Normally, I wouldn’t even think twice about it, I wear this skirt so often, but it barely covers any of the cuts on the back of my legs. God...people are going to think I’m doing this for attention, especially since media outlets keep calling my house.

Ugh--this is as good as it’s going to get for my first day back. I pick my backpack up from my bed. My eyelids feel so heavy I have to fight the urge to collapse back into bed.

The walk downstairs is painfully slow. Once I’m finally in the hall that leads to the kitchen, I stop. A vague confusion clouds my thoughts. Was I going to the kitchen? What did I want from the kitchen?

“Mornin’, kiddo.” I blink at the sound of Wells’ voice. At least it’s offering me a sense of a direction.

Stepping fully in the kitchen, I greet back, “Good morning.”

He eyes me for a long second, piercing blue irises lingering in a way that makes me feel uneasy in my own skin. “Skirt’s a little grown, ain’t it?” When my only reaction is to furrow my eyebrows, he continues, “What happened to those little girl dresses you used to wear? I liked those.”

I grab the strap of my backpack, shifting slightly. I stopped wearing those dresses after he had been dating my mom for a few months. “Outgrew them, I guess.”

Wells nods once, the motion gruff as he moves to grab his mug. He lets out a curt, gruff noise.

“Oh, Wells.” Like always, my mom’s voice chases away all the tension. “Don’t you know better than telling a girl what to wear? Especially a teenager. Now ease up, 16-year-old me would make Y/n look like a saint.” With that, my mom finally looks at me. “You look pretty, like always, I especially like your top.” It takes me a second to realize that my mom’s referencing the fact that I stole this shirt from her closet. I let out a soft, slow laugh. “You okay?”

I nod drastically. “Yep, just want to get the first day back over with.”

“I can’t believe you only took one day off. When I was your age, I’d have taken half a week off for less.”

“It’s going to be bad no matter when I go back. My name’s been all over the news.” I release the strap of my backpack, scratching the back of my wrist. “Plus it’s junior year and that one day off already has me drowning in makeup work. I can’t afford to fall behind. Junior year is the year colleges look at most. This year could make or break whether or not I get into Princeton.”

My mom holds her hands up in defense. “Yes, I know, you ranted to me about it yesterday. Just promise me you’ll listen to your body. I don’t love that you haven’t had your follow up appointment yet to confirm whether or not you have a concussion.”

“Mom, I’m fine, promise. I’ll let you know if I start to feel weird.”

She watches me for a long second, likely attempting to scan me the way an MRI machine would. “Fine, you need a ride or--”

“Actually, a friend’s picking me up.”

At that my mom tilts her head in a way that’s so knowing I feel the urge to confess even though I’ve done nothing. “A friend as in one of those two boys that spent all weekend calling and checking in on you?”

My mom spent the last two days at my side. Normally it would have annoyed me, but it was actually nice. It reminded me of life before Wells. There was one downside, though. She saw how often Billy and Stu called. It wasn’t terrible and she probably would have picked up on it anyway, but it’s opened the ground to a lot of jokes and comments on her part.

“You’re the one who brought them into this. I would have never thought to call Billy while I was at the hospital.” That’s true. Even though we were friends before the incident, I wouldn’t have thought to call anyone except my mom. “And they’re just trying to be there for me like good friends.”

At that, my mom leans against the kitchen island. “Y’know when I was your age, I had a guy that just wanted to be a good friend and drove me to school. Now I have a daughter.”

I roll my eyes, “Haha. Yes--I’m going to get pregnant in the less than 10-ish minutes we’re going to have before we need to get to class.”

“It only took about 8 minutes to make you, and that includes me getting dressed and fixing my hair after. Just saying.”

I make a point of fake gagging. “Bye mom, Wells.“

“What? I was joking!”

I walk towards the front door. A hand on my shoulder makes me nearly jump out of my skin. “Mom! You scared me.”

She offers me a sheepish smile, “You know I’m kidding, right? They’re nice for caring.”

“I know, mom.”

With a sigh, she continues, “Just be sa--”

“Oh my God, mom! I’m not having se--”

“Easy, pumpkin,” she laughs off my outburst, “I mean in general. Don’t strain yourself and don’t feel like you need to push through. You want to go home early and I’ll pick you up.”

I smile softly. “Yeah, I will.”

With that, I open the front door. The sun is so bright I have to drop my head as I walk down the driveway. Wells’ house is objectively nicer than the house my mom and I lived in when we were still in Texas, but I still find myself missing the familiarity of our old front porch.

Squinting, I look up and notice a car waiting next to the mailbox. How did I miss that? Rubbing my eyes with one hand, I approach the vehicle.

I pull open the door to the backseat. Two sets of eyes turn towards me. “You know you guys didn’t have to wait for me.” I push my backpack into the car before sitting down. “You could’ve honked or something,”

“We just got here,” Billy says easily, but I’m not sure I believe him.

Stu turns in his seat to face me better as I shut the car door. “Plus we don’t mind giving you time to get all dolled up. Especially since today’s going to be a total bloodbath.”

His wording leaves me more confused than upset. I draw my eyebrows together, shifting awkwardly. “What do you mean?”

“Everyone’s gone crazy over what happened. I think more people were talking about you than Casey, and Casey’s the one that got gutted. It’s all over the news. They hung her from that tree in--” Billy moves his hand from the console in order to smack the side of Stu’s head. “Ow, man--what was that for?”

“It’s not even 8 yet, at least let her wake up first before you traumatize her.”

The thought of Casey makes my stomach twist, but I’m not focused in on anything enough to really react. Tiredly, I pull my backpack onto my lap and squeeze it to my body. “It’s fine,” I’m not sure if I’m talking to them or myself.

Stu and Billy exchange a look that I barely register before resting my chin on my bag. “Are you okay? You didn’t even do that cute, little glare thing you do when you want me to shut up.”

“I’m fine,” I answer a little too quickly, forcing myself to sit up some more, “A little tired.” Stu’s watching me a little too carefully and I catch Billy glancing at me through the rearview mirror. “Seriously?” Sighing, I shift in my seat, “First my mom and now you guys. I’m fine.”

My reaction is just a little too angry. Maybe if I felt a little more rested, I would have known better. Stu moves until he’s siting in the passenger seat normally. “Crying over the fact that you’re a total mommy’s girl.”

Rolling my eyes and ignoring the way the motion irritates my migraine, I lean back in my seat. “Put on a seatbelt, asshole.”

Even though that’s said with more bite and irritation than anything I’ve ever said to him, Stu laughs. It’s light and terribly offensive. I frown, looking over at Billy as heat crawls up my neck and towards my face. He’s just barely fighting down a grin. “It’s not that funny.”

“No,” Stu sarcastically agrees, “That was so mean of you. I can’t remember the last time someone insulted me and tried to take care of me at the same time.”

I cross my arms around my backpack. “Why did I agree to getting into a contained space with you two so early in the morning?”

“Because you don’t have a license.” Billy looks way too smug as he turns the wheel as we move down a curb.

I glare at him. “You extorted that information out of me while I was super out of it and half asleep.”

“You said it yourself, it’s not like one of us asked.”

He’s right and I hate it. I sink further into the seat, tempted to shut my eyes, but knowing that there’s no guarantee that I won’t fall asleep if I do. “Whatever.”

Stu half laughs at that before starting to talk about a new scary movie that’s coming out. The plot sounds kind of basic, but I’m not one to judge until I see the movie. Normally, I’d be totally invested. I kind of like when Stu rambles about something he’s interested in, but now I’m struggling to hold my head up.

I don’t register that we’re in the school parking lot until both Billy and Stu get out of the car. Once they’re both out, I shake my head once in an attempt to clear my thoughts. Get it together.

When I step out of the car, I make a point of keeping my eyes on the ground in front of me. Stu may exaggerate every once in awhile, but I don’t think he’s wrong about school. My mom has been fielding calls since the morning I was discharged from the hospital and last night while I was flipping through channels, I saw my face three times.

Before I can even think, a bright flash makes me flinch. The light is like a punch behind the eye thanks to my headache. That is followed by a series of other equally bright and irritating camera shutters.

Shit.

Billy steps towards me, dropping his voice so that only I can hear, “You know we don’t have to.”

Taking a settling breath, I tilt my chin up a fraction of an inch. “It’s fine,” I say, hoping that I’ll convince myself, “Can’t hide forever.”

We walk forward, me a few steps ahead of Billy and Stu. My fast pace is a sad attempt at ripping off the bandaid.

“Excuse--Excuse me, miss!” I squeeze the strap of my backpack so tightly my knuckles must be white from the tension. “Miss Y/n L/n.” The woman that waves me down is holding a large microphone. She barely glances at me before turning her attention back to the camera man that followed her as she chased me. “Hi. Gale Weathers. I covered the last one of these.”

I wince. “I’m sorry, when you say ‘the last one of these’ do you mean the last murder or--”

“...And we’re rolling!” In nature, bright colors are meant to warn living things of poison. I think that logic could be applied to Gale Weathers and her auburn hair and blood red lips. “I’m Gale Weathers and I’m bringing you an exclusive with the lone survivor of what some are calling the worst murder in Woodsboro history.” She then turns towards me, “Now, Y/n, our viewers want to know exactly what you’re feeling.”

Her microphone is way to close to my face. “Well, Gale, I’m glad you asked,” I’m speaking in the polite tone I used to reserve for rude customers when I worked in the mall last summer, “I’m feeling fan-freakin’-tastic!”

The false enthusiasm jars her the way I hoped it would. She brings the microphone back to her. “Really?”

“No, you vulture. Ambush interviewing is as tacky as that suit.”

With that, I turn away and attempt to storm into school with an aura that scares away reporters. I’ve only ever seen that kind of confident magic come from my mom, but she’s half my genetic material, that means it must be in me somewhere, right?

Apparently wrong, because the cameras continue to flash. One man gets so close to me that his rapid photographing leaves me dizzy.

“Okay,” an arm quickly wraps around my side, stabilizing me, “You got your pictures, now leave her alone.” The scent of Tatum’s perfume is comforting as she guides me the rest of the way inside. Once we’re inside, we’re granted the semblance of some privacy. “And I thought they were bad yesterday. Are you okay?”

I nod, relaxing a little at her casual expression. Maybe if I try hard enough, I’ll be able to pretend that this is an average Tuesday. “I’m fine, I’m just tired, and I can’t believe how obsessed everyone is.”

“Of course they’re obsessed.” For the first time ever, Randy’s voice is completely unwelcome. “You’re the sole survivor, the only witness to tell the story, the--for lack of better term--final girl.”

Being in a friend group with so many people that are really into horror movies is all fun and games until they summarize the great trauma of your life in a movie trope. “Really? I never would have thought of it that way.”

Sidney glares at Randy in defense of me. I appreciate it, but it doesn’t make me feel any better. “It’s too soon for those kinds of jokes.”

My sarcasm was pure venom and Sidney’s reaction, though well intentioned, only made me feel sorry. Randy offers me a sheepish sort of look that immediately makes me feel bad for being so snippy. His comment wouldn’t have bothered me so much if it wasn’t for what just happened, and he wasn’t really trying to be mean. That actually might have been an attempt to lighten the mood, especially since he knows that the final girl storyline is one of my favorites. He’s always recommending movies that end like that.

“Thanks, Sid, but I came on a little strong. I’m sorry, Randy, I’ve been a total nightmare all day. Just ask Billy and St--” I look around, a little surprised that they’re not right behind me. Aw, I lost them in all that commotion. “Weird--they were just behind me.” Shaking off the slightly lost feeling with the turn of my head, I move on, “Ask them later. The point is, I’ve been awful. It’s not your guys’ fault that this is my life right now.”

Randy’s expression morphs from being almost hurt to something that’s even more of a punch in the gut. He seems sympathetic. “It’s okay, you’re holding it together way more than I would be. I don’t even know how you’re at school today.”

“Yeah, how are you even here, Y/n?” Tatum echoes, her voice a little softer than before.

It’s a good question. Now that I’m here all those points I made about school and grades and Princeton feel so far away. “It had to happen at some point, I might as well rip off the band aid. I just want everything to go back to normal.” I shift awkwardly, watching them watch me. “And the man that did this doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of my fear.”

After a moment, Randy prompts, “...And?”

“And what?”

He half smiles. “Come on, Y/n, if you want this to feel normal, you’re going to have to give us the Princeton rant.”

I roll my eyes before scoffing. “I do not talk about Princeton often enough for you to warrant naming it a specific rant.”

Randy raises an eyebrow at my obvious lie. “You must have really hit your head hard.”

“Rude.“ I turn towards Tatum, “Tate, you don’t think I’m like obsessed with Princeton.

She parts her lips as she debates the way she wants to respond. Before she can say anything, Stu walks up from behind me and pulls Tatum into a hug. He then gives her a soft kiss that feels linger-y. Wait--why am I noticing that? That’s...that’s weird of me. And why does this feel more uncomfortable than the time I caught them full on making out in the girl’s bathroom? Why is that tiny display of affection sitting in my chest in a way that makes it hard to look at them?

