#i think i could make it a whole thing about Haunting as a physical presence within the narrative and expand it beyond those 2 books if i was

[wormmpile]

Sometimes I see someone say something about a piece of media as if it is revelatory mind blowing hot off the press news, and not the most basic obvious point of the work or the most basic obvious allusion, and it makes me roll my eyes a little because I'm like yeah yeah the time knife we've all seen it, and then I have to like physically step in and shake myself and be like actually Susan we have Not all seen the time knife, and anyway someone else is enjoying the wonders of media analysis as a hobby for maybe like. The first time in their life if they're young enough. Don't be a bozo just because you think you're smart. Nerd. Fuckass. If you were a high school english teacher you'd be pissing yourself in joy rn because someone connected the dots. That's so cool that they did that. And I go about my day because I'm normal

[ripdragonbeans]

You Win Epilogue // modern!Aemond x Reader

Summary: You and Aemond have always had a solid relationship built in trust and love. All that is challenged when Aemond has to take a class led by Professor Alys Rivers. Once she's gone, though, how do the two of you heal?

TW: p in v, oral (m and f receiving), manipulation, indefinitely

Part 1 • Part 2

It has been two months since you and Aemond have reconciled, for lack of a better term. Things were not great but they weren’t terrible either. Alys still haunted both of you. For you, those images she planted in your head as well as ones that you made up yourself. For Aemond, everything about her haunted him. He desperately wanted Alys out of his head, out of his life, but she lingered like a scent that wouldn’t go away. Every time you touched Aemond you couldn’t help but wonder if Alys touched him the way you did.

Sex was off the table. Aemond had tried, but you had denied him. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him like that, all vulnerable, because he had been vulnerable with Alys. It disgusted you, how he let her touch him. Not only was she his professor, but there was at least a fifteen year difference. And of course, the face that he betrayed your promise of being faithful.

When Cregan and Jason came out with their own encounters with Professor Alys Rivers, everything became clear. She preyed on other students just like she had with Aemond. A manipulator was what she was.

On one hand, knowing Aemond was not the only one made you feel better, but on the other it made you see red with anger. How dare she use students for her own entertainment like that? The fact that she was only fired was a mercy to her. In your opinion, her whole career should be upended.

“How are you feeling, Pri-” Aemond stopped himself before he called you the once cherished name.

“I’m feeling okay. Just lost in my thoughts, I guess.”

“Can I sit down?” He gestured to the empty seat on the couch.

You smiled at him. “Of course.”

Silently, Aemond took his seat and the two of you sat there in the nice quiet. This was how most of your time was spent now. No touching, no kissing, just being in each other’s presence was enough for now.

You wished things could go back to normal but you know that is impossible. There will always be the memories and knowledge of what happened in the past; something that cannot be undone.

“I miss us,” you whispered.

Aemond gently reached for your hand and when you didn’t pull away he let out a silent sigh of relief. “I miss us, too. If I could do anything to take it all back, I would.”

“I know you would. It’s just all fucked up, huh?”

“Yeah.”

You rubbed your thumb against his knuckles and held on tight. While you couldn’t have everything right off the bat, at least you could still have this.

Three months have passed and slowly but surely things were getting better between the two of you. Physical contact no longer felt tainted and you could hold his hand in public without being afraid.

Alys has been less of a menace in your mind, which you have been grateful for. You moved back in with Aemond but haven't slept in the same bed as him. That's still too much, too intimate for you.

“Do you think we're getting better?” You asked Aemond one day. You were sitting at a cafe table.

“I like to think we are,” he replied. “I'll do whatever it takes.”

“What if it's not enough? What if we can never be happy together again?”

You began to worry. You couldn't imagine a life without Aemond, can't imagine sharing your life with anyone else.

“We are going to make it. I promise, I swear on my mother’s life that we will be okay.”

A single tear ran down your cheek.

Aemond was quick to wipe it away. You leaned into his touch. He was so warm, so familiar, so comforting.

“One step at a time,” you reminded yourself.

Six months had passed and there was laughter again. Laughter and smiles and hugs and kisses. Alys was a dissipating thought to both of you. She wasn't around so she couldn't hurt either of you anymore. Until you ran into her.

 Finally, you and Aemond were going on steady dates at least once a week again. Back at your usual park, it felt nice to return to some sense of normalcy.

“Did you really say that to your professor?” You giggled. “Aemond, that's terrible!”

 He shrugged. “He's a professor, he should have decent knowledge of the subject he's teaching.”

You bumped Aemond with your shoulder and continued walking until he grabbed your hand to stop.

 “She's here,” he whispered. “Why the fuck is she here?”

 You gave him a confused look. “What are you talk - oh.”

 Across the other side of a little bridge was Alys. She was on a run, just like last time. Seeing her made you tense up. Not again. This can't be happening again. Aemond’s hands began to get sweaty and you looked at him with a broken look. You two were doing so well.

 “Oh, the lovely couple,” cooed Alys when she crossed the bridge. She put her hands on her hips and leaned backwards to stretch, extenuating her chest. “I've missed you, Aemond. I'm sure you've missed me. Though I will say I'm surprised to see the two of you together.”

“Shut up, Professor Rivers,” Aemond ground out.

Alys walked up to Aemond, completely ignoring you. “Don't ‘Professor Rivers’ me now, babe. We both know where your true loyalty lies.” She went to touch him arm but Aemond yanked back and stepped closer to you.

“You fucking ruined me.”

“No, babe, you did that yourself.” Alys winked at him then turned to you. “Poor thing, choosing to be with the one who broke your heart. You're such a desperate little thing.”

“Get away from us,” you growled.

Alys cocked her head to the side. “Hm. I see the pup has some bite. Okay, I'll leave you two alone. But don't be surprised when he comes running back to me.” With one last wink to Aemond she was back to her jog.

Silence.

“I hate her,” he mumbled.

You looked down at the ground, too scared to see Aemond’s face. Alys’ taunt played in your head. He wouldn't go back to her. No.

“Is it true?” You hesitantly asked. “Would you go back to her?”

Immediately, Aemond turned to face you and grabbed your other hand. “No. I will never go back to her,” he swore. “Not only did she ruin us and you but she ruined me as well. I refuse to go back to her. You are all I want, all I need.”

Taking a shaky breath, you squeezed his hands. “I believe you, but it's sometimes hard to wrap my head around that.”

“I understand that you wouldn't trust me, and that's okay. I'll wait for you.”

Nine months had gone by and Alys has not shown up again, thankfully. Kisses, hugs, laughter. It was all back. Your trust has grown and your bond has become strong again.

Moving into the same room as Aemond was daunting but you knew it was time to be together again.

“Aemond,” you breathed against his neck. “I need you please.”

You were rocking yourself against him. He was hard underneath and feeling it was glorious. How you had missed this.

Aemond wrapped his arm around your waist. He kissed you back with passion and gentleness. “You will have me, I promise.”

With one smooth movement he locked your ankles around his waist so he could move you to the bedroom. With a flop you fell into the bed, arms open wide for Aemond to lay on top of you.

“Take it all off of me. Please,” you whined.

Without saying anything, he was quick to help you undress and then undress himself. You ran a hand down his chest, loving the feel of him under your hand. Lower you went, grabbing the thickness of his cock.

Aemond groaned as you bent down to give his head a small lick. He moaned as you took him all in your mouth. It felt great to make him feel this good again. You bobbed your head up and down, getting into a steady rhythm. Whatever you couldn't fit in your mouth you use your hand. Droll was dripping from your mouth but you didn't care. When Aemond started shaking, you released him with an obscene pop.

“My turn,” he growled.

Aemond pushed you back on the bed and spread your legs open. He kissed the inside of your thighs before slowly making his way to your core. You clenched around nothing as he began to kiss and pick and suck your clit. He had you arching your back into his touch. He had you moaning his name as he brought you to your first climax. At one point he removed his mouth and replaced it with his fingers, pumping in and out of you. He licked your clit while hitting that special spot inside you over and over again.

“Please, Aemond, I need you inside me,” you mumbled.

He was quick to stop and position himself in front of your entrance. Before he went any farther he asked if you were sure.

“Yes, I'm ready for you,” you told him. “All of you.”

In one swift motion, Aemond sheathed himself inside you. It felt so right like this. You and Aemond were made for each other. There is no other person for either of you.

Together you found a good rhythm, your hips rising up to meet his thrusts. He hit that special spot inside you each time and it had you clenching hard around him.

“Fuck, I can tell you're close,” he rasped. He bent down to capture your lips in a searing kiss. “Will you come for me?”

You nodded your head weakly.

“Good girl.”

Aemond picked up the pace, rutting hard into you. You soon became limp with pleasure, losing the energy to do anything except lay there as Aemond pounded his cock inside you. It was the best thing you have felt in months.

“I'm going to come!” you cried.

“Come for me. Holy fuck -”

Aemond’s thrusts became erratic as you fucked you through your orgasm. All you could see were stars. You vaguely remember him finishing inside you but you were so wrapped up in your own pleasure it was only secondary to you.

He collapsed on top of you, careful not to completely squash you underneath him. Kissing you cheek gently, he rolled over to be next to you. Before he could pull away, you cradled his face and caught him in a passionate kiss. When you broke apart you looked in his eye and saw love.

“I love you, Aemond. And I don't want to let go. Ever,” you almost began crying.

“I love you too, and I promise I won't leave you again,” He pressed another kiss to your forehead. “My Princess,” he murmured.

And for the first time in nine months, your heart filled with love.

[deanbane]

Fic req: Wilson seeing House interact with Alvie and getting irrationally jealous

It was refreshing, at first, when Wilson learned that House has other friends who are not him for once.

He was genuinely happy and excited for his best friend when he learned that House had not only made friends with someone in Mayfield, but this new friend also seemed to be happy when he was in the taller man's presence.

But then, when he sees this Alvie person giving House the biggest and tightest hug and the other man just accepts the hug with an amused smile, an unfamiliar feeling starts to appear in Wilson's chest.

Hugs and anything physical contact are a bit of a taboo for House and Wilson; though they have been friends for almost 20 years. The only time they have ever made physical contact was when they were drunk and were singing some Billy Joel's song into the quiet night. They never really talked about the hand-holding they've done the whole night, but things are just better kept silent than talked about.

Alec seemed like a nice guy, a bit excited and jumpy, but House likes him enough to keep him around and that just says so much more than what Wilson could ever think of.

