#she's deaf also

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024

July 6th Prompt: Dizzy

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 7

@steddie-week

Steve stands up, and that’s where it all goes wrong.

His intent was to grab more drinks from the fridge, but when he stood, he blinked a few times. “Whoa,” he murmurs.

“Steve?” Robin asks. She sounds like she’s at the end of a long tunnel.

“Steve?” Eddie asks. He sounds closer, but not as close as he should.

“‘M fine,” he says, “jus’ dizzy.”

Then he’s waking up in the hospital. “What,” he asks, then doesn’t complete the thought because Robin and Eddie are both standing over him, one on each side, holding each of his hands, and he’d feel so much love if he could feel anything besides general panic because- “I can’t hear you,” he says, breathing picking up. “I can’t- please, I- I need-”

Eddie shuts up, staring at him with wide eyes, and after a second of hesitation, places Steve’s hand, palm down, on his chest. He takes deep, purposeful breaths, and Steve can feel his hand moving, feel the breaths, feel his heartbeat-

He takes a breath. Another. Another. By that time, Nancy had gotten a doctor.

Later, he’ll learn this is something they’d been watching for, but couldn’t be sure of until he woke up. Later, he’ll learn that Eddie lays awake at night, sometimes, hearing the sound Robin makes.

All he knows right now is how to keep breathing, how to keep holding Robin’s hand, how to believe he’ll be okay, because he has to.

He has to.

He stays with Eddie upon his release, because they’re together most days anyways, and it’s a certain kind of torture on Steve’s heart because Eddie’s started carrying around a notebook and a pen just to write to Steve whatever he was gonna say, and Steve doesn’t think he could love another person more than he did, but here’s the proof, apparently.

They’re sharing a bed, because Wayne had previously called their couch “older than Jesus,” and Steve lasted for all of an hour on it before slipping into Eddie’s room.

The good thing about sharing a room is it helps curb the nightmares for a time.

Eventually, though, they come back with a vengeance.

Steve’s laying in bed, like he does every night, when he rolls over to face Eddie. “Eddie?” He asks. Eddie’s always last to sleep, so Steve’s not hesitant about asking, except Eddie doesn’t answer.

“Eddie?” He asks again, jostling Eddie’s shoulder a bit.

Suddenly he shoots up in the air, and Steve bites back a yell.

Suddenly there’s a voice that sounds like it’s coming from everywhere and nowhere, reverberating off the corners of the room, echoing louder and louder. You took everything from me. Eddie’s arms snap, and Steve yells, scrambles up, music, except what’s his favorite song—that puppet one, metal, come on brain, think—but there’s nothing here but country, bluegrass, stuff Wayne likes, and Steve turns to watch the blood drain from Eddie’s face as another gristly crunch echoes, louder than anything so far. So I’ll take everything from you!

Something reaches out for him, grabs his shoulder, and he yells, twists around, pushes away, hard enough he falls on the ground. He opens his eyes to see Eddie on his bed, Steve sitting just off it, eyes wide and hand reaching to help, stalled halfway. Illuminated by the lamp, too, which wasn’t on half a second ago.

Steve blinks at him, looks at the room. No floating Eddie in the middle of it.

“Dream?” He asks. Eddie nods. He stifles the sob and practically launches himself onto the bed, into Eddie’s arms, lets himself shake apart because he can.

Eventually he feels reverberating in Eddie’s chest that he knows means words, means speaking, so he looks up at Eddie, who’s looking at the door.

He turns to look, too, and sees Wayne. “S-sorry,” he tries, still sniffling.

Wayne shakes his head at him, walks into the room, sits on the edge of the bed. Offers his arms out in a hug.

Steve thought he was done crying. Trust Wayne to prove him wrong, because he’s tearing up all over again as he leans into Wayne.

His new position means he can see Eddie, who points at him, makes a talking motion with his hand, then points at himself and Wayne. Steve frowns. “You… want me to tell you?”

Eddie points at Steve again, insistently, and Steve understands: your choice.

