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no-phrogs-in-hats · 2 months ago

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Lifeboat 14

Pre-Avenger!Agatha x Pre-Avenger!Reader

Word count: 3,844

Chapter warnings: It's the Titanic; mass death, drowning, violence, non-explicit smut, reader vomits

Summary: Before you were an Avenger, you lived a much different life--one where you waited on hand and foot for the upper class. Being a stewardess, you've met plenty of fascinating people, but none more fascinating than first-class Titanic passenger, Agatha Harkness.

A/N: I was watching the new Titanic documentary and realized that's exactly how I want the reader and Agatha to meet. So I dug deep into my AuDHD and got out my books and looked up primary sources (both are linked below), and voila. Also I highly recommend listening to "Hard to Starboard", "The Sinking", and "Death of Titanic" from the Titanic soundtrack while reading this.

Link to the Titanic soundtrack

Link to Mary Sloan's letter to her sister after the sinking

Link to Violet Jessop's memoir

Information about Lifeboat 14

Tip Jar💕

April 14th, 1912

8:00pm

You’re pressed against the wall of her first-class suite. Her hands grip and knead at the layers of your skirt as her lips brush down your neck.

“You left in the middle of dinner,” you breathe.

“I know,” she groans, “but when you looked at me like that when lacing up my corset, when your hand brushed mine serving my tea, well…I just couldn’t help myself.”

Agatha Harkness is like no other passenger you’ve served. No matter what ship you’re serving on, first-class passengers are always the same: stuck up, rude, and petty. And yes, she’s stuck up, sometimes rude, and sometimes petty, but your position now and the genuine care she seems to show you, sets her apart from the rest. The Titanic is called ‘The Ship of Dreams’ and gauging where you are right now, you might just have to agree with that name.

“The Astors, the Guggenheims, not even the chairman of White Star Line himself can compare to you, sweetheart,” she husks. “To them, wealth is double-breasted tuxedos and imported cigars. You, however, are worth much more than any material possession.”

You let out a breathy moan at her words and her lips press into yours, tongue brushing against yours. “You need to get back to the dining room.”

Agatha hums against your lips, “Dinner’s finished in fifteen minutes, my darling. Time goes by quickly when you’re having fun, doesn’t it?”

You pull away, running your hands over her waist, feeling the boning of the corset beneath her dinner dress. Time does indeed go by quickly when you’re having fun. “I need to go,” you say softly. “Quite a few female passengers like tea when they return to their rooms, and I don’t think they’d like it if I were late…again.”

With a smug look, she squeezes your hips through the fabric of your skirt. “You’re right. I’d hate to be responsible for any misconduct on your part…again.”

In your ten years of being a stewardess, every voyage had been uneventful. Every voyage had been filled with the same routine–wake up early, eat breakfast quickly, serve breakfast and morning tea to whatever cabins you were assigned to, tidy the rooms, and whatever else was asked of you afterwards. It could be tedious and boring, but many times you were overwhelmed with requests–of course, though, a little magic never hurt while making the beds, and darning dresses always went by quicker with a simple spell.

But no matter how exhausted you were, you had always been obedient, always arrived in a timely manner. You were the perfect stewardess. Polite, willing, everything a servant should be.

But now, you’re falling.

You’re making careless mistakes. You’re being reprimanded two days into the voyage because you blanked on a woman’s request after Agatha Harkness, the most impossible passenger you’ve ever encountered, made a flirty remark about not traveling with a maid. And now, four days into the seven day voyage, you woke up in this woman’s bed–a bed nicer than any mattress you’ll probably ever sleep on.

“I usually have some spare time around eleven,” you say.

Her hand comes up to hold your chin lightly. “Well, why don’t you meet me on the first-class starboard side boat deck at…let’s say, eleven-twenty, for a walk in the fresh air.”

“Just a walk?” you ask pointedly, smiling and raising an eyebrow.

“Just a walk,” she repeats, and tucks a piece of hair back into your bonnet.

“Alright,” you say. “Eleven-twenty, starboard side boat deck.”

You kiss her lightly on the lips and rush out of the room to prepare the tea for the other suites. The next three hours go by so painfully slowly. They’re filled with laundry and darning and polishing shoes, and it doesn’t help that you’re looking at the clock every five minutes.

By the time your duties are finished, and the women you’re assigned to have relieved you of your duties, it’s nearly eleven-fifteen. You hurry through the halls of B-Deck until you’re at the grand staircase, climbing each step quickly until you’re at the boat deck level.

When you walk outside it’s just past eleven-twenty and the cold, crisp air of the North Atlantic burns your nose. Despite the warm lights on the boat deck, the ship is engulfed in an inky blackness, steaming ahead through an endless void.

You spot Agatha almost immediately. She’s at least ten yards away, leaning forward on the parapet and looking out. Walking up behind her, your voice is small, “Hi.”

She turns around, her smile teasing, but the look of relief in her eyes softens her words. “I was beginning to think you had gone off to bed.”

“No rest for the wicked,” you muse, standing beside her.

The walk on the boat deck is slow and leisurely. Most passengers have retreated to the warmth of their rooms or the public lounges, and what remains on the deck is the crew. You look down the deck at the bridge where officers stand in the distance, talking quietly.

“There were six iceberg warnings today,” you mumble. “Apparently the wireless operators are stubborn asses when it comes to incoming messages from other ships.”

Agatha side-eyes you with a grin, her head held high. “Oh? And how would you know that?”

“A couple crew members are quite friendly with me,” you say matter-of-factly.

“Fraternizing with your colleagues?” she teases. “So unprofessional.”

You laugh quietly as she takes your hand and pulls you up a short set of steps and onto the raised platform. Being backed into a small, hidden nook, you giggle, “I’d argue that this is more unprofessional.”

Agatha kisses you lightly and her hands hold your waist. “And what is this?”

You open your mouth to respond but all that comes out is another giggle, “I…don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” she chuckles.

“I don’t,” you smile, kissing her again. Your next words are soft. “But…I do know that I want t–”

Three bells ring out and your blood runs cold.

It all happens in less than a minute.

“What is it?” Agatha asks, noticing the startled expression on your face.

“Three bells,” you mumble. “There’s something up ahead.”

You listen for the commotion that would be just yards away on the bridge. Your ears feel like a cat’s, turning in every direction for even the slightest bit of sound. And then you hear it.

“Hard-a-starboard!”

Officer Moody’s familiar voice shouts out in the night and a domino of other officers’ voices repeats the command. With the bridge being in your sight, you focus your eyes down the deck, watching as officers hurry over the bridge in the chaos.

“We need to get inside,” you affirm, adrenaline rushing your gut and making you nauseous as you take her hand. You rush the both of you toward the platform stairs, but when you’re at the railing you’re forced to stop.

The floorboards beneath your feet start to shake and the railing you’re holding onto begins to tremble in its divots. As Agatha braces herself beside you, hand still in yours, you look up–the night outside of the ship is vast and endless, but it’s disturbed by the towering figure of an iceberg.

It’s at least a hundred feet above the waterline, looming over the boat deck as the shaking slowly comes to a stop and pieces of ice litter the well deck. On the bridge, just in the distance, you can see Officer Moody standing as still as a statue and you notice how quiet it’s become.

“The engines are off,” you say, finally stepping down the stairs. You make the walk back to the first class passenger entry and when you’re back in her room you throw open the doors to the wardrobe and toss her a life vest. “Put this on and go back up to the starboard side boat deck. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

You don’t give her a chance to respond, simply leaving her with a kiss on the cheek and rushing out the door. You turn right down the hall of B-Deck, quick in your steps as you go from room to room, knocking on doors and rousing sleepers.

You have to practically beg them to put their life vests on. Most have no idea what’s happening, and in truth, you don’t know either. “Unsinkable” is a hard standard to live up to.

On your way to C-Deck, you almost run straight into the ship’s builder, apologizing profusely.

“Mr. Andrews,” you begin, your voice trying to keep steady as you notice the rolls of maps and blueprints tucked under his arm. “I saw the iceberg. The ship is sinking, isn’t it?”

He looks at you and his eyes are soft, almost pleading with you to not make him admit it aloud. But he relents, “The mailroom is afloat. Five compartments are flooded. Don’t cause a panic, but you need to get a life vest on and wake the other passengers. Get to a lifeboat as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, sir,” you say quietly, and watch as he rushes down the grand staircase. You continue through C-Deck, informing the other stewardesses of the situation at hand.