It's so weird to see a smile on House's lips that is not filled with menace or taunt. It's so weird to see his bright blue eyes shining with amusement that wasn't caused by someone's - or his worker's - stupidity and it just makes Wilson feel weirdly irritated to watch from the sidelines as this Alvin guy rambled about something completely not important and stupid in House's standard, but instead of snapping at the rambling man, House would just nod his head as an indication that he's listening and would occasionally give his two cents as if whatever Alf had said was important in the first place.

House wouldn't even take his job or people's words seriously, but for some reason, this Aloysius guy's word is the only thing he would take with absolute seriousness.

"Dr Wilson?" a voice called to him, breaking him out from the trance he had put himself in. Wilson looked away from the sight of House and his newest best friend and focused back to the nurse in front of him.

He blinked at her blankly. "I'm sorry, you said something?" he asked, voice emotionless as he heard House's laughter coming from the other end of the hall. The hold he had on the file in his hand tightened.

The nurse, Alana, gave him a confused look before trailing her eyes down to the file in his hold. "Yes, I need that file back before you ruin it," she answered, unamused.

Wilson immediately eased his hold on the file and embarrassment started to color his features. He gave her a sheepish smile before handing over the file. "Sorry about that," he apologized, a little ashamed. "I had too much caffeine and all that."

Then, from the same hall, the Alex guy starts to rhyme his words and insists that House join him. And Wilson doesn't need to glance to see the gentle smile that must already be on House's lips.

House never smiled like that to him before.

Nurse Alana seemed to see something in his features before turning to the hall and seeing House and Andy joking around and having a conversation with easy smiles and laughter. She hummed with interest before folding her arm against her chest with the file close to her. "No, I understand what you mean Doctor Wilson." she agreed with a smile that seemed a bit too feral.

"Especially when you've been demoted to the second best friend now."

"No, I'm not." he snapped immediately. He gave the two at the end of the hall a glance before looking away and huffing with annoyance. "I have a job to do, instead of watching some slacker making noise pollution in the hallways," he muttered under his breath, sounding a bit petulant.

Without a word of goodbye, Wilson just turned his back and started to leave, feeling like the happy laughter of House and the annoying scratching voice of Allen haunting his every step. Nurse Alana watched him make his leave to his office with a shadow of a smile on her lips. She turned to see House and his new friend making their way toward the Doctor's office, still chattering amongst themselves as if they were in their own world.

The gossip mill for the PPTH is going to be busy with this new information.

(I wrote it in like 30 minutes(?) so apologies if it's not what you had in mind or if you don't like it in general and thanks for the req!)

[evolutionsvoid]

I think it is safe to say that swamps, to most people, are one of the "spookiest" ecosystems out there. You very rarely hear any happy tales set in one, and any legends attached to them tend to be dark and grim. It's a place that outsiders never want to visit, and if you tried inviting them to a swamp, they would instantly assume the worst. Don't you know what lives in those things?! Ghosts, eerie lights, shapeless mud creatures, foul witches, alluring voices spoken from slimy throats, the clawing rotting arms of the drowned! The stories and monstrosities are endless! Which I find kind of funny for a few reasons. One is that swamps are like any other biome, but gets a bad reputation because it is slightly soggier and the vegetation doesn't look as pretty. The other reason I find this all amusing is because swamps do hold dangers and beasts, yet the scary stories don't bother with them! You have real living breathing creatures that could star in many a cautionary tale, but instead we shove them aside to make up our own monsters! It's almost insulting! The wompogo work hard to be stealthy haunting predators of the cypress swamps, only to be ignored in favor of imaginary spirits and seductive leech women! If you want some real scary encounters in the swamps, then talk to folk who live in them. They will tell you of places in the muck and weeds where few dare travel. Is it because of strange disappearances? Odd lights and whispering voices? No, it is because of the hulking mud-covered beasts who are capable of biting a canoe in half. 

Is this dangerous brute I speak of some kind of swamp dragon, or magic-born monstrosity weaved from mud, reeds and corpses? No, it's a mammal, but one that is big and very irritable. The creature I am talking about is the hippalus, a relative of the hippopotamus who lives exclusively in swamps and marshes. They like it wet and muddy, where they are surrounding by soggy vegetation and soft earth. Though they share their love of water with their hippo cousins, one can clearly see that there are some physical differences between the two. One that really stands out is a long flattened tail, often announcing its presence with a loud slap against the water and muck. Then there is the massive hump on their back, which is pure muscle meant to help power its large head. The hippalus has the same impressive maw as other hippos, but its teeth jut out in different ways. Its lower incisors emerge straight out of the jaw, while a curved set of tusks are brandished like deadly blades. There is a pair of hardened growths upon their snout, which some like to call "horns" (even though they are very much not). Their head also has a bowed part on the upper jaw, almost like a horse saddle. Take all this, and then consider their sheer size! A height of over seven feet at the hump, and a length of eighteen to twenty! There is no denying who the powerhouse of the swamp is!

The hippalus are absolute behemoths, and their power is openly flaunted. While other creatures of the swamp may swim or slither through the water and muck, the hippalus plows through anything in its path. When it comes to identifying their tracks, you aren't looking for footprints, but rather deep ruts carving straight through the whole ecosystem. Their sheer size and weight is part of the reason, because you can't exactly walk on top of mud when you weigh over four thousand pounds. So they sink in deep and simply tear their way through the swampy gunk in front of them. Their strangely shaped head and powerful muscles is what comes into play here! Their whole skull is like an organic shovel and plow, designed for cutting through the mud and flinging it away with a whip of their neck. Their lower teeth help dig through and move earth, while their scooped skull is able to collect a whole load of mud and reeds and send it all flying! The muscular flat tail behind them also aids in propelling them forward, undulating as their powerful legs push them forwards. It should be mentioned that while it looks like hippalus swim through the swamps, they can't actually swim. They don't float, they sink. What you see is instead them walking or "galloping" underwater, only sticking their snouts out to breathe from time to time. What helps with the illusion of them floating or swimming is the fact that they are so big, that they tend to stick out of the water without any real effort. They just stand there in the swampy gunk, and it looks like they are floating with ease. 

All of these powerful adaptations, however, are not just for traveling! As any local would know, hippalus are famed for their construction work (and a lot of destruction work as well). This species is a solitary one, not living in herds or "bloats" like their cousins. A single hippalus will claim a large chunk of territory and make sure no one ever forgets it. Their powerful jaws and scooping heads tear up mud and vegetation, dropping dead trees and ripping sunken stumps from the murky bottom. Tangles of torn weeds and branches are left near the edges of their territory and given a musky coating of urine and feces to let people know who lives here. In the heart of their realm is their home, a lair built from mud, vegetation and woody parts, like the world's biggest beaver lodge. This construction is possible with the help of their strong jaws and head to carry materials, while their flattened tail pats it all into place. The lodges of these beasts are half sunken, and less like a roomy mud cave and more like a sopping wet burrow for them to park their massive bodies. Part of the support for these dwellings is their own bodies, wedging themselves inside and holding it all upon their backs. These lairs are important for when they have young, as it is where their babies hide during their vulnerable stages. If their mother has to leave them behind to forage or defend her territory, they will remain hidden in this den. When they venture outside to learn the ropes, she will be close by to make sure no predators get any funny ideas. Young hippalus can indeed be on the menu for the likes of wompogo or swamp basilisks, but a full grown adult is avoided by all. I don't think you need me to explain why. Lets just say that a healthy adult hippalus is a creature that does what it wants wherever it wants, and woe be to any who try to say different. 

As for diet, hippalus are herbivores, dining upon the various water-logged plants found in the swamp. Like many plant eaters, they won't say no to a free meal if they find a random carcass. While others may nibble upon bones or pick at scraps, a hippalus will take the body in a single bite, crushing it to a bloody, ruined pulp. When it comes to plants, their horned nose is good for digging up ones buried in the muck, and their teeth scrap away at bark and hardened exteriors. When they aren't eating or building, they are resting, as such a huge body uses a lot of energy to work. Best to spend some hours lazing about and grazing upon the weeds.

I mentioned before that locals steer clear of areas where hippalus are active, and hopefully now you see why! It should be said that this species has a temper and are quite territorial. One can be seen sleeping in the muck without a worry in the world, but a split second later they are barreling towards you with jaws agape. Another thing to be said is that they are faster than they look! Yes, they are hulking and huge while stuck in deep mud, but when they want to move THEY MOVE. You would think a mudslide is headed your way, with their massive weight charging through the muck and sending gunk flying everywhere. With this speed and their sheer power, hippalus tend to be avoided at all costs. Locals don't even try hunting them, because it is way too dangerous. What weapons they carry when entering hippalus territory is meant to slow the beasts down, not kill them. Their thick muscles make it difficult to do any real damage, thus resulting in most attacks being annoying rather than dangerous to them. In areas where civilization and hippalus territory overlap, you will find specimens with various weapons poking out of their hide. These are reminders of run ins they had with people, and trophies from failed hunts. "But wait, Chlora" you may ask. "I thought you said people don't hunt them?" That is correct, I said locals don't hunt them, as it is simply not worth it. So if the natives of the region don't do it, then there can only be one other answer of who! You all know it, so say it with me: Rich Idiots With Dumb Hobbies! 

Yes indeed, the wealthy nobility love showing off by killing large dangerous beasts and sticking them in their parlors. With their sheer size and power, any person with too much money and a poor definition of confidence gets the idea that they would make a fetching trophy. They take a whole hunting party out to try and down one of these behemoths, so that their head may be hung above the fireplace. Needless to say, plenty of people get killed trying to do this, and sadly the rich idiot isn't always the one. Turns out when you are the first to flee at the sight of danger and you use your guides like meat shields, you tend to survive. Then they go home and craft fanciful stories about their bravery and perilous escape, while the poor folk they hired for chump change to carry their bags are left dead in the mud. I swear, can't these people find better hobbies? Why do you have to kill things for showmanship and bragging points? Bird watching lets you see the wildlife without any harm, and it is just as rewarding! And if you have to just kill something for a trophy, why not bug collecting? There are plenty of those and it isn't nearly as dangerous! But then again, I am sure dumb nobles would find a way to make that hobby absolutely destructive. Only choose to pin endangered species or something. I don't think there is a winning option here. Like so much of their ill gotten gains, they thrive on misery! Aaaaaand this part is getting cut! I already know it, so don't bother writing it, Eucella!

Chlora Myron

Dryad Natural Historian    

---------------------

"Hippalus"

[cookinguptales]

Okay so now that I've had some time to digest and think about Late Night with the Devil, some thoughts.

Sorry in advance, this got really, REALLY long as I rambled about all-male secret societies, who and what was possessing whom throughout this movie, literal and metaphorical hauntings, how fame and fortune tempt us all to give up our humanity, and uh. Family youtubers.

