#3! one to kill it and two to play the greek chorus :)

[keeps-ache]

i wish you could hear what it sounded like when my brothers try to kill a spricket

[sparklingchan]

Chapter 3|| Stormbringer- Stray Kids Demigod AU

Pairing : Reader(fem.) X Felix

Word count : 3.3k+

Warnings : A fight scene but it’s just practice XD

Genre : Romance, Demigod AU, fluff, angst.

Description: An unexpected incident brings you closer to Felix, but there’s one person who’s not very excited about this blossoming friendship. 

A/N : Things start getting interesting from here *insert the moon face emoji* Enjoy!

SERIES MASTERLIST ||  Click here for introduction to the story and glossary and here for the Stray Kids demigod diaries!

"A near miss, y/n."  Felix whispers in his deep, raspy voice sending shivers  through your entire body.

You blink awkwardly at him for a few seconds before he gets off of you and offers you his hand to help you stand up.

You hear the Aphrodite girls whispering behind you, giggling.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention." Your eyes are looking everywhere but at Felix, the heat from your cheeks making your whole face warm.

"It's alright, " he chuckles, "Are you hurt anywhere?" His freckles look even more gorgeous up close, his toothy smiles reminds you of bright skies and beaches and picnics and fresh fruits. And when the warm afternoon sunlight falls on his eyes, his brown orbs turn into a gentler shade of golden. Breathtaking.

"You're beautiful." You blurt out, involuntarily,  loud and clear so everyone hears you. A loud chorus of gasps run throughout the dining hall.

And you decide to run away back to your cabin with the little dignity you had left of yourself.

And there you are, once again thinking back to yesterday's events while polishing your precious arrow heads as you sit on the Zeus cabin's verandah.

You sigh, "It was the Aphrodite effect, right? It has to be!"

You've been pep talking to yourself all morning long, making up excuses for the way you behaved yesterday. You're too embarrassed to face your friends or the other people at camp.

"I mean he is good looking, but why did I say it out loud. Does he have powers? Like that of Hyunjin? Maybe he can charmspeak. Yes! That's probably it!" You mutter to yourself.

(a/n: Charmspeak is a rare type of hypnotic ability that Aphrodite kids possess)

Or perhaps he'd induced a new sense of adoration in you, like how Aphrodite kids usually can. But then again, they cannot actually induce these feelings. They can only manipulate them which means they'd have to exist in the first place.

You put the arrow back into it's case.

"Ugh!" You let out a loud groan, covering your face with your palms.

The image that you'd spent years to portray in front of everyone is all destroyed in the blink of an eye. Now no one's going to respect you as an only child of the Big Three, they're going to see you as a girl who gets smitten easily and not as the headstrong person you always acted like.

All because of that Lee Felix!

(a/n: big three refers to the three major Greek gods namely Poseidon, Zeus and Hades)

You stand up from the floor, not being able to handle the bombardment of thoughts in your mind, and decide that practicing sword fighting is the right thing to now.

So you find yourself making your way from behind the Athena cabin (where you can clearly hear Seungmin and another Athena kid debating over mortal politics) and then through the Jasmine fields that Apollo personally tends to and down the hill to the weapon practice arena.

"Hey, y/n."

Oh no, no no no.

Why is it that when you are trying to avoid a person that exact person is the one who keeps popping up everywhere? Why is it, you tell me, that Lee Felix happens to be in the practice arena just when you arrive there?

The Gods must be having a nice laughter up there, especially your father Zeus.

"H-hey!" You try to reply with fake enthusiasm.

He has his bronze sword in his right hand while he jogs up to you, his messy blonde hair shining like the sun.

"Did you sleep well?"

No, you hadn't.

"Yes, I did." You laugh awkwardly, "Slept wonderfully."

Felix laughs back, eyes hooded with a hint of shyness that hadn't existed till yesterday afternoon.

He tucks his bottom lip in between his teeth, "Hey, um about what you said yesterday-"

"Do you wanna duel with me?"

If you cannot escape him, you might as well divert his attention.

He looks at you like you'd just punched him in the face. His smile threatening to disappear any moment.

And that’s when you realise asking him to duel with you might not have been the brightest ideas, and not to mention how you'd called him beautiful in front a hundred other demigods last afternoon.

"I'd love to!" He replies, with an excited voice, "Swords?"

You open your mouth to reply, but only air slips out so you subtly nod. He doesn't have to know you're a nervous mess that's lowkey about to pass out.

You walk up to the armory and grab the first sword that you lay eyes on. Truth be told, a sword wasn't really the best choice of weapon for you. It's always been a bow and arrow for you. Bows make you feel at control, like you know what you're doing and you'd always been good at archery, without even trying to.

"Do you not have a sword of your own?" Felix asks almost as if reading your mind.

"No, I don't. Actually I'm more of an archer." You admit.

"Ah, of course. I remember how you killed that Cetus in a single shot. I must say, I was very impressed."

Your cheeks heat up at his compliment. It's not like people haven't complimented your archery skills before - they have, in fact they do it all the time yet you wonder why is it so much more meaningful to you when coming from Felix. Has your biggest fear finally come true?

You shake your head mentally, no, it cannot be.

"Thanks. You're not very bad with your sword either."

Felix acknowledges your compliment with a smile. He then stands up straight, the sword in his right and bows gently, a silly smile playing at his lips.

"Oh we're following the courtesies?" You whisper to yourself, copying his actions.

The both of you stand facing each other, a silent understanding flowing between the two of you while you take your dueling positions.

You expect him to attack first but he doesn't; instead he watches you with a smirk, as if trying to make you flustered.

(It was working but you'd rather never say that out loud)

So he attacks first. He aims his sword near your abdomen but you quickly jump to defend yourself, blocking his attack with your sword. The metallic clang of your swords ringing throughout the otherwise quiet arena. He stumbles back, a surprised gasp leaving his lips as your sword brushes swiftly past his neck while he's still catching his breath, barely touching him though. 

Of course, hurting the opponent isn’t the aim here. Disarming them is.

"She's not bad with the sword." He thinks to himself, a little proud.

He then retorts back, swinging his sword right in front of your face, missing by merely an inch.

Your heart does a backflip, both out of excitement and fear.

You don't waste a second, gaining back your balance, thrusting your sword in the space between his arm and abdomen. Your sword clash together as you try to push his sword back with yours, yet this time he resists, putting in all his energy to make you loose your grip on the sword.

And it seems to have worked because the next moment, he sees you losing your strength, your face scrunched in concentration as you let out a few grunts. He takes a single step towards you while applying more force on your sword with his, and there goes your sword, falling onto the ground gracefully, like a martyred soldier.

"Do you accept defeat, miss y/n?" Felix teases through laboured breaths and you only have enough energy to roll your eyes at him, hitting his arm in response.

Felix passes you back your sword, as he walks over to the bench and slumps down.

Your body is too tired to worry about Felix bringing up yesterday's incident, so you follow him and sit by his side. Neither of you say anything, your fanning breaths and thumping hearts and the buzzing of insects are the only sounds in the arena. You'd never experienced this kind of peacefulness in the camp before, at least not unless you were by yourself.

When you recover from your momentary exhaustion, you look over at Felix and softly begin, "I was wondering..."

He glances at you with a smile.

Does he ever stop smiling?

"I was wondering...since Hyunjin already told you about the game, would you like to be my partner for the capture the flag game next week? I usually go with Minho but he's a referee this time." You say.

He is taken aback for a second - mostly because he'd never thought someone as cool as you would ask him to be your partner. Team games are very important in camps and its important  to make sure that the teammates do not turn out to be poor players. It somehow makes Felix very happy that you'd have such faith in him despite having known him for only two days.

He nods, "I'd be honored to do that."

Your heart beats furiously as you suck in a deep breath, "It's a deal then."

Gosh y/n, what has gotten into you!

*

You decide to take the longer route back.

Felix left early after finishing the duel so you spent the next hour practicing Archery alone before deciding to head back to your cabin.

Your thoughts are all over the place as it is, but the quietness of the woods help you to sort things out with yourself. You feel rather uncomfortable, experiencing emotions that you'd not felt in a long time, past insecurities and memories fighting their way back from the dungeons you'd locked them up in. This was ridiculous, wasn't it? How Felix comes out of nowhere and just flips everything up?

The sun rays fall on you from the gaps between the tree branches and as you listen to the birds chirp around you, you start to slowly hum to their tune.

"Wow, who hurt you, y/n?" A male voice calls you from behind, the sound of leaves getting crushed under a pair of hooves indicate the approaching entity.

"No one hurt me, Eden."

Eden is still as handsome as ever, you wonder to yourself everytime you return to the camp, with a sturdy upper body and beautiful grey eyes and two strong goat limbs instead of normal human legs, yet he's so much more alluring than any satyr you'd ever seen. (Then again, maybe you're just biased because he’s also your childhood friend) He flashes you a handsome smile and you immediately pray to the gods that he doesn't see you blush.

(a/n: Satyrs, also known as Fauns by Romans, are creatures with the upper body of a man and the lower body of a goat as well as goat horns, and the pointed ears of a goat. )

"What's up." He stands in front of you and kisses you softly on the head, "I had gone out yesterday so I couldn't come see you. Hope you didn't miss me too much."

You hit his chest, "You're so full of yourself, goat-boy." You continue walking back towards your cabin, Eden following right behind.

"Woahh. Using Minho's nicknames now, are we?" He snickers, "One of the kids told me that you had a little hormonal outburst last afternoon?"

An embarrassed sigh leaves you lips. The camp kids really couldn't miss out on one day of gossip now could they?

"I don't wanna talk about it." You mutter as yesterday's events flash into your mind. Felix, his face, his voice and your words. Oh God.

"Hey, no judgment here, okay? If you like the new Aphrodite boy then I support you. Do you want me to play wingman?"

You turn around and smack his chest once again. "I do not like him." Yet.

"Okay, okay. I get it." His tone falls serious, "Anyway  I heard about Poseidon's trident. It scared me, I won't lie. Something as powerful as that trident has never been forged in a millennia. And I can only imagine how powerful one has to be steal it. Are you sure only nine demigods are enough to find it?"

"It has to be, Eden." You say, "We don't have too many options. It's either this or we all drown and die or get killed by a monster. I'd like to choose the former."

Eden nods at your words, patting your head encouragingly.

You are about to speak up again when your eyes fall on a woman sitting on a log of wood just a few meters ahead of you.

"Is that one of the Aphrodite girls?" You whisper to Eden, only for him to shake his head in response.

The woman sits with her back facing you, a beautiful white dress adorning her small skinny frame and her brown hair tied in a tidy floral braid. Either the woman is a daughter of Aphrodite's or a Nymph, you conclude.

Without thinking much, you approach her, "Um, hello? May I know who you are?"

A startled gasp escapes your mouth when the woman turns around and looks at you with a very familiar smile playing at her lips - you'd grown up seeing that smile on Hyunjin and very recently on Felix. It's the very same smile, a Xerox copy of it.

"Aphrodite?" You mutter and she nods in response.

"Hello, y/n. Mind if I have a word with you?"

*

"So you were out with y/n? Dueling?" Changbin asks for the umpteenth time this morning, his usually playful eyes now focused seriously on Felix's body language.

"Yes, Changbin," Felix groans, lying flat on his fluffy bed, "Can you stop making a big deal out of it?"

Chan chuckles at the conversation, his eyes though focused on the book in front of him but his ears are on his two best friends' conversation. Chan knew Changbin wasn't the kind to trust people easily, especially Zeus' children so it's not surprising of him to be suspicious about you but what does come as a surprise to Chan is how oddly giggly Felix has been since last afternoon. After that awkward encounter with you. Could it be that Felix..?

"Do you like Zeus' daughter?" Changbin asks even before Chan can finish his line of  thought.

Felix's eyes widen, but the tips of his ears are bright red, "Dude I just met her. Can you not act like a love guru out of the blue?"

"Hey, you're the love expert here. Literally. So, I should be expecting a better answer from you, no?"

"No, I do not like her. Okay?" Felix groans, "But she did ask me to be her partner for the game next week and I'm telling you beforehand Seo Changbin, do not say or assume anything that would make her uncomfortable. "

The warning comes off as rather cute to Chan since he’s always seen the Aphrodite kid as his little brother while Changbin finds his words a tad bit alarming. A Zeus kid is not to be trusted this easily.

"Fine." Changbin mutters, his lips pressing into a thoughtful line, "But just be careful because  I - "

"Don't trust the Children of Zeus easily, yeah we know. Come on, Bin. Let him have some fun and make new friends. You should do it, too. We're not on our own anymore." Chan pipes in to save Felix this time and Felix secretly sends a thankful wink to him in return.

"Okay, okay." Changbin gives in.

The door to Felix's room creaks ever so slightly and the three of them turn their heads in anticipation of who it might be.

"Hey. Sorry to disturb you guys but we're being called for dinner." Hyunjin says, still getting used to having three new demigods around in the camp.

Chan closes his book, "Oh, come on, Hyunjin. You're not disturbing us. Come on in."

Felix gets up to greet his half brother with a fist bump and when he stands beside Hyunjin, the two older guys find it hilarious how terribly small he looks. Almost like Hyunjin were his father.

Felix almost as if reads their minds and narrows their eyes at them, "Dinner is ready guys. Can we move?"

"Shortie." Hyunjn whispers incoherently and makes a run towards the door.

"Hey, come back here you piece of -" Felix dashes right after him.

Changbin and Chan chuckle at their tactics, a foreign feeling of calmness settling between them. "This feels like home, Chan. We're finally home." Changbin admits, almost emotionally.

"Yes, Bin." Chan adds, "And I hope we never have to leave again."

*

"Aphrodite said what now?"

You sigh, running your index finger mindlessly along the lines of the wooden dinner table.

"She wants us to take the new demigods with us to find Poseidon's trident. Especially Felix." You look at your friends, "And she asked me to specifically visit the island of Sicily when we go on the quest. I asked her why but she said she doesn't know it herself."

Hyunjin grunts, almost irritated, "Y/n, I don't know how much you can trust my mother. She's known to cause drama for her own entertainment. "

Well, you do agree with what Hyunjin says but you cannot deny that Aphrodite didn't seem like she was purposely creating drama this time.

"Listen, y/n, you have to go to The island of Sicily. It will lead you to the trident, trust me." She whispers as if she is afraid of someone overhearing your conversation, "Take Felix with you. You'll need him. He'll need you."

You shudder at the memory of her unusually spooky tone.

"What do you think, dad?" Jisung turns to Apollo who has ever so naturally claimed a spot at your usual dinner table tonight, "Do you think we should let new demigods on a quest?"

"I don't think Aphrodite is playing this time. We should listen to her." He taps his finger against his chin, deep in thought, "We need as many people as we can get."

"Well, yeah. That makes sense." Minho says and you nod, "Yeah, Eden can talk to the three boys. He's always been good at all that."

The lack of protests from your friends indicate their approval and after talking about the quest for a few more minutes, Apollo leaves your table.

"So," Jisung chimes in as soon as his father is out of sight, "Our Y/n has been dueling with Lee Felix?"

You let out an exasperated growl, "Oh God, Jisung! It was just today!"

Jisung snickers and sticks out his tongue, rendering your words useless. Minho raises an eyebrow at your banter while the other boys giggle, "Eden tells me you are already smitten."

Eden! God, that Eden, you mentally vow to punch that smirk off of Eden's face the next time you see him. Why does he keep pushing ridiculous ideas into other people's head!

"I'm not smitten -"

"Who are you talking about?"

Your blood runs dry.

Please tell me Felix didn't just overhear this one conversation which includes me having a crush on him.

"Hey, Lix." Hyunjin laughs, "Took you three long enough to get here  I went to your room like an hour ago."

Felix rubs the back of his neck, guilty, "Changbin spilled water on my favorite sweatshirt. "

A short guy - probably Changbin - slaps Felix's back. "Ouch!"

"Liar!" Felix rolls his eyes, turning to speak with you, "Anyway, y/n, I'm assuming you're the only to not have met my brothers yet."

"Yeah, i think so." You reply with a small smile.

Felix pats the back of the two boys on his right and left respectively. "Chan, Changbin, meet y/n, she's Zeus' daughter and y/n, meet Chan, he's Poseidon's son and Changbin - Ares' son."

Oh wow that is a new combination.

The guy introduced as Chan has a kind smile and messy brown hair while the Changbin dude has jet black hair and very intimidating eyes. He looks up and down your form, as if checking whether you were worth being Felix's friend - vibe checking, if you may.

"Hi, I'm y/n."

With the introductions done and dinner served, your group of old and new friends enjoy this peaceful evening together. The loud laughs and sassy remarks and friendly banters make you feel somewhat calm, but a part of you knows this isn't for long.

