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autistic-ben-tennyson · 3 months ago

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In Defense of Vegans

I can’t believe I have to make this but after seeing how posts like the above still get thousands of notes I��m going to. While there are critiques of militant veganism I agree with as a former vegan, some people need to chill out. What’s aggravating about most people here is how much they hate vegans but less in the alt right conservative fashion and more under a guise of faux progressivism. All nuance is thrown out and people treat the vegan debate as a false binary of either eat local, humane meat or child slave soy.

I’ll start by saying I was a lot more anti vegan when I first got on this hellsite. Reblogging anti-vegan posts and picking occasional fights with vegans. I was a lot angrier and was letting off steam as someone who was a former vegan who had a hard time with it. Same with religion, I was a lot more anti religion when starting my blog due to anger at evangelicals. Being able to recognize how it just wasn’t my cup of tea has caused me to let go of a lot of that anger. I wasn’t happy doing it but that’s not a damnation of veganism or vegans.

What irritates me about how most treat vegans is that it’s often reacting to a stereotype or strawman of vegans rather than actually engaging with them. All these posts about how vegans are destroying the environment with their child slave quinoa, cashews and plastic leather, when being a vegan doesn’t require using that stuff. A lot of them are smarter than given credit for and do research what they buy. Many do eat local produce and use hand me down wool or leather. They aren’t just buying every hipster product labeled vegan. Vegans are forced to be put on the defensive and what should be a conversation about how no food is really ethical in this capitalist society turns into a shouting match and “no you” regarding who’s more “cruelty free”.

I can understand having beef with militants if you have faced bigotry such as racism or ableism from animal rights activists. But some people really are quick to hate vegans and justify it as woke or leftist. Sometimes, people won’t even check the source before reblogging it, like the video of that problematic new age hippie, appropriating Pacific Islander culture, claiming veganism is colonialism.

I think a lot of vegans get hate for being the wrong kind of neurodivergent in some peoples eyes. Many, including myself, do have hyper empathy and are swayed by emotional arguments such as documentaries such as Earthlings. They make one small mistake and everyone treats them as if they’re the worst even if they do apologize for it like @sobadpink here in the replies. Many of them do have trauma from the cruelty towards animals they’ve seen which is treated with little sensitivity by people who claim to be allies to those who are neurodivergent and/or have faced abuse or PTSD. While white PETA types need to be called out, many famous civil rights leaders have been vegan/vegetarian like Cesar Chavez or Corretta Scott King and people do a disservice by treating it as solely a white man’s ideology.

Being a vegan isn’t easy and a lot of people’s anger here is fairly reasonable in my opinion. Many are ostracized by their families, can hardly find any food while on the go and struggle with people not understanding or refusing to understand them. Correcting misinformation from vegans is one thing and then there’s just being a jerk about it. A lot of anti vegan people here are the latter. You can say it’s self inflicted but many do think they’re doing a good thing, even if the meat industry is more complicated than just “vote with your dollar”. I would be a bit defensive myself if people treated me like a racist, ableist colonizer who hates migrant workers the moment I mentioned what I eat for lunch.

Call me a bleeding heart or ARA if you want but I think a lot of vegans here deserve more charity than they’ve been given. It’s like this site, when it comes to this issue, is stuck in 2015 as I’ve seen vegans try to explain their side, offer different perspectives and correct misconceptions but nope, another post about slave labor quinoa or plastic wool gets made every week and gets thousands of uncritical notes. People claim those posts aren’t about shaming vegans but that’s sure not how they come off as. Even a lot of the big “anti vegan” blogs here have admitted they went a bit too far and have mellowed out. I don’t agree with everything hardcore vegans have done or said and I can understand why some who’ve been hurt by them may dislike vegans but I think tumblr is way too harsh and intolerant of vegans despite claiming to be the leftist weirdo safe space.

#veganism #animal rights #animal welfare #vegan #vegetarian #social justice #essay

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goodqueenaly · 1 year ago

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It's like poetry something whatever but also comparing and contrasting Ned and Illyrio in their approaches to Jon and Aegon, respectively.

(Obviously, this post is based on the ideas that both Jon is the biological son of Rhaegar and Lyanna and Aegon is the biological son of Illyrio and Serra, as well as the notion that Serra was herself a descendant of the Blackfyres.)

Ned’s outlook for Jon centered on embracing Jon as his son, to the absolute exclusion of his birth identity. Whatever Lyanna’s exact dying words had been to her brother, Ned certainly seems to have interpreted the promise as one to keep Jon safe, without the revelation of his biological parentage. From the first, Jon would know himself only as Jon Snow, with all the implications the name carried; with Jon’s surname designating his (ostensible) bastard status and his first name reflecting his (ostensible) father’s own personal history, Jon’s identity would be wholly defined by and linked to Eddard Stark. Yet Ned would not merely craft a surface-level identity for his sister’s son; he himself would actively, indeed fiercely embrace his own role as Jon’s “father” in more than just assumed genetic paternity. Far from fostering Jon with a pliable aristocratic family elsewhere, Ned installed Jon in Winterfell even before the arrival of Catelyn and their own son and sternly defended that position to his new wife. Jon would grow up as an undisputed (at least to Ned and the Stark children) member of the family, educated by the same maester, trained by the same master at arms, present for the same hunting trips and political responsibilities. Never would Ned hint that Jon belonged, at least by ancestry, to the royal dynasty which had ruled Westeros for three centuries (and dominated in Valyria for millennia prior); Ned would treat Jon only as his son, relying on the firmness of his decision and Jon’s own Stark appearance (inherited from Lyanna, but easily attributable to Ned himself) to maintain the assertion.

For Illyrio, however, his son Aegon has represented not the chance to accept a paternal role but the opportunity to invent a grandiose dynastic destiny for him. We cannot know, at least for now, if Serra sought a promise from Illyrio regarding Aegon’s future, or if Illyrio himself believes that he is acting as Serra would have wanted, but it seems highly improbable that Serra asked that her son be raised to believe that he was in fact the child of the last Targaryen crown prince, and take the Iron Throne as such. Illyrio’s decision to do exactly that may therefore represent a sort of betrayal, perhaps spiritual if not actual, to Serra’s (again, I think probable) Blackfyre origins, and a distinct contrast to Ned’s choice with Jon: aware that Aegon’s female-line Blackfyre credentials would earn him little if any political support in modern Westeros, Illyrio has instead appropriated a false identity for his son that Ned saw in truth for Jon but rejected - that is, the boy as the son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, a would-be heir to this father’s legacy. If Illyrio raised (or, perhaps more accurately, oversaw the raising of) Aegon as a young child in his own Pentoshi manse (evidenced by those musty children’s clothes and Illyrio’s old knowledge of Aegon’s favorite candy), such (relatively) hands-on rearing I think ended rather early: Varys brags to the dying Kevan that “Aegon has been shaped for rule since before he could walk”, and (politically charged boasting aside) Aegon’s extensive education certainly suggests Varys may not be exaggerating too greatly here. Illyrio, unlike Ned, not only found (alongside or thanks to Varys, of course) a willing, indeed eager Westerosi aristocrat to act as the hidden Aegon’s foster father (with that figure even giving Aegon a name derived from his own, likewise fabricated, alias), but clearly specified that the disguise was to remain a surface-level illusion: Aegon is well aware that he is (so he believes) a Targaryen prince, and that his life on the Rhoyne is no more than a secret training ground for his eventual Westerosi royal inheritance. Where Ned remains the central figure of Jon’s life - not only as his (again, assumed) father, but the only parent he knows - Illyrio functions little if at all in the thoughts of Aegon: he is the faraway benefactor whose chests contain the gold to fund his expedition, the unseen planner whose schemes are derided by Tristan Rivers. Each boy may have inherited his mother’s looks, but where Jon’s Stark features only underline the connection between himself and Ned, Aegon’s Valyrian appearance only serves to enhance Illyrio’s argument that he is, in fact, Rhaegar’s son.

#asoiaf meta #jon snow #aegon vi targaryen #eddard stark #illyrio mopatis

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hyperpotamianarch · 12 days ago

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Well, I would like to conclude my experience with His Majesty's Dragon. I do not mean by that that I don't intend to read farther entries in the Temeraire series, but rather that this is a conclusion to the thread I started on it. I have some things to consider before deciding whether or not I continue, mostly if I want to actually buy them (as my local library only had the first book.

That said, let's go over my impressions from the book. Firstly, I'd like to say that the climax kind of passed me by. I know, it's a weird thing to say, but I kind of only realized it was the climax in hindsight? It seems obvious enough now, but for some reason it didn't when I read it.

