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thealiveshadow · 10 months

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Looking at all of the takes this chapter, and I thought about this Tokyo Ghoul quote that Eto Yoshimura wrote in her book “Dear Kafka”

"That time, so that no one (not even Father) would notice, I secretly rewrote the summary.

What cannot change can only be broken.

This is so to me, who left behind everything necessary inside the womb."

(There’s also this translation, which I think fits better into what AFO’s character, even if there are only a few words that were changed: “Then I, hidden from everyone (particularly father), stealthily rewrote the outline. Things that cannot be changed, can only be broken. From the view of I, who left all needed things in the womb.”)

And how this quote in a way truly summarizes, especially the last line, the way All for One thinks of himself and a way we, the audience, can view the way he thinks of himself. For example, the first line can be used in reference to how he changed the summary of the comic books him and Yoichi read together, in order to better fit his own wishes and desires. He doesn't accept the fact that Hero had defeated the Villain in the end, and decides to simply stop reading when the villain had won and become the Demon King, hereby rewriting the summary of the book to fit his own needs and desires. (So in that context, it should be "(not even Brother) would notice", but we'll let it slide this time for the sake of coherence) He then tries to LARP that twisted idea and that's how you end up with the current AFO, a man who thinks of himself to be the Demon King of comic books, and does what ever he possibly can to bring that reality of the summary of the comic books he rewrote.

I think the second line of the quote also is an indication of the way AFO thinks. To the core he doesn't believe that people cannot change, evidenced by the way he reacts when Lady Nagant is now fighting on the side of the heroes and when he starts losing to what he defines as a ''bunch of extras". He does not anticipate people to step outside of the lines that he drew around them and when they do go outside of those ideas and change (you know how people do) he throws tantrums and and refuses to acknowledge the fact that each person has their own autonomy and character, far beyond any neat little box he has put them into. And what he cannot change he wants to break. He wanted to break Yoichi by forcefully bestowing a quirk onto him, he wanted to break Tomura by grooming and manipulating him for the majority of his life into believing that he was simply born evil, and he wants to break all of the "extras" such as Stain, Jiro, Hawks, and Bakugou who go against the stereotypes he has placed them into, because to him these people can not change their so called "true nature", and therefore can only be broken.

Lastly, the third line, which I have been waiting impatiently to get to. I think this last line, truly shows the way AFO thinks of himself. In the chapter, All For One is shown to have cannibalized his mother as soon as he was born, and has been described as someone who simply took from others, without any regard, because he thought that anyone who could not give him *something* was useless. One could say that this is an indication of how All For One was evil from his birth, and therefore has no redeeming qualities. BUT this is My Hero Academia, good sir, where everyone is human. While framed in a horror like and grim way, it important to look past that and see the AFO/Yoichi backstory through the lens of BNHA's themes, which are all about humanizing villains and are against dehumanization in general. Imagine being newborn with a dead mother with no source of nutrition, and you have to eat her. You grow up with no one to protect your child self, no name, no sense of identity, no social security net, no one to help you differentiate between right and wrong, you are constantly being hunted for simply existing, and you are responsible for someone who is far weaker than you and have to find ways to protect yourself and him as well. So, of course you are going to grow up twisted, with disturbing ideals and cruel habits. But AFO and a lot of the MHA fandom doesn't see those factors, or refuse to acknowledge them. That's why I think this third line really displays AFO's mindset how he thinks he was evil from the womb. All things necessary to interact and engage with the world in a healthy way, such as the ability to show affection, to be caring, to be understanding, to have the methods of socialization, and have a acceptance of the autonomy of other individuals, and to be able to face and understand you own feelings in general, are abilities that have to be learned, they don't simply come to you in dream at night. But All for One does not think that, rather he refuses to humanize himself, and continues to play the role of the Demon King in the story he is trying to write, forever convinced that he was born like that from his mother's womb.

