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laurasimonsdaughter · 3 years ago

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All about the Dullahan

Thomas Croften Croker’s Fairy legends and traditions of the south of Ireland (1825-1834) seems to be the main – if not only – written source of full folktales about the Dullahan. It contains a section titled “The Dullahan” which consists of four folktales, one ballad, and some research notes that refer to further stories.

Not all these stories actually even use the name Dullahan, but Croker seems to have gathered them together on the basis of them being headless. Explaining: “Headless people are not peculiar to Ireland, although there alone they seem to have a peculiar name” (1928, p. 98). So which Dullahan does Mr Croker have on offer? The answer is: a set of very different creatures which he all calls Dullahan, but which are not always referred to as Dullahan and who are, from story to story, revenants, fae, death omens, and a restless spirit.

I will sum up their characteristics for every story and give a verdict on their supernatural nature under the cut (this got very long):

The Good Woman (1928, p. 85-98):

Type 1:

A short woman in a large cloak that conceals her completely who is:

Headless, and isn’t carrying her head

Shows up in twilight, seen only by a man riding home alone

Very quick and nimble, can leap onto a horse and over a wall, seem to glide rather than run

Does not speak, does not make a sound when jumping on the ground

Is corporeal, as she can be touched

Is described as a “merry wench”

She allows a man to give her a ride before jumping off his horse and running away from him, clearly making a game of letting him chase her

She runs into the ruins of an old church near a pool to meet with:

Type 2:

A crowd of “well dressed ladies and gentlemen, and soldiers and sailors, and priests and publicans, and jockeys and Jennys, but all without their heads”

These Dullahan are having a party, where they dance around a torture wheel set with skulls (unclear if these are their own heads) amidst the ruins of the church, to the music of ringing bells and rattling bones

Accompanying them, but not dancing, are:

Type 3:

Skeletons with loose heads that they bowl and throw around as a game

They have bleached bones covered by moth-eaten shrouds

These Dullahan speak, but only in unison “as with one voice, that quavered like a shake on the bagpipes”

One of them carries his head under his left arm while he offers the human protagonist a drink

All three types are referred to as Dullahan

They all leave in “a great hurry scurry with the noise of carriages and the cracking of whips,” presumably making off with the protagonist’s horse as well, who accuses them of being “the horse stealing robbers of the world, that have no fear of the gallows”.

VERDICT: Revenant. Having wild parties, tricking people, and stealing from them is definitely fae behaviour, but apart from that these Dullahan seem to be playful and rather powerful undead, that once were human.

Hanlon’s Mill (p. 103-109):

A great high black coach drawn by six headless black horses, with long black tails reaching almost down to the ground, and a headless coachman dressed all in black sitting up on the box

Possibly heralded by strange sounds during twilight: “such blowing of horns and hallooing, and the cry of all the hounds in the world and “the golloping of the horses, and the voice of the whipper-in”

They appear near a pool of water, bringing darkness with them that blocks out the moon

Neither whip, nor hooves, nor wheels make any sound

The day after a hitherto healthy man has fallen ill and dies

Not called Dullahan by name

Verdict: Omen. Specifically the ghostly coach-a-bower, the death coach. The image of a black coach (or hearse) riding by to foretell someone’s death is quite a common occurrence in folklore.

“Another legend of the same district (as Hanlon’s Mill)” (p. 109):

A black coach, drawn by headless horses, drives to and fro every night, both through the countryside and through a town

It stops at the doors of different houses, but anyone who opens the door to it gets a basin of blood thrown in their face

Not called Dullahan by name, but the story is not told in full

VERDICT: ??? Supernatural prankster? No mention is made of this coach foretelling death, so this seems to be mischief for mischief’s sake. Throwing blood at people is also not very spectral, nudging them a step towards fae in my book.

A legend from Dublin (p. 110-111):

A coach, sometimes driven by a coachman without a head, sometimes drawn by horses without heads, drives furiously past a castle where a clergyman hung himself, possibly with supernatural aid

Not called Dullahan by name, but the story is not told in full

Verdict: Omen. The coach-a-bower again, but this time not to foretell a death but to announce that an (unnatural) death has taken place.

The Harvest Dinner (p. 112-128):

A great old family coach, drawn by six headless horses, driven by a headless coachman

There are headless passengers inside and four fine footmen standing behind the coach, also headless

They emerge from a moat with a great rumbling noise and go towards an old church

They are driving at the rate of a hunt and make sparks fly out of the stones of the road (which implies their horses were horseshoes!)

Even with the whole coach they are faster than a man on horseback

A gate opens for the coach as by magic

Not called Dullahan, but referred to as “fairies”

Ahead of them in this procession are other fairies: “the prettiest little fellows you ever laid your eyes upon. They were all dressed in green hunting frocks, with nice little red caps on their heads, and they were mounted on pretty little long-tailed white ponies, not so big as young kids"

All are seen by the light of the (full) moon, by a man going home alone at night, but he is not afraid of the headless fairies after he notices they have no eyes to see him with

VERDICT: Fae. They are clearly taking part in a fairy procession and are minding their own business, possibly going to have a party at the old church.

The Death Coach, a ballad (p. 134-136):

A coach decorated with a shroud, with headless horses, headless driver and headless passengers

The wheel spokes are thigh bones, the pole a spine and the lamps sculls

They drive at great speed and the coachman cracks a whip

They stop at a churchyard where they speak with the dead in the ground, arguing with them to let them rest there for the night

They plan to go on tomorrow: “for having no heads of our own, We seek the Old Head of Kinsale" (this is a place in Ireland, the whole ballad is full of puns like this)

VERDICT: More rowdy revenants. They have a very gaudy death coach, but do not foretell death, and are clearly accustomed to sleeping in graves.

An anecdote from Cork (p. 136):

Dullahans “drive particularly hard wherever a death is going to take place”

They come in a great crowd, with a large procession

The coachman has a long whip “with which he can whip the eyes out of any one, at any distance, that dares to look at him”

VERDICT: Omen?? Fae that are into death for the goth of it??

The Headless Horseman (p. 138-150)

A headless rider who carries his head under his right arm or in the pocket of his coat, on a headless white horse, who has its head floating in front of it

The head is gaunt and ashy pale, with “depressed features” that look “like a large cream cheese hung round with black puddings” and has two large, fiery eyes, matted black hair, and a mouth that reaches from ear to ear

He wears a scarlet single-breasted hunting frock with “a waist of a very old fashioned cut reaching to the saddle, with two huge shining buttons at about a yard distance behind”

He appears to a man on horseback, at night, in the rain

The head speaks in a hoarse voice, but only sparingly, most questions only get a “Humph”

The horseman rides without use of whip, spur or stirrups

The ground shakes under the weight of the hooves, which make a fearful clattering noise and stir the water of nearby pools into waves

Gladly enters into a race with the protagonist and he even promises the man that his horse will be safe

He is never called a Dullahan but just “the headless horseman” and even refers to himself in this way

After the race the headless horseman reveals that ever since he and his horse broke their necks at the bottom of a hill he has been trying to find a man brave enough to ride with him, he gives the man his blessing, promising him that he will never desert him nor the old mare he is riding (and supposedly helping him to win horseraces)

VERDICT: Restless spirit. To me this fellow has very little in common with the other stories. This is very much a doomed rider type of figure, although the curt conversation has a striking resemblance to a similar headless rider in the story A Queen’s County Witch (Yeats, 188, p. 151-154), where the figure is a witch in disguise.

Croker collected his stories in the typical 19th century folklorists’ style, through correspondence, interviews, and borrowing from other authors. He also rewrote the stories quite extensively, and has been criticised on his attitude towards “the Irish peasantry” as he did so. Yeats was one of these critics, (while he did still consider Croker an expert), and as he is the only other 19th-century source on Dullahan I thought his short notes are worth quoting too. He refers to the Dullahan (or Dallahan) both as “headless phantoms” and one of the “solitary fairies” (p. 81), and mentions them in the section “The Banshee”:

“An omen that sometimes accompanies the banshee is the coach-a-bower [cóiste-bodhar]—an immense black coach, mounted by a coffin, and drawn by headless horses driven by a Dullahan. It will go rumbling to your door, and if you open it, according to Croker, a basin of blood will be thrown in your face. These headless phantoms are found elsewhere than in Ireland.” (Yeats, 1888, p. 108).

CONCLUSION: If it’s Irish and headless and walking or riding around ominously, it’s a Dullahan. Which may be a fae, a ghostly omen, or a revenant, just as they please. There clearly is no one coherent definition to be found.

I still insist on putting the cursed headless horseman in another category though. Dullahan clearly have some shared preferences, like a love for twilight and moonlight, horses and coaches, ruined churches and pool. And, interestingly, they seem to always show up either with a coach or a whole company. So I feel justified in saying that the spectre of a solitary person who remembers his own death and knows his reason for still roaming the earth, does not embody the Dullahan sprit.

#well #that was a lot of reading #and I shall now put this delightfully obscure piece of folklore to bed #irish folklore #dullahan #revenant #ghosts #fae #laura babbles #I will blame Azura for all this at least in part to justify myself

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qqueenofhades · 4 years ago

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Whew!

Darklina + academia AU? (Professors, students, whatever dynamic you find most interesting)

Alina Starkov has always loved maps.

There’s just something about them: the deeply human struggle to understand the world, to sketch it out, to imagine fantastic beasts and lands and people on the margins, here be dragons. It’s half illusion and half reality, a guidebook both to what lies out there and what is dreamed of. She is fascinated by the relative accuracy of maps drawn long before satellites and space photographs – that, say, the sixteenth-century Europa recens descripta à Guileilmo Blaeuw does look pretty much like the modern continent. Well, mostly. She wrote her undergraduate senior thesis on the fictional island of Frisland, long believed to exist in the North Atlantic Ocean just south of Iceland, and its role in premodern cartographic and geographic imagination. Rereading it now gives her a twitch, as it always does with academics trying to revisit their past work, but it’s not all bad. It won her a prize and it impressed Professor Baghra Morozova, the fearsome head of the Department of Medieval Studies at Central European University, Vienna. (Best method to survive her class: Pray.) And it’s why Alina, still feeling very, very much like a terrible fraud – though she’s been assured this is likewise common to academics, so yay? – is working late in the main library on Quellenstraße, stifling yawns. She has a supervision meeting tomorrow, and if she half-asses this, Baghra will eat her alive.

Alina has been working for a while, pausing only to slug lukewarm coffee from her travel mug and answer texts from her flatmate Genya, when she becomes aware that there’s some other late-night diehard skulking in the stacks. This isn’t uncommon, but this guy doesn’t look like your usual desperate slacker. He’s tall, lean, and elegant, wearing a black shirt and crisp slacks, and – Alina has eyes, sue her – he’s extremely good-looking. Thick dark hair with a bit of a curl, a sharp dark gaze, and although he has his own stack of books, he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to any of them. In fact, he is looking – a little unsettlingly – directly at her.

Oh, hell. Alina hasn’t spoken to him before, but she knows who this is. Aleksander Morozov is an urban legend at CEU, for rather ominous reasons. He is rumored to be in some indeterminate year of his own PhD, but disappears at long stretches for “research trips,” and nobody is any the wiser about what he’s actually doing on them. Noting the similarity of surname, Alina once asked Baghra if they were related, and got a face that looked like someone had died. “Unfortunately,” her supervisor said, lips pursed, “he is my son. But I assure you, his presence on this campus has nothing whatever to do with me.”

Understanding that familial relations were, to say the least, chilly, Alina hasn’t pushed it. She’s also not sure what to make of her professor’s estranged (and disturbingly attractive) offspring sitting here and watching her study, as if he has nothing better to do than haunt first-year PhD students like the Ghost of Bad Decisions Yet To Come. At last, she gets up and marches over. Keeping her voice at librarian-approved levels, she hisses, “Excuse me, can I help you?”

She speaks in English, the lingua franca of CEU, though the Morozovas are political exiles from the Putin regime, like White Russians fleeing the Bolsheviks once upon a time. Alina herself is ancestrally Russian – born in Moscow, adopted by a nice British couple out of an orphanage and raised in suburban Sussex – and as Aleksander Morozov flicks those onyx eyes up at her, she can sense him weighing how to respond. As if he wants to test her, examine her bona fides, and Alina’s Russian is limited to “da,” “privyet,” and “dosvidaniya.” Not that he should know that. Not that he should know anything about her.

“Good evening,” he answers, also in English. His Received Pronunciation is even more posh than hers. “I wasn’t aware that I was disturbing you.”

“You’re – ” Alina wrestles with herself, tells herself not to be rude. It’s not a crime to sit and watch someone study, even in a mildly creepy fashion. “You’ve just been watching me for, like, an hour now.”

“Ah.” He doesn’t apologize or explain why that might be. He sits back in his chair, studying her like a piece of rare porcelain. “My apologies, Miss Starkov.”

Alina glances at him again, despite herself. There’s an undeniable thrill at actually talking to the campus heartthrob, even if the reason for it leaves something to be desired. She should say something else, when she becomes aware that he’s addressed her by name, and she doesn’t remember introducing herself. That doesn’t exactly do anything to convince her that he’s not a stalker. A little uneasily, she says, “How do you know my name?”

“You’re my mother’s student, aren’t you?” He cocks his head. “Alina?”

“I – yes.” That does explain it, although she didn’t realize the two of them were on speaking terms, or that they discussed her. Her name sounds unusual in his mouth, deliberate in a way nobody has spoken it before, and all at once, he gets to his feet. He stands several inches taller than her, and he starts piling his books into his bag, as if to discreetly absent himself now that she’s noticed him. “You don’t – ” she starts. “I didn’t mean to – ”

He looks at her again, sidelong. Then he says, “I should go home and get some sleep. I’m returning to Oxford tomorrow morning anyway.”

“Oxford?”

“I went to school there.” He utters a short, dry laugh. “All the good Russians do. And they live in Londongrad.”

That explains the accent, at least, and he seems to have some other business there, whether it’s another of the “research trips” or a guest lecture or whatever else. (Alina hasn’t seen his CV, but she has a sneaking feeling it’s the kind of thing to make her throw her drafts in the trash and never do anything in academia again.) Despite herself, she’s curious, and even though she has just told him to get lost, kind of, she wants to know. “Will you be back?”

Aleksander Morozov studies her with utter, unblinking intensity, as if he sees past flesh and bone, blood and sinew, to the very core of her, something that even she does not fully comprehend. Then he shrugs, his eyes never leaving her face, until Alina feels a shiver travel down her from head to toe, cold and powerful, twisting in her stomach. “Perhaps I will. Good night, Miss Starkov.”

With that, he nods to her, then turns on his heel, vanishing into the shadows as effortlessly as if he is made from them. No sound, no breath. Simply there one moment, and gone the next. Alina rubs her eyes, but she is alone in the library. Just as she wanted. Wasn’t it?

She can’t help her eyes from searching for him, or rather the vanished impression of him, the flutter of a curtain after someone has left the room. Before she can stop it, she has the thought that he very much is a map of his own, a path that leads into a strange dark land beyond the boundaries of the known world, a dragon or a doorway, a dream of what could be. Maybe something entirely ordinary. Maybe something not.

Alina shivers again, and returns to her carrel. She sits down and pulls the next book toward her, forcing her tired eyes to focus. Just because Aleksander Morozov – Aleksander Morosov – is a map, albeit the strangest one she has ever seen, it does not mean she needs to follow where he leads. She knows damn well the danger.

(And yet, despite herself, she wants to.)

#fic prompts #darklina #was this more than 500 words #yes #yes it was #anyway more prompts later #but this will do for now #mearcatsreturns #ask

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paranaturalpop · 4 years ago

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I rate your pnat ships by how well they work as foils

I’m Professor Pops, welcome to Literature 405: comparing and contrasting in pnat ships. Love is in the air but all that really matters is narrative symmetry!

Mina and Agent Day (submitted by @anxanhh)

two women on missions who need a confidante.

Mina is a calculating woman of science with a tender, vulnerable heart deep down that she guards. Day is a fun, giggly love goddess but beneath the surface she is just as calculating.

They are both focused on their prospective goals to the point of subterfuge.

They have similar missions, to solve the many mysteries of Mayview, but they’re at odds instead of working together. Will these lone wolves learn to let their walls down and work towards a common goal?

Their spectral energies are complementary colors!!!!!!!!!!!!