“Don’t cause a panic,” you tell them. “Captain’s orders–have them put on their life vests and go to the boat deck.”

By half-past midnight, you’re almost running through the halls. Crowds of passengers have formed at each landing of the staircase and you and other service staff hand out life vests to anyone without one.

“Ma’am, please,” you beg one woman. “It’s Captain’s orders. You need to put on a life vest” Most of the passengers are convinced it’s simply a drill and you witness another woman send her own maid back to her room to start a fire and prepare tea.

It’s almost ten past one when you finally make it to the boat deck, starboard side just as you told Agatha. Your life vest provides no protection against the freezing air, and your breath comes out in bursts of white clouds as you look desperately over the heads of unruly passengers.

The deck has fallen into utter disrepair. Passengers push their way into lifeboats while others fall from the ship’s edge into the frigid water. Officers shout commands and seamen yell at the men trying to force themselves into boats, but through it all, the only thing you’re worried about is finding Agatha.

As you run through the crowd, pushing through people and tripping over ropes, you catch sight of Mr. Andrews one last time. In your few days of knowing him, you had never heard him raise his voice–and this time was no different, even in the midst of panic.

“Number five only had twelve, Mr. Lightoller! Twelve!” he huffs. “These boats are built to withstand the weight of sixty-four men!” When Officer Lightoller surrenders to the argument, he nods and Thomas Andrews begins helping him load more women and children into the boat one last time.

And still, as you continue, Agatha is nowhere to be found. By the time you’re on the port side, the ship has a noticeable list and there are even more people than the starboard side contains.

“Agatha!” you scream, voice raw with desperation. “Agatha!”

But from what you see, the majority of the passengers on the port side are second and third class. So many thoughts swim through your head–finding Agatha, getting a lifeboat, helping passengers, it was all so much.

You’re aft now, and push your way through the crowd. “Officer Lowe!” you shout, trying to get his attention through the deafening sounds of metal-on-metal and rocket flairs exploding mid-air. “Officer Lowe!”

He looks up, calling after you, and you run over. “Is there anything I can help with?” you ask, and he reaches forward to help you in the boat.

You begin helping the second and third class women and children into the boat. They’re hesitant, but seeing you so level-headed placates a few of them. Children curl into their mothers’ sides, wrapped in blankets and some holding stuffed animals. It takes almost fifteen minutes to fill the lifeboat.

During the process, a man jumps into the lifeboat and immediately hides under the seats. Thinking he was about to get away with it just as the lifeboat was being lowered, Officer Lowe stops the crew and retrieves his revolver.

“Leave the boat!” he commands. “I’ll throw you overboard!” When his words don’t work, he directly targets the man’s ego, “For God’s sake, be a man! We have women and children to save!”

And those words work, as he seems to finally leave the boat and await his fate on the boat deck.

Officer Lowe stands tall as you hold a crying child. Below, on the A-Deck promenade, tensions rise and passengers start climbing through the windows in an attempt to get on the boat. Lowe takes his revolver and fires three shots into the sky.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Passengers in the boat scream and on the promenade people run in different directions. Looking to your left, the ship’s tilt is much more obvious–water is up to the forward deck and just shy of flooding the well deck–and upwards the boat deck was becoming further and further away.

As the boat is in its final five feet, you’re jolted forward. The aft end of the boat has stopped lowering and the bow doesn’t stop until it reaches the water. The passengers in the boat, all leaning to the side on one another, begin panicking and screaming out.

Officer Lowe and the other seamen on board take out pocket knives and saw away at the thick ropes holding up the lifeboat. When they snap, the boat drops down and water starts filling the bottom.

The hole in the hull isn’t too big, but water floods in quickly and passengers draw their knees up to their chests as the water rises. By the time you and another woman find a spare life vest, the water is ankle deep. Officer Lowe hands you a pocket knife and you slice it open, digging out the cork material and wrapping it back in the canvas fabric to force it in the small hole.

At around eight inches, the water stops rising and you can finally let yourself breathe. With nothing to scoop the water out, all that you can do is sit back down as the Able Seamen row away from the boat. And as you get further and further, the water is up to the A-Deck promenade. You grab an oar, not only wanting to be useful, but wanting to focus on getting away rather than the horrors on display in front of you.

When Lowe checks his pocket watch next it’s almost two-fifteen in the morning. The bow of the ship is completely underwater now and it’s only sinking faster. Screams are heard even at the boat’s distance of almost 200 yards, and as passengers swim over the sunken bow, metal groans and the forward funnel falls forward.

The screams get louder as the ship’s bow sticks further and further out of the water. In the boat, mothers shield their children’s faces, holding them close beneath blankets. You continue rowing even as your arms become sore and tired, but everyone–even you– in the boat stops everything.

The ship is at a 45 degree angle.

All lifeboats have been deployed.

The lights on the ship flicker.

They grow dimmer as the seconds go by.

And then the ship groans. The metal cries.

The middle section of the ship begins fracturing in multiple places, and as the lights finally flicker one last time, it caves in on itself.

The entire middle of the ship sinks below the surface, following the bow down to the ocean floor. As the stern separates from the rest of the ship, it falls back into the water, crushing the passengers beneath it. It’s pitch black, but you can make out the silhouette of the ship, now sticking out of the water at a 90 degree angle.

Lowe shouts more commands to continue rowing and you only make it about ten feet before the water floods the stern of the Titanic and the pressure pulls it down.

The rowing ceases.

The night is a pit of black tar, with the only light being the stars above you. The screaming feels endless. 1,500 people are just 150 yards away, fighting for their lives in the middle of the North Atlantic.

And there’s only one thought on your mind: Agatha.

All you can think about is her being in the midst of it: clinging to a floating chair, her lips turning blue–those soft, warm lips that are now trembling in the cold–and the worst thought of them all, suffocating and freezing from the inside out because of how cold the water is.

You huddle side-by-side with another woman, sharing a blanket with her. It’s only been an hour since the ship went down, and your teeth are chattering. With Agatha still on your mind, you lean over to Officer Lowe. “I think we should go back for the survivors.”

He mulls it over for a minute. “Let’s wait for it to quiet down.”

And the screams are slowly fading. Minute by minute the strangled cries of the stranded passengers quiet, and eventually, they stop all together.

It’s eerie and off putting. It’s the worst silence you’ve ever heard. It pulls at your gut and you lean over the edge of the boat and vomit. The older woman beside you rubs your back and takes the oar from your hand.

“Here, sweetheart,” she says softly. “Let me switch places with you”

Lifeboat 4, 10, 12, and collapsable D are the closest boats around. The woman who took the oar from you helps row the boat toward them and passengers are dispersed evenly. From 14, you help Lowe transfer the women into the other boats, and when you help a woman who turns out to be a man in disguise, you make no move to help him when Lowe pushes him into the lifeboat.

While the other boats begin rowing in the direction of the rescue ship, you remain in lifeboat 14 with Officer Lowe and the two Able Bodied Seamen. Despite Lowe telling you that you’ve done enough, you insist on coming. You genuinely want to help, but deep down, if Agatha is out there, you’d rather find her yourself than have someone find her for you.

Officer Lowe pans his flashlight across the field of bodies. “Oars!” he calls. “Be careful,” he says softly now. “Don’t hit any of them.”

You can hear the struggle in his voice as the boat continues forward. “We’re too late,” he sighs. “We waited too long.”

With your own flashlight, you peer across the expanse of floating bodies, looking at each one to see if it’s Agatha. And as you do, and you make eye contact with the lifeless, frozen bodies, you regret wanting to do this. You’re queasy again, looking at their faces frozen in time, hair solid with ice crystals. You swallow the bile that’s risen in your throat.

Four people are rescued from the water.

One of them doesn’t make it.

But you still tend to them. You wrap them in blankets. You make them as comfortable as possible.

With the mast of the boat now up, the boat sails through water easily. In the near distance, collapsible D is slowly bobbing through the water and when you reach it, Lowe and the man in charge of D tie them together.

The sun is just peaking above the horizon when collapsible A is spotted–on the verge of sinking with around a dozen people clinging to it. You help row 14 to collapsible A and when there, the men clinging to it are exhausted.