As my retroactive excuse, I'm going to claim that the plot of the book and the climax aren't really as connected as they maybe should've been. Basically, most of the book focused on Laurence and his adjustment to the Corp. There was the plotline about the handler who dehumanized his dragon (I know it's kind of a weird thing to say. Depersonalized might be a better term), and in general I think that the plot focuses on that? Honestly, I think I wasn't completely clear on what type of book I was reading, which contributed to my odd reaction to the climax. After all, the Napoleonic invasion was very clearly in the background all the time, but for some reason I wasn't really sure when to expect it. Something in my mind simply refused to believe it was going to be the important, climactic event... I really don't know.

A few more tidbits: when Laurence first meets Celeritas, he thinks that this explains why the Corps care so much even about wild dragons. Then we find out that Celeritas is technically bound? I'm not sure I'm using the correct terms, and perhaps I'm too used to books like Eragon and Pern where there's a magical side to bonding a dragon. I mean, I guess wild dragons are simply dragons without handlers? Who are less likely to care about humans?

This kind of leads me to the next point: while it's made clear that at least in the Corps everyone considers their dragon to be a person (and if you don't, you're an outcast I won't even bother typing the name of. Because I forgot it and decided that it's appropriate punishment for someone who denies the personhood of another). But they're still sometimes treated like beasts. Like when that Captain suggested that Temeraire could switch handlers. The way they handled that didn't seem like transferring a person - it didn't even really seem like transferring a child between foster homes, which might be the closest equivalent considering Temeraire's age, because they literally choose to lie to him in order to get him to cooperate. Oh, and did I mention the breeding program? Like, really. They're fully sapient creatures, but they have freaking breeding programs. How would people react if someone suggested that smart people should only breed with each other, to create a superior race of really smart humans, Homo Sapience Sapience, if you will? (Yeah, I know this is the actual category of modern humans, bear with me.) Does that not sound just a little bit disturbing? And yet, that's exactly how Temeraire's species was created. Dragons are also not considered equal citizens - quite possibly not even in France, right after the revolution. But why?

This could neatly lead to Napoleon. I didn't really have strong emotions towards him as an antagonist, which might strengthen my previous point about how the story is more character driven and less focused on the war. He also participates in dragon depersonalization when he wants to abduct Temeraire even after he hatched. An understandable desire, certainly. The rough comparison might be, say, a Russian royal baby abducted and raised by communists, then a royalist supporter attempting to reabduct them after they are already teenaged. And yes, I could've just swapped Russian with French and Communist with Revolutionary, but for some reason this was in my mind. Either way, it's still abduction of a sapient person who frankly doesn't want it. So yeah.

Here I want to delve into a slightly less related topic - mostly persona; musings. You see, I only thought of reading His Majesty's Dragon because I've read another book by Naomi Novik - Spinning Silver, which I was recommended for its Jewish representation. Now, I knew coming in that this book doesn't contain any Jews. I just assumed that if I enjoyed Spinning Silver, it probably wasn't just because it felt like pretty much the best Jewish representation I've seen in a book. I still took a second or two to think about whether there might be something interesting to explore about Jews in this world. Plus, I thought about my opinions towards the historical Napoleon, which are definitely informed by my Judaism.

Regarding the first point of those, I'm afraid it's unlikely for Jews to be really affected in an interesting manner by this change in the world. Dragons do appear in Jewish folklore sometimes, but not really a lot and it really depends on your definition of dragons. There probably was, at some point in history, a Judean dragon force - but it was destroyed long ago, and any possible Jewish traditions on dragon handling were likely lost to history. During the time the book takes place, emancipation for Jewish people around Europe is barely starting. Jews served in the French army at the time, I think, but as there still was a degree of antisemitism in France, I doubt any of them was allowed to be a dragon handler. If they were, one of the possible results is the British Corps mocking the French for having Jews among their dragon handlers. So... yeah.

I could write a thing or two about Napoleon and the Jews here - mostly, the guy wanted them to assimilate to French society, which was appreciated by some Jews but unappreciated by many others. I don't think I need to elaborate much, though, as it's not all that relevant. To be honest, I'm rather indifferent to the man.

Do I have anything more to say? I don't know. It's an interesting world, I guess. Maybe I should talk about the details, like the type of dragon Temeraire actually is, or how Laurence's first love got married to someone else due to the conflict with his station as a dragon handler, or Napoleon's fascinating plan - most interesting because apparently it was never attempted before. It was an interesting book, which I may have misunderstood because I was focused on too general worldbuilding? That doesn't really sound right, but it might be a part of it.

I can probably be persuaded to buy the next book, but I actually think I may have bought too many books lately. I don't have a nice budget for that, considering I am yet to have regular income, so I do need to consider my financial decisions better.

Anyway, adieu! Until next time! Thank you for reading.

#temeraire #his majesty's dragon #naomi novik #arch reads #dragons!#intelligent dragons!#jewish fantasy #(touched upon)#also #is laurence his middle name or last name?#i didn't quite get that #long post #(i think)

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pyrofilth · 11 months ago

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I completely understand that some people do not want kids now or ever. That is completely fine and I will support their decision completely. However, what I will not support is the dehumanization of children. Calling kids "crotch goblins" is genuinely weird. That is a person, they are learning about the world and have not been in it for very long, but they are still a person.

It baffles me that people look at kids and are just disgusted that they exist, viewing them as some "creature" rather than another human being like themselves. Have you all actually looked into why you do that (referring to the people who are child-free and dehumanize kids)? I'm not saying it's going to magically change your mind and make you want to be a parent but holy fuck. Can we treat children with respect?

Despite a somewhat popular belief, being a kid is stressful and hard. How much autonomy do you truly have as a kid? How stressful is it to have to be assigned homework and be expected to learn a bunch of new information pretty much every day? How about dealing with other kids, who can be quite mean and leave lasting trauma?

You were a kid once! "And I hated myself then too!" Well, one, I'm very sorry to hear that you had a negative view of yourself as a child, I genuinely hope it has improved. Two, why does that mean you get to bash on them and treat them as unimportant? Do you not wish maybe adults were kinder to you when you were a kid? Feeling as though your voice actually meant something?

And again, I'm not saying you need to love being around children and want to work with them or take care of them. All I'm saying is that you should treat them as you would another adult, with respect. And yes, I know there is a huge asterisk on that previous sentence, but I hope we all have enough common sense to know that I don't mean anything problematic and for it to be age appropriate.

Fuck, man. Is it really that hard to just be kind?

#children are people #childhood trauma #treat children with respect #stop calling children “crotch goblins”#you're being weird

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anisecandy · 1 year ago

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Okay, I’ve had this on my mind for a while. What would the Symbrock goo children (Carnage, Foundation 5 and Sleeper) call Peter now that he is effectively dating their parents?

Actually, what if Sleeper was spawned while they were dating?

I’m not really the right person to call about this, since I’ve never been really invested in the, well, family, children and such part of the shipping happening anywhere. But personally, I think first of all, it very much depends on the symbiote we’re speaking about.

The quintuplets for example don’t seem to have very strong familial ties with Venom and as such, probably couldn’t care less about their dating life. They were crappy parents anyway, who gives a damn!

Carnage, or rather, Red if I’m not mistaken? might get a kick out of it though. She(afaik, that's the pronouns this symbiote tends to use? or at least, that’s what Cassady tended to use for her?) isn’t super close with their parents either, but her host definitely loved to address the familial dynamic between them in a mocking way. And, since they refer to Venom as “Daddy”, they would probably jump at an opportunity to call Peter “Mommy”, especially since it’s even more disrespectful, as in this context it would effeminate him in a pejorative way. Heck, they might even make some jokes likening him to an evil step-mother? I think that might be on brand!

Now, Sleeper on the other hand… Sleeper is the Symbiote’s and Eddie’s unquestionable favorite, a golden child. They clearly love them and most importantly for this headcanon discussion, they recognize Eddie as their other parent and as such, appropriately call him “father”. Which sets a precedent for Sleeper to accept having familial ties outside of pure genetics. However, the thing is that Eddie’s not just Symby’s partner — for Sleeper he really stepped up as a full on dad, being very involved in its upbringing and caring of its wellbeing. Considering Sleeper’s mostly cold and logical personality, I’m willing to risk a guess that without it they wouldn’t accept Eddie as their other parent. As such, how they would refer to Peter, would be, I think, dependent not on his relationship with their parents, but on his relationship with themself. If the timeline of spidervenom relationship would align so that Sleeper would be born while Peter would be around and Peter would also decide to treat them as his own (which, I have to admit, I’m not sure if I can see happening easily, but hey, maybe they started dating a whole couple of years back. or maybe this is an au), then Sleeper could also recognize him as a parental figure. And, considering his earthly up-bringing, he would most likely refer to him as “father” as well, according to the typical custom!