More annoyed at my thoughts than the way Stu cups her face, I force my myself to stare at the locker in front of me. There are polaroids of people I don’t know tapped to the front of it.

Ugh--screw the guy that threw me into that wall. My head must be totally messing with me.

“What are you guys talking about?” Billy’s sudden appearance surprises me more than it should. At this point, I should know that when I see one the other isn’t too far behind. He has an arm around Sidney’s shoulders, and she’s leaning into his touch just enough for it to be noticeable. Since when is Billy so into PDA?

Oh my god, what’s wrong with me? Maybe my mom was right to think I have some kind of brain injury. My eyes snap back to the locker. “Nothing.”

“Y/n’s obsession with an Ivy League school in New Jersey.”

After a moment of silence, I realize that everyone’s waiting for me to speak. “Not an obsession.” My response lacks my usual level of conviction when talking about Princeton in any capacity. I can feel the fragile way they’re all looking at me. My eyes focus on the polaroids in front of me until everything else blurs into the background.

The polaroids have my eyes watering and I don’t know why. They’re just stupid pictures of people I don’t know. Casey’s voice echoes in my head. It’s a punch in the gut.

Stu’s voice cuts through the static of my thoughts. “Y/n? Are you o--”

“I think I remembered something.” The admission is so low I’m surprised anyone hears it. “Randy, do you have a copy of the news article? Not the first one, the second one that lists everything found at the crime scene?”

“Yeah,” Randy admits it like it’s an apology, “In my backpack.”

“Can I see it?”

Everyone stays quiet at that. There’s an energy in the air that makes me feel as trapped as I did in the hospital. “Come on, guys, I don’t need to be babied. The pictures aren’t going to freak me out, I was kinda there for the real thing.”

“At the hospital, didn’t you say you were unconscious for most of it?” Billy’s remark earns him a glare so harsh that he moves his hands to hold them up in defense before dropping them to his side.

“Fine. Whatever. Don’t show me the newspaper, I’ll find my own copy, it’s everywhere. There’s a good chance some jag-off shoved one into my locker anyways.” Ugh--why is everyone so impossible? I turn on my heels, unsure if I’m fuming or ready to burst into tears.

I don’t even make it a full step before something locks around my upper forearm. My head snaps back as the hand’s sudden grip softens. “Come on, bug.” That leaves me hesitant. Stu called me that the day after we first met. Since then, the nickname has mainly been reserved to calm me down. I’ve asked him about it before, but he always refuses to explain it. “You’re just going to make yourself sick.”

Biting the inside of my cheek, I frown. The group learned about my weak stomach early on in our friendship. My first night drinking with them ended with me throwing up in Stu’s bathroom. That wouldn’t have been so embarrassing if I was totally wasted, but I was objectively way too sober to get that sick.

There’s some underlying quality to his words. A quality that’s too knowing, too sure. He’s being more condescending than sweet. “I think I can manage.” I pull my arm away, ignoring the way his expression blanks. “I’m not a vase or a little kid, I don’t need you all treating me like I’m that unbelievably fragile.”

Stu angles his head to the side. I force myself to tilt my chin upwards in an attempt to stand my ground. I don’t fully get whatever face off we’re in, but I’ll be damned if I lose it this quickly. “Since you’re all grown up, Y/n, look at whatever you want, but don’t come crying to me about it.”

I take a step forward, indignation leaving my spine straight. “When have I ever--”

“You couldn’t even spend a few hours by yourself in a hospital.”

The unfairness of his statement forces a scoff from my lips. I take a step forward. “I didn’t ask for your help then and I’m not asking for it now.”

“Stu.” Billy’s voice is level, bordering on neutral.

At that, Stu exhales, but he doesn’t stop staring at me. “It’s fine, Billy.”

“Yeah,” Stu echoes, shifting towards me, “Y/n’s fine, she doesn’t need anyone.”

A sarcastic, half thought out reply rises up my chest and jams itself in my throat. I don’t think I’ve ever thought about how much taller than me Stu is. He’s looking down at me with an intensity that hits me straight in the stomach. Great, another feeling I don’t understand. “Whatever,” I mumble, “I need to get to class.”

The bell rings a moment after I turn. I walk to homeroom, not thinking twice about it until I’m sitting in front of an empty desk.

My face is hot, my head hurts, and Mrs. Ramirez’s announcements are drowned out by a ringing in my ears. When the bell rings, I can’t get out of the room fast enough. Normally, Stu’s around right after homeroom, ready to walk me to math.

I don’t know what that weird argument was in the hallway, but I’m not ready to deal with it yet. So even though I’m gripping the straps of my backpack so tightly it hurts, I take the long way to class. There are no memories of Casey in AP Calc AB, so this time when I sit at my desk, I can breathe.

By the time I’m pulling out my notebook, the bell rings. Mr. Williams walks to the front of the classroom, “Alright, everyone in their seat. For today’s exam, you are permitted the use of a graphing calculator.”

Shit. The test. I forgot about the calc test. Mr. Williams begins to hand out the exam. When he gets to me, I stop him, “Mr. Williams, I-I was wondering if I could possibly take the exam on another day? After the events of this weekend, I--”

“Ms. L/n, I made it clear to the entire class that I do not believe in scheduling a makeup exam the day of.”

My fingers nervously scratch at the back of my wrist. “And I understand that, and normally I’d never ask, but if you’ve seen the news--”

“Ms. L/n, do you want to take the test or would you rather me put a 0 in the grade book?”

I could scream. I want to scream, but instead, all I do is nod, “Take the test.”

And with that, he places the packet on my desk. The sound it makes feels like a death sentence. The next 50 minutes are a nightmare. I don’t remember how to do half the problems, and what I do remember, I can’t seem to do right. By the time the bell rings, I’m in full on panic mode. Mr. Williams collects the test and I leave the room like it’s on fire.

The sharp pain in my head has never been this bad. I reach my locker, unlocking it to grab my bottle of ibuprofen. I take two Advil without any water. Today totally, unbelievably sucks. I need to splash some water in my face.

The bathroom is thankfully empty. Pushing my backpack off of my shoulders and onto the counter, I turn on the sink. The water is cool against my fingers, and for the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe. My bandaid is sticking out to me too much so I force my gaze downwards.

There’s a long abandoned copy of a newspaper on the counter. Its corners are so wet that the words at the start and end of the article are unreadable. The page it’s opened to has no photos. I’m sure if I flipped through it I’d find something listing everything the police found inside the house that night.

Stu’s earlier claim echoes in my head as I pick up the newspaper. I’m not sure if I’m more motivated by spite or the desire to answer the question in my head, but I guess it doesn’t matter, because the end result is the same. I turn the page, skimming the article. The intro is so long that I still haven’t gotten to the murder, let alone what the police found after. I flip ahead until I find what I’m looking for.

I read the section about everything that was found twice. They mention everything down to the burned jiffy pop and the tube of lipgloss Casey left in the living room. The paragraph never mentions the polaroids from the kitchen.

He took pictures of me from the crime scene.

Unease leaves my stomach in knots. The killer, who talked to me on the phone like we were best friends and chose to not kill me took photos of me.

I turn the page frantically, desperate to see if the polaroids are mentioned there. Big mistake. Casey’s photo is staring at me, but she’s not her in it. She’s hanging from that big tree in her yard and her--her intestines...

Cold sweat leaves my hands clammy. My body knows what’s happening before I do. A stall door gets thrown open just in time for me to throw myself onto my knees. Bile and whatever’s left of last night’s dinner burn as they come up my throat. I wretch.

An unexpected but not unpleasant touch is pressed into my back as my hair is pushed out of my face. More bile leaves me.

After a second passes and I don’t throw up a third time, I turn my head just enough to see who’s next to me. Billy. He doesn’t say anything at my recognition, he just moves his hand up and down my back gently.

“...I found a newspaper.”

“Yeah, I assumed after i heard the…”

He’s trailing off to be nice. I shift in order to sit cross legged on the floor. “Right. That’s fair.”

His hand stalls against my back. “I didn’t mean it li--”

“I know.” My voice is too small.

Billy moves his free hand. I don’t know what he’s doing until he’s pulling the paper away from me. I let him take the newspaper and place it somewhere on the other side of him. “Why’d you look?”

“I--earlier, I was looking at this locker in front of us and it had polaroids taped to it, and-and that made me remember that on Saturday, Casey took a bunch of pictures of me. Polaroids.” I wipe at my face with the back of my palm. "The article’s super detailed, but it didn’t mention any pictures. I-I think that means that the person took them.”

Billy’s eyebrows draw together. The corner of his mouth turns downwards. “You’re making yourself sick over this.”

“Because it’s a big deal!” My reaction is harsher than it should be. He’s being nice to me after I blew up at everyone this morning and they were just trying to be good friends. And after this, I’m in no position to talk about what I am and am not able to handle. “It’s a big deal that I’m alive and Casey isn’t.” Taking a shaky breath, I continue, “And I should--I have to make it right somehow. Casey’s dead and I’m alive because it fit whatever plot he wanted to make. It was total chance, the killer probably flipped a coin while outside of her house to pick which one of us would live and which one would end up like...” I gesture vaguely in the direction of the newspaper, “That.”

He’s quiet for so long I think he may not respond at all. His hand begins to move up and down my back again in the form of small circles. “Do you really think that?”

Shrugging, I lean into his touch. “I mean, it’s probably either that or a stalker scenario.”

“You don’t have to figure it out. Just because you’re the one that survived doesn’t mean you need to put yourself through this. Especially now. It just happened, give yourself some time.” His voice is so assuring and oddly comforting I feel my eyes water. “What’s wrong?”

Despite myself, I almost snort. “I think you know what’s wrong.”

He gives me a semi bitchy look. “Something else happened, I can see it on your face.”

Frowning, I let my gaze drop to the ground. “Am I that transparent?”

Billy moves, the hand that’s not on my back coming beneath my chin. I let him tilt my head upwards until our eyes meet. “You have no idea.”

Warmth crawls up my face. He smiles. “Fine, I’ll tell you but it’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Well, I’ve had a really bad headache all day and then I get to first period and Mr. Williams starts talking about an exam. And that’s how I realized that I completely forgot about the calc unit test. I tried using the whole almost murdered excuse--I kinda hated myself for it, but it doesn’t matter, because he didn’t even go for it.” With a dramatic, deprecating sigh, I start to pick at a loose thread in my shoe lace. “Mr. Williams doesn’t believe in getting out of the test the day of. There’s no way I didn’t fail it, and it’s an AP class so that’s going to mess with my entire GPA.”

He doesn’t comment on my teariness or the way that I almost sniffle, he just continues to softly rub my back. The gesture is starting to feel somewhat maternal, but it’s nice. “He made you take the test?”

“Mr. Williams’ is a total asshole.”

Billy’s mouth turns upwards, “He sounds like it.” I smile, leaning into his touch. “You should go back to the doctor.” He frowns when I move away from him. “Your head hurts, you’re moody--”

“Am not.”

“Right, because that stand off with Stu earlier was like you.”

Right--that weird moment in the hallway. Great, Stu’s probably mad at me, and there’s no way that me going out of my way to not see him before math is something he’s going to take lightly. “He’s probably so mad at me.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Billy says, “He can’t stay mad at you.”

I give him a look. “He’s petty.”

Billy smiles after a second. “He’ll be petty about it, but he won’t actually be mad.” Before I can respond, Billy stands, “Come on, you need to go to a doctor.”

After a second, I stand, taking his hand. “Fine.”

----

Taglist: @cole22ann @i-amnotokaywiththis

#scream #scream x reader #scream 1996 #scream imagine #ghostface #ghostface x reader #poly!ghostface #poly!ghostface x reader #stu macher #stu macher x reader #billy loomis #billy loomis x reader #x reader #final girl fic #slasher fic #slasher x reader

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fbfh · 3 years

Text

I think you've horribly misread the situation [shitty roommate pt 2] - leo x reader

wc: 2.3k

genre: contemporary drama, you're definitly going to get second hand embarrassment, cozy fluff

pairing: leo x reader, attempted isabella x leo

reader: gender neutral, they/them

requested: hell yeah

warnings: mild swearing, roommate tries to steal your man once again, mentions of various mainstream vampire media (twilight, the vampire diaries etc.), brief mention of castlevania (even though i haven't seen it yet lol), breif mention of videogames and assassins creed, very mild delusion (roommate is secretly convinced leo is a vampire that's in love with her), attempted age gap relationship (she's 17 and leo's 19, he shuts that down real fast), very bad poetry

summary: You and Leo are both looking foward to spending a long weekend together, and Leo is determined not to let anything interrupt it, even if it means turning down your roommate's attempts to seduce him in the kitchen.

a/n: absolutley no hate or shade or judgement to anyone who has the same or similar traits as isabella!!!!!! at her core she's annoying because she's the antagonist, not bc of any isolated trait or traits

also she's shitty cause she keeps trying to steal your boyfriend?????

