#if you go to the source there's a lot of texts in this section i just picked one

[quatregats]

This is probably Bush and also Pullings's native dialect (though I have many MANY doubts about what exactly the methodology being used here was)

[cruelsister-moved2]

hey kind of weird question but i saw a post of yours from a couple years ago while searching some random tags and you mentioned having some opinions about anais mitchell (presumably her recorings of the child ballads?) and the whole coffee shop au-ification of balladry (particularly tam lin) and that resonated so hard with me so i just thought i'd ask you to elaborate more on that because i genuinely want to hear what you have to say. also i fucking love angela carter

oh man... I mean first of all I just reject the term 'child ballad' out of hand nowadays because like fjc was some random racist eugenicist middle class american academic borderline-hobbyist who never even heard a folk song in the wild and basically just compiled stuff other people had already written down. so even if I pretend to subscribe to the ownership of the collector, which I don't, we never refer to 'sharp ballads' or 'percy ballads' or even 'burns ballads', despite the fact that burns was actively re/writing his. add to that the fact that like a third of child's collection came from a specific, named woman (Anna Gordon/Mrs Brown of Falkland) and you start to get angry at the anonymisation&dehumanisation of 'the folk', especially when you learn that child's ballads made him rich yet socially humiliated mrs brown. she (along with numerous other women + burns as a kind of anomalous man) was working actively from inside a tradition, but we instead default to the authority of the prejudiced outsider because of romantic beliefs about the naivety of 'the folk'. (if anything, child actively harmed the tradition with his completely arbitrary subjectivity + not collecting any fucking tunes...)

the very notion of folk music as just this organic wellspring that just emerges naturally from a people-group is a victorian/edwardian fantasy concocted by nationalists in order to reclaim said material, both for profit and for nationalism reasons. objectively speaking, someone or several someones composed that material & many of them were most likely women. the idea of claiming that folk music 'belongs' to all of 'us' (and 'us' at least in its original intention meaning white english people or white people of english extraction) because several generations of performers put their own spin on it is like saying the beatles' copyright really belongs to all of us because lennon & mccartney co wrote them. I'm not arguing for copyright law here but like the recognition of folksong ownership is completely broken in popular conception and it's v much a case of the idea that something belongs to 'everyone' is erasing the actual individuals/groups whose cultural property it is. (+ the living folk tradition regularly accepts new songs of known authorship, and operates a paradigm of collective ownership that is really ill served by the modern idea of intellectual property that can only make something a specific someone's or no one's at all)

so in THAT context, the girlbossification and uwuification of balladry by an outsider (who believes themselves to be an insider) is just kind of grotesque. firstly you're working from a canon which was selected and heavily modified by a victorian man to suit his delicate sensibilities, and then projecting like modern western feminist sensibilities on them. I've seen like 'feminist reworkings' of songs which lament women's helplessness, or exist for mothers to warn daughters about sexual assault. this is where the angela carter comparison comes in bc shes like the patron saint against the 'feminism is when women slay' school of folklore retelling and also someone who was both working really hard not to claim ownership of the stories she collected or to claim thematic ownership with her interpretations, but also writing her own 'folklore retellings' that actually comprehend and work with the deep themes at play rather than being like hm it's kind of problematic that the prince couldn't remember what cinderella looked like (fwiw most cinderella-esque stories are explicitly about the resourcefulness of the girl, and the prince - w his attached status+possessions - is literally just there to be her reward lol kind of a win for feminism idk..)

it's the belief that everyone in the past, especially if they were illiterate, was stupid. not to Survivals Theory but I recently saw this song from an irish traveller woman who claimed it was in the bible which everyone found funny but it literally heavily resembles a story from the apocryphal infancy gospel of thomas, which incidentally was extant as old irish poetry c.700 CE. like the anais mitchell girlies always have this approach that they're the first ones to recognise how great this repertoire is, or something. and her approach is very like oh I've discovered this lost hidden tradition etc although ironically she herself is part of a historic tradition of north americans ripping off martin carthy LOL 🤭

sorry this is like a huge thing for me and i kind of ran out of steam to get into it all but i appreciate the question n i hope at least some of that means something to you<3

[m00nchildwrites]

Forever, You and Me: Rafayel x MC/Reader Smut

This is a one shot, smut drabble inspired by @jinwoosbabyboo 's answer post describing how the LADS men would react to you storming of and not responding to theirs calls and texts after a bad fight. Her writing is flipping amazing. ISTF I devour everything she writes. 

I was intending to just repost her post with a little response of how I think Rafayel would cope with such an event, and it just... took off and swept me anyway, and well... apparently it's angsty feels and thirsty hours and I blame @jinwoosbabyboo completely for this because her writing always getting my imagination going! So responding to her with my extra thoughts about Rafayel became a one shot, smutty drabble spilled out.  

So here is her post that inspired the one-shot below, so you can read the Rafayel part that got this whole thing going and also, please go read her sections about Xavier, Zayne, and Sylus because you will be missing out if you don't. Seriously, go now.: https://www.tumblr.com/jinwoosbabyboo/763177878569549824/dont-run-off-like-that?source=share 

18+. MDNI! 

TW: angst, cursing, self-depreciation, depression, mention of death or wanting to die, ya boy gets dark and big��big sad, hurt/comfort, they def kiss and make up, SMUT, what is foreplay? They just want to bone, couple's first time together, detailed sex depicted, fucking, use of the word fuck a lot, dirty talk, usage of "babygirl", possessive Rafayel (in bed), unprotected sex, mating press, squirting, overstimulation, cum, my own Lemurian bond headcanon, Rafayel has a filthy mouth and MC loves it, cum/breeding kink if you squint. 

*clears throat* 

Enjoy. 

~~~~~~ 

Forever, You and Me 

[ @jinwoosbabyboo prompt: 

You told the LADS Men to not piss you off and what did they do? Pissed you off. How I imagine they would react to you storming off in tears and you're not answering their calls or texts.] 

The moment you spun on your heel and fled his home Rafayel was after you. The angry and uncharacteristic yell of frustration you had given out before doing so, after he failed to back off during your disagreement, turned argument, turned first real fight made his stomach drop and curl in the worst way. Your voice played in his head as he ran out his door and down to the street in front of his house after you. 

Stop! Just... please stop a moment. I hate that we are yelling. This isn't us. This isn't you. This isn't me. Just- Give me a second to breathe for fuck's sake, Rafayel, please! 

His words rang in his head too.  

If you don't want to hear the sound of my voice anymore, if you don't want to be with me anymore, then why don't you just leave. You always end up leaving anyway. 

He never expected you to actually do it. But he had watched as your eyes widened in shock and hurt, and then narrowed. Then you were gone. 

He ran, flinging open the metal gate and stepping onto the sidewalk, eyes desperate, searching for your retreating figure. He had to find you. Apologize. He knew he could be intense sometimes, dramatic occasionally, and that he could push your buttons just to see if you'd leave him. Leave him like the you of your past life had done. Like you had always done. 

But he was a fool. 

That you wasn't this you. That you was dead and gone. And you, you were the same but so different. You were everything and he had gone and fucked it up. Again. 

His head whipped around frantic. Spirits of his ancestors, did you sprint!?!  The pit in his gut swelled and grew. He couldn't see you anywhere. He yanked out his phone dialing your number as he started jogging off down the sidewalk. You couldn't have gotten far. Right? 

The call went to voicemail. He stopped staring blankly at it. You didn't answer. Maybe... Maybe you couldn't get it in time, yeah. That was it. He breaks out into a jog again, and again rings your number. He would find you. Maybe you were at the bus stop? He pushed his legs faster as the voicemail picked up again. 

You weren't at the bus stop. It had just left. Spitting out a stream of curses that made a little old lady whack him with her bag, Rafayel dialed a different number. He pressed the phone to his ear, "Thomas, I need a car.... no, I'm not at home. I am headed to Linkon City. On foot. Thomas, please no more questions, just have the car find me! This is urgent!" 

When the car-Thomas- found him, he was halfway to Linkon, sweating, sticky, gross, and stressed. He sent out a stream of texts asking you where you had gone, why you weren't answering, that he was sorry, begging you to come back, to answer, to curse him, anything. But they all went unanswered. 

As he went to all your known haunts and favorite places, from your work to the grocery store near your place to your apartment where he ran into an unimpressed blonde Hunter partner of yours that looked perpetually in need of a nap and who refused to buzz him into the building, Rafayel's mental and emotional state continued to spiral. His emotions went from apologetic to concern to flat out fear for your safety. Which he had made clear to that blonde partner of yours... he very nearly throttled the ass. Why did he not see how urgent this was? His words had struck Rafayel and made his stomach turn sour. 

"If MC was in danger, I'd be the first to know, after all, I'm her partner." 

His world felt off kilter. Would the blonde be the first to know? Surely not. Surely, it would be him, Rafayel. Your boyfriend of the past few months. You were soulmates. You came together lifetime after lifetime. He always found you. Always could hunt you down. Always. 

Except now. Except this time. Where had you gone? 

If you don't want to hear the sound of my voice anymore, if you don't want to be with me anymore, then why don't you just leave. You always end up leaving anyway. 

You always end up leaving anyway. 

He visibly flinched. He was a fucking idiot. He turned his head to stare blindly out the window, avoiding Thomas' gaze in the rear view mirror. His assistant had given up trying to get answers from him. Instead, he watched in with worry all over his face.  

Rafayel was soaked. It had begun to rain. It was quicky becoming night. He had been calling, texting, and searching for you for hours. He had ran himself to the point of near exhaustion, and nearly gotten the cops called on him at her work when he kept asking Hunter's outside if they had seen you. How embarrassing. For you, not him. He couldn't give a damn as long as he found you, but you... you clearly didn’t want him to find you. 

You were gone. He had told you to leave if you didn't want him and you had gone. 

He felt numb as the car stopped at last in front of his gate. The car hesitated, Thomas no doubt watching him in concern as he drug his feet passed his gate. Rafayel didn't care. He had pushed you away. Lost you. And it was all his fault. And for what? 

The argument had been so stupid. He walked in, not bothering to shut the door. Clothes dripping, leaving pools on the floor as he walked through his home. He passed the dining room that still had your wine glasses and the open bottle and desserts out. He grabbed the open bottle as he moved deeper into the house.  

He kicked off his shoes, leaving a trail headed to his living room. The flowers he had bought you sat on a vase on the coffee table. He stared it down as he plopped, wet, onto his couch. How had such a good night turned so sour? Why did he have to push at your buttons sometimes? Was it just to see? Just to see if you'd leave him? 

You always end up leaving anyway. 

His stomach felt sick. He chugged from the open bottle. Why would he do that? You didn't deserve it. Was he that fucked up from his past that he had to take it out on you? Why couldn't he let go of what had happened in your lives before this one? You were not like him. You didn't remember everything. No wonder you left. 

He tsked, and not for the first time, wondered if your "curse" to not remember your past lives was really a curse at all. After all, if he couldn't remember, then he wouldn't treat you as though you were going to leave at any moment. Because you had never given him any indication that you planned to. 

The past few months of your relationship, that you two were "official", had been perfection. Sure, you had little spat and sometimes would snap at each other, but there had been so much love. He swallowed a lump in his throat. Love. 

He had not even gotten the chance to tell you. 

He had been waiting- waiting for the perfect moment. He was going to tell you tonight. It was why he had gone the extra step to make lunch that much more romantic. It was why a meat and cheese board and fresh fruit were waiting in his fridge for later that night. He hadn't planned on either of you leaving until morning, if then. It was the reason for the flowers before him, the flower petals in the no doubt cold tub upstairs, the petals spread across his bed. Tonight was going to be the night. The one where he told you that you were the love of his life, of all of his lives. He was going to explain what that meant to a Lemurian- how binding and forever that was. And should you accept, he had planned to ask you to- 

He winced, eyes squeezing shut as his chest flared in pain. In protest. His hand not holding the bottle, now empty, clutched at his chest. A hiss of pain. The pain passed. Rafeyel dropped the bottle onto the coffee table before his eyes landed on the vase. He knocked the flowers over, sending the vase off the other side of the coffee table, glass shattering and water spilling with flowers and petals across the floor. 

It didn't matter what he was going to ask you. You were gone. His eyes blurred, hot, as tears formed on his lashes. He pulled his knees up to his chest. His shoulders shook.  

You were gone. 

~~~~~ 

Your feet tripped as you hurried down the sidewalk, dodging puddles as you went. You did not mean for time to get away from you. When you ran out of Rafayel's earlier, you had only meant to get some fresh air for a short while as you calmed down. You both had ended up yelling earlier and it had felt so wrong. Wrong because it wasn't like either of you.  