“I can,” he agrees. “We were in bed and I was tryin’a talk to you, but you didn’t answer, and I kept trying to get your attention, but suddenly you- you were up in the air, and your arms and legs broke, and a voice—it was Vecna, I didn’t recognize it in the dream—said I’d taken everything from him so he was gonna take everything from me. And I was trying to find music, but I couldn’t remember the name of your favorite song, and the only stuff in here was Wayne’s stuff, country and bluegrass and stuff like that, and…” he sighs out a broken sob. “I couldn’t save you.”

Eddie reaches for his hand, but suddenly that’s not enough, he needs to be able to feel his heartbeat, have his breathing move Steve’s hand, so he tips over into Eddie again, gets his hand on his chest and his face in the side of his neck.

Eddie says something, but before Steve can move Wayne’s got a comforting hand on his back. He removes it after a minute, and Steve can feel the shift in the bed of him getting up, but before he can mourn the loss, Eddie’s got his arms wrapped around Steve as he carefully lowers them back down. He rubs a hand up and down Steve’s spine, slips the other into Steve’s hair.

Steve falls asleep like that.

He wakes up in almost the same position. He tries to apologize, but Eddie waves him off, hands him some clothes and points to the bathroom before pointing to himself and miming cooking.

Steve’s heart clenches at the thought. “Okay,” he whispers.

Robin comes over later, and they sit on the front steps as he recounts what had happened. “He’s just so sweet,” he sighs. “And I’m an idiot who’s letting my heart get involved.”

Robin wraps an arm around his shoulders and kisses his temple. It doesn’t help as much as he’d hoped it would, but he appreciates the gesture anyways.

Later she leaves, and Eddie pulls out his dedicated Steve Notebook.

I’ve got a friend in Indy who knows sign language. I could give her a call, if you want? He writes, and again Steve’s all but overcome with love for this man.

Instead of anything he wants to do, he just nods. Eddie grins and hops up to use the phone.

He’s back in a couple of minutes, collapses onto the couch with the notebook before furiously scribbling and handing it to Steve.

I spoke to my friend. She says sorry and it sucks, first of all. Steve snorts and nods. She’s willing to talk to you, get you started, maybe even get you some books. Does tomorrow work?

Steve gapes up at Eddie. “Tomorrow?”

Eddie nods and grins, then points at Steve in a gesture Steve knows has come to mean you decide.

“That would be great,” he says. “Seriously, I- thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie waves him off, but Steve can see the happy little blush on his cheeks.

They head out the next day. It’s probably twenty minutes into the drive, and even with Eddie sitting next to him in the driver’s seat, it feels lonely. He never realized how much he’d miss the sound of tires on asphalt. He wasn’t ever truly into music, like Eddie is, but he misses the radio. He misses the wind rushing past, the silence that’s possible to share when both people can hear-

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Eddie’s pulled over, a hand on his cheek and a concerned expression on his face. “Sorry,” he tries. Eddie shakes his head, presses his palm more firmly to Steve’s cheek. “Fuck,” he mutters. “‘S stupid. Just… felt alone. I dunno. There’s, like, a million little things you hear every day that you don’t think about, like the way your hands tap the steering wheel when you turn, or the way your clothes shift and rub against each other, and it’s all silent now, and there’s not even music, and-” he takes a deep, shaky breath. Lets it out as evenly as he can. “I just… felt really alone all of a sudden.”

Eddie brushes his thumb along Steve’s cheekbone as he thinks. Suddenly, he grins and moves his hand, shoving a tape into the deck and cranking the sound. He demonstratively puts his hand on the door. Steve laughs and does the same, gasping when he feels the vibrations of the song move through him. He can’t tell notes, but it’s something, and then Eddie carefully reaches for his hand, keeps his grip relaxed until Steve smiles at him and tightens his own fingers around Eddie’s. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Eddie smiles, nods, and gets back on the road.

They arrive at his friend’s apartment in no time, and Steve would be jealous at the length of the hug if Eddie didn’t immediately step back to grab Steve’s hand again. Based on his hand motions, he’s introducing Steve.