Edit: I forgot to mention before, but this is a college au where you're both still demigods, so you went to camp and on quests and stuff together

This weekend is going to be all about recharging. Recharging from the ridiculous back to back closing and opening shifts at work, recharging from having to redo that stupid project twice because your professor couldn’t decide on a clear way to define the criteria, and recharging from Isabella having her townie friend Regan over almost non stop to “completely shake up her look” as she put it.

Between the constant presence of someone you’d barely consider an acquaintance and Big Time Rush’s self titled album blasting on repeat out of her giant airpod shaped speaker, it’s been harder than usual to get in some effective self care. You have no idea how many more times you can hear the phrase “I’m going for Jade West meets Elena Gilbert, with just a little Buffy Summers” before you lose your fucking mind.

Thankfully, the hard part is almost over. There’s some minor holiday tomorrow on friday, so you and Leo both have a three day weekend ahead of you, which you intend to spend entirely together. You planned ahead, frontloading homework, chores, errands, and everything you could think of to remove anything that isn’t cuddling or playing video games and watching netflix together from your horizon.

This includes going straight from work to the grocery store to stock the fridge and get any snacks you and Leo want. You had texted him a while ago asking for anything he was craving, and head into the store with a concrete list. After a while, you circle around some aisles, avoiding the check out.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” you muse, knowing it’s untrue, but hoping to trigger a memory anyway. You can’t put it off any longer, finally checking out and heading back to your apartment. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t avoiding Isabella just a little.

You know bringing in all these groceries would be way easier with Isabella and possibly Regan’s help, but you just don’t have the social energy to talk to anyone, much less her, right now. By some miracle, you bring everything in yourself, and hope to get it put away before you see Isabella.

You turn to the freezer, putting away the ice cream. When you turn back around, you’re suddenly met face to face with Isabella, who has opened one of the boxes and is picking at a pastry.

“Hey girlie,” she says, elongating the hey.

“Hey,” you reply lethargically, putting the last of the groceries away. She looks at the pastry in her hand like she’s just noticing it.

“Sorry, I can’t help it, I’m italian.” She smiles, endeared by her own behavior. You have no idea what being italian has to do with asking before you open a box of your roommate’s food, but this really isn’t out of character for her. She brings up the fact that she’s half italian more than Lele Pons blames her behavior on being latina.

She’s wearing sweatpants that say chaser on the leg in red and gold varsity font, and a tight tee shirt that says “it’s okay to love them both” with silhouettes of the male love interests from one of the vampire shows she always watches. You collect the plastic bags to put in recycling, and see a piece of paper on the counter.

It reads as follows:

Drowning in my mind

No one hears me cry

Who was I before society

Before society put me in a pink dress

And handed me blonde hair dye

And told me to lose ten pounds or be labeled a freak?

The happiest people cry the most

Let the lyrics be your story

But I’m not like the other skinny blonde pretty girls

I’m

Different

-b.g. xox

You hold back a sigh.

“I think this is yours.” you say, handing it to her.

“Oh, it’s just some of my poetry I left lying around, that’s so embarrassing.”

I know, you think, you do that all the time.

“Did you read it?” She asks, hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Thank god, that would have been so embarrassing. My poetry is something really… deep, and personal to me.”

“Uh huh. Hey, I’m going to be doing a lot of self care this weekend, so-”

“Oh!” she interjects, eerily similar to Phoebe Buffay - you guess she’s been watching friends again - “I wanted to ask… is Leo coming over later?” Her voice is riddled with subtext, the expression on her face a little too invested in your answer.

“Uh, yeah. I told you the other day we’re spending the weekend together…”

She cuts you off again, a sudden, intense look on her face.

“When will he be here?”

You check your phone, scrolling through your recent texts.

“By 7 at the latest.” It’s around 6:40 now.

“Oh my god, I have to change,” she rushes back to her room, presumably digging through her recent additions to her closet.

You’re frozen for a minute after the interaction, left with a furrowed brow and the beginnings of a headache. You blink, then choose to reschedule processing why she feels the need to change for your boyfriend to a more convenient time. That’s enough of that for today. You don’t care what else happens, you’re not talking to anyone besides Leo for at least the rest of the day. You retreat to your room to finally shower and change into something comfy. As you pass by Isabella’s room, you hear her talking to Regan.

“...There’s something almost… supernatural about him.”

You bite back a laugh.

“Do you think he’s a…” Regan begins, ending the sentence with something too quiet to hear, but you’d bet almost any organ she said vampire.

So close. So, so close, and yet… here you are.

Not much later, Leo texts you to let you know he’s here. You read his text, and run out to hug him in the living room before even typing a reply. He picks you up, and spins you around. The embrace is warm and fulfilling and familiar, and you wish it would last forever.

“Hi, Sparky.” you murmur into his neck.

“Estrella…” he says, rocking you back and forth gently and pressing a kiss into your jawline, “I missed you so much.” He punctuates the sentence with another kiss, this one to your lips, and you smile more genuinely than you have all day. You’re about to agree when you remember the good news you’ve been saving to tell him in person.

“Guess what I got on sale for like, half off,” you start, excitedly, continuing at his invested expression, “the Assassin’s Creed bundle I showed you!”

“No way,” he starts, and you nod.

“I’ll go get everything set up, drinks are in the kitchen!” He watches you retreat into your room, disbelieving how he could possibly get someone as perfect as you to fall for him. He’s not going to question his luck. He grabs a couple caffeinated sparkling ices, and meets you in your room, setting down his bag and grabbing some comfy clothes to change into.

As you both get settled in, you fill each other in on all the ridiculous shit you’ve been through this week. You finally conclude the bizarre - yet somehow standard - Isabella escapades.

“So I will be avoiding all contact as much as possible,” you laugh.

“Yeah, no shit,” he agrees, “Consider me your human buffer.” You thank him, hugging him again and pressing a kiss to his lips.

The next couple hours are spent cuddling and finishing season 4 of Castlevania. Both reeling from the season finale, you agree this is a good place to take a break, get some food, and decide what game you should start with. It’s already 10pm, which most people would consider too late for dinner, but you have all weekend to fuck up your sleep schedules.

“Let’s review,” Isabella says, holding up two red lipsticks. She turns to Regan. “Which one?”

“That one,” Regan says, pointing to the one on the left, then turns to her list, and continues. “Here’s what we know; we’ve never seen him eat, and he never seems tired. He’s really smart-”

“Almost too smart,” Isabella adds, selecting black rose dangle earrings from her jewelry. Regan agrees, and continues.

“He’s almost hypnotically attractive, and his smile is a little too dazzling.”

“There’s something… supernatural about him. Like he’s not… all human.”

Regan writes this down.

“Plus he’s always wearing black and red, and those flowy button up shirts? It’s all adding up, Ree. That dream that someone was outside my window, the ring, everything…” She says, referencing the black and red cocktail ring she’d found with her stuff when she’d first moved, “I’m not saying it’s definite, just that… there’s a chance.”

“What about…” Regan says hesitantly, nodding toward your room.

“Please,” she scoffs, “he’s only with them to get close to me, like Damon and Caroline. Edward couldn’t have just approached Bella out of the blue, he had to infiltrate her friend group first, to seem less suspicious. Not to sound mean or anything, but they really don’t seem like the type someone… like him… would choose.” her voice gets dreamy when she mentions him.

In spite of having seen most mainstream vampire media almost as many times as Isabella, Regan still considers her the expert on these things, and decides not to point out that Edward didn’t infiltrate Bella’s friend group. Maybe it comes up in one of the retellings she hasn’t read yet.

“So, what now?”

Isabella sets down her lipstick, and turns to her friend.

“I tell him.”

Regan’s eyes widen.

“You’re going to tell him you know?”

“No… not yet. It’s too soon, we don’t have enough evidence. I’m going to tell him I know he’s in love with me, then once he’s secure in our relationship... we’ll see where it goes.”

She stands up, assessing herself in the mirror. She chose her outfit carefully; short red dress with black roses and black mesh collar, black rose bracelet to match her earrings, snug faux leather jacket, and black stiletto ankle booties with a very skinny heel, the zipper on the outside gold, not silver. She fluffs her wavy hair and turns towards the door. She looks back one more time, holding onto the doorway.

“Wish me luck.”

Leo enters the kitchen, seeing Isabella already there, leaning against the counter seductively. She’s wearing an outfit and jewelry this late at night that makes Leo wonder if she’s going to an emo tea party. He puts the takeout in the microwave. She’s still staring at him.

“Uh… hey.”

She lets out a dainty giggle, looking him up and down.

“... Hi.”

At a loss for words, and really wanting the awkward silence to be over, he continues, “Did you need something?”

“What I need,” she walks closer to him, tracing her finger over his collar, “is you.”

What the fuck?

His brain seems to stall for a moment, and she uses this opportunity to continue.

“I know why you’re here. I know that you’re only using them to get closer to me. I know-”

“Woah-”

“That you’re in love with me.”

Okay, double what the fuck.

She takes his stunned silence as shyness, and steps closer, putting her arms around his shoulders.

“You don’t need to play so coy, I-”

This time she’s the one that gets cut off. He grabs her arms and gently steps away, trying to make it abundantly clear that he’s not into this.

“Woah, okay, slow down. First of all, you’re 17 and I’m turning 20 in a couple months, so that’s a hard no. Second, I don’t know where you got this idea, but I am not dating them to get closer to you. We’ve known each other since we were like, 15, and have been through everything together. I’ve only known you for a couple months. I love them. Probably more than I’ve loved anything ever. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t, but he can tell from the look on her face that she still thinks this is all part of some game.

“So why don’t I ever see you eat? Why are you so smart, and always up at night? I know what you are.”

He has to physically hold back a laugh. He takes a step back, and places his hands on the counter.

“Isabella, I have adhd. And I’m literally an engineering student. Why wouldn’t I be smart and have a shitty sleep schedule?”

She starts to protest, and he pulls out the reheated take out from the microwave.

“And for the record, I do eat.”

Exiting the kitchen quickly and retreating back to your room, he hands you your food.

“I got the game set up!” you say excitedly.

“Nice!”

You take one look at his face and can tell something happened. He sees this, and continues.

“I just had a very… interesting interaction with Isabella,” before he finishes the sentence, your head is already in your hands. You let out a groan.

“What did she do?” you mutter from behind your hands.

He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m not totally sure,” you laugh, “but I think she thinks I’m secretly in love with her…” you’re both laughing before he can even finish the sentence.

“No…” you laugh, “no fucking way…”

“Believe me, I put an end to that as soon as it started.”

“Oh, I do.”

He runs his hand over your back, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“You know,” he continues, “I think getting our own place has definitely moved up the priority list.”

You couldn’t agree more.

#leo valdez x reader #leo x reader #leo valdez #leo valdez imagine #heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus x reader

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mettywiththenotes · 3 years

Text

Can't get over how Izuku is serious most of the time whereas Tomura smiles most of the time

Can't get over how Izuku is a Hero but looks like a Villain and Tomura is a Villain but looks like a Hero

Can't get over how both stories are about hope and standing up to evil but they're from BOTH SIDES

Can't get over how they both constantly break their own bodies and don't care about doing it

Can't get over how Izuku's story is about twisting fate while, at the same time, fate twists him. And Tomura's story WAS about succumbing to fate (accepting himself as a Villain after the murder of his family) but as he grew away from AFO, he twists his own fate willingly

Can't get over how Tomura associates fate and destiny with Izuku, as he references it with Izuku at least twice. How Izuku sees his fate as destroying AFO, which included destroying Shiggy, until he saw Tomura in the void

Can't get over how THEIR VERY STORY is about FATE. Two lost boys suffering and being puppeteered in a war that isn't even theirs. They are two characters who have, in a way, succumbed to their destiny's

But not TOTALLY

Because Izuku IS still part of OFA's mission and he's STILL set out to destroy AFO, but the guy who he was told to kill isn't a generic Bad Guy in his eyes anymore. He's Tomura Shigaraki, a child who cried in his garden, someone who has been screwed over his entire life, who needs help

Izuku twists fate, and he wants to twist Tomura's

Tomura was SUPPOSED to follow the destiny AFO layed out for him. In a way, he still IS part of that plan, as AFO is using him as a vessel just like he planned to. But Tomura does what he wants to do. He doesn't WANT to be a vessel. He's part of the plan while actively rejecting it at the same time. He "doesn't want to be a stupid chess piece"!

And was it fate for them to meet at USJ?

Was it fate for them to talk in the mall?

Is it fate for Tomura and Izuku to constantly keep meeting each other and battling?

Tomura seems to think so

Does Izuku?

I want that to be a callback and answered. Tomura talked about fate and destiny and he's referenced it with Izuku twice, but does Izuku think the same?

What are his thoughts on meeting Tomura?