In summary, I think this quote from Eto Yoshimura really provides insight into the character AFO is and what he thinks of himself. He rewrote the summary of the comic books him and Yoichi read together, he doesn't believe that people can be changed, only be broken into what he wants them to be, and that he truly believes he has been evil from the very beginning, and any kind of "humanlike" trait he could have, was all left behind in his mother's womb.

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snugglesquiggle · 5 months

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i feel a lil bad asking this right when a lot of people are excited for hostile takeover, but for financial reasons, i might need to start putting some of my energy into more serious original projects again.

i'm not pausing HT — i don't think i could stop thinking about those lezbots if i tried — but being able to take breaks to work on other things tends to be good for my energy levels in general.

and honestly, when i first started, i thought HT itself was just going to be a quick break from those projects, and now i'm four months in and my plans keep growing >.>

anyway, the purpose of this post is that i wanted to gauge interest. i know most people follow me for murder drones stuff, but do any of the original stories i'm considering interest you?

more detailed pitches for each of these can be found under the cut. honesty is appreciated.

a note before i pitch them — when i write original fiction, i post it to my site and a site for original fiction called royalroad. i'll probably reserve my ao3 account for, yknow, fanfiction.

the plan is that while the stories will eventually be available publically, supporters to my patreon will get to read several chapters ahead of everyone else.

Aurora Moonrise

It is the nature of comets to dazzle and destroy. These eldritch spirits from beyond the stars grind kingdoms to dust with joyful ease. Only the power of a daughter of the moon can repel them. There are none left. Aurora knows she is different. Her father is a plain man, and her mother is a mystery. Her prismatic hair, her divergent mind, her inability to weave common enchantments — it must come from her mother's side. But her mother is gone and no one will say why or where or anything. It's enough to make her want to fight someone. And Aurora fights — people, animals, spirits, it doesn't matter. She doesn't want to hurt them, but it's thrilling. She'll just have to become a knight — knights get to fight things, right? And knights get answers to who their parents were. When a cursed storm leaves Aurora glowing in the light of the full moon, she awakens new powers she can't control. Powers unheard of, except in those old stories. But the word on the lips of churchmen is witchcraft — communion with unnatural spirits that spells doom. Will she defend humanity? Or is she a threat to it?

pitching this one is hard, because the most interesting thing about is a twist reveal at the end of the first arc. at first, you can see it's framed to suggest — and Aurora initially believes — her mother is a "daughter of the moon", but of course, she's actually a comet.

as the poll option suggests, her inhuman heritage makes urges her to fight and hinders her ability to understand the basics of human social interaction.

this would be a long story, lighter in tone than the others, and structured like a fantasy trilogy, about Aurora journeying across the land doing what she thinks heroes do. along the way, she picks up several party members with their own weird baggage. all of them girls, of course, and it gets very gay by the end — but it's slow going because, yknow, aurora doesn't understand romance, either.

i'm very excited about this project — just thinking about it is enough to get me bouncing. you can actually read a four chapter teaser right now, and i have over 70k words of notes past that, with the whole thing outlined start to finish.

Thy Wretched Mask

Everyone wants to peel off their skin and scream into the night. You're just supposed to keep a handle on that. Beca's trying. Now on the run, she'll just have to get it right in a new town. She's got nothing to her name save a pet raven, but a little pickpocketing will change that. Maybe a burglary or two. As long as she doesn't tear someone's flesh apart in broad daylight, she could keep things controlled. It's a lonely life, but friendship is only temptation. She should just keep to herself. So why does she listen when the woman from the shadows talks? They're making an offer that could lift her off the streets for good. The catch? She has to kill someone. Again. That's definitely too much temptation.

once again, the most interesting parts of this are a surprise. Beca isn't human; she's saddled predatory instincts she doesn't understand. the "fungal possession" comes into play several chapters in. it gets intense enough that i believe it's one of the few times i've teared up while writing something, and it's so far the first and only time i've written something that explores topics of plurality, which is pretty personal to us

i say HT is the first time i've written romance (and it is), but TWM came close, and would have gotten even closer if i continued it.