She asks Eddie something, and he turns bright red, pulling a strand of hair across his face as he glances at Steve before looking back at her and answering.

She invites them in, scribbles on a little chalkboard, and hands it to Steve with a smile. Hi, Steve! My name is Nicole. It’s nice to meet you.

He grins up at her. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

She takes the chalkboard back, scribbles something else. Eddie tells me you recently lost your hearing. Do you mind me asking about that?

“Not at all,” Steve says, then frowns, somehow just now realizing he doesn’t know the full extent of what happened. “Honestly, all I know is I stood up and got really dizzy, and then I was waking up in the hospital.” He shrugs. “I’ve had a couple of pretty bad concussions, and I guess whatever made me pass out also just… took my hearing.” He shrugs.

Eddie shakes his head, grabs for the chalkboard. Almost. He bites his lip. You passed out, and I wasn’t fast enough. You hit your head on the floor. He looks away, takes a deep breath. I’m sorry.

“That is not your fault, Eds,” Steve tells him firmly. Eddie won’t look him in the eyes, so Steve grabs his chin. “Hey, look at me. Not your fault. I don’t blame you. Okay?”

Eddie shrugs, pointing to himself with a self-deprecating smile, and Steve knows what he’s trying to say. I do.

“Well I don’t,” Steve says. “But if- if you need to hear it. I forgive you, okay?”

Eddie nods, eyes big and wet, and Steve pulls him into a hug.

Eddie suddenly laughs, pulling away to wipe his eyes before saying something to Nicole.

Right. They’re not alone. “Sorry,” he tells her, but she waves him off, handing over the chalkboard again. I think we’ll start on the alphabet today. That way you can at least finger spell what you need, even if it’s slow.

“Sounds good,” he says, and she nods, talking the chalkboard to write the alphabet.

Slowly but surely, she teaches Steve and Eddie the alphabet. They get a little tripped up on some of the letters, most noticeably p and q, until Nicole takes pity on them and makes a p. She uses her other hand to draw a line down both her extended fingers, then tracing her own legs. She taps her thumb, peeking out between the two, and with a mischievous grin, points between Steve and Eddie’s legs.

They share a look and burst out laughing, but they don’t forget those letters again.

By the end of the day, they’ve gotten through the alphabet with enough regularity that Nicole feels they can practice on each other.

Steve pauses before they leave. T-h-a-n-k, then a pause, then y-o-u.

Nicole smiles, presses her fingertips to her lips, then brings her hand down to chest height, palm up. She does the motion again, and Steve copies her, grinning when she nods excitedly.

“Thank you,” he signs and says, grinning even wider when she pulls him into a quick hug before waving at him and Eddie.

They wave back and pile into the van, Steve’s hand in Eddie’s before Steve can practically blink. He smiles, unbearably fond, and squeezes to get his attention before signing, “Thank you.”

Eddie just smiles back, throws the van into reverse, and starts home. 

They practice more while they make dinner, throwing words like spatula and stir and chop around, and Steve didn’t realize learning could be this fun.

He’s watching Eddie stir the broth, hips moving in a little dance to a song only Eddie knows, and his heart is so full, he has to say something before his heart bursts. “I’m gonna say something that’s gonna sound incredibly sappy,” he says. “But just… please just listen until the end? And try not to tease me too much.”

Eddie just smiles, grabs his hand and squeezes, and Steve takes a breath before starting.

“I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad you were there that day, I’m glad you were there when I woke up at the hospital, I’m glad you were there when I realized going home meant being completely alone. I’m glad you made a complete fool of yourself in the hospital lobby, doing charades to let me know I could stay here.” He takes a breath. “I’m glad you have Nicole, because it lets me talk with you easier. I’m glad you never once let me feel like I’m alone, or like I’m going through this alone. I’m glad you’re learning with me. I’m glad you’re making this fun. I didn’t know learning could be fun, but it is with you, and I-” he takes a breath, swallows the three words that want to come out. “I’m glad it’s you,” Steve whispers, “here, at the end of all things.”