Yes, you had had disagreements. Rafayel hated when you put yourself in unnecessary danger, though he respected you and your skills at work, even you had to admit that he wasn't wrong when he said you took risks. You didn't mean to. It never was your plan, but something went down and you just sprang into action. He had been right, you had partner's in the association for a reason. But it was the way he had said it today, like you were doing it on purpose just to spite him. As though you enjoyed stressing him and making him worry, it had just set you off. You had told him off, and things had spiraled. 

And for what? He wasn't even wrong. It just rankled your feathers today because of something some dumb Jock head at work had said about women Hunter's needing to be paired with a male Hunter since they were the weaker sex. The dude was written up on the spot; the idiot had said it in front of everyone including your very female boss- moron. But still, you hated being looked down on.  

And so, you had taken out that frustration on Rafayel. On your sweet, silly, bratty, but absolutely adoring Rafayel. You had seen how your words had hurt him. When you had said that you didn't need him or any man worrying or looking after you. You had seen the flinch as though you had slapped him as you flung his worry and concern back into his face as though it revolted you. 

You had hurt him. And then realized that you both were yelling, and it was all just too much. You felt like you couldn't breathe. It hadn't felt like you. Like him. So, when you asked for a moment to allow your mind to settle and clear so you could think rationally and he just kept on, you snapped. He offered you an out, and you took it the offer and walked out. 

You walked out knowing his fear of abandonment. You knew and still walked out without looking back. You walked and walked along the shore. Then it started to rain, and you had to find shelter. And to top it off, you hadn't realized your phone was dead until you were stuck miles down the beach, in the rain, hiding out under a pier, and realized you had to now walk all the way back. Why had you gone to the beach instead of your home? 

You sighed, spotting Rafayel's house in the distance at last. Of course. Of course, you knew why. Because the beach reminded you of your Lemurian, your Rafayel. Even when you were mad at him, you longed for him. Sought out his essence for comfort. Gods, you loved him so much. So much and you never said it out loud yet. You had to tell him. 

You picked up the pace and jogging up to his gate. Nearing his door, you saw it open, but thought nothing of it. Rafayel often left it open for you or from distraction as a bolt of inspiration hit him. The house looked dark from the entryway. You called out his name as you toed off your sandy shoes and socks. 

You gasped as you stepped and nearly slipped in a large, cold puddle. A trail of puddles large and smaller led inside. You tucked a damp strand of hair behind your ear, and cautiously made your way inside. 

"Rafayel? Are you home?" "Rafayel?" "Ugh, why is it so dark in here? Stupid dead phone. I need a light." 

You stumbled into the dining room and followed the wall to the kitchen. You flicked a switch and squinted at the sudden change in brightness. His whole studio was empty and dark. The light from the kitchen spilling out into his painting area across the large room and into the living room area. 

Your eyes squinted, focusing. There was a lump on the couch. "Rafayel?" You near him and see the wine bottle on the coffee table nearby and broken glass and flowers scattered around. You step carefully to not get a shard of glass in your foot as you move around the room to him. 

"Rafayel? I'm sorry it's late. I didn't mean to be gone for so long, but I went further than I meant to and then my phone died..." You trailed off as he came fully into view. He sat on his couch, cheeks wet with tears, clutching his chest. 

You understood all at once why he grabbed that spot, and your heart lurches and drops. You kneeled next to him carefully, "Rafayel?" 

When you call out to him, he let out a choked sob of a tortured laugh.  

You lean, moving to place your face into his line of sight. He sits frozen, staring daze out of open windows. "Rafe?" 

His voice sounded hollow, "Go away." You heart dropped until his voice continues, "You are a specter. MC is gone. She left. Left me." His voice cracked, more tears spill over his lash line to trail down porcelain cheeks. His voice a near whisper, "I've lost you. I love you. I love you more than my homeland, my people. More than my very life. I have loved you through countless lifetimes and will through countless more." He clenched his eyes as he clenched his chest, "I love you enough to let you go if that's what you wish. I'd give it all for you. My last breath. So, please, leave. Don't haunt my mind like you've haunted my heart these last 800 years. You're gone. At last, you've chosen and it isn't me. Leave me to my heartbreak in peace. Leave me to fade into seafoam at last." 

A sob hiccupped past your lips. How could you have hurt him so? This beautiful man with such a beautiful heart and soul. You reached out to brush your fingers across his cheeks, fingers combing into lavender curls as you cup his cheeks, begging, imploring him to see you.  

His eyes shut, agony on his face. 

"I am here, Rafayel. I'm real." 

A choked sob fell from his lips. 

"Look at me." 

A shake of his head. If he does, you'll disappear. Slip through his fingers like mist. He wants to stay in his illusion just a while longer. Hear your voice just a while longer before he has to spend eternity without you, or at least, eternity until he fades away back into sea foam like so many of his people before. 

"Rafayel, my love, please look at me." 

Violet eyes opened, hesitant and sorrowful. 

You smiled, soft, full of love, thumbs wiping stray tears. "I am here. I'm sorry I got so mad earlier. It wasn't even about you; It was a long shitty day, and that's no excuse. You didn't deserve for me to react like that to what you were saying. And I'm sorry I ran. I hated that I was so upset and I couldn’t calm down, so I just need to step away, but- I hurt you. I hurt you so badly, and I never ever meant to. That's the last thing I want because I-" Your voice cracked, a lump of emotion in your throat. Your eyes fell, ashamed. "I just- gods, Rafayel, I love you so much it makes me feel crazy sometimes. I- I'm sorry this is not how I imagined telling you this." You started to pull away. 

Large, long fingered hands gripped your shoulders. "Say it again." 

You blinked, confused by the urgency in his voice as he searched your face. 

"Please. Please say it again or I will be convinced I imagined it." 

You studied his eyes. Firmly in his grip, your brows furrowed until it clicked. Your tension left you. Your hands rose once more to cup his face. A soft smile spread across yours as his cheeks pinken under your touch. "I love you, Rafayel. With all my hea-" 

You were jerked forward into his chest. His lips crashed onto yours. His hands were desperate as they clung to your back, crushing you closer, impossibly closer, as though he needed your very beings to blur into one. His tongue swiped at your lips, hot and wet, begging entry. Demanding it. 

You gasped from the intensity of his kiss. His passion poured forth like an unending wall of water bursting from a dam. His tongue danced along yours, caressing, tasting. Hungry and needy. Warm velvet and tasting of the wine you both had been drinking before your argument hours before. 

Your hands found his shoulders, trying to ground yourself or be swept away. You accidentally slipped out a sound. A needy sound of passion. His answering moan as he angled his head to kiss you deeper made a pleasant shiver run down your spine to pool between your legs. 

In a flash, his hands gripped your thighs, tugging you into his lap as he stood. 

You broke the kiss with a gasp, hands scrambling to hold on. Arms wrapping around his neck as his head ducked, his lips covering your neck in messy, hot, open mouthed kisses. 

"Wh-what? Where are you taking me?" 

His voice was a husky grumble from somewhere deep in his chest, as he licked and nipped at your throat. "I'm taking you to bed, my Heart." 

Next thing you knew, your back was falling onto cream silken sheets.  

He stood between your parted knees hanging over the edge of the bed. His violet eyes raked over your face hungrily. His lips were parted, chest rising and falling as he panted for breath. He didn't move, tongue peaking out to wet his lips. He was breathtaking. He was passion personified, hair mussed from your fingers, lips damp and red swollen from your kisses.  

His voice and the look in his eyes made your insides clench as he reached out, hand on your knee, thumb brushing the inside just so, "If you want me to stop... if you dont want this or..." his thumb stopped, he face flinched, eye closing briefly as though from pain, before opening to peer into your eyes. "If you are unsure of this, of us, of me, tell me now, because once we do this, once we... you will be mine, and I will be yours. It can't be undone. For Lemurians, this is for life, for all time. A soul bond. It's more than any mortal human tradition. More than marriage. It's unbreakable, unending, forever you'd be mine and I'd be yours. If you are unsure-" 

You sat up, going onto your knees atop the bed before him. Your palms rested on his shoulders, "Rafayel..." your hands slid down to his chest. "I- " Your hand stopped at the place on his chest were your mark laid, though the red fish wasn't visible now. Your eyes flicked to his, "I want this." Your hands were on the move again smoothing lower down his chest. "I want this bond. I-" Your hands found the bottom of his shirt, fingertips dancing along the hem before slipping under.  

He gasped, stomach muscles clenching beneath your touch as your hands found his taunt skin beneath.  

"I want forever. I want you." Your hands trailed up the plains of his chest, bringing his shirt with you. Until at last, you griped it in your hands, eyes meeting his in askance.  

His lashes fluttered, eyes falling half-mast. He was breathtaking. His arms rose, allowing you to lift the shirt from his body before flinging the offending material away. 

Your hands fell back to his shoulders, one sliding to cup his neck as you rose to meet him, chest pressing to his. His gaze turned molten, lust heavy and full of love as he looked over your face. His hands came to rest, just so at your waist, still hesitant but hopeful.  

Resolved, you pushed away your nerves, pulling his head down. Breath mingling with his, you gave him what he wanted. What he needed, "I love you. I chose you, Rafayel. Forever and always. Forever, you and me." 

His lips crashed into yours like waves upon a storm wall. He laid you down in a sea of silk and white rose petals.  

You snatched one, lifting it between you with a raise eyebrow.  

He flushed beautifully, "I had plans for us tonight." 

You dropped the petal, fingers weaving through his silken waves. "Show me." 

Clothes flew to land forgotten on the floor. Breaths panted; needy sounds filled the air, carried away through the open balcony windows and out to the sea. His hands and lips mapped you like you were a precious treasure. His lips and tongue worshipped you, swiping the salt from your skin. His breath was hot in your ear as he- at last- slotted his hips between your parted thighs.  

"My Heart, my Queen, my love," fell from his lips like a mantra.  

You felt him there, this mushroomed tip parting your lower lips, dragging the pooled wetness and spreading it. You gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. 

He groaned, head falling to nuzzle your neck. Still, he froze, going no further. He panted, asking, "Are you sure?" 

You cupped his face, dragging his eyes up to yours, "Rafayel, I have never been more sure of anything in my life. Take me. I am yours." You ran your fingers along his cheek, repeating his words from before, "A soul bond. unbreakable, unending, forever. This is what I chose. It's you, Rafayel. It's always been you." You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, causing his hips to drop. You gasped. His tip slipped into your molten heat just so. 

His head fell back, long pale neck exposed. He bit his lip. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. When his gaze fell back to you, his eyes were dark, like the ocean in a storm.  

Your walls clenched.  

His eyes squeezed shut, a moan falling from his lips, a curse followed. His gaze, heavy and passionate, were back on yours, his arms shaking, "So be it. My Heart, my Queen, my love," his mouth would curl slightly into a playful smirk, "my bride." His hips snapped forward, his full hard length pushing into your gummy walls to full hilt, his pelvis slapping hard into your fleshy cheeks. You could feel him, his tip kissing your cervix. A moan fell from your lips; a hiss of pleasure from his. He stilled buried fully inside you, muscles trembling with the strain. His jaw clenched as he fought for control, "Fuck, love, you feel so good." 

Your hands scrambled for purchase on his shoulders, as he rocked his hips dragging almost all the way out only to snap his hips back, slamming back in. Your nail dug into his back. A babble of praise fell from your lips, "So good. So good, Rafayel. So full." 

He groaned head dropping to your collarbone, "Fuck, love, I can feel you sucking me in." He hissed, "so tight. Like you were made just for me, yeah?" His hips pulled back, dragging his length along your walls until just the tip remained. He leaned up, brushing your hair from your face to cradle your head in one hand, the other braced him on the bed near your head. "Look at me. I want to watch you as I make you mine." 

When your eyes fund his, his face softened a moment. His eyes sweeping over your face in awe before meeting and holding your gaze, he whispered a breathy, "I love you." His eyes darkened with heat again, and he snapped his hips to crash back into yours. He swallowed your answering moan with a bruising kiss, drinking you in, as his hip set a brutal rhythm.  

You clung to him, hips eagerly tilting and undulating to meet his as he pounded you into the sheets. The headboard slammed repeatedly into the wall. You shifted up slightly each powerful thrust. His hands grabbed yours bringing them to wrap around his shoulders, "Brace yourself against me, my love. Fuck! I'm going to ruin you. Ruin you for all others! MC, you are perfect. And you are mine." He melded his lips to yours, tongue moving along yours gently and loving. A sharp contrast to how he was fucking you into his bed. His thrusts were hard and deep, rolling into you like waves. The sound of slapping skin filled the air.  