9/10 so different yet so alike. They should kiss and also develop as people.

Spendcia

Where's that post about paranatural having what my hero academia wants?

These two had interacted in cannon only once before we found out they were dating, power move on Zack’s part

The cousinhood and the consortium seem to have bad blood…. Enemies to lovers????

As teachers, Garcia is tired and phoning it in while spender is energetic and committed. But when it comes to mystery solving Spender is burning himself out while Garcia keeps him grounded.

Garcia does things like pack spender lunches with little hearts drawn on the bag but was surprised to be called his boyfriend. He acts chill but inside he is deeply invested in spender but also knows about spender’s isolating tendencies.

8/10 there's a reason these two have been off and on again for 6ish years, they’re walking a tightrope of vulnerability.

Imaax (submitted by Rubyya)

The Destiel of Paranatural. No I will not elaborate.

Here’s a pnat history lesson, the original ship name was Maxaac, but Zack weighed in on twitter with a much better alternative: Imaax. Also sometimes called Team Lightning Rod.

Black and blue colors, just like the emotional bruises they leave on the people around them.

Isaac wants to be seen as heroic and Max wants to be seen as aloof. It presents in different ways but deep down they both really care what other people think.

They both fear sincerity. Isaac protects himself with theatrics and Max with sarcasm.

Isaac puts on a big show of having strong ethics but he’s a little mean on instinct. Max puts on a big show of cutting people down with his snark and devil-may-care attitude, but when push comes to shove he’s kind and cares how other people feel.

Max immediately insults every person he meets and they still want to be best friends with him, while Issac tries so hard to be cool and nice but people just can’t stand him.

The meta tension between Isaac, who wants so badly to be the protagonist, and Max “magnetic personally” Puckett who is exhausted with being the protagonist, is delicious.

There’s a reason official art tends to portray them together. They bring out the best in each other. Isaac brakes through Max’s performative pessimism and Max brings Isaac down to earth.

10/10 these two were written as a pair and it shows.

Suzabel (submitted by Rubyya)

One of my fav tropes is ‘enemies to friends’ where the enemy part is completely one-sided. Isabel probably thinks she and Suzy get along great.

Both the heads of their respective clubs, but with very different leadership styles.

Isabel only studies her grandfather's spectral style to please him and is a near master of it, while Suzy is incredibly self-motivated even though her actual skills are lacking.

Isabel is at a crucial time in her life where she’s learning to distance herself from adult authority figures in order to take on more personal responsibility. Suzy is already blazing with independence and could help her adjust.

Inversely, Isabel could teach Suzy a thing or two about treating your club members with respect and doing the emotional labor necessary to prevent future conflict.

Red and pink! Valentines colors!

Isabel could kill you but would never, Suzy would actually try to kill you.

Investigative reporter/person living mysterious double life is a great dynamic.

Back when Izzy had Eightfold they had the ship name ‘Paper Girls’ which is awesome

7/10 Don’t ask me how I know this but they would kill at karaoke together. And they’re ok foils.

Bullymagnet

Max ‘too cool for clubs’ vs a boy who defines himself by his tight knit group.

Max is learning to be less passive aggressive and johnny is learning to be less aggressive aggressive.

Max’s entry to spectral life was when he injured Johnny and saw a shade of a doctopi on him, and Johnny's first shade was Max's doctopi after the hit ball game.

Johnny refuses to commit to not bullying max anymore even though he really likes him, and max is working on being nicer but he’s still gonna be snarky with people even though they’re his friends. Old habits die hard.

If he hadn't seen that shade, Max might have joined Johnny's gang. He has the style, the stunts, the snark.

8/10 Just two bros whose lives are changing forever.

Isaac and Dimitri (submitted by Rubyya)

Here’s my pitch for a ship name: Brainstorm

Orange and blue are complementary colors.

Isaac hurt Dimitri accidentally somehow. Hurting others accidentally is the central theme of chapter 5.

Idealist/pragmatist is a classic dynamic

They both have relationships with their spirit partners that are rooted in fear.

Dimitri’s self concept is overly dependent on his sense of intellectual superiority, and Isaac’s on ethical superiority.

7/10 have not directly interacted in the comic yet but the narrative symmetry is there

Johnny and Isabel (submitted by Rubyya)

Burnhound Vs Shockadile

These two are natural leaders who know how to treat their friends with respect.

These jocks are both lethal weapons, but while Isabel is a master martial artist, Johnny is a passionate but blunt instrument.

They’re both going through similar identity crises.

Isabel is struggling to reconcile her violent and disciplined upbringing with a good, gentle heart and Johnny is trying to reconcile his violent and self-centered lifestyle with a developing respect and empathy for other people.

Johnny dies his hair red, so he would think it’s cool how Izzy emits a fiery red aura when excited.

8/10 there's a reason these two were the team leaders in the hit ball arch.

Violet and Lisa (submitted by Rubyya)

People have been theorizing about what kind of cryptid Lisa is since day one meanwhile Violet gives off big normie energy.

Lisa is very plugged into all the Mayview weirdness as the queen of the school underground, while Violet was the only person who thought to go get a teacher during the hit ball arch. Lisa was also the only one who really spoke openly about how something was clearly very wrong with Jeff, everyone else talked around it and played by the so called ‘rules’. Lisa’s secret brokering Vs. Violet’s ‘sunlight is the best disinfectant’ attitude presents two different approaches to trying to survive in a school run by a mysterious shadow organization within a town that contains several other mysterious shadow organizations.

“If you were, I’d have to be jealous too.” just two middle schoolers pinning over their crushes.

7/10 two girls against the world.

Isaac and Johnny

ship name: Firestorm?

Just 2 fiery redheaded mediums with anger management issues that command primal forces and wanna be best friends with max

Johnny chooses to have red spiky hair, Issac has had red spiky hair thrust upon him.

Both met Maxwell Pucket and decided they needed to change for the better.

I’ve said this before but Johnny and Issac have equal and opposite philosophies. Johnny doesn't care about the greater good, he just cares about a small group of people who he loves. Issac cares about the greater good, but can’t connect with individuals and ends up hurting them. Together they form one GoodTM boy.

Both their spirit partners want revenge on Spender. This spells trouble.

If there’s anyone to teach Isaac about unconditional friendship, it’s Johnny

Isaac has sworn off violence and Johnny worships at the altar of it.

9/10 they’ve only interacted in canon once so far but I’ve think we’ve got a big storm coming.

Suzy and Collin (submitted by Rubyya)

The Bakudeku of pnat. I will continue to not elaborate.

Suzy once stole Collin's phone which prompted Collin to try to cut her hair which prompted Suzy to stab Collin and at no point did either of them think to move to a different bus seat. As different as they are they are also very much the same.

Collin is the definition of mouth service (constantly disapproving of suzy’s antics but going along with it anyway.) while suzy is all action.

Despite their different attitudes they both seem genuinely passionate about the journalism club.

Fashion icons. Suzy’s sunglasses and legwarmers, Collins sweater vests and wrist bands, this duo could walk for Paris fashion week: middle school edition.

We’ve gotten an indication that Collin cares a lot about what Suzy thinks of him (taking off his wrist bands when she made fun of Max's) but we haven't gotten any sign yet that the feelings are mutual.

5/10 I think their story is yet to be told and we’ll get to know more about how they compare/contrast to each other in the future. Maybe brought on by Dimitri's betrayal?????

Cody and Isabel (Submitted by @a-bitchtm)

Cody is gay by WOG but that doesn't matter here since we are evaluating thematic compatibility, not romantic compatibility.

Red Vs. Blue

Izzy’s arch about stepping into her role as leader through communication and honesty contrasts Cody’s role as the secret class president. Izzy finally told Isaac the truth about the consortium, while Cody blatantly lied to max about being president.

Both seem to have generally good motivations and the skills/talent to back those motivations up.

Isabel is in the process of unlearning the ‘firm hand’ philosophy that she learned from her grandpa and Cody’s dad straight up tried to mind control him into murdering a toddler.

They were both taught to fall back on their capacity for violence and intimidation but those teachings conflict with the people they really want to be.

6/10 just two kids who are being led astray by authority figures trying to learn to be themselves.

Cody and Collin (Submitted by @gatortavern)

They both like vests.

Both beholden to blood thirsty predators

Collin is a journalist, Cody is a vampire/leader of the shadow government. It’s a huge power move on Cody’s part to hang out with Collin.

Cody’s support of his friends is enthusiastic while Collin would have you believe Suzy has kidnapped him.

4/10 they hang out for a reason but those reasons have yet to be fully developed

Isabel and Max (submitted by @Paranatural-goofiness)

They’re both people who have learned to put up walls to keep people out. Isabel through violence and intimidation, max through sarcasm and mockery. T

he other side of this is their mutual journey to let their walls down and connect with other people more genuinely, starting with each other.

Their search for acceptance and identity has led them both to become incredible athletes. Spectral fist martial arts = shred eagle stunts

As we saw in the hit ball game, Izzy faces things head on while Max is all about evasion. However we’ve seen how Izzy has actually learned to be evasive and guarded about her feelings while Max is a little more forthcoming.

8/10 Never has there been faster friends.

Isaac and Cody (submitted by Rubyya)

Drama kings

Isaac wants the likability Cody has.

Parallels of power: Isaac with power he didn't choose and cant control vs. Cody who also didn’t choose to have his power (elected), but wields it like an instrument.

Involuntary anime hair and involuntary glowing monster eyes

These two definitely both fall under the category of “lawful”.

I can see these two ending up on opposite sides of a conflict because they both have such rigid personal codes and an intense sense of duty.

I know I’ve been approaching almost all of these platonically but Isaac probably really wants a cool vampire boyfriend deep down

7/10 Unstoppable force, meet immovable object. You two should watch anime together.

Hijack and PJ (submitted by @gatortavern)

They both wanna join the activity club so bad

Both have immature ideas about heroism and villainy.

Both aspire to heroism while at the same time understanding that they aren't that yet and maybe never will be.

They both, like many people in this comic, wanna be friends with max.

5/10 Two supernatural babies who should play wii sports together

Stephen and Isaac (@Gatortavern)

Two boys who are easily overwhelmed

Lawful vs. chaotic

Isaac has enough secrets to give Stephen his conspiracy fix for a long time.

In their own ways they both just want everything out in the open.

Isaac is Stephen's dream, someone actually living a secret double life, and Stephen is Issac's dream, someone with a cool scar who would think he’s actually very interesting.

5/10 these two are both very intense in their own way.

Johnny and Ed (Submitted by @theevilbrainman)

Two souls lost in the wind

Two people for whom friendship and loyalty is central to their character, and they’re both struggling with personal growth because of it. Johnny is afraid to change because his friends have always liked the person he already is, and Ed is struggling to even define himself outside of Isabel, the person he cares about the most.

Both impulsive and uninhibited.

They both live lives free from expectation. Johnny’s wild bully persona means no one is surprised by his antics or cruelty, while Grandpa Guerra doesn't really care if Ed takes up phantom fist like Isabel. He actually calls him a freeloader. Not having much expected of you can feel free but it’s also lonely and can warp your self-perception.

6/10 these two crossed paths at exactly the right time.

I didn't cover every submission because even though only 9 people submitted you sent in 34 ships between you. Pnat’s fanbase is small but very dedicated.

Honorable mentions:

Johnny and clear sinuses, submitted by @gaul-the-unmitigated

Isaac and therapy, submitted by both @squidgeons and @somethingfishysgoingon

PJ and Johnny, submitted by @gatortavern, who seems to be under the impression that Johnny Would protect PJ and not destroy him just by breathing near him.

Day and Scabs, submitted by @gatortavern, because funny.

Special thanks to everyone who sent in ship between people who have never interacted in cannon, which was a lot of you. My eyes are opened now, so many possibilities.

#paranatural #pnat #q #ships #valentines #dr. zarei/agent day #imaax #spendcia #suzabel #bullymagnet #shipping #pnat spoilers

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viviae · 5 years ago

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The Red Plague: An Analysis

Ok, I’m to preface this that I am not at ALL a student of medicine or science I am just a humble blogger who really likes diseases, literary analysis, and the science behind death. This will also be a STUPIDLY long post so I am letting you all live by putting it behind a readmore this time

This goes without saying but there is a content warning to this. I’m talking about death, stages of decay, rotting, corpses, vomit, and other gross medical stuff. There will be NO images however. I subjected myself to viewing those images and I will not condemn you all to view them.

I’m going to start this off making sure everyone is on the same page and post an image from the art book about the Red Plague itself

So let’s start with the canonical facts about the plague first

Average life expectancy was 3-7 days once symptoms show, Averages are also liars which means it could’ve taken a little bit more than 7 days or under 3 days to die.

Spread by the plague beetles, exact method of transfer is unknown but Julian was force fed one and contracted the plague however they are safe to keep in containment.

Plague beetles also infected nonhuman objects like the water supply which is shown as a thick ichor. This ichor no longer possesses infectious properties at the time of the story

Julian believed that it had to do with a corruption in the blood hence the usage of leeches

The Lazarus started as a containment center before becoming a crematorium, meaning people believed that it was spread from contact or things like that

HOWEVER This is not the first appearance of the plague as it would show up at locations Lucio stayed for too long but no note if it spread from these locations.

It’s not a disease, its a curse.

So, this is one nasty plague on our hands. Most diseases that are this lethal would never be able to spread as much as it did unless it could spread from corpse contact or through other means like a carrier. I think that it could be spread through a combination of both which would add an additional need for cremation.

Corpse Disposal & Spreading

Historically during plagues you would simply toss bodies into mass graves or ‘plague pits’. This would be, substantially, easier than what they do in Vesuvia. Cremation is not an easy process and is an art form. The heat needed for a cremation alone is incredibly hot and needs special methods to be contained. Not to mention the tedious cleaning process to make sure ashes don’t damage the heat element. So you are telling me that Vesuvia... went through the process of rowing away their dead to the middle of a lake to do mass cremations because it was the easiest? Yes they would’ve run out of grave space a while ago but no one is saying they can’t go make a plague pit out in the woods for half the work.

Now granted, I understand the imagery of making Asra wade through bodies of rotting corpses to find the apprentice’s bloated corpse is uh,,, graphic. Or making us stumble upon an open plague pit of bones in the woods with you LI is not what most people call romantic. (you’re welcome for that image) So they could’ve just made mass cremations on a separate island for tone reasons but that’s BORING.

Not a lot of diseases are actually capable of surviving in dead body simply because when we die our bodies lose the necessary high heats for them to multiply and survive. But this isn’t a disease in a traditional sense, its a curse to Lucio. And this is Lucio we are talking about, some one who is famously afraid of death and dying, which was grafted by a demon of pestilence who is obsessed with worms (cough maggot symbolism and death by disease cough). So I propose that the plague is spread in addition to plague beetles but by dead bodies themselves. This would put additional pressure on proper corpse disposal and the need for cremation. This fact would also explain why plague doctors were present at the boats leading to the Lazarus instead of simple plague carters (rowers?) as doctors would probably have to keep a closer eye on proper disposal of bodies.

As for how I think the beetles themselves spread the plague, I think it’s probably in a similar way as to how Lyme Disease is spread. I can’t name any disease that is spread by beetles themselves off the top of my head but ticks are pretty similar to beetles (I am not an entomologist). Lyme disease is spread by infected ticks biting into the hosts skin and regurgitating its stomach contents that includes the bacterium for the disease.

This would explain why Julian got the plague pretty awful real quick. He consumed all of the plague beetle’s contents and Lucio didn’t have to try and force a beetle to bite Julian, which would’ve given Julian time to fight back. This is also working with the fact Lucio got bit by a plague beetle when running from Morga in his tale. He most likely contracted the plague, or perhaps he contracted the curse then and later on got re bit, in that bite. This would also explain the ichor that infects the water in the south end. Beetles are significantly larger than ticks, and so they might have a need to empty their stomach contents more and its more waste produced.

Symptoms and Inspirations

The Red Plague is obviously, influenced by the Bubonic Plague in terms of symptoms and Tuberculous in treatment. I will list some of the common symptoms of Black Plague and signs and be comparing these to the Red Plague. I cannot stress enough that I do not have any knowledge in medicine but I don’t think the dev’s are all doctors so we are on even ground.