It’s like the calm before the storm.

"So, are we meeting for practice tomorrow too?" Felix whispers into your ears when he finds the others too indulged in conversation.

Your heart picks up its pace but you manage to nod with pink cheeks, "Yes. Same time as today."

A few seats away from you, Changbin overhears your conversation and decides that he doesn't really like you.

*

Taglist: @chogiwow​@ctrlaltfangirl​@blueprint-han​@whattaweeb​@bigskzz​@judewalid​@kpopssuregi​@crispy-chan​@cookielino​@rebelspy​@persassystilinski@stayctday​@charlieshelves​

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[celosiaa]

Oh! And! What happens the time Jon inevitably faints in class? All the teachery Jon bits make me so happy cuz I am nothing if not a giant projector.

Hey guess what!! I wrote a lil fic about this instead of studying!

(big thanks to @taylortut who helped me work out the details and keep me informed!! you��re the bees knees <3)

Just as a reminder to everyone: in this AU, Jon is a professor, has EDS/POTS, a service dog named Iris, and a niece named Molly (Tim and Sasha’s adopted daughter). Molly happens to be a student in his class this semester. I hope you will enjoy <3

“Now, when we think about what’s coming next—as I assume you are all at least somewhat familiar with the story of Oedipus—you can clearly see this foreshadowing of the downfall played out in every line. This lends itself well into one of the elements of classical tragedy, as we’ve discussed: hubris—or in Ancient Greek, “ὕβρις.”  If you look back at the first antistrophe of chorus two it is quite clear—”

God, just slow down.

Pencil working furiously over her notepad, Molly’s frustration quickly grows as she listens to her Uncle Jon talking faster and faster, barely able to keep up with the page flipping and the hand raising and whatever infernal Greek word he’s written on the board now.

Should never have taken this class, she can’t help but think, reaching up for a moment to rub at her eyes beneath her glasses.  Some part of her had thought it might be fun, might serve as a fantastic opportunity to tease him at family dinners—but he talks so damned fast, she often cannot even look up to see if anything amusing is happening.

It’s very irritating.

Nearly lost in the scratching of her pencil and the endless drone of his voice, she barely catches the sound of Iris’s collar jingling as she stands and pads over to the center of the room, where Jon stands lecturing.

Can’t be good.

Notes instantly forgotten, Molly picks up her head to watch—seeing Iris lick his hand in what she knows is an alert for him to sit down at once.  Of course, as Uncle Jon tends to do, he remains too distracted by whatever passionate point he’s trying to make, simply continuing to motion fervently at the board.

Please sit down, please sit down, Molly thinks, her leg beginning to bounce with worry as Iris carries on licking and nipping at his hand, and he carries on ignoring her.

You’re going to fall.

And sure enough, after a few more moments of this, he cuts off his long monologue rather suddenly in favor of leaning against the wall, blinking rapidly as his knees start to wobble.

“Sit down, Uncle Jon,” Molly says loudly from her seat, wanting more than anything than to get up and lower him to the floor—but he had asked his students not to, and so she wants to respect his instructions. And save herself a chewing out.

But with every second that passes, he wavers more and more, and Iris barks at him—he doesn’t quite make it, half sliding down to sit against the wall—but really, more falling than anything.  

Damn it.  

As soon as he hits the ground, Iris is on top of him, lying across his chest as a way of bringing blood back up to his brain, helping him to regain consciousness more quickly.  Molly’s classmates immediately start up a low hum of commotion, mostly filled with gasps and expressions of worry—until one arsehole grabs his backpack, and ducks quickly out of the room now that the professor is on the floor.

Oh, I’ll kill him, Molly decides at once, such rage filling her as she glances between his fleeing back and where her uncle lies.  As she directs her focus back toward him, he awakens with a gasp—immediately grimacing and pressing a hand to the back of his head.

Damn it all.

Solemnly accepting that he might be beyond angry with her for it, she can’t help but go to him now that he’s clearly smacked his head on something.  She grabs her packed lunch along the way—ready to offer him either juice or ice.  Both, perhaps, if necessary.

“Hey, Uncle Jon,” she says as gently as she can, coming to crouch near him, where Iris still lies on top of him.  “Need some ice?”

“N-no, I—“ he rubs his hand over the back of his head one more time, as if to make sure.  “I think I’m alright.”

“That’s good.  I’ve got some juice you can have, if you can sit,” she says, pulling a bottle of apple juice from her bag and shaking it, twisting the lid open for him as he moves to sitting—and Iris moves to lie across his thighs instead.

“Thank you,” he mutters as she hands it to him, sipping at it slowly.  “You can go back to your seat now.”

“I’d like to see you get up first.”

The glare she receives in return may be nothing in comparison to many she has been on the receiving end of in the past, but it’s enough to tell her he is irritated, all the same.

“If that’s okay with you,” she adds quickly, hoping to deflate him a bit—and it seems she was successful, as he nods his assent, screwing the top back on the bottle.

Stepping back at once, she watches carefully as Jon directs Iris to sit near him, then braces against both her and the wall as he stands.  She does not move until she sees him cross the room to the chair at his desk, coming to sit cross-legged upon it to keep the blood from pooling in his legs again.

Satisfied, Molly returns to her seat—offering a glare to her classmates as she does, silently challenging any of them to say an errant word about it.

“Right,” Jon begins again from the front of the room, voice a bit thin, before starting again.  “Right.  Could someone please remind me of where we were?”

“The first antistrophe of chorus two, Professor.”

“Thank you, Rowan.  Allow me just a moment, please,” he says in his very best professional tone, causing Molly to roll her eyes at once as he slips back into his “annoying professor” mode.

Why the hell am I in this class?

“Alright.  Let’s pick back up there again—and please pay attention to the foreshadowing of hubris as we go.  Would you be so kind as to read for us, please, Anna?”

“Yes, sir.”

Thankful to at least have a moment’s reprieve from note-taking as her classmate reads, Molly takes the time to look back up at Jon—who is now drinking the juice she had offered readily, quite a bit less ashen than in the previous few minutes.  As if sensing her eyes on him, he turns to meet her gaze, and she suddenly fears his scowl as a rebuke for not paying attention—but he only offers her a soft smile, and a nod of silent thanks that she cannot help but return.

You know I’ve got you, she thinks—for once, hoping that he would read her mind and find it there.

She could never say such a dreadfully mushy thing aloud.

[hypmic-translation]

Don’t Pass The Mic

ALL: Don’t-don’t-don’t pass the mic! (Gi-gi-gi-gimme the mic!)

Say what?

RAMUDA: Yo, say, say, say what? Diggity-do-do-don’t pass the mic Sorry to keep ya waiting out here long, ladies With complete control over candy and whip (1) I’ll sneak into your earphones with just a touch Fling Posse bespoke new coordinates Constantly cutting edge is Ramuda’s flow An all-you-can-eat naughty buffet My drops are Shibuya’s guidance

GENTARO: Mm, chrysanthemums blooming in one’s bedside dreams (2) As if within Dogra Magra, the world appears to be infinite (3) Like being dragged into an antlion pit (4) It’s so incredibly natural for the heart to invite abnormality Fragile, you’re so easily teasable The dreams I paint upon the town are all ghost stories, a sweet honey (5) It’s a secret (shh!), but that’s really just a lie

DICE: Three-seven, what the hell? From heaven Endlessly winnin’ pools of cash to jump into, wahoo! (6) I ain’t like the rest, I hate takin’ things slow (7) By the end of the night, all your cash’ll be mine Boom-shakalaka-boom-shakalaka-boom Full stack, raising bets on my luck Only half-serious, Dead or Alive Dice are what I’ll stake my life on, y’knyow? (8)

ALL: Don’t-don’t-don’t pass the mic!

CHORUS: Wack MCs, get rid of them all Thrust out these daggers (say what?) Understand intuition, an instant conclusion Connect dots with my words East side, west side, lock, stock, barrel Scatter crowds, rule the stage Division Battle life, etched into our minds I won’t just pass my mic to you!

Oath be made! There’s no escape! Unbeatable thugs who can’t be shaken Now our words become machine guns Or a compass guiding us into the future, uh Three become one It’s showtime Carve it into history, our style Roaming life and death, genetic power Just put your trust into your instincts, say what?

ALL: What, say what? (x3) (RAMUDA: Don’t pass the mic!)                                   (GENTARO: Don’t pass the mic.)                                   (DICE: Don’t pass the mic!) Welcome to the division!

JAKURAI: Impropriety writhes and coils about all of these howling fools Blood and tears flowing throughout this city, caused by rampant verbal abuse Even the hope we tell ourselves to believe in has curled up and died in our throats Why does mankind rush towards death like the falling of cherry blossoms? (9) Helpless… A pomegranate trampled on a silent night (10) In this wasteland we build Matenrou’s paradise The words I breathe out are clear and serene Prepare to expose one’s self to a shower of taunts

HIFUMI: Hi, hi, hi! Can you hear the call? Bow, bow, bow! The excitement’s not enough If the princess can drink there’s no reason why the prince shouldn’t too! Champagne! (Bang!) Hugging kittens from behind will surely make them scream Eternally calling out for this yellow rose Tacky, ugly men are to be kicked out Gigolos and graceful women only in this jet bath

DOPPO: Aah, I really don’t want to do this anymore Getting caught in the automatic turnstile again (11) “Crap!” Power harassment, moral harassment, a painfully repetitive loop Being beaten to produce results is hip All those walking the city seem like hard workers But I’m a corporate drone, always gritting my teeth through loneliness I can’t do this much longer, my SNS is erased Let me run away and disappear into a parallel world!

ALL: Don’t-don’t-don’t pass the mic!

CHORUS: Wack MCs, get rid of them all Thrust out these daggers (say what?) Understand intuition, an instant conclusion Connect dots with my words East side, west side, lock, stock, barrel Scatter crowds, rule the stage Division Battle life, etched into our minds I won’t just pass my mic to you!

ALL: What, say what? (x3) (JAKURAI: Don’t pass the mic.)                                   (HIFUMI: Don’t pass the mic!)                                   (DOPPO: Don’t pass the mic!) Welcome to the division!

JINPACHI: It’s Edo Asakusa, you ready to begin? (12) Infernos and fights, I’m good at starting both Master, leader, I’m Demon’s Fire (13) Onigawara Bomber’s Jinpachi (14) The hell’d you say! Shutting down geisha and ladles (15) Oi, dumbass! Sharp words cutting through thick bastards Trendy, stylish demons and lanterns Wash your face with miso soup, then never come here again! (16)

MASAMUNE: The perfect kind of saké is saké that’s cool The original drunkard has arrived (17) Recklessly drinking, this red-faced Bacchus (18) The drunker I get, the smoother my flow It’s scale is simply too big for you foolish amateurs You have good reason to fear, drawing back like an oaf I’ll be the one to sew your mouth shut Then celebrate victory with some high-grade booze

DOSHIRO: Carp streamers are flown in May (19) Yet somehow you don’t even know the flavour of soba (20) Expect a war if you damage Sensō-ji, ‘kay (21) The unrivalled NiHachi stands guard in Shitamachi (22) I, an efficient yet obstinate person Brazen with the force of blooming fireworks With confidence in my skill and pride in my work It is my duty to knock people like you horizontal

ALL: Don’t-don’t-don’t pass the mic!

RAMUDA: Big trouble is the price of life JAKURAI: It is inevitable that those who prosper will fall JINPACHI: The rebellion arrives, eliminating false things ALL: A revolution of words, don’t pass the mic!

CHORUS: Wack MCs, get rid of them all Thrust out these daggers (say what?) Understand intuition, an instant conclusion Connect dots with my words East side, west side, lock, stock, barrel Scatter crowds, rule the stage Division Battle life, etched into our minds I won’t just pass my mic to you!

The end is near The greatest conflict Roaring into my Hypnosis Mic Straight hit to your soul, self-customised These words that’ll burn up your synapses Three become one It’s showtime Carve it into history, our style Roaming life and death, genetic power Just put your trust into your instincts, say what?

ALL: What, say what? (Don’t pass the mic!) (x3) Welcome to the division! It’s kill or be killed, oi!

NOTES

“Candy and whip”, AKA carrot and stick. Basically, offering rewards to someone as an incentive to do good and punishing them if they don’t.

“Bedside dreams”, or the space where your dreams reside. The chrysanthemum is the imperial flower of Japan, but in hanakotoba white chrysanthemums usually mean truth/grief, and are incredibly common at funerals. Tldr, you aren’t dreaming, you’re dead.

Dogra Magra is a surrealist, psychological thriller book written by famous Japanese author Yumeno Kyūsaku (actually a pen name), in which a man wakes up in a hospital with amnesia. He might be a murderer, but he also might not be, and everyone else in the book might not be who they say they are or even as dead as they’re supposed to be. It is, mostly, a book about psychoanalysis.

The antlion is a type of insect that, surprise surprise, eats ants. The larvae, which is the more popularly known form of the antlion, achieves this by digging pits that ants fall into. Another name for the larvae of antlions is doodlebug, but that seemed out of character for Gentaro to say… you can pretend he does if you want to, though.

The literal translation of “ghost stories” would be “demon play” (鬼物), which is the fifth and last stage of an Edo-era Noh play.

Dice uses onomatopoeia here to signify the act of jumping into a pool, like he’s doing a cannonball.

More onomatopoeia here, read as chimachima, which signifies someone doing a task in a less effective, much slower way when it could be done far more efficiently.

Dice finishes this line with a very obvious “nya” sound, but he also phrases it as a question? So I merged the two and made a pun instead.

It’s traditional in Japan for people to get together during spring for “flower viewing parties” in which they appreciate the transient beauty of cherry blossoms, because of how quickly the flowers bloom and then fall away. That phenomenon is what Jakurai is referencing here.

I’ll be honest I have no idea what this means. The pomegranate is a symbol of fertility and femininity in Japan, however, so maybe it represents Chuuoku?

Automatic turnstiles/ticket gates, like the kind you’d find in railway stations.

Asakusa was a popular entertainment district during the Edo period, but has since been surpassed by Shinjuku and other districts/wards thanks to the damage dealt by bomb raids during WW2.

Jinpachi’s MC name. Just so I don’t have to do this every time, all of Asakusa say their MC names in English.

An ‘onigawara’ is actually the name for a type of roof ornament in Japanese architecture, which is a statue/tile depicting the face of an oni (demon), intended to ward away evil (and bad weather). They’re commonly found on Buddhist temples. The “bomber” part of the division name probably has to do with the aforementioned WW2 thing.

This guy has the thickest Edo accent. His “the hell” is an shortened version of an old retort/catchphrase of Tokyo citizens (“what the hell are you saying/talking about?”). “Geisha” and “ladle” are both references to cultural aspects of Asakusa, as it is currently Tokyo’s oldest geisha district, and in the Buddhist Sensō-ji temple located there (the oldest in Japan) you purify yourself with ladles of water.

The expression “never come again” stems from the more literal phrase of “come the day before yesterday” - essentially, a day that won’t ever exist again.

A reference to an old song from the 1960s by the Folk Crusaders. It tells the story of a man who dies in a traffic accident while drunk driving and goes to heaven, but gets kicked out and comes back to life for spending too much time drinking with beautiful women.

Bacchus, the Greek/Roman god of fruit, vegetables, ecstasy and wine. Also known as Dionysus.

A reference to Tango no Sekku/Children’s Day on May 5th in Japan, in which carp streamers are flown to celebrate. This is the last day of Golden Week.

Ni-hachi (Doshiro’s MC name) is a kind of soba. He’s essentially saying “it’s so late in the song, but you haven’t had a taste of me yet”.

“Sensō-ji”, or Asakusa Temple. It is the oldest temple in Tokyo.

Shitamachi is the name for the geographically lower half and (once) lower-class of Tokyo, which is considered more traditional than its Yamanote counterpart.

[mbakuetshurisprincess]

Destiny Series

AN: Yall... I’m soo shocked how quickly yall are fucking with that mood board like actually soo shocked. I was going to do Egyptian gods cause when I was younger I read the Kane Chronicles and I fell in love with Egyptian mythology and their gods BUT I feel like more people know Greek gods and it’s easier to like deal with Greek gods family tree vs Egyptian because whew chileeee that would of been a mess. BIG BIG BIG ups to @chaneajoyyy​ for a. proofreading and catching the little errors and for supporting me. 

Summary: On May 14th a god or goddess picks someone to take their place in the following years, when T’challa invites everyone in your graduating class to his house for a Chaining day party chaos ensues and relationships get tested.

Pairing: Erik x reader

Warnings: cussing, light smut like literally  I don’t wanna call it smut because it’s so light. 