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Eddie’s hands are cradling his cheeks, wiping away tears. Eddie’s just as teary-eyed, though, and he pulls away, looking for the notebook. Please don’t punch me.

Steve looks up, brows furrowed, to watch Eddie spell something. I l-o-v-

That’s as far as he gets before Steve gasps, understanding, or hoping he understands, and pulls Eddie into a kiss.

He pulls back almost immediately to check that’s correct, that that is what Eddie was trying to say, when Eddie pulls him back in, dinner be damned, crowding him in against the counter and doing his best to lick into Steve’s mouth.

Steve lets him, pulling away for a sharp inhale before diving right back in, fingers tight in Eddie’s hair and the back of his shirt, and there’s a sudden vibration that he just knows means Eddie moans, and suddenly he’s dizzy again, but this time he welcomes it, because this time he’s not passing out; this time, he’s dizzy because he’s drunk on love.

[mandy-asimp]

Wishing I could engrave Patti lupone even further into my brain. Like volume is full blast and it just is never enough. I need louder. Make me deaf. Break me like she did the sound barrier.

[plutonious]

couple doodles from a bunch of magmas. mostly emmets. I don't think it's obvious but I quite like emmet

[judesstfrancis]

makes me crazy when queer people specifically think the shape of water was too weird of a film. like that's you, actually. both historically and explicitly. that is supposed to be you. historically, queer people have only been able to be portrayed in film as villains or monsters. the dracula the swamp monster the fish man that is YOU. explicitly in the movie the fish man is a stand in for people who are Other. that's why the first woman to care for him is a mute woman who has been ostracized by everyone EXCEPT FOR other people who have been othered in society mainly octavia spencer and her gay roommate whose names I forget currently. and that's why the minority characters in that film are trying to help elisa and the fishman escape the government and live happily ever after. bc they are the same. he is them. tell me u get that

[saturnvs]

tried out my new watercolors! i had to paint the 30 year old horse i saw at the stable where i have my therapy, she was so sweet (and ancient looking)

[myokk]

1930s AU continued💓💓

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

Our non-marine heroine Karleeen McQueen

You know what, you already know lots of stuff about Ahti II, I’m now going to tell you about Karleeen the spidergirl, Ahti’s best friend and the protagonist of a story I’m writing! A quick information sheet:

(+ Art reference)

Karleeen (with three e’s)… well, who doesn’t know about Karleeen! Probably not by looks, but you could read all about her on the papers some years back. It’s been a while, you'd hardly recognise her if you saw her now! Especially among the other jolly beachgoers, joggers, shoppers and summertime tourists; Karleeen lives in Naantali after all, with her single father on the coast of southwest Finland. In the summer it's busy, in the winter it's very quiet, all year round it's a very appropriate place for Karleeen, she thinks.

Now in her mid-teens (the Sirpaverse “starting point” is 2021), Karleeen is a most open and jolly girl! She loves socialising and chats with just about anybody she has a chance to interact with for more than five minutes. She’s always planning outings and looking to spend time with her best friends, too! She enjoys being silly, making wordplay and coming up with puns with ridiculous set-ups. Karleeen is a sensitive soul, she feels all of her emotions very strongly and shows them strongly, too. She sometimes has trouble regulating her emotional reactions and has a tendency to spiral. It's very difficult for Karleeen to lie, her feelings will be very clear from her facial expressions and body language no matter how hard she may pretend to feel otherwise. Not that she'd even lie! It would make her feel too bad.

Karleeen has loved nothing more her whole life than making "thingamajigs" — you know, machines, things that move, little inventions! It's so fascinating to her, how pieces that are little more than scrap on their own weave together into intricate creations that are far more than the sum of their parts. When she was a young kid she'd make things out of twigs and rocks and rope, but in her teens she's now moved onto more sophisticated methods, legos and actual robot-building sets. She's also dipping her toes into coding, so far it seems fun and it offers an additional medium for making things (only digitally this time). Karleeen would love to study mechanical engineering when she's old enough to go to a university, but it'll be a while until then! Besides for robotics Karleeen enjoys hiking in the outdoors, climbing trees, basking, collecting fun and/or useless trinkets of various kinds and strawberry-themed items, playing platformers and action-adventure games and doodling.