I really enjoyed the film, but I do have to wonder, to start with, if other people will get all the allusions...? I didn't think about it until later when I was reading confused posts by other viewers, but I guess the film does kind of predicate on a lot of somewhat arcane knowledge. Like you can understand what's going on without it, but I do think you get a lot more enjoyment out of it if you have a good working understanding of, like, the Satanic Panic of the 70s, the parapsychology/esper craze, James Randi's whole thing, Anton LaVey, Waco, late night hosts like Johnny Carson, and of course the Bohemian Grove.

The Bohemian Grove is kind of... like, obviously a lot of the people making up conspiracy theories about that recently are alt-right assholes (see: Alex Jones), but it is very much a real thing. It's kind of a modern Masonic situation, imo, where you get these big groups of rich, influential men together and they do silly, juvenile vaguely pagan frat boy shit. It's edgelord stuff. But because they are secretive and they are powerful, people come up with all of these conspiracy theories about them.

(I mean lbr that's kind of the history of the occult in general, isn't it? lmao. People ask me if I was afraid when I was studying secret societies and occultism and it's like -- no, these were by and large just rich assholes fighting over headcanons about rituals that they made up based off of deeply faulty scholarship. But I digress.)

The fact of the matter, though, is even if the actual rituals and stuff are kind of silly, the main focus is really rich, powerful men meeting up with other rich, powerful men and networking like crazy. It does keep the rich rich, the powerful powerful, and political resources focused on men. Like the Masons, women aren't allowed in the Bohemian Grove -- and women in politics have bitterly criticized the way that they're being excluded from this kind of networking.

(God, it's so fratty. It's so fucking fratty.)

So in that respect, it is kind of something to be feared.

And... I do think you see that aspect of it reflected in Late Night with the Devil. The consolidation of power, the networking with shitty people, and the way that women are "sacrificed."

[massive spoilers for the entire film to follow!]

I do think I want to see this movie again to firm up some of my ideas, because I suspect that there are a lot of details that I missed the first time I watched this. (And I really should have watched the open captioned version of this; I couldn't understand a lot of what the demon was saying, rip.) But here are some initial thoughts.

The heart of this, obviously, is the demonic presence at the Grove and the way that men go there to sell their soul for power. In a very literal sense, that's what's happening in this film and it's what happened to Jack Delroy. He made a deal with a demon for fame, and that demon ended up taking everything from him to achieve that.

But... metaphorically speaking, it seems clear that Jack Delroy was very willing to make human sacrifices in his day-to-day life. He may have literally (and I think accidentally) sacrificed his wife's life to a demon at the Grove, but he very consciously and willingly sacrificed her for fame when she was alive, too. I mean... imagine having a spouse who is actively dying of cancer and making her make an appearance on your show two weeks before she passes. For ratings. Imagine how much it must have physically taxed her. Imagine how difficult it must have been for them both emotionally. It even could have hastened her death. But he was still willing to do all that for views. He sacrificed his wife, his home life, and his overall privacy for views.

(Family youtubers, anyone? 🙃)

He's also willing to sacrifice his girlfriend, his crew, his audience, and a little girl for ratings. Gus, his voice of reason. He was willing to humiliate him onstage and wouldn't let him go home when he was scared. His audience, whose trauma he was entirely willing to capitalize on through Christou's act. His gf, who I'd argue was probably using Lilly as well, was totally thrown to the wolves when he realized it'd make good television.

Like -- yes, there were supernatural forces at play. Supernatural forces claimed these lives. But Jack sure as shit wasn't being very careful with them, and these supernatural sacrifices always, always mirrored his mundane ones.

(I mean... he performed a human sacrifice of a little girl on national television while in a hallucination about using the sacrificial dagger on his dying wife. It wasn't subtle. lmao)

Moreover, the producers of the show were also very willing to put people in harm's way and capitalize on tragedy for ratings. So... there's a really unsubtle message here about fame and capitalism and the way it tempts you to sacrifice your humanity to get ahead.

(MAYBE LIKE UNDERMINING YOUR ARTISTIC INTEGRITY BY USING AI INSTEAD OF HIRING ARTISTS, IDK)

I'd in fact argue that pretty much everyone who got on that stage that night sacrificed their humanity a bit for fame, with the possible exception of Gus. Gus was the voice of reason, but I mean... he was still there. Maybe a message about how once you get in, you can't get out. :(

But yeah, Jack's obvious, but also Christou, who was willing to use people's trauma for fame. June, who was willing to use a little girl's incredible trauma to advertise for her new book. Carmichael, who got off on humiliating people just to make himself seem smart.

Like... they all started with a kernel of something good (wanting to help the grieving, wanting to help traumatized children, wanting to stop charlatans) but in the end, show biz turned all those urges into the most amoral, selfish, and cruel versions of themselves.

And all of those people crumbled when they were confronted with something real.

(Side note, our theater was in hysterics when Carmichael tried to offer the demon the check. lmao)

Truthfully, it felt like all of them had made their own individual deals with the devil years ago. Halloween 1977 was just the devil finally coming to take his due.

That's the main message of the movie, I think, but there are still some smaller details I want to talk about.

The Grove itself was an obvious allusion to the Bohemian Grove, which is a secret society of powerful men who meet amongst the redwoods in Northern California. Their mascot has always been an owl, which is why you repeatedly see the owl motif throughout the movie. (Happy Owl-ween, the owl mask, etc.)

Abrasax makes sense as a demon to choose (the strong historical associations with magic and demonology, the reoccurrences in many world religions (and occult groups), the role in Gnosticism, etc.) but there seem to be vibes of Stolas, an owl deity who communicates arcane knowledge to humans in exchange for their souls, as well. I noticed a lot of little allusions to Abrasax throughout the film even before Lilly started manifesting, like the movie being shown after the show being about Abrasax.

Lilly... She was rescued from a cult that seems to be a hybrid of Anton LaVey's Church of Satan and the Branch Davidians who died during a siege by the US government in Waco, TX. (Like the cultists in the movie, their compound caught fire when they were being raided. IRL, it's unclear whether the fire was started as a suicide cult situation or if it was started by the actions of the government as they tried to flush people out.) In this cult, girls were sacrificed at age 13, and all who witnessed that sacrifice would fall under the control of Abrasax.

So... she was rescued at age 10. Three years have passed. So she is now 13, the age at which these girls were sacrificed. She was due, in other words. Who and what was possessing her... that's the question, I guess. Demons, historically speaking, were known to speak foreign languages, speak in the voice of other humans, have psychic knowledge their hosts shouldn't know, etc. So she did exhibit symptoms like that.

I think... there are a couple of options here. There's Abrasax specifically, there's June's theory that she was possessed by a minor demon, and there's Minnie. Or a combination of the three.

It's pretty clear that Minnie's presence is felt throughout the whole taping. You can see her reflection various times throughout the movie, she manifested through Christou, and obviously you see her in the tape playback.

(And when I say my theater YELLED. lmao)

The question is, though... Is it really Minnie? And if it is, what does she want? Has she been haunting Jack all along? Is she there because, as it's the first Halloween after her death, it's her last chance to deal with her unfinished business? Did the demon allow her to manifest? Or was the whole thing an illusion created by the demon all along?

(I'd like to note here that, historically speaking, there was a theory that ghosts aren't actually real. They're actually demons masquerading as the spirits of departed loved ones, and they want you to summon them and listen to them so they can tempt you away from God. You can read this in the writings of a lot of the ancient Christian theologians. Or you could have talked to my grandmother, who also told me this when I was a kid! :') But she's dead now so I guess you'd have to do a summoning and find out for yourself.)

All that said... I come down between two current theories. I'd have to watch it again to firm up my ideas.

The first theory is that she's been trapped on earth for the past year, but because it's Halloween, she can haunt them. They mention at the beginning of the film that Halloween is a recent spirit's last chance to take care of unfinished business. So this could have been the case with Minnie. That said... what exactly was her unfinished business? Was she trying to protect Jack and the others? Or hurt them? Was she angry, or was she just, as Christou said, sad? Was her "an unmarried man wearing a wedding ring" referring to the way that Jack was grieving her and still wearing his ring, or the way that he wasn't much of a husband to her when she was alive?

The second theory is that, when she was sacrificed to Abrasax, she became a part of that legion. She was, like Lilly and the other little girls, essentially raised to be sacrificed, and once she was, she joined everyone else who is under the control of the deity. It's still hard to sense whether she was trying to help or hurt throughout the broadcast, but it explains her presence (she came with Lilly, not Jack) and how she was used during Jack's hallucinations to ultimately get him to perform the sacrifice on Lilly, thus bringing all audience members (both in the studio and at home) under Abrasax's control.

Either way, Minnie, in this film, is literal ghost haunting the stage -- but also a metaphorical one. The ghost of all of Jack's past misdeeds and the humanity he's sacrificed to get ahead. She's guilt and she's shame and she's desperate grief, and I guess it's no wonder that the negativity surrounding her was enough to kill Christou when he touched it.

I do think it's fascinating that all of the women in this movie are, in a very real and physical sense, sacrificed for the aspirations of men. (The little girls are sacrificed, Minnie died of a mysterious cancer, June dies because Jack pushed for her to stay, etc.) But metaphorically speaking that seems to be the case as well. They're constantly expected to put their own comfort and safety aside for the men in their lives, and their own aspirations are consumed by the men's.

Like I said, it feels very telling that women aren't allowed at the Grove. Women are constantly being denied power in this movie (or are only allowed power when it's in service to a male costar/deity) and it's largely because they just don't have the connections that the men do. The deals were made while they weren't in the room, essentially.

I'm not sure if that was a conscious choice being made, but it does seem to dovetail nicely with the strong, strong sexism and male privilege present in real-life secret societies of powerful men that disallow women. Like June only getting to shill for her book because Jack let her, women are only allowed at the real-life Bohemian Grove in very limited areas -- and only as a male member's guest.

Um... back to Lilly, though. What the hell is possessing her? She speaks as Minnie a few times, but that could be because Minnie is a part of their legion or just because she's trying to freak out Jack. Demons are known to lie using the voices of loved ones. Minnie's presence could have been influencing her, but I definitely don't think that's all that was in there.

The question, really, seems to arise from what June said about Lilly changing like a week ago and how she started talking about Jack nonstop. At least one presence in Lilly seems to be the same deity that Jack spoke to in the Grove when he was making his deal with the devil (so to speak) because it mentioned that encounter. But is that the only one in there? Is it the same deity that's always been in there? Or did it come to her only a week ago as a way to get to Jack and complete their contract? ("It is done.")