Word count: 2,111

It was May 14th and the eve of arguably the most important day of your life, chaining day. Chaining day was a right of passage that had been happening since before you or any other Wakandan had been alive, chaining day was the day in which the gods and goddesses came down to earth and selected who was going to fill their position as that specific next god in the next years. Chaining day only occurred once every three generations and it happened that it fell upon you and your peers. You laid on your bedroom floor while your two best friends Makyla and Aaron sat across from you in bean bag chairs.

“I just don’t get why you're not excited Y/N” Makyla said nonchalantly, “I can’t wait to figure out which god chose me! I hope it someone like Hera or Aphrodite. They would suit me don’t you think?” 

“Your annoying ass deserves Hestia” Aaron mumbled under his breath earning him a firm slap on his arm.

You sat up from your floor and took a slow breath in and exhaled. “I just don’t get why it falls onto US, like why can’t the gods choose someone who wants to be a god not a normal person who just wants to live and die and get this shit over with.”

Aaron rolled his eyes “You're just worried that you and Erik’s gods won’t be together and some other girl will have him”

“HA” you laughed out sarcastically “That punk ass nigga can get whatever trick ass whore wants him, we are over and I dont give a flying fuck who gets him”

The room got silent because that lie and everyone in the room knew it, you and Erik never went into full relationship territory just comments under each others posts and his constant flirting with you. But it all ended when he posted a photo with a girls arms wrapped around his shoulders and a blunt in his hand and the caption “all the bitches fuckin with me, its like im the god of pussy or sum..” That was the last straw, and you hadn’t actually spoken to him since you’d seen that post go up.

“Can we go now y'all?” Makyla asked “I want to get to T’challa’s party early and get a good spot for chaining time”

“Are you sure we have to go? We could just stay in and watch a movie until chaining time” you lay your head back down onto your plush carpet and squeezed your eyes shut. You heard movement above you and opened to see Aaron and Makyla standing over you an annoyed look on their faces.

“Fine, fine!” you grumbled outstretching one of your hands out signalling for one of them to help you up, Aaron groaned and grabbed your hand pulling you off the ground. You walked over to your closet, you pulled out a pair of light wash ripped jeans, a white cropped t-shirt and a multi colored nike windbreaker. To emphasize the fact that you didn’t want to go you groaned and moaned while putting on your clothes.

“Keep playing Erik’s gonna give you something to moan about” Makyla said under her breath causing Aaron and her to bust out into a fit of laughter, you turned your head to them and gave them a look that shot daggers.

By the time you got to T’challa’s house you were reminded of why you didn't want to go to his chaining day party and your reason was sitting right at the front door like some self righteous bouncer. You thought if you ducked and hid in between Makyla and Aaron he wouldn’t spot you, but of course he did.

“Woah woah woah lil mama where do you think you're going” Erik’s arm had snaked in between your friends and grabbed you out from in between them. You looked up at your friends with pleading eyes practically begging them to help you out which caused Erik to laugh. “Nah nah ma, your friends can’t help you now, you've been ignoring me and I wanna know why.”

You looked around and noticed a few familiar faces, he wanted to embarrass you in front of your friends? And make a lesson out of you for his other bitches, not today.

You looked down at your arm and back up at him “Nigga I don’t owe you shit.” you snateched your arm from his hand and folded them across your exposed midriff.

A chorus of “Ooo’s” erupted from the small crowd that had developed.

Erik smiled and licked his lips “I asked you a question Y/N and I’m telling you to answer it right fucking now before it gets bad for you.”

You cocked your eyebrow up at him, oh so he thought you were playing?

“Nigga I gave you my answer, you don’t need anything else from me. Now excuse me I’ve got a party to attend” You smirked up at him and waved your finger signaling for him to move out of your way. You had him beat, you could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

“Last chance Y/N before I embarrass you in front of all of these fucking people and I swear to god I will”

You batted your eyes up at Erik innocently and your hands found the collar of his shirt. “Oh no baby boy” you wiped some dust off of his shoulder “I think I just embarrassed you”

You tried to walk away, you had won that fight fair and square and everyone in T’challa’s yard knew it or so you thought. Until you felt strong arms wrap around you calf's and felt you world flip upside down.

“ERIK!” You screamed out hitting his back with an array of punches in varying strengths.

The yard erupted into laughter as Erik walked you through the front door, you caught Makyla’s eye as Erik walked you up the stairs still slung over his shoulder. When he got up to one of the guest bedrooms he plopped you on the bed and locked the door behind himself, when he walked back over to you, you shot him a deathly stare.

“What the fuck was that Y/N?”

“What the hell is posting other bitches Erik? Hmm?” 

You dug your phone out of you pocket and pulled out his instagram, instantly finding the photo you were looking for “all the bitches fuckin with me, its like im the god of pussy or sum.” you mocked his tone.

Erik plopped down on the bed next to you “man this why you been ignorning me for the past two weeks” Erik paused “I thought you had found another nigga ma”

You laid your head back onto the bed and laughed lightly “No Erik I haven’t found another nigga, its just been me sitting around looking stuck waiting for you when you obviously hadn’t been doing the same.”

“It’s not even like that ma, that’s Vannah, you know her and M’baku were going through something and she asked me to take the picture with her and post it to get him mad. They got back together tonight and I was taking it down tomorrow. I can show you the texts to prove it” Erik pulled out his phone and showed you the texts between him and Vannah and her begging and him finally agreeing after she agreed to buy his alcohol for a month.

“Fine I GUESS I’m done being mad at you.” you poked your bottom lip out at him in a mock pout.

“You better stop poking that lip out before I bite it baby girl” Erik rolled you over on top of him forcing you to straddle him,with his hands resting on your ass. “Fuck I can’t wait to tear this shit up ma” his hand smacked your ass roughly “I’ma give you back shots so hard you're gonna feel that shit all week I’m gonna have you-”

Erik was interrupted by counting below you.

“Fuck” you said getting of of his lap “It’s almost time”

 10

“Turn off the lights ma”

9

“Who do you think your gonna get Erik”

8

“I dunno but if I get stuck with some bitch ass mother fucker I’m killing whoever got Zeus”

7

“I want someone calm, someone who does their job and stays out of any drama”

6

“Give me your hands Erik”

5

“I got love for you baby girl, you know that?” Even in the darkness you could see his brown eyes pierce your soul.

4

“Promise to stay friends no matter what happens”

3

“We will stay friends no matter what happens Y/N” he squeezed your hands lightly

2

“I love you Erik Stevens”

1

That was the last thing you remember hearing before a bright white light flashed in front of you, so bright you let go of Erik’s hands to shield your eyes. In a few moments it dimmed.

“My child” a voice called at you

You looked around for the source of the voice and found a strong willow tree waving in the wind, you walked towards it and felt the plush green grass beneath your feet, it felt softer than anything you had ever felt. 

“Sit” the tree told you softly you could make out eyes, nose and mouth in its brown bark.

“Persphone” the words fell out of your mouth without you even knowing they were coming.

She smiled at you transforming before your eyes from a tree into a beautiful black woman, her curves filled out her chiton you noticed her outfit matched yours but she wore it much better.

“Come here” she opened her arm to you and stood up and ran into them burying your face in her chest tears flowing down your face. It didn't hit you until now of her story and what happened, she fell for Hades, a forbidden love and then for the rest of her life spent half of her life with the people she loved and the other half of the year with the man that she hated how much she loved him.

She stroked you curly hair and spoke soothing words to you “I know this is not the outcome you were expecting by I have gifted you a ability”

 You pulled your head off of her and looked up at Persephone tears still threatening to spill out of your eyes. 

“Open your arm”

You obliged her and held your left arm out for her, you noticed a small tattoo outline of a plant.

“Touch it”

You followed her instructions and out of thin air a small plant was in your hand, you immediately recognized it as a venus fly trap similar to the one that grew on your window sill. 

“Anywhere that you walk plants will grow underneath you as long as your on the floor of a building it doesn't matter how many layers on concretes are in between you. Plants will grow” She caressed your cheek in her hand. A gong rang out and you looked up at Persephone, your eyes pleading for some kind of answers or help.

“What am I supposed to do? You have to help me please!” you felt a pulling on your waist as if you were attached to a rope and the other end was pulling you back in.

“Do not fight it Y/N destiny is destiny and you are destined to be with Hades” and with those last words the bright white light flashed again and you covered your eyes. You felt like you were falling but quickly you realized you were back at T'challa's house in the same room that you had been in before with Erik, however he wasn't here now. But when you speak of the devil he shall appear and like clockwork blue flames were produced around a body, you could hear what sounded like a large dog barking and then it all went away, you squeeze your eyes shut not sure what to expect. You heard a familiar chuckle in front of you and you immediately opened your eyes and started at the bottom up. Black tims paired with black jeans and no shirt you studied the person's chest in front of you which now held thousands of tiny scars, a fur coat draped his bare chest his left hand holding a ball of what looked like fire. You finally met his eyes, dark but with a hint of fire in them.

“Wh-who” you barely managed to get it out before a smirk formed across Erik’s face.

“Hades, god of the underworld”

Tag List: @chaneajoyyy @chasingsunlight @writerbee-ffs @dessianna1

[x-spooks]

Just Right. (Got7 AU) Ep. 3

We’re skipping back to your POV. You’re getting ready for your performance.

A phone screen was shoved in your face, "Dad wants to talk to you." Gun said with a pleased tone. You glanced to the make-up artist who was hiding the pink in your skin with blueish grey, "One moment please," you asked as you took the phone. He nodded and stepped away to give you a little privacy. "Dad?" You asked politely while taking in your transformation. You looked like you had just stepped out of a warring fairy vs. demon manga. Your navy hair was styled in soft beach waves with random braids through out. It was tugged into a half up, half down situation. The purple circle lens weren't only making your eyes itch. They were freaking you out. Your dad's voice ripped you out of your thoughts. "Inez-Mi," his dad tone gave away everything. 1.) He was livid. 2.) He was about to pull out his I'm-in-charge card. 3.) You were fucked. "You are going to do as I say without complain and without faltering even a step." You looked away from your reflection and up to Gun's satisfied face, annoyed. "It wasn't as horrific as Gun had explained." You offered in your defense. "Do not interrupt me!" He yelled. You narrowed your new creepy eyes on Gun and mouthed I'm going to kill you. He got the messaged and took a half step back. "You will offer your gold cuff while making a promise of protection from yourself and others. You will extend your hand and kiss the palm while bowing deeply to JB." "What!" You leapt out of the make-up chair keeping your eyes fixed on Gun, "No." You snapped in English. "The reverse offering is for a Temple not some prick I already said sorry too." "You will do as you are told." He growled in Hangul. "It is arranged." Click. You briefly glanced at the screen to see if he had really hung up on you. Yep. Your eyes returned to Gun. Tears of rage threatened to ruin your make-up. You looked up to the ceiling while extending your hand with his phone in it. He reached out to grab it but You let it slip from your fingers. The loud hollow crunch of metal and cracking of glass might've made you smile in any other situation. "Was that necessary?" Song-I annoyingly high voice demanded. She walked further into the green room tent in her modern take of the Korean Goddess, Hae-Soo. She gracefully sat herself in a chair. You were about to comment on Song-I existence not being necessary when Gun spoke up, "Nyx's eyes aren't used to her contacts." He knelt and snatched his phone off the floor. He expected it carefully as he rose. "It'll take time." "Like everything else," Song-I huffed. Her honey brown eyes fixed on You. Ignoring her, You finally looked at your reflection. Everything was still in place. You sat back in the chair. The make-up artist came back over to finish his masterpiece. It only took another twenty minutes before he was done. He slid the last layer of black liquid lipstick across your pouters lips. "Try not to smile or bump your lips together until it dries," he advised with a smile. You bowed to him in thanks. "Goddess's don't bow to mere mortals," he joked as he stepped aside so You could see your reflection. You completely forgot what he had told you as you took yourself in. Your mouth dropped open. You were unrecognizable. You looked like one of those gorgeous slightly scary fae warriors. The shire navy/purple fabrics which cuffed your wrists and draped up to your shoulders of your Greek Goddess costume caught the light beautifully. Your costume played with the fine line of feminine and warrior. If Xena and Disneys Hades had a baby, it would look just like you. All the gold accents were silver expect the wide hammered cuff arm bracelet. A crescent moon was engraved in its center. You tilted your head side to side to take it all in. Your smile was so white compared to your skin. You suddenly wished you had snap in fangs. Maybe next time. "Don't forget this." You turned to see Minyoung in her Eopsin costume with Nyx's crown in her gold painted hands. Her red gown and hair pin were far more traditional than Song-I’s Hae-Soo. You bent low at the knees to help Eopsin place the crown on your head. It was less of a laurel wreath and more of a delicate silver tiara with a crescent moon dangling just above the middle of your brows. There were deep sapphires and obsidian placed in all the right places. Once it was clipped in, You rose with a soft smile touching your lips, "Thank you." "Five minutes!" A random staff member called. Your purple gaze glanced around the room, "Sayuri (Venus) and Suelin (Mazu) where are you?" Authority deepened your voice. The two missing goddesses rushed into the tent. They exchanged an odd look with Hea-Soo (Song-I). "Please." You motioned for everyone to come to the middle of the tent. "Even staff." Your black gladiator sandals walked to the center of the forming crowd. You couldn’t help rolling her eyes at Hea-Soo (song-i) and a few staff members who stayed where they were. "I want to thank you all so much for your time and energy. Goddess wouldn't exist without your determination, patience, and kindness. I will not let you down!" You called over the hum of excitement forming in the tent. Hea-soo (song-i) stood saying something under her breath and left. You arched a well manicured navy brow in suspicion. But the excitement of the tent spilled over you. "Fighting!" You wrapped your right arm around Mazu (Suelin) shoulders, who grabbed Venus's (Sayuri), who motioned for Eopsin (Minyoung). Eopsin (minyoung) came through the crowd to the center. She let Venus (sayuri) captured her with one arm while the other caught hold of your waist. You bowed forward, "Thank you." You whispered to your members. "Mazu remember to take a long breath on the second chorus." Mazu nodded. Your eyes moved to Venus, "Don't let Hae-soo steal your light." You tried to be firm, but causal. "She isn't our sun." "Two minutes!" You smiled to Eopsin, "Fighting?" "Fighting." They broke the circle with a loud fighting. You led the way out of the tent. The stylist team tweaked all of your costumes as Goddess approached the stage. Hae-soo fell into line at the last possible second. You narrowed your eyes on her. She was going to have to be put in her place. So Stupid, you thought annoyed.   JYP walked past Goddess with a nod of approval. Everyone bowed deeply. He stopped just in front of you. He took in your revealing costume with greedy eyes, "Ready?" He asked plainly. You rose from your bow and met his eyes, "We shall do our best." "Let's hope so." He commented dryly as he scaled the steps and found his mark on the stage. The spot light followed him to where he was standing, "Hello everyone," he smiled. The buzz of the crowd turned into a roar. You looked to Hae-Soo making sure she hadn't run off again. She was still there. "Oh...the sun is setting." JYP's voice took on an awed tone. What an actor, You thought sarcastically as he continued to introduce them. Eopsin, Hae-soo, Mazu then Venus flowed to the stage with a calmness that only experience offered. They spoke to Temple and the press. The staff ushered you to a platform under the stage that would spring you up and out from the darkest part. You were to land in the middle under a beam of purple light. The sun was just dipping under the Han river when a random staff member cued you. A smile took over your features while you crouched down. The mechanics let loose, jolting you up and out. You landed in a super hero stance a few centimeters from the edge of the stage as if the platform was wired to fling you into the crowd.

The crowd screamed with excitement.

You slowly rose to your full height. The purple beam rushed to light your silhouette. You tried to be un-faze, but your heart was suddenly sputtering from fear. "Who dare summon the Goddess of Night and Mother of the most gruesome Monsters?!" You yelled in Hangul to the crowd and whipped around to your fellow members. Venus was under a pink light and Hae-soo was under yellow. They both flinched back scared while Mazu under white stepped forward, "Sister," she slightly bowed, "we summoned you." The other Goddesses followed suit. "Why?" you growled low into your mic. Eopsin's red beam of light shifted as she rose from her bow with a sad expression, "We need you. We need guidance and protection." She stepped forward. "We lost Hera." Venus offered remembering her line. Venus refused to look at you. You walked towards Hae-Soo and stopped just before your beam of light touched Hers. You cocked your head to the side. "A Goddess of the Sun, of Love, of Wealth, and a Queen of the Heavens."  You looked to all the Goddesses with little interest. You turned to the crowd and slowly strolled to the spot where you were supposed to land. "Shall I aid them?" You asked sincerely. "Do they deserve my protection?" You crouched down towards the crowd whispering into your mic. You looked over your shoulder suspiciously to the Goddesses. Temple was cheering yes. ”They do...?" You asked doubtful. Your eyes moved back to the crowd, "What of my Guidance? Do they deserve it?" Temple screamed yes. "As you wish my Temple." You said reluctantly and with such disdain. The music was cued. The five beams of light shot out to the crowd. They landed on random Temples expect Yours. Yours was bulls eyed on JB’s chest who was of course at the back. Luckily the beams were scattered so it didn't look like yours was too deliberate. The stage lights were switched off. You slowly stood up. The other Goddesses exited the stage the way they had entered. The lights were flicked back to life. To an empty stage besides you. You walked to the edge of the stage and did a front flip off. You landed just in front of the barrier. Temple gasped and awed at your little trick. You hopped over the metal barrier with four body guard in tow. They were dress as monsters with gore prostatic and black cloaks covering their clothes. The crowd gladly parted for you, the other Goddess's and their guards on their way to their randomly picked Temples.