Your limbs ache with fatigue and cramp from the cold, but you don’t stop until you’re met with the Carpathia around seven o’clock. You never thought you’d be so happy to see the sun, even when it’s blinding you with its early morning rays. But seeing the Carpathia bathed in the golden light and reflecting off the water, you have a new sense of gratitude for life.

Inside the ship, it’s warm, and that cold ache in your bones begins to dissipate. The adrenaline is slowly leaving your body and you slowly eat a breakfast of hot broth and bread. It warms you, easing your upset stomach from the previous seven hours. But the only thing that will placate you is seeing her.

Knowing that Agatha is okay.

You accept a blanket from a stewardess in exchange for your life vest and wrap it around yourself. You walk around the ship, searching through both the first and second class groups before going back out to the boat deck with the third class passengers. By now, you’re in complete disarray. Your bonnet is missing, your hair is frizzy and sticking out of its pins, and there’s a tear in your skirt.

You wrap the blanket tighter around your shoulders as you lean against the railing, looking out at the ocean as the sun finishes rising. There’s passengers from the Titanic all over the deck. Many of them are crying and praying that their family is alive and that the officer is simply wrong.

But you, you stand by yourself. Four days. You had only known her four days, but you wouldn’t trade those days for all the money in the world. She wasn’t in the water, she wasn’t with first or second class, and somehow, you’re at peace with it. Even as you cry quietly, you’re at peace with it.

You’re okay.

You’ll be okay.

“Hi.”

You whirl around, eyes puffy and red with tears. A choked sob forces its way out of your throat and you run to her.

You run.

You throw your arms around her neck, blanket encasing you both in a cocoon of warmth and tears. Her hand cradles your head against her shoulder, arm wrapped tightly around your waist as you sob uncontrollably. “Oh my god–I–Oh, Agatha!”

She shushes you quietly, “It’s okay…”

“Where were you?” you sniffle, not looking up from her shoulder. “I–I couldn’t find you.”

“I know,” she whispers. “I know, I’m sorry. I’m here now.”

When the Carpathia arrives in New York City on April 18th at nine o’clock, it’s raining.

You stand on the forward deck, embracing the feeling of the cold rain on your skin when Agatha comes up beside you, shielding you with her umbrella. You lean your head on her shoulder and the both of you watch as the Statue of Liberty slowly comes into view.

“Do you want to come with me?”

The question is abrupt and you lift your head. “What?”

“When we get off,” she specifies. “Would you like to come with me?”

You smile softly, “I think after this week, I could use some time away from being a stewardess.”

#agatha all along #kathryn hahn #agatha harkness #agatha harkness x reader

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ssj2hindudude · 9 days ago

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Ok, so with Hades 2 getting an update and one step closer to finally coming out of early (hopefully), out of pure excitement, I decided to make this based on patterns I've seen in the past two games. Buckle up, because this is a long one! I bring you

Hades 3 Predictions

Protagonist

Hades 1: Zagreus (Zag)

Hades 2: Melinoe (Mel)

Hades 3: Macaria (Max) - Goddess of Blessed Death

I don't care what the Mythology Guy on YouTube says, multiple sources have accepted her as a daughter of Hades and not just a mix-up of Heracles' kid. Even if it was, Zagreus had a similar problem with Dionysus and the game was able to circumvent that so I don't see why that couldn't happen again here.

Also, I'll say this now, I'm not against woke stuff being in the game as long as it doesn't overstep any boundaries (gotta remember this is someone's religion after all). But even though it literally says she's Hades' daughter, I think it would be amazing to make her She/them (hence, the neutral name "Max") just for the sake of Persephone going around screaming "I collected the whole set!"

Class

Zagreus: Fighter

Melinoe: Mage

Macaria: Thief/Rogue

Using Pokemon's Gen 6 starters as a reference point (and then Google), I found out the basic RPG classes are Fighter, Mage, and Rogue and noticed a pattern in the games' fighting styles. Mel is obviously a Mage, Zagreus could go either way but with how much he just brute forces his way through his game, I opted more for Fighter.

So that leaves Rogue for Macaria which is actually pretty interesting that a child of Hades hasn't had a more stealthy role yet. Imagine your character having times where you don't have the option of forcing your way through like where you could instantly die or lose an important item or something. Instead, you work from the shadows and find yourself in situations where you have to sneak by, like a boss you're completely under-leveled for or a chamber that'll lock if you're caught and then you have to fight your way through.

It also fits because with how little sources there is on her, the only logical explanation besides it being fake is that she's so sneaky that no one can get any solid information on her!

Color scheme

Zagreus: Red/fire colors and Black

Melinoe: Green and Orange (plus Arachne's dresses)

Macaria: Yellow/White and Blue/Purple

This is more of an aesthetic thing that I noticed where Zag wore red and Mel wore orange and they had cooler colors as accents to their looks. I figured Macaria could continue the trend of warm colored clothing with a darker accent or as a change go dark with light accents instead. Maybe a cloak over her clothes like Raven from Teen Titans for extra mystery.

Eyes

Zagreus: Left Red Right Green

Melinoe: Left Green Right Red

Macaria: Switch on command?

Another aesthetic that a lot of people probably noticed was that the siblings had one of each of their parents' eyes and they were inverse to one another. I figured to be different, something could be done where Macaria can actively switch both of her eyes to change from Overworld green to Underworld red and that could have some impact on gameplay such as how she sees the world, switching between the dimensions to get to different areas.

That or she could just have an inverse where one eye is White with a Red iris and the other is Black with a Green iris because genetics are fun like that.

Parental Figure

Zagreus: Nyx

Melinoe: Hecate

Macaria: Helios

As much as I want Hadephone to give at least one of their kids a happy childhood, I think we all know where this is headed. Something will go wrong and Max will end up with a foster parent and according to the pattern, it's minor deities with some role in the story of how Hades "kidnapped" Persephone. Nyx is the river they crossed into when they entered the Underworld and Hecate is the goddess that helped Demeter figure out what was going on.

So, by that logic, I figured the next logical step would be the old retired sun titan that saw the whole thing go down. Of course, I'm not saying Apollo or anyone like him is fit to raise children, but I'd imagine this version of Helios would be more like an older version of him that's a lot more mellow and less likely to rant for two hours about his hit single after you asked him what time was on the sundial. Something more like a chill old man that also had a lot of energy (which is a HUGE help in raising a kid), kind of like Jiraiya from Naruto only he's not a total perv.

Hub/Safe Zone

Zagreus: House of Hades (Castle)

Melinoe: The Crossroads (Camp)

Macaria: The Chariot (Mobile home)

This one's a little tough but I figured if Zag was raised in a permanent structure while Meg was raised in a stationary campsite, maybe Max could grow up in a structure that moves, kinda like a mobile home. And no, Helios' Chariot would definitely not be the same as Chester's place from the Fairly odd Parents. But since he's retired, it would have little power and be more like a dimly lit abandoned mansion creeping slowly on the ground to the tune of the sun's position as if instinctually following an old routine.

Teacher

Zagreus: Achilles (Illiad)

Melinoe: Odysseus (Odyssey)

Macaria: Perseus

Ok, this one was also tough because the Iliad and the Odyssey were the two major Greek mythology works and the other two games already covered them. Meanwhile, Homer's other works cover literally everything else so it wasn't like I could just pick the protagonist from it for Max's teacher.

Why Perseus? Well, while he's not exactly the only Greek hero, he's one of the more iconic ones that strangely haven't been covered yet by the other games. Hercules was in 2, Jason's ship was there by reference, Theseus was a villain in 1 (and for good reason) even though his idiot brother who was into Persephone wasn't (but that could change here, who knows?) I mean, there's also Atalanta but at the same time her story basically goes raised by a bear (badass) kills a boar (also badass) and then gets "tricked" into marriage by a clever dude with Golden apples who stops her competition leaving a bunch of dead suitors in her wake (again, badass)

But I chose Perseus not only because he's iconic enough to stand out (not nearly as Jackson but I digress) but also because his main myth was focused on stealth. He didn't fight Medusa, he snuck her while she was asleep using a magic invisibility helmet (much like Hades' helm!) and chopped her head off. Perfect hero to train a rogue ninja like Max!