Lilly refers to her demon as Mr. Wriggles (which feels like an Exorcist allusion) and it seems like she has a pretty good lid on it. And when that demon is brought out of her by June, it seems confused and frightened. But Lilly is pretty clearly possessed the entire rest of the broadcast, so really the two options are that she was faking the entire time just to fuck with them (entirely possible) or there were two different deities, perhaps the original (lesser) one put in her in the cult and Abrasax(?) newly arrived to claim Jack and his audience.

It's fascinating watching her, because you can see her slip in and out of a possessed state several times when people aren't paying attention to her (jerking, spacing out, etc.) but it's hard to tell whether that's different presences coming in and out of control, her "talking" to what's inside her, etc. Again, this is a thing I think would benefit from multiple viewings. I'm really not sure if the Grove creature is new to her body or if it's been there all along biding its time, and it's only changing its behavior now because it wanted to be on tv.

While her recently changed behavior seems to lean towards the former, I am sort of stuck on the detail that Jack said early on, that he read June's book and couldn't stop thinking about it. That could just be normal fascination (and he did end up having an affair with her) but it could also be demonic intervention. That would indicate that the demon was manipulating him into putting Lilly on TV long before a week ago.

What is not really up for debate is that the presence inside Lilly now is one that has connections to Jack through the Grove and promised him fame. Lilly (before she was visibly possessed) alludes to this promise by telling Jack that he'll be very famous after tonight. And once the ritual starts, she is seen taking electrical energy from the set and cameras. She is literally getting her power from the audience viewing the sacrifice. (It's very Ringu.) And after Jack stabs Lilly, the studio audience, audience at home, and presumably real-life audience watching this movie, are all put under Abrasax's control.

("Hail Abrasax" is seen multiple times throughout the film, which might also imply that the documentarians themselves are trying to spread this contagion after watching the video.)

Uh... a few more small things.

Carmichael Haig is obviously James Randi. Like Houdini before him, Randi was also a stage magician who dedicated his life to exposing "supernatural" charlatans. He did indeed offer a huge sum of money to whoever could prove him wrong. Carmichael even looked like James Randi. (Though I'd point out that "Haig" is the name of the man who constructed the owl statue at the real-life Bohemian Grove!) I suppose it makes sense that he'd be such an asshole in a world where demonic possession does actually exist.

The one thing I'd say is... it's hard to say whether this was a case of the filmmakers not thinking through implications or if this really was a nasty joke, but Randi was, IRL, gay. He came out late in life and got married to a man shortly before he died. So the implication that Carmichael, in the movie, wanted to join the Grove largely because he was perverted is... iffy. Carmichael was never stated to be gay in the movie (that I noticed) and it's hard to suss out whether the orgies he was talking about were relating to the all-male membership of the Grove (i.e. a gay orgy) or the women that these powerful men had hanging all over them (i.e. a... less gay orgy) and I do think which they were implying has major implications for what they were saying about a man who was, IRL, gay.

Like... if the implication was that he must've been willing to hurt people in order to have wild sex because he's gay, that's uh! Not great! But if the creators didn't realize that aspect of Randi's life (it was less publicized because, as I mentioned, it happened later in his life) then they might have just been pushing on that trope of powerful men using women.

Really, really hard to say.

Next, Christou. Christou... it's hard to say whether the man was psychic at all. It's clear that he was doing a lot of fake-ass cold reading beforehand (though I do want to go back through it and see if there really was any allusion to a Peter- character involving the skeleton) and was using interviews to find grieving audience members. (Two practices that James Randi talked about a lot IRL.) But he also did have a very real experience when he sensed Minnie and, while overwhelmed, didn't seem particularly shocked by it.

If I had to guess, I think that Christou does have some psychic powers (which is why I want to investigate the Peter thing) but can't control them well and is easily overwhelmed by real phenomena. He plays things up for the cameras (I noticed his accent slipped when he had his real experience, lmao) but I wouldn't be surprised if, like everyone else on stage, there's a kernel of something real in him.

Finally... that fucking skeleton! I want to do an entire watch through just to examine that guy. He was in the flashbacks about the Grove, so I think it's likely that he might've been a member of that. He also is the only one who refuses to take off his mask, which seems to relate to the dialogue at the beginning of the film about wearing a mask to protect yourself from spirits during Halloween. I think he's definitely in on what's going on, to some extent, but it's hard to figure out exactly in what capacity. Was it a Grove member, or maybe a cult member? A follower of Abraxas? Was it actually the personification of Death?

Hard! To! Say!

Like I said, I really do want to rewatch this movie to pay more attention to small details I might've missed in the theater. I'm also looking forward to seeing it with subtitles. It wasn't a perfect movie, but it was intriguing and original enough that I really enjoyed it and want to watch it again to puzzle through it. Really, the one big mark against it was the brief use of AI, which is just -- god, it's infuriating.

It's such a small part, so it would have been so easy to not do. (Apparently it wasn't even IN the first festival showing.) But it kind of pollutes the whole movie, especially when such a large message is not fucking over real people in the quest for success in the media landscape.

Plus, it just kind of looked like shit.

I know it's probably a lost cause, but I would be thrilled if they hired a real artist and redid those images for the Shudder release. It would be so easy to fix, and it would make the movie a lot better. Those commercial breaks were so funny and if they had better interstitials (that didn't make you feel icky just looking at them) then it would boost an already great film.

I just. I don't even know why they did it in the first place. I'm guessing, based on the fact that they weren't in the original screenings, that they were pressed for time to finish things...? But come on, surely you can find some artist who can do something quick for you. It wasn't even a moving image.

So uh... yeah, I guess that's where I'm at. It was an interesting (if slightly hokey) movie pulling together a lot of threads to make something cool and mysterious, I liked a lot of the acting (particularly Jack Delroy's) and set design, I wanna chat with people about it -- but I can't really in good conscience fully recommend it because of the AI thing. It's just such a disgrace to artistic integrity. Here's hoping they hire a real fucking artist.

[the-lonelyshepherd]

whst r your top 3 fav and least fav yellowjackets characters shep

im gonna do LONG answers bc i want to talk about my sillies

for faves…. i love them all so much it’s actually not funny but for my top #1 yellowjackets character of all time it HAS TO go to my girl Lottie

1. Lottie

she’s insane she’s a cult leader she’s a champion soccer player she has big brown eyes she’s been in multiple odd relationships with various blonde girls she’s a prophet and above all she’s just a girl. 

i’m literally just gonna TOUCH on many topics and not go in depth bc i will actually write a full ass essay. if i haven’t already. 

Shes actually one of my fav characters of all time, not even just yellowjackets. deadass she is SO fascinating, both adult and teen version. unloved by rich parents. schizophrenic (or is it really the wilderness speaking to her??? we don’t know!!!) but hides it until it’s too late. her transformation from sarcastic a little odd but generally kind and cheerful soccer player to borderline mute haunted prophet to years later mysterious but successful wellness center (…cult) leader??? INSANE!!!!! 

her whole religion arc with laura lee??? actually one of the DRIVING forces of EVERYTHIBG i could write an ESSAY on this. insane. her weird one sided rivalry with nat??? INSANE!!! (and lwk homoerotic). her obsession with wilderness baby??? this could be its entire own post

also she like… just wants the best for everyone. she’s been put on a pedestal, marked as an enemy, had her words twisted to excuse HUNTING and EATING someone and then told it was her fault. she also couldn’t stop this because she let someone beat her up to let their anger out. she’s so self sacrificial she’s so overly caring and it ends up hurting herself and everyone and all she’s trying to do is understand things. she can’t be a god but she can be a martyr if they kill her quick enough. she’s MY tragic queen no one gets her like i do. i love her so much. also courtney eaton is really fine. irrelevant.

2. Nat

next up is nat. nat is also like. ohmygoodness. 

first of all the most interesting thing about me for nat HAS to be her dynamics with the group. you could put her with anyone and learn so much about both characters. travis? jackie? misty? lottie? shauna? ben? all of them. it’s a combination of nats insanely interesting character and sophie thatcher’s (sorry juliette lewis but it just wasn’t as impressive for me) INSANE screen presence. she shows so much emotion with just facial expressions and fucking steals every scene she’s in. def a huge contributor in making nat the character she is.

also unlike a lot of the other yjs, nat already has a history with this sort of tragedy. we see in her flashbacks with her dad (i think s1.4?)

this stuff sets her up as immediately apart from the group - not only is she a bit of a social outcast, labeled as an alcoholic, a druggie, a whore etc, but she also already came from a dark place and physically spent a lot of time seperate from the other girls. she spends a lot of time w coach Ben and travis, expanding a lot of their characters and making javis death even more horrible for her. the trauma she has surrounding guns and her father also leads to another really interesting thing - above all, no matter how much she pretends she doesn’t, nat does really fucking care. she cares a lot.

i LOVE this kind of character so much, the kind that pretends to be rlly apathetic but is almost more genuine in their kindness than anyone else. nat just genuinely fuckung cares and she’s been through so much and i rghhhhh. her apology to jackie???? hell even her moments with travis. cutting off his dads finger to get the ring when he couldn’t do it himself. i’m losing it. anyways i have to cut this off bc i need to get to my next girl and i WILL write an essay if i keep going. 