[avaliveradio]

Alma Dogma Brings the Listener Inspiring Freedoms of Summer on New Single Alpha

Artist: Alma Dogma

New Release: Alpha

Genre: Americana, Dream Pop, Indie Rock, Alt Rock, Bedroom Pop, Indie Pop

Sounds like: : (Sandy) Alex G, Pavement, The Anniversary, Wilco, Brand New, Pinegrove, Mitski, Phoebe Bridgers and The National.

Located in: : Washington D.C.

I recorded “Alpha” in the countryside of Maryland. The stay at home order for COVID-19 had just been implemented. I locked myself in a cottage, with all my gear and hit record. “Alpha” was written during a personal pandemic in my life. To record the track during a worldwide pandemic only felt right. The opening lyric to “Alpha” still gets me teary eyed - “You don’t have to worry about a thing I got a plan in my pocket it’s called you and me.”

This lyric is a tip of the hat to “Three Little Birds,” a song that I could say was a soundtrack to my childhood. My Dad loved Bob Marley and I grew to admire and treasure his music. Just like Bob Marley’s message of hope, I wanted “Alpha” to bring hope to the uncertainty, fear and panic people were experiencing from this pandemic. The sounds of the track were intentionally meant to replicate the times we are all living in. The guitars are somewhat ambiguous - they are not clean nor completely distorted.

The synths play a catchy-pop based melody but are noisy and at times eerie. The vocals are inviting you to sing along but also challenging you to run towards your fears. Inspired by the first letter of the Greek alphabet - this track “Alpha” is about new beginnings. You can’t make this stuff up, I wrote this song after leaving a cult. This was my personal pandemic. Upon exit I learned that I had been running from my fears instead of facing them head on. I wrote this to recant the idea of never doing what I loved. In many ways “Alpha” is the title track of my upcoming EP “Almost Almost.”

The song “Alpha” questions what if you could get rid of the idea of almost doing what you love? What if you lived uninhibited and without hesitation? Writing this song was an act of wearing my heart on my sleeve and now I’m invited everyone who listens to do the same.

The music we are creating is... There are two big influences for me - artists and friends. Sometimes they are on in the same. 

In high school, I was introduced to bands like Radiohead, Wilco, Bon Iver and Arcade Fire. I delved into the indie music world and never could get out of it. Recently I revisited Radiohead’s classic album “In Rainbows.” Each listen feels like I discover a novel nuance. How can an album simultaneously have so much space yet have so many layers happening all at once? I recently watched a video called “Old man listens to Ok Computer for the first time.” At the beginning of the listen he warns the YouTube viewer that he may not like Radiohead.

Three songs in he is crying. It’s artists like Radiohead that inspire me to make music that moves people at their core. I still want to be Jeff Tweedy; a master of singing the right lyric at the right time. I still laugh when I hear the first line of “Via Chicago” - “I dreamed about killing you again last night and it felt alright to me.” It’s those one liners that motivate me to write lyrics that say a message in an iconic way.

Bon Iver, in my opinion, delivers and packages music in ways that few others can. Justin Vernon knows that he can sing any lyric and fans will love it - solely because the feel of the song resonates on a transcendent level. The last example I want to point mention is Arcade Fire. Their first album “Funeral” hits me in a special way. Arcade Fire captures what it means to have beautiful chaos.

When I hear their music I want to write song that are raw, real and aren’t afraid to be messy. 

Also some of the biggest influences in my life are the people I do life with. I write songs in one sense for me but I also write for my friends. When they don’t like my music I don’t like it either. Sometimes when I write I think “would my close friends dig this?” My music is very similar to my message - I want to invite people to wear their heart on their sleeves, to be an open book, to be read and also be willing to learn from a different perspective.

Right now we are... Alma Dogma is excited to have released single "Alpha" available on all platforms. You can find the music video on YouTube. Alma Dogma is preparing to drop his next single Pessimistic on August 18.

About the Artist… The project of Alma Dogma has been around for 2 years. But for the duration of my life, I’ve had the itch to immerse myself in music. My family’s culture is deeply rooted in performing, creating and especially listening to music. At the age of 12 I received the best Christmas gift ever - a guitar. Since then I haven’t been able to put it down. Even now, there’s a guitar within my six foot circle. I tell people that the desire for writing and performing won’t go away. It took me about a decade to write a song that I was happy with. I still have moments where I can’t stand the songs I write. In the last few years I have learned to not only embrace the calling of an artist but to put my energy into creating music that will resonate with people. Parsed out, Alma Dogma roughly translates “the truth that mothers and cares for your soul.” That’s my goal to create music that is honest enough to reach people at their core. Look for my first EP “Almost Almost” to drop later this summer.

LINKS:  almadogma.com https://open.spotify.com/track/1jvAOcNbIkONFZ0sevfCQ7?si=xH48n1CwQEKcmdwG8tXdEA http://twitter.com/almadogma https://www.facebook.com/pages/category/Musician-Band/Alma-Dogma-100819848117331 https://www.instagram.com/almadogma

REVIEWS:

Jacqueline Jax Wrote:

“Alpha by Alma Dogma has a very unusual vocal delivery that at first takes you off guard but 3:04 you’ll find yourself dreaming about a sun kissed drive on Florida’s dreamy AIA. He brings that fresh Summer feel to your ears with deep reverts and a layered chorus sprinkled with some effective synths. It’s really an ear candy single for Summer. “

[ifeveristoday]

you are the vessel and she’s the life

Okay. When I first read issue #3, I did not like it. The art continues to be amazing, the colors glorious and they add to the atmosphere of the Hellmouth world - but I felt at first read, this was a weaker installment for the non-movement of the plot. If Hellmouth was a longer arc, I would have less issues because Jordie & Jeremy are developing Buffy and Angel, and giving the space for the audience to learn more about them, just as other characters are being brought into the spotlight for the namesake comics. I want to learn more about Kendra, Jenny, Fred, Gunn, et al. But it’s also a valid criticism that Buffy was missing from her story, long before Hellmouth began.

To compare Buffy (the intellectual property) to another cultural juggernaut for a minute - Star Wars. The reboots, the prequels, the ever-expanding universe - it’s all Star Wars, no matter what fans may feel about certain portions of it. But I see a lot of the same argument leveled at the Boom!verse that I do about Star Wars - ‘it doesn’t feel like ________________’, or  ‘that’s not my Buffy.’ I’ve certainly done my fair share of completely ignoring/complaining about the Dark Horse ‘canonically approved’ verse, so I get it. And I think just by the nature of a reboot, there are so many expectations, especially when you use the same characters. And IMO, Jordie and co. have been doing an admirable job of balancing their version of Sunnydale vs. memories/nostalgia of the TV canon. 

The point is to remake something for a new audience while respecting the source for the ‘original’ (whatever that means) fans. And it’s such a rich world with many characters to play with, and lots of different ways to explore themes that the show didn’t, or botched/dismissed. It’s a daunting experience to adapt, I’m sure - and I’ve been enjoying reading what Jordie has been doing with character development and the emotional beats of a story. The characters do feel like they exist in 2019.

However, with this issue, I felt like there was retread/not enough of a building on the momentum that Issues 1 and 2 had, along with a last-minute feel of a brand new original character, and some in-jokes that didn’t really add anything. This was my first reaction. Then I read it again, and with the other Hellmouth issues.

Major spoilers underneath the cut.

Back to my earlier point about Buffy being missing from her story - we still don’t know very much about Buffy’s backstory but that was never the point of her character, she was always very much in the now. The earlier issues had her in full Slayer mode with little intervals of an awkward, uncertain teenager! Buffy, and the last time she gets to hang out and do teenager things, Xander gets turned. And we didn’t really see the fallout in terms of Buffy’s feelings about it - but we did get very much appreciated insight into Willow and Xander’s characters. 

Then Buffy flings herself into the Hellmouth, after feeling estranged from Willow and dealing with a lot of unspoken guilt/shame. Oh no, not like TV Canon Buffy at all. 

However, the break from the Scoobies and entering the Hellmouth brought out Buffy Summers in all her confused, messy, intense bravery. Here was the girl who quipped malapropisms, made up sassy nicknames and leaped into the fray, fists first. And here was the girl who’s self-aware that her impetuousness and desire to save people also hurts the people she loves because she pushes them away - both out of necessity and because it’s her job. It’s a common refrain throughout the run of the series, emphasized by Giles and repeated by Buffy - she has to do this, and often alone - she’s the first responder in the apocalypse.

Heroine complex, man.

And then she meets LA’s finest, the dark knight, Mr. Hunchy Shoulders Guy - Angel. I’ve said it before, Bryan Edward Hill’s decision to have Angel meet Buffy cold, with an already established backstory of his own and then Jordie carrying that over into the Hellmouth event really changes the Buffy and Angel dynamic in the Boom!verse. A welcome change, and then when the portents/prophecies kick in, Angel dismisses them completely. His no-nonsense, I’m just here to do a job and then I’m out mode is amusing to me, because obviously, this is going to end up in romantic comedy land, just with a higher body count and lots of blood.

Buffy and Angel in TV canon never really got that light-hearted, getting-to-know-you phase because there was always the pall of forbidden love/gothic angst/and willful misunderstandings on both parties, never mind the interference/concerns and complaints from the people who loved them.

In Hellmouth, not only do Buffy and Angel get developed as characters, so does their budding ‘work’ friends relationship. Their banter is just delightful to read, and they get to be vulnerable/honest (to a point) with each other, that they haven’t been able to do so with their respective friends. And as they’re fighting demons and tracking down Drusilla, it creates an understandably sudden bond that most likely wouldn’t have happened above ground. They’re the only ones who can stop the forces of evil and cover each other’s backs.

Except for the undead elephant in the room, that has been in the room since Angel first appeared in Sunnydale -

Angel is a vampire. Angel witnessed Drusilla attacking Xander -- and did nothing to stop it.

And he knew it was Drusilla and Spike.

That lie comes back to majorly haunt his ass in Issue #3. Drusilla gleefully tells Buffy that he saw the whole thing, and also he has this whole other name, Angelus, which Buffy completely mishears and then rounds on Angel, asking him pointedly if they need a moment, or can she do the job she’s here for.

The revelation that Angel didn’t stop Xander’s turning naturally pings Buffy’s anger defenses and she tells him actually, no, we’re not friends, you don’t know me (even though I vented my guts out to you and you know I’m a slayer and you give weird pep talks to try to make me feel better -- Issues 1 & 2) - and I think besides the fact that Angel stood by and did nothing, it’s also that he didn’t tell her. Angel not telling Buffy important things, lying by omission basically, breaks their fragile alliance. 

But it’s not until the second lie.

Something that has been driving me nuts since the first issue is that Angel hasn’t revealed his Vampire self to Buffy. There’s different levels to the relationships Angel has cultivated so far in the Boom!verse - with Fred and Gunn, he’s an ally (reluctant on Gunn’s part) and a friend (Fred) and he’s upfront with them that he’s a vampire. But with Buffy, who is going to be a major part of his life (if any of the previous portents and prophecies are to go by), he holds off/and hides his vampire self. And the question is why? Buffy already has a friend who has a Vampire side, but Xander’s a special case because he can still pass as human. 

And it’s humanity that pops up in this issue - I knew it was coming, due to Boom’s wildly spoilery summaries/previews, but the way it was delivered?

Auggie - I know he has a full demon name but I’m not typing it out - and I think his name is also derived from Augury which means an omen/sign of what will happen in the future, seemed out of place to me. I mean, okay having a hell hut in the middle of the Hellmouth is whimsical and not completely out of the realm of the Buffyverse tone, and demons just trying to demon with no ambition to destroy the world is always nice to see - I just felt the introduction of him was too McGuffiny. There already was a figure who could see into the future (two of them, if you count Fee Fee from Angel’s first issue, except she disappeared into the plot hole where women characters go in that issue) and the initial one who set Angel on this path: Lilith. 

Having Angel strike up a random conversation with an essentially magic demon eight ball when he could have been searching for Buffy or Drusilla felt like an unwelcome departure from the main story. Yes, the revelation that Angel could achieve humanity through some terrible ritual is important, but also - do you believe a demon who’s making a stew out of unidentifiable parts in the middle of the Hellmouth and just casually drops that information? 

Read the room, Angel. It’s probably a trap.

Back to the A-story, Buffy thinks the Cthulu shape-shifter demon is back when she sees the vision of the guys in her life attacking the women - Giles and Jenny, Eric and Joyce, and Xander and Willow.Just as the Demon Joyce taunted her about her absence causing more havoc than help, the Demon men call her out Greek Chorus style - Giles says, “Sunnydale burns, Sacrifice.” Xander tells her, “But we can stop all this. The mother awaits you.”Eric says, “Come. End this suffering.”

Buffy accuses Dru of orchestrating this, and she laughs and tells her, “This is the hellmouth. Adapt, won’t you? It’s adapted to you....these are your people. This your nightmare.”

Buffy denies it coming true, and Dru tells her that it may yet come true - and she’s left Sunnydale defenseless. A slayer without her friends. There are fouler things than beasts, above. There are men.

Who have become the puppets of the unseen Hellmother.

So Drusilla was a red herring, a pawn in the game of Evil Chess. And this bums me out because Dru as a tangible villain/opponent is more interesting to me than another shadowy doom voice from the ether. Hellmother? Really?

This is where the reboot kind of loses me - Buffy’s greatest villains have been the ones who were personal to her, not as in just wanting to kill her, but an active part of her life. Dru (and by extension, Spike) in the Boom!verse would qualify because of what she did to Xander and threatening her mother. Dru being the front of a disembodied voice (that probably will take form in the next two issues) is a letdown. It’s the First Evil again.

The side effect of the men being turned into malevolent goons - okay, that is scary, but are we talking the Pack/Billy scary? (aka not very good episodes of either show because they either pulled punches or handwaved consequences)

Buffy teams up with Drusilla, which was unexpected, but at this point in the game, Buffy doesn’t have that many options. Her friend is missing (and it’s telling that even though she was hurt by the knowledge Angel did nothing to prevent Xander’s turning, she still refers to him as a friend to Drusilla. It might not be true forgiveness, but she was willing to move on, just for the sake of finding him and working to stop this mess.) And she keeps on reminding herself, these demons are not her friends, and are not real.

Which brings us to the final act - in more ways than one. Angel gets ambushed by a bunch of orc looking vampires, and finally goes Not Today, Satan on them.

And of course Buffy spots him on a mound of corpses, in full vamp face.

As much as I’m disappointed with the way Angel’s vampirism is revealed, it had to happen, and I have to admit, those last pages and panels are incredibly vivid and affecting.

Angel’s outstretched human hands covered in blood?

Buffy’s disbelief and then hardened look of disgust and her, “Don’t touch me.”

Goddammit.

Jordie and Jeremy have specific repetitions that I find interesting in terms of character development and where I think the plot is going -

Friends - the potential loss of them, the making of them, who to trust and how personal actions always have a consequence in relation to friends - Buffy is down on herself because she pushes people away and tried to lone wolf and it always, always blows up in her face, so this new thing with Angel is Buffy trying something new - trusting the other person so she can trust herself (because even though Willow and Xander are helpful and her besties, Buffy still can’t fully trust them with the fighting of evil because of her Slayer nature and belief that it’s her sole responsibility. She’s never had friends like that before. Angel has an equivalent strength to hers and already knows the evil game.)

So this issue blowing up all those tentative friend bridges? 

Fucking painful. Because now it feels like Buffy was right - she can’t trust Angel, he’s not a friend, because why would he lie? Why didn’t he stop Drusilla? They clearly have a history. Has he been in on this from the beginning?

Buffy is alone, again.

And Angel? Who the fuck knows. Buffy has become important to him in a short amount of time, and it still needs to be addressed why he did nothing to save Xander. He was already on the saving gig, and was it because he knew Spike and Dru that he let it pass out of...familial bonds?  That still doesn’t jibe with what he’s atoning for now. 