#spidervenom #spideyvenom #venom #sleeper symbiote #eddie brock #peter parker #venom comics #venom symbiote #spider man #headcanon #ask

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merryfortune · 3 months ago

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I Scream for Ice-Cream but You Scream For Me

Written for the Rarest of Rare Pairs Fic-a-thon on Dreamwidth

Prompt: Any: Any/Any(+) - Sticky situation

Title: I Scream for Ice-Cream but You Scream For Me

Ship: Sharena/Nerþuz

Fandom: Fire Emblem Heroes

Rating: M

Word Count: 1,675

Warnings: Choose Not to Warn

Tags: Food Kink, Food Play, Sexual Content, Smut, Consent Issues, Kissing, Groping, Licking, Size Difference, Inappropriate Behaviour, Semi-Public Lewdness,

Always dress for the appropriate occasion!

Sharena had been told that over and over again since she was a child.

She had always been something of a ball of energy, hard to direct into practical means and typically a little clumsy. Sharena had plenty of fond memories of being scolded by her mother for what she wore and what she did in her clothes. Whether it was for dragging her good and pretty little dresses through the mud or trying to argue that she ought to wear her play clothes to a fancy dress gala, Sharena had been a handful. Her Mother’s ire made her chuckle in recollection but her wisdom continued to be pertinent.

For example, her work clothes which marked her as the heroine princess of the Order of Heroes was not appropriate beachwear. Even if she had foregone her armour and scarf upon learning the agenda for the day.

Waking up, putting on her clothes, Sharena paid no attention to if it truly matched the day’s intentions. It was a day in, day out humdrum beat of her schedule. Perfectly normal so she wanted to wear something which was comfortable and practical. Even if it ended up being a “take the day off and go check on the new Heroes who are celebrating all things fun in the sun” kind of day and Sharena thought… Yippee! Too easy! She loved the beach and she only had to say hello. After that she could do anything she liked and she thought maybe she would enjoy having an ice treat from the side lines.

Yes, well, about that…

Just as much as Sharena hadn’t thought about what she was going to put on to wear today, she had thought equally as little about how she was going to take it off. Wrongly assuming it would occur closer to her bedtime rather than the middle of the day.

Five new Heroes had rolled up for a wonderful beach day: Olivia, Hríd, Gullveig paired with Seiðr, and oh… Nerþuz!

It was always lovely to see Nerþuz, of course. Even if Sharena was, ahem, very surprised to see Nerþuz in such… little clothing. But this was a beach, it would make sense for her to wear swimwear. The colour and cut of said fabrics really suited her, however, not that Sharena was examining her or anything. Just an innocent and harmless observation.

Honestly, wearing a swimsuit and chat about the warm, balmy weather was one of the more normal things Nerþuz had ever done in Sharena’s presence, actually.

Things had been off to a strange start with her, Sharena would be the first and fastest to say, but she now considered Nerþuz to be a dear friend. She was a little eccentric, yes, but seeing how she was able to get Olivia out of her shell was proof that deep down, Nerþuz had a heart of gold. Her head was just a little in the clouds.

With the other Heroes greeted, Sharena happily allowed herself to get drawn into Nerþuz’s infamous atmosphere. She was so peculiarly easy-going and relaxed with a certain charm to her, a glint in her eye, she was utterly alluring vision of the summertime divine in this instance. So, Sharena kept yap, yap, yapping with Nerþuz whilst the other Heroes opted to socialise amongst themselves or with the Summoner.

Sharena had all of Nerþuz’s attention and vice-versa. Which made sense since Nerþuz had something that she wanted to show Sharena.

“Tada!” Nerþuz said. “Isn't it cute? I have been wanting to show it to you all afternoon.”

“Wow, it's me.” Sharena gawked at the ice-cream that Nerþuz had thrust closer to her.

A very strange and one of a kind ice-cream given that it was imbued with a certain power to allow Nerþuz’s transformation in battle but still an ordinary ice-cream in that it was, well, ice-cream. A chilly treat perfect for a warm afternoon, vanilla soft serve piled high inside of a thick paper cone and dusted with raspberry sherbert. The curves of the ice-cream were adorned with crunchy, edible pearls that shone in the sunshine, a berry flavoured madeleine, and a sugar cookie which looked just like Sharena.

“It's so well-painted, it looks too good to eat.” Sharena laughed.

“Indeed.” Nerþuz agreed. “But, it is very tasty.”

She ever so elegantly plucked the sugar cookie off its perch atop one of the mid-to-lower curves of her ice-cream cone. She was ever so careful as to not touch the cookie in a way that her fingers never obscured Sharena’s face in the painted cookie. Such care, portrayed ever so effortlessly by Nerþuz, made Sharena nervous. And rightfully so.

Nerþuz put the biscuit towards her mouth and she bit hard through it. The face of the Sharena cookie shattered, spooking the actual Sharena as Nerþuz ate coyly. She cared not for crumbs as they scattered over her plump lips and even atop her breasts.

A shiver ran down Sharena’s spine as she made long and sultry, sustained eye contact with Sharena. She chewed, like the masticating animal she really was beneath her unearthly glamour as a goddess then swallowed lasciviously. Sharena watched as her throat showed a slight lump as it travelled down before she smacked her lips together contentedly.

“It makes me curious though, is the real deal as delicious as it?” Nerþuz wondered aloud as she finished swallowing.

“Ah, well, um-!” Sharena squeaked as Nerþuz surprised her.

She swooped in and kissed Sharena’s cheek. She bent down and swallowed all of Sharena’s vision, causing her to go red in the face. Her lips trailed against Sharena’s skin, even the pale hairs along her jawline and made them stand on end as a sudden intensity spurred between them.

“Mmhm,” Nerþuz murmured to herself, “just as sweet but… so much softer, oops-”

Nerþuz interrupted herself as she oh so accidentally got ice-cream all down Sharena’s front. She had to bend down so far to meet Sharena, a mere child of Midgard, and then acting like a child herself, she purposefully worked the ice-cream into Sharena’s clothes - and her body underneath.

“Hey, st-stop it, that’s cold.” Sharena squeaked, embarrassed. “Wh-What if someone sees us?”

Shiver after shiver ran down her spine as her body reacted to being touched like this and being smothered in freezing cold ice-cream. It smeared down her front and with the mess guided by Nerþuz’s hand, the sticky sweet cream found its way onto her skin as well.

“That’s okay,” Nerþuz whispered, “I’ll clean you up. No one will even notice.” Her voice was silky smooth as she tried to console Sharena who buzzed with all sorts of pent-up, nervous energy.

Sharena tried to lean away but Nerþuz followed her, utterly unfazed. She got up nice and close and personal with Sharena, licking her intently and kissing her afterwards.

The meeting of their lips was messy, a clash of mismatched and engulfed Sharena in how ravenous Nerþuz was in her pursuit of all things sweet. Her lips were plump and greedy, she stole Sharena’s breath away as she was kissed and kissed again. Nerþuz’s taste was stained with the sweet sensations of vanilla ice-cream and flecked with buttery crumbs. It would have been delicious were it not so forceful but Nerþuz wanted what she wanted and what she wanted above all was Sharena.

Sharena buckled underneath her own embarrassment and closed her eyes hard. She was entirely unconvinced that none of the other Heroes wouldn’t notice her being all but molested by Nerþuz in the shade of the far tree at the north of the beach. Sure, all of them had gone further down the shoreline in search of the Summoner but still! It's not like they were completely alone out here even if the seagulls had ceased their crowing in this part of paradise.

Nerþuz began to unwrap Sharena from her clothes. Sharena shimmied out of them in some vain attempt at helping. Or if only to get the smashed to smithereens madeleine crumbs off her or the pearls now lost in the folds of her clothes. Nerþuz pulled and grabbed and groped at her, Sharena moaned lewdly as she was manhandled by the goddess.

With her white shirt pulled off and tossed into the sand around them, Sharena only had her mini-skirt for chastity. Oh, it made her knees knock. The beach breeze tickled her and caused her nipples to pebble underneath her bra but her bra came off soon as well. Completely bare, if she hazarded a look down at herself and Nerþuz, Sharena saw the extent of how she had been painted in ice-cream.

It was soaked in and smeared between her small breasts. It left a sticky residue on her but it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, just humiliating. What if someone saw? The pair of them looked an unusual sight with Nerþuz coming down to her knees and placing herself at Sharena’s chest height, licking her clean of the mess that she had made of the mortal.

The late afternoon heat intensified through the lens of Sharena’s reddened embarrassment, causing the ice-cream smeared on her to melt faster than it may have otherwise. The sherbert once powdered atop the soft serve now tingled upon her skin and Nerþuz licked it all up with sexual glee. Her tongue was textured with an unusual and inhuman roughness but Nerþuz appeared mindful of that as she was gentle with how she used her tongue. She appreciated the softness - and the sweetness - of Sharena’s body and the ice-cream, too.