What does he think about Tomura's ideals overall? And not about the "I want to kill All Might and destroy society" stuff, but about wanting to fight oppression. Wanting to be seen, heard, fought for and loved

Does he understand now; Tomura's pain? His want to be payed attention to, to be no longer swept aside as if he were nothing?

And what does Tomura think of Izuku's conviction?

What does he hate so much about that brat? Is it the fact that he's All Might's fan? Is it the fact that he practically worships Heroes? Or is it also the fact that Izuku is genuinely the only Hero that's ever listened to him?

I'm talking about the Mall Scene, of course. Where Izuku listened to him and answered his question. Where there was a back and forth of honesty when they answered each other. Because the fact that Izuku is the only Hero who has done that should strike a hard chord in Tomura

What are Tomura's thoughts on Izuku now, after the Void? Do you think he noticed the way Izuku looked at him when AFO was strangling him? Do you think he noticed how Izuku's expression flared into rage when he leapt to do something, anything, against AFO's take over?

Is Tomura conscious within the possession? Does he know what is happening outside of his body?

Did he watch helplessly as Izuku latched onto the Noumu, as he screamed at AFO?

Did he watch as Izuku fell and yelled that he'd do... something. He never finished that sentence. What was it he was going to say?

Did he watch as Izuku fell and wondered, maybe even knew, that Izuku leapt to help him?

Or, putting the Conscious In Vessel theory aside, was Tomura's last memory him seeing Izuku's face as he saw Tomura in the void?

Was his last memory of Izuku when he leapt to save him from AFO's hold?

What are Izuku's thoughts on Tomura besides "victim"? Besides "Villain"?

What are Tomura's thoughts on Izuku besides "opponent"? Besides "Hero"?

Anyway.

Shiggy and Izu brainrot. I love them and I miss them

#rambling rambling always rambling #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #tomura shigaraki #izuku midoriya #shigaraki and midoriya

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fatbottombucky · 3 years

Text

Marvel Series Are Weird... Right?

SPOILERS FOR HAWKEYE SERIES+ MORE

I find it so odd that Marvel has given A LOT of their characters massive character overhauls for their series... just to possibly never use them ever again (AKA them dying)

Hawkeye, for instance, I never really liked him- a better term would be 'cared for', especially MCU Clint- I just never found him that interesting and I thought adding his family in Ultron seemed weird, rather pushed upon us as some weird character development by Joss.

The show... is amazing. I went in for Kate Bishop, I'm now walking away from episode 4 with a newfound love for Clint (I fell in love with him in episode 1 tbh).

We see Clint having to deal with Endgame, a year on. So it's been a full year since the death of Natasha, which is STILL prevalent for him. Honestly, Natasha plays such a key role in his series, I thought she'd be referenced once or twice, but it's been multiple times with a few past shots of her. It's clear Clint has survivors guilt.

Clint is partially deaf and uses a hearing aid. This is from being around explosions and made worse from Endgame during the last fight. Clint told his wife about Ronin and she actively helps him (from home) with trying to get rid of his Ronin past.

Clint isn't a great father, but he's trying very hard to be present which is very difficult and can emotionally affect men because their relationship with their children is strained- I love that his series is touching on this, where he makes promises and REALLY struggles to follow through and leaves him feeling guilty about letting his family down.

SO... we get all this emotional development, plus some character development. We see him secretly enjoy Kate Bishop's questions and her excitedness over... him. The show pokes fun at the fact Clint doesn't have great branding and actually, people forget about him- which he finds nice cause his job is to be discreet.

Someone on TikTok called Clint the 'Passive Avenger', he didn't want or sign up to be one, but Loki making him passive in Avengers and having to watch as he had no control over himself made him become an Avenger.

The ending theory of Hawkeye is that Yelena (Natasha's sister from the movie Black Widow) is going to assassinate Clint, due to the fact, someone has put a Black Widow hit on him (she was chosen because Valentina Allegra de Fontaine told Yelena Clint killed Natasha).

We go through all this development with Clint, we find out so much about him, and his relationship with Natasha. Only to have him die?

What is it with Marvel and giving characters extreme character overhauls only to kill them, we had done to us with Loki, which I still haven't forgiven them for (despite getting a Loki series). The whole ten years with Loki and him being a villain, to passive and then, finally, redemption to only be killed by Thanos. I went on a journey with that character only... to have him die.

Same with Vision, I never really cared for him. The WandaVision series was AMAZING!!!! I learnt so much about him through Wanda and he taught her to let him go; to grieve. I think that series was emotionally beautiful but they did it again. They gave Vision a lot of development only to basically kill off the Vision we came to like.

Am I the only one slightly miffed by this?

IDK the thought of seeing Clint struggle to be a father, to being an unwilling mentor to Kate and dealing with his grief over his best friend... if they kill him off it's gonna suck. I think, at least, one original Avenger should get a chance at retirement (not accounting for Steve cause he had to go back in time to do his retirement) but also still be in this world.

I also think Clint should be the one to have a proper happy ending in the current MCU cause of Nat's sacrifice, she willingly gave up her life so he could see his kids (plus millions of others) again. She did that for him cause she knew, despite who he had become, Laura and his family will make him be Clint Barton again.

The whole killing characters off just so you don't have to mention them in future phases is just weird to me. Killing characters off for shock endings and twists is boring. Killing characters off because the actors are moving on is also lame, i mean, they never have to actually appear again they can just be named.

#marvel #mcu #hawkeye #if they kill off hawkeye then im out of the marvel fanclub #stop writing characters to be interesting and then killing them off in the span of 6-9 episodes #it aint good writing or even twisty #its boring and dull

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serpentstole · 3 years

Note

Can I ask what's wrong with Michael W Ford's books? I never read them but I've seen often people recommending them, so I'm curious. Thank you and have a nice day.

Thanks for the question! Sorry if this gets a little long, TL;DR is at the bottom but I've broken down some more specific examples in point form.

I'll preface this by saying that if people get something worthwhile from Michael W Ford's books, that's their business and I'm happy for them. However, there's a few things about his writing and him as a person that I don't really love and struggle to get behind. Most of the specific textual examples I give are from the Bible of the Adversary specifically, as it's one of his more famous books and the only one I personally have had the mental fortitude to page through so far.

- I'm immediately leery of anyone who's often described as a "visionary" or "luminary" on websites selling or listing their books, especially when I've gotten the feeling that it's just that his books are accessible and plentiful. Even among fans of authors like E. A. "Become A Living God" Koetting, the general opinion seems to be that his books lack a lot of consistency and are a bit poorly written. Can confirm for the Bible of the Adversary, at least. There's some parts of that thing that could have used a once-over by an editor.

- I try very hard not to use what happened to the Greater Church of Lucifer/GCoL against him. Another member of the community that I do still (loosely, infrequently) interact with was also involved, and while I sincerely wish they'd both more deeply researched the man they were signing up to run a very public and scrutinized church with, I think his turning into a scam artist who publicly converted to Christianity was enough punishment there. Likewise, I'm a bit uncomfortable with his past involvement with the Order of Nine Angels/ONA/O9A given the fact that they're a pack of murder advocating nazis, but apparently he left when he discovered that fact, so I try to give him the benefit of the doubt that he truly did distance himself from them immediately upon learning of their beliefs, as I don't know when these things became more widely known. However, both of these fumbles alongside how he presents himself and his books just don't sit well with me, as the most generous interpretation is that he was twice-misled in some pretty dangerous and harmful ways by those that are damaging to the public perception of Luciferianism, but still likes to be some figurehead of the Luciferian community. People make mistakes, and people can be misled, and people can learn from past experiences, but his track record is a bit upsetting for a supposed authority.

- His work includes pieces and ideas from occultists or practices that I tend to avoid in my own practice and study, such as Thelema and Crowley's writing as a whole, inspiration taken from the Temple of Set/Setian magic, Qlipoth (because it wouldn't be a Luciferian grimoire without pilfered Jewish mysticism), and forms of Gnosticism that embrace the idea of God as an evil demiurge (which i explained my discomfort with in my previous post). I'm also not a huge fan of his "all magic comes from within" approach (and find it hard to reconcile with his frequent use of Luciferian deities/spirits and demons), nor that he'll talk about Cain's role in "Luciferian grimoires" without actually naming any... though given how similar a piece of Lilith themed artwork he's done looks to Andrew Chumbley's illustration, I assume he means the sort of books the Cultus Sabbati was writing. I wish I still had the Ford version saved or could remember which of his books it's from, the side by side comparison is painful but without it I risk looking like I'm making things up.

- Heavy, heavy use of Lilith, which I don't love for reasons I outlined before. She mostly seems to appear whenever spooky lustful sex magick is being discussed, which is great, that's great.

- He also uses the Wiccan wheel of the year sprinkled in among his more Luciferian focused holy days, which is just really funny to me. Why are we celebrating Beltane, Michael? Why are we celebrating Imbolg? (Page 69)

- He likes to use a lot of "black magic" and "vampyre magic" stuff which tends to feel very sensationalized and over the top to me. I've seen discussions of vampiric magic I found very interesting, but so far his hasn't been one of them.

- He sometimes seems to conflate Lucifer with Samael which I really truly dislike, though it's admittedly not the most baffling or out of left field take I've seen.

- Ford at times seems to either willfully misrepresent or misunderstand information he's passing along. For example, in the Bible of the Adversary he says that Cain's name comes from "...root ‘Kanah’ which means to possess. This by itself presents the antinomian nature of his essence, while instead of sacrificing his most bountiful items to the Lord, he kept them for himself." As I understand it, discussion surrounding Cain's name possibly coming from the Hebrew word קנה (kana) lean more into it being the word for to get or to obtain, referencing Eve's declaration after his conception that she'd gotten a man from the Lord. I'm all for alternate interpretations, but it feels like needless edgy-fying to fit the narrative he's trying to present. (Quote from Page 58)

- He'll say some absolutely bonkers shit like "Abel in some Luciferian Lore is considered a lower pre-form of Cain, thus the sacrifice was not literal" with zero citations or references. Like sir what the fuck does that mean, what Lore, please give us the lore please. (Footnote, Page 59)

- His interpretation of the Watchers and the Book of Enoch is so insultingly bad that I won't even relay it here, but if I see one more person claim that an angel, demon, or spirit they want to distance from Christianity or Judaism is actually a Babylonian god I'm going to go feral.

- As I've hinted at above, it feels like he'll just cherry pick and regurgitate for no real purpose. A few spirits from other texts like the Lesser Key and the Grimoire Verum get mentioned for... mostly the set of names, it seems like, he just kind of lists them out of context.

TL;DR, Michael W Ford feels (to me at least) like someone who has picked out the more appealing and edgy occult trivia and magic he could find from a wide range of sources, recontextualized the parts that didn't appeal to him until they fit his aesthetic and purposes, and presented them as a workable entry point to the Luciferian religion and its potential magical systems that is all flash no substance... and then could barely polish the flash. I don't like that he's many people's first exposure to the concept of theistic Luciferianism, and I don't like how authoritatively he presents his jumbled works as what the religion is truly about when it's so broad a label. Again, if there is something that someone finds useful within his books I am very happy for them, but I have struggled to find anything I could point to that make them worth the read... even for me to investigate further keep critiquing.

I honestly do not know why so people recommend them, unless it's just that they're easy to buy, reasonably inexpensive, and specifically have the Luciferian label on them. If that's truly the case, those people are being lazy and uncritical in a way that doesn't speak well to their apparent Luciferian ideals.

#asks #answer #luciferianism #theistic luciferianism #michael w ford #bible of the adversary

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river-bottom-nightmare · 3 years

Text

Nightwing #81 Review

i swear i actually thought no one was interested so i didn’t write one but a grand total of two (2) people said they wanted to read it, so here it is. honestly, my opinion’s been going a bit downhill, but the art is really cool and there are some decent parts so. holding out i guess? i really hope taylor has an end goal or at least a cohesive plan, otherwise i don’t see this series going anywhere i’ll particularly enjoy

the cover is very straightforward in its imagery, this villain has nightwing in the palm of his hand, easily manipulated, easily controlled no matter the action dick thinks he’ll take.

what i find interesting is the colour: both previously and heavily in this issue, the colourist has chosen to make pink this villain’s main colour, with different shades of pink as accents. so why the red in the cover? possibly to just make it more eye-grabbing, though one could argue that pink is even more eye-catching than red. maybe to convey a sense of dread or fear that pink won’t fully get across. either way, it’s definitely a decision i’m curious about.

so melinda zucco is in a high enough political position within bludhaven that she is next in line to become the mayor after the previous mayor died and dick just,,,,didn’t have any idea she existed? dick didn’t know anything about her? forget dick’s own brilliant detective skills, forget his doggedness at anything zucco related, you’re telling me bruce never found her and told dick about her? maybe he wouldn’t have now, but back when dick was a young kid, he definitely would have at least made dick aware of her existence, to let dick know and ask if he wanted to interfere with her life or anything.

i have a thought about zucco’s facial expressions. she is very much stone-cold poker face throughout the entire issue. the only time i see her pull a different expression is near the end when dick corners her against a wall with an arm around her throat.

this is most certainly intentional, what with the varied and intense expressions we see on other characters, dick most prominently. i’m wondering what exactly is the creative team’s reasoning behind this. in these panels, zucco is meeting with the most dangerous, powerful, near-bloodthirsty man in all of bludhaven and becoming the mayor of the city respectfully. in both of these panels, there is barely a hint of emotion in her face: no fear, no determination, no satisfaction. it’s just odd, considering the circumstances she’s in, regardless of any training recieved.

just spitballing here but. like. from what i’ve read so far, dick doesn’t really seem like bludhaven’s guardian angel. more like when peter parker first put on spandex and blindly stepped out into new york.

dick, how exactly can you underestimate someone from one move. so he caught your escrima. anyone with enhanced reflexes can do that. you still don’t know how he can actually fight, and this is shown in the next set of panels.

i just don’t like the wording here. dick’s “underestimated” him, but beats him up easy in the next page. in addition, i don’t know much about combat, but i would assume it would take more than one move to determine exactly what an opponent’s skill level is, made even more complex when you add physical enhancements and metahumans and aliens into the mixture.

idk my first thought when i saw that he caught the stick was “ah ok he’s enhanced” because obviously he couldn’t have reacted fast enough if he wasn’t (as there are few people trained enough to catch it on human reflexes alone.) then the wording in the next panel, i’ve underestimated him, made me think “oh no ok so he’s not enhanced, he’s just a really good fighter and can give dick a run for his money in a fight.” then, it turns out my first assumption was proven correct in the next panel. it just comes across as misleading to me.