i've already written over 20k words of this (unpublished), but due to the writing exercise it began as, it requires substantial rewrites; i cringe when i try to reread it, and it honestly makes the prospect of returning a bit unexciting.

this would probably only about the length of a novel. (original projection was novella length, but i think i want to flesh it out more.)

of all of my potential projects, i think this one is probably the biggest thematic overlap with Hostile Takeover. but uh, it's dark enough to make that look like a sappy romance >.<

Running Out of Skin & Time

Tomorrow, a lord will be flayed alive. Once his flesh, freely given, is woven into a vast frame, enchanted scars will turn him into a living portal, a gift that could turn a blightstricken town into a bustling trade nexus. Apnoe has woken up beside the same dead girl three nights in a row. The lord's flaying is tomorrow — same as it was for the last three nights. She's the only one who's noticed. Assassins lurk in the flaying festival's crowds, and when they strike the lord dead, the whole town watches their dreams crumble, and then Apnoe wakes again as if from a dream. She knew this quite well; on the first night, she had killed him. Scarred flesh grants magic. How deep a wound did it take to make every living soul in the city relive the same day? It wasn't Apnoe's, and she doesn't know why only she remembers, but then again, most scar magic treats her differently. After all, she's dead half the time. Apnoe would kill to end this nightmare — but it seems the only way out is saving a man who'll die tomorrow anyway.

of all the options, this story is the least well flesh out (no pun intended), but it has a lot of potential. a "time loop" where a character relives the same day over and over is something not enough stories explore well

(if it means anything to you, the inspiration for this fic was literally just thinking "what if the Shibuya Incident was a time loop?")

i call this "superhero fantasy" because, while i havent figured out the tech level (it's industrial, but how modern?), the magic system gives everyone unique and specific abilities that are easiest to imagine as superpowers.

the time loop effect itself is the rube goldberg interaction of half a dozen powers, and part of the fic is puzzling out just how it works, as well as puzzling out how to overcome the various powers arrayed against the lord.

it would be a very complex, cerebral fic, all about power progression and fight scenes, but at its heart, i want it to be the story of two dead girls who love each other enough to unravel fate itself

A Chimerical Hope

Duskroot is destroyed. A minor stronghold, its enemies were cunning and coordinated and its allies didn't lift a hand. As vultures at a corpse, mercenaries hunt for survivors. Awelah escaped Duskroot. She lost everything. Vengeance drives her, but can she kill a angel beyond death? Ooliri's mission is to aid the refugees. He has to prove he belongs in a family of medical geniuses. But healing isn't enough — can he bring the dead back to life? Makuja seeks safety among the refugees. Death and servitude leaves her gaze empty. It's easy to be a follower, but is there a purpose worth living for? First, the three need answers. A grand scheme is unfolding, and Duskroot was only the first step.

unlike all of the others, this isn't an idea for a story, or a plan for a story, it is a story, one i've written 100k words for. you can read it here

it's set in an expansive setting i've spent literal years thinking about with giant insects empowered by virulent mutant bat blood and cold black corruption pouring out from a hole in the sky.

it's also, shamelessly, only avoids being called naruto fanfiction by dint of sheer weirdness

Aurora Moonrise may be the story i'm most excited about, but ACH is the one with the most ambition and purpose behind it. if i could only ever tell one story in my life, it'd probably make it ACH. it might be over a million words if i ever finish it

but i also think it's probably too weird to get very popular.

And so on

if you can't tell already, i have a LOT of story ideas. before i ever watched murder drones, would you believe i was literally already working on a story about killer lesbian robots on a inhospitable frozen planet haunted by a creeping cosmic horror?

and i'm kind of tempted to work on a story about modular mushroom creatures that live underground. or a fricken pokemon mystery dungeon self-insert i've already finished one chapter of.

and of course, i have several other stories i could continue working on.

but like, the stories i've listed are the ones i can honestly say i might work on right now. and, practically speaking, the stories that might genuinely takeoff, if i dare hope.