Karleeen’s a smart girl, but she struggles a lot with languages. Or, well, don’t let me entirely misrepresent her: she does have the achievement of knowing some ASL signs. Still, Finnish is the only language she speaks fluently and it’s her own mother tongue! She can’t quite get anything else stuck to her brain, speaking Swedish or Surish or even simple English feels like a chore. Like stated above Karleeen’s body language is very clear, one of the more common actions Karleeen does when she’s nervous, scared or sad is holding her hands and arms close to her chest.

Karleeen's favourite genre of music is classical, but she can't listen to it casually because it makes her very emotional. She likes pop, rock and soundtracks when it comes to just playing music in the car or with friends. Her favourite animals are elephants, and her favourite fish is the electric eel. Her favourite meal is minute beef steak with seasoned butter and chanterelles, but her actual favorite singular food item in general and favourite snack is wild strawberries. Her favourite drink is tap water. Her favourite flower is fireweed.

(Nowhere else to really mention this but Karleeen is also asexual and biromantic, it took a long while for her to figure out because her relationship with having human connections is rather complicated and unusual but she’s comfortable in that identity and doesn’t really overthink it, she has a lot of love in her heart for so many things so it’s only natural she would have a lot of love for many people too, she thinks)

[read-write-thrive]

there are all of 6 fics on ao3 that come up when you search the word “disabled” in the dead boy detectives fandom. I’m dealing with a fibromyalgia flare up rn so I’ve decided to come up with some (potential!) disability/condition/syndrome/etc. headcanons. enjoy!

(oh and just to note: I stayed away from conditions with obvious facial / appearance difference as no actors with facial / appearance difference were cast in the show and I was unsure if it would be appropriate. while I have experience with a lot of the following diagnoses, I do not claim to be an expert on any of them and do not intend for this to be used as a diagnostic tool. if you feel any of these are offensive/inappropriate, please message me and I’m happy to talk about it :) this is more just to encourage broader disability representation within the fandom!)

Edwin: autistic, PTSD (from hell), chronic pain/fibromyalgia (from his death/hell), minor visual impairment (not enough to need the hard-to-come-by testing needed for glasses when he was alive and so assumed the various limits/effects were normal. was told otherwise by Niko), would’ve had shingles if lived long enough

Charles: ADHD, PTSD (from his father/growing up in an abusive household), dyslexia, Reynaud’s syndrome (either already born with it or as a result of his death—both angsty), was in the beginning stages of an ED prior to his death, post-concussion syndrome, near-sightedness (never given glasses bc he wasn’t about to tell his dad the board looked a little blurry sometimes)

Crystal: cPTSD (reminder that neglect is also abuse :), bipolar 1, IBS, endometriosis

Niko: autism, depression, POTS, hEDS, anxiety, sprite-induced agoraphobia, epilepsy, lactose intolerance

Monty: Depersonalization-derealization disorder, selective amnesia (this is not the first times Esther has messed with his form/killed and revived him, but the experience is traumatic and so his brain decides not to remember it), recurrent arrhythmia, synesthesia

Jenny: OCD, BPD, ED recovered, Celiac’s disease, diabetes type 1, anemia

TCK: autism, NPD, lactose intolerance, colourblind

Esther: chronic pain (I’m choosing to believe that the cane isn’t just for show!!), NPD, endometriosis

Tragic Mick: cPTSD, depression, HoH, arthritis, diabetes

(The Night Nurse , the Dandelion Sprites, and various other characters felt either too supernatural and/or not developed enough to assign anything to lmao)

[blood-starved-beast]

how would you interpret Maria hugging hunter in her visceral? i always thought of it as some sort of mockery from her

Sort of, but in the way that her whole fight is sort of a "mockery" of the concept of a dashing Heroic romance (In the Shakespearean sense of the term). Let me explain.