(also sidenote but his curls are cute.)

have i praised the art enough in this series? no, i have not.

i adore the way this is laid out and illustrated. without even having to read the text, the action sequence is visually engaging and intense, and easily followable from one panel to the next. dick’s physical expertise comes through quite efficiently, and i love the special attention shown to draw our attention to dick’s escrima in the bottom right corner.

also that move in the middle row leftmost panel that’s the mcu black widow move to get up off the ground it was the first thing i noticed and it made me laugh; thought it was worth noting

i’m really loving dick’s escrima sticks in this run. they’re just so multipurpose, it’s hilarious and exhilarating. kinda reminds me of bruce’s belt, the way the button in the middle does eevveeerrryyytthhiinngg.

got a problem? don’t worry! dick’s installed a feature into his escrima that can fix that! (i like thinking dick helped make them it makes me happy and makes my engineer!dick side satisfied)

yawn. your big heart is your one true weakness yadda yadda the fact that you care will be used against you blah blah we get it. jesus can the villains please find a different weakness to exploit, this is getting old.

i need dick’s capacity to empathize and care and love to stop being a weakness that villains sneer about. bonus points if dick saves everyone anyway, either because of or despite his great big heart and the villain is surprised by the goodness of mankind or some shit like that.

i need it to be a strength, right from the get-go. the fact that he cares so incredibly much should be an asset that dick has and will use. he’s a very complex character with years of background, it can’t possibly be that hard to find another weakness of his.

ooooh this is cool, gosh i absolutely love this.

because what exactly is the reader doing? we are seeing the fear in dick’s face, just as this villain intended. even better, we’re seeing the reflection of it from the villain’s glossy mask, telling us exactly what we’re seeing and exactly what he likes so much about it.

dick’s standing up straight, shoulders drawn back, looking up at this villain’s face with determination and resolve, but his suit is tattered. one eye looks to be swollen. his hair is falling limply around his eyes, as opposed to the curls from earlier. his escrima aren’t even part of the main focus, instead blending into the side of the mask in the outer corners of the mask’s eyes, which tells you exactly how big of a threat they are to this villain.

poor bitewing’s quite alarmed.

also on second thought why would you bring your puppy out like this, when you know you’re gonna end up fighting someone in the suit. a) how many grey three-legged adorable little puppies live in the bludhaven area dick? and how easy will it be to connect the doggo running around with nightwing with the doggo that dick grayson owns? and 2) is this puppers trained? does she have fighting experience? how exactly can you ensure she will survive this highly stressful situation?

dick take better care of your dog

you know what? i was with tim on this one. why exactly is dick so optimistic and trusting about the people of bludhaven? bludhaven, which has been described as gotham’s smaller, smellier, more corrupt sister city once or twice. it’s not just the corrupt people in power, the entire system needs to change and people need to have faith and hope in order for them to come together, espcially if they’ve been living in conditions like how bludhaven has been described. from how clueless dick is about his own goddamn city, i can tell he hasn’t been here long.

it was a nice moment of hope, i’ll admit. but it was a tad unrealistic for me.

also it was in a weird place in the comic. this sort of confrontation and big get-together of the people to rejuvenate hope in each other feels like it should come near the end of a run, if not the end of an issue. certainly not in the first third of an issue. the pacing’s a bit off to me.

loyal little puppy patiently waiting for her human to wake up. i love her so much.

no it’s not. it’s bitewing.

living for this t-shirt honestly. do comics of dc characters exist in the dc universe? they must if the mug and the shirt are any indication

(now i’m imagining the first batman movie that came out in the dc universe and bruce just. being so offended at who they chose to play him.)

well, yes. but when a group of people are put through hellish conditions over and over again, they soon become desensitized to the pain and terror of their everyday lives in order to both stay sane and keep their life relatively stable, and part of that becomes ignoring or blocking out anything that isn’t directly important to you or your loved ones. having a bleeding heart will most likely get you killed in a city like bludhaven if you don’t have the same skills that vigilantes have.

and of course, people are more than capable of coming together and rallying under their city’s vigilante after seeing the good they’ve done and how they’ve helped the people, but that sort of trust takes time and effort to build. dick also had the whole ric arc and was gone for a while, which has been referenced several times in this particular issue in fact. that’s not going to make bludhaven’s citizens any more likely to trust him.

maybe i’m being a bit harsh but this comic is comic off as a bit too idealistic for the amount of change nightwing can do in a city given the present and past circumstances as well as nightwing’s own abilities. even dick grayson can’t pull off everything.

ok seriously this needs to stop this needs to stop.

right now, dick reminds me of oliver queen in the few episodes of the cw’s arrow i watched. he does the punchy-kicky-fighty and occasionally has smart insights due to the skills he gained from his past that he certainly definitely totally has but only ever exhibits once, while his team does all of the background research and information gathering and actual work.

this is dick’s city. if he has the same intelligence, worth ethic, and stubbornness in this run that he’s been shown to possess all his life, then he knows this city inside out. he’ll have meticulous notes organized in a ridiculously efficient system, he’ll have scouted out zucco long before this started, he’ll have known when anything big happened in the bludhaven political landscape in an instant.

i’m really not liking exactly how much dick’s relying on babs and tim in this series. sure, he loves them and cares for them and likes working cases with them. but he always pulls his own weight, has always been a mentor figure to tim instead of what’s weirdly becoming the other way around, and takes point on the cases in his own damn city.

what kind of weak-ass oracle is this?? redacted fbi files are child’s play. babs used to hack into the fbi for fun. this one particular picture is so out of character i want to laugh.

reading this series has unfortunately made me confront that, despite the tiny fluid acrobat dick that lives in my head 24/7, canon dick is impossibly 5′10 and muscular at that.

mmm. titties.

tim said hydrate or die-drate bitch

love how dick’s doing all this intense brooding and stuff meanwhile bitewing is curled up in a soft comfy post having the time of her life.

you don’t understand i would legitimately kill myself for her.

also the lighting in this one scene is cool. the blue tones come off so well.

they’re just. so multipurpose!! they can become a bo staff. they can cut glass. they can become a grapple hook/line. they can electrify someone. they’re a funky colour. i’m becoming really attached to these things. absolute solid choice in weaponry.

if you’re gonna write up every rookie mistake dick has made during this series to head trauma, then dick shouldn’t be out and about at all, much less in costume.

see this? this is just straight up wrong. dick most definitely should have spotted her, and would have immediately moved to take her down.

scratch that, dick would have done a full check of the building, because he knows not to break into places uninformed, especially if the owner of the apartment was raised by the maroni family. someone as highly trained, experienced, and competent as dick wouldn’t have done this.

and if you chalk it up to head injury, (which is probably true), than his ~love interest~ and his little brother should have done a much better job making sure he stays in his house.

zucco looks so awkward it’s fucking hilarious

are those shadows that mimic a domino mask, to both reflect and hide the fact that his mask is missing? are those bruises around his eyes, to show how, despite what good he’s doing, being nightwing is hurting dick right now?

(isn’t his domino mask supposed to have an electrifying feature that keeps people from removing them?)

it’s a little odd how the three known villains of this series are all coloured in warm shades, more specifically pink. meanwhile, in earlier issues, dick’s fondest memories were in pink, memories of him and alfred in particular. why has the colour pink changed from signifying something benevolent to something malicious? idk i hope this gets explained later.

this i did like. either it’s just a display of brute force in anger, or dick slipped the ties and pulled them off once untied. both ways, it’s an unintentional display of power, and i think that’s kinda cool.

again. dick is,,,tall? sort of? weirdddd

i’m so glad most readers are unified in the notion that this was the absolute dumbest fucking thing.

i’m hoping this gets disproved or something soon. and i hope dick doesn’t fall for it, because he definitely knows better than to take something as important as this at face value.

what exactly is taylor trying to accomplish here? why is he trying to go back on what we all knew was a happy, loving childhood and throw strife and disharmony and (what i’m assuming will be) infidelity? this will not end well at all.

---

,,,,,this review got way longer than expected lol. and i realize most of it just became me ranting. i guess i didn’t realize how ticked off i was originally. fingers crossed it gets better.

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @subtleappreciation @screennamealreadyused @bikoncon @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption @capricorn-stark @batshit-birds @comics-observer

#nightwing 81 #nightwing #dick grayson #dc #nightwing 81 meta #nightwing meta #dick grayson meta #dc meta #river thinks too hard

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chudleycanonficfest · 3 years

Text

Four Little Sips

Day 28, Post #2

Title: Four Little Sips

Author: JohnMcHacker

Pairings: Harry/Bill/Charlie (platonic), Harry/Ginny (romantic), Gryffindor Quidditch Team (platonic), Fred/George/Ron (platonic), Ron/Hermione (romantic)

Prompt: In Vino Veritas

Rating: PG

Trigger Warnings: Alcoholism, Referenced death, Language

Note to admin: Thanks for organising, this is my first time submitting, sorry if I'm late or if it doesn't meet requirements. I have also posted to the AO3 collection.

* * *

You see, Harry had never really had anyone just a few years older to look up to. Alright, there was Hermione, but they were classmates and best friends and at roughly the same place in life, it wasn’t the same.

That summer of 1998, in the wake of all that pain and death and sorrow, the Weasleys pulled together and pulled him in with them. On a few occasions, this meant having a few drinks with Bill and Charlie, in various nondescript Muggle pubs in the vicinity of Ottery St Catchpole.

“Just because Kingsley cut you some slack doesn’t mean you have to take the offer,” said Charlie. “You’ve spent your whole life fighting Voldemort, one way or anoher. You deserve to take a break. Live a little. Or else, what have you been fighting for?”

Harry thought of several memorable sunlit days, and found he couldn’t really disagree.

“Or at the very least, know why you’re putting your life on the line, once again,” said Bill. “Well, alright, you were the Chosen One, you had your job to do then. But now that that’s over, you ought to think twice why you’re risking your neck on your own account.”

“Well, I think I’d be good at it,” said Harry. “And someone has to do it. The Aurors are short-handed and too many of Voldemort’s thugs are still out there.”

Bill shook his head, munching a handful of chips. “That’s not good enough. Merlin knows I’d love a crack at the bastards myself. But your neck’s not just your own now, Harry. Ginny has a say too. That’s part of what being together means.”

“Muggle birds ain’t bad,” said Charlie, nodding at a trio of pretty college-age girls gathered round a table across the pub. They caught him watching, giggled, and winked in reply. “Don’t limit yourself to witches. But if you do, don’t mess ‘em around, play fair, and come clean as soon as you can.”

“The most important part of my relationship with Fleur is trust,” said Bill. “We don’t have secrets, and she trusts that I won’t suddenly run off hunting Death Eaters or dragons or Hor... whatever. And I trust her not to do the same.”

“Family’s what it comes down to,” said Charlie, draining his glass.

“Family,” nodded Bill. “Your first responsibility.”

“My shout,” said Harry, because that was something else they had taught him was right, to stand his round, and he went to the bar to get the drinks. When he returned, they had moved on to other important matters.

“Free advice, Potter, take it or leave it,” said Charlie, tapping the side of his nose, “women; you’ll never go wrong if you please ‘em first, know what I mean?”

“Oi! That’s our sister you’re talking about!” snapped Bill, trying not to laugh.

“So what? She’s got fi... four of you looking out for her. Maybe I just want to see fair play.” Charlie winked at Harry. “Let me tell you about what I call ‘wandless magic’, and trust me, it is magic.”