As always, thanks to @jenny-calendar for being there for me to figure out all these fiddly parts. I still think this is the weakest issue of Hellmouth, and I’m not as confident as I was before in thinking it’ll be wrapped up neatly in the last two issues - but I hope this doesn’t signal the end of crossovers, and that the relationship wherever it goes, continues to develop over both of their lines. But I dislike it less on reread.

And Buffy better make an appearance in Ring of Fire, damn it.

AND WHERE IS CAMAZOTZ?

[drsilverfish]

The Riddle of the Sphinx: 14x12 Prophet and Loss

First, thanks to @verobatto-angelxhunter  @gneisscastiel @magnificent-winged-beast @emblue-sparks  @mrsaquaman187  for inviting me to guest this week, as part of their ongoing SPN #Metafest project @metafest  

along with several other guests:  @bluephoenixrises  @poorreputation @agusvedder @amwritingmeta   @savannadarkbaby @prairiedust  and

@norahastuff 

I’m going to guest meta about the Riddle of the Sphinx.

Here is creepy Tony Alvarez drowning his first victim. 

Despite an opening dose of Bucklemming torture-porn (ugh - although tbf there was a narrative point, as the drowned girl was a mirror for Dean, just like the slain first-born son and the dude who almost got barbecued were - more on that later...)... So, yeah, despite that, I was thrilled to see this in the visual narrative architecture - the Sphinx Machine Shop, where Tony does his mangled prophecy induced killing.

The Sphinx, as you know, is a fearsome part-woman, part winged-lion beastie, in Greek mythology, who was famous for guarding the entrance to Thebes and asking travellers to solve the answer to a riddle in order to gain safe passage to the city. If they failed, she devoured them.

She is tied in mythology not just to puzzles and their solutions, but to fate...

Here is the Sphynx of Naxos, from the Temple of Apollo at Delphi (560 BCE)

Image from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sphinx_of_Naxos 

The Temple of Delphi was the site of the Oracle of Delphi, who was the High Priestess Pythia (a transferrable role) famous for her prophesies, which came to her in trance-states, supposedly from the God Apollo.

You see the link to SPN’s own Prophet role here.... 

The Sphinx also, famously, appears in Sophocles’ play Oedipus Rex, which became the basis for Freud’s also famous (and relevant a bit later) “Oedipus complex”. Sophocles didn’t invent the myth, but his telling is its most famous rendition. 

Despite his other misfortunes, Oedipus doesn’t get devoured by the Sphinx, because he solves her riddle, a popular rendition of which is: 

“What goes on four legs, on two legs, on three, and the more legs it goes on, the weaker it be?” 

The answer, is - a human (baby, adult, old person with a stick).

Oedipus’ story is a classic story about fate, just like Appointment in Samara (re-worked in an SPN episode, 6x11, but originally an old Mesopotamian tale) which @mittensmorgul  and I were talking about just recently, in relation to themes of fate vs free will in SPN (specifically in relation to the role played by Death - see here for the discussion:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182454009599/mittensmorgul-drsilverfish-mittensmorgul  )

Oedipus’ story is a (f-d up) family drama - rather relevant to our very own Family Winchester [no, NOT because this is all about either of the boys wanting to sleep with Mary Winchester - thanks Dr. Freud - although, come to think of it, Dean did say she was hot in 4x03 In The Beginning :-)]  

14x13 Lebanon promo shot 

When baby Oedipus is born, his father King Laius receives a prophecy that his son will grow up to kill him, and so, he sends a shepherd to expose the baby on the mountainside to die, before that can happen. The shepherd however, not being an asshole, saves the baby, and raises him secretly as his own.  

Oedipus grows up, and he eventually learns from the Oracle at Delphi herself (see above) that he is fated to kill his father and marry his mother. Believing the shepherd and his wife are his true mother and father, whom he loves, he leaves his home in the mountains for the city of Thebes, determined to defy the prophecy.

On the way, he meets a quarrelsome old man on the road, they fight, and Oedipus kills him:

When he gets to Thebes, he finds the King has been slain, by persons unknown, and the town is at the mercy of the Sphinx. Oedipus, by guessing the Sphinx’s riddle, obtains safety for the town and is, in gratitude, appointed King himself and given the widowed Queen, Jocasta’s, hand in marriage.

All is well for a bit, until a plague descends on Thebes, and Oedipus is told that to save the city, he must avenge King Laius’ death. So, he goes sleuthing, with the extremely relucant help of his seer Tiresius, and to his horror, discovers that he is the one who killed the King (that old dude on the road to Thebes all those years ago), that he is the King’s true son, and has, therefore, killed his father and, in marrying Queen Jocasta, married his mother and committed incest, fulfilling the prophecy he set out to escape from. He promptly blinds himself in horror. Poor ancient Greek dude. 

The Chorus laments the power of fate

O heavy hand of fate!          Who now more desolate, Whose tale more sad than thine, whose lot more dire?          O Oedipus, discrowned head,          Thy cradle was thy marriage bed;

http://www.gutenberg.org/files/31/31-h/31-h.htm  - Project Gutenberg translation of Oedipus Rex. 

A reference to the story of Oedipus and the Sphinx is extremely pregnant right now in the SPN narrative, for two reasons:

1) Fate vs Free Will

2) The Ghost of John Winchester

1) Fate vs Free Will

Dean thinks his interpretation of the book Billie handed him in 14x10 Nihilism - apparently the only death of his in which AU!Michael doesn’t take over his meat-suit and burn the world - means he has to sink himself to the bottom of the ocean, in the Ma’lak (angel) box and that’s “fate”. 

Like Oedipus, there is no escape. 

However, 14x12 tells us two things. Firstly, by analogy - the prophecy is wrong. Alvarez thinks he is carrying out the prophetic Word of God TM by recreating a twisted version of the Plagues of Egypt sent by God in Exodus:

1) The slaughter of a first-born son

2) Drowning in the Red Sea

3) Fire out of Heaven

(all of which are mirrors for what Dean thinks is his “fate” right now: death of a first born son; being drowned forever at the bottom of the ocean in the Ma’lak box; being consumed by the AU Archangel Michael’s Heavenly grace/fire).

But it’s a garbled message, received as a result of Prophet Donatello’s comatose scramblings. 

Secondly, screw prophecy - against the odds, Dr. Sexy of the Lord (yeah - you know Dean thought it) is able to revive Donatello, thus preventing further scramblings (aka wrong prophesies). 

CASTIEL: “Dean - if there is a spark, a hope, then I have to try.... you taught me that!” 

I loved that line, with its resonance all the way back, like a skein of blue grace, to the Apocalypse Mark One, when Dean convinced Castiel, in Zacharia’s (also due to return in 14x13 Lebanon) “green room” in 4x22 Lucifer Rising, to disobey Heaven for the sake of humanity (Yes, Dean, an angel did fall for you...). 

In other words, just as the Winchesters beat their “fate” to be “angel condoms” for Michael and Lucifer last time around, by “tearing up the script” and “making it up as they go” (4x22 Lucifer Rising) thanks to the help of rebel angel Castiel, so they can do so again.   

2) The Ghost of John Winchester

In the SPN world’s worst kept spoiler, we know John will return next week in 14x13 Lebanon. We’ve been meta’ing about the ghost of John Winchester haunting the SPN narrative for... forever.  

Here is some meta of mine on the subject from S12:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/158388550099/john-winchesters-ghost-and-the-haunting-of-s12 

John is explicitly recalled, during the brothers’ (beautifully rendered) car conversation in 14x12:

DEAN: “You ever think about when we were kids?”

SAM: “Maybe, yeah, sure, sometimes, why?”

DEAN: “I know I wasn’t always the greatest brother to you.”

SAM: “Dean, you were the one who was always there for me. The only one. I mean, you practically raised me.”

DEAN: “I know things got dicey, you know with Dad, the way he was... and I just.... I didn’t always look out for you the way that I should of. I mean, I had my own stuff, y’know, and in order to keep the peace, it probably looked like I took his side quite a bit. Sometimes, when I was away, you know it wasn’t cos I just ran out, right? Dad would, he would send me away, when I really pissed him off. I think you knew that.”

SAM: “Man I left that behind a long time ago, I had to.”  

AU!Michael, I’ve been arguing since the start of the season, is a mirror for Dean’s self-repression and for John Winchester. See:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/179463975289/shirtlesssammy-14x03the-scar-meta-writers

John was one of the major causes of Dean’s self-repression, as illustrated in the convo above, where it’s clear Dean had to grow up too fast to become a substitute-parent to Sam, where he was often obedient to their father to “keep the peace”, and where he was also often, unreasonably, punished by his father in the process (such as, as we already know, when he was sent to Sonny’s after stealing food for Sam in 9x07 Bad Boys). 

According to psychoanalysis, we always internalise psychological constructs of our parents - Freud calls them imagos. So the Riddle of the Sphinx, for Dean, is how to kill (or rather, lay to rest) the ghost of his father (whom AU! Michael is a mirror for) and with it, the self-repression which has wounded him so much, psychically, since childhood, without letting it kill him too.  

Nick, of course (general shudder) also serves as a John Winchester mirror in the episode - his obsessive revenge quest for the slaughter of his wife (aka mirror Mary Winchester) by Abraxas, led to something she never wanted - damage to innocents along the way (aka mirror innocents, Sam and Dean). 

To Conclude

The answer to the Sphinx’s riddle, the one that helped Oedipus avoid being devoured by her was.... humanity.

Light Sphinx, 2015-2016, Mixed media (inc. foam, hand stitched fabrics, LEDs, beads, synthetic hair), 74 x 32 x 54 cm by Tarryn Gill

https://tarryngill.com/Light-Sphinx-Shadow-Sphinx-2015-16 

Dean IS the symbolic representation of humanity (which is why Amara was so fascinated by him, and let’s not forget Metatron’s words about Castiel in 9x22 Stairway to Heaven  - “He’s in love with.... humanity”).  

Our first-born Winchester son just has to believe what this episode showed him -  prophecy can be wrong.

His “fate” - to die, to drown forever, to be consumed by holy grace/fire, to remain trapped by the ghost of his father, by his own self-repression, by AU!Michael, by the Ma’lak box (aka, in subtext, the closet) is NOT the “Word of God”.

And killing one’s father doesn’t (as it did for Oedipus) have to mean damnation, if, the way one does it, is symbolically, by laying his ghost to rest in one’s heart and mind (hello upcoming SPN 300 14x13 Lebanon).

Freud believed the resolution of the Oedipus complex (for boys) was identification with the father (and no, we don’t have to concur with Dr. Freud). Dean has actually been on an oppositve journey, to get out from under his father’s shadow.   

The Jungian solution, which the S14 narrative is offering to the metaphorical Riddle of the Sphinx, is, to turn around and embrace the Shadow-self (the parts of oneself one has repressed) and in so doing, to evolve - to become more fully human.

So, a final salute to Jerry Wanek and team, and the ever wonderful SPN set dressing narrative, for The Sphinx Machine shop!

NB:

You can read my Jungian Meta series here, if you’re interested:

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/180906003584/the-shadow-14x08

http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/181122764984/14x09-the-spear-jungian-decoder-ring-edition

 http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/post/182299438269/jung-and-deans-journey-towards-self-integration

And if, you want to read more of my SPN meta in general, go visit my blog and look under the “Meta” sidebar tag: http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/tagged/Meta 

Plus, if you want to read lots of other people’s fabulous SPN meta, go check out the “SPN Meta” sidebar tag: http://drsilverfish.tumblr.com/tagged/SPN%20Meta 

Thanks for having me @metafest !

DrSphinx out.  

[abthepoet]

All my friends are dead.

Something strange is trending in my life.

All my friends die.

At the beginning of my sophmore year in college, my roommate from freshman year died tragically in a single vehicle car crash. Her name was Allison Lynam. We called her Blake. She was sassy and funny and I wish I would've taken more time to know her.

The rain was torrential the night she died. I swear I've never seen it rain that hard ever again in my life. She drove to the store along Highway 36 in Long Branch,NJ. She had off campus housing that year and had to use the highway often. The road was terribly flooded the night she died. Im told she hydroplaned, spun, and T-boned the driver side smack into an electrical pole. Her family still decorates it.

At that very same moment, in my dorm room nearby, I was watching TV when the lights suddenly flickered and dimmed. A brown out.

I had no idea but that was my friend crashing into a pole and dying. She was 19 years old.

I know this because that accident happened near the mall. That accident killed the power to nearby businesses.

I later found out that the road she died on was so badly flooded, the police intended to close it. Why they didnt get to it in time, I'll never know. Maybe that's fate.

Then there was Jessica Blain. Jessica Blain was a firecracker of a human being. She was 100% unmistakable. One of the loudest, funniest, most loyal people and friends I have ever met. She was also an incredibly gifted singer and I was lucky enough to have Chorus with her. We, along with a small group of friends, founded a new greek organization on our campus, Alpha Xi Delta. We were paired up as Twins. (you can't have Bigs & Littles when you're just starting the Family Tree). We named the family we formed Fuck Up Your Shit. Because that's what we'd do for a friend. I miss her laugh most of all. It was loud and unapologetic. She was there for me, supportive, and encouraging without me ever having to ask. The night I officially finished college we all went out to the local gay club, The Colosseum. I got wasted, of course. But Jess was the person who when I shouted 'I have to pee' on the ride home, she stopped and knocked on strangers doors and asked to let me use their bathrooms. Nobody said yes so she held my hand while I peed on a fence instead. I remember the last time we spoke. She was at a concert with a mutual friend. We hadn't spoken much since I graduated, she was still in school.

She died in her dorm room bed on Halloween as a result of asphyxiation during an epileptic seizure. She was 20 years old. The news was broken to me that very same Halloween night as I floated along in NY on a concert cruise. The World/Inferno Friendship Society decided to host Hallowmas, their annual event, on a boat this year. Nothing like being trapped on a musical boat while you grieve. I had messaged her AIM late that night to say hi. She had an away message up. I may have sent a message to a dead person. I miss her friendship more than I realize sometimes.

That brings us to James Padden. James was a warm, snuggly bear of a guy who always tried to do the right thing and let me steal his hoodies. He insantly became my best friend in a Stepbrothers-esque manner. I met James working overnights at Wawa in Leonardo, NJ. I forget how it started now, but we were standing in front of the deli and I think I tossed him a broom or he already had one. . . I cant remember now.. . . but he just took one look at me with that mischievous little twinkle that I quickly returned and we instantly began sword fighting with our brooms. Like two little boys playing pretend and having a ball. He was sweet and silly and kind. I needed a ride, and he loved to drive. Our first winter as friends, we went out doing donuts in the snow. I barely knew him, but I felt safe. We smoked a ton of weed and had so many adventures trying to procure more. One time, we got so high driving to a Dropkick Murphys concert in NY we kept going in circles, missed almost the entire show save for the last 3-5 numbers, and had a blast. I can barely remember the night, but I remember laughing hard in that car. No one could talk to me like James. We were both insecure being chubby kids and adults, but so charismatic and grandiose that I sometimes thought we were the only two who would put up with listening to each others wild ideas and ridiculous banter. We would smoke joints and take adderall and talk about everything and anything. I miss the safety and closeness I felt with him. We were always 100% platonic, but we could nap together, I could walk into his house and jump on him in bed and wake him up. Then we would cook ourselves a breakfast feast and hit the beach. He taught me to always take the back roads. I gave him advice on the ladies. He taught me about fixing cars. I helped shave his back. He called his new pick up truck, a pick'um up truck. We could wax philosophical all damn day and not get sick of each other.

It wasnt just driving he loved, it was going fast. Like so many young white men, he had tendency to be a little reckless. The universe gave him a pass only so many times.

I'll never forget when he got his motorcycle. It was the last time I saw him. It was a bright green crotch rocket. He loved lime green. I was doing yoga in the living room when I heard this obnoxious engine rev down my street. I asked myself, who the hell is making this noise?! And it was James, grinning from ear to ear with a matching helmet on his shiny new toy.

before he left I said, 'you die on that thing, I'll bring you back to life and kill you." I remember giving him this very long and intentional hug and not knowing why I felt compelled to hang on.

When he left and hopped back on the bike, I felt compelled again and took a video of him riding away from my driveway until he was entirely out of sight.

That's my very last memory of him alive. James Padden died on Thanksgiving five days after his 25th birthday. He went out for a joyride on his bike before dinner, opened up to 100mph around a curve where he couldn't see a car pulling out around the bend in time. They called a medevac, but he died on scene. I loved James dearly and I regret drifting apart after we both left Wawa and I started a new relationship. He had stuff too, but in hindsight it never seems important.