Nerþuz lapped at Sharena’s chest incessantly, with her eyes alight with hunger. She sucked Sharena’s left nipple noisily and pinched her right, massaging Sharena’s small breast with the rest of her palm that cupped her flesh. Sharena panted, her heart raced and her earnestness made Nerþuz’s dessert all the more delicious to her.

And, of course, confirmed to Nerþuz that the sugar cookie Sharena was far, far inferior to the dulcet perfection of her precious and most favourite child of Midgard.

#femslash #fire emblem heroes #feh #sharena (fire emblem)#Nerþuz (fire emblem)#sharena x Nerþuz #Nerþuz x sharena #sharebuz #nerena #writing tag #I Scream for Ice-Cream but You Scream For Me #rarest of rare pairs series

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weaselbeaselpants · 6 months ago

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The different shots/alt dialogue from the James and the Giant Peach script

Because this kind of stuff is interesting and YEAH I'M SHARING ALL OF IT!! Find the full script here.

James has a bit longer dialogue with Miss Spider.

Glorious Sponge hatesink goodness.

Alternative to the final film, where James doesn't realize he's been stop-motionized until in the actual peach in the original script he did in fact notice he was changing. More importantly, his initial literal fall-in on the bugs and being scared at them because they're in the dark and clearly inhuman was always one of my favorite in the movie. It worked because it actively plays with how scary giant talking insects would realistically be and how uncanny their designs can especially feel in silhouette, just like my beloved pin-collection.

Also, there's alternate dialogue from Earthworm and Centipede about escaping the hill and Spiker and Sponge. The disc of each other bugs, while accurate, is so hilarious to read typed out.

Centipede was going to threaten to beat James up. Good times.

Centipede is both more and less direct on his hitting on Spider. Besides that this extended bit offers moar Grasshopper and Earthworm twittering, though no "LET'S GET OUTTA HERE" from Centipede or "Marvelous Pigs in Satin" from Glowworm.

Earthworm was GOING TO talk-sing more?! YOU MONSTERS!

Also, someone on the script clearly wanted Centipede to mention how he wants to get plastered all night.

Spiker and Sponge rn.

Earthworm being sarcastic is such a mood. Literally my muse.

Even though it can be reasonably assumed given his accent (which is why it was probably cut) Centipede straight up calls New York his hometown. I'm not a New Yorker myself so I don't know for sure but I thought different Manhattan-ites say they're from different cities/towns rather than treat Manhattan like a single town. Y'know?

Grasshopper meanwhile is a killjoy intellectual all the time through the shark scene

Lol Centipede speakin truths.

Cut the line in Eating the Peach from Centipede specifically and changed Glowworm's line.

Spider hitting in some different zingers at Centipede than in the final film.

James's nightmare is completely different than in the final film as is James exact waking up and realizing they're in the North Pole. Though the squabble between Centipede and the other bugs is the same, mostly, the resolution of Centipede happily deciding to get a compass from the ships is different. Appreciate the change. Good bit of back-and-forth visual storytelling.

In a bit that's rather OUT of character, none of the bugs protest James jumping in freezing water after Centipede. In fact, because Spider says 'get on my back' first it kinda makes it sound like she made James come with her rather than offer to help as another adult offering to look after a child who's putting themselves in danger.

Also, even though the outcome is the same, it looks like the entire skeleton pirate scene was different and Centipede didn't talk during any of it and was a jackass about his stealing which is very out of character for him and led to the skeletons come alive. I like tho that at no point in time does the script say "Jack Skellington-faced"-pirate which is good on them and proof that it really was a cute cameo/reuse of puppetry and I'm still not over Jack getting top billing over the main characters in this movie's merch.

No Spiderpede kiss on the cheek, sadly. Her exclaiming her happiness is such a different vibe than her cute like "I don't know whether to kill you or kiss you" schpeal. This was the 90s after all--although, even though it is like this in the final movie anyway, the image of Spider pulling him up onto the peach all domestic-hero like while he says she saved him? That's cute. I liek me some malewife (it's appropriate in this case, shut up) Centipede.

The failing-to apologize dialogue between Grasshopper and Centipede was better in the final film. The characters have such a different way of talking to each other and it's much brisker and nicer and shows his newfound respect for Centipede that Grasshopper immediately just trusts Centipede with navigating again.

Dialogue's a little bit different as the peach-goers see New York for the first time.

Most importantly, the climax with the Rhino is different. No "I'm not afraid of You", James protecting the Bugs by telling them to get into the threads, which more directly separates them.

The dialogue of the New Yorkers thinking the Peach is a bomb or aliens is a nice reference to the original book, where that's exactly what happened there.

Alt. headlines for the ending newsreel stories. I'm gonna be honest I like Earthworm's gig in the subway a bit more than in the final film where he becomes a skincare tycoon. The idea that he just loves the subway in all it's dirtiness is adorable.

It is, however, very cute to see Centipede and Spider took up dancing together and became as popular a duo as Fred Astaire and Ginger Rodgers.

And finally, we have a kind of disturbing note to go out on with Spiker and Sponge going crazy and treated as zoo animals. I think their punishment is enough as is and has enough disturbing conotations no less. No need of the mental breakdown.

#james and the giant peach #roald dahl #henry selick #james and the giant peach behind the scenes

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fideidefenswhore · 1 year ago

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I'm really tired of the locket story in Tudor shows and books. But wasn't it from Jane Dormer? Who is Fuller?

I used to feel that way, too, but I've come to accept that it's such a dramatically effective, potent story that ofc it will be used, and ofc it's unlikely its staying power is going away anytime soon (although I did find it hysterically funny when some accused the scene in AB2021 of 'copying' The Tudors...it's a 17th cent source, bruh...it was in the 1970s version, too, so how do we know Tudors wasn't 'copying'--). I read a Tudor novel set in 1536 that didn't include it recently and was actually shocked, I think that's the first time that's ever happened (but then this novel was very faithful to the primary sources, of which this is not one).

Obviously it's frustrating that it's treated as if it was a contemporary source, though.

So actually the story comes from both Jane Dormer and Thomas Fuller (Fuller includes the locket and Dormer doesn't, but besides that they're similar); in pop history this tends to be where the claim the specific incident is corroborated by 'multiple contemporary sources' comes in, despite both these sources being 17th century (it's possible that they were aped and revised to some extent from the version that exists in Sander's Anglican Schism as well, as that came first and he would have certainly been in Dormer's circle). Dormer being portrayed as an 'intimate courtier' to this period is also disengenous, she certainly was to Mary I, but she was not even a zygote in 1536. Weir explains the chain for the story as having been Jane Seymour ---> Mary --> Jane Dormer, but to believe that you have to believe Jane thought this was an appropriate story to divulge to her stepdaughter. You know. That one that begins with her sitting on her father's lap.

What's actually frustrating to me (although I believe The Tudors probably remains the best version) with recent productions is that okay, I get wanting to use this story (even if it stretches claims of authenticity and 'only following the AB Bible' as the AB2021 production claimed), but if you insist on the creative choice of this particular 'historic moment', then don't cherry-pick it.

The king seeming to affect Jane Seymour, and having her on his knee, as Queen Anne espied, who then was thought to be with child, she for anger and disdain miscarried, as she said, betwitting the king with it, who willed her to pardon him, and he would not displease her in that kind there-after.

And then, this is generally attached, as well, although it's not actually mentioned that it's what happened with this specific incident, it's in the same text (Dormer):

For he, carrying her up to the Court, placed her with the Lady Anne Boleyn, the Queen, in whose service the king affected her, for which there was often much scratching and bye blows between the queen and her maid.

It does actually say 'between', not merely 'from', but we never really see Jane so much as defend herself (beyond, er...hiding behind the chair, Tudors, and running away, BSR) in any of these portrayals so, that's...food for thought on what they're trying to portray, and the sort of archetypes these women are generally placed in (Weir rather disingenously insists that this is a reliable source but that the 'between' is wrong, ie that it was one-sided:

Lots of sources tell us that there were scratches and blows between the pair. It was a queen's privilege to physically chastise her maids, and from what we know about both of their characters, I don't think it was Jane doing the scratching.)

'Lots of sources' is interesting because Fuller doesn't claim that, the 'scratches and blows' bit. This is the Fuller account:

It is currently traditioned that Queen Anne [...] espying a jewel pendant about her neck snatched thereat (desirous to see, the other being unwilling to show it) and casually hurt her hand with her own violence [...]