Goal

Zagreus: Escape the Underworld by going up

Melinoe: Save the Underworld by going down (and up as a side quest)

Macaria: Explore the Underworld? Spy/Reconnaissance? Go sideways?

So, one thing that Hadephone ficlets from Webtoon said that caught my attention was that Macaria was known to help souls escape the underworld without Hades' permission. Not sure if this is mythologically accurate but it does suit her rogue role really well so I'm using it here.

Her goal could be to travel around the Underworld looking for lost souls that want to go back for something in the Overworld (like finding out how they died, leaving a message for a loved one, etc.), taking pity on them, and sneaking them above and then sneaking them back down when the time comes. It shows her mother's compassion and even a little bit of a rebellious side like her brother!

Mini-Bosses

So, what I noticed is the three bosses you have to fight in each run fall under three categories:

Someone close that the MC regularly interacts with in the main hub: Meg and the Furies; Hecate

Rampaging beast that has to be put down: Lernie the Hydra; Cerberus

Annoying egotistical jerk that won't listen to reason: Theseus; Scylla and the Sirens (and Eris)

I won't count the Olympus route in Hades 2 though since that part doesn't seem to be finished yet and I haven't seen the update.

Since Zag did Friend-Beast-Jerk and Mel did Friend-Jerk-Beast, I think Max should do Beast-Jerk-Friend. It would be a nice twist to have her have to fight through a friend before reaching her goal. Also, she could start with Jerk, but it doesn't seem right to put them through a Jerk fight at the beginning of every run since the first boss is the one she has to fight the most and the Jerk has a tendency to be straight up obnoxious and annoying.

Also, since Zag fought a group of familiar friends (except Alecto) and Mel fought a group of jerks (mainly Scylla), I think it would be fitting to have Max fight a group of beasts at the start.

So, I probably would pick these three:

Beasts: Chimera

Ok, before you say it, yes, I know Chimera is one monster. However, both beast bosses were monsters with multiple heads so this one should follow the trend. Plus, it's practically three different monsters because when fighting it, Max would have to fight the Lion head, the Goat head, AND the Snake tail. I figure it's gonna be one of those monsters that just happened to settle near where Max has to lead the souls between the worlds.

Jerk: Cottus the Hecatoncheires

Ok, Zag's jerk was a Greek Hero while Mel's jerk was a Greek Monster, and I was thinking the next logical step would be a minor deity, but then I remembered Eris covered that. Then I thought we could do a Titan instead but Chronos is a titan who was the final boss in 2 so that wouldn't really work either.

However, I remembered that the three main groups tossed into Tartarus during Titanomachy were the furies, the cyclopes, and the Hecatoncheires who weren't even mentioned yet. So let's fix that!

Percy Jackson already used Briaries so even though he's the most famous and was said to be the only one left, I decided to keep the three of them this time and chose Cottus instead because his name either means the Striker or the Furious which definitely sounds like someone who won't listen to reason. Plus neither Theseus nor Scylla worked alone so this sorta follows the trend while also keeping it separate since, again, he has multiple heads, literally a hundred. In fact, he could even be made bipolar or have multiple personalities to reflect this, leaving him prone to extreme mood swings and be hard to reason with.

I imagine he'd be imprisoned around where Max is sneaking souls back in since she logically can't use the same entrance twice or she'd risk getting caught.

Friend: Tom

Yes, you read the name right. This one is interesting because while Zag's friend was a love interest, Mel's friend was her Foster Parent so to follow the trend, we have to pick someone close that they regularly interact with. I was thinking the usual child of Nyx but again, Eris already did that so that's out. (I know, she's even making my work difficult -_-)

Looking at friendly characters, there was usually two love interests (one a child of Nyx), the mentors, and the comic relief friend with a mysterious past (Skelly and Pandora)

So, what bigger twist than to have your comic relief friend be that final boss? The obligation to fight Max could be related to their past and they could still be on good terms with Max back at the hub.

Seeing that Skelly is a skeleton and Dora is a shade, they pretty much cover a dead body and spirit already, leaving just straight up living mortals left. UNLESS we went with something more mechanical.

I was thinking Max could find an abandoned Automaton in the Overworld (perhaps near Hephaestus' workshop), find a way to fix him, and when he activated he has no memory because his microchip or something is missing. For the time being, seeing that he's an auTOMaton, Max decides to call him Tom and he goes with it.

As for the boss fight, I was thinking Tom gets hacked somehow, which explains why he has no idea what Max is talking about when she brings it up. In the first half of the fight, Tom is normal sized and uses a barrage of mechanical weapons, but after getting him down to about half health, Max finds out he can actually change form to become colossal sized and she has to sneak her way into his head to temporarily shut him down. By the time Max gets back to the Chariot, Tom's miraculously back to normal, meaning the hacker can only trigger him at the entrance to the final level. As the game progresses, Tom keeps going back there to find out what's going on, only to get hacked every time and end up in a Re-Zero situation.

Main Villain

Zagreus: Hades

Melinoe: Kronos

Macaria: At first Ouranos, then Gaea

Ok, hear me out: the pattern here is generational. First it was Hades, then it was his dad, so logically, what would come next is his parent's PARENTS.

More importantly, both games have a twist-but-not-such-a-twist in the boss reveals. "OMG, you mean the guy running the underworld DOESN'T just sit at his desk all day?!?" "WHOA, the guy showing himself as a silhouette was the guy in the phrase 'Death to Chronos'?!?" So, I figured I'd complete the chain of iconic Greek myth villains by having Ouranos appear as a puppet for Gaea. "Wait, I thought I was listening to Ouranos hatch a plan to get revenge on the gods, you're telling me it was his ex-wife?!?"

Yup, you read right. The plot would follow that Max would keep sneaking shades to and from the Underworld and whenever you complete a run, Max first overhears someone talking about manipulating the Gods to have them overthrown, talks to Helios who says it sounds like Ouranos trying to get his body back and take back control, only for the later twist to be it's actually Gaea. I know, big surprise, Mother Earth hates the gods. Go figure.

Love Interests

Zag: Meg and Than

Mel: Moros and Nemesis (and Eris, I think?)

Max: Oizys/Miseria and Hermes?!?

Ok, just gonna get the token child of Nyx love interest out of the way and I thought it would be interesting to make it the girl this time. Oizys is a daughter of Nyx who is the goddess of misery (hence Miseria. I imagine she tells Max to call her Miseria because it's easier to pronounce). I figure she'd be introverted and quiet much like Thanatos but in a more awkward and shy way, kind of like Dusa in 1 and Echo in 2. She would be timid especially because some interpretations have her also be the goddess of Anxiety.

The other love interest is usually someone else related to Hades' realm. So, for the guy, my thought is this time it could be Charon...just kidding! No, as tempting as that is because this one was REALLY hard (seriously, I couldn't find any non-Nyx male characters related to Hades' realm and there's nothing online about Max having a canon husband or anything!), Charon is too weird an option as he serves more as an uncle figure for the three of them (ugh, there's a Hadephone joke in there that I don't wanna touch)

I was also considering one of the three kings picked to judge the shades, but they're just dead mortals. The others were deities with Meg as the exception but the furies are still a huge part of Hades' gimmick.

Then, I thought of something insane. There is one god that's related to Hades' realm, extroverted (since Miseria's already an introvert), and they even have something in common because he's also the god of stealth.

...ok, before you call HR, hear me out: Hermes. The man's known as a psychopomp which is very similar to what Max does, he's one of the younger deities and doesn't even have a wife, and he's basically the ninja of greek mythos. Ok, maybe he does have his dad's promiscuous nature that makes him unlikely to settle down with anyone, but we're talking dating here, not necessarily marriage.

Look, I couldn't find anyone else to fill the role besides mortals and the man's already got the favor of Max's siblings. I can at least see it working, but I am open to better ideas for guy deities related to Hades' realm.

Boons

Zag: Aphrodite; Ares; Artemis; Athena; Chaos; Demeter; Dionysus; Hermes; Poseidon; Zeus

Mel: OLD - Aphrodite; Ares; Chaos; Demeter; Poseidon; Zeus; NEW - Apollo; Hephaestus; Hera; Hestia;

Max: Chaos; OLD - Artemis; Athena; Demeter; Dionysus; Hermes; NEW - Apollo; Hephaestus; Hera; Hestia; Rhea; BONUS: PERSEPHONE

Lastly, we've gotta have a list of 10 main Gods that they can get boons from. (It's dangerous to go alone, take this!)