There are generally speaking three types of plagues; Bubonic (Most common type of The Black Plague and mainly targets your lymphatic system), Pneumonic (When the Plague enters and infects the lungs), and Septicemic (When the plague enters the blood stream, either form can lead to Septicemic)

Bolded Symptoms are what are obvious symptoms the Red Plague has taken from these three variations of plague. Italic is Lucio specific.

High Fevers

Chills

Headache

Muscle Pain

Weakness

Seizures

Swollen black lymph nodes known as Buboes (Bubonic)

Internal Bleeding (Septicemic)

Gangrene (Septicemic)

Shock (Septicemic)

Vomiting Blood (Bubonic & Septicemic)

Coughing Blood & Mucus (Pneumonic)

Shortness of breath (Pneumonic)

The Red Eyes

By far the most obvious symptom of the plague and its trademark. Consider this the equivalent of Buboes to the black plague. This is the first obvious symptom that marks you for dead and probably one of the first symptoms to show after a possible resting phase.

Apparently it takes each eye individually as seen with Julian or it may not take both? The stage we see Julian in isn’t the clearest but I’m assuming he was rather early on with a pretty serious case.

It’s also a debate of what exactly is going on with the red stringy bits under neath the eyes. For the sprite models it appears to be veins under the eyes that have been aggravated. While in the concept art above it has a more liquid and viscous look which is probably blood. And in Julian’s CG of him dying of the plague he has no marks around his eyes. So I’m saying its a fun combo of all of the above.

Essentially I think that the plague is causing the blood vessels in the eyes to pop and do serious damage. There can also be a foreign growth to occur behind the eyes or just magical nonsense, doing additional damage to the veins surrounding the eyes and cause bleeding from putting stress on the veins.

The Arms and Lower Extremities

Ok, remember how I talked about Lucio’s fear of death and how its incredibly likely that the plague is manipulating his fear? In death there are various stages of decay, and different functions occur at each stage. And one of these functions is Livor Mortis.

Livor Mortis is when your blood cells rupture out of your veins and die. These dead blood cells sink down to your body based off of gravity where they settle. This is seen as a purple color on the skin based on gravity, normally the back. This can be disrupted by any disruption to the body, but depending on time you are likely to receive lighter marks based on its previous position.

What I think is going on all over the body is veins are rupturing and the body is going through an extreme form of living Livor Mortis. Just that it’s in red and not purple because this is the “Red Plague” and not the purple plague. And due to the patients still being alive when Livor Mortis is occurring it simply pools into the extremities instead of one specific location, with the fingers and bottom of the foot being the most severe. To add to the veins popping suddenly the subtle bruising through origin points to where the red vein-y look begins remind me of my own experience of having four veins burst in my arm.

Julian had reason to believe he could use leeches to treat the plague and in typical plague doctor fashion of “They were right but not exactly” he was on the right track! Using leeches to drink the settled and dead blood would be beneficial to the patient. As likely leaving these areas to accumulate dead blood would put it at serious risk of rot, since maggots first grow on open wounds and areas affected by Livor Mortis.

Julian might not have been curing the plague but what he was probably doing is preventing a lot of people from developing gangrene and needing amputations. A beneficial skill for a previous combat medic to utilize and what might have drawn additional attention to him. Julian’s uses of leeches could also explain why Lucio does not have any of these red marks since Julian is his personal doctor and Lucio would spare no expense for his treatment.

Lucio’s Unique Symptoms

Portia’s route mentions that due to Lucio’s longer surviving time he developed unique symptoms. We don’t know much details about this besides he was extra miserable and was confined to his bedroom most the time. From my provided list above I think that generally speaking the Red Plague is a combination of Bubonic + Septicemic plagues.

However, Pnuemonic plagues were considered especially deadly, but rarer. Lucio is described as having a cough when he has the plague and generally a wheezy voice. It wouldn’t be odd to think the plague had spread into his lungs due to the increase longevity he had.

There is a dramatic irony in Lucio losing his lungs to sickness as well. Morga tells us about how when Lucio was very young he almost drowned and that instilled a fear of death in him at a young age. He’s also a man with a lot of stamina who can run in the freezing cold carrying a fully grown apprentice on his shoulder or run away from Morga who also possesses a lot of energy. Lucio has trained his lungs to be stronger more so than the average person, and now with his downfall he loses them.

It goes along with his general want of having a new body as well. You can rebuild muscle mass although hard, but recovering from illnesses that target your lungs? You’ll almost never get back to the same degree you previously were.

The imagery of the dead is also present in the animal itself used to spread the plague. Although the beetle comes from Lucio’s tribe, beetles play a role in decomposition. Beetles like to come after the body has been nearly completely rotten, after the maggots and wasps consume most of the dead flesh beetles come in and eat the scraps. Beetles are also used in skeletonizing items, one example I think of off my head is a man who had his amputated foot skeletonized by beetles for keeping. So these beetles are coming in and spreading a plague that forces the body to go through stages of decay while living, for their own food. Just like Lucio’s tribe came in and slaughtered other tribes for their own need to eat.

The plague was handcrafted to torture Lucio for his inability to finish his end of the deal. That’s why it uses imagery of dead bodies, it steals Lucio’s lungs from him, and why even the dead can cause severe damage.

Of course this is all my own theory and analysis of the plague but thank you for reading all of this.

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vaguely-concerned · 4 years ago

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The Mandalorian Chapter 12 rewatch thoughts

- I would like to thank them for keeping in din’s harried yet triumphant ‘hAH!!’ when he gets the explosives to stick to gideon’s ship in the ‘hey remember when this happened last season’ section, that was a nice gesture from the showrunners to me personally, I assume

- this episode actually helped me find more enjoyment in the last one, because it’s such a nice reassurance that even though they’re pulling in more stuff from other star wars media this show won’t suddenly stop being its own thing and mando won’t suddenly stop being himself and it’s very comforting to me somehow haha

- the small hesitation before din calls out “do you... do you have the wire?” lol lol lol he’s completely aware of the bizarreness of what he’s doing here but hey being alive is already so damn weird etc.

the softness of his voice the whole way through and the fact that he never, never blames the baby for not being able to do what shouldn’t really be asked of him in the first place, tho... ;____;

- the tiny exasperated head tilt din does when he realizes the hatch isn’t going to extend all the way fdslkfhasdlashfs

- din is looking down at the baby the entire time while greef talks to the mechanics ❤️❤️❤️

(the baby seems pretty drawn to/excited to see greef again and mando seems to notice which is extremely cute. he’s becoming really good at tuning in with the kid)

he also greets cara baby first in much the same way as he does peli, like he knows what the main attraction here is lol, they do a very sweet bro nod at each other. god I wish gina carano wasn’t so terrible imagine if we could just have this BrOTP without hesitations :(

I think greef is actually a bit worried to begin with after seeing the ship, he sort of takes din in intently before he huffs a little laugh and grabs his arm. it must be a bit stressful to be his friend and not be able to see his expression right away when you worry something might be seriously wrong haha

- people are finally treating the baby like you would a real baby and it’s such a blessing, everyone talking and cooing at him and baby babbling back

(I wonder if greef has children of his own? he does have an undeniable air of experienced grandpa about him in this episode, it’s adorable)

- din does so much talking -- unprompted, even! -- these days, it truly is an embarrassment of riches

- capital E Emotional about this shot with IG-11 right behind din and cara inviting him into the school in front of him. some past carried with us into the future shit going on here

IG-11′s legacy’s still got our back y’all :’) I swear to god if gideon blows up nevarro at some point I’m going to lose it

the ‘oh yeah?/that so?’ way din leans his head back after she says “wait until you see inside” is also amazing

- baby reaching out his hand like ‘can have?’ is so polite ;______; he takes after his father (including in the ‘fool me twice, I’ll fuck you up’ department haha. listen you get one chance to be cool about it and then no more mr nice mando/baby)

go ahead, kid, make a fuss about it. who are you going to tell, huh? who’s going to believe you? you gonna tell them you got bested by a baby? a magic baby? no? that’s right. I took your dignity as easily as I took your macarons, there’s nothing you can do to change it, and now you gotta live with that. sweet dreams.

(this is a joke. the baby is not evil. I hate that I even have to specify this but I’ve seen some stupid shit in the tags in my time you guys haha)

- I can’t work out what anything on greef’s desk is supposed to be, but if that’s a computer it’s got to be older than even the razor crest lol

- friends: din yes?

mando: din no, only repairs

friends: din yes please?

mando: ... [sigh] din yes

he truly has next to no defense against people he actually likes asking him for something huh lol. well a self care co-op mission clearly did him a world of good in this one at least it’s all fine

- “I’m starting to dehydrate, Boss” is an excellent line and delivered perfectly, I cackle every time (”You park your gills right there until I say otherwise” is a good runner up too)

- it’s so nice to see the small moments of communication between them in this one after mando was so out of sync with the team in the last one (and tbf those guys didn’t even try to give him any pointers at all, they really left him to flounder through the whole thing if you watch it carefully haha)

- the mythrol’s jacket still looks so comfy, I want one

- aaaaah the way din says “I don’t like this” is just so... hnnngh it’s perfect, there’s a vulnerability and openness to it for a moment. greef glances over at him like he hasn’t heard him sound like this before too, which just sells it even more

u ok bro?

you know shit’s fucked up when din djarin expresses an emotion without even being forced to by circumstance (I think what I mean is that it’s actually really rare for him to state how he feels about something just to do it, usually his communication is more practically oriented, more along ‘I think this is the best cause of action because of a and b’ lines, or like when he tells omera he’s grateful it’s... more to inform her of it and make sure she knows than to express himself? but he’s starting to do it more with people he trusts now and it gets me in the heart? man I’m finding this hard to articulate let’s move on lol)

- I really, really wonder about pershing’s position in all of this. his plea for the child’s life did sound genuine -- he did try to guard him with his own noodly scientist body when he thought din was out to hurt him, remember -- but is that only because he knows he’s in deep shit himself without the blood the baby can give? is he maybe not quite cool with whatever gideon has him doing? (he does sound quite strained when he talks about the ‘body’ rejecting the transfusion and the ‘volunteer’ potentially suffering the same fate... hm.)

idk why I want there to be something redeemable in him so bad, maybe it’s just my weird yet enduring attachment to ladon radim in stargate atlantis messing with me they’re kind of similar in some ways (yeah don’t ask me I don’t know either sometimes the heart wants what it wants in ways reason can’t explain)

- tfw ur literally launching yourself across a pool of boiling lava because you’re Dad and your baby’s in danger T__________T he just does not stop running towards that kid for even a single second help

- there’s something so innocently pure and... old fashioned? about the scene with mythrol and greef screaming the entire time they drive off the cliff, it feels like something out of a movie from like three decades ago. that whole segment feels a bit like that, it’s just there to be fun and that’s okay sometimes

- every dog fight in every movie should have a baby nonchalantly snacking on a cookie in them, it elevates the experience immeasurably (he squishes his nose a little bit with the macaron when he misses his mouth at one point, which is more than anyone should be expected to bear honestly)

I love that even all fixed up again the razor crest groans and creaks like an old tired thing when din makes it flip to dive, he 100% did take out a bunch of ferraris in his stalwart morris minor of a spaceship and I treasure him

- there’s so much life and emotion in din’s voice here I can’t!!!! I simply can’t!!!! imagine if we get to hear him openly laugh one day, would I even survive it??!!!!

also the kid makes such pitch perfect ‘having my lil nose wiped and whining about it’ baby noises when din uses his cape to clean him up (din does turn the autopilot on before he turns around to deal with it, for those who, like me, worry about these things)

- between carson showing up and the stuff the droid talks about in the lesson they’re doing quite a bit of outer rim vs. core worlds theme building in this one, I wonder if this is going to ramp up more or what

- god but gideon’s theme SLAPS tho

he’s probably going to try to fuck up everything I love but you can’t fault him on the tunes he’s going to do it to

#star wars #the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian meta #and now off to bed like I should have been half an hour ago lol

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hawaiian-has-moved · 4 years ago

Note

you aren’t cannon. beetlebabes is more cannon than you. at least that shit was in the musical and movie and cartoon.

Need I remind you idiots, since I have already said I'm no longer being nice to you anymore.

That I do not give a damn what you think it looked like to you in that fucked up brain of yours, it's still p*dophilia. Man it's almost sad I live this rent free in your head for existing. I just exist and your blood boils. It's cute.

Anyway, Lydia is a minor in every version.

And if you think the wedding in the movie was romantic. Man every gross man I've cringed at for being a creepo must have been true love.

But see, that's the thing you people don't get huh? Consent. Consent does not exist to you. If it did you wouldn't fight when people say that Lydia is a minor and therefore cannot consent. It doesn't click because you found something hot about shipping this developing teen with this old as fuck perv.

But oh? Is that not enough for you, you cry, begging to justify your vile ship. Allow me to humor you and go through the other versions.

In fact! I'll analyze a whole song just for you.

Also please look at yet another picture of Lydia obviously not having it.

Way back when I was just ten

Simple and sweet

Everywhere, fellas would stare

Out on the street

And I felt used

Kinda confused

I would refuse to look in their eyes

But now I really love creepy old guys

This is kinda obvious, she's been preyed on before by men. So basic p*do trying to gr**m a kid scenario. But the satire to the song of course is that "it's all fine now" Which it's obviously not, she's just using this to trick him so they can send him back as an end goal.

We all do!

Gum disease

Skin like grilled cheese

Saggy old asses

(Saggy old asses)

Cute and vile

Hey baby, smile

To each girl that passes

They make me blush

(Can't get enough)

Now one of 'em loves me, wants to be mine

(That's right)

Marrying my own creepy old guy!

(I'm a creepy old guy)

This is just more playing out the satire of pretending it's okay, but with Beej chiming in because he already lacks the knowledge that this is grooming and it's not okay. Tricking him into thinking this is fine to end up killing him is a breeze.

My creepy old guy, my creepy old guy

I'm so happy I could cry

Girls may seem disgusted, but we're actually just shy

It's not uncommon that I've heard about or heard someone get told that they're just shy when a gross ass old man or someone is trying to gr**m a kid. It's gaslighting and manipulation in most cases. So for them to say that it's because they're actually just shy as part of the satire is the point.

My creepy old groom (creepy old groom)

Play that wedding tune

Hey folks, step aside

(I am older, but I'm glad I waited)

And if you've watched a bootleg, you would recall Barbara right here smiling and then turning away with eyes wide, like "this is not fucking okay" Kind of look on her face. But yeah this is another one of those phrases that you hear too often in these gross situations.

'Cause here comes the bride

I am marrying my creepy old guy

(Creepy old guy, creepy old guy, creepy old guy)

He's my creepy old guy

(Creepy old guy, creepy old guy, creepy old guy!)

Fix his hair

Get him prepared

For Armageddon

Again if you have seen a bootleg, here Lydia puts a finger to her lips and goes shhhh. Because Armageddon is Beejs death.

Sure, the groom

Crawled out of a tomb

But hey, hey, it's a wedding!

He's really fucking old guys. There is a huge age gap and this is p*dophilia.

So dim the lights

Pick up some rice

Say something nice

It's my day to shine

I'm getting hitched to my creepy old guy

(It's showtime)

Creepy old guy, creepy old guy

She's marrying a creepy old guy

Have you guys seen "Lolita"?

This is just like that, but fine

I have not seen Lolita, but I have been told it's similar to this who marriage scenario and is mega bad. Now if it were Lolita fashion, that is made to ward off men, so I assume it's a movie from what info I have.

Creepy old dude, creepy old dude

Our faith has been renewed

Now love is alive!

Wave your baby girl goodbye

I am walking down the aisle

I wanna see a tear in every eye as I pass by

I know that on the outside he's disgusting

And even on the inside, he's disgusting

This whole scenario is fucking vile. He's vile.

But I know that this time, I'm makin' it right

(Making it right, making it right!)

With my family by my side

O.M.G.

Dressed to a "T"

Fancy and formal

I found me a wife

L'chaim to life

This is so normal!

I was ignored

But now, I'm adored!

'Cause I extorted, tortured, and lied

Give it up for my underage bride!

They've done it, they have successfully tricked him into thinking this is okay with no funny business. But he's about to get stabbed. L'chaim to life is a nod at him being Jewish, also he had a Kippah in the DC version which backed this joke, but it fell off a lot ig so he doesn't have it now. Traditionally there was a lot of marrying women off to much older men for property and stuff, as most religions do/did tho. I was in a production of Fiddler on the roof for example and that was the whole premise.