“That’s it, you’re done, Perce is my new number two, it’s you that Mum and Dad should disown...”

“There’s more where that came from, Harry. You want to know how to beat Ron at chess? He can’t play gambits worth a damn. Stick with me, I’ll show you something called a Smith-Morra, aye?”

Advice, experience, honour, laughter. Maybe this was what it was like to have older brothers, thought Harry. It filled a hole in him he never even knew he had.

* * *

Oliver would never have allowed it, but Angelina Johnson was a more fun-loving kind of Quidditch Captain. She passed the word around quietly, and so the five Gryffindor players above the age of sixteen met in the changing rooms fifteen minutes before Potter and the younger Weasley were due to arrive. Of course it was the Twins who’d acquired the goods, however they managed it. Fred produced the bottle of Ogden’s from somewhere under his robes with a flourish, and George grinned toothily as he conjured shot glasses from thin air.

“Alright, I know it was my idea, but just the one, got it?” warned Angelina, pouring the drinks herself.

“Aye aye, Captain,” said Fred. George sketched a sloppy salute her way.

Katie Bell was practically trembling with excitement and nerves. “Oooh, this’ll be my first drink ever,” she said, holding up the glass of amber liquid to catch the light. “Are you sure we won’t get caught?” she asked, looking around as if expecting McGonagall to burst out of a locker at any time.

“Course we can’t be sure,” said Alicia Spinnet. “That’s part of the fun!”

Angelina looked round at each of them, and shouted “For the Cup!”

“FOR THE CUP!” they chorused, and knocked back the Firewhiskey.

Two years later, the three Chasers were standing at the bar of the Hog’s Head, but they had Oliver back now, and Angelina knew somehow that that was important, they were going to go to Hogwarts and find Fred and George and Harry and reunite the whole Team, and it meant she had to do this. She leaned over the counter, rummaged through the grimy bottles and found what she was looking for.

“You’re mad!” said Oliver incredulously.

“Probably,” said Alicia cheerfully, “but we did this every match and still won the Cup, didn’t we? Sixth-years and above only, of course, we had standards,” she said, catching Oliver’s outraged look.

“Don’t tell me you’re going into a real battle and don’t want a drink, Oliver,” said Angelina calmly as she poured, and that was that.

Alicia and Katie and Oliver looked at her expectantly. Angelina searched for the words, and found there was really only one thing suited to the occasion. “Fuck Voldemort.”

“FUCK VOLDEMORT!”

And they did.

But oh God, the price they paid.

* * *

The Leaky was too well-known so they usually frequented a tiny hole-in-the-wall further down the street. The clientele was younger and the enchanted jukebox played muggle hits as well as the Weird Sisters, Mega Maggots, and the Bent Banshees, and that was perfect for the Twins. Perhaps half the entire current range of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes had first been dreamed up in this pub.

“Alright, alright, what about this, George? Prank greeting cards.”

“You’re crazy, Fred.”

“Cards that won’t stop singing. Howler cards. Exploding confetti cards. Exploding firework cards!”

George finished his beer and signalled to the barman for another. The barman hesitated, then poured as George slapped a handful of Sickles on the counter. “Confetti yes, fireworks, I dunno,” said George. “Cheers, Fred.”

“It’s brilliant I tell you. Mud in your eye,” said his twin brother, and they drank. Then, quietly, Fred asked: “How’s the family?”

“Same old. They’re doing well. You should see the sprogs, it’s a hoot,” snickered George. “Ron and Gin and Harry and good ol’ Hermione, sneaking around trying not to get caught shagging like rabbits. God, the sights I’ve walked in on...”

Fred chortled along with George, and he finished the pint. The bell over the door jingled and new customers came in, but the twins barely glanced that way.

“Speaking of which. About her... you should do something about it, George,” said Fred kindly. “I see all the signs and I know you do too. She’s waiting on you. Go be a gentleman, Georgey-boy, go on.”

George sighed. “Not you too. Look, I get enough of this crap from Bill and Charlie, alright?”

“You two need each other. Besides, it’s too quiet around the flat.”

All at once, George’s face crumpled. “You don’t get to say that. Not you. Not you! YOU don’t say that!”

Fred said nothing, he only smiled, and walked away. George turned his head quickly to follow him, but as always, Fred slid out the corner of his eye and was g...

And then it was another Weasley brother standing in front of him.

This time, it was Ron they’d sent. Good old Ron, lanky and solid and biting his lip in sympathy as he came to find his older brother sitting alone at the bar hunched over a half-empty glass. On the counter beside him was one untouched full pint, the frothy head long since evaporated.

“Come on, George,” said Ron gently. “There, I’ve got you. Let’s get you home.”

* * *

She was a girl made of facts and reason.

That was just the way she was wired.

“Dutch courage,” she said to herself, eyeing the glass of probably cheap plonk as if it was poison. Which technically it was.

“What’s that?” asked Ginny.

“Dutch courage,” she repeated. “It’s a muggle term, meaning the confidence gained from drinking alcohol, according to the Cambridge English Dictionary. Although,” she amended, “it’s derogatory to Dutch people and we probably shouldn’t say things like that.”

“I’ll keep that in mind in case I meet anyone from Orange Tulip Land,” said Ginny, rolling her eyes. “You certainly don’t need that sort of thing, Hermione, you’re one of the bravest people I know!”

Probably just hyperbole, thought Hermione, as that would be quite something, given that Ginny hung around with Aurors and Quidditch players and her boyfriend Harry Potter, or ‘His Excellency Most Spiffing Chosen Boy Who Lived To Kick Voldemort’s Arse’ as George called him. She picked up the glass, sipped it carefully, decided she quite liked the taste of Chateau Diagon Alley or whatever this was, and had a bigger swig.

Here’s a fun fact: it takes 6 minutes for the brain to react to alcohol.

Six minutes later, she didn’t think she felt any different. Warmer perhaps, but the New Year party was in full swing and Hermione thought maybe it was just the ambient temperature rising from all the people circulating, moving, dancing, talking, laughing.

Fun fact: drinking is ‘fun’ because alcohol lessens tension, eases social interaction, and reduces inhibitions.

Hermione sat in her corner and nursed her glass and knew she wasn’t really a social drinker, or any kind of drinker, or even at all ‘sociable’ to begin with. She envied how effortlessly Ginny and Bill and Parvati and everyone else were visibly enjoying themselves; Hermione would honestly prefer a nice book, a pot of peppermint tea, and perhaps with the company of...

Breathless from joking with Aurors and Obliviators and Patrolwizards and friends, Ron flung himself down beside her and threw an arm around her, and Hermione’s stomach fluttered pleasantly. “Alright there, Hermione?” He followed her gaze towards the wineglass. “Not poisoned, is it? Cause that’s no fun, believe me.”

Fact: I want to say I...

“That’s not funny, Ron, you could’ve died,” chided Hermione, although she couldn’t help giggling. “No, I just... it’s Dutch courage.”

“What’s that?” Hermione told him about English soldiers and gin and bravery, and the way he looked at her as he listened made her feel warm all over. “Nice. You know everything, Hermione,” Ron said admiringly.

“Not everything,” said Hermione wistfully. “I don’t know how to have fun at parties. Well, maybe that’s one more thing I do know now,” she joked lamely.

Fact: I...

Ron laughed at her probably atrocious attempt at humour, and said “Rubbish party anyway. Too many plonkers just wanting to be seen with heroes like Harry and Neville” (characteristically, Ron excluded himself from that category, Hermione observed) “and they’re only here because Kingsley said they absolutely had to be. I’d much rather have a quiet night in at home with you, Crookshanks, a nice fire, maybe a...”

No, I don’t know everything, thought Hermione. But I know this fact. “I love you, Ron Weasley.” And she grabbed him and snogged the hell out of him, ignoring the catcalls and cheers that rose all around.

Was it really the Dutch stuff, or was it all her own self, after all?

To be continued...

#chudleycanonficfest2021 #HP fest #hp canon pairings #canon fest platonic #canon fest romantic #submission #tw: alcoholism #tw: referenced death #tw: language

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freddiekluger · 3 years

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please drop the essay length analysis Judas and Jesus (extra gay Swedish edition), O great and knowledgeable monarch of our times

alright, you ask i deliver! please excuse any typos, my eyes aren't exactly working rn

welcome to my probably super subjective but correct analysis, aka

Judas Was Right and Jesus Was A Victim (At Least, In Swedish)

Before we get started, a couple points: i’ll try to avoid comparisons to other specific productions, i’ve only seen the other recorded 2012 british version which i didn’t like for reasons including but not limited to the amount of white people with dreadlocks. Also, my understanding of swedish is limited to a couple words and phrases, so most of the lyrics i reference will be english subtitles from Ola Salo’s swedish translation and therefore might not be the most accurate !

There’s so much i could cover in this, but for now i’m going to focus on how jesus and judas are portrayed in the 2014 swedish arena tour of Jesus Christ Superstar (JCS) starring Ola Salo as Jesus and Peter Johansson as Judas, along with how this production more implicitly views god.

From the opening number, translated into swedish as En Dimmig Himmelsdröm (A Foggy Heaven’s Dream), Peter Johansson’s acting and semantic differences in the lyrics present us with a deeply sympathetic portrayal of Judas. Looking purely at language, the english equivalent Heaven On Their Minds instantly paints Judas as much more of a faithless doubter- lyrics exclusive to the english version like “all your followers have gone blind / too much heaven on their minds” and “they think you’re the new messiah / and they’ll hurt you when they find they’re wrong” strongly enforce Judas’ main motivation for his actions being that he has less belief in Jesus and God’s plan than any of the other disciples with strong statements judging the other disciples for following him and claiming that Jesus ISN’T the messiah. The swedish translation doesn’t paint exactly the same picture- the focus of Judas’ number becomes his fear for Jesus’ wellbeing, not because he isn’t the messiah (the production remains fairly ambiguous on this point), but because Jesus can’t cope. The root of Judas’ concern comes from fear for Jesus’ wellbeing, and the disciples are referenced as regularly misunderstanding and wilfully twisting Jesus’ words. The swedish equivalent lyrics for the above examples are “they say, “jesus is god’s son” / but you know how people can change” (judas isn’t concerned with truth, just the danger that jesus will be in if the tide turns), and “the kingdom of heaven is within us, that’s what you said / bu they sew it, stitch by stich into some kind of foggy heaven’s dream”. Judas is showing that he HAS been listening and cares for Jesus’ teachings, but ‘they’ [his disciples] are turning them into something else entirely, and Judas’ worries that the support of the masses is fragile at best- the lines “and everything you say gets twisted by your lackeys / it will be anything but what you’ve said” and “you are being used by people who want you in their battle” reinforces this again. When combined with Peter Johansson’s tough but tender performance, in which he dances between disdain for Jesus, the institution, and affection for Jesus, the man (an important distinction), Judas is the harsh realist doing his best to look out for the man he loves. The way he takes Jesus hands and looks at him with love and urgency straight away establishes that his motivations are pure- Judas is doing what he thinks is best, even though it feels like no one will listen to him.

That was long, but En Dimmig Himmelsdröm is the perfect character introduction for Judas. He’s not totally unrecognisable, still delivering digs about ‘Jesus, the little carpenter’s son’, his manner is still rough and at this point we’re not sure whether or not the claims he makes about the disciples have any truth to them, BUT we can also see how much Jesus means to him, an important point that give context to the intensity of their future arguments and really makes the whole story much more heartbreaking.

This brings me to Ola Salo’s Jesus. Delightfully camp and queercoded, Judas describes him as being caught up in his own magic and mystery and buckling under the pressure, and he’s not entirely wrong. Throughout the first act, Jesus basks in the luxuries that being messiah can give him (the oils Mary paid for using disciple funds that were supposed to go towards helping the poor, him absolutely thriving in the shopping cart in What’s the Buzz?), and is shown actively avoiding any reminders of the seriousness of his position. He’s sick of the disciples asking him for a plan, he chooses the comforting Mary, who’s theme consists of telling Jesus everything is okay and he doesn’t need to think about anything, over Judas, who is less perhaps ‘cosy’ but is actively trying to warn and protect Jesus from an awful fate. During The Temple, he starts to crack as he’s overcome by the followers begging him to make him well, fear in his eyes as he raises his arms while frozen on the spot trying to avoid being devoured by the frenzy in desperate need of a messiah. Judas’ point about Jesus buckling under the pressure is starting to look more and more reasonable, and the dashes of showbiz campness add to the sense that much of Jesus is a persona constructed for the masses to give himself enough distance to prevent him from being crushed by the weight of God entirely. Jesus, the institution, prances around, lays his hands on his followers, and projects an air of easygoing calm. Jesus, the man, is scared and alone, and Jesus, the man, really comes out in Last Supper, but before we get there, I want to circle back to the Jesus/Mary/Judas thing.