You gasped, moaned, pleaded as he made your head spin with pleasure, "Yes! Yes, Rafayel! I am yours! Make me yours!" 

The sound that rumbled from his chest was a near growl as he leaned up to grip the headboard with one hand for leverage, his hips doubled in speed. His abs rolled as he kept one hand braced above your shoulder, locking you in place as he repeatedly slammed his cock as deep into as he could get. 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you clung to his arms. Your legs went limp around his waist as pleasure boiled inside you, hot and heavy. Your head thrashed from side to side from the intensity of the waves of sharp pleasure swelling inside you. Your walls began fluttering, clenching, wrapping at his hard length as he pummeled your insides. His tip kissed your cervix with each thrust, giving a burst of the slightest pain-pleasure. You could feel the wetness of you gushing out passed his shaft as it pounded in and out of your tight channel, every ridge of him dragging along your walls in the best way. You were not going to last long. No one, not even yourself had ever gotten you this wet and close to orgasm as Rafayel was doing. It was as though he knew exactly how to make your body sing for him. 

He shifted. The angle changed and you gasped, clinging, clawing, nails digging as his tip bullied into your g-spot with every snap of his hips.  

"Fu-fuck baby!" You wailed, "God's, Rafayel, right there, baby. Please don't stop. Don't stop!" 

His response was a snarl in your ear as his hips snapped into that spot in double time. "Never. I'll never stop. Never stop making love to you, my love. My bride." He kissed you deeply as your walls started spasming. Your climax was close. A hand of his dropped from your neck to slip between you to where you are joined. His fingertips finding the pearl above where he slides into you. The pad of his finger swirling, circling and pressing your clit just right. 

You moaned, head thrown back, "Yess!" 

He covered your neck in love marks, branding you as his. His lips moved to your ear, nipping at the skin right below it, "Are you gonna come for me, my love? Are you gonna come all over my cock like a good girl. Be good bride, hm, come for me," his voice was pure sin in your ear. 

You could only whimper and cling to him, desperate.  

"Answer me. Tell me who you belong to. Say it. I want the people down the beach to hear you scream it. To hear whose cock makes you feel this good. Say it. Say who you belong to." 

You sputtered and gasped out sobs, in capable of words as you race towards your end. 

He took your hips in his hands. He leaned back on his knees. He rose your hips off the bed. His hips slamming into you, hard and fast- almost inhumanly so. The plop, plop, plop of his sack as it slaps against the sticky mess of your cheeks filled the room. He groaned, "Fuck, baby. You feel so good for me. I fucking love you, MC. Fuck, I love you." 

The coil within you snapped and pulses of white hot heat sent tremors, shockwave through your body as your core clamped down on his shaft. Your head fell back as you screamed out his name in the height of your passion, in reverence, "Rafayel!" You sobbed. Actual tears escaped as the white hot waves of orgasm mixed with love for him kept coming.  

His hips never stopped slamming his hard cock into you, bruising your g-spot and cervix. It was heaven. It was bliss. It was so much. It was almost too much. You tensed nearly about to say stop when a sensation you had never felt before hit you like a brick. Your core tightened, abs clenching, your very womb felt like it clenched, your walls clamped tight down around him, almost stopping his movement completely. Then the spasms, ripples of pleasure pulsed from your womb down your walls, massaging, milking, clenching his shaft inside you. You vaguely hear him hiss and a debauched, "Fuck," escape his lips. And  then you feel a gush of warm liquid splash out of you and all over his dick and pelvis. 

Rafayel's violet gaze widened, his grip tightening almost painfully into the fleshy meat of your hips as he held you against him. His head fell back and he moaned, fully wrecked. "Fuck! Babygirl, you just squirted for me." 

Your core clenched at his words even as high sensitivity began to creep in, but he felt so good. So good and hard inside you. You could tell he wasn't too far off. Just the thought of it turned you back on. You desperately wanted to see him lose himself to orgasm. And he was so fucking beautiful as he began rolling his hips into yours again. 

You must've said that last part out loud, because he looked back down at you, lip caught between his teeth before he released it, plump and full. You wanted to bite it. A smirk was on his face, "Yeah? Is that so, babygirl?" His eyes darkened as his hips picked up speed, rolling more into you, faster as he spoke, "You know what's beautiful? You. You splayed out on my bed, looking fucked out, covered in your cum, face flushed as I. Fuck. You." He punctuated his words with a hard thrust, fingers digging into your hips deliciously. 

You gasped, walls clenching again as he steadily fucked you into another crest. His face fell into a grimace, as your walls, overstimulated into another quickly growing orgasm, clenched and released and clenched his shaft as he began to thrust into you with wild abandon, "Fuck, babygirl, I can feel you clenching me, yeah? You love the feel of this dick pounding you, don't you? So. Fucking. Beautiful. And. All. Mine." 

His mouth was filthy. Filthy and hot. You had never heard Rafayel speak in such a way. Rafayel who was often bashful and blushing when your flirting. Rafayel who tended to be a pouty needy boy that made your heart melt. This Rafayel was just as needy. But in a way you had never seen him before, as he panted your name from his lips like a mantra. His gorgeous head tossed back, neck exposed, abs clenching and rolling his hips as he slammed into you, face flushed and skin covered in a sheen of sweat. He was breathtaking. He was yours. You wanted him to come, and come for you now. 

Your hands scrambled to the headboard above you, bracing against it in determination. You started to roll your hips into his, meeting each powerful thrust with as much force as he was giving you. You were gonna come again but this time, this time, you were taking him with you. 

He gasped, fingers digging into your fleshy hips. His eyes snapped down to you, seeing the heat in your eyes as they raked over his body, your lip caught between your teeth. He groaned at the sight and at the feel of your hips moving in rhythm with his. "F-fuck, my love, I'm gonna come. Where do you- where should I-?" His voice is completely fucked out. Almost drunk. 

You tugged his arm and he fell back over you, compliant to your every whim, your knees swept up to rest over his arms as he braced himself with them framing your waist. Your legs were trapped pressed up and apart, unable to move as freely, to roll as deeply with your knees hooked over his forearms like this. But oh. You saw stars and he moaned in your ear. At this angle, with you opened wide, it felt like he went deeper. You both gasped out moans. Your lips brushed his ear as you told him your deepest want right then, "Inside. I want you inside me. Please, Rafayel. I want to feel all of you. Fill me up." 

He groaned, a pained sound before driving into you in earnest, "I am gonna come. I cant- I can't hold on much more." 

Your walls fluttered at the needy sound of his voice. Your Rafayel. Your beautiful Rafayel. He was so like the ocean, so many faucets to his personality. He could be calm loving one moment then demanding and passionate and then needy the next. You loved him. You loved all of him and he was all yours. 

"I'm coming too, baby. Let go" you implored him, "I want it. I am yours and you are mine. Forever. I want all of you. Give it to me." 

With a few more slams of his cock into your depths, you felt the moment he lost control of it. His forehead pressed to yours, noses brushing, as he let out a long moan of pleasure mixed with your name. His shaft pulsed as rope after rope of hot cum filled your womb. His blissed out face, the grind of his pelvis into your clit, the twitching of his cock as he came inside, and the warmth that flooded your inner most parts triggered your orgasm. 

"F-fuck!" He hissed out, blissfully as your walls milked him further. His thrust slowed until it was just a slow drag. His breath, panted by your ear. He peppered your neck and shoulder with kisses, before pulling back to press his lips lovingly against yours. When he pulled away, you noticed his eyes were nearly glowing blue as the Mediterranean sea, a spackling of blue iridescent scales freckled down his throat to his chest.  

Your fingertips followed the trail as his hips finally rested, fully seat against yours, spent, but refusing to leave your warmth. You could feel the hot mix of both of your fluids spilling out around where his now soft member still rested within your walls. Your eyes flicked up to his, watching you full of love. Your gut twisted in guilt, remembering what got you here. "I am sorry I ran out. I was so angry. I so angry, and it hurt to be so angry at you. I felt overwhelmed. I just... I needed space. To breathe. To calm down so I could think." 

He tutted, fingers combing some of your messy hair from your face. "Hush now, my bride. It is okay now. You came back to me. We are together. We are one now. That is all that matters." His eyes trailed your face before a sheepish look fell over his expression, "Besides, it was my fault you got overwhelmed. I kept pushing and pushing even when you said you needed to think. I was terrified that I was losing you so I couldn't bring myself to give you a moment." His eyes met yours, "I am sorry." 

You hummed, "Still I shouldn't have ran from you. I know about our pasts and I know that me leaving is something you fear. It was cruel of me," your heart lunched at the flicker of pain in his gaze. 

"Very well, though, I must admit I feel guilty for making you feel like what happened in those past lives is your responsibility. They both were and were not you. That's not your burden to carry." 

It was your turn to tsk, "I love you. Your burdens are my burdens. It's you and me, forever, Rafayel. You don't have to carry everything alone. Not anymore. Never again." 

His eyes went soft, as he dipped his head to press a kiss to your lips, "Whatever you say, my bride." 

You nuzzled into his palm cupping your cheek, "I do say. How about we both agree we are both idiots in love and leave it at that?" 

His chuckling at that shook you slightly. As your bodies were still pressed together, it shifted his shaft slightly inside of you. You realized that it was not all that soft anymore, and that he never left your heat. Your breath caught in your throat. Your walls fluttered around him. 

He hissed, head snapping up to meet your gaze. His eyes mischievous, "You want more of your Fishy husband, hm?" His hips gently pulsed, in and out of your heat slowly, testing the waters, a smirk stretching his mouth as you gasped from pleasure. 

Your eyes widen at his words. He had been calling you his bride. And now calling himself your husband. 

Seeing your look, he stilled and became worried, brows furrowing slightly. A blush spread across his cheeks and down his chest as his face becomes more pouty than the heat it held before, "I did say that to Lemurians this was essentially more binding than any silly human marriage." 

"You didn't say it quite like that!" You reeled dazed, your mind racing. 

His face crumpled before he smoothed his expression to one of more indifference. He plucked a shoulder in a shrug and rolled off of you, making you hiss as he slid out of you for the first time since you joined. 

He flopped onto his back a short distance away, "I apologize. I guess I should've been more clear. It's okay though. You won't feel the effects. We can pretend we didn't-" he gasped as you appeared over him and on him, having thrown your leg over his hip. You pressed him to the bed with a hand to his chest, your legs caging his hips between your thighs. "Nnngh," he groaned as you lowered your hips to sit over his pelvis, his once again harden length pressed between your nether lips, soaked in both of your juices from before. He had to fight not to roll his hips up into you, but settled for gripping your hips firmly. 

You sighed, hands moving, fingers dancing across the pale skin of his chest, from freckle to scale. "I never said I didn't want it." 

He stilled, eyes studying you intently. Holding his breath even. 

"I do want it. Want you. I told you, Rafayel, it's you and me. Forever." 

His grip lightened. His thumbs brushed tenderly across your skin. 

Your eyes sought out his, warm and tender. "So, husband," you grinned as his breath caught in his throat. "How do Lemurians enjoy their honeymoon?" You swiveled your hips to drag your wet heat along his now very hard again shaft. 

He gripped your hips, smirk nearly feral, "Let me show you, my Bride." 

[unrelatedwaffle]

I'm still thinking about hbomberguy's Plagiarism video and I think there's still going to be a lot of student plagiarism because...writing based on synthesizing info from multiple sources is tough, and rephrasing someone's entire sentence structure FEELS like "writing in your own words" enough that it's not obvious to beginners how blatant it is.

if you struggle with writing research papers, often procrastinate and then scramble to assemble a paper from a single source, you are setting yourself up for likely plagiarism. here are some real tips for avoiding this and getting better at academic writing. these are a short version of sonke ahrens's great book on the Zettelkasten method, How to Take Smart Notes (which i recommend reading, but it is one of those Books That Could Have Been a Blog Post, as If Books Could Kill would say, and the full Zettelkasten method is probably overkill for most people).

1. Take notes on what the texts make you think while you read, with a pen and paper, in your own words. These are not summary notes, but "this section reminds me of that one episode of the simpsons" or "i don't think it's true that willpower is finite..." these are your own thoughts and feelings

2. When you're completely done with an article or book chapter, start a note file on the computer with the proper citation at the top and write a 1-2 sentence summary of the content of what you just read. Without looking at the text. Yes, this is hard!!

3. Go through your personal notes from step 1 and see if anything there is a Big General Idea or theme. It may take reading a few articles or stepping away/thinking in the shower before these emerge. "Hmm I'm noticing that a lot of societies have similar rituals about food and gratefulness, I wonder if it's a superstitious way to ensure future abundance?" Elaborate on that in a separate note.