First, Chaos is pretty much indispensable. Their boons are the most interesting of all of them because they all have a big help coupled with a big detriment.

Next, we can pretty much cut out all of the old gods used again in 2 because we gotta keep this interesting! Except for Demeter tho, because Grandma. Or, we could also throw in Rhea because she hasn't been mentioned yet either and actually likes her kids so DOUBLE GRANDMA

But, that just means bringing back the rest of the old ones from 1 that got either cut out or side-tracked. And yes, I also suggested Hermes as the love-interest AND am bringing him back as a boon.

Finally, that leaves the four newer gods from 2 to make things fair. But I'm not keeping it all old though, because as an added bonus, I think Persephone should finally be around to give one of her kids a boon. After all, she's more likely than Hades to condone what Max is doing, so of course she's gonna lend her support. I imagine it'll be kind of a cross between the boon Hades gave in 2 and what Demeter has been giving only for grassy spring magic instead of icy winter magic. Something to show her duality as the Goddess of Spring and the Queen of the Underworld.

On that lovely note, that's all I could come up with for now, so reblog with what YOU think should be in Hades 3 if Supergiant decides to make it a trilogy.

#supergiant games #hades supergiant #hades #hades 2 #hades 3 #persephone x hades #hades game #zagreus #melinoe #macaria #greek gods #greek mythology #greek tumblr #percy jackson #greek myth retellings

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mythalism · 5 months ago

Note

there is a bit of a discourse on twitter about whether Mythal was a slave owner. What is your take on this? I’ve seen arguments that her vallaslin was a mark of honour and she “protected her people”. But also if that was the case, why would Solas remove his marks and propose to do the same to Lavellan?

I wonder if that’s another evidence of her character being sanitised in DAV compared to lore, revealed in DAI

it has genuinely never occurred to me that mythal would not be a slave owner. we know the evanuris practiced slavery. we know the only one who did not was fen'harel, as a result there is no fen'harel vallaslin. there is however a mythal vallaslin both presently and anciently, worn by felassan, abelas, and all of the temple sentinels at the least, and by solas himself once if you assume that is the meaning of cole's comment about him burning her off his face, which i do make that assumption. solas says mythal "was the best" of the evanuris, but that is an extremely low bar. we also now know that she was a driving force behind the war with the titans and their tranquilization and the destruction of the dwarven empire, and she admits to using solas as a weapon of war. i am not sure why any of these things would lead anyone to believe that she is morally above enslaving people. we have literally met the people she enslaved. whether or not they were "devoted" or "willing" (ew) is irrelevant in the context of her power as an evanuris.

i think perhaps dragon age was gearing up pre-veilguard to explore the vallaslin much more in depth however it ended up erasing it completely so we will never know. its possible that vallaslin had multiple meanings, and did not always denote enslavement but could denote enslavement depending on the circumstances. my own understanding pre-vg was that the vallaslin probably interacted with other factors, such as class/wealth, power, and personal favoritism, to varying degrees of personal and political agency so that not every person with mythal's vallaslin would have the same exact experience. solas's experience clearly was unique and we see that in the way that their relationship is presented in his murals, and how they continue to have a relationship even after he has removed his own (assuming thats the timeline and not that they just completely retconned him having vallaslin in the first place lol). but just because solas sees mythal in a forgiving light (sometimes, he goes back and forth, which does make sense considering his complex feelings about her) does not mean mythal was, objectively, that way. its pretty heavily implied that he had major rose colored glasses on for her, and its likely he only saw a certain side of her. we can probably assume that elgar'nan saw a very different one. we have a lot of different perceptions of her from different sources, and different literal fragments of her personality. we also know she changed quite drastically overtime and was corrupted from benevolence into retribution. it is difficult to say with certainty what she was like because the game does not tell us.

however enslavement is enslavement and i think we should be frank about it even if veilguard isnt interested in touching on it. "but she was a good slave-owner!" is a dangerous sentiment reflective of real life, anti-abolition arguments during the american civil war that revisionist racists and white supremacists still use today and i think people should take great care not to espouse the same, even in the context of a fantasy world.

#veilguard critical

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eugenedebs1920 · 14 days ago

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youtube

Before fascist burned down the Reichstag building in 1933 a ember of hatred had been smoldering in plain sight. Disillusioned by the consequences of their actions in WWI economic turmoil had plagued the German people, leaving them searching for the culprit to their hardship.

The most effective avenue to quell the angst of an unsatisfied population is to identify the root cause of the suffering being experienced by the masses.

The mature and professional approach would be to explain to the people that the sanctions and reparations brought on after the poor decisions of governments past was the root cause, and that generations prior had put the burden of their financial woes upon the shoulders of the current working class.

Alas that would take accepting accountability by those on high. Rather than admitting fault the solution would be, as it has throughout history, to blame an outside entity. As has been the case many times before, that outside force would be immigrants. In this case the Jewish sect of society.

With emergency powers the fascist had installed loyalist in all corners of government, a campaign of propaganda was waged on the populace, claiming these immigrants had, “poisoned the blood of the German people”, that without drastic actions they, “wouldn’t have a country anymore”, without their removal.

It started with detentions, taking the Jewish immigrants (although many were German born peoples) and placing them in “ghettos”. Soon the ghettos would become overpopulated with “immigrants” who were businesses owners, intellectuals, teachers and entrepreneurs, hard working people whose only crime was their ethnicity. They were deported to prisons and camps.

Lest we forget the majority of these prisons were not located in Germany, Auschwitz’s, Krakow and Vaivara were in Poland, Riga was in Latvia, Kavno was in Lithuania. These innocent people were sent from their homes, separated from their families, removed from their possessions, and extradited to torture prisons in countries that were not native to these scapegoated immigrant people.

If any of this sounds familiar it’s because it is. It’s happened in Sudan, South Africa, Argentina, China, Russia, to name a few, and now we can add the United States of America to that list.

It is not immigrants who are to blame for the stagnation, exploitation and struggles endured by the American working class. It is the masters of men and the overtly insulting policy of trickle down economics.

Just as it was in the late 1800’s into the early twentieth century, the titans of capital, consumed by greed, have suppressed the workers of this nation. The greater good is outweighed by their insatiable need for monumental wealth, leaving the middle class to scrounge for the scraps of a capitalistic system that has been designed to uplift the rich, and abandon the rest.

It is not immigrants which are the cause of the decline of the American society. It is a handful of billionaires, striving as best they can to create a new word and be the world’s first trillionaires.

We must look at ourselves and make the decision. Do we want to follow the path of Germany and so many others, place the blame of our woes on marginalized groups? Or will we open our eyes and see that the true source of our suffering comes from the top, comes from policy meant to benefit the few, and forego the many.

The choice is ours.

I stand with Las Angeles and their resistance to tyranny and oppression. I stand with the true patriots of this nation who believe and follow our Constitution. I stand for America.

🇺🇸

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the-independent-archive · 2 months ago

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Fear Classes: UPDATE, and Epithets

Hey all, we have progress!

I've spent some time fiddling about and fine-tuning the diagram, and after some thought (and some help from @strawberoniii with Buried in particular), I have reached a stage where I am happy to move forwards.

First of all, lets get the new diagram out of the way:

(ITS ALL INTERLINKED AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH)

Patch notes:

The Colossi and Object/Landscape epithets of the Vast have been fused into a Colossi/Spaces epithet

The Buried was split into a Physical and Intangible epithet, and connected into the broader chart.

The Corruption & The Web (Spiders) were connected to the broader chart

The Vast (Insignificance) and the Desolation (Emotional Loss) have lost their connection

The Lonely moved from Human to Developed.

Formating

Now then, epithets.