Jesus, Mary, and Judas are presented as a love triangle: so much so, that Judas seeing Mary sing of her love for Jesus (I Don’t Know How To Love Him) is actually played as the inciting incident that sends him to the pharisees. Judas, the picture of the jealous lover, storms onto the scene, breaking them up and attempting to kiss Jesus, who instead shoves him to the ground in disdain. Judas, who is perhaps a little controlling, realises that any influence he had over Jesus has gone, and it’s likely a combination of jealousy and the knowledge that Jesus won’t stop that prompts him to head to the pharisees. In his meeting with the pharisees (known in english as Damned For All Time, although that phrase doesn’t appear once in the swedish), Judas’ expresses outright that “I’m the one who sees / Jesus, he can’t handle it anymore” “the truth is that this hysteria is making him lose control”, once he can get past explaining how much this plan of action feels like a last resort. He never even verbally or physically accept the pharisees’ offer of money, he denies it twice before it is eventually thrown over him after he reluctantly gives them the date and time to find Jesus- we never even see him pick it up, unlike other productions which show Judas grabbing for the cash and place a higher emphasis on Judas making sure he ‘won’t be damned for all time’, painting Judas as far more self serving. When it comes to Jesus, Judas is active- he’s running around trying to help, caressing him, embracing him, grabbing his hand, kissing him. They share countless moment of intimacy, especially at the start, establishing the fondness between them instead of instantly jumping to their conflict. When it comes to Mary (and admittedly, this is partially because she’s a secondary character- don’t get me wrong I still love her and Gunilla Backman does a brilliant job), she’s much more passive. Other than the much more gentle kisses in I Don’t Know How To Love Him and her penchant for dabbing Jesus’ forehead, she’s mostly just ‘there’. She cares for Jesus after the fact, and even when performing acts of intimacy like the oil and the kiss, she maintains a lot of physical distance- her songs touch on this as, much like Jesus (admittedly for different reasons), she actively distances herself from feelings to protect herself, so naturally she literally places distance between herself and the object of her love.

This brings me back to Last Supper, Gethsemane ( I Only Want to Say), and the kiss of death that broke all of our hearts. Throughout this segment, this is when Jesus, the man, really comes through, and it’s devastating. In Last Supper, he properly expresses the sheer amount of loneliness he feels, reiterating how he feels everyone will forget about him once he’s gone, and doesn’t really care about him as a man (”for you, my blood is not worth more than wine / for you, my body is not worth more than bread” “you will have forgotten me as soon as i give up my life”). This devolves into the disciples fighting each other and, you guessed it, ignoring him. For the first time, Jesus meaningfully lets out his anger, and as it turns to Judas, Judas does the same. Because of the set up of their complicated romantic relationship and the stakes involved, the amount of personal attacks and anger that comes out of Jesus and Judas’ repeated fights (which get physical) make complete sense- Jesus’ frustrations come from the fact that his entire fate has been predetermined and to him, Judas is just another instrument in the ways he’s been controlled (both with Judas being his betrayer, but also the way that Judas’ constant advice and interference with Jesus’ life (most obviously, the mary thing) are acted by Ola Salo as becoming increasingly frustrating to Jesus)- these frustrations are directed at their real cause, God, in Gethsemane. Judas’ frustrations come from the fact that no matter how hard he tries to help Jesus and keep him safe, Jesus keeps rejecting his efforts resulting in “all that we’ve built up [being] destroyed”- Judas’ heart hasn’t just been broken by Jesus rejecting him romantically, but on every level. Here, he’s actually shown to be the disciple most passionate about helping people practically and long term, being the only one concerned about Mary taking money which was supposed to help people, manipulated by the pharisees with the promise of doing good for the masses, and criticising Jesus for how they could be doing so much for people, ending his part of Last Supper with “every time i look at you i ask myself why you let all your things go so wrong? / all i ever wanted was to help you”.

This is also the point where Judas’ claims about the disciples are essentially confirmed, and this productions intent to portray Judas as more of a tragic hero become absolutely clear. In the english version, the disciples chorus remains virtually the same each time it appears, generally being far too calm considering their leader is about to die, revealing their aspirations to be apostles, and their intent to write the gospels to be remembered. the swedish translation still achieve this, but with variations from chorus to chorus it becomes much more poignant. i’m just going to stick to ttwo, which are choruses 1 and 3. In chorus 1, lines roughly translate to “i’ve always wanted to be an apostle / life is so nice when you’re saved/ then when we’ve got time we’ll write the gospels / then everything will be the way we want”- the apostles declaring that life is so good when you’re saved supports Judas’ opening statement that they care more about some idea of heaven than anything else, not to mention ignoring the absolute horrors that Jesus will have to go through to be saved, while the final line about the gospels introduces their intent to change whichever details they need to make ‘everything the way we want’: once again, exactly what Judas warned us of in En Dimmig Himmelsdröm. In chorus 3, taking place after Judas storms out for the last time, these lines change to “never really liked that judas / never saw what jesus saw in him / then, when we’ve got time we’ll write the gospels / and we’ll angle it so he gets all the blame”. Judas as a sympathetic character is confirmed here, as the disciples straight up admit how they don’t like Judas anyways and intend to write him as a villain (also inadvertently admitting that, since they have to write the gospels to make it look like only Judas’ fault, Judas isn’t really the sole one responsible for everything that is to come). It’s deeply unsettling, and for me was the point where I really began to question how good any of these disciples were, and by extension, how good is this production’s God if his truly sanctified followers are acting like this?

Jesus vents out all of his anger and desperation in Gethsemane. He acknowledges his own powerlessness and begs him to change the plan, but with the dark stage and no response (along with Ola Salo’s spectacular acting) it becomes clear that if anyone is there, they’re certainly not listening (”you, who have all the power / can you please change the plan / for i can already feel the pain burning in me”). It’s worth mentioning that a lot of the imagery in this swedish version is much more intense than the english, both in this song and the production as a whole. Jesus plainly calls god “thoughtless”, begging to understand, and it’s that this point we realise that he agrees with much more of what Judas has been saying than he’s been letting on- Jesus’ faith appears to be the only thing keeping him from listening to Judas and running away. Judas’ messages about people misunderstanding Jesus’ words also come out (”you care that everyone sees / but not that anyone understands”), and his eventual agreeing to die is played less as an inspiring act of faith, and more an act of desperation as he realises, he realise has no other choice. In this song, we see just how much of Judas Jesus has valued and taken on board, and that his air of carefree aloofness which frustrated Judas was, as we’ve already touched on, a complete act. The line “might as well finish what i’ve... what YOU’VE started” is absolutely miserable, reinforcing one of the major themes of this production: the idea that Jesus and Judas were both just ordinary men tormented by futures defined by forces out of their control. Just as Jesus has absorbed Judas’ logic, as an audience so we have, and it’s difficult to view the rest of the play’s events as anything other than an immense and unnecessary act of cruelty.

we’re almost done i promise!

Even knowing what Judas has/will do, Jesus still greets him with love. Judas, still under the impression that Jesus will be okay and that he’s doing what’s best, approaches him with the utmost tenderness, and the kiss is a beautiful signifier of two things. For Jesus, the return of his love for Judas shows his realisation in Gethsemane that Judas isn’t the one who’s sealed his fate and has only being trying to help, it’s god himself who has decided Jesus’ future. For Judas, the kiss shows that despite all of the anger and frustration that has been pouring out of him, he truly does love Jesus, and the way he cradles the scared and alone Jesus to his chest afterwards shows just how much he wishes he could be the one to help him and keep him close. Even with all their arguments and dysfunction, here Jesus and Judas find comfort in each other, and it almost seems like everything will end up alright. It’s in this moment that Judas and Jesus are most identifiable not as enemies, or as villain and hero, but as archetypal lovers from a Shakespearean tragedy. Neither of them set out to hurt each other, but through miscommunications, their own flaws, and external forces (both natural and supernatural), their love is simply never to be. Furthermore, in the following torture and spectacle, everything that Judas predicted for Jesus is about to come true. Another detail I find interesting is the way that Jesus and Judas both sport black nail polish, leather pants, and similar length hair: along with just looking cool as hell, the similarities really reinforce how close they are and how much they influence each other- it feels like a contemporary version of carrying a cameo or a lock of your lover's hair with you, a way for 'star crossed lovers' to keep a piece of their beloved no matter what.

The disaffected persona of Jesus, the institution, comes back as he’s taken by the authorities and subsequently insulted, degraded, and whipped. Also the swedish version of The Arrest, when the chorus starts singing questions, contains this dick joke and I think we all deserve it: “why were you dating a whore? / talk about a huge magic wand!”

Skipping forward to Judas’ Death, this is where both his character and the production’s conception of god beautifully (and miserably) align. When Judas runs to the pharisees, minor semantic changes (along with the genuine concern and great acting from Peter Johansson) reinforce that this Judas genuinely didn’t know that Jesus would be beaten and sentenced to death the way he has been, and Judas’ concern regarding how things look is played less as ‘oh no people will hate ME!’, but how having sentenced the man you love to death is one nightmarish thing, but for everyone to think you did it knowingly and willingly and then congratulate you for it is unthinkable. Where the english shows Judas’ attempting to evade responsibility for Jesus death, the swedish is more focused on Judas’ guilt, horror, and regret. The english “I’d save him all the suffering if I could / don’t believe our good / save him if I could” is swapped in swedish for “If anyone should die here I should / don’t say I’m good / better if I died”. While the english statements are somewhat empty (sure, Judas says he’d save Jesus’ suffering if he could, but he can’t so we’ll never truly know) and are still focused on Judas’ attempt to construct himself as a good guy, the swedish translation has Judas admit his guilt (even if it’s not really his fault), and make the promise of “better if i died” which, given the name of this sequence, he later delivers on. When english Judas sings “Christ, I’d sell out the nation / For I have been saddled with the murder of you”, swedish Judas sings “Jesus, I’ve been deceived / because of my act your blood’s now being spilt”, and instead of ending this first section with “I should be dragged through the slime and the mud”, swedish jesus returns to the theme of character assasination with “i will be cursed as the one behind your murder”.

The swedish translation of the next rework of I Don’t Know How to Love Him also places much more emphasis on Judas’ genuine romantic love for Jesus- we’d be here for hours if i listed everything but here are a few key contrasts. The english has Judas sing “I don’t know how to love him / I don’t know why he moves me”, whereas the swedish has Judas crying while singing “how do I show my love / all I want is to be close to you”. Along with acknowledging Judas already loves Jesus, the entirety of this segment is shifted from Judas singing about Jesus in the third person ‘he’, to a direct address. Judas isn’t performing his sadness, or venting his emotions, he’s emitting one last desperate cry to the man he loves as he sobs on a stage completely shrouded in darkness, and it’s devastating. Peter Johansson lets his voice run raw as he’s belting, and interrupts lines with sobs, and this Judas answers the question of “do you love me too? do you care for me?” with a quiet “no”- Judas is about to go to his death convinced Jesus must hate him, just as Jesus will face his knowing his love inadvertently put him there.

We finally reach Judas’ actual death, and the production’s far more ambiguous (if not negatively geared) depiction of god comes to a head. Judas’ screaming at god the moment he realises that his god essentially forced Judas to be the one to kill Jesus (an act of ultimate cruelty given their love) comes across as horrifying in it’s validity, unlike in other english language productions where it follows the more common characterisation of Judas being an unbeliever who can’t take responsibility for his own actions. When he spits on the ground, screaming “you have murdered me!”, we can’t help but agree- Judas was trying everything he could to stop Jesus from dying, and yet here he is. Most notably, Judas doesn’t set up his own suicide- a noose literally descends from the heavens, already tied, and Judas is literally trapped between the edge of the stage, and the symbol of death behind him. Much like he didn’t choose to kill Jesus, Judas has no choice in his own suicide- it’s suggested to merely be another part of the plan god has for him, and Judas raising his arms to form a crucifixion pose before he finally turns and jumps, disappearing into the depths of the theatre as the rope trails down (somewhat evocative of a leap to hell), highlight the sick joke. Much like Jesus begging in Gethsemane, a plea with god that in anyway implies fault or cruelty is met with silence followed by a death sentence.