#🐍#my squiggles #my writing

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donnerpartyofone · 10 months

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Wow, I just saw where you put the comma in your user name. It's even funnier now.

I never thought of it as Donner, Party of One as a table reservation. Announced in an officious tone.

I pictured it as donnerparty OF ONE. Meaning there is only one person in the Donner Party. As in, you are all alone in the cold woods eating yourself. LOL.

Hahaha obviously this is the username that keeps on giving! It's interesting how people react to it. I don't remember how long ago I came up with it but I'm sure I was feeling VERY clever, it would be many years before I learned that Robin Williams made the same joke in some standup routine, and he probably wasn't the first person to think of it either. I once applied for a job where the person who interviewed me vigorously insisted that I got it from the movie SCREAM, and I'm sure that joke is nowhere to be found in any installment of SCREAM but she was so passionate about her assumption for some reason, I didn't fight her on it too hard; in retrospect I chose the irrational belief that that was an omen that that was going to be a really hard, shitty, low-paying job.

My conscious interest in cannibalism emerged during my first semester at college, where it became clear that I had been interested in cannibalism all along but had never really connected the dots. It seemed to be the most frightening and compelling thing I could think of. When I was a kid I had a copy of Silence of the Lambs that I carried around like it was the Bible, reading it over and over. I had intensely vivid nightmares about THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE for years before I would ever see the movie, my brain just seemed to know it would become a big part of my life. RAVENOUS came out right before I went to college and when I got there I made a cult out of it; I was watching it at-least-daily in the dorm lounge, which at first people hated, then some people started to join me, then after we came back from Thanksgiving I learned that a lot of people went home and showed it to their families! And then it seemed to happen that whenever I picked the movie, it would involve cannibalism unpredictably--none of us were Shakespeare-literate enough to know it would be in TITUS, and when it randomly came up in DEAD MAN everyone turned around and looked at me like I must have known, like I tricked them. There were other examples that aren't coming to me. At some point it just sort of became my identity. I used to have a couple of fork & knife clothing patches that I painted and wore on various things.

I just think it's interesting, like it has lots of allegorical possibilities. I'm mainly attracted to it as a description of extreme anti-sociality. Like in TEXAS CHAIN SAW, you have a nuclear family in the American heartland, but instead of a heterogeneous unit that makes more people, you have a clan that is somehow only males and they consume people. (I mean there's a mother theoretically but she's literally a mummy, which I think is pointed) I'm interested in that kind of unhealthy system inversion. But people react to it all kinds of different ways, it's curious. I recently contacted this woman who wrote a horror-related paper I loved and she replied that she'd be happy to talk to me about anything "except cannibalism :)". I said this elsewhere but when I arrived at this book launch I had to host last week, the author told me "You know you're doing something right if people are offended!" and explained that when the event was publicized with my bio attached, which listed some of my academic interests, some guy emailed him "THERE IS NOTHING FUNNY ABOUT CANNIBALISM!" and cc'd a bunch of different people like it was an emergency; I mean considering what else was in my bio, I guess he thinks I find murder and sexual exploitation "funny" too, but none of that stuff bothered him. After the event someone waited patiently to tell me about his favorite metal band that only plays songs about serial killers, including some prominent cannibals, and I had to promise I would listen to it. Whatever you think about it, it's a very provocative topic, and I guess it's good that people are still sensitive enough to have a strong reaction!

#what's going on in the hannibal fandom is NOT provocative though #just turning everything into sex is too easy #most people are casually turning everything into sex all day long like it seems to be harder NOT to

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demona-andariel · 1 year

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A Simple Act of Kindness - 7 / ??