4. You can weave the notes from Step 3 into a thesis statement with supporting arguments properly summarized and supported with info from Step 1.

[literaticat]

Jennifer, I'm hearing from creators that some publishers either are or will require authors to disclose if they used AI in any way to write their book. Even brainstorming. Is there any truth to this?

I use AI to help me plot out my stories (I'm Horrible at plotting, honestly) and to help me battle writers block. Not to generate my stories!

will people look down on me for this? I'm definitely not going to lie, but some part of me wonders why it's their business if I'm not using AI to generate text. I feel so conflicted.

Well, yes and no?

Short answer: Just don't use AI to write your book. You will probably have to sign a contract that says you didn't use AI to write your book, and you shouldn't anyway, for lots of reasons. However, using AI tools is not the same thing as AI writing your book, so relax.

Long answer:

There are two (main) ways AI might come up in a contract. One is in the Warranties clause** (which I'll explain in the footnote below), and the other is in an AI clause -- not all publishers have them (yet?) but generally the AI clause has some wording like, neither the publisher or author can sell or license or give permission for the text to be "Scraped" by AI technology -- additionally, something like either the publisher or author may use AI tools in the course of normal business, but nothing in the text was generated by AI, the editor will be human, not AI, etc.

You'll notice here that both the author AND the publisher are held to the same standard -- that's important. And you'll also notice that it acknowledges that AI is a tool that MAY be used in the normal course of business. Zoom, google/gmail, adobe photoshop/acrobat, microsoft outlook/office-- all programs that publishers and authors use every day, any of which might have AI things woven into them. Autocorrect? Spellcheck? Grammarly? The thing on my tumblr RIGHT NOW that is highlighting words I should have capitalized in the sentence above? That's all AI technology. Obviously you don't have to "disclose" that you use normal tools of doing business.

If that includes "give me a list of girls names popular in the 1970s" or "what are some accidents that could happen at a skating rink" or "give me an example of plot beats in a mystery" -- OK. I still consider that a TOOL.

As long as you, a human, understand that generative AI technology uses other people's words to "create" -- so for fiction, OK if you want to brainstorm names or beats or whatever as above, as long as you are NOT USING IT TO WRITE THE BOOK -- YOU MUST WRITE THE STORY AND THE WORDS IN THE STORY.

And for nonfiction, AI makes up answers to questions that SOUND good but are actually just lies -- so PLEASE don't use AI technology to do actual research -- do your due diligence, make sure that any research you do online in any capacity (including Google) is factual, has primary sources to back it up, etc, etc. It's not actually a useful shortcut if all the info it gives you is straight up bad.

--

** In all publisher contracts there's a clause called Warranties and Indemnities. In that clause, you are warranting (swearing) that you have not plagiarized your book, that you personally created and own the rights to the book so you have the ability to sell/license them, that you have full permission for anyone else's work that you have quoted in the book, that nothing in the book breaches the law, yadda yadda.

IF ALL OF THAT IS THE TRUTH, and somebody sues you for plagiarism or copyright infringement or whatever, and you really didn't do it, the publisher will defend you and you won't have a problem. If, in fact, you lied in the Warranties section, then the publisher will not defend you and will cancel the contract and you'll be liable for whatever happens and can twist in the wind as far as they are concerned.

Some publishers are adding / have added / will add something in the Warranties clause where you also attest that the text is not generated by AI. (This is for several reasons aside from the fact that AI generated stories are crapola -- 1. AFAIK, AI generated text cannot be copyrighted, and 2. AI generated text may be plagiarized, soooo you'd be in danger of being in breach of your warranty even if it DIDN'T specifically call out AI!)

[4dbarbie-archive]

4dbarbie remix: How to realise Self?

Disclaimer: This remix/mashup post was compiled by me, a student of 4dbarbie as a way to make sense of everything and to understand how to apply the knowledge practically. I went through all her posts and answered asks to make this which is made up of various parts of 25 49 (omg lol there was a lot of good stuff) different posts and answered asks. It is not an original post by 4dbarbie herself but all words are directly from her various posts and answered asks (except for my clarification notes which are in purple text in brackets & the last section after the last divider where I make some closing comments). Hopefully the way I've organised the information in this post makes sense and helps some Vanessas out there. ♡

Fair warning as this is a pretty long post essay (!) so maybe grab a cup of tea or something :) If you are really new to all this then take some time to really process it, there is no rush. My personal notes and highlights are in pink for main points and purple for 'action' points.

May we all realize our Self ♡

There would be no steps necessary, no process to undertake if you would just establish yourself in the I AM alone. You are so lost in your play you forget reality. 1 If you are "I AM", it means you are not the person experiencing the world/thoughts/circumstances, you never were. 2

The external world, you control it (because it is you!, in you), you make it, fully, even when you tell yourself you don't. 3 To know yourself as the source of all that is, you have to first remove the veil of what's stopping you from seeing it in the first place. To know your real being, you have to first abandon what you thought yourself to be. 4 There is no external life, there is no need to use any methods to recondition or train your mind. It is much faster, much easier and you are hundreds times happier just letting go of the mind. 5 The process is one of letting go more and more until you find yourself having nothing, being nothing. The thing about nothing though is that it's the only thing that can take the shape of everything. 6

A jeweler who wants to refashion an ornament, first melts it down to shapeless gold. Similarly, one must return to one's original state before a new name and form can emerge. The only way to renewal lies through destruction. You must melt down the old jewellery into formless gold before you can mold a new one. What refuses to die cannot be reborn. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj 7

Stop thinking you are Vanessa, the thoughts of needing this or that drop away. By thinking you are it, you create a character who desires and then identify yourself with it. You can only have when you let go of thinking that you don't. To change, you need to give up this conviction of being this person. You need to disbelieve. 9

Most of you can't change because you are so desperate TO change... but there is nothing to want to change. Things just are. Don't work with changing self, just realize who self actually is. 10

You have it, all is well. Just stop believing the illusions born out of thinking you're a person. 11

Unless they understand who they really are, that Vanessa is a habit and nothing more - that nothing has existence outside of awareness, including her, that awareness assigns reality and is the only reality - they're always going to struggle to control something and get frustrated they don't see what they think they're aware of. What you're aware of is what you're being. You can't be aware of being something new while also being Vanessa. 12

Knowing is being. If you really knew, the thing you knew would be materialized. You know you are Vanessa so you're being Vanessa. Would you want Vanessa if you were her? No. You are her so you don't desire her. And you won't be able to be Vanessa 2.0 if you don't shed this Vanessa first. That is, let go of thinking the thoughts are yours. 8

Your memories of the life Vanessa lived are now and not in a past. You are imagining her past being now. Her past exists now because you are aware of it now. If you were Lara you would be aware of a different past, still now. Basically there was no yesterday and you are imagining "a past having been" today. 13

Anon: "Do I have to endure the world while I know my self as awareness and disbelieve that I am Vanessa???" Ada: THE POINT OF KNOWING YOURSELF AS AWARENESS IS TO DO WHATEVER THE HELL YOU WANT AT ALL TIMES, FOREVER. It's complete, incomparable freedom and power. It's the only real love. 14

You are either your Self with nothing attached to it or you're an ego. Disbelieve you were ever her. See what happens. 41

A lot of beliefs are subconscious. "I am a body", "I am Vanessa", "There is a world" are all subconscious, automatic beliefs. Upon investigation you can get rid of any belief (by making them conscious and then dropping them). 15 How do you drop a belief? (see part 1 and part 2)

HOW TO STOP?

The body and the mind are only symptoms of ignorance, of misapprehension. Behave as if you were pure awareness, bodiless and mindless, spaceless and timeless, beyond 'where' and 'when' and 'how'. Dwell on it, think of it, learn to accept its reality. Don't oppose it and deny it all the time. Keep an open mind at least. Make your mind and body express the real which is ALL and beyond all. By doing, you succeed. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj

You need not take time to meditate or put time aside to contemplate and "apply". All you need to do is detach from this form during the day, let life happen as it happens while reminding yourself it's a dream, a dream that doesn't have to be yours. 16 It is your own desire to hold on to it that creates the problem. Let go. Stop imagining that the dream is yours. As long as you give reality to dreams, you are their slave; see all as a dream and stay out of it. 17

You imagine that there is an external world in which the you that you're identified with lives, but all of that is in your mind. Stop imagining it's true and it dissolves, which can only mean it never was. Which can only mean you assigned reality to it by thinking you're it 18

I've said it before, you don't have to convince Vanessa that she's unreal. Just stop taking the thoughts you don't like for truth or reality. There is no convincing involved, it is all letting go... you're holding so tightly onto your ideas now, that's why you can't see their falsity. 19 You don't have to convince anyone of anything. What I teach here is to leave your mind alone, that is all. Don't go along with it. 2 Thoughts will keep on coming for a while, just now you know they have nothing to do with you. Get into a habit of watching, letting them be but not identifying with them. If you can observe them, it means you are not them. 32 Doesn't matter what the thought is, leave it alone, ignore it BUT not by force of will, just indifference. We've established you aren't the ego, alright? Thoughts, right now, are from the ego. 20

Thoughts of the past life come, remember they no longer have anything to do with you. Literal full delusion (I only call it that because after being identified with a person for so long, it's mind-blowing to grasp you are not that). Thoughts are not yours, complete indifference - no need to fight them. Where they come from, none of your business. Only know they are not yours. YOU not being in your desired reality is a thought, got it? This body and this world are not forced onto you, they exist through your identification with them. Not yours, remember? Repeat. Not yours. You won't lose your mind, you'll only lose your misery. After you've detached, you'll easily shift to as many realities as you want - don't put any on a pedestal of desire, they are equal. See this world and the body as not real first. What is true is only what I AM is identified with, right now this body which is not in that TV show (referring to anon's desire). Correct this first by letting go of thinking it's you. 21

You don't need to convince yourself they're unreal, just dismiss them as not yours. They will disappear more and more through your newfound indifference, then their physical counterparts will, too. Detachment is by doubt and indifference. First you start doubting "the facts", then you become indifferent to the facts, lastly there are no facts anymore and you can establish your own. 20

Start letting go bit by bit, just to see what happens, you won't start "acting crazy" just because you become uninterested in thoughts, I promise 22

What I recommend you to do is bring your self into focus, become aware of your own existence. See how you function, watch the motives and the results of your actions. Study the prison you have built around yourself because of credulity. By knowing what you are not, you come to know your self. The way back to your self is through refusal and rejection. 23

Here's a scale of emotions you go through, from bottom to top: apathy, grief, fear, hostility, anger, indifference, acceptance, freedom finally - and then unlimited, independent joy. You can review this to see where you are on the journey and what should come next. You can't skip them, all of them have to happen for you to have the all. 14

Do not try to understand any more, just be. And let other things be as they are. Even if you're not happy about what you see, there is no way around it besides accepting it. As long as you fight it and try so hard & incessantly to change it, you're only giving it further reality. 14

If you are angry or in pain, separate yourself from anger and pain and watch them. Step away and look. The physical events will go on happening, but by themselves they have no importance. It is your mind alone that matters. When you identify yourself with them, you are their slave, you think you have to act on them. When you stand apart, you are their master. 24

One thing is certain: the real is not imaginary, it is not a product of the mind. 23

You are beyond the mind. Mind and body become your servants once you discover your Self. The present moment is all that is, so yes - become aware of having never been the ego, of your ego being just one of your creations. Ego is the concept of individuality, of separation from the “I", and the All. Therefore ego is a false assumption. We are really the Supreme Reality, we are not separate from It. To "fix" the separation, reject what you are not. Only look at who you are, over and over and over until it becomes the permanent identification and replaces the ego. 25

Once you are convinced that you cannot say truthfully about your self anything except ‘I am’, and that nothing that can be pointed at, can be your self, the need for the ‘I am’ is over — you are no longer intent on verbalising what you are. All you need is to get rid of the tendency to define your self. All definitions apply to your body only and to its expressions. Once this obsession with the body goes, you will revert to your natural state, spontaneously and effortlessly. 23

Drop the false ideas first and watch. After what keeps you stuck goes, you can do whatever you want. You can think the ugliest thoughts and nothing will happen if you know yourself as who you are. It's your identification with the thought that causes the thought to be true. 26

The guilt is because you think you're running out of time and you need to change "your" life now. Be patient with yourself because you don't lose any time, just get to that place I'm telling you about and then you can just go back in time if you so wish. All worry is pointless! And there is nothing to fear, things just happen, do not claim them as yours for a while. Unclutter your mind, it becomes your servant after you've freed it enough. 27

She (Vanessa) will vanish yes, you ask how because you still think waking is more real than a dream. Do your dreams not vanish? Do you wonder how they vanish? They just stop existing all of a sudden when you go into another dream (waking). What if you've lived all your life as Ada and woke up one morning and were suddenly Vanessa with no memory of Ada, would you know anybody vanished? Nope. All you know is who you are right now (because present is all that is), which is Vanessa. 28 Leave poor Vanessa alone, with both her desires and fears, disbelieve you are her until reality becomes self-obvious.