When Judas reappears to the broken and bloodied Jesus in Superstar, he appears as more of a twisted hallucination than the literal spirit of Judas. He’s the opposite of everything he was in life, draped in colour, surrounded by red lighting instead of the signature blue, his hair quite literally let down, joking and dancing. Despite singing about him, Judas virtually ignores Jesus for the whole song except when he’s taunting him, snatching his hand away after a broken and desperate Jesus reaches out for the image of his beloved (refuting Judas’ belief that Jesus would die hating him), along with the swedish additions of Judas repeatedly addressing him as “little Jesus”. Where the living Judas was serious, sometimes harsh but always well intention, often paying more attention to Jesus than he received, this Judas is the opposite: light hearted but cruel, not caring about Jesus one bit. It’s somewhat an inversion of the beginning of JCS, where the tormented Judas was constantly reaching out to Jesus, and often met with scorn and insult (see: most of their arguments, this line from Everything’s Alright: “the thought is beautiful but quite unrealistic / yes, even quite stupid”). As the song goes on, and even as Jesus is crucified, the victorious scoring of the Superstar theme ends up reinforcing the cruelty and questioning of god distinctive of this production: Ola Salo’s Jesus is one of the bloodiest Jesus’s (Jesii?) I’ve been able to find, with blood covering his torso, his arms, and all over his face, not in passive dribbles, but violent ‘swooshes’ spreading out from his eyes, emphasising the fear and pain contained within them. As the music suggests how great and wonderful Jesus’ death is, the images straight out of a horror movie before us don’t seem to match up: as both Judas and Jesus question, if no one is understanding what Jesus is saying, why kill him? instead of making a point, you’re ensuring that the falsehoods continue to circulate, unless spreading the true message isn’t really the intent at all. or, simply that Jesus was wrong: his interpretation and teachings of god were far too kind and practical, and the true god really is the one that he briefly saw in the garden of Gethsemane, and that Judas saw before his death- a cruel and vindictive god using them for his own sick purposes. If you're a strong Christian, I'm sure you could watch this production and still believe that God was right (although I think Jesus and Judas being in love counts as blasphemy), but I think in doing so you'd lose part of what makes this production so hard hitting and, as i keep saying, devastating.

that’s pretty much it for this one! i feel like jesus and judas as a queer couple is less significant to this production than the fact that it’s specifically jesus and judas that are in love - they don’t face explicit homophobia as such, although i do think the paratextual and historical associations of queerness (both with them each looking visibly queer, and them as a couple) adds a beautiful dimension by subverting the standard christian teaching of Jesus’ sacrifice as “a love that changed the world” and making the love that truly could have been transformative (and was, to a degree) the love between Jesus and another man, not to mention the way in which queerness is often viewed as radical perfectly upholding the ‘radical’ views of god and the story of Jesus shown in the production. Why wouldn’t the love between two men be the love which has us questioning god, faith, and that which many of us have been taught since birth? Ola Salo has talked about how he’s able to be positive and negative towards christianity, along with how he wanted Jesus and Judas to really represent two sides of the same coin (’faith and intelligence’), and being bisexual along with having alluded to being raised christian (not to mention Breaking Up With God, a song by his band The Ark), it’s not surprising he’s managed to present such a nuanced and layered interpretation of Jesus Christ Superstar that even me, a trans exvangelical, can fall in love with.

UPDATE: @bands-and-hobbits has just let me know that Ola's dad was a priest! Apparently he's said that he liked the organs and the music, but that was all when it comes to christianity, which (when combined with Ola stating in interviews that the JCS soundtrack has been one of his favourite albums since he was 14) makes a lot of sense about the level of familiarity he had with the text giving him confidence to go in and make changes to really capitalised off of some of the themes that are hinted at in the english version- you have enough information to understand how everything works together, but aren't so dedicated to preserving belief that you feel you can't improve/change things (and my god are we glad he did)

#thank you if you made it this far!#also the inherent rhythm in swedish as a language just makes all of the songs sound better i'm gonna say it #english is really hit and miss when it comes to music and can get especially clunky with musicals requiring exposition #also sorry there's so much i've left out !#anyways enjoy #jesus christ superstar #jesus christ superstar swedish arena tour 2014 #jcs #peter johansson #ola salo #also i have barely edited this so i hope it's coherent

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ascalonianpicnic · 3 years

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so the twisted marionette is back and it seems like a good time for this~ @mystery-salad requested I do an essay on Scarlet and discrimination in STEM so~

Warning: discussions of sexism, racism, and ableism. If I got anything wrong (in terms of real world issues) or was disrespectful in any way about certain subjects please let me know

Hey, let's talk about Scarlet Briar.

More specifically, I wanna talk about Ceara, and how she became Scarlet Briar. Because I'm a gay mathematician and former computer science major, and I think Scarlet is cool.

So let's start here. STEM (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics) is a heavily male dominated set of fields and career paths. A few decades back in the real world, there was this deep set societal belief, at least in western society, that cis women were just "worse" at STEM related things like math and chemistry. It's not as visible of an issue now, but, like I said, STEM fields are still really male dominated, and that's because STEM fields still have a massive issue with sexism. Women have full on left the field due to the sexism they faced in workplaces in just the last decade. Trans women in STEM share really interesting and important personal accounts about how before transitioning, they were treated with respect, offered high level jobs, and entrusted with loads of responsibility, and how post transition, despite having even more experience, are offered significantly lower level jobs, worse pay, and are all around treated like they know less. STEM has a sexism problem.

So, why is this important to Scarlet? Well, her backstory and her life before Omadd's Machine actually tie in to this real world issue in a really fascinating way. It's about Respect. And Scarlet's story is about how she was denied respect over and over, because she was a sylvari, because she was a woman, and because she was neurodivergent. Let's talk about Ceara.

Ceara was a sylvari secondborn, and an engineer from the start. She emerged from the Pale Tree when her race was still brand new to the world and largely unknown. She spent 8 years of her life studying all the Grove had to offer her about mechanics and nature and the universe. She was born curious and as such, was determined to learn everything and anything she could get her hands on. After her time in the Grove, Ceara left, off to find new teachers and extend her knowledge further. After the Grove cane Beigarth, a famed norn smith. He gladly took Ceara under his wing, seeing her genius and potential. For a year, she trained under him, his best student. Then, much to his dismay, she left, feeling she had learned all he could offer about what she wanted to know. She moved south, going to study under iron legion gladium and demolitionist Asagai. Asagai was an old charr, and it took some convincing on Ceara's end, but she eventually took the sylvari in and taught her about gunsmithing and artillery. And after two years, Ceara moved on again, this time heading for Rata Sum and its colleges.

The asura of Rata Sum did Not like Ceara. She had to fight to be allowed to study at the colleges. She won in the end, being admitted into the college of Dynamics. Within a year, she finished the course work, and, feeling like she was finally getting somewhere, she applied again, this time getting admitted to Statics. Two years and two colleges down, at the top of her class both times, Scarlet still wanted more. The Arcane council was curious now if she could keep this streak up, so they let her enter Synergetics. This was what she had been looking for, and she got deep into her studies, taking her time. The Arcane council was unimpressed with her work at best. While not driven from the colleges, she found herself being walked off and looked down on more and more, so she sought other sources. These other sources, both of knowledge and support, came from the inquest, and it wasn't long before she fell in deep. It didn't last, however. When the krewe she was working with ran into trouble, she was abandoned as a scapegoat, and thrown out of the asuran colleges. She wandered on her own for a while, taking the time to study alchemy with the michotl hylek, but mostly keeping to herself. Until Omadd found her, pulled her back into his personal research, and, with her help, built Omadd's machine. Once it was finished, Ceara walked in, and Scarlet walked out.

Sexism in STEM means that people perceived as female are often perceived as knowing or understanding less than they actually do. It's because of this that you'll find young cis male students in STEM classes trying to correct or speak over their female presenting professors. It's why you'll find men at science conferences telling the women presenting for certain topics that they don't seem to understand the topic they're covering or grasp the basics that well, and then recommending or referencing books and research papers written by these women. It means that women will often be overlooked for internships, research positions, and grants. And that is the sort of thing Scarlet faced as a young woman trying to learn everything she could. She had to work for the apprenticeships she could get, and with Beigarth, despite how highly he thought of her, she had to work harder to prove she was ready for more each step of the way. Finding anyone to teach her at all among the charr was a struggle, until an older woman took her in. And no one in Rata Sum took her seriously.

There was more than just the fact that Scarlet was a woman at play with Rata Sum though. As stated, STEM has a bad sexism problem. But that's not all. STEM isn't just mostly men, but also mostly white men, and as such, the fields have a bit of a racism problem as well. Personally, I can only speak so much to this as I myself am white, have never faced racism, and never will face racism. I do know that the intelligence, skill, and effort of people of color goes largely unacknowledged. They will be denied the same opportunities and respect that their white peers receive, and their work and contributions will be ignored, exploited, and stolen.

Racism in Tyria isn't the same as it is in the real world, though it is still present there, and prevalent. And it is something Scarlet has to face and struggle with repeatedly as a sylvari. The sylvari are young and new to Tyria. Because of this, the other prominent groups all tend to think of sylvari as innocent, ignorant, and overly naive. The asura are especially bad about this. They already think of themselves as the smartest of Tyria's inhabitants, above everyone else. And when they first encounter the sylvari, the asura refuse to believe this new group could even be sentient. So, when 11 year old Ceara shows up at the colleges, the Arcane Council and the asura in general doubt she could possibly understand asuran studies. She's a sylvari, after all, and just a girl on top of that. There's surely no way she could keep up.

So when this young sylvari girl finishes at the top of her class in just a year, not once but twice, the Arcane council is intrigued. They don't respect her. They don't hold her work in high esteem. But they do want to know if this is some sort of fluke or if she can do it again. So she's admitted into the third and final college, and when she gets caught up in her studies, genuinely interested and invested in what she's learning and wanting to take her time to take it all in, the Council is disappointed. Never mind that Scarlet has already done what no other non-asura has. She took too long doing what she loved, learning, so the Council dismisses her, and dismisses her hard work. Her theories are looked down upon and ignored, and she is left with only support from Omadd, who can use her and her theories for his own gain, and the inquest. Omadd and the inquest make her feel valued and respected. The inquest let's her try anything she wants, it lets her really explore the fields of study she's most drawn to. The inquest makes sure to profit off her hard work and, when it comes down to it, the inquest leaves her to take the fall for everything. It's easy, after all, to pin the blame on someone already so looked down on by the society she's in. Scarlet is kicked out of the colleges and the city. She loses her access to information, her belongings, and even her own research and findings. All her hard work, taken from her because the inquest was more than glad to use a sylvari.

And then of course, there's Omadd. He was glad to have Scarlet as a lab assistant, and endlessly fascinated by and supportive of her work. So once she's gone from Rata Sum, he leaves too, taking her research and starting on his own personal project. He gets stuck, he seeks Scarlet out, and he convinces her to help him again. Once Scarlet is back on board, the project goes smoothly and the two construct Omadd's Machine. Omadd's. Despite being built off Scarlet's theories and research, despite her being integral to the construction of this machine, it's Omadd's and it carries his name. Funny how that happens, isn't it? And once the machine is up and running, he thinks Scarlet should test it first. Who knows what could happen in there, better to leave it up to the assistant to try it out, and frame it as her getting the honor of the first try. As we all know, it goes poorly. Scarlet learns so much more, all the knowledge she had been seeking for over a decade, but in return, the seeds of Mordremoth are planted in her mind and slowly take over, destroying her.

Now Scarlet, who has been used and devalued and disrespected and infantilized every step of the way, her whole life, is going to start tearing down the things that held her back for so long. She just needs a plan, and with the help of a certain sleeping dragon, one begins to form.

There's something I glossed over earlier that is so important to note, and that's how Scarlet was treated in the Grove. Now, it's been stated explicitly by Scott McGough, a narrative designer for the fame, that Scarlet emerged with lacking empathy. Low empathy doesn't make Scarlet, or anyone, a bad person. It's sometimes a symptom of autism, as well as some personality disorders, and it does affect how Scarlet is treated. As an autistic person myself, Scarlet very much reads as autistic to me, between low empathy, a one track mind, and an intense special interest in the universe and its mechanics. She has a hard time connecting with others, is easily bored by subjects that don't relate back to her special interest, can focus intently on and get caught up in her work, and doesn't really get social graces or expectations. Regardless of any diagnosis she would have if she existed in our world, Scarlet is treated differently due to her low empathy, a trait she cannot help about herself.

From the moment she emerges in the Grove, she is treated differently. She is talked down to. Her desire to take in her first sights and how it overwhelms her is dismissed as overconfidence and rudeness. Her own brother, barely older than her, talks like he knows so much more than her. Scarlet is an outsider among her own people. How does it feel to have low empathy among a race connected to each other deeply through empathy? Probably not great. Her studies in the Grove are limited, she is treated as rude and prideful for wanting to be independent and needing space. Rather than being accommodated, rather than being understood, Scarlet is infantilized, dismissed, and disregarded. She isn't neurotypical. She was born different. She's punished for it.

When she emerges from Omadd's Machine, made from her own hard work and creativity, Scarlet Briar is a young woman who has frequently been overlooked and rarely understood. All these thoughts and ideas, all this passion, and the only people who have ever even seemed to understand her have used and betrayed her so thoroughly. Scarlet Briar has always had to look out for and take care of herself, as a woman, as a sylvari, as someone who is neurodivergent and is in a field that doesn't respect a single aspect of her identity. The world won't accommodate her and the world won't take her seriously. So why shouldn't she show the world what she can do? Why not force everyone to recognize her for who she is? Why not give in just a little to that voice that has been calling to her in her nightmares since she left the machine? After all, it promises power and recognition and a sense of belonging.

#gw2 #guild wars 2 #scarlet briar #my essays #anyway uvu

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