3. Shauna

Shauna fucking shipmannnnnnnn (and by an extent jackie because let’s be frl they are kind of one) let’s go crazy girls. Shauna is honestly terrifying. starting strong!!! but it’s kinda true. she has this like weird underlying sense of something violent about her. she’s always wanted more, she’s always kind of lived in jackie’s shadow wether jackie meant to or not. she had this kind of mindset that’s just SO like obsessive??? i kinda sound like a shauna hater rn this is NOT TRUE 🙅‍♀️🙅‍♀️ she is so compelling it’s insane. 

first off sophie nelisse is incredible. actually incredible. like from the BEGINNING she had me FASCINATED with shauna just with her expressions and rghhhh everythibg. the talent is INSANE. 

and shauna herself is just. so tragic. now you can’t really talk about shauna without talking about jackie. and it’s okay bc i love jackie as well she is my favorite girlloser, resident coldgirl, mislabeled, misjudged queen. et cetera.

and having jackie is such a core part of shauna’s character. when she comes to the wilderness she starts to slip apart a little. rifts form, promises broken and secrets start to slip out. but she still CARES about jackie. she tries so hard to help her do something useful so the other girls don’t turn on her. 

but in the end she was always going to be the one holding the knife. she was always living in jackie’s shadow (at least in her mind) and she had this weird relationship with her where she both villainized and obsessed over her. standard homoerotic highschool girl bestfriendship. i don’t even know where i’m going with this there’s so much i could say. before i end let me rq touch on

wilderness baby and callie. this is also one of the most compelling things to do with shauna. after jackie’s death, shauna is technically on her own. after being so long on begat she perceived as jackie’s shadow, she has, in her mind, autonomy. and things really start to go downhill. first, she’s carrying the baby of her dead best friends boyfriend. which is a situation. but jackie isn’t ever really gone - she’s in shauna she’s in the baby she’s in the meat shed she’s a ghost and eventually she’s a full on fucking meal. so even though she’s dead, she NEVER leaves shauna and shauna is haunted by her forever. normal best friend stuff. but anyways shauna carries wilderness baby to term and loves him so so much and then it turns out he was stillborn. let me emphasize she loved this baby SO FUCKING MUCH. then later as an adult we see her with callie. „i don’t even like my daughter”. the switch up is crazy???? i think i’m running out of room to type fuck but anyways shauna shipman you will always be famous i love you i would write essays on you

okay least faves is actually harder.  beacuse i love them all. i’m gonna say that annoying mustache groomer cop. and like idk who else tbh. nats dad? jackie’s mom??? oooghhh jackie’s mom and dad scene is a whole mother tangent

anyways i hoped you enjoyed me exhibiting symptoms!! thank you for your question idk if you can tell but i love talking about yellowjackets

[hanasnx]

i've loved the whole starlet reader little bits and bobs recently. she's my babygirl, i have posters of her up on my walls and her playboy cover under my bed <33

i know the au! is hayden-based, but my brain circled around anakin for this one. 

in my mind the prequels take place in what would be our 1940s or 1950s as the ogs reflected closer the political context of the 60s. 

which lends itself for a golden-age starlet reader, and i wanted to share a thought! ITS SO LONG IM SO SORRY  ;;

-🥩

with a war raging on, people need some sort of distraction as to not go insane with the politics and bloodshed of it all - an escapism the entertainment industry is more than happy to provide. anything you could possibly want to escape your own life for a little while, they have. 

i like to imagine each clone legion has has their own taste when it comes down to their poison of choice - the 302th are very into the thrillers of an acclaimed silver fox actor. the 127th favour comedies regardless of whoever stars in them.

the 501st claimed starlet!reader as their girl. that's quite literally how she's known in the clones barracks, "the 501st's girl".

the legion is very familiar with their girl and her filmography. even though not all of her repertoire is romance, that's the one genre they indulge in the most.  

in the two hours they get to spend with her, they get to live the romance of a lifetime they may never get to experience otherwise. she's their forbidden lover, their wife, their temptress.

their girl, really.

she's special to them, even if in a parasocial way. it's a tragic thought to think how many of them passed with a picture of her on the windshield of their ship. 

maybe that's why anakin agreed to watch a holo-film of hers with the 401st. it's important to them, so it's important to him. a little bonding time. 

he just didn't expect to become so quickly enraptured with you, too - not in the same way his clone comrades are, their girl is the vessel for their fantasies. to anakin? you're his fantasy. 

i doubt he cares much for your movies, i think he prefers your interviews and commercials.  he has a few favorite frames he comes back to often. 

he lingers on them more than he should - a parasocial relationship *hardly* counts as an attachment anyways. 

considering how most holo-projections are 3D, i'm sure he's already familiar with your form, from head to toes. 

but no projection can compare to seeing the real thing for the first time - you were actually real? he couldn't wrap his head around that idea. 

i mean, you looked real when you arrived in a pretty little white-blue outfit, accompanied by palpatine, (who ofc organized the whole thing). you were all smiles and waves, clearly trying to make contact with as many eyes as you could before you went onstage.  

you sounded real when you yelped and giggled when you almost tripped on the slippery stairs when you were headed center to deliver a small speech to your boys (as you so lovingly called them). 

but what really almost sold him on the fact that you were real, was feeling you. physically you were meters away, but with his connection to the force? you were almost breathing down his neck with how close he felt your force presence. the very essence of what makes you, you. 

you were singing your heart out up there -  oblivious to how you intoxicated almost all of anakin's senses by simply existing in the same space as him. 

he just really needed to confirm you tasted real, to be completly sold on your existence as something beyond a hallucination of his haunted mind. 

WHAT THE FUCK

look i dont like long inbox msgs bcos its rly difficult for me to focus on them and all that etc etc whatever whatever but this.. this i loved reading. i want more of it. i want to hear more about the 501st's girl and how ppl joke about it "oh hows your lil girlfriend??" as if shes the collective gf of this division sldfj. i wonder how anakin gets closer, do you feel drawn to him too? if so, is it cos hes pretty or is it a magical thing? are the 501st jealous or playfully jealous over anakins success in bagging you??

my cheeks slowly heated up the entire time i read it i rly enjoyed it omg

[technicolorfamiliar]

Technicolor Familiar Watches Too Many Conrad Veidt Movies Part 1 of ?

Apropos of nothing, I find myself wading around waist deep in Conrad Veidt's filmography, at least the titles I can easily find online.

I've been writing down my mostly brief impressions after each movie, mainly for my own entertainment since I know exactly zero other people who would care lol. I actually created a Mastodon account especially for this purpose, since my primary socials aren't really for this sort of thing. But the character limit on Mastodon is seriously cramping my style, so I'm going to be annoying about this on Tumblr, my self-imposed blog expectations be damned.

I'm not doing plot summaries, but there are spoilers. I'm not watching these movies in any particular order other than what I'm in the mood for on any given day. I'm half trying to keep the thirst levels to a minimum, but no promises; all bets were off after watching A Woman's Face. And tbh, this whole thing has turned into an Emotional Support / Coping Mechanism / Escapism Tactic because hoo boy is my brain bad these days. But be forewarned, I'm not a writer, I'm not a film critic. I just like movies and turns out I like Conrad Veidt a lot too. I'd probably have more and better things to say about a lot of these upon a second or third watch.

So as of late November, I'm 15 films deep with a lot more to go. I'm thinking about splitting this up into multiple posts, maybe like 5ish films/post. Originally I was going to see how many of these movies can I watch before the end of 2023. But I'm just going to keep going until I run out of available titles or I get sick of Connie's face (unlikely).

The Man Who Laughs, 1928 Dir. Paul Leni ⭐4.5/5 Watched mid-Oct, Archive.org Nothing could have prepared me for this. Of course I was aware of TMWL, but more vaguely than I guess I realized. It's really ahead of its time. The production quality is astounding, it's an absolutely beautiful film. The whole cast is pretty great, too. The Duchess? Total smoke show. Homo the Dog? Queer icon. And Connie really swings for the fences emotionally and physically as Gwynplaine. Bear in mind, this is literally only the third Conrad Veidt movie I've ever seen (other than the basic, intro level Cabinet of Dr Caligari and Casablanca), so I was really floored by what he's able to do in this role with the use of really only half his face. There are several wonderfully haunting and heartbreaking visuals and moments throughout the nearly 2 hour runtime that will stay with me long after watching. Half a star got knocked off because the score was a little bombastic and there were one too many clowns for me personally. But those are small complaints for what may otherwise be a pretty perfect film.

Unheimliche Geschichten (Eerie Tales), 1919 Dir. Richard Oswald ⭐3/5 Watched mid-Oct, Archive.org A romp. The version I watched had no soundtrack at all, making for a totally silent viewing experience. The vignette structure and old school effects are fun. I enjoyed seeing Anita Berber in action although maybe I was expecting more because of all the hype surrounding her/her image. But Connie, Anita, and Reinhold Schünzel seem like they had a good time working on this project. "The Black Cat" and "The Suicide Club" were my favorite sections (and I actually watched this when I was in the middle of Netflix's The Fall of the House of Usher, so yay for extra Poe content in the spookiest month). As for Connie Content, what can I say, he's stunning.

The Cabinet of Doctor Caligari, 1920 Dir. Robert Wiene ⭐3.5/5 Watched Oct 17, Archive.org I went hard with the silent era when I started this journey. Caligari was my intro to Conrad Veidt almost 15 years ago, and as a lapsed goth art student, I remember being bewitched by his strange and off-putting presence on screen. My rating for this one is kind of low compared to how undoubtedly iconic and important of a film it is. It could have been my mood but upon rewatching, but the story fell a little flat for me. I did like the updated score in the version I watched, and I would love to see this one on the big screen maybe with a live orchestra some day.

Orlacs Hände (The Hands of Orlac), 1924 Dir. Robert Wiene ⭐4/5 Watched Oct 17, Archive.org Loved. It's so horny and bizarre (the scene with the maid crawling on the floor? same, girl, same). And visually the most pre-David Lynch Lynchian-looking movie I've ever seen. The shots that linger on highly stylized, cavernous, empty rooms before a character enters? So David Lynch. I'm also a big fan of the psychological body horror and crime thriller genre mashup. It's got twists, it's got turns. Conrad Veidt's your man if you ever needed a Hand Actor. Like the handsiest Hand Actor who ever had a pair of hands. Someone who could really work those mitts.

A Woman's Face, 1941 Dir. George Cukor ⭐4.5/5 Watched Oct 18, Vudu & TCM Jumping way forward in Connie's career. This movie did things to me. This was, I think, the point of no return. It's extremely underrated, I'm legitimately surprised I'd not heard of it before diving down this rabbit hole. That said, it is strange and pretty spicy for a Hays Code era picture. It's so good, I actually watched it twice (it aired on TCM as a part of their creepy cinema series). Visually beautiful and narratively interesting, if maybe a little long despite the rushed ending. Shout out to Joan Crawford for giving what's probably the best performance of hers, at least that I've seen (Mildred Pierce who?). And then there's nasty, nasty Conrad Veidt. He very nearly steals the movie from Joan, I couldn’t take my eyes off him. He's beautiful, he's TALL, he's scary. Genuinely shocked he doesn't have second billing. But what else can I say about his Torsten Barring that hasn't already been said more eloquently by others? It's such a great character, and I believe he said it was one of his favorites during his entire 100+ film career. A Woman's Face is the only title on this list so far where immediately after watching I wanted to buy the dvd. Ugh, we deserved several more decades of Connie in roles like this.

I'll probably post the next few one day soon, where I finally get into some titles from the 1930s.