Then there's JB. I will always remember JB for his kindness and generosity. The very first time I finally worked up the nerve to go to a poetry slam, I was alone and terrified. I had no idea what to expect. JB was the very first person to turn around, introduce himself, and welcome me. He made me feel like I belonged. Years later, when I won the title of Grand Slam Champion, he immediately offered to help coach me for national competition. Except, I didn't see the messages and left them unanswered, which I deeply regret. When I started hosting my own open mic a few years after that, JB would be one of the only people to consistently come support the show both as an audience member and participant. It was at a pizza joint and he would sometimes buy me food when I had no money. He wrote beautiful poems about his two young daughters and how much they inspired him. JB always tried to make people laugh but you could tell he carried a sadness. I did not get details, but from what I have gathered he made a choice to end his life. I wish I would have gotten closer to him and appreciated him more as a friend and person. I wonder if he felt no one cared about him and I feel like I should've let him know more.

Which brings us to Crys. Crystopher Anthony Diaz was a Scorpio with a big heart and a big personality. I met him on Myspace back in the day and started Web camming. We became friends and eventually fell into this gray area of friends, together, but not. It wasn't long before I was spending days at his place, killing hours at a time downloading music, making Wawa runs, and smoking weed with his roommate at the time, Syd. You know, the whole reason I worked at Wawa was Crys suggesting it. And Wawa is the reason I met James. Crys was unlike anyone I'd ever met. He was poetic and artistic and loved animals, especially pit bulls. He loved to draw and write and had this very out loud style that favored Earth tones. He taught me about fashion and insisted on getting dressed even if it was 1am and we were just going to Wawa because you never know who you might see. We would buy new clothes at Walmart and have photo shoots. That boy drank his weight in coffee daily. If it's one thing I'll always remember him for, it's the dancing. Dancing was a passion of his and always used to talk about wanting to form a dance crew. Eventually, we ended up living together for four years. My first apartment was with him in this piece of shit duplex rented to us by a slumlord in Keansburg,NJ. My relationship with him was always defined by our Aries/Scorpio dynamic and he never let me forget it. His birthday was October 30th, mischief night. One time, after we had moved into a new place, we decided to get revenge on our old downstairs neighbor by taking a finished lobster carcass and throwing it on his lawn. . . . . . . Keansburg had a terrible stray cat problem. 😁

I have so many memories with Crystopher. Unfortunately, towards the end of our relationship things became too tumultuous. We had too much unresolved baggage and trauma to find a healthy place emotionally together. We were so financially strained for a time we hardly ate. And then when he met his new girlfriend Laura, she introduced him to her good friend, Roxy. As in Roxcicet. aka Blues. Neither of us knew what that even was at the time. But he sure learned quick. He started using them pretty frequently as time went on, and things only got more complicated. My mental health took a nose dive. By the time I moved out our relationship was trash. I basically left. At the time, I didnt have a choice. things had gotten so bad between us, the money, the using . . . we didn't act like friends anymore.

I saw him a couple times at his new place but that was years ago. Since then, he went through a lot, including homelessness and more struggles with addiction to opiates. He reached out to me and sent me a message apologizing for everything a couple years back. I never responded. I was afraid I would let him back into my life and let the all the problems back in. I didnt trust where he was at in his life. We lost touch and stopped speaking.

His ex, who used to live with us and became my friend, messaged me and told me he died a few days ago. He was 35. I'm still waiting for information, but it may have been drug related. I'm not even sure where I'm at with how I feel. I know why we stopped talking. It was the right thing to do at the time. But he didnt deserve to die so young, having spent the last god knows how many months homeless. It's fucking with me so hard because we never resolved anything. I loved this person so fucking much and we never made peace. Of everyone I've lost, he was the closest to me. I've had a lot of people die on me but none that I lived with and shared a life with. I have more memories with him than I can handle and while I know we hadn't spoken in years and why, I still wish I would've said something. Done something. Yes, i needed healthy boundaries but he needed somebody. when is being firm too firm? If we would've helped, could it have been different? But we didn't want to help at the time, you try to be tough and draw a line. Be firm. Not let yourself be taken advantage of. But is that a defense? Did that defensiveness leave a human being who's head i used to scratch until he fell asleep out in the cold to get sicker and die?

What am I supposed to learn from all this Universe? Why do you take my friends so young and so tragically? I'm only 35, I'm too young to have this much loss.

Because these are just the major players I've lost. It doesnt include my cousin Jared, who died being reckless on a motorcycle at 21 two years ago. I was 15 when he was born. I loved that baby, he used to bite my nose. But his family lived far, so I rarely saw him growing up. Last time I saw him was at my grandfather's funeral. He didn't remember me and the nose biting.

And then there's Marcos who we used to chill with. He worked delivery for our favorite chinese food place. He was a nice kid who lived with his grandparents. We would get food, smoke weed, hang out a little. Even used to buy it off him for a while. Eventually he got into the opiates too, he even wound up being good friends with Crys and being Blue buddies. But eventually Marcos died from an opiate overdose. He was in his mid twenties.

I didnt want to include Ricky because he was more of an acquaintance for me, he was more my partners childhood friend. But god damn, in the time I knew Ricky that kid was a riot. He was loud and funny and definitely marched to the beat of his own drum. Drugs took him too.

Thanks for reading all this if you've made it this far. It's taken me about two hours to type this out on my phone. but i needed to. Thanks for coming to my TedTalk

[suddenlysomewherethatsgreen]

Lets talk about the Little Shop Of Horrors Ending

I have been considering the two different endings to the story. Personally I prefer the Theatrical Ending of Little Shop Of Horrors. “The happy one”, when it comes down to it. It’s true I am a sucker for a happy ending, but that’s not the only reason why. For some time I’ve been pondering this. I have narrowed down my reasons for not liking the Directors Cut to these three reasons:

1: It does not fit the mood of the rest of the movie.

Little Shop Of Horrors is a dark comedy, it’s true. But the ending is just dark. Up until that point the movie has been silly with a plant singing for supper and a dentist goofing around. A family film. The ending then turned the tables completely. We see Audrey die in her lovers arms as she asks him to sacrifice her corpse. Then we see Seymour running to the top of the building to commit suicide (my biggest of all issue). There is nothing comedic about this. It changes the genre of the movie to a drama, and does not balance out with the silliness of the rest of the film. Where as in the theatrical cut we get laughs, like the fake “Suddenly Seymour reprise”. The plant blowing up is corny, yes, but at least it fits. My friends have argued that the happy ending was too forced but I disagree. Through the entire show we can see the story flowing toward this. Seymour repents, kills the plant, and marrys Audrey. It just continues the flow. Audrey’s death in the movie takes us completely off guard.

2: The movie made some changes from the play to make it much sadder.

Although the ending is parallel to the stage ending, the movie made some significant changes to the story to make heartbreaking as opposed to enjoyable. In the movie Seymour flat out asks Audrey to marry him, where as the play its somewhat of an open promise. She dies on the night of their planned wedding, so close to a happy ending. Seeing Audrey die in her wedding dress has a much sadder impact than a nightgown or a raincoat. I know she sings a “Somewhere That’s Green Reprise” in the play as well but don’t tell me you didn’t cry in the movie version. Seymour immediately takes off to kill himself. This is most definitely NOT in the play, and absolutely breaks our hearts to see. The play did not have “Mean Green Mother”. It works well in the theatrical ending where Audrey ii dies at the end and says “oh shit”, but in the directors cut it is just the plant mocking him and toying with him for several minutes before swallowing him alive. Seymour doesn’t even get his final moments of glory like in the play where he dies by jumping in the mouth to kill it. Instead he’s just entangled in vines completely helpless. In the play the show ends with the main characters popping out of fake flowers and the plant somewhat attacking the audience (depending on the version). This can be a humorous ending if done correctly. In the movie we just see several minutes of the plant attacking helpless people and destroying their homes with no hope. Only to leave us there thinking “Wait... what the hell?”

3: Audrey should not have died

Yes Audrey dies in the play too and I have a problem with that as well. Audrey does not die from her own sins or actions, but simply as a way of punishing Seymour. Killing the only female character (aside from the Greek chorus) that way is just not a good idea. Had it just been Seymour that dies and Audrey lived I would’ve been upset but I would’ve understood. It was at least for his own actions. Audrey was just to cause pain. She didn’t get her happy ending through absolutely no fault or doing of her own.

If anyone in the movie didn’t deserve to die it was Audrey. Before the show she’s being tortured physically by her boyfriend and emotionally for her love for Seymour that she can’t share because of how low she sees herself. She works two jobs to make a living, one of which she sells what she had left of her dignity just to get by. But Audrey never once fights. She never tells Orin off or fights with Twoey or even Seymour. She sits and takes all the pain given to her. We see her fantasy and how much love she had to give. She had a very big heart. And even in the end she wants to help in any way she can. She asks to be fed by to the plant so it can go on to make Seymour happy when she’s gone. Audrey herself never in her life got the chance to be happy. She deserved that green fantasy, she did not deserve to die.

There’s my reasons. I’d love to hear yours as well whether you agree or disagree.

[thesinglesjukebox]

ELENI FOUREIRA - FUEGO

[5.56]

It’s official (by 0.56 points): Cyprus should have won...

Alfred Soto: This Eurovision entry belongs in a Brickell Avenue club on Friday night, not a stage. [3]

Katie Gill: Is this discount Shakira? Absolutely. But sometimes all you want from a song is discount Shakira with typical Eurovision corny-ass lyrics: this offender is "you've got me pelican fly-fly-flying." And this is so much fun! That "ah yeah ah yeah" is perfectly patented sing-along followed by a big sexy drop. This song does exactly what it needs to do in an amazingly catchy way and that's why it got second place in Eurovision this year. [8]

Leonel Manzanares de la Rosa: The Latin/Caribbean influence -- dembow beat, breezy synths and all -- may be the big appeal of the track, but "Fuego" still contained enough Greek ethno-pop elements to make a bonafide Cypriot ESC entry. Add Eleni's huge personality and you get the European Song of the Summer, a Eurovision runner-up that deserved more, and the best version of Fifth Harmony we never really got. [8]

Edward Okulicz: Can confirm that this had plenty of radio legs in Europe long after the contest was over, but where I think it falls down slightly is that its biggest musical hook is an instrumental, not vocal, one. That's always a penalty of a chart position or leaderboard position or two. Still, it's impressive how this contemporary-for-Eurovision (which means slightly dated in real life) didn't fall into the uncanny valley between lame and cool. It's just much less a great song than it was a terrific spectacle on the night. Looking forward to more countries adopting the "What would Rihanna do?" principle a lot, though. [6]

Katherine St Asaph: More Eurovision songs than you'd think stand up after the contest, if you're willing to sift through the hundreds of chancers. A few of my favorites: Hanna Lindblad's "Manipulated," which is like Natalia Kills doing "S&M" -- no, that isn't just Natalia Kills -- or Laura Nox's "Save a Little Love," which was not actually a Eurovision song but demands to be sung under strobe lights, on a fake cliff, in a dress thrice your height. Thing is, though, their quality is dependent on the quality of the era's workaday pop music. On stage "Fuego" sounded like plausible pop; offstage it's mediocre Maroon 5 or Gwen Stefani. [3]

Scott Mildenhall: "Step one: believe in it," a wise man once noted, "and sing it all day long. Step two: just roll with it -- that's how you write a song". "Fuego" is proof, if proof be needed, that that man was right. "Yeah yeah, fire" -- what could be simpler? As elementary as air, earth and water (and also pelicans), its slickness may have made it a less interesting winner than "Toy," but if Eurovision were a search for songs with hit potential, Foureira would have the edge. [8]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: The impact of the first chorus's drop is huge. The rest? Not so hot. [3]

Juan F. Carruyo: This tune marries a reggaeton beat with a more Mediterranean flavor provided by sampled violins that run through the main hook of the song. Now, the hook itself treads a bit too heavily on rampant exoticism for my taste, thus a notch is docked. [5]

Ryo Miyauchi: This is paint-by-numbers 2018 pop, so your mileage may vary depending upon how played-out you feel the production has become. I find the titular hook phoned-in, cynically playing into the vaguely international feel of the beat. But I still find a lot of life left in the stomping drums and the humming beat drop despite Eleni Foureira's faithful following of instructions, so let's consider "Fuego" a success. [6]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[multimetaverse]

This isn’t about Andi Mack but actually about GMW! I was just curious about what you shipped in the show and if the endgame in gmw played out the way you thought it would

I think this is like my 2nd GMW ask ever anon! I shipped Rucas and Smarkle and Rilaya. I was neutral towards Riarkle and as much as I was creeped out by J*shaya I could see their connection. 

I hated L*caya though. I never saw any of the chemistry or ‘’fire’’ that they supposedly had. I’ll never understand what about that pairing inspired such devotion. And even if I tolerated the pairing itself I could never get over how the show destroyed itself in order to cater to that ship.

I always thought that Rucas would get back together at some point but I’m pretty sure that if there had been a S4 they would have amicably broken up and remained friends so Riley could end the series single. I do wish we had more scenes of them after Ski Lodge as they were a very sweet couple who never deserved all the hate they got.

I was always sure that L*caya was going to crash and burn very badly and then they would end up like Jack and Rachel and not talk to each other anymore but I did think they would actually date at some point but I’m glad that the show skipped right to the crashing and burning.

Up until S3 I thought that Riarkle would happen at some point (though I still think the writers would have Riley be single at the very end in order to contrast between her story and her parents). There were clear vibes between them in Stem and New Year’s and of course there was Charlie’s line in Texas Part 3 about how Riley ends up with Farkle. As Charlie was the voice of the writers, a one man Greek chorus, that line was obvious foreshadowing. But then S3 rolls around and nothing happens.

I don’t think we’ll ever know what happened between S2 and S3 that caused the writers to scrap Riarkle. I think some of it was the fact that Smackle started appearing more in S3 and going to school with them. I also think someone in the writers room or someone at Disney realized what an awful idea it would be to dispose of an autistic woman of colour so her boyfriend could date his best friend who also happened to be one of Smackle’s closest friends! This post does an excellent job of summing up the subtext of Riley and Farkle’s scene together in PR

Tbh if they wanted to do an opposites attract or childhood friends to lovers story they should have just killed two birds with one stone and paired Maya and Farkle. Markle would have been way more interesting than L*caya or Riarkle imo. 

J*shaya should never have been approved and I’m still surprised that Disney let them happen and let them hold hands twice! But I was certain that they were endgame and I think the writers had always planned to make Maya an official part of the Mathews family. 

[elizadoolittlethings]

https://www.room207press.com/2018/01/we-dont-go-back-76-league-of-gentlemen.html

Friday, 19 January 2018

We Don't Go Back #76: The League of Gentlemen (1999-2017)

When

The League of Gentlemen

was first broadcast, I didn't own a TV, and by the time I owned one, I was living with my Beloved, who didn't have any interest in seeing it. Nonetheless, I could tell you a not insignificant amount about the major characters, and reel off catchphrases. I could tell you what it was like. People cared about it. Partly this was because several of my friends adored it, and it entered the referential lexicon of our conversation. But partly it seemed to be present, part of the furniture of our pop culture.

For example, I remember that at the time the university LGB society (the T or the Q were not yet added, which is related to a point I'll pick up later) used pictures of prominent gay and lesbian people on posters for an anti-homophobia campaign and one of them was Mark Gatiss, and I recognised him as the chap from

The League of Gentlemen

. It's fair to say that

The League of Gentlemen

fell firmly into the category of things I'd never seen but which I could take part in a conversation about without getting completely lost.

I never got round to watching

The League of Gentlemen

.

But now this project is Serious Business, there are some things I can't really get away with leaving out. So I committed myself to watching it. A good friend expressed concern that it might be too late for me to do that. I sort of half understood what he was getting at, but only really got what he was about having worked through it.

The usual caveats about how writing about comedy are the antithesis of funny apply here, by the way (I still think my funniest article was the one about

Planet of the Apes

, but I digress).

Honest town signs.

The League of Gentlemen

are Reese Shearsmith, Mark Gatiss, Steve Pemberton and Jeremy Dyson. All four of them write; Gatiss, Pemberton and Shearsmith appear in front of the camera and divide the vast majority of characters, men and women, between them.

It's set in and around the fictional village of Royston Vasey ("You'll never leave!"), in the North of England, where everyone is a grotesque. It's sort of but not entirely sketch comedy.