Here comes the bride

God be glorified

I can't believe some cultures think this kind of thing's alright

My creepy old guy

Doesn't he deserve a chance at life?

Oh yeah, that's right

Yeah, that's right

So let's make him alive!

I am marrying my creepy old guy!

Guy, guy, guy, creepy old guy

Guy, guy, creepy old guy

Guy, guy

(I have chills)

Yeah!

And then they stab him and the till death do we part sign over the stage all makes sense now because the wedding vows are undone and since he's recently deceased he almost returns to the netherworld.

Etcetera etcetera... But of course you guys go tome deaf at that one when it plays if I remember right.

Oh right, the cartoon, of course, I knew just what you were thinking don't worry. You're thinking "oh well what about the comics, and the valentine cards! And and the animators who drew lewd stuff of Lydia!" Well.... Haha! Still p*dophilia! And also I have seen the infamous Lydia drawing and it's got her head shape, nose, lips, but it's not fully her. Even if it was again my first point, still p*dophilia. And yeah just because the people who worked on it drew it, doesn't make it suddenly okay. Ffs...

I couldn't even find a cartoon wedding that wasn't fan drawn to match this one. Because that doesn't exist! But I do have my favorite point to make.

Beetlejuice's look into Lydia's future in Pest O' the West.

Now why you b*bes were busy being p*dos and gr**ming kids on the internet into thinking this shit is okay, I was mastering the art of common fucking sense.

Beej makes a joking remark that he cannot see into the future while hiding from Bully the Crud, but when he does as per usual, his puns and phrases make his magic go to work. So a crystal ball appears in front of him showing the future in the images I've provided.

Lydia, doing a heaping pile of dishes as a ghost for bully and all of their kids, very unhappy and driven insane. Because imagine what being married to someone it's obviously wrong to be with would do to her mind. He hates seeing her like this, so he rushes to save her. Which he successfully does.

Toon is actually the one with canon evidence of this shit being not okay to him.

Also before anyone tries to say it, no the movie and cartoon aren't connected, she doesn't even live in Winter River in the cartoon that should have made it obvious. Besides she's like 14-16 in the movie. So I don't think she de-aged.

Lastly, two things that are off topic. I believe it's spelled canon, and before anyone goes saying fiction doesn't effect reality, I would like you to explain to me how being a Jedi is a official religion if that is so true.

See anon! I gave you my special, condescending talk that too two hours to type on my phone! You stalked me endlessly and I picked you as the special anon that, I didn't deletes ask for being a gross piece of shit in a minors ask box! Wow. That searching my name clicking on my asks, and typing out all that so I could live rent free in your head really.... Didn't work lol. I may have took two hours to type this, but I assure you I will forget about you in 2 days max. Because unlike you, I have better things to do than ship a minor with an ancient demon. Bye bye now, be sure to rant about me with pure rage to your house p*do friends so that my existence may spread further into other people's minds! Woo... Being famous is so tough. 😉

#bjrambles #ship discourse #discourse

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the-incapable-hero · 4 years ago

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Techno found himself complacent. Now, keep in mind, it's hard for that to even come close to happening. After all, complacency is a recipe for downfall. But he really couldn't help it.

He flicks the blood from his sword and finds that his victory is tainted by monotony. He could hear cheering and awe at yet another victory, though like many other times, the applause became indistinguishable from the other voices in his head that kept his every waking moment permanently barred from even the prospect of silence.

As he continues to clean his blade, he begins to stalk off so that he might wear some nicer clothes. Not that he really needed to change since he hadn't even gotten a speck on his attire. It was flashy, shure, but appearance is important in his line of work. That, and a little extra gold around the wrist never hurt anyone. Just as he was about to leave his audience and former opponent behind, he heard a voice.

"Technoblade." It sounded expectant. He turned at the mention of his alias-turned-name and saw a new arrival standing near. His method of appearance was definitely… unique. Yes, let's put it that way. If there was a way to stray from every single norm, then this guy was it. A porcelain mask decorated his face, pristine as could be and a very simple design of a smile boasted confidence. He had his sword drawn and pointed at Techno. Techno raised an eyebrow as he stared directly into the mask, unimpressed.

"Yeah? You lookin' for a duel?" Techno asked, knowing the answer would be yes. He'd seen it before and had done this whole song and dance. But he didn't want to fight. Not this guy. If he was here, then there was no way he actually had noteworthy skill. He wasn't even in the tournament.

"Of course. Why else would I have a sword?"

"Yer makin' yerself look like a fool. Tournament's over. I'm not fightin' you." Techno could see him tense up and his grip tightened around the sword.

"Yeah? And what's so wrong about an encore?"

"I have a family to feed. I'm not stayin' to fight you. You couldn't even get into a tournament like this. I wiped the floor with the competition here, you really think you'll be any different?"

"I can and will beat you."

"Dream on. I'm goin' home." And so, he left. Back turned and sword sheathed. The masked man he left behind lowered his blade and huffed. This wouldn't be the end.

_____

It had been some time, not enough in Techno's opinion, before he saw that mask again. In his defense, his outfit changed. It looked like he'd put a bit more dignity into choosing how he presented himself. Still though, Techno had refused him. This tournament was higher up in the ranks. More was at stake too. Money. Land. Lives. Illegal? Maybe. But it let Techno really let loose. Though in typical fashion, the masked man had shown up right at the end of the tournament. It was already over but here he was, pointing a sword to Techno and demanding a duel. Techno found himself sighing.

"Listen. You either have no sense of showing up on time, have no guts to be in a tournament like this, or you really just don't have skills to be here. No matter which one it is, it means you'll be like every other contestant I've beaten. So, I'll say it again: dream on. You don't have the skill." Techno didn't even let him reply this time. He didn't give him the chance. Just turned his back and left. He was doing his work and getting his pay, so why was this guy so persistent?

_____

This was where he peaked. Or not. He supposed that the sky was the limit. It probably could be too if he was able to point his blade in all of the right places. A noble's tournament. Felt good. Even, better, these guys actually made Techno pay attention. Not that he'd gotten more than a nick on the sleeve, but hey, it's the thought that counts.

And to be honest, even though he had to hold back from killing anyone, it just made it more difficult. The restrictions made it more interesting. He had to think around them. He decided he liked the noble tournaments.

Though he'd probably like this one in particular significantly more if that mask hadn't interrupted him right before his first duel. Another challenge, another rejection. Techno was starting to catch on to this pattern. If he wasn't in the tournament, then he wasn't going to duel. What could he possibly gain from fighting him? The conversation was going the same as well. Maybe this would become another constant in Techno's life. Or maybe not. Who knows.

_____

"Welcome one and all to the Greater SMP semi-annual tournament. Today, we have some very esteemed guests joining us. To list just a few, Sapnap of the Greater SMP, George of the Greater SMP, Antfrost and Badboyhalo both representing the Badlands, and many more.

"But I know why you're really here, folks. You're here to see the high ranks. The best of the best. Well they're here folks. So get ready." Techno listened to the announcer and couldn't help but smile. He was ready. He'd face off against some real competition. Looking back on it, he felt silly for thinking that he'd peaked already.

There were so many more people he had to beat in combat before he'd be satisfied.

The tournament went about how he'd predicted. The nobles here definitely put up a fight, but not enough to best him. Some came closer than others, but his sword always found its mark eventually. So when the end of the tournament began approaching, he found himself a bit winded. It was him against the other finalist. He was excited, he wouldn't lie about that. But he tried not to get his hopes too high. Best not get too eager and accidentally kill the guy. The announcer came on again.

"Our finalists, everyone. Technoblade, having clawed his way to the top with ease now sits on his fortune, ready to take down challengers.

"And our masked duelist, who until today, has refused to take part in any official tournaments. He faces off Technoblade, eager to add another win to his list." Technoblade found himself pausing at that. Masked duelist? Why was he getting a sense of deja vu?

Well lo and behold. White porcelain emerged to face Techno. He'd stuck with a similar outfit this time, but his body language had changed. He was more confident, if that were even possible.

"Oh. So it's you. You made it into a tournament, huh?" Techno asked, sounding decidedly smug. The man let out a scoff and rolled his shoulders back.

"Yup. You willing to duel me now?"

"Eh. Fine. What's your name? They didn't say it over the mic."

"Yeah, cause I didn't tell them." The masked man thought for a brief moment before his mouth under the mask split into a mischievous grin.

"What have you said every time you turned me down? 'Dream on'? Well,"

He drew his sword and slid his foot back into a ready stance.

"Call me Dream." And he lunged. Techno was quick to parry, but this Dream guy was quicker than he looked. Not to mention calculated. Every single thing he did seemed to have a purpose, and even moments when Techno thought he was about to best him, Dream would seamlessly turn his mistake into an advantage. Techno went laser focused as he found himself struggling to gain and keep a foothold. The sound of swords clashing went on for what felt like an eternity, and even as he was beginning to tire, the sound of his heart thumping in his ears and the voices (audience? He didn't know) yelling for blood put him on top of the world. He hadn't felt like this in a long time.

Though all good things must come to an end, and this good thing ended with Techno's sword frozen by Dream's neck and Dream's sword positioned to plunge into Techno's stomach. Both were heaving for oxygen and frozen in time, even the voices quieted for a handful of seconds before time was set into motion again by the announcer's voice:

"Stalemate!" Dream and Techno dropped their stance, well and truly exhausted. Dream spoke first.

"Okay, not gonna lie, that was awesome. You're a lot better than I thought you'd be."

"Oh don't get all mushy on me. You've earned your duel privileges, but only so I can learn how ta beat you."

"Oh okay, sure. Whatever. I won't let that happen. I'll win, just you wait."

"Ha, like that'd ever happen, Mr. I Refuse to Enter in Tournaments. Dream on."

"I think I will."

_____

"You look like a fish out of water." Techno remarked, looking at Dream's formal attire. Said man was stiff as a board and had his mask, still pristine as the day he met Techno, pulled completely over his face.

"Shut up. Not all of us dress like we just robbed a piglin hoard."

"Excuse me, gold is the best thing to wear and it makes me look fabulous. I'm not the one that looks like he's got glue in his joints."

"Are you two done yet?" A dry voice came from the now cracked open door, revealing the face of one of Dream's closer friends, Sapnap. After Dream's first official tournament, he'd actually found that participating in them was alright. He wouldn't tell you why, but any who knew him knew that it was because he wanted to stick by the friends he'd made at that tournament. He would definitely deny it though.

"Yeah, just waiting on this nerd." Techno said, gesturing to Dream.

"Oh shut up."

"No."

"Okay, just come on. You fought your way to the top so now you have to deal with it. Come on, get a move on." Sapnap consoles while pushing the two out of the room. They'd all seen too much of each other since then, mostly because now that they were of equal standing, they were usually going to be in the same places.

"You two argue too much." Sapnap teased. He playfully nudged Dream to get him to loosen up, but it didn't really do much.

"I mean, Dream is pretty insufferable."

"Wha- hey!"

"He's got a point."

"Oh and that's coming from Panda and Pig."

"Yer not helpin' your case, Dream." Techno pushed. Dream threw his hands in the air.

"I give up. You two are the worst." Techno stifled a laugh, determined to not show how he was warming up to Dream and his friends. He had to make sure he was at the top of his game too. There was going to be a tournament later that day which meant another chance to beat Dream at his own game. Though before another comment could be made, the room they trio was approaching suddenly erupted into shouting. Techno and Dream rushed forward and swung the doors open to find absolute chaos on the other side. Masked people with very off-looking weapons pointed at people there were ransacking the room and all of its occupants for all it was worth.

"Robbery." Sapnap mumbled under his breath. Techno looked over to Dream who looked to already be in a fighting stance. Techno followed suit. With no words exchanged, they leapt into the fray, ready to subdue the thieves. Techno managed to knock a couple out before a blade clipped his ear and he felt a white-hot sting follow it. He quickly flicked it off and slammed the head of the person who'd done that into a nearby table.

"They've got enchanted stuff!" Techno yelled to Dream on the other side of the room.

"Yeah, I got that." Dream shouted back. He was disheveled and Techno wondered why for a brief moment before he spotted that one of the guys he was fighting had donned a dangerously glinting chest plate. Thorns.

"Well, if you can't beat 'em." Techno shouted to the room before wrenching the sword that had clipped him previously from the man's limp hand. Techno would admit that he didn't have much experience with enchanted gear since unless the tournament was underground and very very illegal, enchantments were banned. Not that he ever needed the extra help anyway. Once he had a weapon in his hand though, sweeping the area was easy as pie. Dream had followed suit and grabbed a sword with what looked like sharpness enchanted into the blade. The two eventually found themselves back to back, wiping clean the room of the thieves. The people in attendance had begun to get set free as well and followed the two in clearing the space. Though they weren't able to do much since many of the attackers had already been knocked unconscious by Techno and Dream.

"Well that was fun." Dream remarked. Techno had to agree. Their numbers were indeed impressive and it proved to be an interesting challenge fighting several people at once.

Not to mention, Techno couldn't recall a time he'd fought back to back with someone. It wasn't bad. Maybe he'd try it again.

@1randomperson15 thanks for the idea! I had fun with this one. I hope you don't mind that I took a few liberties with it lol.

And to everyone else, if you have an idea you really want to see written, let me know!

#dream smp au #dream smp fanfiction #dream smp nobles au #technoblade #dreamwastaken #sapnap #dream #fanfic #fanfic request #dream smp

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dwollsadventures · 4 years ago

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Of all the Mesopotamian gods and monsters, Tiamat is the most well-known. Mostly because she is both a god and a monster. In the Akkadian religion Tiamat was originally a primordial figure, a goddess symbolizing salt water. In the beginning of the cosmos the salt water of Tiamat mixed with the freshwater of Apsu (an event actually seen in the Persian Gulf). There the two sat and slept, basking in each other's presence. There was no Earth, no Heaven, no light. Only a dark, warm swirling of water, reminiscent of both the beginning of the universe and the womb. Among the pair's offspring was Lahmu and Lahamu, who went on to give rise to the new generation of gods, the earthly and heavenly ones. Apsu planned to kill his children, as gods of the Near East are wont to do, but was slain before he could carry out the theocide. In revenge Tiamat rose up, birthed a legion of monsters (see all previous entries), and sought to carry out Apsu's original plan. In her possession she had the Tablet of Destinies, which granted the holder dominion over the cosmos, a clay "crown" of the divine right to rule. Tiamat was a terrible force to reckon with. The earthly and heavenly gods needed a hero to save them. So they called upon Anu. Or was it Enlil? No, it was Marduk! Marduk came as slew Tiamat with a club in a gruesome fashion. Her armies were summarily bound and shackled to his feet. Forevermore they would serve his as the demons and monsters of the new age. For, after the battle, Marduk took the Tablet of Destinies and Tiamat's body to make the Earth as we know it. Ribs became the firmament of heaven and earth, eyes became the gushing Tigris and Euphrates, and her coiled tail became the Milky Way. Despite being called a primordial goddess, Tiamat was probably never worshipped. She has her origins with the older Sumerian goddess Nammu. Nammu filled a very similar role to the Sumerians but never as a monstrous figure. Salt water is their connecting force, which the combined Mesopotamian religion considered both instrumental to the formation of life, as well as dangerous and terrible. Freshwater, apsu, was considered life-giving and sacred, a whole ocean of it was said to lie beneath the earth to supply it with life. Saltwater meanwhile was complementary but less inviting. It can't be drunk and it kills crops, it does not serve humanity. The life that comes from it is similar: numerous and terrifying demons. Tiamat's name is literally derived from tāmtu, meaning sea. A similar concept sharing the same origin can be found in the "tehom" of genesis.