First, we have to understand Maria's character design in that she is of the bifauxnen archetype. The bifauxnen is a handsome, gentleman-ly type woman portraying all the traits we associate with a dashing hero: courageous, refined and sometimes aristocratic, and androgynous. She is the counterpart to the bishonen, the contrast to the more coarse Lad-ette. The most famous of this archetype of course is Lady Oscar from Rose of Versailles. She is essentially a Female Prince.

The Lady Maria reflects this design. Out of all the Hunters and Byrgenwerth crew, she is the one dressed to the Nines, wearing dashing Cainhurst fashion to something that is essentially nasty and wet and all the other things (the Hunt). She's wearing jewelry (the Lumenflower brooch) the cravat, the fact she curls her hair, the aristocratic looks and backstory (the fact that she's the Lady Maria, a Knight of Cainhurst Vileblood royalty), the fact that she was the one taking care of the Research patients and they worship her, etc. Her outfit fits along the lines of the Lady Oscars, Alucards, and so forth. The fact that she is the only one to realize the atrocity of her actions, to regret her actions and reject her calling as a Hunter, is so fucking introspective at the cost of noticing Gehrman's mania for example reads very much in line of a Romantic hero. She is presenting a Look and this Look says she is meant to come off as rich, handsome, and heroic as she's slaying monsters. At least, those are the visual cues the player is meant to read in that sense. And that is carried over into her actions.

Lady Maria fights the Hunter to "liberate [them] from [their] wild curiosity" - she is taking the role again, of the hero. The villain here, being that need for Insight and she is saving the Hunter from the call of blood. She then engages you a fight, a dance really, set to waltz - again, playing with those romantic hero tropes (assuming you don't parry her to death). The visceral attack therefore, plays into that fantasy. She treats you so gently cause of course you are the Victim enslaved by your thirst for knowledge, she is the romantic hero, mercy killing you with the sweet kiss of death. She steadies you as your now heartless body bleeds out onto the floorboards of the clocktower.

But like everything in Bloodborne, there is a catch you see. Cause the Lady Maria is not a hero in fact; she is a bloody coward.

Yes, Maria is the only member of the Byrgenwerth crew (and amongst the few Hunter in general) to make a dry stop + u-turn from the Hunt and the atrocities associated with that. But unlike someone like Djura, who at least is trying to be productive in his redemption, Maria runs from her mistakes. She casts Rakuyo into the Well and leaves. She joins the Research Hall and contributes to more atrocities there, but hey at least all the patients there love her right?? (😬) And when her brooding (or maybe insanity? who says she was immune to the Beast plague? Or Kos infecting her brain??) was too much for her, she takes her own life instead of you know, working to dismantle the systems - both the Research Hall and the Hunt itself. Her issues and her guilt - that is more important to her than actually helping or saving people. She the Lady Maria of the Astral Clocktower, Lord over nothing else but the reminder of her greatest failure. Both in life and in death.

Cause you see, her stopping the Hunter isn't really about saving them from their wild curiosity. The Fishing Hamlet is dead and gone. The effects are echoing throughout all of Yharnam in this day and age. Heck, the Hunter just came in from the Research Hall itself. It is well and truly Known, to prevent future atrocities of that scale, one has to know the events that led to those atrocities in the First Place. Lady Maria isn't helping you, isn't saving you from anything you already knew to begin with. She is, once again, trying to alleviate her own guilt and shame and trying to prevent others of knowing of that shame. So she tries to kill you. But you know, in a Heroic way. Hence why the whole fight is a sham and mockery.

She also hates your guts. I consider this to be tertiary canon at best, but the deleted lines has it so that she calls you insufferable, and baits you to kill her. She Does Not Actually Give a Shit About You. It cannot be more blatant than that. And how couldn't she? You make her recall her greatest shame, force her to break the last of her principles (no Vilebloodbending) so that your ass does not learn of what she's done. You also keep coming back, so you're a constant reminder that no matter what she does, her actions really do mean nothing, not before, and definitely not now.