Some characters appear in most of the episodes: Pauline (Pemberton), who runs a job start course, loves pens and despises the unemployed; Mike (Pemberton), Barry (Gatiss) and their spectacularly messed up mate Geoff (Shearsmith); disappointed musician Les McQueen (Gatiss); Mr Chinnery the vet (Gatiss again), who kills every animal he touches; Hilary Briss the butcher (also Gatiss) who puts something terrible and evil in his delicious sausages; and perhaps the most iconic characters in the show, Edward and Tubbs (Shearsmith and Pemberton), a pair of debased, depraved yokels who run a Local Shop for Local People and who visit unspeakable fates on anyone who comes who isn't Local.

What's all this SHOUTING?

But unlike many sketch shows, the recurring characters' stories progress from episode to episode. So for example, the fate of innocent Benjamin (Shearsmith) at the hands of his finicky aunt Val (Gatiss) and monstrous uncle Harvey (Pemberton) develops and escalates as he realises he might never be able to leave, and begins to formulate a plan of escape. Pauline finds her nemesis in one of her course attendees. Mr Briss's Special Stuff creates an epidemic of nosebleeds.

Many characters appear in no more than a handful of episodes at most, and become the focus of the episodes they're in. The Legz Akimbo theatre company (slogan: "put yourself in a child!") come to visit the local school but their internal tensions destroy the group. A guide leads a party of tourists through the Royston Vasey caves, while replaying a terrible tragedy for which he blames himself. A farmer keeps a man who slept with his wife as a scarecrow in his field. Kenny Harris (Gatiss), owner of the Dog Cinema, engages in a cutthroat business struggle with a rival who's more into cat films.

And then there's Papa Lazarou.

HELLO, DAVE!

Papa Lazarou (Shearsmith) is the single most nightmarish creation of the League of Gentlemen, and along with Tubbs and Edward, is most representative of the show's folk horror elements. He's the owner of the Pandemonium Carnival, which comes to town early in series 2. Papa Lazarou is a nightmare in human form, his scabrous face caked in black-and-white minstrel makeup. He forces his way into people's houses, insisting on calling them "Dave", and intimidating them through an almost supernatural power of domination into giving him their wedding ring, wherein he spirits them away as his slaves, with the phrase, "You're my wife now."

He is genuinely terrifying, and I wonder how that first episode he's in would play if it didn't have a laugh track (only the first two seasons have laugh tracks). And of course he's one of the two places where people most take offence at

The League of Gentlemen.

The most usual objection to Papa Lazarou is that he's in minstrel blackface. But while minstrel makeup is a blot on our culture, it is, it's obvious from the way that Papa Lazarou is framed is that he's supposed to be horrific because he's precisely the sort of person who wears blackface and always wears it.

In his second appearance (the final episode of series 3) there's an insane visual gag revolving around him disguising himself as relatively normal by painting a pale skin tone

over

his blackface makeup, which I found hilarious. But it's also a bit of a problem for a lot of viewers, evidently, because I've read at least two pieces online that interpret the scene as meaning that he's naturally minstrel-toned, which is... Well, I don't know. I'm starting to doubt my own reading a bit, but part of Papa Lazarou's grotesquerie is that you can see how the black and white paint is caked on his face in closeup, and I'm sort of inclined to go with my original reading, partly because it's much less hard to swallow, and mostly because it's a lot funnier.

The League of Gentlemen

is part of a tradition of British comedy and horror alike that deals with grotesque figres: in a show with Geoff, Mr Briss, Pauline, Harvey and, oh God, Edward and Tubbs, Papa Lazarou is just one more of a parade of freaks and monsters. And he is scary, really scary. The episode where Papa Lazarou and his Pandemonium Carnival comes to town (season 2, episode 1) is the point where I moved from a state of "that bit was pretty good" ambivalence to understanding why people consider

The League of Gentlemen

to be an undisputed classic of British TV comedy. Whatever the framing of Papa Lazarou and his freakshow (and notwithstanding the arguments about whether anyone should be making gags about blackface at all, the politics of freakshows is a subject I am simply not equipped to get into), that whole episode is a delirious comic horror and I have seen little to match it.

I can't go to Dorothy Perkins.

The other point where

The League of Gentlemen

gets some flak is in the figure of Babs the transgender cabbie. And the joke with Babs is partly that she's butch and hairy, so that she looks like a bloke in drag (specifically that she resembles the other women characters on the show, only more so), and partly that she's excessively forthcoming about the mechanical details of her transition with her clients. It's complicated by the fact that most of the people of Royston Vasey like her and are supportive of her. No one on the show is ever an open bigot about Babs. She's never deadnamed, for instance. And she's essentially one of the most sympathetic characters in the show. But nonetheless she embodies most of the most enduring transphobic stereotypes, simply by being so grotesque (so much so that we never see her face).

And back in 1999, as I mentioned in passing, we still talked about LGB issues and a lot of us hadn't added the T yet. And it's not as if trans people hadn't been there all along, but trans rights are in the general sphere of discourse now in a way that in the UK they weren't in the 90s. And this doesn't mean that a character like Babs isn't a problem, it means that many of the people who might be aware of the problem now weren't then because it hadn't been pointed out to them. And that isn't an excuse either. It's like all the history that comes back, unresolved, to haunt us.

You could tell that it haunted

The League of Gentlemen

: in the special episodes that aired over the 2017 Christmas season, she's back. She has to be, really: in a lot of ways, Babs acts like a Greek chorus for the unfolding story. So here she is, opening proceedings as ever. Barbara has transitioned successfully now, and she even says that trans people should not be "a source of cheap laughs" just for being who they are, and given that Barbara is a character who has always been framed as having her heart in the right place, as someone you're supposed to sympathise with, it's pretty clear that this is what Dyson, Gatiss, Pemberton and Shearsmith actually think.

But for her to even appear, and it's more or less obligatory that she does, she still has to supply a joke. So now, no longer an Ugly Trans Person, Barbara is an Excessively Touchy Trans Person who seizes on innocuous statements and takes offence to comic effect.

I wonder if Papa Lazarou and Barbara are problems like this because of the way

The League of Gentlemen

engages with its inspirations.

The League of Gentlemen

owes a great deal to classic British TV and cinema of the 60s and 70s, but crucially it engages with that source material in a way that enriches the show. It's instructive here to compare it with

Dr Terrible's House of Horrible

, which is roughly contemporary and which, unlike

The League of Gentlemen

, has not entered the annals of classic comedy. They both get their inspiration from similar places, in fact in several cases the same places – I mentioned

The League of Gentlemen

's odd relationship with sketch comedy, and it's sort of fair to say that it's sketch comedy in the way that an Amicus anthology horror is sketch horror. But where

Dr Horrible

depended on your being familiar with the source material, at least to some extent, to get the gag,

The League of Gentlemen

tells a collection of stories that don't depend on any foreknowledge at all. It's not a parody, and it's not entirely an homage either, although it has parodic elements and homage is threaded through the whole thing.

Rather, it's a comedy that focusses on the absurdity of evil and the equal absurdity of despair and that uses the grammar of classic British horror to tell those stories.

A Beast.

For example, a narrative thread in the fourth episode has workers on a proposed road digging up an inexplicable creature. Mr Chinnery comes to examine it, and proves as incompetent as ever. And while the scene carries a bunch of signifiers that come from Nigel Kneale, echoing

Quatermass

and

Beasts

in particular, and multiplied by the simple fact that Mr Chinnery looks and acts like Tristan Farnham (Peter Davison's character in

All Creatures Great and Small

), the joke doesn't depend on that. It depends on a moment of uncanny horror punctured when the vet's incompetence is revealed once more.

For the joke to land, you don't have to have seen

Baby

or

Quatermass and the Pit

, and while the whole scene is richer if you imagine Tristan Farnham in a Nigel Kneale script, that's not the joke. No, for the joke to land, you just need to have seen Mr Chinnery in action enough for you to be waiting for the moment when he fails catastrophically.

And throughout

The League of Gentlemen

, this texture is present. Royston Vasey is a vaguely comical, Northern-sounding name. But it is also the real name of legendarily foul-mouthed comedian Roy "Chubby" Brown, who himself appears later in the series as the town's mayor. And the joke with the mayor is that he's got a swearing problem, and that's a simple enough joke that you don't need to know who Roy "Chubby" Brown is, or that he's guesting as mayor of a town named after him to get it. That other stuff helps, but it isn't essential.

But the problem with the way that

The League of Gentlemen

mines classic horror and comedy is that sometimes it homages the things that perhaps should be left behind, so you get characters like Babs and Papa Lazarou, who are both beautifully played and well-written comic characters, but who reference stuff that is difficult to justify beyond nostalgia.

The League of Gentlemen

is important as the first sign of the folk horror renaissance that we've had in the last few years. Rather than saying "look at all these ropey old films! Aren't they terrible?"

The League of Gentlemen

embraces them, but crucially makes new things. It's a comedy, but it's also a horror: Edward and Tubbs reference any number of pagan village conspiracies. "We didn't burn him!" blurts Tubbs to the Scottish policeman who comes looking for poor missing Martin, but not before Edward tells Tubbs that she "did it beautifully."  You don't have to know that they're quoting

The Wicker Man

to think they're funny and scary.

There's nothing for

you

here.

The members of

The League of Gentlemen

have taken active part in the rise of folk horror as a recognised genre. Jeremy Dyson scripted the recent film

Ghost Stories.

Shearsmith of course starred in

A Field in England

, and with Pemberton continues to make

Inside No. 9

, an anthology show that combines comedy and drama, and which has had at least a couple of folk horror episodes. The most notable of these is

The Trial of Elizabeth Gadge

, where Pemberton and Shearsmith play 17th century witch hunters. Just like

The League of Gentlemen

,

The Trial of Elizabeth Gadge

isn't a spoof or a parody, it's a black comedy that stands on its own merits, even while it draws inspiration from other sources.

And Reese Shearsmith took part in Folk Horror Revival's 2016 event at the British Museum, hearing about which is how I realised that there was a name for the things I liked.

Mark Gatiss is the man who might be credited for extending the name "folk horror" to a genre (Piers Haggard being the first to apply it consciously to his own film). In his 2010 series

History of Horror

, Gatiss popularised the idea of the Unholy Trinity, and talked at length about

Blood on Satan's Claw

, which probably did more to bring about the critical reassessment of that film than anything else. Gatiss also wrote

Crooked House

, which aired on the BBC in 2008, and the 2013 adaptation of

The Tractate Middoth.

Together with Shearsmith, Gatiss has remade

Blood on Satan's Claw

as an audio drama (released January 2018).

You could argue pretty persuasively that without

The League of Gentlemen

, there might not have been a rebirth of interest in folk horror at all. Without them, it would still be an accidental genre. A local genre, for local people.

My

Patreon

supporters got to see this last week! To support my work and read early, please consider donating. No donation too small.

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interesting read

this pic motivated the search

https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQHVqfTZiw_khqpo2AZaRMu1kFLvWgFeO4wkNBNxGKnoLxxu-LI

[musicallisto]

Bonjour Belle✨, Can I know more about your ES MC with the MC ask game? ✨

Thanks for asking! I love talking about my OCs until I annoy the heck out of people ^^

#01. Name? Any nickname? Taylor Hera Montgomery-McKenzie, although she doesn’t know she has a middle name. It isn’t written on any of the paperwork involving her since her birth, adding to the mysteries surrounding her. Hera, in addition to being a mythological figure, of course, is also said to derive from the Greek ‘ηρως (heros) “hero, warrior”; ‘ωρα (hora) “period of time"; or ‘αιρεω (haireo) “to be chosen”. Those three ideas combined pretty much sum up her personality and fate.

#02. Birthday? As her file says, she was born on January 1st on La Huerta.

#03. What’s their family like? She has lost all rememberance of her family. It started bothering her more and more as time passed on the island. When she got on that plane, she clearly remembered her parents, her father’s kind smile and her mother’s warm eyes, her little brother’s cheerful enthusiasm, but the more time she spent on La Huerta, the less she thought about them and the more those colors and laughs started to blur as though the island was having some tricky effect on her mind - or perhaps it was revealing the true nature of what she deeply considered as her memories and her history. She has only confessed those doubts to Jake during their honeymoon, but brushed it off lightly, not wanting to kill the mood between her husband and her, and aware he could do nothing about it.

#04. Relationship status? She is handfasted to Jake McKenzie, which can be considered as a marriage despite not being one in the Western norm.

#05. Top 3 songs?

3. Enrique Iglesias - Bailando2. Amaral - Alerta1. Muse - Unintended

She’s definitely one for what people would consider “guilty pleasure music”. She loves all genres, but has always had a soft spot for reggaeton and hispanophonic music in general, whether it be from South America or Spain. Spanish is a language that she’s always felt drawn to, maybe because of its warm and sensual sound. Alerta is a song she finds utterly beautiful, despite not understanding any of the lyrics at first. If you hear her humming a tune, that’s probably the “ale ale, ale ale alerta”s from the chorus. And Unintended… Unintended reminds her of her adolescence, when she went through her rock phase like almost every 90′s kid - the thing she’s never quite gotten out of it, and fell utterly in love with this band and this particular song when she was fifteen. It reminds her of her relationship with Jake every time she listens to it and always manages to soothe her.

#06. Fave book? Taylor is one for mystery, thriller and science-fiction. She’s in love with Agatha Christie’s books, always been, so it’s clear that her favorite book of all time is Ten Little Niggers, a novel that is so different from everything she’s ever read before. The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux is a very close second though. She didn’t think she would like it that much when she first picked it up, usually not that interested in romance nor historical fiction, but it became her number two through the years thanks to the deep, complex personalities of the characters and the mystery surrounding the phantom.

#07. Fave movie? Although the Phantom of the Opera adaptation from 2001 holds a special place in her heart because of how much she adored the book, her favorite movie is Silence of the Lambs.

#08. Fave show? She’s never watched a lot of TV-shows, but if she had to choose one, it would be Black Mirror, which she never finished because of her life-changing trip.

#09. Hobbies? Swimming. She’s a very strong swimmer, it’s her favorite sport and what she’s always done when she needs to get her mind off of things a little bit. She’s never participated in any competitions though. She also used to practise horse-riding when she was little, but stopped when she entered middle school.

#10. What Perfect Match type would they be? She is the Leader. She has that little something that makes all people instantly confide in her and trust her to make the best decisions and guide them through the storms. She’s most comfortable when in command.

#11. Biggest guilty pleasure? As I mentioned before, it’s all about Latino music! She doesn’t personally consider it a guilty pleasure, just songs that are often played at parties and nowhere else, but she loves to have a little Gente de Zona dance party on her own. She’s a terrible dancer, but that doesn’t stop her from enjoying it, right?

#12. Deepest darkest secret? Apart from being the Endless, she doesn’t remember anything very huge, and her life as she remembers it has always been pretty uneventful and calm. Nobody knows that she has stolen money from some of her classmates in high school when she was in very tough times. It’s not something she’s proud of, and wouldn’t really mind if that shameful memory turned out to be a scam.

#13. Fave childhood memory? She remembers when she went to Disney World in Florida with her parents and her brother - she must have been six or seven, and insisted on going on every. single. ride. much to her parents’ dismay, they were dragged by her brother and her all around the park, but that’s still Taylor’s most prized memory.

#14. Sweet or savoury? Savory, and if possible, spicy.

#15. Hogwarts house? She is a Gryffindor through and through!

#16. Fave food? Argentinan parrilla! More commonly known as grill, but Argentinan parrilla sounds better to her, and Argentinan steak is definitely the best of all.

#17. Fave drink? She doesn’t like sodas, so she would stick to water or lemonade most of the time, but she is also a great mojito fan.

#18. Most treasured possession? A quartz necklace her mother offered her when she turned eighteen, something that has passed through her family for generations and generations. She doesn’t know if everything in her past is false, but at least the necklace isn’t, securely resting on her neck.

#19. Their goals for the future? She wants to escape this hell of an island, spend a few years away from everything by the shore with her husband while helping him clear his name and attending college to finally graduate - then find a stable career and maybe have kids.

#20. Dog-lover or cat-lover? She’s a dog lover! Dogs are better than anything or anyone in her opinion. She doesn’t necessarily hate cats, but she does dislike their tendency to be very independent and snobbish at times.

#21. Early bird or night owl? She’s a night owl. She has no trouble being awake past midnight, but is unable to wake up before seven in the morning. Ever. E v e r.

#22. How do they relax after a bad day? She takes a bath, a long, hot shower or goes swimming in the pool. As I said before, she’s literally a fish in the water and that’s her element.

#23. What do they see as their biggest flaw? She’s aware of her tendency to be quite bossy. Accostumed to being the leader of her group of friends or in school projects, the respected older sister, and with lenient parents, it’s understandable that she would develop the tendency to think that she’s in the position to give orders to anyone. When meeting other strong, commanding personalities like Sean, it was obvious it would clash at first.