By being your Self you gain the freedom of existing as anything, anytime. You don't lose Vanessa's pretty body if you don't want to stop imagining yourself as being Vanessa with her pretty body. 29

Nothing is lost, awareness just shifts. You can always go back. We're just removing the obstacles that stop you from having this freedom of choice (your identification with this person). You can completely wipe out Vanessa's existence as well. Later if you change your mind, you can make it so that she actually existed again. You are no form, you are formless, the form only is when you imagine there is a form, be your favorite form and dream beautiful dreams :) 30

There is no difference between sleeping and waking, awareness is the background of both. You just think the waking state more real because you've dreamt it over and over and reinforced your belief. They're equally imaginary. Become aware of this and life will forever be a breeze. 31

All depends on you. It is by your consent that the world exists. Withdraw your belief in its reality and it will dissolve like a dream. Cease from looking for happiness and reality in a dream and you will wake up. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj 17

Your next step will be realizing there is nothing to learn in a dream. You'll find yourself having less and less thoughts, then none at all. Then, only if you want, you will be able to reinstall the mind, now of your choice, and change the dream. 16

Past doesn't come up anymore, memories don't come up anymore after you've ignored (thoughts) & detached yourself enough. They just don't. You can think freely now about being something different. If you can't, don't get mad, don't blame, only know that the one that's doubting isn't you, so the doubts are totally fine to be. They'll be for a while and then they dissolve too, because by ignoring, not getting involved - you forget. And by forgetting not only do you free up so much mental space, but possibilities of what can be, become unnumbered. 36 Anon: Is it okay to feel completely indifferent after learning about this stuff? Like, not feeling as worried about what is playing in front of me since I know its not me Ada: That's the goal. Then become indifferent to the thoughts you get as well. Those aren't yours either. You'll become aware they've dissolved & you can reconstruct the mind however you want because you have no attachment to past beliefs anymore. 33

Even the process is very beautiful... but the very best is when your Self becomes the permanent background instead of Vanessa. Now you always return to Vanessa, later you'll forget to consider her ♡ Dream not of a character who wants and desires, there is nothing to long for — only things to be. 16

To not depend on anything but everything to depend on you is a top state you can grasp with no method. 5 The experience is of being empty, uncluttered by memories and expectations; it is like the happiness of open spaces, of being young, of having all the time and energy for doing things, for discovery, for adventure. A sense of 'there is nothing wrong with me. I have nothing to worry about'. But not one you condition yourself into like you conditioned yourself into a body, it is one that naturally and effortlessly dawns on you by itself when you reject all else, because it is your natural state. 34 Real freedom and real love only emerge when you're not identified with a transient ego. 35

All you are doing is becoming lucid. Becoming able to control the dream. You won't be able to, unless you step out of it. That is, stop thinking this story you tell yourself is true. When Vanessa is no longer all you are, you'll be able to 'change reality' the way you change the film in a video projector. You'll be able to have as much fun in the play as you want to, change it when you no longer want this one specifically. The emotions of the character are fun and welcomed, because they no longer imprison you, there's the background of love to it all - that once you gain, it can't be lost, it's ever present. 36

What you are identified with materializes. If you are not, it disappears. 37

Just let go of the ego, that’s how simple it is. All you need to fix is your wrong identification. There isn't anyone who couldn’t materialize anything right now if he or she would just let go of identifying as the limited body. 38

Only by letting go of all do you gain everything. But once it's done, it's done irreversibly. Fear is no more, control is fully yours. You are free, completely. And with the bliss of freedom no human pleasure compares. You become full love, full power. The absolute and only power. Sooner or later, you will arrive at the same conclusion. You can't stop being what you are, all else can stop existing, but you can't. The only thing you have a choice in is delaying seeing it by thinking you are this or that. Only see it (I Am), then you can imagine whatever you want and it will be. 39

If you project the world, it is within your power to change it. But you must stop identifying yourself with it first. Go beyond, then you have all the power to destroy and recreate. All everybody wants is to be free, but to do that you must know two things: what you are to be free from and what keeps you bound. 2

Your own self is your ultimate teacher, the outer teacher is merely a milestone. It is only your inner teacher that will walk with you to the goal, because he is the goal. - Nisargadatta Maharaj 40

Got more questions? Recommended reading:

Ada's recommended guides on realizing Self: 1, 2, 3

My recommended posts from Ada*: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

All references from the remix post

Books: I Am That by Nisargadatta Maharaj** and Keys to The Ultimate Freedom by Lester Levenson

*in addition to the sources linked in the post **a lot of her posts incorporate quotes and excerpts from this book, moreso than Lester Levenson's Keys to The Ultimate Freedom and she also shared a lot of excerpts from the book

What does this look like when applied?

Experience is the best teacher and learning from other's experiences and how they applied this knowledge can be really valuable and insightful. I don't define success based on materialising things necessarily although that is one result of realizing Self.

From 4dbarbie students: see the tag

Other: 1, 2

Okay, what to do after reading all this?

Apply apply apply. Don't wait, nothing will happen by waiting. There is only now. Inquire who is causing trouble and to whom. You can't think yourself into realization. 'You' are beyond the mind. You are the creator of the mind. It must be experienced.

[ad-ciu]

Guth: Reading Irish Myths & Legends

Now that I am a Real Grown-Up Academic (tm), I have been trying to find a way to support my students and the general public by making medieval Irish literature more accessible to people who, be it a lack of time, disability, or any other factor, find sitting down and reading the original texts challenging.

What I settled on was creating a Podcast where I sit down and read out of copyright translations of Irish legends which I have called Guth: Reading Irish Myths and Legends.

If that's all you need to hear, you can go check it out right now! It is on Spotify (here), Podbean (here), and YouTube (here), and should be on Apple Music in the coming weeks. Alternatively, it is embedded here:

For those of you who need a harder sell, or want to know more about it, check out below!

So, why Guth? Well, I have encountered several different Podcasts and YouTube Channels out there which are doing something similar, recording audio of them reading medieval Irish legends. While several of these are quite cool, there are issues.

In terms of more benign issues, to get around the issues of copyright, people in these alternatives tend to retell stories, and while that is very cool as an example of something like an oral tradition, it means the stories are often being altered and changed by a non-expert audience. Elements that are not very important are being given great importance, areas that are very important are cut, and sometimes things are incorporated from other texts to make an unspoken composite (or, alternatively, sometimes people cut a section of a text out and retell it independent of its broader context).

These aren't bad, but, it means these other Podcasts and Videos aren't really suitable for my purposes of supporting my students and giving people access to the actual stories.

In terms of the big problems, there is at least one Podcast on a similar topic being presented by someone who I have reason to suspect is faking having a PhD. Further, there are at least two people putting out content like this that are actively forging content and passing it off as authentic who just so happen to also be Fascists. So, not ideal.

I hope Guth can serve my students and interested members of the public by providing a solid academic perspective on a text. Each episode I open with a discussion of our manuscript sources and the date of the text (a lot of other pieces out there will describe tales as 'ancient', when in actuality they're a 14th century scribe just vibin'). I then read the text exactly as it is translated, including using reconstructed Old Irish pronunciation for all the names that appear in the text. Lastly, I conclude with a brief discussion of secondary scholarship I think is particularly relevant for the interests of the public.

All of that to say, I hope people enjoy Guth, and that it can serve people who are interested in the actual medieval tales rather than the various retellings that are circulating out there.

[finnlongman]

"And his hand in the hand of Láeg mac Ríangabra..."

My previous posts about the variants of Oidheadh Con Culainn were getting very long with all the reblogs and ramblings, so I thought I would do a summary.

Last week, I was idly paging through NLI MS G113 to check the terminology it uses for Láeg. This manuscript was written in 1703, in Co. Cork, by poet Uilliam mac Cartáin. I discovered that in this version of the text, Cú Chulainn dies "with his back against the standing stone and his hand in the hand of Láeg mac Ríangabra".

Although Láeg is usually present in this scene, I had never seen this particular detail before, and being the #1 fan of Láeg mac Ríangabra, I was obviously extremely intrigued and emotional. (Code for: I cried and then I screamed about it to everyone I knew.)

Not only this, but after Cú Chulainn's death, Láeg went back to kiss Cú Chulainn's body, hold him, and grieve for him, which is something he isn't given the opportunity to do in any of the versions that I knew. Wow.

Yesterday, I decided to check for other digitised manuscripts of this text, and I found RIA MS 23 M 25, a slightly earlier manuscript written probably in Co. Cork in the late 17th century -- probably 1684 for this section. To my amazement, it also contained this line:

Further investigation found it in two more Cork manuscripts -- a late 18th century one (RIA 23 G 21) and a 19th century one (Newman College O'Donnell II), both by scribes of the Ó Longáin family. The 18th century one isn't digitised, but I was able to read a transcription of it produced by Julia Kühns in her 2009 PhD thesis; the 19th century one is now held in Newman College in Melbourne, Australia, and looks like this:

All four of these manuscripts contain the detail that Cú Chulainn died with his back against the standing stone and his hand in the hand of Láeg mac Ríangabra.

All four of these manuscripts were written in Co. Cork, though chronologically they're quite dispersed.

There are two more manuscripts that Kühns groups alongside these in her study, one which has a strong Cork connection and one which doesn't. These aren't digitised and she didn't transcribe this passage, so I can't be certain it's there (her grouping is based on other elements, and she doesn't discuss this detail), but I would imagine it must be. I hope to go to TCD at some point and view them.

On the basis of the evidence I've got, though, it seems to me that this was a Cork variant of the story. The wording of this line is identical -- if they're not all copying from each other (and there are some other variations that might suggest they're not), they're definitely copying from a shared source. What that source was and how far it predates the 1684 manuscript, I don't know yet.

But so far, only G113 contains the scene where Láeg grieves and says goodbye to Cú Chulainn. Given that this MS was written by a known poet who wrote a lot of laments and emotional works, it may be that he added this to heighten the emotional experience. To my admittedly inexpert eye, it shows some strong signs of Munster Irish, which lends credence to the idea that it was locally composed, and since it's not in the other MSS, there's no reason yet to think it's not Uilliam's addition for the sake of feelings. In which case, it worked. Thanks, Liam, you made me cry 221 years later.

And now you're caught up!

[dragonpropaganda]

you should talk about your thoughts on rw fanon (looking with huge eyes)

Oh god, there's a lot of major misconceptions have concreted into fanon, mostly around ancient society and ascension.

First things first! Ascension is not death! They are entirely separate things treated entirely separately by the text of the game. I can see where the interpretation is coming from, but it doesn't really align with how the text treats either subject. Five Pebbles may want to remove the self destruction taboo, but from his reaction to the rot it's clear that he doesn't want to die. Conflation of ascension and death only comes up as an offhand possibility that pebbs makes on iterator 4chan, when he's going into the possibilities of scenarios that even the other sliverists are doubtful of! (let me make clear that I am not a sliverist by any means)

Ascension is more of talked about as a form of transcendence, yeah? A Bell, Eighteen Amber Beads talks about their sitution as being "To have grasped at the boundless infinites of the cosmic void…", not as them seeking an end to life.

The beta dialogue goes into more detail, mentioning the "infinities of time and space" and the "boundless fractal planes of spirit and reality...", though this dialogue was cut and it's hard to tell how much it reflects the concept as in the released game.

As for the cultural misconceptions... there's A Lot to talk about, but the first that comes to mind is the common conflation of the five natural urges and the christian concept of sin.

It is true that the negation of urges is mentioned by moon as an alternative method of ascension, but much of what we know about the culture of the people who the fandom calls the ancients (which makes discussion of the depths a mess but that's something for another post entirely) points towards the urges not being seen as shameful.

Even the first urge does not seem to be particularly scorned! Being a warrior is presented as a cause for bragging in the Shaded Citadel pearl, being comparable with being an artist and a fashion legend. The second urge, also does not seem to be suppressed. Multiple sources attribute some level of honour to parenthood! The aforementioned pearl also mentions Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel as being a "Mother, Father and Spouse" without any hint of shamefulness. Nineteen Spades, Endless Reflections expresses pride about having progeny, mentioning it alongside their owned land and esteem among their peers.

After some peer review, an esteemed friend has told me to add a section on purposed organisms as well! This is not so much my area, so I might be a bit off on some things.