[meirimerens]

hi im such a big fan of ur farkhad content. i noticed a lot of farkhad Haunting Themes in ur art and was wondering if thats your own interpretation/headcanon of whats happening? and maybe more about that? :0 . orrr i just missed something in game and im being silly goofy stupid. also thoughts on ponies

HELLO DARLING aaah farkhad he's like a best friend to me etc... i have so many thoughts and ideas like brrrr yknow i'm gonna try to be like coherent because it's 2:30AM and also (starving white woman voice) i'm sooo hungry. i'm sure i've talked about what i'm boutta respond in more Coherent forms in my #farkhad lore or #farkhad pathologic tags but basicallu

the twins are haunted. within the game, it's plain as day to me (and others might not agree!) they are haunted. hauntings can be about grief, or about guilt, and peter specifically makes numerous mentions of it weighing on his mind. he hints (in p1) at how andrey killing farkhad (for his sake) makes him suffer, and has created a rift between them. i've also talked about the twins and like assimilation-or-destruction but Basically because they couldn't Assimilate him, aka Making Him See Their Ways, what was left was destruction. this destruction was supposed to bring them closer together, but instead it tore them apart.

farkhad haunts them: he lives in the rift between the two of them, whole body, lying there.

farkhad is endlessly replicated: he is replicated in the cathedral, which he had built, which you, the player, cross everytime you go through that part of town: farkhad's presence, ever-reminded. he is replicated in the grave the twins built for him: farkhad's presence, ever-reminded. ever-reminding them. they could have dumped his ass in the ground and pretend he had vanished, but they erected a monument to him. he is anchored in their body of work. he is endlessly replicated through their work. they have given him the name Farkhad, they have givenhim a tomb: they have given him a presence. and the presence of a dead man is called a haunting.

The endless replication of a dead thing is called a haunting. The unshakeable presence of a dead man is a haunting.

from that, my headcanon is that the twins Physically see him, everywhere, often. in the cathedral. in dark corners. i think when they still liked each other one of them might have painted him, and that portrait haunts him/them. i think andrey stole one of his rings, and one day a hand reaches out from the darkness and yanks on his wrist until he feels like his finger is getting snatched off, but in the end the ring is still here, but he has finger marks around the wrist. you know?

i'm just taking the haunting present in-game, in-text, this endless replication, this neverending presence even beyond his death, shaping the twins, and having shaped the town, and i make it... physical :3

[thelampisaflashlight]

As an orange sun rises through the trees, and the chill of October pulls back its teeth, abating its bite for this most beloved of occasions, I pull from the grave... a small haunting of ghoul headcanons.

Today, it involves their summonings. 

Decided to change things up a little. Below the cut.

Aether: Quintessence ghouls are tricky creatures to pull from the depths, ever vigilant of threats, natural protectors of kith and kin... to tear one away from their pack, from their people, is nigh on impossible...

Unless they reach out to you instead.

For all his time in the pit, Aether never really forged any strong bonds with his fellow ghouls, and, for a creature born to bring others together, that really was quite lonely, so when he felt a tug from the surface, he happily allowed himself to be pulled along.

Nowadays, Aether is quite content with his little pack, and you’d never know the loneliness that drove him to the surface by the way he laughs and smiles at his friends, but you can see remnants of it in the way he frets and worries when they disappear from his sight.

Dewdrop: When you have a ritual down to a science, you may think yourself incapable of making mistakes... but the rites of old are written down for a reason. 

For what excuse could you give for pulling a frightened water ghoul when you thought you had held fire in your hand?

Sister Imperator ceased efforts on the ghost project for nearly two months following Dew’s summoning in order to understand what had gone wrong... and to weed out those responsible. Normally, she would have also sent the poor creature back to the pit as well, but something about the strange “spark” in his eyes endeared him to her, and so Dew remained.

No one is quite certain how Sister Imperator encouraged the flames within a water ghoul to burn so brightly, but, nowadays you’d be hard pressed to see a trace of Dew’s original element beyond the steam that rolls off his skin like smoke.

Multi/Swiss: Sometimes, you call out to the devil, and other times, the devil calls out to you. 

Before the spell was even complete, the clergy could feel his presence like a hand on their shoulders, a warm embrace, a familiar friend... It was transcendent.

The feeling of so many elements tangling, fighting, and then, at last, binding together is a potent one.

That said, Swiss does not recall much of his summoning, likening it to the fuzzy feeling of having just woken up, only to easily fall back asleep.

Rain: Water ghouls are... for lack of a better word... slippery. 

No, like, actually.

The clergy have often wondered if they should start summoning them in a drier environment than the sacred ponds near the abbey, but they do have to admit it’s fun to watch the newly formed ghoul splash around and blow bubbles at them.

Rain would very much like them to forget the bubble part. It’s embarrassing.

And the slippery part.

It’s not his fault he was coated in a healthy layer of algae, okay? Keeps his skin smooth.

Mountain: Earth ghouls are tricky to create. 

For one thing, you need a skilled woodcarver to form the sigils properly on the trunk of a suitable tree, find someone to handle some of the most toxic plants known to man, and then you have to actually have to summon the ghoul and hope it doesn’t see fit to pummel the lot of you into the ground.

Yeah, earth ghouls can be a little... “cranky”... when first awoken. 

Thankfully, Mountain was rather calm about the whole situation... perhaps it was because they used the wrong mushrooms for his ritual...

Cumulus: In order to properly form an air ghoul, one must first understand... fifth grade science.

Basically, you need to build a functional terrarium and wait. 

Air ghouls require an offering of “life” in order to form physical bodies, and before anyone jumps to the human sacrifice route, that’s death’s domain, and you won’t get an air ghoul from that.

Cumulus still has her little terrarium in her den, and quite enjoys watching the plants inside continue to thrive, untouched.

Cirrus: One would expect a similar process to Cumulus, and you’d be partially correct in assuming that. Cirrus also has a terrarium, but it holds a completely different ecosystem.

Where Cumulus’ environment is more classical forest, Cirrus’ terrarium holds a more aquatic set-up. 

The plants in her terrarium grow their roots into water and have never touched the ground.

Sunshine: Perhaps the oddest manifestation of a ghoul in recent times.

One might liken her creation to that of a “surprise” baby, in that whoever brought her into existence knew the risks of doing the deed, just not the outcome.

Copia would like to go on record stating that he knew exactly what he was doing when he summoned Sunshine, and he totally wasn’t just mixing potions together for the hell of it.

Sunshine would like to go on record stating he, Copia, most certainly did not.

She does have to admit she’s having fun though.

[carcinogeneticisst]

Greywaren is so much to contain in my mind. It was written in such an interesting way from odd points of view that came together to be really good. I will definitely relisten to the audiobook to take it all in, but these are the initial things that stuck out to me:

A lot of Ronan’s storyline was him being a silent observer and contemplating the people closest to him; whitnessing how they act when he’s not around. That was never how I saw this book going. Ronan was stuck but he was learning some vital things, and just the inventiveness in Maggie’s writing amazes me.

Farooq Lane’s whole storyline, I always love when Maggie pushes buttoned-up characters till they’re “burning”. It used to be a description of Gansey, I love the callback. Also there’s a definite parallel story between her & Nathan and The Grayman & his brother. They kill eachother in similar ways in a final shoot out.

Farooq-Lane and Hennessey’s volatile (homoerotic) relationship to each other. Hennessey painting Farooq Lane filled with all the fire and lust she felt for her. The kiss and the fact that she travels with Hennessey still 4 years later.

Declan shooting up Boudicca’s fairy market was so satisfying. Like this guy snapped and it was so good.

The evening Ronan whitnessed between Jordan and Declan. It was so soft. The moment that it was clear they weren’t going out, and Declan takes is place on Jordan’s couch instead. It melted my heart.

Declan yanking away Matthew’s sweet metal and not waking Matthew up for days shook me up. I know Declan was trying to be practical but damn. But that led to Matthew absolutely decking Declan, so hard Declan and his coffee mug falls to the floor. I was waiting for Matthew’s breaking point too, it was so good.

Mór’s a sociopath? And she was the one that wanted to escalate things? Those flashbacks where quite satisfying, there has been so much mystery shrouding what happened to Neil and Mór for so long.

Not in a million years did I think that Ronan is one of the beings from the other side. A being that may have begged dreamers to become human many many times. A being that could have easily been brought into this world as something else like Lindenmir or Cabeswater. Also there are entities that feel differently about our plain, like Greywaren adored it and the Lace loaths it. Fascinating concept. It makes me wonder about Ronan’s funeral dream, was that them? Do beings like Greywaren have a world or do they just float in the blackness?

Adam’s monologue acknowledging how he’s been lying at college and how he doesn’t love it as much as he thought was heartbreaking but fascinating. By making Adam unaware of Ronan’s presence, Maggie found the perfect way for these two emotionally constipated guys to communicate. Also, when they finally met in the subconscious void was so perfect. Like, their physical forms weren’t even there and Maggie made it so romantic.

Matthew with Bryde was just hilarious. Also without his mystique Bryde’s just a sad man. That was a weird turn of events, I thought he’d be the main evil. And then Bryde becomes a visionary? Led there by the voice Matthew heard when he walked into Ronan’s security system at the Barns? That was a big lore drop out of nowhere Maggie!

I got spoiled that Gansey would be back and at every turn I was expecting him to turn up to help somehow. He was fantastic in the epilogue but I’d imagined more.

As and audiobook listener, Ronan’s panic attack was absolutely haunting. Hearing the same phrase over and over almost transported you to Ronan’s state of mind.