Anyway, so of the Jane Dormer account (the bolded is what's been omitted in the last two depictions); it's interesting insofar as what is kept in and what is kept out or 'revised'. I still contend The Tudors' is the best for portraying the emotional complexity (although it includes the 'peace be, sweetheart' that is not actually in either of these sources, and seems it originated in Strickland and was later misattributed as coming from Dormer by Weir); but The Tudors isn't exempt (it also suffers, imo, from having gone with the Retha Warnicke hypothesis). What does it tell us about what we believe will appeal the most to audiences, what is kept and what is left out? Jealousy, betrayal, women getting into physical altercations with their rivals, and in the case of AB2021 and BSR, Henry's reactions of either apathy or disdain/anger after some form of reconciliation and renewed rapport gives contrast; but importantly is placed immediately after the jousting accident, and thus seem to suggest that he is no longer 'all there'.

This is where, narratively, we struggle, the question is, why? Why include only these aspects, and not the other? This is where Foxe's 'mystery' of Anne Boleyn's fall comes in. The story is unbelievable and inconceivable in many respects, but knowing the ending, knowing the audience knows the ending, is just too tempting. Any inclusion of that last part (asking for her forgiveness, making any promise, however false, perhaps even the suggestion of guilt on Henry's part) would just complicate the picture.

And that's revealing about how we sort of try to make history digestible, but narratively, it's pretty disappointing. All the flash but none of the substance, none of the pathos, at least not of their bond. Anne is alone and she's going to die alone and once she does, her rival will triumph, and they have to telegraph that, and she's not allowed any hope.

Arguably it doesn't matter if it's inaccurate anyway, but that's my point entirely-- they've decided it's important enough to include, but for the most part, have only kept the pieces that lend to shock value. In some ways that's rather damning.

#anon

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ultimateaclrecovery · 2 years ago

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I have maybe found a horse to buy?!?!?!?

I tried her for the first time on Friday and am now working out the process of a deposit/short term lease to hopefully end up buying her! For 500 dollars I get to ride her up to five days a week (current owners want to keep her for two) for three weeks, and then if she passes the vet check and i still want to buy her, the 500 goes to the 9.5k purchase price.

Her name is Luna and She’s 11 and has had a lot of training, especially dressage training, and she is actually a pony. As in she is actually large pony sized and omg she is so tiny. Especially working with her on the ground, I am just like you are so small. I am just 5’4” and she didn’t feel too small to ride, but she’s definitely at the bottom of what is appropriate for me size wise. And because my barn mostly goes to hunter/jumper it’d be awkward to do the hunters with her because of striding. I’m not like big into showing, but I do want to go to the local ones and I do want to get the pretty ribbons. But then there is always the jumpers where it doesn’t matter. And I’d probably rather do the jumpers anyway. Or just eventing where her dressage training would come in handy

She has done a fair bit of jumping, and has supposedly gone up to 2’9” and could probably do 3 feet, which is solidly above where I have Ben jumping to provide more than enough runway to move up realistically. And seems like she’s pretty happy and confident at the two foot 2 3 range which is where I am more or less at now. And she’s the first horse I’ve tried that I’ve willing to try jumping on. And it’s nice that she has had some solid dressage training for if I do want to eventing with her.

She gave me my favorite ride since I’ve been back in Denver. She was a mostly easy ride, but not like fully push button and she would go better if I rode more correctly, which is always lovely. But I felt confident and capable on her which I haven’t felt in a while. And she was way more fun then the couple of school horses I rode.

Her owners are selling her because she doesn’t like small children and does not enjoy being a baby sitter. She has bucked them off many times to the point where the dad won’t let the kids on her on anymore. And will buck to get out of doing lessons or boring work. So that’s obviously a bit concerning in terms of sass and potential for things to go wrong. But I am not a small child. And I would be doing more with her than just riding in circles. You can’t tell though that she’s a bit of a busy body and wants to always be doing something, or she will find her own thing to do and you probably won’t like it.

But she was a perfect angel in my lesson on Friday. She was really adjustable and didn’t get fussed over my questionable jumping position or occasional miscues. I just rebalanced and fixed it and she rebalanced and fixed with me. And you can tell that she likes jumping and likes to work. And she was so cuddly. And has the most gorgeous long flowing mane and I just want to braid ribbons into it. She was just so sweet. (And def a treat hunter but then you just cuddle and it’s fine).

So on the positives we have fun and easy to ride. Well trained. Could fit all the fun and tacky sparkly pony gear like saddle pads and boots and blankets. Shes cute and cuddly. She’s also relatively cheap, and she lives out in a paddock at my barn which is like 80ish cheaper than a stall and there she doesn’t need turn out which is 120, so that makes keeping her easy. She’s a welsh cob which tend to be easy keepers, she only has front shoes and she hasn’t had many issues.

Cons: she is tiny, which would make placing well in the hunters interesting, and adds a challenge to jumping higher (but probably less of a challenge then dealing with a green horse. Also less far too fall). Her potential for easiness and bucking, will have to sus this out over the next month. She does have a bit a club foot but doesn’t pose any/much problems. She has kind of a hard to fit back so I’m going to have a struggle finding a good saddle for her.

So I just have to sort out how much I like riding her verses potential sassiness. And sort out how I feel about how small she, weighing the cute factor versus potential competitive and resale issues, vs not far to fall vs how she feels as a mover and takes up leg and working with on the ground.

And then deal with the logistics of getting s vet check and searching for a saddle and bridle, and all the rest of the gear. (But since she’s owned by a barn family they’d let me borrow their tack for a while, while I’m getting my mine. Which a plus but then the minus there is their kids will really miss having her as their pony and will still want to let which could be okay and maybe cute or could be annoying and potentially problematic.)

So many thoughts and stuff to sort, but I mostly have a plan and a path forward! I am excited about the possibility and also feeling very overwhelmed.

#anyone have any thoughts on adults buying ponies?#I keep flip flopping how I feel about it #mostly I am glad I get to ride her for a couple weeks before officially deciding anything #and now I have to go figure out how to do a vet check #which feels scary #and official #I have never called a vet before #I am nervous but also starting to feel excited #she was my favorite ride in a long time #and imagine a cute lil black pony covered in sparkly purple everything #she’ll be so cute!#I’ve always wanted my own little pony #and now I might like actually be able to get one???#horsblr #pony #horses #buying a horse #Luna

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shadowthrone-ammanas · 2 years ago

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Xmas Invite

Summary: Cooking Cat invites Empress over for Xmas.

It was that time of year again. Multicolored lights and tinsel lined the Metro and all its shops. The harnesses on the train cats were switched out for more festive looking ones – luckily, to the relief of no doubt everyone who frequented the Metro trains, though the sleigh bells from last year had made a return, they were silent this year, only for visual decoration. The food carts were decorated too, sometimes in big ways like the ice cream stand that somehow managed to get a giant inflatable snowman on its roof. And a lot of them changed up their menus to include special Xmas treats.

Cooking Cat would have to stop by one of those before heading home to get a treat for Mu and herself too because why not? Perhaps while here she’d get Mu another Xmas gift as well from one of the various shops. How many gifts was the proper amount to get for one’s adopted daughter anyway? The more the merrier, right? Well, she’d have a look around when done with her actual reason for coming down this way today.

Empress’ jewelry shop was decorated too. No doubt because, even if it was a front for gang business, the sales from the traffic Xmas brought in was still substantial enough to be worth the effort. Upon entering, the festive tunes playing over the stores intercom became audible as well, completing the Xmas vibe. If one didn’t know better it’d be easy to mistake Empress as an Xmas person.

Standing at the counter, Empress looked her usual prime and proper self. Her expression softened a bit as her gaze found Cooking Cat. “Oh, Cookie. How lovely it is to see you again. How are you?”

“Fabulous.” Upon reaching the counter, Cooking Cat placed the Tupperware she’d been carrying in front of Empress. “I know Xmas ain’t your thing these days but I went ahead and made you some Xmas cookies like I used to do when we was young. Though, I improved the recipe a little and got fancier cookie cutters to make even prettier shapes. I think you’ll like them.”

“Thank you. I appreciate the gesture. Merry Xmas.”

“Now, feel free to say no, if you’re too busy or just don’t want to come, I won’t be offended, but would you like to come over to my place for Xmas this year?”

Empress raised an eyebrow. “Hmm… what about your daughter, Mu, I believe her name was, wouldn’t you rather spend it with her?”

“Of course she’ll be there too. And I already asked her if she’d be okay with you joining us and she said it was.” Actually it had been Mu’s idea for Cooking Cat to invite Empress over upon Cooking Cat separating out some of the cookies they’d made together to give to Empress as a gift. “Unless her being there is a problem for you.” Empress did like her wine and that wasn’t appropriate to drink around a child. “In which case, that’s fine too. I just thought I’d ask since, as far as I know, you don’t have any family to spend it with.”