As these are more specific than their general categories, I will be using these in my cataloging system going forward. However, the names in their current form are a bit, well, long. Below are my in-progress replacements:

Slaughter/Desolation amalgam -> The Razing (RAZ)

The Slaughter (Distinct) -> The Slaughter (SLA)

The End -> Terminus (TRM) (The software im using doesn't like having END in its entries :/)

The Extinction -> The Extinction (EXT)

The Desolation (Distinct) -> The Devestation (DVS)

The Desolation (Emotional) -> The Desolation (DES)

The Dark -> The Dark (DRK)

The Lonely -> The Lonely (LNY)

The Vast (Colossi/Spaces) -> The Falling Titan (TTN)

The Vast (Insignificance) -> ??? (Realy don't have a clue here, sry)

The Buried (Physical) -> Choke (CHK)

The Buried (Intangible) -> ??? (Again, sry)

The Corruption (Rot) -> The Crawling Rot (ROT)

The Corruption (Insects) -> The Hive (HVE)

The Web (Spiders) -> The Great Spider (SPI)

The Web (Powerlessness) -> The Mother of Puppets (MPT) (I know its long but its good)

The Hunt -> The Hunt (HNT)

The Eye (Watching) -> The Watcher (WCR)

The Eye (Being Known) -> Beholding (BHL)

The Spiral -> The Spiral (SPR)

The Stranger (Uncanny) -> The Stranger (STR)

The Stranger (Not Knowing) -> I Cannot Know (ICK)

The Flesh ('Just Flesh') -> Viscera (VSR)

The Flesh (Dysphoria/Dysmorphia) -> I Am Not My Flesh (NMF)

Ok, phew. Sorry for the long list, theres a lot of them. Crikey.

Almost all of these names were taken from, or sourced in, records we have in the Archive's, or broader ICASO's possession. Once again, I invite you to pipe in for ideas if you have any you're particularly passionate about.

Well.

Now, Biscuits, then, the catalogue, after that the world! Or, greater Oxfordshire. Idk.

Bye!

-Cass

#the magnus protocol #tmagp #the magnus archives #tma #magpod #ICASO

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verycorrectslugterraquotes · 1 month ago

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In “Lightwell”:

Eli: So C.C., what's it like to be perfect?

C.C.: Well it has it's-

Eli: I was being sarcastic.

#source: class of the titans #slugterra #incorrect slugterra quotes #incorrect quotes #eli #eli shane #c.c.#mine

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communistkenobi · 8 months ago

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I love finding new communists blogs because you immediately have to scroll through all the posts to see if you wanna follow them or block them lmao. Anyway from what I understand you work in western academia to some degree and as a student taking some classes in the social sciences it’s such a pain in the ass trying to even bring up a Marxist perspective. How do you deal with how much pushback socialism has in academia?

I’m doing a PhD in sociology ! And please feel free to block me, we are all annoying etc

I would say that resistance to socialist ideas is a major source of frustration for me in academia - a learning curve for me has been gearing my writing & research to work around that type of institutional hostility. It depends on the discipline as well. Given that Marx is such a titanic figure in sociology I find it easier to engage with his work openly (although you will be mocked for it lol - it’s viewed as a dead-end project in the West since the USSR collapsed), whereas more history- or politics-based courses I’ve taken have been extremely hostile to even tepid Marxist analysis. I have friends to vent to and have found other people in my discipline who are like-minded, which has helped. You will need to do a lot of tactical retreats - I’ve found that tying your analysis to state policy helps a lot, it helps you get grants, and academics trade in policy-talk across disciplines so it will prepare you for that if you want to stay in academia.

I have also been making peace with the fact that academia is not really the place to “do” socialism - it is a deeply political job, and my ideological commitments motivate me to do work and research that I hope are beneficial to the world, but I think the authority and privileges afforded to academics, not academia itself, is the better avenue to conduct political activity - participating in student & left-wing actions, giving money and resources to activist groups, using your prestigious position to publicly speak on issues, sign important documents for vulnerable people (profs are counted as authorities to sign off on name change documents for trans people in Canada for example, as well as visa and citizenship proof I believe?), things like that. There was that Canadian doctor, Dr. Yipeng Ge, who was suspended from his university position for speaking out against Israel and went to Palestine on a medical mission, Engels used his family’s money to fund Marx & socialist actions, Lenin went to law school, etc (i am NOT remotely comparing myself to any of them to be clear lol, just demonstrating that there is historical precedent for this way of thinking). I’ve done a decent amount of union + community work and the reoccurring lesson I keep learning is that there are many little, vacant positions of power sprinkled throughout the world that will help you organize and agitate above and beyond your individual capabilities. And the right wing knows this! They take over local school board committees and town halls and run for office in their local neighbourhoods all the time, often unopposed, and use that to exert terrible political influence.

I try very much to resist the “one of the good ones” mindset re: my own career in academia and is one I struggle with pretty often. being pragmatic about what academic research actually does in the world is still something I’m grappling with. Academia has provided me with an incredibly prestigious education and a lot of social capital that I hope to use for some amount of good. I’m also betting on what is essentially a lottery ticket, given how rare tenure-track university positions are, so maybe all of this will be irrelevant anyway lol. I’m not sure if that’s helpful but it’s not a settled issue for me either, so if this reads as vague or wishy-washy that’s why!

#asks

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classofthetitansincorrectquotes · 2 years ago

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“If I keep my body moving, and my mind occupied at all times, I will avoid falling into a bottomless pit of despair.”- Archie

#class of the titans #cott #archie #incorrect quotes #source: parks and rec

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multi-stuff · 3 months ago

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Multicore series 20 - Titanfall 2

the absolute best deathmatch shooter, and it doesnt even come close. having to master both titan and pilot movement and routing, matchups and so on is just amazing. everything feels nice to control when youre just starting out, but it only gets better and more fluid as time goes on. ronin might be my favourite execution of fps melee combat, where youre a pick class that focuses on pilots to build ult while also working well as a 1v1 powerhouse or general support class. fighting every titan differs dramatically, and i love it for that. as for pilot, cloak with low profile + kraber/epg/wingman feels soo satisfying to play its unreal. and thats not even talking about the movement! being developed on the source engine gives it so much depth the devs might not have anticipated that allows you reach lightning fast speeds alongside having some weight behind your character feels just right. my aim also used to be garbo but thanks to titanfall being so relentless in its time to kill helped me a ton with that

#multicore #mub art #titanfall 2

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oh-meretseger · 1 year ago

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part 1 - Jean’s Favorite Color

attack on titan modern college au // Jean Kirstein x fem!reader, not a smut (yet), but a tiny bit suggestive, some hateful tension, slight insults

summary: you hate this guy with all your heart (😏) and he seems to be enjoying that. we’ll see how that goes for you, when you two have to work together xoxo

word count: 2,8k

Jean has always been amused by your desperate act that you tried keeping up about absolutely hating him. You seemed no more than a rigid and mousy little nerd, when Sasha introduced you to him and Connie as her "new best friend", about six minutes after first meeting you.

"She seems cool" Connie seemed to like you, shrugging his shoulders when Jean asked him if he found you stuck up. "Man, not everyone's stuck up who's not laughing at your sarcastic ass jokes"

Even though you two were polar opposites, you seemed to look at Sasha with the widest smile, eyes glistening with love when she was loudly blabbering about, while you were quietly listening and chuckling to yourself - about stuff that Sasha called you two's "inside jokes", although to Jean, it seemed like she was the only one doing the talking, at all times.

He didn't mind you spending time with their trio at first. As a quiet girl hiding under your glasses, baggy jeans and big hoodies, you weren't exactly the type to catch his eye. The thought of you being a stuck up little nerd first occured to him when you all were sitting in an evening class and the professor, looking through the presentation, dared to ask if anyone knew where the substitute left off the previous night.

"Your mom should be the one knowing that" Jean mumbled, and raised his eyes as Connie spat a good amount of his energy drink on the desk in front of him, laughter exploding right out of his mouth. A light smile quickly vanished from Jean's face as your expression caught his eye, sitting on the other side of Connie. You frowned at your notes, rolling your eyes. "What an idiot" you thought to yourself, not even acknowledging the fact that you would absolutely be the one making "your mom" jokes in any other setting. Any other setting where The Playboy himself wasn't present... With that damn smug look on his face.