[deathofnarcissus]

you know i think what i find the most truly haunting about the second vincent's whole story arc is the fact that he is so separated from his obviously more beloved counterpart and it shows so clearly even if he was never that aware of it.

nearly everyone around him had met clyde and treated him accordingly: assuming things that he wasn't a part of, becoming puzzled as to why he was acting differently, etc. i feel like there was a distinct sense of alienation that showed each time an interaction like this happened, and his confusion and often frustration felt palpable as people kept alluding to this person who wasn't him, and it only grew increasingly uncomfortable to be judged based on people's perceptions of not-him. this is especially so considering how much he clearly believed in presenting himself so intricately and how that slowly started to unravel as it was rendered useless by anyone who claims to have met him before.

and don't get me started on the underlying notion that of his usefulness; there was always a sense that he was going to die, even if he never had a full enough view of the situation to put the pieces together. as soon as he stepped onto the page, it was instantly clear that he wasn't sticking around for very long, both due to his self-concerned tendencies and attitude and his place in the story. the reader would have already been aware of the extremely specific problem clyde was facing, and it would only be a matter of time until this perfect vessel could be put to use. his entrance following the whole deal that clyde needed a body was a slap in the face; who could be better to inhabit than a perfect copy of your previous self? he was introduced as a character you were meant to recognize as tragic, which made his journey all the more effective knowing his fate and dreading what would eventually, inevitably come to pass. he was introduced specifically to die, and you have to just hold your breath for every second waiting for it to happen.

and all of this makes me look back upon how it ended, which makes me utterly sick to my stomach every time i think about it. he was so ignorant of everything that was going on around him, making him such a vulnerable target among pre-established characters who had a sense of what goes on in the circus. he fell into every trap he could, going in blind and arrogant and untouched by dangers he was completely separated from in the real world. maybe he was lucky, managing to find company with nene/aphro and mell, who could at least steer him on the right path, but he was truly blind to whatever could have happened until it was too late to be taken back.

and what really gets me is the fact that he ended up so truly alone. by the time he'd stumbled out of the maze and into the jaws of the beast once more, he was both physically and socially completely alienated from everything around him. the people searching for him didn't even particularly like him, and one of them specifically knew the connotations of his presence in reference to clyde- who knows what would've happened if they were present during the last bit! he'd lost his primary means of communication and a distinct part of his identity, something that must have been so dehumanizing on his end along with the fact that he couldn't even express his grief in a properly cathartic way. the fact that he was physically by himself in the theater hall just hammers in how alone he was. his breakdown was suffocating, having to manage how overwhelming it all was and be effectively unrecognized through it all, so insignificant to the passive observer because of his lack of sound and to anyone aware of his situation because they already had the sense that he was doomed. nothing worked in his favor, and nothing could have because of the sheer separation from humanity he was faced with as soon as he stepped foot through the gates. and his grief was so palpable because of that, only exponentially worse because he didn't know what was going on. he might've realized a little too late what was so dangerous about the circus, but he never got to know how condemned he was in the first place.

and in the end, i think clyde knew that. i think he understood- if only through catching a glimpse of the end result, sharing his sorrow and passion and hopelessness -how isolated he must have felt, even if he was always meant to kill him in the end.

[necrosin]

a corpse of a place / a ghost of a girl —— there is no certainty nor reason nor certain reason, she is simply here and present and cast in golden light that feels too warm against her skin, like sunlight filtering through paper-thin white curtains, like sunlight peaking through dusty window panes, as if she were fading —— away ——

the wall is high and not so high, after all, easily reachable yet so very far. the woods are safe, now, no nobodies to linger and lurk in its shadows. they are simply dark and cool and seemingly endless but a lighthearted schoolboy and his companions could wander through them / even the ghost-girl could traverse them well enough. there is no reason why she remains within ( or rather, atop ) the towering walls of twilight town except that —— except that ——

difficult to conceptualize. difficult to put to thought. difficult to perceive wholly and fully. this, or you?

she : who is nothing and shall become nothing and will always be ——

circular thoughts. tangential thoughts. there is that rotting roof and those creaking walls and she can imagine it with ease, how the third step always whined, how the doors could do nothing but shriek. that room / her sham of a room / pure white and covered and papered in shattered fragments that she had pieced together, bit by bit. that room, that place, where the pitiable non-hero ( but he had been, but he is, he's just —— ) sat before her and who she told, voice soft and carrying and trying to be gentle, that he was never supposed to exist.

unkind words / she had tried / but had she, truly? always, always she had been guiding him towards oblivion, towards a lack of existence separate from the lightened hero trapped in the dark / she had not hesitated for all that, to her, @heartinhands seemed like a falling star. ephemeral, entrancing, never meant to last, but deep inside there had been that quiet hope : that he would carry on, still.

that he would : appear, real and whole and individual, as if out of nowhere at all. as if she had pulled him from memories and made him real once more, as if by mere thought she could bring him forth, as if she had been hoping and lonely and WHEN HAD SHE NOT BEEN LONLEY, AFTER ALL?

it takes a moment to register. and then another. warmth around her shoulders, a steadiness near her / against her / a touch that makes her shoulders tighten for all of a moment / a presence that registers as NON-THREATENING with such immediacy that for a moment she finds herself confused with the instinct. as if pulled out of her memories, ❝ —— roxas, ❞ surprise lilts her tone. she feels somehow caught, something twisting in her chest, strange and ill-shapen and odd. she hadn't expected / hadn't known to foresee / but then : roxas loves twilight town, doesn't he?

she wonders what he's thinking about, to touch her so casually, to look over the towering walls of twilight town and over and over and over to that haunted place. haunted, still, because while the wraith no longer wandered those halls, there were still ghosts that lingered in every corner. every room. every last place they had touched.

for a moment, she doesn't know what to say. can't offer heartening words, eternally incapable of such a paradoxical thing. she wonders if roxas recalls what she does with such clarity. supposes that he does, surely / but he's too kind to her to hold it against her, isn't he? he's bright in her vision / everyone is / a falling star in the dead of night. ❝ i was thinking... ❞ she looks back to that barely visible roof and wonders over physicality and existence.

roxas existed, and it had been mournfully wondrous to see, and she —— had not, had NOT, had not in any sense of the word and he had been —— a falling star —— and NOW there is his arm and there is him and there is her / a ghost / and a house full of ghosts, weeping and screaming in sorrow.

a ghost of a place / a corpse of a girl.

❝ that... even though you weren't meant to exist, ❞ can a ghost learn kindness? is it still unkind, to repeat those words? WHY WOULD YOU SAY SOMETHING LIKE THAT... EVEN IF IT WAS TRUE? a star, a world, a meteor falling and burning. roxas, roxas, who looks at her with a face that is a mirror / isn't a mirror / who looks at her and is that something pensive, on his face?

everything would be easier, would everyone just hate her.

❝ ... i'm happy you exist, ❞ can something such as happiness exist within her? ( yes / no / certainly ... not : but hadn't it been happiness when he had come for her, when the hero had come for her? ) his arm is warm against her shoulders / and it's a wonder he can touch her / can reach her / that there's anything to touch at all, and he's so —— perhaps a falling star cannot encompass it all. perhaps it is more apt to say that he is simply a boy who wants to exist. WHO DOES EXIST.

and isn't that more profound than a falling star?

❝ i'm... happy to have met you. ❞

[ wrap ]  –  for the sender’s muse to casually wrap their arms around the receiver’s neck and lean on their shoulder from behind.

[fabien-euskadi]

29, 30, 92, 93 for the asks ✨ (whenever you have time/ feel like answering them).

29.What is the best thing that has happened to you this week?

Well, you asks are certainly among the good things that happened on a very quiet week.

But the best thing that happened is simply the fact that my cat, Lenina, is back home once again. To contextualize: on December 14th, a stormy night (devastating floods happened in the region where I live), Lenina escaped from her cat carrier as I was approaching my car, on a dark road in the middle of the countryside - and, to make things even worse, Lenina is black. I have searched for her for two weeks, but the chances of ever finding her again were… well, let’s say that a miracle would be required for me to have Lenina again. Two weeks later, when all hope was already lost, luck decided to bless me when a friend of mine discovered where Lenina was hiding (in the woodshed of a nearby cottage); immediately, we managed to rescue her - and the gods know how frightened and skinny she was when we found her.

Now, Lenina is back home. And she is devastatingly happy. And I still cannot believe she is with me again. The rescue itself was last week, but the fact that she is here is, certainly, the best thing of the beginning of 2023.

30.What is something that makes you sad when you think about it?

Basically, there are two things that make me sad. One of them is the fact that my PhD essays and readings are not going as fast as I wanted to. Considering the deadlines, they are not going nowhere near as fast as I needed to. And my inspiration to write is… lately, is quite miserable. I know that, somehow, my brain will manage a way of producing a very good text with extremely well-structured ideas and concepts, but… so far, that didn’t happen (yet). However, as we write, an idea popped into my mind, and changing the whole subject of my essay can be both a wise and a brave move.

The other thing that leaves me sad is the fact that some people deeply disappointed me in 2022. I put too many hopes and far too much faith in people who were absolutely not worth it. Perhaps, that may explain why those people are no longer in my life - because they weren’t simply meant to be in it, they are not good enough, they are not worthy of my friendship (and, believe me, I am not being smug - not even a little bit).

92.Describe what you think of the ocean.

During part of the year, I live near the ocean, so, I have a very close relationship with it.

The ocean is like a silent companion. It’s the entity that helps me organize my ideas when I need it the most - a walk on the seaside has already inspired me to write some of my best poems, and some of the most inspired bits of prose. Also, the ocean was there with me when my mind needed to realize some important things - I would say the tangible presence of the Atlantic by my side helps me clear my mind, sometimes even forcing me to understand what my heart refused to see/listen. Does this make any sense to you?

93.Do you believe in aliens or ghosts?

Ghosts live inside our hearts, but, most of all, inside our dreams/nightmares - and some of these ghosts belong to people who are not even physically dead (albeit other ghosts are long-gone, for sure). The ghost of my grandpa (perhaps, the person I loved the most in my whole life) haunted my dreams for ten years after his passing - my subconscious was still struggling desperately to accept that someone so important to me could no longer be physically in my life.

Regarding aliens, I prefer not to have a definitive opinion, since I have no evidence of the existence - or non-existence - of alien complex forms of life. Actually, no one has a single concrete proof of the existence of any form of life (even unicellular organisms) outside Earth, let alone intelligent/complex forms of life. That means I am, probably, much closer to the Rare Earth Hypothesis than I am to, for example, Carl Sagan’s ideas. Yes, there is the Fermi Paradox, but, so far, the data and evidence publicly known indicate that no intelligent life forms were found so far… although that makes all the sense in the universe: considering the destructive potential and capabilities of the Human Race (did anyone mention Putin?), paying a visit to the Earth would be the least intelligent thing eventual alien civilizations could possibly do.

However, the existence of aliens is like the existence of God: it's all a matter of faith. And faith doesn't work very well with facts, even if both words start with the same letter.

Just in time: despite what I have just said, I am writing an epic saga that takes place in a distant Earth-like planet in the Constellation of Virgo; but that is strictly fantasy, even if the whole concept is science and history based.

Thank you very much - and I could not refuse to reply to the asks from a girl who took photos with no other than Sakis Tolis (I am a Rotting Christ fan - "Triarchy of the Lost Lovers" and "Aealo" are absolutey brilliant)

[tallbluelady]

6. What was their "flirting stage" like?

Oh no. I went VERY in depth on this, woops.