#24. And their greatest strength? On the other hand, she is cold-blooded and knows how not to lose her temper when facing a dangerous situation. She knows a lot about survival and feels at ease with responsibilities.

#25. Tragedy strikes! How do they handle a crisis? At first, she shuts everyone off, isolates herself and tries to think about it on her own, but not for long or she’s bound to go crazy or do something stupid. Most of the time, she tries not to show the effect it has on her, but it’s sometimes difficult to hide her feelings from people she’s with all the time.

#26. Coffee shop order? I’m not sure she really likes coffee, or at least, if she can avoid drinking it, she will. She often orders a hot chocolate instead.

#27. It’s Friday night and they’re home alone, what do they get up to? Probably go clubbing with friends or throw a party at her place! She loves music, she loves dancing, she loves being surrounded by people, so it’s the best alternative to concile those three things.

#28. Fave pizza toppings? There’s this pizza that has BBQ sauce, lardons and mushrooms… it’s her ultimate favorite.

#29. What would their superhero name be? Harley Quinn. She’s always liked the tortuous comics character and her complex relationship with the Joker, and their partner in crime-like dynamic reminds her of her complicity with her friends and especially with Jake - besides, Joker was the first nickname she gave him.

#30. What would their ideal day look like? Something adventurous, ourdoors, something out of the ordinary, a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Something like paragliding over the bay, or one of her biggest dreams: swimming in the open sea with marine animals.

#31. What did they want to be when they grew up? Has it changed? Believe it or not, when she was little, she wanted to be a firefighter. She’s always been attracted to the idea of helping other people and being in the heat of the action. After she grew up, she abandoned that idea and thought about becoming a doctor. She doesn’t mind what field, she’s sure about the fact that she wants to save people, whatever the cost is.

#32. Do they believe in ghosts? I mean, after being repeatedly saved by one, it’s a little hard not to. But even after La Huerta, a part of her always believed in them.

#33. Do they like amusement parks? oh YES she adores them and would spend DAYS in there if she could.

#34. How many pillows do they sleep with? Three. She likes to be comfortable when she’s sleeping and bury her face in the soft fabric.

#35. What song always gets them dancing? Bailando by Enrique Iglesias. No matter the context, she will always try a few flamenco moves (and fail).

#36. Fave boardgame? Mafia! She’s the one who proposes a game of Mafia at literally every party ever and therefore kills the mood with her childishness lol

#37. If they play Monopoly, what token are they? The ship. To blow up her enemies better, she says.

#38. What does their laugh sound like? High-pitched, a little airy and always with her infamous flirtatious notes.

#39. Describe their aesthetic. Dancing until four in the morning, summer nights and their infinity of stars, tipsily walking down the streets in the unholy hours of the morning, neon lights, cocktail umbrellas by the beach.

#40. Do they exercise? Yeah, she loves running and as I mentioned before, swimming, so she does both on a daily basis. She’s quite athletic, but absolutely not gracious or flexible. So forget everything about dancing or gymnastics.

#41. Fears? Waking up before seven a.m., essentially. Also, she’s terrified ogf being alone, she cannot stand solitude. And she’s never told anyone about her phobia of bugs. Especially wasps. Those creatures deserve hell. She will lose her mind if a wasp is around and try to find the closest source of water to avoid it. They’re the worst for her, and she’s already had panic attacks when being bothered by a wasp when she was little.

#42. Proudest achievement? Surviving La Huerta is already a good one, but apart from that, running 500m in 1′31 minutes when she was eighteen. She hasn’t been able to beat that record ever since, and it’s safe to stay she will never do it again… unless she’s chased down by a horde of zombies.

#43. Fave type of weather? Sunny! She hates the cold and can’t stand foggy weather.

#44. Fave animal? I can see her really liking small monkeys, malicious and clever, but her favorite animal of all of them is the tiger. There’s something so majestic and venerable about them.

#45. Do they like fairytales? She loved them as a kid, but they remained in her childhood. Let’s say she doesn’t care about them that much.

#46. Describe them in 3 words. Fierce piña colada. That’s it. That’s Taylor.

#47. Biggest pet peeve? Slow walkers. she’s always moving, jumping, hyperactive, she has to have space to move.

#48. Hobbies? Swimming, dancing, running - she used to take some guitar lessons when she was younger, but basically only remembers how to play the intro riff of Come As You Are and it’s a very, very painful process.

#49. Extrovert or introvert? Extrovert! That doesn’t mean she can’t be shy in some situations, but she feels more at ease when she’s around a large group of people.

#50. Random headcanon She’s never been to a music festival, nor a concert for that matter. She promised herself she would go one summer to Reading Festival or Coachella with Diego, but never got the chance to do it. It’s one of her biggest regrets when she’s stuck on La Huerta.

MC questionnaire!

[plagueofsquid]

Head Over Feet

My secret santa fic! For @anime-imagines-galore. Here’s some sweet giomis.

@jjba-secret-santa

“You guys can keep a secret, right?”

The Pistols stared back at Mista with their best approximations of innocence, and he sighed. “Okay,” Mista said. “If you tell, no food for a week.”

“No fair!” No.5 whined. “We’ll starve!” The rest erupted into a chorus of similar complaints and theatrical crying and why couldn’t Mista just have a normal Stand, one that didn’t talk back?

“Shut it!” No.1 screeched, loud enough to drown out the others and leave Mista’s ears ringing. “I wanna hear the secret!” One by one, the Pistols quieted down, looking up at Mista expectantly.

Mista swallowed hard. His mouth was dry all of a sudden, and he was probably blushing again. Fucking emotions. “You promise not to tell?”

All of the Pistols nodded, suddenly the pictures of honesty. Bullshit. The little shits may technically also be Mista, but they’d sell him out for half a slice of salami, no question. But he needed help, and there wasn’t really anyone else he could talk to. Not if he wanted to keep it a secret. Turns out there were downsides to only having gangsters for friends.

“Fine. I’m taking Giorno on a date.”

It was pandemonium. Mista hadn’t asked for this. Stands were supposed to be helpful, like a ghost buddy or a Pokémon or something. Not annoying little fucks who spent half the time yelling and the other half sleeping. But at least they seemed happy with the development, even if the celebrations were a bit much.

No.7 tried his best to shake Mista’s hand. “Fucking finally! When are you two gonna get hitched already?”

Mista was definitely blushing now. “Shut up! It’s just a date!”

No.6 rolled his eyes. “Puh-lease! Just a date?”

“Yeah!” No.3 chimed in, unhelpfully. “You’re crazy about him!”

“It’s like ‘Giorno, please! Please fuck me!’” No.2 collapsed in an exaggerated swoon into No.1’s arms, fanning himself with his hand like a lady in an old movie.

“That’s you,” No.5 added, just in case Mista hadn’t gotten the message.

Could he kill his own Stand? It would probably kill him as well, but at this point that sounded like a relief.

The worst part was, they weren’t entirely wrong. Mista had certainly had… thoughts about Giorno. Entirely inappropriate thoughts to have about his boss, but that hadn’t stopped his stupid brain shoving them in his face. Giorno was just too damn pretty. And smart. And confident and beautiful and determined and maybe the Pistols did have a point after all. Mista definitely had a thing for Giorno. And it should have just stayed a mysterious, undefined ‘thing’, but someone up there had it out for Mista.

Giorno was a strange boss to work for. Mista was supposed to be his bodyguard, but this was Giorno they were talking about, he didn’t need a bodyguard. People didn’t fuck with Giorno, at least not more than once. So Mista’s job was more like moral support. Not like Giorno really needed that either, but he seemed to enjoy it anyway.

And every so often, he would make some comment about being free over the weekend or wanting to see a new movie or did Mista know that the flowers were blooming in the plaza, maybe they should take a walk sometime, just the two of them. But Mista couldn’t proposition his boss, men got murdered for much less, and anyway he wasn’t good enough for Giorno.

Mista had hooked up with girls miles out of his league before, but Giorno was on a whole other planet. Everything about him shone, like the stained glass windows of a cathedral, all colors and sharp, defined shapes. And if Giorno was a beautiful picture of some holy thing, Mista was the floor. Useful, but made to be that way and not much more. Giorno deserved someone as perfect as he was, not just regular old Mista.

But yesterday Giorno had looked him straight in the eyes and said, “You’re taking me out tomorrow night,” like that was a thing people did, just asked someone on a date out of nowhere. No, not even on a date. Giorno had asked Mista to ask him on a date, which was a total Giorno move. And like most Giorno moves, it didn’t really make sense but happened anyway. So now Mista was taking Giorno out on a date.

The Pistols were having a great time, just laughing up a storm, the little fucks, and Mista was no closer to a solution. So as the laughter finally died down, he gave them a serious look. “C’mon, guys. I need your help.”

That got their attention, and they all hastily stood at attention, like they hadn’t just been mocking him a second ago.

Mista sighed. “I don’t know where to take him.” Sure, he’d been on dates before, but Giorno was something special. He wasn’t just some girl Mista wanted to fuck. The regular stuff wouldn’t do. “Any ideas?”

Turns out that was a mistake.

“The movies!” No.7 yelled.

“Yeah!” No.3 added. “Go see some romantic shit! Get him in the mood!”

“No!” No.1 screeched. “The beach! Swimsuits!”

“A carnival!” No.2 offered.

“A restaurant!” No.6 hopped in place, waving his arms. “A really fancy one! Giorno likes fancy shit!”

The suggestions devolved into a mess of sound, and in the middle of it all there was No.5, quietly raising his hand like this mess was a really annoying classroom.

“No.5,” Mista said, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the others. They got the message, and grumbled into silence. “Do you have an idea?”

No.5 stared at his feet. “Don’t take him anywhere. Just hang out together in your apartment. You know, keep it real casual.”

“Okay, that has potential.” Mista wasn’t going to impress Giorno with a fancy meal or a carnival. There were very few things that could impress the Boss of Passione. But a quiet evening at home sounded… pleasant. Like something he couldn’t fuck up too much.

Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad.

—

Six o’clock. Mista had said six o’clock, and Giorno was never late. And that meant he had four minutes left, because of course it was four.

His apartment wasn’t much, comfortable enough for one person but not anything impressive. Mista liked it that way. He didn’t spend much time at home anyway, so a smaller space suited him.

Mista had tried his best to clean up, but it hadn’t done much good. He was naturally a bit messy, and that was only amplified by the fact that he hadn’t bothered to put his stuff away for like a year. Came with living alone, along with plenty of leftovers and the ability to be naked whenever he wanted.

But now that was biting him in the ass. Giorno would be there in three, no two minutes, and Mista’s apartment could be charitably called a fucking wreck. So the date wasn’t going great so far and it hadn’t even started yet, which probably wasn’t a good sign.

And just as Mista realized he had forgotten to put the dishes away again, there was a knock at his door. There wasn’t any avoiding it. Mista took a deep breath and opened the door.

Giorno looked like a dream. He wore an exquisite suit, probably some designer label that Mista had never even heard of, all black with gold details, and there were flowers woven into his blond hair like a crown. Living flowers of course, but they shone like jewels, like nothing Mista had every seen.

Mista stood there, staring like a fucking weirdo for longer than he’d like to admit, before he realized he should say something. “Wow.”

“Too much?” Giorno looked down and nervously fiddled with the hem of his jacket. “I can get rid of the flowers.”

“No. It’s fine.” It really wasn’t. Mista was still wearing his usual sweater and jeans and Giorno looked like a fucking Greek god. “Come in.”

Giorno stepped into his apartment and holy shit, Giorno was in his apartment, where he most certainly did not belong in his tailored suit and his leather shoes. Mista’s apartment, where he had once gotten a wad of half-chewed gum stuck on the ceiling for like a month (long story, hanging posters was hard). Why had he thought this was okay? Because it wasn’t. It super wasn’t.

“This is nice,” Giorno said and smiled, because he was always so polite, even when telling lies.

“Oh. Thanks.” Mista could feel his face turn red. “Do you- do you wanna sit down?”

“Sure.” There was an expression on Giorno’s face that Mista hadn’t seen before. It looked so alien on his delicate features.

Mista gestured at the couch. It was mostly clean, except for a stack of magazines on one end, which Mista realized with a sinking feeling, contained a few titles that Giorno definitely should not see. Mista couldn’t really be blamed for having those, he was a teenaged boy living alone after all, but Giorno didn’t need to see them. So he hurriedly scooped up the pile of magazines and ducked into his bedroom. They could hide in his closet for now. Surely Giorno wouldn’t look in there.

By the time Mista returned to the living room, Giorno was sitting comfortably on the couch like a king on a throne because that was really the only way Giorno sat anywhere. He had something commanding about the way he held himself, and he didn’t seem able to turn it off. Like the curls in his hair, it just happened.

“I like your apartment,” Giorno said. “It smells good.”

“What?” Mista’s apartment didn’t smell like much of anything.

Giorno’s eyes went big. “Nothing.” There was that strange expression again. Was he afraid? “Rounding up the drug teams is going well. I think we can finish the task over the next few months.”

“Yeah.” Mista sat down next to him and stared pointedly at his own hands. “I think so too.”

“And Buccellati is handling the trafficking ring in Sicily. He said he won’t need backup, but I’m thinking about sending some anyway. Just to be careful.”

“Good idea.”

“Thanks.”

The room was about quiet enough to hear a pen drop. It could be going worse, Mista supposed. Giorno could have actually murdered him. But it could also be going a lot better.

Giorno was the one to break the silence. He pointed at the console by Mista’s TV. “Is that a Famicom?”

“N64,” Mista answered. “Narancia gave it to me last Christmas. Not sure where he got the money.”

“Do you play games on it?”

“Yeah.”

Thankfully, the most uncomfortable conversation Mista had even been in was interrupted by the buzz of his doorbell. He stood up and answered it. Pizza. Mista couldn’t cook very well, not well enough for someone like Giorno, so he’d thought it was a good idea to order pizza. Everybody liked pizza. But now, as he handed over the cash and shut the door with the box in his hands, he realized that was a mistake. He should have at least ordered something fancy.

There wasn’t really any backing down now, so he put the box down on his rickety little kitchen table and got plates out of the dishwasher and pulled up an extra chair. If Giorno was offended, and surely he was, he was doing a great job of hiding it.

Over dinner, Giorno talked about business and things started to seem normal again. He had recently met with the head of operations in Southern Italy, and there was a lot to explain about the trouble with the hierarchy. The previous boss had left Passione in a tricky position with power was divided between regional leaders and Giorno’s reforms required a strong centralized system and that made things difficult.

Giorno was so interesting to listen to. He saw things that no one else did, the little connections and loopholes that he could exploit. Where most people would see a closed door, Giorno saw an opportunity. The way he explained things, it was like uncovering a whole new way of thinking, like he wasn’t describing the same stuff Mista knew and understood. He could listen to Giorno for hours, just talking about the simplest shit.

This was how Giorno should be, confident and smooth and not the least bit scared. But whenever the conversation left business, he got that look again and struggled for words. Mista wasn’t much better, but at least he was consistently terrible.

When they were done eating, they returned to the couch, and Mista floated the idea of a movie. Giorno seemed more than willing to quit worrying about conversation for an hour or two. Mista chose at random, and that ended up being Dirty Harry because why not the least Giorno kind of movie out there. But once it started, Mista realized his choice hadn’t really mattered. Neither of them were watching.

Giorno made the first move. As the old TV flickered to life, he grabbed Mista’s hand like he was trying to steal it and held on tight. It wasn’t quite romantic, but it was somewhere close. And by the time the movie really started, Giorno was practically sitting in his lap. The flowers in his hair tickled Mista’s nose and Giorno laughed when he sneezed and it was the only thing in the world that mattered. Giorno didn’t laugh very often, but there he was, wrapped in Mista’s arms and giggling like a schoolgirl.

The next hour and a half was maybe the best of Mista’s life. Giorno was warm and beautiful and now that the initial barrier had broken, he was brave. Nothing dirty just cuddling, and somehow that felt more intimate than sex. So even if the date was a failure, at least Mista had gotten to hold him for a little while. And that wasn’t enough, but it was better than he deserved.

The credits rolled and Giorno checked his watch. He sighed when he saw how late it had gotten, and sat up. “I have a meeting in the morning.”

“It’s fine,” Mista said. “You’ve got work to do.” Of course Giorno didn’t want to spend the night. Mista had proved himself a shitty potential boyfriend.

Giorno fixed the collar of his jacket. “This was nice.”

“Really?” Maybe that was going too far, but Mista was a fucking idiot and maybe Giorno was telling the truth.

“Yeah,” Giorno said. He bent down and kissed Mista on the cheek. “Let’s do it again tomorrow.”

And he left Mista sitting on his shitty couch in his shitty apartment, wondering how in the world he had gotten so lucky that maybe, just maybe Giorno loved him back.