Several recurring themes show up in Tiamat's story: that of the father of the gods looking to slay the new generation, the primordial being slayed and divided up to make the earth, but arguably the most famous, that of the god-hero slaying the primordial serpent. A theme known as "Chaoskampf" in German. Here the serpent represents /chaos/: the shapeless buildings blocks of the universe, the wide expanse of the uninhabitable cosmos, every part of the world too harsh and dangerous for humanity to survive in. As the ocean incarnate Tiamat is a perfect example of this chaos. But is she a serpent? It's a little unclear. In the Enuma Elish her form is specified once and is ambiguous. She has "a tail, a thigh, lower parts, a belly, an udder, ribs, a neck, a head, a skull, eyes, nostrils, a mouth, lips, viscera, a heart, arteries, and blood". Which... isn't all that descriptive. Excluding the udder, all those things can be found in nearly every land mammal and most reptiles. The inclusion of the udder, however, leads me to believe Tiamat is a cow. Or possibly a goat. Kidding aside (although... her being a primordial cow who brings forth saltwater from her udders wouldn't be that out of pocket for comparative mythology...), the shape most given to Tiamat is that of a serpent. Unfortunately, there doesn't appear to be any definitive depictions of her. The one most identified with her, a cylinder seal from the Neo-Assyrian period, depicts a classical usumgallu, but does not offer any positive indication that it is indeed Tiamat. Because of how unclear the description from the text is, it's unlikely the mystery will have a satisfying conclusion. In keeping with every other appearance of the chaoskampf theme and her offspring, it's probably that she assumed a serpentine form and that it was in some way a combination of many different animals as well. Though slain like a common wyvern, Tiamat remains at the forefront of the Mesopotamian religion in the modern world. Though the sea is dangerous and merciless, and the things that dwell within it are plentiful and scary, it was from it that life sprung from all those eons ago. Without Tiamat, Marduk would not exist, nor would the demons of the mountain and forest and sea, nor would I or any of you reading this. She may never have been worshipped as a proper goddess in her heyday, but she at least deserves our thanks for that most universal of gifts, life.

-- And here she is! I've drawn Tiamat once before in 2018 as part of a school project about Chaoskampf, but never her serpentine form. Unsurprisingly, it gave me a bunch of trouble. How do you draw something as huge and complex as a primordial serpent? My idea was to use a sea serpent as the base and have all the other demons represented as parts. A sort of big monster that's constantly changing, made up of the parts of all the others animals and monsters. You can sort of see her sea serpent head is based on a pike's. My initial idea was to make it in two versions as a gif, one with her "goddess" form colored in, the next with her monstrous form colored in. But it sucked. So I'd rather give the central piece the spotlight and leave the details of the sea serpent up to your imagination.

This has been a very fun, albeit slow series. Almost the most research done for a single series of anything I've done here. What's next? Probably not another long-form series, at least for a while. The actual first installment of TDG Acronym Pending is what I theoretically should be focusing on, but we'll see. Got to figure out the title before though... Have a safe holidays.

#myth stuff #mythology #mythical creatures #tiamat #dragon #goddess #dragon goddess #serpent #mesopotamian mythology #sumerian mythology #babylonian mythology #enuma elish #apsu #abzu

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rokkr-witness · 4 years ago

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Primordial Thurs: Ymir and Surtr

So this project started because quarantine has been keeping my kindred apart, so we’ve been doing zoom meetings to discuss some interesting themes in Norse Mythology. I haven’t cited all the references used for these but I hope I got enough of them. This particular work is going to talk about several important concepts, them being Chaos, creation and Destruction and how those concepts are represented by the Primordial Thurs Ymir and Surtr. I will say I’m not a scholar, and a good portion of this is UPG, take it or leave it.

Ymir

Ymir is the first of the giants in Norse mythology, he dates back to the primal times before Odin, Thor or any other God existed. He is created when the fires of muspelheim meet the ice and rime of niflheim in the ginnungagap, the void. He’s representative of the first shared Ancestor, but also the first “consciousness” to come out of Chaos. When referring to consciousness we do not mean sentience here. Thematically, Ymir is the personification of the chaos before creation, which is also depicted as the impersonal void of Ginnungagap. Both Ymir and Ginnungagap are ways of talking about limitless potential that isn’t actualized, that hasn’t yet become the particular things that we find in the world around us. His name means Screamer so connect that to birth, not just the birth of the womb but also the birth of the universe (the Big Bang).

According to Snorri Sturlson Ymir was suckled by the cow Audhumla for his nourishment, but whether this is a Christian literary device or not has been debated. It may be that Audhumla, who also licked Buri out of the ice, was introduced as a way to present a dichotomy in the myths, that being Buri, Ancestor of Odin as Good and lawful, and Ymir, primordial chaos as inherently Bad and therefore deserving of destruction. But we’ll get to that.

When he slept, several other giants were conceived asexually in Ymir’s hermaphroditic body, and spontaneously sprang from his legs and the sweat from his armpits. A man and a woman grew under his arms and a six headed son under his foot. Þrúðgelmir is the name of one son, who’s son Bergelmir is the only one to survive the ocean of Ymir’s blood after his slaying. This is accounted in the book Gylfaginning in the Prose Edda.

There is some suggestion that Buri might have been one of the beings created from Ymir’s body, and by extension so Bor and Bestla, the parents of Odin. I actually prefer this interpretation, because it removes the dichotomy of jotun = bad because they are inherently evil and the descendents of Buri, imposed(cultivated) order, are inherently good. With all beings originating from Ymir you have one source for creation and one "race" for lack of a better term, and it changes the designation of Aesir, Jotunar and vanir to a more tribal understanding, that being the family or group we choose to belong to.

Anyway, Ymir’s son Þrúðgelmir appears in the poem Vafþrúðnismál from the Poetic Edda. When Odin (speaking under the assumed name Gagnrad) asks who was the eldest of the Æsir or of the giants in bygone days, Vafþrúðnir answers:

"Uncountable winters before the earth was made,

then Bergelmir was born,

Thrudgelmir was his father,

and Aurgelmir his grandfather."

—Vafþrúðnismá

Odin, Vili and Ve, The divine brothers then slew Ymir and fashioned the realm of midgard from his corpse. His flesh made the earth, his bones the mountains, his blood the oceans and his brains the clouds. It is also during this creation that the Gods establish Utangard and Innangard by giving the giants the shoreline and using Ymir's eyelashes to build a wall between the rest of the Cosmos and Midgard- the realm of future humans. Through this the tribe of the Aesir, imposes the order necessary for life(as we understand it) to thrive and begins the push and pull between that order and the primordial chaos of the Giants. A push and Pull that ultimately culminates in Ragnarok.

Surtr

And that brings us to Surtr. If Ymir can be considered your primordial Rime, or Frost Thurs, then Surtr is your primordial Fire Thurs. Likewise if Ymir represents the chaos of creation, Surtr represents the Chaos of destruction and the completion of the natural life cycle. Because he is associated with the south (Muspelheim), Surtr is then associated with the idea of fire, which is common in Icelandic Norse mythology. It can be argued that the figure of Surtr was, at the very least, a local figure given over to Iceland’s relatively tumultuous volcanic geography that was incorporated in part into the larger Nordic cycle by Icelandic-born writers, but this theory has never been proven.

His Consort is Sinmora. Less is known of this figure than Surtr himself, save she possesses/is the guardian of the legendary weapon Lævateinn*. Some theories suggest Sinmora as the Same entity as Hela, but personally I find they hold very little water.

Surtr is demonized as a malevolent antagonist to the gods, positioning himself against the world as a whole. And, I want to dispense with the idea, immediately, that Surtr is inherently demonic or otherwise evil. I cannot emphasize this enough.

“If we associate Surtr with the Icelandic writers, an etin with an affinity towards fire and the volcanic landscape of their homeland, then it is easy to see how they could put a greater derogatory emphasis on the being. After all, fire is well attested to being both a savior and a potential threat to civilization, ” Marc, Axe and Plough

It is my understanding that Surtr is in Muspelheim before the worlds are created. Which makes him the perhaps oldest entity in the Northern Pantheon. (excluding some ideas that the Void itself is an entity) Surtr is the lord of Múspellsheimr and the leader of that realm. We do not know when he became the lord of Múspellsheimr, so it is fair to assume that he has always been. That Surtr has always been. This is supported by Muspell, the primordial world of fire, as the primary impetus for the creation of the universe. The interactions between Muspell and Niflheim, within the great void of Ginnungagap was what birthed the universe (Faulkes 1995: 10).

This Idea is one we see regularly, paths of Destruction as paths to rebirth, creation. It is possible that Surtr is a regular arbiter for that rebirth, and has been through the founding and destruction of several universes. What can be gathered from this is something we see regularly in Northern Traditions, the understanding that though things die, life continues, renews and grows.

Natural science does a good way of illustrating Surtr’s importance in this example.

Take Andisols for instance. These are soils that form on volcanic ash and contain volcanic glass and compounds of elements such as Fe, Al and Si. (Ions of those elements, which are released by leaching and weathering of volcanic rock, can form complexes with organic matter; in addition to an andisol’s ability to retain water, this can make for very fertile growing conditions, after it has had the chance to weather, break down and release it´s nutrients. Eruption(destruction), break down, and then growth.

Now let's stop right there for a second. There is very little information on Surtr however there are some conclusions that can be drawn with some mental gymnastics about his role at ragnarok. His role at Ragnarok is to do battle with Freyr, be victorious and cover all the realms with Fire. After Balder will return from Hel and a new cycle of life will begin.

If you look at Ymir as the beginning and Surtr as the end, and both of them in a system of chaotic creation and destruction, then Freyr, the vanic god of fertility and agriculture( one of the ways in which humans mastered the natural world), is the obvious Foe. Freyr represents creation in the system created by Odin Vili and Ve after Ymir’s slaying. To return to the primordial creation you have to remove it, you have to remove everything. And Surtr is the obvious answer to that, an ever present being that sees the same cycle completed over and over. I’d even argue that Balders return to the world of the living is christianized to reflect Christ and maybe a better ending to ragnarok is simply to return to the natural state of the cosmos, Muspelheim in the south, Niflheim in the north and the Void between them.

Conclusion

So i Started this with very little information and so have had to draw a lot of my own conclusions. Some heathens who have also written on this subject, like raven kaldera and his associates, i think over humanize Surtr and by extension Ymir in ways to make the entities more approachable. but i see that for myself as sort of counterproductive. Others like Ljossal Lodursson idk, i just don’t find that his conclusions hold up to my interpretations, that is I don’t support Audumla as an essential part of the cosmos, but that’s my UPG and so i think it’s important to remind everyone that your UPG is yours and you’ll draw your own conclusions through journey work and research. My dissatisfaction with others who follow the path of the jotnar is not a reflection of the validity or quality of their works.

How you choose to incorporate any deity is really up to you.

For myself, I like Ymir for organic inspiration, but I also just sort of feel close to him as I'm a human living on earth, obsessed with the way the universe is held together. If you accept the big bang theory as the scientific beginning of the universe there is a place you can drop ymir in there. Ymir, Screamer, Bang...you get it. I have found if you stare too long at Ymir you sorta fall in and getting out again is rather difficult. I began to feel very unconnected to other parts of my faith, including Loki the longer i stayed trying to connect to Ymir.

Surtr is sorta similar for me. When you want to start over with a clean slate he'd be the one to help you, or rather his is the power you would seek since I'm not certain I could see something omnipresent and everlasting, that is the personification of ultimate entropy as being able to offer conscious help.

I don’t think of them as meeting people or interacting with persons. Try seeing them as simply being, events or states. Powers, elements, eldritch entities beyond sentient consciousness. Like some kind of Norse Jellyfish or giant space Apatosaurus. They just are, they have functions and they are or have fulfilled them.

***

*Lævateinn

Lævateinn is etymologically considered to be a kenning for a sword (Old Norse "damage twig"[1]

Henry Adams Bellows translation:

41. Svipdag spake:

"Now answer me, Fjolsvith, the question I ask,

For now the truth would I know:

What weapon can send Vithofnir to seek

The house of Hel below?"

42. Fjolsvith spake:

"Lævatein is there, that Lopt with runes

Once made by the doors of death;

In Lægjarn's chest by Sinmora lies it,

And nine locks fasten it firm."[3]

Bellows comments that Lægjarn means "Lover of Ill" and, like the name Lopt, refers to Loki

There is some suggestion that the weapon may be the misteltoe used to kill Baldur but this theory has never been proven.

More Reading

Arith Hargar- he has an excellent video on Ymir

http://www.northernpaganism.org/

a site with lots of information on various Jotnar as well as digital shrines

Raven Kaldera's Jotunbok

https://axeandplough.com/

Marc has several articles of interest- including one of the few written about Surtr

Ljossal Lodursson has written several texts on Thursatru that offer unique perspectives

#heathenry #heathen #rokkatru #asatru #norse #norse pagan #pagan #ymir #surtr

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lattewithatwistoflemon · 4 years ago

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Gundam Wing Essay

January 25, 2021

Gundam Wing has this powerful nostalgia for me, even though I didn’t actually watch the show when it came on television when I was little. I just shrugged it off and said I didn’t like Gundams. Yet I’m finding myself drawn to these characters and wondering if, in some subconscious way, this show influenced who I’ve become. From my love of damaged, traumatized bishounen to my inclination to dress exactly like Relena, despite never consciously thinking about her in all these years... I feel like maybe aspects of this anime molded me into who I am today.

Every time I heard one of my favorite songs, “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None The Richer, there was a couple there in my head, and I couldn’t pinpoint who they were... But after looking at the Gundam manga issue I got when I was 7, where Heero and Relena are in a romantic garden together, and seeing the ending sequence of the anime, where Relena stands in a field wearing that dress and that hat, I can’t help but think “it’s them”. It’s been Heero and Relena in my head all along, as this idealized fairy tale couple, every time I heard that song. Thinking back on my childhood impression of them, I realized I always imagined them as being like Romeo and Juliet, talking to each other over a balcony, over a courtyard garden, in a star-crossed, Shakespearean romance. In my head, they were always so deeply in love. Perhaps they were a symbol of romance itself. I don’t remember if I had seen a specific scene in the anime as a child that made me see them as a couple, or if my memory is just based on that one chapter of the Ground Zero manga, but either way, they were imprinted on my mind as the most quintessential, devoted lovers. She was a fairy tale princess, and he was the gallant knight who would come rescue her.

Zechs feels like an ideal fairy tale prince... the kind that will kiss my hand, give me roses, and carry me bridal style through a beautiful European garden, to a sweet little white outdoor table, where we drink tea out of fine China teacups, while the sun shines brightly, and the leaves of the trees around us cast shadows upon us that sway with the breeze. Yet Zechs also possesses that same dark, seductive quality of the Phantom of the Opera, whispering in my ear with that voice that’s both sinister and incredibly romantic at the same time, as if luring me into his embrace. Zechs has this beautiful duality to him. He goes down a dark path on multiple occasions, but even so, he feels terrible guilt for what he does. Because of this, he still comes across as honorable and chivalrous to me. Other anime characters that I’ve seen since then have had a similar feel, such as Yue from Cardcaptor Sakura and Griffith from Berserk. I’ve even created original characters for my own stories who are long haired, princely men with ambiguous morals, who I now wonder if they were subconsciously inspired by this one, long-forgotten figure that I had briefly seen as a 7-year-old. I tended to like blonde characters when I was little, and like most little girls, I loved the idea of a perfect, gentlemanly prince charming. I’m genuinely surprised that I didn’t remember him from when I was a child. Perhaps if I had seen those gentle blue eyes beneath the mask, I would’ve fallen in love.

Duo has a much different quality from Zechs. He feels familiar in a way that’s hard to pinpoint. He’s brash, energetic, and laid-back at the same time. He has this friendly, approachable quality to him that the other characters don’t possess. It feels like I can actually get close to him, while all the others feel like they’d push me away. I’ve realized Duo reminds me of various other characters, most of which are from video games, such as Sonic, Dante, and most importantly… Link. Link was my very first crush. My attachment to Link stemmed from the Ocarina of Time game. It wasn’t until many years later that I watched the animated Zelda series, in which Link is very much like Duo. I never thought of myself as being particularly attracted to that version of Link, yet now, when seeing an actual anime character who resembles him in appearance and personality, I find myself incredibly drawn to him. I can’t say for sure whether my attraction to Duo is due to his similarity to Link or to any other character or if it’s simply because of how warm and approachable he feels compared to the other gundam pilots. I remember that Duo’s design always stuck out to me the most, as the cute one with the braid.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been interested in angry, angsty characters who have traumatic backstories. For the longest time, I was under the assumption that Heero would be a basic, friendly protagonist. So when I finally started watching this show 20 years later, I was surprised by him being the type of angst-ridden anti-hero that I love nowadays. When I was 13, I discovered Saiyuki, and instantly obsessed over Genjo Sanzo, who’s exactly like Heero in that sense. His past trauma turned him into a cold, ruthless killer, who, despite his self-loathing, came to the decision that he must continue killing in order to live. While watching Gundam Wing, I saw these same qualities in Heero. Whatever he’s experienced before the start of the anime must have damaged him so badly that he’s become this cold-blooded killer. Judging from how quick he is to throw away his life for his mission, I conclude that he despises himself for all the people he’s killed. Just like Sanzo, he pushes aside that self-loathing to live on and continues fighting for what he believes is right. In addition to Sanzo, another character that I love with a similar personality type is Kai from Beyblade. Although his circumstances aren’t as extreme as Heero’s and Sanzo’s, since he hasn’t killed anyone, he also has a chip on his shoulder from his past trauma that causes him to be cold and put up a wall between himself and the people around him. Out of the characters that I know of who have this personality type, Heero would have been the first one I had seen. Even though I don’t remember knowing that Heero was like this, since I had assumed he was completely different all along, part of me gets this feeling of “what if he was the start of this? What if he’s the reason I love this type of character?” I wonder if it’s possible for him to have influenced my inclination towards these characters without me having any memory of it.