As moon says, the majority of purposed organisms were tubes in boxes, and that the primal fauna of the world are almost entirely extinct. A lot of the fandom seems to ignore the first part, and i can't say I blame them, but the evolution of the creatures is so much weirder than people think.

Concept art for the creatures has this interesting quality to it, where the organic parts of the creatures have an almost... melty quality to them.

In the concept art, the flesh appears as if it's almost defying the machinery to form an animal shape. It's as if it's conquering its own artificiality the way the foliage grows over the (stone, brick and concrete, not mostly metal as some think!) ruins.

Of course, it's hard to really tell how much of this reflects the finalised concept, most of the integration is much smoother in the game, in line with a seamless kind of biomechanical design. There was always an intention of biomechanical strangeness, as shown in this screenshot of the devlog before the term "slugcat" even existed!

That said, the melty nature of the concept art shows a level of wild change inherent the biomechanical nature of the creatures, as if they truly are the result of these "tubes in boxes" almost revolting against their own boxes.

and considering centipedes... some tubes may not have had boxes in the first place!

[sillystimmings]

why it matters: people have to make the gifs, it’s a way to show respect and appreciation towards their efforts. we wouldn’t be able to create what we do without them!

okay but the original post was deleted. now what?: posts get deleted, blogs deactivate, it happens you’ll run into it eventually. cite it to the last post you can before you reach a dead end. why? again, it shows respect and that you tried. it’s also important to some people that they know where their getting their gifs from. it may not seem like it but you can tell a lot about a defunct blog from who used their gif.

but how do you do it?

it’s so simple and it takes like two seconds

1) find the gif you want

for this example i’ll be using these cats from @heartnosekid

2) save the one you want

you know how to save an image silly press and hold until options pop up and click save

3) copy the post link

one of the most vital steps! click this little arrow

and then press copy

now you have your link! but where does it go?

4) keep track of your links

i like to use notes app to make a list of my links. you can use any document app like google docs or even make a draft post on tumblr to keep them there. it doesn’t really matter how, just as long as you keep track of them

5) adding it to your post

so you’re ready to post, yippee!!! organize your gifs how you please and then add text to where you’ll link your sources. i like to use x’s like

x x x / x x x / x x x

with each section representing a row so it’s easy to get to the gif someone might want

but you can do whatever you want! get funky with it use emojis idk have fun

add your marker and then highlight it

while highlighted click the little paper clip icon

that’ll bring this pop up. paste your link in the box and then click add link

congratulations you’ve done it! that’s all there is to it. mistakes will happen. you might source something wrong or link to a defunct page but that’s alright! as a gif maker, seeing someone make a good attempt with a mistake is better than no attempt at all.

[ditizygirl]

Editblr is a breeding ground for idolatry, ableism, racism and so much more all for a community about putting images together.

I've been here for only a year but I feel like I've seen it all, and the excuses oh my god the excuses. You are all 15-19, you should not have the mental capacity of a 8 year old. Your common sense is non existent and almost all of you guys are so fucking stupid it's pissing me off more than any god can understand. You are old enough to have logical thinking skills, you may have a disorder and it may be a reason but not an excuse.

Alot of you have forgotten the saying "Think Before You Talk" and I've sure as hell done alot of thinking. This is my deep dive into editblr.

Ableism

Typing quirks are a way of personal expression but why do so much of you hate to add plain text. I can understand to extent because plain text hates my head because of how long it can be but I'm not gonna act like a little bitch about it. I'm gonna add my typing quirk or even fonts itself to it.

I'm gonna ask someone to help me, or to do it for me. Stopping making excuses for ableism. Alongside with the typing quirks, your psds are ugly and eyestrainy. Psds also fall under racism because I have no idea why you guys are ignoring the fact some make dark skin characters lighter but in the case of ableism most of them are really bright and makes it hard to see.

Orange and brown? Green and yellow? Blue and brown? Why are you putting colours that can be so much eyesore together? And won't even tag as eyestrain and when someone does ask you only do it for one post.

Romanticization

This one is weird as fuck and I see no one mentioning it. Editblr highkey has a ddlg problem, this "little girl" aesthetic you guys have going on borderlines ddlg alot and its icky. The baby talk typing quirk is disgusting, stop it.

I'm not one to judge how someone copes with their trauma but what I DO judge is how you act when majority says its uncomfortable. Now this section I'm a bit unsure how to phrase it, gotta love dyslexia, but that isn't going to stop me.

There's alot of very uncomfortable romanticization of stalking which I've seen so much of alongside abusive relationships and the justification of these things.

Racism

Really can't escape this one unfortunately. Many of you are like kpop idols, you're too dyslexic towards the difference between appropriation and appreciation. Incase you forgot let me remind you.

You can not gift japanese names. Gifting names is a native practice therefore you can only gift native names. Also I've noticed you weirdos befriending people just to use their cultural names. I can't even say it east asian fetishization because its only Japanese.

Also for the love of God can you guys stop saying nonmem and non women especially when referring to sexualities. It's not hard to simply say "queer attraction to women" and "queer attraction to men".

Coming back to the "gifting" names thing, I think it's interesting how all of you conveniently have a Japanese friend who "gifted" you the name of a cute pink anime girl. Maybe I'll do a post later on how much of a bad liar you guys are.

Closed symbols is also another big problem you all have. No matter how much times you're told you can't use something you always cry "but my friend from xyz culture said it was ok!" One person can't speak for a whole culture. You're nothing but a coloinzer in disguise hiding behind the idea of aesthetic. If you want to know if a symbol is closed just use this site.

Goddess Personas

Yea this one is getting a whole section of its own. Like any people I am uncomfortable with goddess personas, especially being someone with biblical sources. Now the idea that a teenager on the internet is making people call them a goddess is strange isn't it?

In my opinion, they're all annoying, copy and paste, and I think not a lot of people talk about how the really bad ones get. You all love to indulge them, make them think they have power over them. You put them on a pedestal and praise them and get surprised when it all goes to their head?

Stop giving 14 years old power, stop indulging in their habits and letting it go their head. Forcing people to refer to you as their goddess? Their Lord and saviour? Their idol? Someone they must listen to? It creates a power inbalance which always leads to the weirdest of manipulation. Also all the engagekiss copiers are so obvious why would you want to copy the identity of a groomer? It says alot of about yourself if that's what you think is ideal.

Callout Posts

Now, personally, I believe that the only reason a callout post happens is because someone was affected, does it not? Very rarely would a callout post would be a fake one, especially if someone has more then one. If you defend someone who has more than one call out post that's on you and you're gonna end up making one some day I can genuine you that. People don't make them for no reason.

This is all I have to say for now. I hope you guys really consider what I have written here, or not, considering the fact you guys have shown multiple times you lack reading comprehension

@starriesse @dollicous @doveinne @firstgf @kiochisato @lamboll @cherryshh @narcbf @lavendergalactic @npditary @sprinkleoverdose @necroangelz @eskeys

[noondefensesquad]

omg you saw it too!! Can you give us a detailed review too pretty please? But if you prefer not to, I totally understand!!

unfortunately my memory sucks and i saw it over a week ago at this point so i'll try my best 😅

i was sitting in row N so closer to the back and there were two people with ipads taking notes on things to change which was cool because im nosy. however, they didn't make a lot of notations and from what i could read, it mostly had to do with lighting so i don't expect much to change when i go see it again in a few weeks.

i love jamie's work and have seen his productions before but was still taken aback by the darkness at the beginning of the play. you can see tom on the screens (i loved the usage of cameras and screens so they could have full use of the theater) as he's backstage and the heavy breathing put me on edge because i was like

then tom sat at the front of the stage and cried and because he is also such a pretty crier and maybe that's my own weird kink i had the biggest smile on my face. however, the girls in front of me were about to cry with him 😂 tell me this didnt do something for you!

but when fran came out, the people around me sat up. she's phenomenal and i want more people to talk about her performance because she's the star of the show. the way she delivers her lines is so funny and they have a great balance of making it feel current while delivering the original iambic penameter.

then as soon as fran and tom came face to face, the audience audibly reacted. not loud enough to be distracting but enough that you know they were into it. i was in love

lots of shakespeare stuff happened, tom took off that sweatshirt and came out in that vest and multiple people gasped. you can see his abs through the shirt 🫠 and when the nurse squeezes his arm and basically says juliet i get it, that line got a huge laugh. my internal monologue was just

this is a married man this is a married man this is a married man

and then intermission came and i talked to the people around me and this was the conversation

fran is so pretty, talented, funny, amazing, we love her

tom's haircut

tom's arms 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

is zendaya the jealous type or would she say yes that's my man (i had to pretend to be very normal about this conversation and said absolutely the jealous type i have no sources 👀)

how do we get to the stagedoor in time to see them (the amount of texts i got about those videos because i am RIGHT THERE with the most in love expression on my face)

the chemistry is unbelievable and we didn't want the show to be over

somehow we made it to the end of the play and i'll be honest, the second half is my least favorite part of the play so it was also my least favorite to watch. i love how silly and romantic the first half can be and the second half is more doom and gloom. i will say, when this exchange happens

"will you speak well of him that killed your cousin?"

"shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?"

my friend and i audibly said "oop" and that got laughs in our section. the best thing about this play was their delivery and when i read r&j, i couldve never imagined how much fun it could be coming from jamie.

anyway, at the end, we rushed out to the stage door and it was insane to see how the street cleared when tom left. and security was the best. really such sweet guys and if you see them being mean to people, they spend the whole time giving instruction is the friendliest way so those people deserved it.

the we got to speak with fran who is the sweetest and signed my customized r&j book with her face on the cover and my programme

can't wait to go see it again in a few weeks. i wish i could have every second imprinted on my brain

[lady-harrowhark]

hello, can you explain to me in more clarity your “waxen” theory regarding Ianthe? I’m not picking up on what this implies but it’s making my brain itch.

Sort of! Totally fair question, I just don't have a lot of clarity myself in that I don't have a fully formed theory lol. There's definitely some links and parallels in verbiage that are pinging on my radar, so I do think something's funky, but I wouldn't say I'm fully on board with this yet. I'm just playing in the sandbox Tamsyn has provided us, tossing out ideas and thinking out loud. But I can go into some more detail, and add some more thoughts that have occurred to me since I posted that last night.

(Here's a link to the post in question, for context)

Anyway! So let's first lay out all the times we get someone described as some type of wax. At various points in HtN, we get the descriptions "a shoddy wax cast of some more beautiful sculpture," a "wax figure in a pink dolly dress," a "wax figure in pale purple chiffon," and "waxen face" for Ianthe. We also see that descriptor used a few other times for other people throughout the series. In GtN, Harrow's parents' bodies are called "waxy" and the first introduction of Protesilaus (as the beguiling corpse) says he was "waxen looking in the sunlight." In NtN, Kiriona's skin is said to have a "weird, waxy quality," then Naberius's skin is called "waxen" when they first meet up with Ianthe, and again a few pages later it again references the "waxen, handsome face". What I'm getting at here is that every time this sort of description is deployed, it's in reference to a dead body that's been preserved, manipulated, and is essentially masquerading as a living person... except for Ianthe.

We also know there are a multitude of times that she's described as looking like a poor copy of Coronabeth. There's that "shoddy wax cast of some more beautiful sculpture" line, her first introduction calls her a "starved shadow" of her sister ("or the first an illuminated reflection [of Ianthe]," and actually, off the top of my head I don't know that we ever see their descriptions framed that way again... I'd have to investigate this more later, but this might be the only time that Corona is described as a "better" version of Ianthe, rather than Ianthe being a "worse" version of Corona, which is interesting), there's a point where it says "The second twin was as though the first had been taken to pieces and put back together without any genius. She wore a robe of the same cloth and colour, but on her it was a beautiful shroud on a mummy," etc etc etc. I know there's more, but I'm too lazy to go pull the rest of the quotes and you get the picture by this point I'm sure. So nearly all of these situate her, at least visually, as a copy or approximation of Coronabeth, and one that doesn't quite live up to original at that.

So now let's pick apart this snippet of conversation we overhear between Silas and Ianthe at Magnus and Abigail's dinner party a bit. Ianthe says she was born via "surgical means," which I'm assuming is referring to a C-section delivery (or whatever the necromantic equivalent is) and notes that Corona is a few minutes older. Silas seems surprised (or perhaps concerned?) that they "risked intervention" and Ianthe says Corona had "removed [her] source of oxygen". At this point Silas says, "A wasted opportunity, I'd think." I had always taken this for him just being a dick and implying he wished she'd died in the womb, but coming back to it with this new angle... well. She says "Corona's birth put my survivability somewhere around definite nil." And I'm wondering if that doesn't tie to Harrow's comment about infant deaths generating "enough thanergy to take out the entire planet." Basically, could Silas have been implying that the Tridentarii's parents wasted an opportunity to use the thanergy from baby Ianthe's death to power up Corona?