Fandom: Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003)

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt (Leatherface) x OFC

Summary: Elizabeth wakes up in a stranger's home. Her fate to become another victim of the Hewitt family is all but sealed till a simple act of kindness changes her life forever.

Warning: (Encompassing the whole story in no particular order) dead dove, rape/Noncon, violence, forced marriage, kidnapping, cannibalism, explicit sexual content, loss of virginity, angst

Author Note: Minors DNI!

Word Count: 2,529

Chapter 7 - One Simple Day

Elizabeth slowly woke up, feeling gross and sweaty. She stared ahead, watching herself through the mirror that was on the back of the door. Much to Thomas’ sounds of protestation, she had decided to actually wear a long nightshirt and underwear. It had been a while since she hadn’t slept naked, and she was roasting. That was a huge mistake.

Freaking Texas, she thought. His body heat behind her wasn’t helping. But, she had to do it. She had to put as much of a barrier between him and her as possible. She had failed in testing him to keep his hands and sexual needs to himself, considering she got turned on and chose to fuck him. Was it too much to ask for just one day of no fucking?

She got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. For a brief second, her world spun, but she pushed through that feeling. Grabbing a hand towel, she wet it with cold water from the sink and gently patted the back of her neck then face to cool off.

Today , she thought to herself, no matter what, we need to test him and see if he’ll respect us. She let out a sigh. He claimed he saw her as a person, and there was a part of her that believed him. But saying one thing held little meaning until it was actually done. Although, he was being super careful when they showered. Doing his best not to touch her or initiate sex between them.

Setting the hand towel back where it belonged, she walked out of the bathroom.

Thomas was awake and up, eyes focused on her. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said as she got back into bed. It was still pretty early. He laid back down, eyes watching her with interest. He reached out to touch her, but then pulled his hand back quickly as if he weren’t allowed.

“You don’t talk do you?” she asked, not giving him an invitation to touch her.

He simply shook his head. She reached out and he stiffened as she touched his face. He probably would never stop automatically reacting with fear each time she touched him, and despite knowing exactly who he was now and what he’d done and would continue to do, she felt sorry for him.

“I was one of those popular girls in school,” she started, gently running a finger along his body to do something while she talked. “But, I was also a big bully to kids who would bully, umm, for lack of a better word probably, kids like you. See, my brother, before the accident he had this very noticeable stutter. Kids used to make fun of him and I would get into fights with them. So, he ended up getting a little following because of me. Mess with him or his friends and expect me to come after you. And I was pretty vicious at times.” She paused for a moment, watching him carefully. “You could say I was the Queen Bee of my school. Then everything changed pretty quick.”

His face darkened a little bit, but then he let out a sigh, rubbing his hand along the scar on her arm. She cracked a small smile.

“To be honest, the scars I got didn’t change much in school. You would think so, but I think maybe I had so much control it was hard to unseat me. I was the one who let go of High School social life. My parents checked out of our lives pretty quickly. None of us escaped the fire uninjured. But, I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I know they loved us, but they had me young, and I think they were just counting the years till we were eighteen and could leave the house. When they realized that my brother needed so much care they weren’t happy. So, I had to grow up pretty quick.”

She paused for a moment, studying his face. His hand rose up to massage her jaw.

“I can’t remember the last time someone’s taken care of me,” the words slipped out, much to her surprise. “I’ve always had to be the one to look out for others. I’ve always had to deal with my life problems on my own.” She had to swallow back her gorge and close her eyes. She had never really thought about it. But, the words were true.

The almost completely quiet sane part of her mind started to rise up, trying to remind her who exactly she was talking to, opening up to. She quickly hushed the disappointed voice. This was no longer about morals or right and wrong or fighting back. It was about sanity and surviving. She had to make sure that he saw her as a person worth keeping around, and not just a babymaker or sex object.