Adding to this topic of traumatized characters, Trowa also fits the bill. His trauma isn’t portrayed as anger against the world, as with the characters listed above. Instead, he’s often depicted as depressed and sometimes frightened, in a way that makes Catherine and myself feel pity for him. When he loses his memory and holds himself, shivering, that is a perfect illustration of the type of characters that I like, due to their vulnerability and need for protection. My very first favorite anime character was Hotaru from Sailor Moon, who very frequently displayed these same actions, which made me instantly love her. Also, Trowa reminds me a lot of Hakkai from Saiyuki.

Both Heero and Trowa are suicidal. Trowa had one or two moments highlighting this, but Heero has had at least 5 instances where it looked to me like he was trying to kill himself. He would often do something incredibly dangerous, without any regard to his own life. In one instance, he very nearly blew himself up, which resulted in him being bed-ridden and covered in bandages. I’ve always had a strong interest in suicidal and self-loathing characters like this. Whether this is from some sort of motherly instinct that makes me want to protect them or some sort of sadistic interest that I have with fictional characters, I’m not entirely sure. But either way, these two Gundam Wing characters stuck out to me very strongly due to their trauma and suicidal intent. Since Heero had always given me the impression of being the epitome of a shounen hero, him being suicidal struck me especially hard, and this just made me like him all the more. Even when I watch more lighthearted shows, I like to headcanon these kinds of things. For instance, I headcanon multiple Beyblade characters to be abused, suicidal child soldiers, so it was interesting to see that these things were canon in Gundam Wing. It’s rare for me to find an anime that focuses on traumatized bishounen characters similar to Saiyuki, so when I realized Gundam Wing was like this, I felt like it was written for me. I’ve come to call this the “pretty boys in need” genre.

Another reason this anime speaks to me is that, whenever I see Relena, I feel like I’m looking at myself as an anime character. Over the years, from high school to college especially, I’d developed my own fashion sense and aesthetic. This consisted of me wanting to wear ruffled blouses and long skirts. I loved feeling like a proper Victorian lady. I wore puffy sleeves, bows, and frills. My favorite colors to wear, which people have said look the best on me, were shades of red, pink, or maroon. I’d also wear a lot of white. My favorite hairstyle has always been straight cut bangs with my hair partly tied back, just like Relena’s. The hairstyle was consciously inspired by Gabrielle from Xena Warrior Princess, but I can’t help but wonder if Relena had some subconscious influence on it as well. My hair is naturally brown, but I was born blonde, and I often bleach my hair, so it’s usually somewhere close to her dark blond/light brown hair. My eyes are also dark teal, like Relena’s. Although I’ve lately been working a lot and hardly have the chance to dress up, I still see this Victorian princess image as my ideal appearance, which makes Relena feel like an idealized anime version of myself. I feel like I’ve grown to become her. Although, this comparison is almost strictly appearance-based. Some people say I’m serious, but in general, I don’t feel like I’m nearly as serious as she is. My life revolves around anime (certainly not politics), and I’m known to be very giggly. Although Relena and I do share an interest in angsty bad boys. I can’t help but wonder if maybe, somewhere deep down in my subconscious, I always wanted to be like her?

Lastly, the entire aesthetic and feel of this show feels incredibly nostalgic to me. There’s a scene in the second opening, where Heero suddenly looks up at the camera in a way that makes my heart skip a beat. I’ve been having trouble figuring out exactly what the feeling is that this evokes for me. I’ll say it’s a mix of sweet nostalgia and perhaps guilt. The characters’ faces and art style are so incredibly familiar to me. I’ve known of them since I was 7, but I never gave the show a chance by trying to watch it. I told myself I didn’t like it, after seeing a couple minutes, because I very quickly came to the conclusion that I didn’t like mecha anime. I was only 7, yet this opinion stuck with me for 20 years, without me ever trying to change it. Over the years, I had almost completely forgotten about Gundam Wing. I shunned the show. Perhaps I shunned Heero most of all, with my assumption that he’s a normal, cliche shounen protagonist. So when he looks directly at the screen like that, while I’m captivated by the familiar beauty of the art style, I also feel a pang of guilt for neglecting him all these years.

I think the best way for me to conclude what it is about this series that makes me feel so strongly is that this space opera genre possesses the feeling of an Arthurian romance or a Shakespearean tragedy. While watching this show, my mind isn’t focused on the battles or the gundams. What draws me to this show are the characters’ relationships, emotional trauma, and the visual allusions to times long ago. Because of this, the small, barely remembered bits that I had seen as a small child had left such a big impact on me that, now, when I watch it for the first time, it feels like it’s been living inside my soul all along. When I watch this anime, I get this feeling that I can’t believe I’m actually watching it. As something from a bygone era that I had quickly discarded and never thought I would ever get back, it feels like some sort of miracle, as if I had gone back in time to watch this long-forgotten relic of my past.

Leah Marie

#if anyone takes time out of their day to read this... thank you so much!#i wanted to write something small but #it turned into a 2k word essay #i wasn't sure if i was going to like this anime but #it's safe to say i do #gundam wing #mobile suit gundam wing #gundam wing essay

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yaz-the-spaz · 5 years ago

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Purgatory (it's our paradise)

summary: liam has made a grave mistake, one that’s cost him everything. or so he thinks...

[or, what happens when fallen angel liam meets ifrit zayn]

a/n: This was alternatively going to be called ‘heaven in your eyes’ as the original parenthetical part of the title, but then I remembered the obvious line from pillow talk and couldn't resist

inspired by my friend @lstarry who originally sent me the liam pic and got the conversation rolling on fallen angel liam, which ofc forced this plotbunny into my head lol

fyi angels cry glittery tears in this

and also, to be clear, this is not exactly meant to THE purgatory, but just something like it/equivalent to it, a place on a similar plane but separate from all the other creatures/souls that would be in actual purgatory

rated: T (only for some slightly graphic descriptions of blood and gore, other than that this is mostly just G rated angsty fluff)

______________________________________________________________________

He shouldn’t be here.

That is the only thing that keeps running through Liam’s mind as he traipses on an endless journey through this foreboding forest, whipping thickets of thorny branches and brambles away from his face and arms, trying his best to shield his body from the worst of the blows with his wings. His wings which have already started to take on a mottled dark tawny color, slowly and steadily blackening the longer he spends here. It won’t be long now. Before they’re fully black. Before the ether of this place has turned his very soul into something dark and twisted. Or at least those are the stories he was always told. He doesn’t know how true they are. But he supposes he’s been spared an even more wicked fate. He could be in a place much worse than here. A place full of nothing but…the most absolute vile depravities and monstrous abominations, a place full of nothing but endless suffering and torment. Here at least toes the line, not quite pure, not quite evil, but rather hovering delicately somewhere in between.

It’s his own fault though. All of it. He just couldn’t keep his stupid mouth shut. He’s always done his best to be so good. To fall in line. For so long he’s played the obedient little soldier, never questioning, never disobeying. But he just couldn’t do it any longer. He couldn’t do it. And now he’s gone and gotten himself cast out. Forever. Lost the only family he’s ever known, the only home he’s ever known. Traded it for this place, condemned to an eternity of loneliness, darkness.

He doesn’t want to cry, doesn’t want to give Father the satisfaction—because Liam knows He’s still watching, even here. But he can’t help it. He grieves for all that he’s lost, all that he’s given up in return for a life of squalor and desolation, tears sparkling at his eyes.

It wasn’t worth it.

If he could go back and do it all again, he wouldn’t. He’d keep his mouth shut, play the good soldier for the rest of eternity no matter the personal cost to him. He’d rather suffer in miserable silence the rest of his days, surrounded by his family, than be trapped here alone in this awful place, with no hope, no chance for redemption. This cold, dark place that is slowly sucking the light right out of him, leeching on all the tendrils of good still remaining within him.

Abruptly he reaches the edge of the forest, the heavy darkness ebbing away only slightly to illuminate a large clearing before him and he gasps, stopping short at the sight in front of him.

In the middle of the clearing is a creature, crouched down over another. The fog is too thick at the moment to make much out for certain but Liam can smell death in the air. Terror-struck, he darts back behind the trunk of the nearest tree.

But it’s too late. They’ve seen him.

A wicked-sounding laugh carries itself on the current of the air, almost as if tangible, as if latching itself onto the fog until it reaches Liam, sounding as if coming from right beside him. He jumps, darting to another tree, the taunting laughter somehow seeming to follow him, his own panting breaths coming short and fast in his ears. Back and forth he weaves between the trees, the laughter still seeming to echo behind him no matter which direction he goes, until finally it fades. And then a sudden thought occurs to him. He doesn’t know how much of it is the steady darkness creeping in, taking hold of him. He’s never thought anything like it before. Never had reason to before now. But he realizes that if the thing, the creature, in the clearing has killed another, then it is possible to be killed here. Not just hurt or maimed, but killed. He has never known the threat of death before. It was not a possibility for him back home, with Father.

He’d thought himself condemned to a miserable eternity here, but…perhaps not. Perhaps…there is another way out. Perhaps Father has given him some chance at solace after all. Surely ceasing to exist would be a better fate than endless millennia of this? A peaceful respite from a lifetime of loneliness and suffering, a lifetime of being consumed by immeasurable guilt and regret.

Resolute in his sudden decision, Liam steps out from behind the tree and ambles forward. If he is to meet his end today, he will meet it head on, like the soldier he was bred to be.

As he steps forward, however, the fog starts to clear a little and he realizes that the creature is not what he thought at all. Not the ghastly beast he was imagining, but a thin waif of a thing. Like him it has been made in Father’s image. Two arms, two legs, a face with a congruence of features not all that unlike his own. Two eyes, a mouth, a nose, even ears. Though, unlike Liam, it has no wings.

“What has Father sent me?” it calls out into the foggy darkness, in the deep voice of a male entity. “Come closer, let me see my gift.”

Curious, Liam steps further into the clearing, the fog wafting and parting around him, creating a path of sorts between them, allowing them to view each other more clearly.

“An angel?” the creature inquires aloud, his smile wicked-looking as he sets his sights on Liam. “Come, little angel. Don’t be afraid.”

As Liam edges closer more details start to come into view. A dead thing, more animal-like in nature, lays before the creature, body crumpled and twisted, covered in blood. It is obvious from the state of the carnage that there was a struggle, though whether this kill was for food or for pleasure, it is unclear.

But Liam is not afraid.

Moving forward still, his eyes meet the other’s, close enough to take him in fully. He is beautiful, Liam realizes. A particular, sharp, striking sort of beauty that Father only reserves for a lucky few of His creations. Already Liam was ready to meet this creature head-on, to accept whatever fate may befall him in their encounter, but strangely he finds himself being drawn in even more by the other’s gaze. His eyes are a warm brown, again not unlike Liam’s, but there is something else, something…volatile and fervid lurking behind them, something almost intoxicating in its intensity even.

Gaze still trained on Liam, who is still edging closer, the creature lifts his hand to brandish a dagger fashioned out of sharp-cut bone. He holds it purposefully in front of him, but somehow Liam can sense there is not a threat in it. Though he’s unsure if that is a good or a bad thing. A part of him wants the threat, wants the assurance of a welcome death, without the hindrance of games and dalliances. But still he moves forward, their eyes still trained on each other, the dagger still held firmly, but somehow also playfully, in the creature’s hand.

When Liam is only a few arms’ lengths away the creature’s smile briefly turns from wicked to animated—a strange, almost frenzied glee in it—before softening again, returning back to that more mischievous air as he brings the dagger toward his mouth. Eyes still reeling Liam in, he waits for Liam to get closer, closer. And then he licks the dagger, slowly and languidly, watching Liam like a taunt. And that's when Liam realizes that it's blood he's licking, all the while still looking Liam right in his eyes. Liam can’t look away. He shouldn’t find the sight so enticing but he does. This place is already starting to turn him, he realizes. Or perhaps it is whatever hidden power lies behind this stranger’s gaze. He doesn’t know, but he suddenly finds he doesn’t care.

Drawn in by those magnetic eyes, Liam stands there. Watching. Waiting. For what, he isn’t sure, but oddly he feels he could be content to watch this creature forever. Even if the creature was doing nothing at all, Liam thinks he would still want to watch.

When he has licked all the blood away, he sets the knife down and digs his other hand into the animal, pulling away neatly-cut strips of flesh that he must have already carved up earlier, before Liam arrived. Then he sticks his bloody hand out toward Liam, long strips of flesh dangling over his palm.

“To share,” he says simply.

It is nothing like the food Liam would have eaten back home, the sweet fruits that blossomed with flavor in his mouth. But he has been wading through the forest for what he is certain must have been at least a handful of millennia, if not more, and he is so hungry. He may not have view of the humans’ world any longer to help him mark the passage of time but he remembers what a millennium felt like and his journey through the forest had certainly not been a short one, even by his own kind’s standards of time.

Longingly, he drops to his knees, mouth watering, and takes the helpings offered to him, sinking his teeth in.

It is not altogether pleasant, but it is not entirely unpleasant either, and he finds it warms his belly in a rather soothing and satisfying way that the food of home never did.

When they have eaten their fill, and there is nothing left but bones and discarded scraps of skin, they settle back against the ground, faces tilted up to the sky. Through the fog, the faint twinkle of stars is still visible and it makes him long for home, a strange ache to his body. But a sudden soft touch to the feathers at the edge of his left wing startles him out of his thoughts and he abruptly sits back up.

The other creature mirrors him, sitting up to face Liam and they simply watch each other for a while before he reaches out again. Liam’s wing flinches a little, unused to such a touch from someone who is not his family.

“What are you?” Liam asks, the creature eyes still set on Liam’s face even while he pets delicately and curiously at Liam’s wing.

“I am ifrit. Born of fire.”

Liam only distantly remembers learning of the ifrit. There are some of Liam’s kind who have been around since the time of their creation, who remember when their own kind and the ifrit roamed earth freely with the humans, before there was so much separation of all the different realms. But that was long before Father created Liam, and he has never known a time of such freedom himself.

“What is your name?”

“I am called Zayn,” the creature says, still enamored by Liam’s wings. “And you?”

“Liam.”

“Liam,” Zayn repeats. “Hello, Liam.”

“Hello, Zayn.”

The fog around them has dissipated a bit more and Liam looks around, curiously. He wonders if this is the ifrit’s home. And if so where is his family? Surely there are others of his kind here that he lives among? Unless perhaps he is from another place, but has been cast out too, like Liam. He wishes he could remember more about the stories of the ifrit but he supposes it is really of no matter. They are both here now. They must make the best of it. At least he seems friendly, and willing to share.

“So soft,” Zayn says, still petting at Liam’s feathers. He smiles again but there is no seeming wickedness or deviousness to it this time, no manic excitement. Instead it is gentle, almost a wondrous, joyful sort of expression. “Father has sent me such a lovely gift.”

Liam frowns. “I am not a gift.”

“Of course you are,” he says, as if Liam is the one being silly. As if he can’t even fathom that Liam has only been sent here for punishment.

Liam sighs. Stupid ifrit. Perhaps he’s gone mad in his time here. Liam hopes that is not the fate that awaits him too.

“Where are you from?” Liam says instead, voicing his thoughts aloud. “Is this your home or were you cast out from your family too?”

“I am born of fire,” Zayn repeats.

Liam sighs again. Of course. The very moment he thinks he’s found solace in a possible companion, and it turns out Father has only cursed him yet again with a half-mad fire creature.