Their "flirting" stage is like, Post-Stormblood all the way through base Shadowbringers. Anything before then is like, timidly approaching and then jumping back before the other responds. It's not until the first Heavensturn after Ala Mhigo is liberated that they finally feel comfortable with the concept of each other to even TRY anything. And even then, they're almost playing chicken with each other, trying to get the other to make the first move because they're too afraid to approach them themselves. Urianger had purchased a gift for Rowan - a gold and glass rowan branch from the Goldsmith's guild - and he was going to give it to her with a letter to open that conversation. Alas, G'raha called again and nabbed him and Y'shtola to the First.

AND THEN EVERYTHING GETS MORE COMPLICATED ON HIS END. G'raha gives this grand scheme to Urianger, trusting him to do whatever it takes to see the plan to fruition. And now Urianger has to lie to Rowan to keep the plan working, save the Star, and to get them all home. He knows that the whole thing is going to be mentally and physically hard on her, so... he figures that he could offer relief by flirting and being romantic. He then fully expects her to dump him once they all return to the Source for his deceit. So with that in mind, he spends three years with the fae and gets some gender stuff figured out, the plan eating at him as he creates White Auracite to mayhap render the whole thing obsolete. It doesn't but it does help in the end.

Rowan, back on the Source, is distraught at the loss of her comrades. She does stumble upon the branch and letter, and the whole thing swirls around her mind for the weeks they try to get her to the First. She is as shaky as a newborn deer at the idea of it. She couldn't quite get herself to open up to Aymeric and that has been haunting her for a while. She's afraid of losing Urianger entirely because he's been such a steady presence in her life and he's handsome and kind and... It's scary.

So when Urianger Careless Whispers his way down the stairs and asks what Rowan thinks of his appearance she's relieved. He hasn't had his feelings change in three years! He seems more confident in himself too, which just adds more to her attraction to him. He's steady and attentive and funny and it helps Rowan relax. She's still shaky as hell at the whole relationship, because she can feel some hesitation on his side for whatever reason. But she's going to let the flirtation happen for a while because it's genuinely nice to hear that you're pretty etc.

Then Mt. Gulg happens and... Urianger is more guilt than man at that point. He has his grovel point and he is ready to never have any romantic interaction with Rowan again. But then she forgives him! Because A) G'raha asked him to lie and B) she loves him! (Not that she's ready to say so!) So they have this weird give and take of they both know they like each other, but Urianger made it weird. He actually works with Moren and Grenolt to create weapons to help vent some of the Light within her. And it's VERY MUCH appreciated.

I haven't quite ironed out every detail when they're in Amaurot, but Rowan REALLY wants to kiss him right after they defeat Hades. The problem arises when G'raha has to be all sad boy about everything and then they have to make it to the surface and then go to the Crystarium and celebrate and then sleep. Only Rowan can't sleep, and Urianger is Urianger and usually doesn't sleep anyways. They talk and cry over tea and FINALLY KISS OMG. And also give each other an "I love you" and an "I love thee". Then they cuddle for the night and that is the end of their "flirting stage".

So uh... thanks for the excuse to ramble about this XD.

[odara]

Little Orphaned Girl

I’ve been feeling extremely lonely. And it’s to the point where I’m afraid of myself. I’m disappointed in my actions. I’ve done things out of desperation just to feel connected to something, anything. I’m embarrassed, I’m sad. And the worst of it all I feel like I can’t stop the self sabotage.

While 2020 wasn’t the year all of my troubles began, it was the hole in the ship that shook up the trajectory of my life. The passing of my father, my ongoing strained relationship with my mother and me running from confronting my grief have had me on an emotional rollercoaster.

The reoccurring theme that’s been haunting me is the feeling of abandonment. I think this was awakened after the loss of my dad. He was truly my best friend. And grief has really brought to the forefront how much I truly relied on his presence. Although I’d been both my parents sole caretaker for the past decade, I’d say I needed them just as much as they needed me. My dad specifically is what kept breathing life into me. I had to be here because of him. He’s the person who always encouraged me, always had my back, always held me accountable even if it hurt my feelings. I was his stubborn baby girl.

One of our last conversations when he was coherent between his episodes of dementia, I remember him being fussy telling me he could take care of himself and to leave him alone lol. He told me to live my own life and go find my own way. Those words have echoed in my heart ever since. Because he truly wanted me to be happy. On my own, outside of him. But I realize now that I was never truly prepared for that. I was terrified, actually. Because it meant confronting the very things I’ve been running from my whole life. Which I now believe is finding and loving myself.

Shortly after his passing in 2020 I brought my mother who’d been in and out of assisted care homes back home to live with me. It was something I’d never planned on doing for a number of reasons. Our toxic relationship and because I just could no longer care for her in the physical condition she was in, she needed and deserved professional care. But in the height of the pandemic she’d been hospitalized with Covid and almost didn’t make it herself. So I brought her home completely bed ridden and cared for her by myself for 2 years before finding a stable place for her to go.

It’s been a few months since she’s moved out now, and while not having to care for her 24/7 has been a relief, it’s also shined a light on how alone I really am. And I’ve been really trying to find a sense of purpose. Dedicating a huge fragment of my life to care for ill parents has taken a toll on me in every way. The biggest and most centering thing right now is realizing I don’t have community. I literally have no one. While I have distanced myself from the majority of family because of toxic relationships, I’ve also lost a few close friendships along the way.

I have about 4 consistent friendships with some really amazing people. But none of them live here. While that’s never mattered in the decade we’ve known one another, it just feels even more in my face right now. Of course my ongoing depression doesn’t help. The loneliness feels crippling. I think about my friends lives and they all have community. They all have people in their lives who care for them, and most importantly who they can reach out and touch. I long for that. I long for connections that I can feel beyond distance.

I take accountability in not being very proactive in doing my part to establish and build new relationships. It’s hard. Building community at my age….is work. And with crippling anxiety and depression to ice the cake I’ve been less likely to even leave my house for days at a time. All of which leads to my habits of unhealthy coping and unhealthy attachment issues.

I don’t know why, but since the loss of my dad I’ve had this strong desire to be around masculine energy. I wasn’t dating and had no time for a lot of personal things while I was caretaking. But now my desire and interest in romantic relationships is overwhelmingly high. I want to feel cared for, desired and safe. Which is something I’ve never had before in an intimate relationship.

Right in the midst of my dad passing, I developed a closer relationship with someone I’ve known via social media for over 10 years. In the past 2 years we’d got really close. He doesn’t live here, but the distance never came between my fondness for him. And he was what I desperately needed during that time. There’s a lot of depth to his story which I’ll save for another time. But I later realized he felt so good to me because he was a distraction from my pain. With him, I could focus on just our relationship. And none of the heavy things were on the front of my mind anymore. It was a very toxic and tumultuous relationship but none of that ever outweighed the fact that he just made me feel like I was cared for and thought about. And that someone desired me in a way I’ve never experienced before. It felt like intimacy. And I wanted and needed it badly.

Sadly, as much as I wanted the idea of him to be my reality. It wasn’t. He had a side that was mean, and manipulative and abusive. I don’t think he’s capable of empathy. And as many times as he showed me he was incapable of being someone safe. I continued to engage and want more of him. For the sole reason that he was all I had. And all I felt I deserved. My self esteem is nonexistent. And no matter what was happening in my life or who walked away, he was always there. And now I realize that’s because there was something he desired or needed from the connection too. I knew the day would come where we would eventually part ways but I honestly thought I would’ve been the one to make that decision. And I’m so disappointed in myself for not. But I’m also thankful that he did it for me. Because I don’t know when or if I would have. We were bad for each other. I had a lot of insecurities and needed reassurance. I wasn’t the most emotionally mature and I’m still working on how to communicate my needs. I lacked enforcing boundaries and he was very good at crossing them. My feelings never mattered to him. But his had to be on a pedestal or he’d throw me away. That’s how much I “meant” to him. I gave in and gave him what he wanted most times. But the times I didn’t he made it clear how he’d dispose of me and never look back. I was too scared to lose him, bc without him what else did I have? I was too afraid to be alone. That was dangerous. But the day of reckoning finally came and here I am, alone.

I’ve made desperate attempts of trying to reconnect with him. But he ignored. There was no grand finale to our ending just a deafening silence. No conversation. No goodbye. Just silence. Ghosted. Though we hadn’t spoken in months, he sent me money on my birthday with a short note. “Do something you wouldn’t usually do”. It was odd and confusing, and manipulative as fuck. I thanked him but no response.

There was another connection I had over the summer with someone else. Someone I’d grown to like. It was very surface level and I knew he only wanted to fuck me. He was never intentional about anything outside of that. So I knew. I talked to him a lot about my insecurities and how nervous I was to be with him. He didn’t care. It took 5 years of discourse before I even got the nerve. There was nothing significant or special about him. But I liked him, and I enjoyed talking to him. And for some reason I felt safe. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me in the way I’d been hurt. He felt safe enough to let my guard down and overcome my fear and battle with feeling undesirable. So I said fuck it. And fucked.

It’s funny how intuitive we are but choose to ignore things that have always been obvious. As inconsistent as he always was and his lack of effort had always been…I still chose to believe there was some level of care involved. Ha.Ha. Twice I’ve been a fool I guess. He got distant after he got what he wanted. I initially was ok with that because I kind of got what I wanted too. He served a purpose for me. And that was to let my guard down and get past my insecurities. While how he chose to handle me after didn’t do anything for my insecurities…hell it probably made them worse. I’m still proud of myself for just saying fuck it. He was the vessel I needed to get through that. And I keep trying to remind myself he served his purpose. His job is done.

But of course Miss Anxiety girl couldn’t let it go. I tried to get clarity from him as to what changed. Because after all, things didn’t have to. This was surface level. We were just cool. But being disposed of back to back triggered the fuck out of me. I made attempts. Multiple attempts. While I believe his very vague reasoning and reassurance that it was solely due to whatever he had going on and nothing to do with me…my anxious brain tells me that can’t be true. Whatever the case I’ll never truly know. And I have to be fine with that. But damn, nigga. We can’t even be cordial? It’s just unsettling. Especially when there was no rift.

I’m embarrassed. I’m ashamed. I’m offended. I’m embarrassed of myself because I still wanted to make these connections work. After being disposed of like garbage I still wanted their attention. I was desperate to have something. Even though they made it very clear they want nothing to do with me and whatever their need was had been fulfilled. I still in a way wanted to believe that not to be reality. But it is. And here I am. Facing myself and my aloneness. And trying to let go. Why is it so fucking hard to let go of what’s already let go of me. I’m stronger than this. I know I deserve better. I know these are people who have no significance in my life. Hell, I know neither of them were ever deserving of me in their wildest dreams. But why am I still holding on to these feelings so tightly. I feel so broken.