Also she stares at you like this the whole fight if looks could kill well, you would be dead and not coming back (The way you ought to. Bastard. Stay dead already!! - Lady Maria, probably):

So yeah, she is mocking you with a oh so sweet kiss from the Handsome Hero type as she rips your heart out (breaking it) and kills you very dead. Cause fuck the Hunter specifically.

[demadogs]

ALL THE LIGHT WE CANNOT SEE

(2023) Dir. Shawn Levy

[artharakka]

"I didn't think anyone would come for me."

"I was always coming for you. Only for you."

[ianthesmells]

mouthwashing is a special experience because not only do you get to watch characters not take responsibility and not expect men in power to do anything to help women in the game, but you also get to watch the same reaction play out in real time in the fandom

[gingermintpepper]

Day 5: Orpheus

Interpretation notes and trivia under the cut!

Orfeu meu amor <333 Honestly this could be my longest ever set of notes or the shortest because unlike literally any of the other Apollonian figures in this, I have never once had to waver from what I wanted with Orpheus and that's an Orpheus without Eurydice. I know that sounds kind of strange, Orpheus and Eurydice have always been completely synonymous with each other but like, Orpheus is kind of completely batshit as a concept and I'm tired of pretending the most interesting thing about him is his love life?? His love life is cool, don't get me wrong, but we, collectively, as a group of people don't pay nearly enough attention to the fact that Orpheus was singer and musician so gifted that he made trees and rocks bow to him and he could stir even the gods to grieve from his songs. This is the guy who's song was so beautiful that not only did he outsing the Sirens, they also killed themselves upon hearing his song?? This is the man that was pulled apart but his head just?? Kept on singing??? So the Muses just???? Added his perpetually singing decapitated head to their choir??? There are depictions of Apollo using said decapitated head to help him teach people???? And we're gonna focus on him trying to get his dead wife back?????? Really?? Miss me with that nonsense, Orpheus is the witchest witch to ever witch and if no one else is gonna make him the disgustingly powerful bard he was in myth then I guess I'll have to do it myself. His femme appearance is mostly inspired by the highly ornamental raiment of kithara players and he consistently has some of the fanciest clothes of the cast apocalyptic hellscape be damned.

Some assorted trivia:

Son of Apollo and Calliope - was accidentally conceived during the period when Artemis had forbid Apollo from fraternising with mortal creatures in penance for him orchestrating Orion's death and so Calliope and the other Muses hid him away in the court of King Oeagrus. Didn't know Apollo was actually his father until quite a bit later.

Not a demigod as that would imply he's half human. Orpheus isn't exactly mortal either but he certainly cannot be harmed by most normal methods. There's no formal name for something half god, half muse and not deathless so Orpheus prefers to identify as the Son of a Muse rather identifying strongly as something strictly divine.

Older than Heracles! One of Apollo's oldest children still kicking about, actually, but he's treated like the youngest due to how fragile he'd been after Eurydice's death. Is generally better now than he used to be, but still tends to have depressive episodes every now and again.

Horrifyingly powerful. Orpheus' words are so potent that he does his best to not speak at all for fear of influencing the people around him accidentally. Has the uncanny ability to transmit his own feelings through his songs which can be both fantastic and awful. The Twelve had Apollo put a seal on his tongue when he was grieving so his song would stop completely disrupting the world. The seal's since been removed as Orpheus has had a lot of help working through his feelings. Now he paints whenever he thinks about Eurydice which is much more productive for everyone involved.

Argonaut, storied traveller, speaker of many languages, healer, teacher and storyteller. Teaches occasionally at the Parnassus Institute for Gifted Children and tends to be a favoured teacher whenever he drops by. Is responsible for a lot of very important people knowing some form signed or gestured language.