Scooting up, she kissed him. He moved in closer, wrapping his arms around her. She immediately pulled back, placing her hand on his chest. “This isn’t about sex, Thomas,” she stated, just so that he knew where she was at. “I’m feeling tired. I want to rest today. Maybe tomorrow.”

He looked very disappointed but nodded his head as he kissed her forehead. She let out a content sigh and snuggled close to his chest despite the fact she was feeling very warm. She listened to his pounding heartbeat then closed her eyes and fell asleep.

His moving woke her up. She moaned softly. She didn’t want to wake up or move. A dull ache thumped in her head. Suppressing another moan, she got up as well. Hopefully, they had Aleve or something, but at the same time, she kinda doubted it.

Half dressed, Thomas placed his big hand on her shoulder, bringing her face up to look at him. She forced a smile to cross her face, yawning. “Just a little groggy,” she said, hoping that was what he was concerned about. “It might take me a few hours to fully wake up.”

He let her go. She went into her single drawer in his dresser and picked out the clothes she wanted to wear for the day. It was an old dress that had belonged to Luda Mae. She wasn’t sure what they’d done with her luggage that held her clothes. More than likely sold, gave away, or burned them. She didn’t want to know, being honest with herself. She’d already lost so much, she’d rather just assumed she’d lost them too.

Thomas’ lips pressed against her cheek and she couldn’t help but smile and press her hand against his cheek. With that, he left his room. Putting on Luda Mae's old dress, she sighed yet again. Elizabeth had no idea how to sew, but it was clear she needed to learn. The dress was a couple of sizes too big. Not like they would let her go out and do clothing shopping of her own.

Grabbing a couple of dresses as well as the dirty clothes, she stuffed them into a laundry basket and headed down the stairs.

Her world spun a little again, making her place her hand on the wall for support. Rubbing the bridge of her nose she clenched her jaw. Her headache was getting worse, and her forehead felt a little too warm. Was she getting sick? No, she couldn’t get sick. She pushed her unwell feelings to one side, focusing on pretending she was alright.

Carefully, she walked down the stairs. She’d just have to find an excuse to go to bed early. A long night’s sleep should be all she needed to get better.

“What’s this?” Luda Mae asked as Elizabeth handed her a small list.

“Things I need,” Elizabeth stated firmly. She kept her shoulders square but also tried her best not to look intimidating.

Luda Mae scanned the list then shook her head. “Do you think we can afford this?”

Elizabeth nodded. “I do. Unless you’ve spent all the cash that was in the car you found us in. Plus, no offense, your dresses don’t quite fit me. If you had kept my clothes I probably would have been alright wearing them for a while.”

Luda Mae hummed for a moment, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Coconut oil?” she asked.

“For my skin,” Elizabeth said, making sure to keep her voice even. “Cream is okay, but I found that a little bit of coconut oil really helps my skin better. More natural.”

Luda Mae's eyes softened, accepting Elizabeth’s answer. “Well, dearie,” she said pretending to be friendly. “I’ll send someone to see if they can find all the items on your list.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said before retreating. A risky gamble on her end and she knew it, but she didn’t want to give Luda Mae any opening to deny her requests. She wasn’t asking for very much either. The coconut oil was the most important thing on the list for her. But, cleaning and lounging around every day were going to get pretty boring after a while. Especially now that she wasn’t nearly as worried for her life as she had been the last couple of weeks. Elizabeth had added a couple of extra items including requesting some books, not that she expected that part to be fulfilled.

She made her way back to the laundry room. It was difficult for her to think and for once she was glad doing laundry was so mind-numbingly dull for her. Pulling out the last sheet to fold, her world spun yet again, making her place her hand on the wall to steady herself. It was official, she had come down with something. She wasn’t even sure what. No one in the family had gotten sick. At least, not sick enough for her to notice. Was it something she ate?

A shudder ran through her at the thought of possibly being fed human meat. It was possible that the family, Luda Mae, and Thomas, were sneaking human meat into her food. Bile rose up at the thought. She swallowed hard and pushed it back.