“No, no. I just thought you might have a problem with someone like me being around her.”

“As long as you don’t talk about the specifics of gang stuff, it won’t be a problem. Which I don’t think you’d do anyway, right?” Not that Mu couldn’t handle it given her past with the Mafia. But that was perhaps all the more reason not to expose her to such stuff any more. Empress wouldn’t though, both out of respect for Cooking Cat as well as the need to keep that stuff secret lest it get out to the authorities.

“I wouldn’t, trust me. So, I suppose I could come. It wouldn’t hurt to leave for a day or two. Besides, I assume you’ll be cooking dinner?”

“Of course and making desert too.” It was one of Cooking Cat’s favorite holidays for that reason; special occasion dinners were extra delightful to prepare.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world then.”

#My writing #ahit #a hat in time #cooking cat #the empress #Christmas fic #12 days of xmas 2022

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loretranscripts · 2 years ago

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Episode 219: Unanswered

January 16th, 2023

Trigger warnings: Murder, child death, xenophobia.

Disclaimer: This transcript is entirely non-profit and fan-made. All credit for this content goes to Aaron Mahnke, creator of Lore podcast. It is by a fan, for fans, and meant to make the content of the podcast more accessible to all. Also, there may be mistakes, despite rigorous editing on my part. Feel free to point them out, but please be nice!

To step inside them is to enter another world – at least, that was the idea. It’s located underground, beneath a hill in West Wycombe, just outside of London, England, and by it, I mean the caves. You enter them through a rather imposing set of iron gates that are situated beneath the ruins of what looks like an old church. There had always been a natural cave there, but in the 1750s, a local man named Francis paid a bunch of out-of-work farmers to widen and deepen it, using the chalk debris as road material all throughout town. What they created was a system of hand-cut rooms and passageways that looked like something out of a medieval fantasy movie, and each chamber has a name: The Entrance Hall, the Triangle, The Miner’s Cave, the Steward’s Chamber; you get the idea. There’s even one called Franklin’s Cave, but I’ll get to that in a moment. Nearly a quarter of a mile down the path, rumoured to be directly below the church that stands at the top of the hill, is the final destination, a place called the Inner Temple. You can walk right up to that room today, but back in the 1750s, it was actually cut off from the rest of the rooms by an underground river that was named (appropriately, I think) the River Styx. All of this, by the way, was crafted so that Francis had a place to hold meetings of a rather unusual social gathering. His full name was Sir Francis Dashwood, and his social group was known as the “Hellfire Club”, and they gathered for all sorts of rituals and celebrations. Oh, and the Franklin Cave I mentioned a moment ago? It was named after one of the group’s members: Benjamin Franklin. For as long as we’ve had society, there have been groups that seem to exist outside of it. Some have been secret, while others have put themselves on full display, but if the story of one group in particular is true, they should all be treated with caution, because some paths into the occult only lead to destruction.

I’m Aaron Mahnke, and this is Lore.

His arrival in America was really what started it all. Benjamin had been born a little north of Naples, Italy back in 1886 – the year coca cola was invented – but in 1904, he and his brother, Antonio, packed up and moved to the United States, chasing after the promise of a better life. Benjamin and his brother settled in Philadelphia, taking on tough, labour-intensive jobs, but early on, cracks appeared in their relationship. It’s said that his very devout Catholic brother wasn’t too fond of Benjamin’s interest in the occult. Unable to get along, Benjamin left the city to find work elsewhere. And for a while, that was York, Pennsylvania, and I’ve not seen anyone else notice this before, but I find it more than coincidental that an occult-obsessed man would travel to one of the hotbeds of witchcraft in America at the time. Heck, just a few years later, in 1929, the York witch trials would take place, where the occult murder of a local white magic practitioner named Nelson Rehmeyer would be convicted. In York, folks believed in the supernatural.

After that, he married a fellow Italian immigrant named Santina, and the couple began trying to build a typical American life together, but that was a steep hill to climb in that era. You see, the last couple of decades of the 1800s and the first couple of decades of the 1900s were the years when a massive wave of Italian immigrants came to America. I have Italian ancestors through my maternal grandmother’s side of the family, and they arrived inside that window as well. But America didn’t treat them kindly – they were branded with stereotypes and pushed to the fringes of society, setting most of them on path into deep poverty and inequality, and this was what Benjamin and his wife found themselves facing. Of course, he did everything he could to fit in. He went by “Benny” instead, gave his last name an American makeover and worked hard, but it wouldn’t be until they moved to Detroit, Michigan that things started to improve. Yes, their financial situation got better - Benny invested in real estate, transforming himself from tenant to landlord - but the biggest change he experienced was a new focus, a new goal, and it all started with the dreams.

Remember, Benny had always been interested in the occult: it’s what had led to the falling out between him and his brother Antonio; it had been the foundation of close friendships, like a fellow Italian immigrant and railyard worker, Aurelius Angelino, back in Pennsylvania. If he was awake, he was thinking about the world beyond our own and how he could harness it. Even in his dreams, he was obsessing over it. In the dreams, Benny believed that he was receiving visions from God, visions of a mission that he was meant to embark on, and a very specific calling. Benny, it seems, was supposed to become a healer and a prophet, and it was in Detroit that he finally leaned into those dreams and made them a reality. You see, Benny and his wife still lived within a pretty tight-knit Italian community, and as his work as a healer and prophet began to increase, people around him noticed and paid attention. Over time, those ideas that he had about world history became the subject of book that he wrote, called “The Oldest History of the World: Discovered by Occult Science.” But mostly, he was focused on his sermons, gatherings where he would invite others to come and hear his teachings about the true history of the world, and it’s said that he even hand-crafted an intricate model of the universe, what he called the “Great Celestial Planet Exhibition”; it was made of wire and wood and paper and wax, and he placed it right in the middle of his makeshift altar in his basement.

But at the core of so many cults is a business model, and for Benny, that was healing. There were hexes and packets of mixed-up herbs that people could buy from him, all promising to aid in the healing of various illnesses. He even offered animal sacrifices for a fee, for those customers who needed something more than a potion, I guess. But healing of this sort was a gamble. Some people purchased his services and found what they were looking for, but many did not, and as the years went on, that sort of business model has a way of creating something new: disgruntled customers. All of it was bound to catch up with Benny; at least, that was the assumption most people would make. The trouble is, Benny wasn’t alone; in fact, American culture at the time was a hotbed of groups just like his, and there’s a lot we can learn from a brief study of a few. Although, truth be told, none of it bodes well for Benny.

***

The world that Benny Evangelist lived in was filled with others just like him. Actually, they ran the spectrum, from brushing right up against the edge of normal, accepted religion, to far out on the fringes of what was even considered normal. There were people like Billy Sunday, a former professional baseball player, who traded in one touring life for another, travelling the country as a fire-and-brimstone preacher, whose message of temperance is thought to have helped spark prohibition. Or how about the House of David, a commune that was founded in Michigan in 1903. The folks who started it, a couple named Benjamin and Mary Purnell, proved that Benny wasn’t even the only cult leader by that name in Michigan. Their group, though, followed the teachings of a different prophet, Joanna Southcott, although she received her information the same way Benny did: through visions. Then there was Margaret Matilda Wright Brown*, who started having visions of her own in 1916 that focused on a lot of Doomsday stuff. Her teachings quickly grew her community to over a thousand followers but fizzled out years later with flavours of elaborate fraud and attempted murder. Out in Kansas City, there was the Adam God cult, started by James Sharp in 1903, after he witnessed a meteor crash and believed it was the Holy Spirit giving him a mission to preach a special message, which, if you’re paying attention, probably feels a bit familiar, doesn’t it? The Adam God cult drew a ton of followers, and they settled on a farm that was gifted to them by a wealthy member. By 1906, they were carrying guns and starting trouble, and two years later it all ended in a violent shoot-out that took five lives. Founder James Sharp and his wife, of course, survived. And these is just a small sampling of the seemingly countless groups like Benny’s that were out the in the early parts of the twentieth century. Maybe it was the growing class divisions that made it possible, perhaps it was the Great Depression; my guess is that it was a combination of a lot of those things and more. One European newspaper reporter asked the rhetorical question in an article in 1927: “How do Americans and English residents of the Riviera amuse themselves? They join cults.” And, honestly, if you read enough of them, it really does start to feel like it was becoming America’s pastime, which leads us back to Benny Evangelist. He might not have been the only prophet out there in the market, not even the only one in Michigan, for that matter, but he was having success.