Has no set 'home' and wanders from temple to temple, sanctuary to sanctuary. His worldly belongings like his clothes and old paintings are currently with Asclepius and his family. Apollo has some of his stuff as well, but they're mostly special instruments like the holy lyre he used on his journey on the Argo.

Never keeps any money on him and is usually fed and clothed by the townspeople wherever he goes. Hasn't had to actually pay for something in decades. Has absolutely no concept of money because he'd forgotten it's a thing people need day to day.

Had a brief fling with Heracles while he was still mortal and the two remain on good terms even now. Heracles tends to visit him every now and again for a stint in some springs and good music.

Favourite colour is maple orange, favourite food is roasted pheasant with rosemary and thyme. Allergic to specifically pale yellow mead but is fine with raw honey and honeycomb. Aristaeus has been trying to figure out what causes his reactions for years now.

[thesinglesock]

wait the kid is using signs?? Is she Deaf? Like actually?? I that didn't even cross my mind so I didn't pay attention to it but I don't think anything contradicts it? In the scene she's in now she sure is using her eyes like she's Deaf. Only nodding ot shaking her head at things Jinx say when she's Actively Looking at her close up (reading lips?). She seems kinda unsure about her answers too like you would if you only pick up a few words here and there??

post-episode edit: prooobably not?? but then again could be! Kids are smart, she could probably figure out what's going on without hearing the dialogue. also her one act of vandalism so far is destroying the audio-message on a speaker. which is very Deaf Activism of her

[gmanmedias]

day 4: make a board based off of a headcanon that brings you joy!

🧡 🧡 🧡

🤍 🤍 🤍

💙 💙 💙

[necrotic-nephilim]

after seeing the poll about who in the batfam could be Deaf, I am now obsessed with how the masks could affect their sign. If they use their signing space differently when in the vigilante persona or not. Signing is so distinctive to each person that the code switching they do would be interesting to see play out in their ASL. Also thinking about what family signs the family would use to refer to batshit things in their lives. q

YEAH YOU GET IT.

(the poll in question) i am deeply fascinated by the mechanics in which Deaf culture could play into the Batfam. bc most of them are wearing masks that would heavily inhibit ASL (given ASL is an expressive language) so i think it's more likely they'd use something akin to Makaton or Military Hand Signals that are not a fully developed language, but a communication aid, with a given set of signs for the typical things that need to be communicated in the field. meanwhile they'd be more likely to use ASL casually. (i'm unsure who all in the Batfam is confirmed to know ASL, but i know at the very least Bruce and Tim are)

i'm also very drawn in by the idea of other firms of assistive communication/tech used aside from just ASL. i personally find it believable that the masks of any of the Batfam could include automatic captioning tech that only they see through the inside of the mask, similar to captioning glasses at movie theatres, if they were Deaf/HoH. also how you would modify the concept of comm links to be more accessible, potentially projecting the message visually through the person's mask or maybe a wrist communicator sort of situation, depending on their personal preference. how the Batfam in general would interact with each other if one or multiple of them were Deaf would be heavily shaped and i think it's so fun. and i *love* the thought of personal signs they'd have to come up with bc well, ASL is hardly equipped for their lifestyle. also fun to consider sign names and if sign names are unique to the person or unique to the mantle. (eg, would the sign name for Robin be specific to which Robin, or just the mantle at large) there's so many little things that would change and i just think it's Neat. most people are approaching the poll from the perspective of their character of choice having hearing loss from vigilante work (which is a super valid way to approach it and i love those headcanons) but personally i find it fun if the deafness is a pre-existing condition and already something the Bat has been dealing with for years and thus approaches vigilantism needing to modify their gear slightly from the standard norm. how they could influence how Bruce trains them, emphasizing other senses. how they'd likely be far more tactical on the field, pressing their hands against something to feel for noise, ergo their gloves may be designed to more easily pick up vibration. (cannot tell you how much i do that irl) whether or not they'd hide it from the larger hero world is also an interesting question. it's all a fun internal struggle as well, internalized ableism and all. so much you could do with it!!