The only other explanation she had was she had been so tensed and scared that now that she had relaxed, her weakened body easily caught something.

Neither way mattered in the end. She was sick and she couldn’t tell anyone. Luda Mae would probably assume she was pregnant, which she knew she wasn’t. And she didn’t want to appear any weaker than she already was to the family.

It took more mental and physical energy than she wanted to make her way upstairs to put away the laundry and make the bed. In fact, it had taken her more time than it should have to do the laundry in general.

“Dinner’s almost ready!” Luda Mae shouted up to her, surprising her. Where had lunchtime gone?

Yeah, she was for sure getting sick. She paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath. Well, at least the day’s almost done. Just a little bit more. Collecting whatever energy reserves she had, she made her way down to the kitchen. Not wanting Luda Mae to ask for help, Elizabeth went straight for the dishes and set up the table, making sure not to forget anyone. A chill ran down her spine at the thought of seeing Hoyt again, but it was only a matter of time before he showed up for dinner.

“You can go sit down,” Luda Mae said the moment Elizabeth was done setting up the table.

“Thank you,” Elizabeth automatically replied. She would rather go upstairs and sleep. Almost done , she had to remind herself again.

Walking into the dining room, she paused for a moment as her heart jumped to her throat. Hoyt sat in his usual spot, giving her one of his lecherous smiles again, and Thomas was nowhere around.

“Evening,” Elizabeth said softly as she went to her spot and sat down. She didn’t have the energy to deal with him or whatever plans were made for her. Much to her relief, the door opened, and Thomas’ heavy walking made her look up and smile at him as he sat down next to her.

There was an odd speed as Luda Mae placed the food on the table, before sitting down in her chair. It was almost as if Elizabeth was watching the world move at a slightly faster pace. Everyone quickly filled their plate while Thomas handed hers without a second thought.

“Thank you,” she muttered as she picked up her fork to eat. Just a little bit longer , she told herself. Despite her thoughts, she just stared at her plate. Nothing looked appetizing. If anything, the thought of food upset her stomach even more. Her head continued to throb with pressure and her body tingled with weakness. She just had to push through dinner. Push through dinner, get to bed, and sleep off her developing fever.

“Are you not feeling well, dearie?” Luda Mae asked with concern.

Elizabeth put on her best smile. “I’m just tired is all,” she said softly. Don’t tip them off, she thought. She glanced up at Thomas who also looked concerned, giving him her best content smile.

“Running the bit-her ragged, huh?” Hoyt caught his word as Thomas growled.

She narrowed her eyes to glare at his uncle, who only laughed in response. Sick or no, she wasn’t going to stop showing her hate towards him.

“I’ll get used to you, girlie. Don’t worry, Tommy,” he said directing his attention to his nephew. “She’s yours and a part of our family now. I get it. Just gotta give your old uncle some time to remember his manners.”

Thomas pressed his body against Elizabeth’s as if he were trying to comfort her before he focused on his food again.

All she had to do was eat, clean dishes, go up to their room and go to sleep. Thomas already knew sex was off the table. She could only hope he’d respect that. She picked at her food, mustering the energy she needed to bring it up to her mouth to eat. Nope! Her throat felt like it closed to deny entry. “I’m sorry. I’m not hungry. I’m really tired. Excuse me, I’m going to bed,” she muttered quickly as she rose from the table. That was a mistake. Her world spun even harder. She vaguely heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. Strong arms caught her, just before she hit the ground herself and picked her up.

Luda Mae's warm hand pressed against her forehead. “Oh dearie, you are sick,” the woman stated.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but clutch Thomas’ shirt for reassurance. She wanted to deny it, but she just had no more energy.

“Tommy, take her upstairs, I’ll prepare-”

Whatever else Luda Mae said Elizabeth didn’t hear. Time seemed to stutter as one moment she was in the dining room, next she was going up the stairs and finally she was in bed. A cool cloth on her head made her moan and open her eyes to see a very concerned Thomas in front of her, doing his best to cool her down.