Something just irked you about Jean, although you couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. It was a feeling that you haven’t tried to learn the source of so far. It just appeared on its own, as soon as you looked up at him for the first time, and laid eyes on his face under a few light brown strands of hair softly falling from the perfectly combed back style. The stubble on that sharp jawline, those soft looking lips curling up in a half-smile, the perfectly straight line of that nose, those warm, brown eyes with a golden light in them that made you-

"What are you even taking notes of, smartass? The dude hasn't even started talking yet"

You glanced at Jean with an almost surprised look on your face. He never really talked to you in the few weeks you've known each other - let alone call you names, with such a smug smile plastered across his face. Hot, hot anger filled your chest looking at the curve of his lips. But the intense feeling made you, if anything, more confused, and you turned your head back to your notes without a reaction.

That's when Jean's dear habit of annoying you on purpose started.

He couldn't stand how rigid you seemed when it came to him, anything he said, did or joked about. He couldn't stand how cold and quiet you became whenever he appeared, even if he just saw you having the time of your life with Sasha moments before. He couldn't stand how you rolled your big bambi eyes under those glasses, or how your nose wrinkled in distaste whenever he would banter with Connie, as if his humor were too immature for your liking. He couldn't stand how you stiffened up around him, thinking that he couldn't see through that thick and hard layer of ice you built for yourself to hide from him. At least he told himself that he couldn't stand it.

He secretly loved it, every single moment of it.

It became an addiction. He started looking for every bit of reaction, every tiny motion of the muscles of your face and your body, getting irritated merely by the sight of him. The pure excitement he felt from taking every single chance to deepen the visible tension and irritation you felt... Was indescribable.

Sasha and Connie were always entertained by the intensifying back-and-forth between you two, but Jean was downright amused. Exhilarated. He enjoyed himself a little bit too much listening to you snapping back at every snarky remark he made towards you, your insults getting sharper and meaner every time you two would bicker.

Maybe you weren't so rigid and mousy after all..?

"That's common law, smarty pants" Jean's unmistakable, cynical voice scared the living shit out of you as it appeared right by your face out of nowhere. He laughed loudly as you jumped from your seat in shock. An infuriating heat filled your chest as you realized how you didn't even notice him bending down behind you so closely, watching you writing your notes.

But an even more irritating heat was the one flooding your face from feeling the hot breath of Jean on your ear, as he spoke so close to you...

You felt the warmth making your face go red, then flowing right through your body. What the hell is happening?

"Common law will be my shoe's rightful place up your ass" you replied harshly to his snarky comment, turning your face back down towards the notes, trying to hide the fact that you were blushing. All hell would break loose if he noticed you displaying any sign of embarassment at his actions. Jean threw himself in the chair right across from you, Sasha and Connie taking the ones on each of your sides.

Oh, he noticed, he very much did.

"Alright, grandpa. You'll have to be a little less stiff if you want any part of your body to be inside of me" he said, eyes piercing right through your hands that tried to hide the rosy tint of your cheeks. Jean couldn't help the satisfied smile growing wider on his face, as he watched you scrabble some nervous nonsense on the paper in front of you. He barely saw you being flustered, especially blushing.

He almost found it kind of cute.

"In your dreams, dumbass" you muttered, trying to disappear under the hood of your sweatshirt. The feeling that Jean left behind on your ear still tingled the same, and you couldn't even comprehend the words you were currently jotting down.

Jean shifted in his chair, spreading his legs a little more as a heat of your insults ran through him as well. He had no idea what made it so addicting to draw such nasty remarks out of those innocent-looking lips of yours, but he liked it.

"I don't think the library is the best place for you to start being inside of each other" Sasha stated her honest opinion, unwrapping the third sandwich of this eventful morning. Jean blankly stared at her.

"Where are these even coming from? You don't even have a backpack with you"

"A better question would be where these are even going" Connie watched the sandwich longingly, as it rapidly kept disappearing in the black hole that seemed to be Sasha's mouth. "Can I get a bite though?"

"No!"

"Sasha!" you bursted out laughing as a whole slice of tomato flew from Sasha's swift and jealous hand movement, plopping right on top of your notes. It barely even touched the paper though, Connie's quick fingers already grabbed it, hunting it down like he was dying from hunger. "Thanks"

"No problem, bro" Connie shrugged, as the slice of tomato was already on its way down to his stomach.

"Bro-zoned" Jean pouted in your direction, and you quickly grew annoyed again, looking at his cynically sad expression. How nonchalantly he was leaning back in the library chair, just casually manspreading, made the heat of the anger almost unbearable in your chest.

"You must've been thinking really hard about that, I smell smoke"

"Bruh" Sasha reacted with a mouth full of food, and Jean hissed in pain.

"That was the lamest shit I've heard today, and Connie's been talking since 5 am, non-stop" he shook his head. You started grinding your teeth together as you heard Sasha let out a chuckle.

"Hey!" Connie frowned, utterly offended. "I already told you I'm done talking for today, get off my ass"

"I would think of better comebacks, but my neurons have literally no time regenerating, you're always here" you grimaced at Jean.

"You were the one who desperately wanted a study date with me last night, wiseass" Jean smiled, eyes looking right into yours, with that smug look on his face again. He crossed his arms together, and you felt yourself exploding with anger. The black t-shirt he wore that morning hugged his biceps tightly, his forearms looking annoyingly big and bulky in this position.

You swore you wanted to bite the flesh off of those arms.

"I did NOT want to study in your presence, I can guarantee your dumb ass that, bu-"

"Agh, get over yourself, you fucking nerd, you know you'd miss me" Jean cut you off with a smirk so nasty, that you could feel the familiar heat spread across your cheeks again.

The sudden tension you felt from his low-lidded eyes piercing into yours made you freeze for a second.

"I'm so done with you guys, we're not getting any work done because of your squabbling" Sasha threw the ball of plastic wrap she just made right at Jean's temple, and you let out a quiet chuckle at the sight. Still looking into each other's eyes, for a moment, it felt like Jean and you were smiling together, for once in this lifetime - but it ended before you could even think of that.

"Their what?" Connie laughed.

"What are you talking about? You're literally having a royal breakfast right now" Jean scoffed at Sasha, who looked back at him with big, hungry eyes.

"And I'm going to finish it, Jean. Don't press me" she stared right into his eyes as she pulled out a chocolate bar from the inside pocket of her denim jacket. Your anger was nowhere in sight - you and Connie were having the time of your life giggling at her like a bunch of middle schoolers. Jean was a bit more tense, staring back at her with a motionless, blank expression.

"I'm going to flip my shit"

"Bro, chill" Sasha chuckled and you slapped your palm onto the surface of the table with a loud thud.

"BRO-ZONED"

"You're such an original piece of work" Jean's look slowly panned to you like you were the most pathetic nerd he ever laid eyes on. That's exactly what he thought to himself.

"Someone has to be, you bastard"

"Dipshit"

That growing confidence in you lasted exactly until the moment you were paired with Jean Kirstein for the project that would largely determine your grade for the semester in this one particular class.

You were devastated. Frozen by the shock of hearing your names together, while you felt Jean's eyes burning a hole on the side of your face. You just knew he had a huge grin on his face. And you were right.

He was almost ashamed of how amused he found himself seeing you absolutely shattered. His teeth bit down on his lower lip as he tried to make the smile on his face stop growing.

This couldn't even get any better.

"Jean, I'm going to slit my throat with this piece of paper" you stated with a lifeless voice while Jean smirked, between his teeth was the end of the pen that he snitched right out of your hand for the fourth time this afternoon. You tried to get this stupid project over with and work with him in the library, but that was obviously a dumb idea.

"Go ahead" Jean replied calmly, slowly turning the pen between his teeth as he locked his eyes on your face. He loved the sight of it getting more and more expressive as your frustration intensified. You pursed your soft lips together in anger, and took off your glasses to rub the bridge of your nose.

Jean was waiting for the insults to come, though. You thought so highly of yourself and clearly found him so immature - so he would give you exactly that. You want him being childish, you'll get it.

He was bored and would do anything just to get a reaction out of you.

"Hey!" you yelled as he suddenly took the glasses you held between your fingers and leaned back to dodge your immediate attack, trying to get it back. He put it on his head and pushed it back on his soft brown strands of hair, using it as a headband. "You're gonna break it with your big ass head!"

"If it doesn't break on that huge wise balloon of yours, mine won't damage it any further for sure" he grinned in your face and you swore you could break that shiny white set of teeth out of his mouth, at that very moment. Jean found it rather amusing how you tried reaching him from the other side of the table, but failed miserably. So you changed tactics. "Hey, take me out to dinner first, you pervert!"