Harrow says that twins are an ill omen, but the text hasn't come back to that as of yet. Given the difficulty necromancers experience with pregnancy, I'd imagine twins would could be especially dangerous and that in and of itself could be considered an ill omen. Ianthe's comments certainly suggest that their mother carried the pregnancy, although I don't think we know for certain whether she was a necromancer. I am so intensely curious about the Tridentarii's childhood and their parents; we get so many gestures towards some really twisted family dynamics, but very little in the way of concrete explanations. Particularly relevant here, I'd love to know more about their father wanting a "matched set" and how that came about. Did they intentionally plan for twins from the start? Was it only once they knew they were having twins that that became a factor? What's the significance there?

Outside of those "waxy" descriptors, Ianthe tends to be described as much more sickly looking than even other necromancers. We know that necromancers on the whole tend towards a phenotype of physical weakness, but even still, there's an emphasis on this with Ianthe beyond that. This might be due in part to narrator bias (coughGideoncough) or the direct juxtaposition between her and Coronabeth's vivaciousness, but what really jumps out at me as contributing to this effect is how frequently she's described as being colorless, pale, washed out, bloodless, pallid, anemic, etc etc etc. It very much makes me think of the way the color drains away from Colum (and even the rest of the room and the others in it) when Silas is siphoning. Silas himself is also often described as colorless ("mayonnaise uncle," "milk man") but not so much in a way that implies frailty as much as I read it as implying a stark coldness, in line with the very black-and-white moral authority he presumes to wield, a purported "purity", much different than Ianthe's colorlessness. With Ianthe, you get a sense that her palette ought to have been or perhaps was closer to Corona's, but the color's been drained away; where Corona's hair is described as golden, Ianthe's is "canned butter", for example. Almost like the life's been siphoned out, one might say.

So to kind of circle back around, do I actually think Ianthe is dead or a corpse like the other "wax" figures we've seen? Nah. Between Harrow and Palamedes, and especially Palamedes's medical necromancy, I think we would have heard about it by now if that were the case. But I do think it's entirely plausible that she's had a bit of a brush with death and that perhaps she's never quite fully come back from, and I do think she's being intentionally positioned as somewhat adjacent to death. If their parents were wanting twins from the outset, perhaps they used necromantic means to encourage the conception. Or if the pregnancy was as high-risk as I suspect it was, perhaps she'd died or nearly died at birth and been resuscitated. Their parents may have gone to extremes to keep her alive, to maintain their matched set. Given the themes of this series, I do feel it's necessary to draw a distinction between "resuscitation" and "resurrection" although they are curiously adjacent to one another. For all the text has grappled with dying and staying dead, dying and coming back, dying and choosing whether or not to return... we haven't touched on what something like a "near death experience" would look like. I'd imagine having that sort of experience, even at an incredibly young age, might lead one to be fascinated with, to use Ianthe's own words, "the place between death and life... the place between release and disappearance."

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

So, controversial topic. taking in count that in a month, the webcomic "scarlet lady" is gonna end ¿what are your feelings about it?

I know that there's people out there that don't like it for the chloe salt, but i have to admit that the damnation that chloe went through, at least for me, gave her more agency than canon, for the fact that it wasn't manipulated by outside forces like canon did, it gave her the right to choose to be better or worse.

Another great element is that it does what canon refused to do: five back Adrian his agency by letting him vent his frustrations AND let him realize that his father is a bastard.

If you don't agree, that's more than excellent, i want to know your take in this topic, that being positive or negative 😄👍

My friend, you are talking to a big Scarlet Lady fan, so I'm happy to give my thoughts! Get ready for some gushing and in-depth discussion of the adaptation process. That's really what all fanfiction is, but Scarlet Lady is more of an adaptation than most since it's a true canon rewrite that often requires you to know canon to fully appreciate its jokes and meta commentary.

Before we get into it, I want to give a link to the comic for those who haven't read it. The artist/writer is @zoe-oneesama and this is page one of the comic. I'd follow the comic link if you haven't read it as the comic is nearing its end, so going straight to Zoe's page will spoil you on elements of ending.

General Thoughts on Adaptation

Adaptation is an art, not a science. There are things that are objective elements of a story. Things you really cannot change if you want people to feel like you're telling an adaptation of a given tale. But there are also plenty of elements that are more subjective. Things some people might consider vital, but that aren't truly necessary to stay true to the story's core. (Yes, the character core thing applies to stories too!)

For example, to be a Cinderella adaptation, you need to have some sort of big reveal moment where "the prince" finds Cinderella, but that moment doesn't need to involve a slipper and the prince doesn't need to be an actual prince. My favorite modern Cinderella adaptation is A Cinderella Story: Once Upon a Song and it twists both of those elements while keeping the major story beats in place, making it fully deserving of the Cinderella label while also being its own unique story that isn't a straight retelling, it's an adaptation.

I bring all this up because, as readers of this blog may have already guessed, Scarlet Lady does a lot of things that I personally would not do when adapting Miraculous. A big one being that I prefer a more complex take on Gabriel, but that's simply a matter of preference. A complex Gabriel is not a requirement for adapting Miraculous. Complex Gabriel vs comedic villain Gabriel is just a choice you have to make when it comes to adapting canon because canon is such a mess that both options have straight up backing in the source text. Even if they didn't, Gabriel's core role - villain - is one that leaves you a lot of room for interpretation based on other factors that we'll talk about in a second.

I'll close off this section with this: having read all of Scarlet Lady, I'll be so bold as to say that Zoe and I almost perfectly align when it comes to identifying the flaws in Miraculous because I've agreed with pretty much every change she's made. She did a fantastic job staying true to the core of canon while also telling the story she wanted to tell. It's not the way I'd redo canon, but it doesn't need to be for me to call it a fantastic story. Plus a lot of the different choices I'd make come down to narrative style and tone.

Narrative Style and Tone

I'm a novelist at heart, which means that I favor serialized storytelling. For those who don't know that word, it means stories that are one coherent whole just broken into chunks. Stories where the order matters. You can't start watching at a random episode, you have to start at the beginning. And skipping an episode usually means that you'll have no idea what's going on.

Miraculous is not a serialized show. It's primarily an episodic show, a word that means that episode order doesn't matter. Every installment stands alone.

Obviously Miraculous isn't completely episodic, but that's fine. Purely episodic narratives are rare these days. Most stories have at least minor serialized elements even if those elements are often ignored for multiple episodes at a time. This is where both Miraculous and Scarlet Lady fall. They're mostly episodic stories with serialized elements popping up every now and then.

Miraculous does this element poorly because it acts like it's a purely episodic show and then takes that to an absurd extreme. Rules, characters, and lore can never be counted on to stay the same from episode to episode even though that's not actually how episodic stories work. Scarlet Lady doesn't make this mistake. It understands that episodic narratives should have STORIES that stand alone, but that the WORLD the stories take place in must stay consistent.

Now that we've gone over the basic format stuff, let's talk about tone.

Generally speaking, tone is the vibe of your story. It can be serious, silly, dramatic, and so on. One of Miraculous' biggest flaws is that its tone is all over the place. It's a silly romcom that brings in serious topics in serious ways and then handles them with all the grace of a hippo performing ballet in a china shop because of course it does! Those topics are horribly suited to the show's overall tone so it has no way to properly address them.

This is one of the many things I love about Scarlet Lady. It takes the show's absurdist tone and honors it. That's why Zoe's version of Gabriel works so well! He's a silly cartoony villain in a silly cartoony comic as he should be. It's also why my versions of Gabriel tend to be more complex. More serious serialized narratives are where more serious complex villains thrive. Neither option is better than the other, it all comes down to how you're adapting the original work. Zoe's choices are perfect for her version's style and tone. If mine are even close to that good for my preferred style and tone, then I'll be a happy author.

Narrative Weight & The Chloe Thing

This is getting long, so I'll end with a note on Chloe since you brought her up as it's another great example of the fact that there are very few choices that are inherently right or wrong when it comes to adaptation.

I don't know if I'd say that I'm a Chloe fan, but I certainly don't hate her. I also love what Zoe did with the character! It's a prime example of a thing that I've talked about before: the issue with Chloe is not a lack of redemption. The issue is that Chloe was given too much narrative weight to be what canon made her.

Quick definition: narrative weight is the importance a narrative places on a person, event, thing, etc. The more time you dedicate to an element of your narrative, the more weight that element has in the eyes of your audience. The more they expect the element to matter. The way that you develop the element will also shape audience expectations.

In the context of canon, Chloe has more development than almost any other side character. We know more about her family, her childhood, her personality, and so on. This was an absurd choice for canon to make because Chloe is not actually important to the story they told. You could pull her out of canon and almost nothing would change. Gabriel can make akumas do whatever he wants so, lore wise, he didn't need Miracle Queen. In fact, he arguably shouldn't have made Miracle Queen. He could have just taken the miracle box and jumped right into the plot of season five. Similarly, Chloe being mayor was an absurd one-note moment that's easily replaced with something more logical.

Because of this, there are a lot of things you can do when adapting Chloe. Everything from turning her back into a one-dimensional mean girl to redeeming her to what Zoe did: take Chloe's narrative weight and petty brat behavior and lean into both to make Chloe a main antagonist while also acknowledging the fact that Chloe is a messed up teenage girl who needs some serious help. I'm super excited to see the end of Chloe's arc in Scarlet Lady as I think it's going to be one of my favorites in the fandom. That is admittedly not a high bar as I'm very picky when it comes to Chloe content. I think most of it falls flat because most of it fails to let Chloe hit some sort of rock bottom when she absolutely needs to if you want to do anything interesting with her. She's not the kind of person who will easily change or see the error of her ways.

Conclusion

Scarlet Lady is a fantastic adaption of Miraculous and Zoe is a fantastic and funny adapter. The comic might not be to your tastes - and that's fine, nothing has universal appeal - but it's still a great example of how to honor source material while doing your own thing with it, which is a true skill. One of the problems with many modern retellings and reboots is that the people running the show don't understand how to adapt a narrative. They take far too much creative freedom and end up with something that doesn't feel anything like the source.

If I found out that Zoe somehow got hired to adapt something I love, then I wouldn't have any concerns. I'd have no idea what she'd do with it, but I'd be confident that it wouldn't spit in the face of the thing I love. I'd personally read a hundred Miraculous re-imaginings with her at the helm.

[what-even-is-thiss]

Since people ask me a lot how to research this or that type of mythology or religion I'll just tell you how I go about researching mythology and religion I'm not familiar with in general.

Keep in mind I'm not an expert. I'm just a guy who reads a lot about mythology.

So first, know what you're looking for. What culture's belief system are we looking at? Because you can't just look at a broad region. If you wanna know about "African" or "Asian" mythology generally that will not help you. You need to be looking at something specific. A specific group or religion.

So let's say, as an example, you want to research the stories and beliefs and history of Tibetan Buddhism. Because that's something I'm looking into researching right now, so I'll take you through my process of getting started on it.

So the first thing I do is... google Tibetan Buddhism. Now this is a still-living religion that has continuously been practiced since it's founding, so I scroll past the Wikipedia and Encyclopedia Britannica entries until I find something by the people currently practicing it. In this case, I found an article by the Sakya Monastery in Seattle that gives a basic overview of their beliefs and different types of the religion that is currently practiced. This is what I'm looking for. I want to give myself a fairly good foundation of understanding of what's going on here before I start digging past the surface.

After this, I look for more articles and videos by monasteries explaining the basics. If this were from a religion that is either dead or has not been practiced continually since its founding I would skip all this and just go to the next step. Watching YouTube videos made by outsiders.

So after I give myself an idea of how people who practice the religion present themselves, I go searching on YouTube for overviews. I'm specifically interested in videos made by people that regularly make videos about this kind of thing and take it seriously. Sometimes this can take some digging. Something to look for is people who cite their sources, people who present the facts without outward judgement, and people who acknowledge their own biases while they explain these things.

A lot of these videos often give me ideas for books and primary sources to start referencing. With Tibetan Buddhism there's a lot of the regular Buddhism texts, along with a few others. I'm not looking to become an expert in this religion or convert to it, so I'll settle for reading about these books. I'm fairly familiar with Zen Buddhism specifically and the history of Buddhism more generally so this helps me a teeny bit here but Tibetan Buddhism is very specifically its own thing so I start googling specific stories and types of practices mentioned in the videos and articles I've been using.