But like I said before, not every customer was walking away happy. Yes, some were, and those people stuck around, even more convinced than ever that Benny’s healing powers had really chased away their medical problems, but there were just as many who felt that he had failed them. It’s easy to feel their frustration – Benny was apparently charging $10 a session, and while that’s probably what a lot of people today spend on coffee and a bagel each morning, it was roughly two day’s pay back then, the equivalent of about $300 now. It was a big sacrifice, and so when it didn’t pay off, people got upset. Making that an even more bitter pill to swallow was Benny’s new big house. He’d come a long way since his arrival in America a few years before, and some of that had to do with his real estate ventures, but what most people saw was a guy who was making a fat profit off of their suffering. 3587 St. Aubin Street was the address. Benny lived there with Santina and their four children, ranging from eighteen months to eight years old. It was a busy house, where family life was mixed with work, in the normal stuff and the occult. Everyone knew where Benny the healer lived, which is why, on the morning of July 3rd of 1829, a man named Vincent Elias showed up and knocked on their door, and what happened as a result would shake the community to its core.

***

Vincent didn’t kill Benny. I know that’s what you were expecting to hear, so I thought I would get that right out of the way. No, Vincent had paid them a visit because he and Benny were about to wrap up some real estate business; they knew each other well, and were colleagues and friends. What he found when he knocked on the door and let himself in was a scene of absolute horror. No children came running to greet him, so he turned to Benny’s first-floor office and stepped inside. Benny was there, seated at his desk, but he was slumped over in a pool of blood. Oh, and his head? It was on a chair, beside him. Vincent immediately called for the police. It’s said that nearly the entire homicide squad from Detroit rushed to the scene, and when they arrived, they started investigating the rest of the house. Upstairs, the bodies of all four children, as well as Santina, were found brutally murdered. Benny might have been the only one who had been decapitated, but that doesn’t mean the others didn’t die brutal deaths. I’ll just leave it at that. The killer, however, hadn’t been neat and clean. There was no attempt to conceal their movement through the house, with bloody shoeprints marking each of their steps throughout. The police even found a bloody fingerprint. You don’t need to watch a lot of murder mystery shows to know how sloppy that was. Of course, the first assumption was that some disgruntled member of Benny’s cult had shown up in anger and killed the entire family. As we’ve already learned, he was getting rich off of other people’s misfortunes, and that sure doesn’t sound like the sort of life that leads to a happy ending. It didn’t help that there were a lot of occult objects found inside the house, painting a vivid picture for the police about who Benny really was, so it was a safe assumption. But even though they asked the entire neighbourhood and offered a big, $1000 reward, no one had anything useful to offer them.

They did also toy briefly with another theory, though. A note was found in the house that basically said, “This is your last chance.” Some people felt that it had the trappings of extortion, a common element found in a criminal organisation known as the “Black Hand”, and yes, they had spent years preying upon well-off Italian immigrants, but by 1929, they had faded away thanks to the growth of a new group – the Mafia. To the police, the letter felt like an amateur’s attempt to frighten Benny to hand over money – not the type of person who would kill a family of six in cold blood. The final theory was about a mysterious “demolition crew”, that Benny was buying some reclaimed lumber from. In fact, just the night before, he had called a watchman at a house the demolition crew was taking apart, so he could set up a time the next morning for them to deliver the wood to his house and receive payment. Maybe they showed up the morning of July 3rdand just decided it would be easier to kill everyone and take the cash. I don’t know, that seems weak to me, they were probably much more likely to just haggle the price higher. They had a business to run, after all, and if they killed all of their customers, that business would fall apart.

And that was the result of their investigation – three separate theories, no arrests, and no answer to the question of who truly killed the Evangelist family. The only witness that ever turned up was the family dog, who was found on a porch of a neighbour a few months later. The poor pup’s reputation proceeded it, too, and the woman refused to take it in and adopt it, and obviously the police weren’t able to get any useful information out of it, either. The family’s funeral service was held three days after their bodies were discovered, on July 6th. Over three thousand people attended, although I have to wonder how many people were their because they loved and respected them, and how many showed up to watch their anger and frustration be buried six feet below the grass of the cemetery. And as far as we know, their killer was never brought to justice.

***

Humans have always been drawn to those who offer answers. Exactly how that desire has played out over the centuries is a varied and flavourful collection of groups that have left their mark on history. From the Hellfire Club’s debaucherous gatherings of society’s elite, to those struggling to make the most of their lives, cults have always been a vendor designed to provide what people are looking for. Most of them, though, leave those questions unanswered, and in the case of Benny Evangelist and his faithful followers, where the goal was physical healing, it ended in something worse: blood. Now, I could tell you that their house on St. Aubin Street was eventually torn down, but you probably know better than to assume that means the story has faded away. Events like that have a way of living on, even when all the people involved no longer are. Legends, whispers, rumours, all of it keeps them alive. But for Benny Evangelist, there’s one more enticing detail that’s kept people coming back, time and time again, to study the mystery. A little while ago, I mentioned that Benny had a friend back in York, Pennsylvania, who worked with him at the railyard there. His name, as I said, was Aurelius Angelino, and not only was he a fellow Italian immigrant, but he actually came from the same hometown back near Naples, and both men were obsessed with the occult. But here’s the thing I didn’t tell you: ten years before the brutal murder of Benny and his entire family, Aurelius Angelino gathered up his twin four-year-old boys and killed them while his wife was making dinner. Similar to Benny’s killer, Angelino used an axe, and similar to Benny’s crime scene, the police found a single bloody fingerprint. Now, Angelino was caught red-handed in the truest sense of the word, and because his behaviour wasn’t viewed as “sane”, he was sent to a psychiatric institution for the criminally insane. And then, four years later, he escaped. And I know what you’re thinking – what if Angelino was angry that Benny left town and made a better life for himself. Perhaps he followed him to Michigan and found his old friend at the centre of an occult gathering, wielding the power of a true prophet, and maybe he was overcome with jealousy, leading him to kill Benny’s entire family, and that could be it. But there’s one detail that’s left investigators and researchers confounded and stumped for decades, because it points to a timeline and chain of events that no one is prepared to unpack, that somehow, and in some way, Angelino didn’t kill his own kids back in 1919, and that Benny’s 1929 murder was an act of revenge and not jealousy. And that detail? The bloody fingerprint found in Angelino’s house back in 1919 was an exact match to someone he knew very well. It was the fingerprint of Benny Evangelist.

***

Do an internet search for terms like “cult” and “secret society”, and you’re bound to find a whole slew of books and websites that talk about them. One reason is because they have always been popular to discuss, but another would be because they are real things that have historically made a lot of people nervous. To that end, I’ve got one more unrelated tale of unusual groups to share with you, and all you need to do to hear about it is stick around through this brief sponsor break.

[Sponsor Break]

William Morgan was trying to get ahead in life. Born in 1774 in Virginia, he worked as a bricklayer and a stonemason, work that eventually pulled him north to New York. He seemed like the kind of guy who might settle down, he had a wife and two kids, after all, but the only reputation he really had was that of a drunken drifter. He would pursue one business venture, only to fail, pack up his household, and move on to the next, rinse and repeat, and that was his life for a long time. Honestly, reading about his early life makes me feel like one of the very few respectable qualities this man possessed was his determination and confidence. William was sure he could find a way to put himself on the map, to make something of himself, and in a way, he eventually did, just not the way he intended. It happened when William was chatting with a friend of his named David Miller, who ran a struggling newspaper. Now, the two men had a lot in common. Both of them were horrible at running a business, both firmly believed that they were destined for greatness, and both had very few rules about how they were going to achieve it, which, I’m sure you’d agree, is not a healthy combination. William had an idea, though. All around him, he kept hearing about a secret society that seemingly controlled his entire world, they were embedded deep within the government of the newly born United States of America, and they used that power to become the wealthiest folks around. Who was this group? The Freemasons.

Now, I highly doubt there’s anyone out there who hasn’t at least heard of the Freemasons. A full third of the signers of the Declaration of Independence were members of the Freemasons; so were other significant Americans, both then and now. George Washington, Paul Revere, Mark Twain, and, uh… Shaquille O’Neal. Anyway, William’s new business idea was really simple – he was going to infiltrate the ranks of the Freemasons, learn all of their incriminating secrets, and then write it up as a book, which David Miller would print and sell. It smelled like easy money to these men, so they got right to work. William did indeed sneak in, pretend to be a member and gain access to all sorts of juicy secrets, and he did in fact write it all up for publication. But he and David were so proud of the progress they were making that they bragged about it all over town, and soon enough, the Freemasons found out about it and set out to stop them. At first, it was just harassment from the masons in their community, angry words, threats of violence, that sort of thing. It was posturing, nothing more, except that posturing escalated quickly. On September 8th of 1826, a group of masons tried to destroy David’s print shop. Two days later, the masons set fire to the homes of both men, and then the following day, William Morgan was arrested on false charges. Basically, a local tavern owner, possibly a mason himself, claimed that William had borrowed a shirt and never brought it back. Once that charge was dropped, William was arrested again, this time for failing to pay a tab in the same tavern. The tab, by the way, was just $2. Yeah, the masons were angry, and they were pulling all the strings they could to unravel William and David’s business plan.