“Poor angel,” Zayn says sadly, still petting at him, but further down, where the feathers are still white instead of black or faded brown. “You are born of the light, but your light is fading here.”

Liam looks back at him, surprised but still resigned. He may not be all there, but at least he isn’t as dim-witted as Liam had worried he might be.

But then he dashes even that hope, saying, “That must be why Father sent you to me.”

“He didn’t send me to you,” Liam retorts. “He sent me here as punishment, and I only happened to run into you.” He’s annoyed that he even has to explain any of this, but the slow-witted ifrit just doesn’t seem to get it.

Zayn smiles, shaking his head at Liam. “Funny little angel. You were born directly in Father’s light but you still don’t understand Him at all, do you?”

Liam’s mouth drops open. How dare this daft creature insult him in such a way!

“Come,” Zayn simply says, suddenly standing and sticking out his hand for Liam to take.

Liam staunchly refuses, shaking his head and staying seated. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Come,” Zayn repeats, more insistently, flexing his outstretched hand a bit for emphasis.

“No.”

“Would you rather take your chances alone with a full pack of those?” Zayn juts his head toward the now-bare carcass of the animal they ate. Liam blows out a breath through his nose, frustrated. He supposes Zayn has a point. He’d been lucky enough to avoid any dangerous encounters during his time in the forest. But if he lets Zayn leave without him now, he’ll be stuck here all alone in an area he’s guessing those animals are more likely to frequent, and with none of his angelic weapons—they’d been revoked upon his banishment—to defend himself with. He has no desire to die that way. He may have welcomed the idea of death before, with Zayn, but at least that would have been a warrior’s death. Not so with a pack of wild beasts.

Reluctantly, he stands, taking Zayn’s hand and they start to walk...

[Read the rest on AO3 here]

#ziam #ziam fics #my fics #purgatory fic #fallen angel liam #ifrit zayn #also i hope ppl still like my really shitty attempt at a #moodboard #lol #i put so much time and work into it and i still feel like it came out pretty crap but #what are you gonna do lol

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dzamie-oc · 4 years ago

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Smaugust 29 - Eldritch Horror

Three students at Magika University decide to get some extracurricular instruction from a dragon beyond their world. They're, uh, they're still students for a reason. (1435 words)

cw: magic, imprisonment, talking in all caps, vore-adjacent, implied hypnosis

In a dorm room at Magika University, three students attended to an empty patch of floor. One of them, Leopold read from a thick, aged tome, pages yellowed over time. A second, Marisa leaned over the patch of floor, carefully painting sigils and figures on a series of connected circles and triangles according to Leopold's directions. And Shira, the third, stayed coiled up on her tail by the door, keeping an eye and ear out for their RA. They weren't worried because they were doing some strange and illegal magic - unless someone got seriously hurt, any spell found in the campus library was fair game - but vandalizing dorm room floors was a big no-no. The three of them had a rug ready to roll over it in case someone came by.

"And then Tau, Ehwaz, Tin, and Gold. That's it." Leopold looked up from the book to scan over Marisa's work; the dangers of improper sigil construction was taught early and often, especially with a new spell.

Marisa finally withdrew her brush from the floor and stretched. "I really hope this works," she grumbled, "I definitely don't want to have wasted two days' worth of blood pouches on a big, fat nothing."

The lamia glanced over to them. "Coast is still clear. You guys are ready?" At their nods, she slithered over to the other two. "Alright. Lead us in, L-man."

Leopold placed one hand in a small circle on the outside of the figures; the other two followed suit in other circles. They let their magic flow through the blood, mingling and empowering the ritual. Leopold spoke evenly and carefully. It was a short incantation, but that just meant mistakes could be more drastic. "Deomach Nokrad Miyatzor Venchane'i."

The red symbols on the floor began to glow, and three columns of light formed at the corners of the central triangle. These beams of light spread down along the sides, bathing the entire room in a dim, red light that expanded outwards and stopped only at the outermost ring of paint. Shira flickered her forked tongue out, the taste and tingle of the magic exciting her; her friends were similarly eager to see the fruits of their labor, and as one black paw reached out of the triangle, followed by a second, they knew they had been at least somewhat successful.

Following the paws was a small head, scaly and narrowing to an almost beaklike snout. The creature looked around with seven eyes various places around its head, then squeezed them shut to pull itself up further. Black, skeletal wings were drawn up out of the hole in the ground, which unfurled to reveal a shifting mass of pastels on the underside, undulating and moving in an almost alluring fashion. Another pair of paws aided the front in dragging the creature up, and a third set once the second was solidly on the floor as well. The last thing to come up was a long, twisted tail, black fading to a vibrant blue, looking like it was constantly dripping yet never seeming to actually let any part of it fall; along its length were a number of small, yellow eyes with black slit pupils. Once the tip of its tail was free of the triangular hole, it paced around the circular enclosure and yawned. Within its jaws was a soft, pure white light; Marisa got the distinct impression that she would be burned by touching it, and Leopold found it bright, yet not painful to look at even in the darkened room. After it had walked a few laps of its enclosure, it pointed its muzzle at Leopold.

"YOU ARE THE CALLER," it spoke in a voice unable to be ignored, "I AM NOT CALLED OFTEN. MAY I HAVE THE NAMES OF MY SUMMONERS?"

"You may address me as Leo, her as Mary, and her as Nix," Leopold replied, nearly automatically. It was a common way to begin a summoning, and much like a game of tic-tac-toe, it was rare that anyone would misstep. "You are known as Kamood, yes?"

"THIS IS TRUE. I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW THE REASON YOU HAVE CALLED ME."

Marisa smirked and remarked, "to see if we could." Shira hissed at her, but Kamood ignored both of them.

"The information we found about you tells us that you are a storyteller and a teacher. We are interested in learning of what someone of your nature and history would tell and teach, and, if us four are in good luck, in learning that which you would tell and teach." This part was slightly more rigid, written beforehand rather than well-practiced through dozens of summons and encounters. "Are you agreeable to teaching students?"

Kamood drew its scaly lips back in a light-filled grin, and its wings rapidly shimmered through a number of colors. It shuffled on its feet to assume a more formal, "proper" stance as it replied, "OH! WOW, I HAVEN'T HAD STUDENTS IN... IN AGES! MOST OF MY PAST SUMMONERS HAVE WANTED ME TO EAT SOMEONE OR DRIVE SOMEONE ELSE MAD. I AM VERY MUCH AGREEABLE TO TEACHING STUDENTS!" It looked around at its surroundings and strolled another lap around the inside of the circle. "HOWEVER, I AM BEREFT OF TEACHING EQUIPMENT. WILL YOU PERMIT ME TO LEAVE THE CIRCLE, THAT I MAY MORE EFFECTIVELY SHARE MY KNOWLEDGE?"

The three students shared grins. Leopold almost responded immediately in the affirmative, but prior drills stayed his mouth. Instead, he offered, "promise us our safety from you and your actions."

The dark, unnatural dragon from beyond drummed its claws on the ground. "SAFETY IS... TOO VAGUE AND EASY TO BREAK. ACCIDENTALLY DAMAGING YOUR PROPERTY MAY VIOLATE IT, AND THE BURDEN OF INFORMATION MAY VIOLATE IT. I OFFER THAT I WILL NOT KNOWINGLY LEAVE LASTING PHYSICAL INJURY ON YOUR BODIES, NOR WILL I KILL YOU OR PURPOSEFULLY DEPRIVE YOU OF SANITY. IN RETURN, YOU WILL ALLOW ME TO LEAVE THE CIRCLE."

Leopold listened carefully. "The promise of safety extends to all three of us, and you further will not leave this room. An expansion of boundaries, not a cessation of them."

Kamood was silent for a moment, blinking its many eyes. "THIS IS ACCEPTABLE. I AGREE TO YOUR TERMS."

"Then, under those terms, you may leave the circle."

A plume of black erupted from the still-open triangular hole, rushing out into the room. Kamood simply strolled out past the human, vampire, and lamia as the darkness whirled around them, forming a solid layer. The floor grew soft beneath them, rising up into a cushion of inky blackness. Shira, concerned, slithered forward and coiled herself protectively around her friends. "Kamood?" Marisa called out, "where are you? What happened?"

A deep, echoing laughter surrounded them. A muzzle, full of light, appeared out of the wall of darkness, now solidified into the same soft material beneath them. "WHY, I AM AROUND YOU, OF COURSE, AND STILL WITHIN THE ROOM. I FIND IT EASIER TO TEACH WHEN MY STUDENTS ARE... SURROUNDED WITH KNOWLEDGE."

"You ate us!" Leopold cried out.

"I DID NO SUCH THING. YOU ARE MERELY WITHIN ME. HAD I EATEN YOU, YOU WOULD NOT BE ABLE TO THINK SUCH A THING, AND I WOULD HAVE BROKEN THE TERMS OF OUR AGREEMENT." The summoned creature smiled through its strange mouth. "NOW, I TEACH SUMMONING ETIQUETTE, INTRO TO TIME MANIPULATION, ABYSSAL AND INFERNAL BIOLOGY, AND DIFFERENTIAL EQUATIONS, AS ELECTIVE COURSES."

The students murmured some surprise and general agreement. They had all expected it to have been nothing more than a trap, but only Shira had taken differential equations before, and the other courses sounded unique. "What, uh... what schedule?" Marisa asked. "My Tuesdays and Fridays are pretty open."

Several more grinning mouths appeared all around them, as well as a few eyes. "OH, MARY. I JUST TOLD YOU I TEACH TIME MANIPULATION. I *AM* YOUR SCHEDULE. WHICH BRINGS ME TO THE LAST COURSE, THE ONLY NON-ELECTIVE: LOYALTY AND OBEDIENCE TO YOUR NEW DRACONIC MASTER." The features vanished, leaving the three in a faux room that Leopold thought was disturbingly similar to the inside of a stomach. "WHILE YOU ARE ENCOURAGED TO TAKE ANY OR ALL OF THE ELECTIVES, YOU NEED ONLY PASS L&O TO BE PERMITTED TO LEAVE.

"YOU THREE ARE FREE TO EACH DECIDE WHICH OF THE COURSES YOU WOULD EACH LIKE TO TAKE. IN THE MEANTIME, I WILL BEGIN THE FIRST CLASS OF L&O." All around them, suddenly, the inky blackness gave way to the swirling pastels they had seen on Kamood's wings. They stared, transfixed, as the summoned dragon laughed. "CLASS IS IN SESSION."

#dragon #magic #school #writing #v/ore #v.ore #v ore #smaugust #writers on tumblr #lamia #text #smaugust 2020

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the-delta-42 · 5 years ago

Text

An Unexpected Turn

Inspired by [this post] by @lenoreofraven

Warning: This oneshot mentions violence, child molesting and murder. if anyone of those may upset you DO NOT READ

An unexpected turn

Ladybug watched as Hawkmoth tore the ring off Chat Noir’s finger, before carelessly tossing him aside. Adrien skidded along the floor until he hit a desk and came to a sudden halt. He was vaguely aware of Nino rushing over to check on him. Adrien opened his eyes and spotted Mayura standing frozen, staring at him.

The sound of breaking glass made everyone look over towards Ladybug and Hawkmoth. Ladybug had managed to gain the upper hand, until Lila hit her with a chair. Ladybug was stunned for a total of two seconds, but given her close proximity to Hawkmoth, that was long enough for him to grab the earrings and forcibly tear them off her.

Ladybug fell to the floor, blood coming from her ear, the other held in Hawkmoth’s grip. Marinette tried to stem the flow of blood from her ears, until Alya rushed over, tossing Lila to the side, before pressing a bunched-up shirt against the bleeding wound.

Hawkmoth only grinned maniacally, before dropping his transformation. He ripped the Butterfly Miraculous from his chest and tossed it to the side. Marinette spotted it and quickly grabbed it, Alya violently jerking when Marinette grabbed the Miraculous. Gabriel slipped the ring on his finger and shove the earrings into his ears.

“Take that off you waste of breath.” Plagg all but snarled, his green eyes narrowed. Tikki screamed and dashed towards Gabriel, who knocked her aside.

“Be silent.” Gabriel snapped, before summoning both Kwami into the ring and earrings.

Gabriel still had the sick, twisted grin on his face, before a fan knocked his head to the side. Mayura glared, drawing her hand back to strike Gabriel again. Gabriel grabbed her hand, removed the Peacock miraculous from her and tossed her aside.

“You won’t need to turn up for work tomorrow, Nathalie.” Said Gabriel, his voice cold.

Adrien was internally screaming, his father was Hawkmoth, who had torn his lady’s ears off, revealing her to be Marinette, Lila was working with him and Nathalie, the woman who had become similar to a mother to him was Mayura. A little voice that sounded like Plagg spoke in his mind, ‘At least she tried to do the right thing.’

“Now, no one can stop me.” Gabriel gloated, holding his hand up and then snapping his fingers.

“NO!” Scream Marinette, jumping up to rush at Gabriel, only for a shockwave to pass through the city, knocking her off her feet.

Everyone was disorientated, Gabriel dropping the transformation, before quietly walking over to Adrien.

“Get up, we’re going home.” Said Gabriel, his voice the signature coldness of his personality.

“Fuck off.” Adrien grunted, glaring up at the man.

Gabriel was dumbstruck by Adrien’s response, before glaring at the boy.

“I am your father and you will do as I say.” Said Gabriel, his glare intensifying, before he turned and looked at Nathalie, “Nathalie, get up-”

“Do I work for you?” The short, curt response from her actually made him freeze, “Last I checked, you still had a restraining order to stop you from going anywhere near Emilie or her son.”

Gabriel could only stare at the woman, saying nothing, giving Marinette ample opportunity to knock Gabriel down with a chair, grab the Ring, which she passed to Adrien, the earrings and the Peacock broach.

Quietly slipping the Peacock and Butterfly in her pocket, Marinette quietly put the Miraculous back on, Adrien doing the same. Tikki and Plagg zipped out of their respective Miraculouses and unceremoniously flopped into the hands of their chosen.

“I don’t get it.” Said Alya, getting to her feet, “He had them both, so why didn’t he use them?”

“That’s a good question.” Said Marinette, vaguely aware of the fabric in Alya’s hand, “The only thing that’s changed, for me at least, is I still have both my ears attached.”

True to form, both of Marinette’s ears were on either side of her head, any blood that had been there a few minutes ago was gone.

“What happened?” Gabriel snarled, whipping around and facing Marinette, who just looked down at Tikki.

Tikki gave a shuddering sigh, before forcing herself to sit up.

“You tried to make two wishes simultaneously,” Said Tikki, looking tired, “we can only do one wish per person and even then, it’s at a cost.”

“But it didn’t cost him anything.” Said Kim, before the penny dropped for Marinette, who started laughing.

“Yes, it did.” The girl continued laughing, “Tell me, tell me, how big was your fashion empire? Reaching across the globe, stocks in everything, raking in millions every day?”

“Obviously.” Gabriel grit out, before Adrien got it and started laughing as well.

“I-I think you should look yourself up,” Said Adrien, leaning back against the desk, “You’d be surprised.”

Gabriel only continued to grit his teeth, before Ms. Bustier walked into the room.

“Sorry I’m late,” Said Ms. Bustier, frowning down at her paperwork, “But last week’s incident report came in and-”

Ms. Bustier looked up and her eyes clocked Gabriel Agreste standing in her classroom. Ms. Bustier and Gabriel held eye contact for a total of thirty seconds, before she turned to the class.

“Everyone, go out to the courtyard.” All the students followed her command, Nathalie escorting them out. Ms. Bustier was the last one to leave, locking the door, leaving Gabriel alone in the classroom.

“Nooroo, Dark Wings Rise!” Gabriel snarled, but got no response. Gabriel spun and stared at the spot the Butterfly Miraculous had landed, only to find it wasn’t there. Gabriel snarled, his eyes going to his left hand, expecting to see the Peacock in his grip. Gabriel fumed, as he realised that he had no Miraculous at his disposal. Then he froze, that Marinette girl was Ladybug, and Ladybug was the new Guardian. All he had to do was wait for the police to come and release him and he could go over to the bakery and grab the miracle box, and perhaps he could have a little fun while he was there.

The last thought made him freeze. Gabriel quickly rushed over to the computer and hastily typed his name into the first search engine he could find. The results flashed across the screen.