Once I have been reading things from various different perspectives and feel comfortable enough to the point where I feel like I could explain the basics to someone who knows nothing about the mythology or belief system, this is the point where I start looking into books. This is also the part where I actually start combing through various Wikipedia articles, following chains and looking through reference sections to see if there's any good sources I should be digging into.

When I look to buy or borrow books, it depends on how in-depth I want to go. As is, I'm probably gonna buy a couple of different books on a beginners guide to Tibetan Buddhism and perhaps something on the history of it. With each book I consider I look up the author. Are they an expert in this subject? Do they practice this religion? Would I rather buy a book by someone that follows the religion or someone that's a scholar of it? Because you will get very different results depending on who is writing it. Things written for spiritual purposes are very different from purely educational books, so what do you want to get out of this research? Are you just looking for entertainment? Do you just want to be more knowledgeable about the world in general? Does someone you love find importance in this subject? Are you doing research for a project? Are you looking to incorporate aspects of this religion into your own life? The types of books you buy or borrow will heavily depend on your intentions and you should be careful about actually reading the book descriptions and reading the backgrounds of the authors to make sure you're buying the correct one for what you're hoping to get out of this.

My purpose in this case is simply feeding my own curiosity, so I'm leaning towards buying Essential Tibetan Buddhism by Robert A. F. Thurman. It's a bit old but it's written by someone that's a professor of Tibetan studies and has translations of some essential texts in it, so it seems like a good starting point for me, and possibly also an ending point. Because like I said, this is mostly about my own curiosity.

If I wanted to dig further I'd probably start looking into the reference sections of various books for other things to read, start digging into lists of primary sources, possibly find free to watch lectures online by people with doctorates in this sort of thing, and read into primary sources I find referenced in the various secondary sources I've been consulting up to this point.

Basically, start on the surface and follow the rabbithole down. And always remember that the perspectives of people who study something in a secular way for a living and people who actively practice a religion will be different from each other. Pick and choose what sources you use depending on what your intentions are. Reading something about Orphic hymns for scholarly reasons or for other research purposes and reading Orphic hymns because you're a Hellenistic pagan who wants to incorporate them into your personal practice are two extremely different things. Both are valid reasons to buy a book on Orphic hymns but the two books that the two hypothetical people here would buy are very very different from each other.

Good luck out there and always be respectful while you're poking around.

[ar3s-r4t-qu33n]

Johnny's Bluffing

CW for discussion of potential sexual assault, toxic/unhealthy relationships, stalking, obsession, and, of course, murder and cannibalism. Nothing like, too crazy I think? But especially this one section on sexual assault, it's brief but separated out so it's quite easy to skip if that makes folks uncomfortable.

Hi I am currently in a really bad insomnia cycle and as such haven't slept so I'm sure I'm gonna have missed something that immediately prove me wrong, but here we go:

I don't think that certain members of the Family know that Maria is alive, and especially Nancy. This theory sort of delves into a lot of different stuff, I wrote and rewrote this a fair bit and idk, this is what I ended up with. It's a lot of my personal interpretation of both the written text and the way lines are delivered, as well as my own analyses on characters and how I personally think the timeline of events went (Danny and Virginia dying before the gang even show up in Newt, Maria being the 'Definitive Final Girl' and surviving to the very end, but never getting to escape the Slaughters/Johnny. That isn't to say that she dies, but Sally is the first and only person to escape until Stretch if she is canon to this timeline now that Choptop is on his way) so idk, I hope you like what I've been thinking about I guess?

Nancy and Drayton both have several voice lines that refer to Maria being in the past tense. So does Johnny, but my theory here is that he is playing into this line of thought so they don’t realise that he is still keeping her.

I will source my way of hearing all of the voice lines at the end.

Starting with Nancy, she has several;

‘It didn’t have to be this way, you know? You just had to come looking for that floosy of yours, didn’t you?’

‘Your little friend had it coming. Looking at my Johnny that way- he’s a sweet boy!’

‘You ever hear the saying murder starts in the heart? … I think my Johnny liked that girl…’

The first two are obviously extremely defensive over Johnny and are meant to taunt the other Victims over Maria’s ‘death’. The last one, however, feels almost like a realisation. This line has confused me for a long time, because it sounds like two different once spliced together, but they are, in fact, connected. This is the only time that Nancy ever speaks about Maria in any other way than pure disgust and defensiveness. Another interesting thing about Nancy is that she does not hate her husbands. She murdered all three of them, none of them were able to give her a baby of her own, and yet she defends them from Sissy, she keeps them all in her basement man cave, and even when talking to Hands, she’s apologetic about Harold to him. She still holds a fondness for them, it seems, and I feel like maybe this is what makes her finally realise that Johnny actually, truly loves Maria. For Nancy, she loves people to death, and that type of love extends to Johnny, too. Sure, he’s still alive, and could easily kill her now, but she permanently scarred his face when he tried to leave her. I don’t believe that Nancy isn’t above murdering Johnny to keep him with her, and I think this admittance leads to her realising that Johnny actually did love Maria. Of course, she can’t say ‘love’, that’s a bit too far, but at the very least, she will acknowledge that he likes her, and these days, Johnny doesn’t seem to like anyone, not even her. It’s also interesting to note that she says this after losing sight of a victim she was chasing. She says herself that she hasn’t hunted like this in a while, it seems as if physically chasing people down to kill them is making her reminisce on her feelings about murder and love in a way.

But all of that to say, she believes Maria is dead. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, she’s dead now, and maybe she plans to talk to Johnny about it later, maybe not apologise, but try and make it easier on him now that she’s realised just how much she meant to him.

Then we’ve got Cookie.

‘Look, I’m sorry about your friend… but… I’m afraid you done landed square dab in the shithouse!’

‘We didn’t have much choice! Couldn’t let Johnny spring no lovechild around here. It ain’t personal! Now get back here!’

There is obviously a lot less here, the former being Cook or Drayton’s more humble, car salesman type approach to everything, apologising sincerely that their friend had to die… but now so do they, so how sorry can he be, really?

The second is far more interesting. I’m still sort of working out the kinks with what I think on all this, but it implies not only that the whole family knew about Johnny’s feelings for Maria, but that there was a worry about something more than just his feelings. A genuine attachment, the possibility for a child.

Now, one thing I wanna throw in real quick is that a lot of people think Johnny assaulted Maria once he kidnapped her. And I personally don’t think that that is true. And it’s more than just ‘noooo not my pookie he would never!’, I feel as though Johnny’s feelings for Maria are beyond sexual, or beyond purely sexual. I’m not gonna get super into it because I wanna make a whole post about just their relationship, but in short, Johnny knows he’s hot shit. He knows women love him and men do too, and he uses that all the time to lure people to their deaths. Maybe he fucks them first, then kills them, who knows. But this is a man who is used to being sexualised and uses it to his advantage, like a reverse femme fatale, almost. A lot of his lines are sexually charged and he speaks seductively low at times, even flirting on the odd occasion. However, Maria is in love with Danny and is a sweet girl in the seventies. There is no way she’s heading off to knock boots with the pretty boy at the bar no matter how charming, persistent, helpful… always somehow exactly where she needs him to be… is. She’s kind, she’s sweet, she brings out the best in people, we know this about her. And when there’s no sex, when it’s not about fucking them and killing them… Johnny has no choice but to fall completely head over heels for her. It’s no surprise that the day she’s heading out of town, maybe to go back to see her boyfriend, that is when her car breaks down. Johnny’s oil stained gloves, the fact that he’s designed to look like he helps at a gas station, his friendship with Uncle Hands, the fact he lives in a junk yard? This man knows mechanics. He knows cars. And he is definitely not above tampering with an already busted old car to ensure it stops before she can get away from him. It’s just his luck that she happens to break down by his family’s land. All this to say, I don’t think Johnny assaults Maria once he has her. Not only because that would be a lot, like, in general, for this game to go from goofy cannibals to sexual assault by one of the game’s most beloved characters to one of the game’s most beloved characters, but because I don’t think Johnny is the type. He’s pretty and charming enough that people want him, he doesn’t have to take it, he earns it. And he wants Maria to give it to him, for him to earn it because she wants him. He likely spends his time down there with her trying to get her to fall for him and forget about Danny. He wants her to want him. Or at least, this is my personal interpretation.

Maybe she does begin to fall or maybe Drayton’s complete lack of any and all sexual knowledge just makes him think they’re already going to pound town, but he was worried about a baby. That’s something I wanna explore in the future, why he’s so worried about Johnny and Maria having a baby, but moving on; again, Drayton is seemingly fully convinced that Maria is dead.

For Johnny I wanna take his lines one at a time, but it is important to note that I think some of these lines are referring to someone else and not Maria, but also some of these are in present tense, he either slips up or sometimes on purpose mentions things that could hint to her being alive to the Victims.

‘You wanna know how your friend died!? … I can show you!’

‘Your little friend put up a better fight than this… come on! Make it interesting, will you!?”

Pure just bluffing to get them angry and scared. It could also be referring to Danny but more on that a different time.

‘That’s what I get for taking it easy on them. Time for them to join that little friend of theirs…’

‘You’re gonna look real nice next to that friend of yours…’

Again, if my belief that Danny not only went to Nancy’s a lot earlier than the others is true and that he has been dead for a good few days before the gang shows up, then this is absolutely about him, not Maria.

‘You kinda remind me of your little friend’

To Ana about Maria, obviously, and comes across as quite flirtatious. He’s figured out that not only does Maria have a sister (if she never told him), but that Ana has no intentions of leaving there without her. I interpret this as Johnny taunting her, making her his new priority to get rid of. I said he loved Maria, I never said he loved her in a healthy way, alight? This is The Texas Chain Saw Massacre, not the Notebook (never seen that movie)

‘You should have never came here looking for that girl!’

I don’t need to explain. Pure possessive Johnny in his raw form.

And finally, the infamous;

‘You know… I was actually kinda fond of that girl, I-I didn’t really wanna hurt her… but… family first, you know?’

Johnny is an agitator. Almost all of his lines are trying to fuck with the victims, playing with his food. Egging them on to hit him, teasing them about being too slow, the way he calls after them as he hunts them down, he wants to see them upset and charged, he wants a good fight, he wants to feel something. The main part of this line is just that, I think; he wants them to believe that even though he cared about Maria, he fucking killed her. He wants them to be angry, to fight him, to hurt him. The end is guilty. Incredibly guilty sounding, and I don’t think that’s out of a guilt for killing her, since… well, Maria is alive and kicking. But more a guilt about his family in general. ‘Family first, you know?’ he’s almost saying it so himself, as if that’s what he should think, what he should be doing. But he is actively betraying them and knows that once everything blows over, he’s going to keep on betraying them for every day he keeps Maria alive. And he also knows that even if he feels all of this guilt, he will do it anyway because he loves her, and he can’t let his family have her. She is the only person who is truly his, who represents what life could have given him. I have another analysis I made on TikTok that I’ll repost here soon, but it essentially goes like this; Johnny and Danny really aren’t too different. Scrappy orphans who are good with mechanics. Except Danny got to go to college, travel freely, meet the girl of his dreams, and Johnny is forced to be someone he doesn’t want to be. He isn’t not a killer, but he also could have not been a killer. Maria is everything he has not been allowed to have; naivety, kindness, softness. And now that he has her, and once everyone else is out of the way, he has no intentions of letting that go.

So he is pretending that she is dead. And for now, it is working. I have a feeling in the canon story of the game, the victims stumble upon her somewhere once they’ve already caused enough trouble for the family, and then all bets are off. Once they find out she’s still alive, it’s a new game for Johnny, a choice; does he kill her, make his mother proud and live the only life he knows because even if he leaves, he knows he can’t be any better? Or does he take her away and try, try to be a different man in the softness of her love?

Rush Week could be the result of either of those. Either he kills her, and becomes an even worse, even colder killer, now able to handle a situation like in the game completely on his own, or he takes her away to start a new life and just couldn’t stop the urges; the Bad Man needs to feed. He stays late after work or pretends he has a night shift and gets his fill on blood and chaos before stumbling home, washing it all off, and returning to Maria’s (definitely traumatised at this point from seeing her friends and sister murdered (don’t worry about Danny I’ve got thoughts on him shhh) in front of her and ‘rescued’ by Johnny) arms.

That was a lot... Please tell me what y'all think on this, again, a lot of my personal interpretation on a lot of things, but isn't that what art is for?

Sources for the voice lines:

Texas Chain Saw Massacre Game - Johnny All Voice Lines (youtube.com)

Texas Chain Saw Massacre Game - Black Nancy All Voice Lines - YouTube

Texas Chain Saw Massacre Game - Johnny All Voice Lines (youtube.com)

Promised I'd tag @bloodfeeder when I finished this so here ya go!! :)