You gave up trying to solve the problem gently and quietly, just for the sake of the library's peaceful atmosphere, and jumped on Jean with a blurry vision to retrieve your eyesight. He quickly grabbed your glasses from his head and extended his arm as far back as he could sitting in that chair.

But you absolutely did not care anymore and slammed your knee right into his inner thigh to reach your goal.

Jean let out a painful yell.

"You fucking rat, you almost smashed my precious parts" he laughed as you struggled with an unwavering force. Anger blurred your vision even more, not even thinking about how your t-shirt and the soft plush of your breasts underneath pressed right into Jean's face as you leaned on him, reaching for his arm.

You grabbed a hold of his forearm, digging your nails into his skin with no hesitation, and the tension in that evil arm vanished right away, with another painful cry from Jean. But this time, you felt his voice resonating on your chest.

Heat started spreading on your face immediately. You put the retrieved glasses back on their place, and quickly got off of him to sit back in your chair… And try to disappear in it.

Jean was not laughing anymore. You didn't look at him, but you could feel the heat of his smirk burning your face even more.

He's never noticed you had breasts before.

That was clearly a dumb conclusion, but it was true. Obviously, he knew you had to be some kind of woman, at least by the looks of it, some weird specimen that he had no intentions of looking at like he looked at other girls. He never really thought of you having an actual body of a woman under those baggy jeans and cargos, and big ass hoodies you always wore to class.

Until now.

He unintentionally started to wonder - what else could you be hiding under those baggy t-shirts?

He shifted in his seat, ever so slightly fixing his jeans where it started to become a little tight around his inner thigh. You were yet to speak a word, frantically turning the pages of your book, pretending you were looking for something very important. Jean's eyes fixated on your face, your long eyelashes batting downwards under your glasses, your cheeks and nose dusted with a pink tint under the small freckles.

You were clearly extremely flustered.

A smile started to form on his face as his look swiftly shifted to your plump lips, nervously bit down on by your teeth. His eyes slipped down onto your thin silver necklace hugging the smooth skin of your neck. Your neck looked so delicate, so soft and innocent to him at that moment.

His attention wandered down to the baggy white band shirt covering the skin on your chest - that was pressed right into his face just a few seconds before.

"Are you going to finally contribute something to this damn thing, or are you planning on sitting there like a retarded fish for the rest of the day?" you muttered without ever looking up at him, and he smiled at your remark.

The color of your flustered cheeks suddenly became his new favorite color.

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sepublic · 1 year ago

Text

Christianity for Dana Terrace and TOH

I have to wonder about and consider The Owl House as an expression of Dana Terrace's own nuanced relationship with Christianity. We know she was raised in a Catholic school, and we've heard of the out-of-context incident where she got put into a headlock by a nun as a child (idk if context even matters in this scenario);

Plus, there's the show's obvious critiques of Christianity, via Belos' fanaticism and demonization of witches, plus his superiority complex and belief in predestination. And then we have Tarak bonding with King as a potential father figure, even being mistaken for his dad, only to sacrifice him anyway for the Grand Huntsman despite whatever hesitations he has; This story beat echoes the tale of Abraham and Isaac. The Emperor’s Coven/Cult is clearly Catholic.

But at the same time, we have Steve's reminiscing over the Titan as perhaps just some dude who doesn't know what he wants, either; And he's saying this as a former member of the Emperor's Coven, which itself applied a very Christian understanding of the Titan via Belos. We have Luz meeting the Titan in-person, and seeing that he's not some deity but just a person who meant well and tried his best.

The show emphasizes people being able to improve and get better and needing that chance, plus what I've said about Luz possibly being meant to represent a more positive, accurate portrayal of Jesus Christ; She dies and is resurrected with the power of the Titan, who isn't quite God but maybe she is in a meta sense? It's complicated.

So to psychoanalyze a real life person through their art (which I guess is what single author classes does to a mf), I have to consider that it's not as simple as Dana condemning Christianity as a whole; More than likely, a specific brand of Christianity, namely Evangelicalism, Catholicism, etc. We have to remember that what we often criticize as Christianity is more so a specific denomination, or group of; Christianity is a widespread religion comprised of countless different takes and interpretations of the Bible.

And IIRC (a source would be helpful), I think Dana even clarified that her experience with Catholic school wasn't wholly negative either? She did not consider herself abused, or at least abused abused. Her feelings might be mixed, especially because one doesn’t need to personally experience the worst to know about it; That is another way in which one might become critical.

I don't think Dana is outright resentful of Christianity as a whole, she might just have complicated feelings, criticisms, and thoughts; Tbf, this is how many denominations came to being. So when I see Steve reflecting on the Titan, and Luz getting to meet him... I think these scenes are, in a way, Dana making peace with the idea of God in her life; Getting to consider her relationship with and belief (or lack thereof) in him, and his paternal status to the world as a whole.

She's also recognizing his fallibility, God is a person and like any person his insight and support is illuminating, but not all-encompassing; It's not doctrine, it's just advice, from one person to another. So when the Titan reassures Luz, or Dana, he's not saying she's the specialest chosen one in the world; He's just someone with a lot of experience who can provide some guidance and clarification on life, not unlike Eda.

The Titan saying goodbye to Luz feels like Dana being able to part on -ultimately- good terms after resolving that major anxiety in her life, on a final note that is no longer resentful and more a fond memory overall. It’s her moving to the next stage of her life, as Luz herself does, now able to carry and believe in herself, and not need that same guidance to figure out what to do.

It’s a coming of age moment appreciating what was given by a paternal figure, with Dana now comfortable exploring other beliefs and practices after making her farewell with Christianity by realizing it isn’t absolute, yet still treasuring what it was able to give her. So she carries on what she can, at least in spirit, like… Luz and the glyphs, remembering them, and now having her own palisman to continue her love of magic that the Titan helped support. So we have both the narrative meaning to Luz behind all of this, and the real-life significance for Dana herself, which aren’t quite the same but there is overlap. And there’s also the other meaning for Dana in how the Titan represents her father, which we’ve already discussed.

So The Owl House and the storyline of the Titan could be Dana's own nuanced takeaway from Christianity; Her exploring how she feels about it, what she appreciates, what she doesn't, how it fits into the rest of her worldview. And I don’t think Dana is trying to convert anyone, nor condemn those who feel irreverent. I think she’s more about deconstructing Christianity to reconstruct it.

Be Gay, Do Witchcraft of course, I think there is a catharsis in exploring that. And also, because the sentiment behind that phrase might be less about Christianity being inherently evil, and more so that many queers don’t care what evangelicals think of them anymore; So sure, we’ll humor your fears for fun, we ARE the demons we’re accused of being. It’s like Eda saying “Well we ain’t!” in response to Belos’ claim that humans are inherently better. Plus demonized belief systems that aren’t Christianity deserve validity as well, hence the pagan influences being portrayed positively, with the narrative questioning the dismissal of certain ideas being ‘demonic’ or ‘savage’.

And of course, co-existence IS possible. And I find this important because it can be easy to just dismiss religion entirely in an edgy internet atheist type of way, but in the end one must reconcile that religion means a lot for a lot of people, many whom ARE chill and willing to co-exist; The narrative presents the spirituality of the Boiling Isles as something precious, for example. All belief systems are valid, not just these select few.

And maybe they don’t have to be mutually exclusive with queerness or “alternative” lifestyles, because a lot of people from these demographics aren’t quite comfortable with just getting rid of religion entirely, and they’re entitled to still maintaining that connection. If feminists can still have a nuanced relationship with femininity, so can believers with their religion.

People are simply asking to be allowed to exist and practice their beliefs in peace, they aren’t really calling for the eradication of the other. Just as queers don’t actually intend to abolish heterosexuality, they just want to be left alone. Let people decide how they feel about certain things, instead of making them get rid of it for their own good; That is every individual’s personal choice, just as yours is. And that feels relevant, given how much Choice is a theme in this show, and especially in the finale in which Luz meets the Titan properly, with the Titan emphasizing this agency to her.

#If I’m right then this really resonates with me as a queer with a complicated relationship with Christianity where I’ve seen good and bad #the owl house #Dana Terrace #Christianity #boiling isles titan #analysis #meta #religion #speculation

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