On the night of September 12th, a huge crowd of masons showed up at the jail where William was being kept and demanded to pay his bail and take him into their own custody. The jailor’s wife was on duty at the time, and she really did try to brush them away, but things got pretty heated and she gave in to save her own skin, and honestly I don’t blame her one bit. Those masons dragged William out into the night while another group visited his wife. They told her that they would let her see her husband, but only if she handed over the unpublished manuscript. Afraid for his life and her own, she did what they asked, and then they took it and sent her away. Her husband William was never seen again. That same night, another group of about fifty masons kidnapped David Miller and locked him up in an undisclosed location. Even still, a bunch of his friends managed to track him down and break him out, and with that, a very wild night came to an end. Now, from one point of view, the masons got what they wanted – they put an end to a critic who had threatened to expose their secrets. In fact, they made him disappear completely, but from another perspective, they really made a mess of things. Why? Because a secret society doing criminal stuff to stay secret didn’t exactly endear itself to the general public. Soon enough, news spread, and as a result, an anti-mason movement sprung up. Not locally, either – nationally. How massive was this movement? Well, a new, short-lived political party popped up, called the “Anti-Masonic Party”. Sitting president, John Quincy Adams, even felt that it was necessary to announce that he had never been, nor ever would be, a mason. Their recruitment numbers dwindled, and within a few years, the organisation was reduced to a shadow of its former self, and in the middle of that storm of bad PR, David Miller saw his next best opportunity. He rewrote the book from notes and memory and published it anyway, which, considering the harassment he had already suffered, was pretty brave of him. And the response from the masons? Not a single thing. David Miller’s tell-all exposé went completely unanswered.

[Outro]

*The correct name seems to be Margaret Matilda (Wright) Rowen.

#lore podcast #aaron mahnke

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whentranslatorscry · 1 year ago

Text

Hitagi Honeymoon

022

"I understand every detail, Araragi-senpai. You don't need to say anything else, and you don't need to worry about anything. All your worries rest on my shoulders now. I swear on the name of Tokugawa Ieyasu that I will find Shinobu-chan. So please, Araragi-senpai, continue on your way to Senjougahara with Araragi-senpai."

"But, Kanbaru..."

"In all honesty, I implore you not to abandon your honeymoon here. Of course, if there was an imminent danger to Shinobu-chan's life, there would be no room for choice— but that is not the case. If you still insist on leaving your bride to search for Shinobu-chan, then you may as well shoot me dead."

I didn't have a gun on me.

Nor should an ordinary guy like me even possess such a thing.

"We aren’t some high school kids skipping school to search for her anymore. It's time to grow up."

You’re one to talk.

Still a student yourself.

But she was right. Much has changed since the time when I ran around town trying to find Shinobu as she was on her journey of self-discovery. Now, I find myself lost in an unfamiliar land without even a sense of direction.

Wandering aimlessly could make me the one who's lost.

And the god of lost children was far, far away.

"Besides, if I am granted Araragi-senpai’s permission to move on my own, I have a method that could drastically improve the chances of finding her compared to if you were to search for her yourself. Please understand that I don't say this out of any desire to prioritize Araragi-senpai. I know how important Shinobu is to you, Araragi-senpai. That's why, in this instance, you should leave it all to me."

I couldn’t keep track of whether she meant Hitagi or me, but... it seems she had a way?

I thought it made sense that I should be the one most attuned to finding Shinobu, given our spiritual bond and master-servant relationship. But I couldn't find her on my own back in high school. To my frustration, I had to wait for her to come out of hiding on her own accord.

In the first place, it was rather irregular for Shinobu to break free from my shadow... Maybe it hadn't been wise to let her drink a considerable amount of blood before inspecting the stone.

That might have temporarily allowed her independent action.

Metaphors about parent and child didn’t seem appropriate anymore… But maybe like a Bluetooth smartwatch?

Even so, it was still daytime… Ahh, I see.

The heavy rain helped too. Even in a place named after sunlight such as Nikko¹, there wasn’t a single ray of sunlight right now— that could be considered dangerous, though.

What if the fickle mountain weather changed again...? Neither of us knew the area well. Actually, Shinobu was worse off. At least I had a smartphone with a map app, but unlike Kagenui-san, who treated her Shikigami like a little sister, I hadn't even given Shinobu a kid's cell phone.

Because she wasn’t my daughter.

No, it's no use; I just can't sit still any longer.

"I guarantee it. Also, if you move, it's highly probable that our strategy will fail. The best thing for Shinobu-chan is for you to go with Araragi-senpai to Senjougahara."

"I trust you wholeheartedly. If you say it is necessary for me to wear a Naoetsu High School girl’s uniform to find Shinobu, even at my ripe age of twenty-four, I will gladly do it. However, if you say not to do anything, I'd at least like to know what you're planning."

"I'm gonna do something that you'd stop me from doing if I told you. That's all I can say."

It was tempting to point out which of us it was that hadn’t changed since school, but I suppose we were both alike in our stubbornness. The wolf may lose his teeth but never his nature— including the fact that when I look straight into the eyes of my devoted junior, I can’t help but concede.

And that was certainly a hint.

She'd revealed as much of her strategy as possible, just barely toeing the line.

Even I, who wouldn't hesitate to employ any means necessary to find Shinobu, would be compelled to stop what she had in mind.

"……"

Ah, so that’s it— she would ask that conman for a hand. Not the monkey’s paw, at least.

I had come to know of it only after becoming a cop to apprehend him, but through her mother or her aunt, Kanbaru had a direct connection to Kaiki Deishuu, the infamous conman who wreaked havoc in our hometown. It seems that even during high school, unbeknownst to me, she had met with that man.

He had suddenly vanished from the public eye at some point (which might be a natural consequence for a criminal), so I had assumed her ties with him had been severed as well. Even the free-spirited Gaen-san seemed to have decided against approaching the Kanbaru family— but it was quite surprising that she still kept in contact with him.

Right, he might be very skilled at tracking down a runaway girl. In this particular field, his expertise, annoyingly, may well surpass that of Gaen-san.

Even though I am well aware that the world doesn't always run on justice and righteousness, and even if I tried to put aside personal feelings, as a police officer, it irks me to rely on a criminal's help in a tough situation. But, as Kanbaru said, the chances of finding her were the highest this way.

In fact, there was no one else to lend a hand. Not even a foot.

Even if I disregard our history, as an agent of law enforcement, my presence would undoubtedly put that conman on high alert. And as for assurances, the notorious criminal would never deceive Kanbaru—no matter how reckless an illicit investigation may be, her safety was guaranteed.

Certainly, a decision had to be made.

A painful one.

"Got it. I'll leave everything to you. I grant you carte blanche. But I'll bear all responsibility. Even if things don't go well, you don't need to worry. So, without feeling any pressure, please do your best."

"Leave it to me! Now hurry up and go, Araragi-senpai. There's a minivan waiting for you in the parking lot. From here on out, it's just the two of you. Just a return to the way it should be, the real honeymoon."

It was really paradoxical to think that not pursuing the runaway Shinobu would be best for her. As baffling as it may be, when urged like that, I knew that my mission was clear— to make my way to Oku-Nikko as soon as possible.

Without waiting for me to leave fully, Kanbaru took out her smartphone and began pushing a number on the touch panel that she seemed to remember by heart. Had I gone back on my word and arrasted that conman who played a big part in my motivation to become a police officer, it would not have been impossible. But such betrayal was out of the question.

Actually, I was glad I didn't.

Kanbaru probably thought I'd moved far away when she began the call, but just like how Shinobu regained the power to temporarily break away from her shadow seal, my five senses, too, were enhanced— sharper than they had any right to be. Just as I was tiptoeing through the dark, I could barely make out the familiar voice of my junior from over a dozen meters away.

"My name is Kanbaru Suruga. My special skill is the double jump."

Are you still saying that?

Maybe she had matured since she refrained from saying anything about Araragi-senpai—but she was no criminal, and I had no intention to eavesdrop. On the contrary, I wanted to quicken my pace so as not to overhear, but I couldn’t go faster than the speed of sound— in between the rain's cacophony, I could just make out Kanbaru's next line.

"Sorry to bother you while you're so busy, Sengoku-chan, but I need a bit of your help— it's not about a doujinshi, no. Not as a manga artist, but as a specialist…"

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日光nikko=sunlight.

#ikusamonogatari #monogatari series #translation #araragi koyomi

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