Fashion Mogul found to be The Collector

Child rapist and murderer The Collector found to be missing from his Cell

Hawkmoth believed to be Collector under a new name

Gabriel Agreste spotted near ex-wife and son’s home

Ladybug and Chat Noir confirm suspicions

Emilie Graham de Vanily marries partner of seven years

Gabriel slowly clicked on each of the articles and slowly read them. Everything he had, that he had built, was gone. He and Emilie were separated since Adrien had been two, after she reported him to the police, he’d been arrested two years later after police found DNA evidence on one of the Collector’s victims. A sudden kick in the stomach jolted Gabriel. In trying to get his wife back, he’d lost everything.

AUT

Adrien quietly focussed on Marinette’s breathing, he could vaguely hear Lila making strange noises whenever Chloe moved, as well as Alya rapidly typing on her phone. Marinette’s sister had been one of the Collector’s victims, ironically the one that lead to his arrest.

“What do you think life was like before he screwed up?” Asked Lila, her head dangling upside down, “I mean, we know he had sleeper Akuma’s-” “Don’t we know it.” Alya muttered. “myself included, but, seriously, if his life was so great in that other world, why would he look for magical jewellery?”

Marinette dug around in her pocket and pulled the Peacock and the Butterfly. Carefully pinning the Butterfly to her jacket, she tapped it twice.

A purple Kwami fell into her hands and just laid there, trembling and crying.

“Pl-please, m-master.” The Kwami sobbed, “N-no more.”

Tikki rushed over to the Kwami, Plagg unceremoniously flopped and flailed, acting like water in a balloon. Plagg eventually made it to Tikki and the other Kwami.

“It’s okay, Nooroo,” Tikki soothed, stroking Nooroo’s head, “he no longer has the miraculous, you’re free.”

Nooroo, only continued to quietly sniffle, while Plagg flopped around.

“To answer your question, Sausage hair,” Lila pulled an insulted face, “his wife was missing, or dead, one or the other. He felt he had lost everything in his life and took to manipulating people to try and get what wanted.”

“So, he ruined his own life, while making Adrien’s better?” Asked Alix, leaning forwards.

“Not just Adrien’s,” Said Tikki, “In that world Lila had taken to lying about everything and everyone, Chloe was a nightmare and any adults were complacent and did nothing.”

“Wait, so I was a Psychopath, Chloe was a Sociopath and everyone else were doormats?” Said Lila, rolling off the table.

“Yup.” Said Plagg, before looking up at Adrien, “I know you hate me complaining-”

Adrien pulled a piece of camembert out of his pocket and shoved it in Plagg’s mouth, while Marinette gave Tikki a Macaron.

“Why would their lives change?” Asked Marinette, frowning slightly.

“They were Hawkmoth’s primary tools in Akumatizing people, since he no longer needed them, the Universe accommodated their lives.” Said Plagg, swallowing his cheese, “He had no reason to use either of them this time around and, as a result, never manipulated them into his tools.”

Everyone was quiet, before Alix exhaled, “So what else has changed?”

The Kwami all exchanged glances, before the attention of the class was drawn over to the entrance.

“I don’t care if you need to question them, Roger, I need to get to my son!”

Adrien winced as His mother stormed in, closely followed by Officer Raincomprix. Marinette quickly hid the Kwami in her jacket pocket, making sure Sabrina’s dad didn’t see them.

Emilie crossed the courtyard and yanked Adrien into an embrace.

“Thank god, you’re safe.” Emilie whispered, holding her son tightly.

“I’m fine, maman.” Said Adrien, trying to save his lungs.

Emile then held Adrien at arm’s length and looked him in the eyes, “Adrien Raphael Sancoeur-Graham de Vanily, when that monster is involved, nothing is ever fine. How did he even get into the premises? I thought this school was safe.”

“That’s what we’re trying to investigate, ma’am.” Said Raincomprix, trying not to flinch when she glared at him, “We have reason to believe he had help from a staff member.”

“He didn’t.” Said Marinette, getting the eyes of everyone.

Emilie softened at the sight of the girl.

“Okay.” Said Raincomprix, folding his arms and scowling, “How did he get in?”

Marinette fished Nooroo out of her pocket and pointed to the brooch.

“He got in because he was Hawkmoth,” Said Marinette, “Don’t ask how we got the Miraculous from him and don’t ask us to hand it over.”

Roger opened his mouth, before Emilie cut in, “Where is he now?”

“He’s been locked in the classroom.” Said Lila, before Emilie spun on her heel and stalked off.

“No. Wait. Come back.” Said Adrien, as slowly as possible, “Oh dear, she can’t hear me.”

Everyone was quiet, before Marinette looked at Adrien, while stroking Nooroo, and said, “What’s the chances of your mother committing murder?”

Adrien just shrugged.

AUT

Gabriel looked up as the door unlocked and opened. Emilie stormed in and, before Gabriel could react, punched him so hard that he fell to the floor. Emilie then stood on Gabriel’s chest and glared down at him.

“You have no right, being here.” Said Emilie, her voice cold and face hard.

“Emilie-” Gabriel was kicked in the face, blood spewing from his nose.

“Do. Not. Speak.” Emilie grit out, “You brought this on yourself, all those children you harmed a slaughtered and you always wondered why I would never let you near my son. I’m amazed that Marinette didn’t try to kill you herself, given what you did to her sister.”

Gabriel only stared up at her, desperately, only for Emilie to press her foot down harder, “Where did you get the Miraculous?”

“I found them.” Said Gabriel, weakly.

“You mean you stole them from the Guardian you murdered, then you killed the others until the Miracle Box was given to Ladybug.” Snapped Emilie, her foot pressing down harder.

“We need him alive for the trial.” Said an unfamiliar voice, making Emilie turn around.

“Skye, how long have you been standing there?” Asked Emilie, looking at Marinette’s oldest sister.

“Long enough,” Said Skye, looking at her nails, “Michael is trying to get the media to clear off, to give you and Adrien some peace.”

Emilie got off Gabriel and started to head out of the room, before she looked back, “Make sure he doesn’t get off easy.”

“Don’t worry.” Said Skye, her eyes and voice cold, “He won’t.”

Gabriel watched at Emilie walked away, his heart sinking further into the bottomless abyss of loss.

Everything was gone for him.

AUT

Marinette quietly dozed next to Adrien, who rested his cheek on her head.

“Macarons are dancing.” Marinette mumbled, as she cuddled into Adrien.

Adrien smiled as the News announced the Gabriel had been confined to a lifetime sentence with no chance of getting out.

For some reason, Adrien felt as if he had everything he wanted.

Although, he thinks his mother was right about one of his thoughts, it would be best to finish school before marrying Marinette.

Adrien just hoped the ring he chose would still fit her finger in ten years’ time.

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in-tua-deep · 5 years ago

Note

While genetically the Boy and Five are the same there has to be an aspect of nature vs nurture. So how do the two differ? Does the Boy want his own name and not simply a gender or does he want a name to symbolize becoming part of a family? Do the two of them react to situations differently? I love this AU so much and I need more!

(for more commission boy au/clone five au check out the previous posts on it one, two, three, four, five)

oh absolutely they’re as different as they are similar - even identical twins raised together are different people, after all! And that’s identical genes (like Five and Boy share) and similar upbringings ;3c

they’re both traumatized in very different ways (with overlapping similarities, like both of them don’t trust strangers/adults they don’t know as they’re both used to adults only wanting to use them/cause them pain)

Five is fucked up about the apocalypse. Fucked. Up. He still has minor meltdowns over what if the apocalypse happens today despite them having stopped it. Probability maps are scrawled across the walls in whatever was closest at hand when Five’s brain went into meltdown mode

The Boy doesn’t use math as a crutch like Five does (or as a way of keeping his mind busy, or as a self soothing habit, or anything else) because he wasn’t allowed to write on,, pretty much anything. He had to give verbal reports. After Five’s whole “hide my equations and plans from the commission by writing them in secret in a book” thing, they didn’t trust the Boy with any kind of planning materials. The only reason he knows how to write is because he pretty much taught himself, tracing letters with his fingers in the dust or on steam covered mirrors tbh

(his handwriting is. atrocious. borderline illegible. he really struggles writing with a pen or pencil but can fingerpaint letters/numbers just find. it’s a work in progress and on god five is going to get his little clone as fast as five himself is at writing shit on walls)

the Boy is still a little math prodigy but he’s only done enormous mental equations, which he is very good at!! but it’s definitely limited him (so he wasn’t capable of doing the complex time equations that Five figured out)

The Boy and Five present their nerves about new situations very differently - the Boy goes small and quiet and anxious whereas Five deals with it by going on the aggressive and yelling. This is because the Boy is way more afraid of punishment/rejection than Five is and is more unsure of his position in the family and his default is “obey, do what they say regardless of how you feel just power through it or face the consequences”.

Meanwhile Five’s default was ‘rebel, yell, bring attention to himself because if the spotlight was on him then it was off his siblings’ which is depressing in its own way. The Boy didn’t have siblings to protect, he was alone. Five himself probably wouldn’t have drawn attention to himself if there wasn’t anyone to protect, but there was and he did. He bristles like an offended cat and yells

(but tbh, Five doesn’t actually expect anyone to actually listen to him. both him and the boy learned a long, long time ago that their opinions didn’t matter to the adults, that they might as well not be saying anything at all. The Boy went quiet. Five got louder.)

The Boy is definitely more willing to embrace childish things than Five is, because Five feels he has to protect his reputation and prove that he isn’t a kid

and if there’s some residual trauma there of children vs. adults where Five is fairly convinced that status as an adult offers him some measure of protection against people like Reginald and the Handler, there’s always that. But Five is also probably more willing to be one of “the children” if that means the Boy isn’t alone as the only child because Five’s “protect” instincts overpower his “self preservation” instincts tbh

the Boy is really enthusiastic about things when he thinks he allowed to be (so basically when he’s around Five bc he sees Five as an ally - though he’s getting better around the other siblings without five as a buffer)

his favorite movie is lilo and stitch no you can’t change my mind. it’s the movie he plays constantly as a comfort thing that he never gets tried of. If this was in the era of VHS he would have worn out the tape. Why??? because the boy points at the screen and is like “!! i’m an experiment as well!” and then watches this little blue alien find a family for himself and he’s like “it me!”

…does that make Five the Lilo in this?? possibly. Allison says that it’s more like the Boy is Lilo and Five is Stitch considering Five is the chaos gremlin between the two of them but whatever

(“This is my family. I found it, all by myself. It’s little, and broken, but still good. Yeah, still good.”)

I keep wanting to say the Boy is more skittish than Five but that’s?? not quite true? they’re both skittish and don’t trust easily and cling to the idea of family but in different ways idk like the end goal is the same but they take very different paths to it u know what i mean?

i think the Boy probably does eventually get a different name. Maybe not a name-name since the Boy’s idea of what a name is?? is kind of skewed? like his fav character is Stitch and his brother is Five and he was raised by someone names the Handler like this kid was never gonna have a normal name let’s be real

honestly he probably ends up stuck with something like. Kiddo. Because i HIGHLY doubt the family actually calls him ‘boy’ and in absence of an actual name to call him by end up with nicknames and to differentiate him from Five “Old Man” Hargreeves they probably call him kid and kiddo

i’m thinking about differences and similarities between them again hmm

Five is definitely more assertive?? Five can read the Boy really well (and vice versa) and tends to act as the Boy’s spokesperson when the Boy isn’t comfortable or something. Usually it’s just Five cutting in abruptly like “back off idiot he wants a ham and cheese sandwich not whatever the fuck that is”

the Boy is more likely to approach an issue with violence whereas Five tends to swear and yell and threaten as a first step. Where’s that one meme?? the Boy is “stabs without warning” and Five is “warns (loudly) before stabbing”

the Boy is arguably more deadly than Five since he’s been trained in assassination since basically infancy where Five was taught to be a hero which are arguably very different skillsets (the Boy was never taught about minimizing casualties or saving anyone rip) BUT Five is more experienced and has arguably more creativity than the Boy.

Five is a lot more playful in his fighting because he was because when he was little, fighting was playing. That’s how Five and the other umbrella academy kids bonded - by beating the tar out of one another and outdoing each other. They showed off for each other. The Boy is more straight forward because to him, fighting is a job to get over with as soon as possible

ironically it’s five who has to teach the boy to play, and not the other way around. Jump Tag is a favorite between the two where they just zoom through the house trying to catch each other - Five is a lot better at jumping than the Boy since the Boy wasn’t permitted outside of missions and training, but he’s catching up quick (after all, Five did take a brief 45 year hiatus because his powers burned too many calories in the apocalypse, but it’s a bit like riding a bike in that he never forgot)

even so Five is NOT the person to teach others to play because his childhood was messed up as all fuck

so it’s probably claire that really teaches them how to play

Claire is a well adjusted kid whose confidence, unlike Five’s, is not faked. She has adults she knows, loves, and relies upon. She has healthy relationships with peers. She goes to public school and knows and is friendly with a lot of different people.

So this like, 8-year-old walks in and meets her two skittish emotionally immature uncles (cousin? depends on if they consider the boy to be five’s brother or son) who don’t know fuck all about anything and is like “ah yes. i am your big sister now. i am in charge here.”

and while Five at least rails against the “big sister” charge, neither of them really protest Claire taking charge?? they’re both very willing to follow along behind her tbh neither of them are leadership material and they both know it. they’re probably both very protective of her

if claire is ever bullied god help whoever chose to pick on her bc Five is absolutely willing to maul a middleschooler and the Boy would be right behind him

well i mean. Five is a follower but he’s a little bitch about it, you know? like he’s willing to go with whatever but also if it’s a dumb idea then fuck you. So he’s confrontational with his siblings but if they were ever like “okay then five you take charge” he would be like “oh no. nuh uh. i’m not taking responsibility over all you idiots my blood pressure would go through the ROOF.”

Five loudly declares that Claire is way more sensible and sane than any of the rest of his family so she’s the only one he’ll take real orders from.

(and then Grace walks in and Five will absolutely listen to her as well and not just because the Boy is lowkey scared of Grace and Five is trying to set a good example - as much as he’s capable of setting a good example)

i feel like i’ve talked about their different issues with food, where Five hoards, is food aggressive, and will eat everything whereas the Boy is used to bland nutrition bars and sludge with everything he needs for the day so his issues are more him not knowing what the fuck anything is, being iffy about any strong tasting foods/spices, struggling with eating outside of allotted food times/getting his own food

there’s a whole post about their differences in nightmares/how they deal with those floating out there somewhere

their fashion sense definitely differs in their own ways? The Boy accepts anything he’s given with no questions and has no style of his own where Five tends towards what Klaus calls “hobo chic” in that he discards clothes he deems not useful to survival. You won’t catch Five in ripped jeans or tight pants that restrict mobility (though admittedly tight restrictive clothing would make the Boy uncomfortable as well but he’ll wear what he’s given with no questions)

both boys struggle with capitalism in that there’s Way Too Many Options for things that are dumb. It’s really overwhelming for them both when they’re sent to the store for like, toothpaste and have to enter an aisle with a bajillion different options for one (1) whole thing

OH the Boy doesn’t shoplift. Five frequently shoplifts because his idea of possessions are “it’s in my hand or in my claimed space/room/etc. it’s mine” regardless of the passage of money whereas the Boy’s idea of possessions is “nothing belongs to me ever” and they’re still working on both of those things

they’re both kind of wary around animals because neither are used to them or know what to expect from them. Mr. Pennycrumb is a therapy dog and no one can convince me otherwise and both boys are instantly smitten with him (but they’re still kind of iffy around like. big dogs that bark. or horses. fuck horses they’re scary motherfuckers.)

the Boy doesn’t like bugs very much after living in the very sterile Commission science rooms but Five will literally pop a wolf spider in his mouth for a snack so yEAH they both have. very different perspectives on that. The Boy is absolutely horrified and the first time he witnesses this hides behind Klaus for half a day because what the FUCK FIVE while Five is unapologetic

they protect each other and support each other and figure things out together bless

it’s secretly a very wholesome au behind the horror of the commission cloning five and training a small child to be a murder machine

#Ask Me #anonymous #the commission boy au #tua au #tua #the umbrella academy #far tua long #long post #five hargreeves #number five #klaus hargreeves #they're similar in some ways #wildly different in others #it's a journey lmao #claire hargreeves #tua claire #claire is the boss and the boys respect that

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