She forced a smile to cross her face as she reached out for him. “I’ll survive,” she promised. She’d been through worse after all.

Chapter 8 - In Sickness

#thomas hewitt x oc #Smut #horror #fanfiction #Texas Chainsaw Massacre #noncon tw #tw noncon

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astaroth1357 · 4 years

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Brothers Finding Out a Lesser Demon with a Crush is “Moving In” on MC

You know, I like to show the good sides of our boys a lot… But how about the ugly for today? Let's let them just being mean, nasty, possessive little demons, huh?

Full disclaimer: I almost didn’t post this because I received an answer post from @diavolosthots that ended up being distressingly similar to this idea about 3/4th of the way through drafting it. I’m posting it anyway because of the time I’ve already sunk into it but in exchange I will absolutely encourage you to read from @diavolosthots if you aren’t already. They’re a big reason why I’m making content to begin with and I love what they’ve done. Warning: their blog is a LOT less fluffy than mine (they probably wouldn't be into my stuff 😅) and has NSFW content so be prepared for that going in. If that’s not your thing then just give them a pass, cool?

Check out the Masterlist for more!

Warnings: Violence, Bullying, Cyberbullying, Cannibalism(?), Murder, Yandere-ish

This is all for the purposes of fantasy and in no way an endorsement for these behaviors in real life. Be nice (and smart) with your lives, my friends.

Lucifer

Is honestly offended for them.

Don’t they know the caliber of demon MC rubs elbows with every day? Do they honestly think they’d stand a chance? Any one of his brothers would be more deserving than some lesser demon suitor and that even INCLUDES Mammon.

But of course, the real reason they’d stand no chance is because he wants the MC too and he’s not planning on sharing with or losing to someone who isn’t even worthy to be stuck under his boot...

He may lay down some… “discreet” hints for the poor demon to look elsewhere.

Things like advising Diavolo to make some emergency changes to the classes at RAD so they no longer share any class together or watching the demon extra closely for any minute slip up he can flag them for. If he could have them expelled for a dress code violation, he’d do it no sweat.

Okay, "discreet hints…" Flagrant misuses of power… Same difference right?

He may never come right out and say they should leave MC alone (why dignify the guy with such a response?) but if looks could kill then his “competition” would be utterly decimated by now. Especially if he ever catches the two in the same room... Yikes.

Mammon

Oooo buddy, he ain’t happy. He doesn’t even like sharing with his brothers and now some rando wants a piece too?? Nuh-uh. No way.

Takes the more direct approach and just confronts the guy when the MC isn’t around. It's good for the demon that Mammon doesn’t like resorting to violence if he doesn’t have to. Heated words and a threat or two will be exchanged then they can go their separate ways.

That can be the end of it if the guy backs off (as anyone with sense should). But if not…

When he makes a threat, and he’s serious about it, Mammon makes good on them.

He’ll come back to the House one night a little beat up, maybe with a few nicks and scratches. Of course he’ll want the MC to play nurse for him and he’ll be delighted if they accept (even if his tsundere ass won’t say it).

The lesser demon apparently dropped out of RAD the next day. No explanation given. He didn’t even step foot back on the school grounds to do it...

Of course, everyone’s sure there’s no relation between the two. I mean, this is the same Mammon we’re talking about… right...?

Leviathan

It’s a miracle he even found out but now that he knows he’s pissed. He’s not the Avatar of Envy for nothing.

Look, he might be a shut-in and not worth all that much but he’s got to be better than some lesser demon guy! He’s the third born and he has a freaking navy for crying out loud!!

Will likely leave his room for the first time in who knows how long to follow the MC to RAD. Once he’s got a face to the name, that’s all he needs for his hatred to really get going...

He will make this dude’s life a living hell with the best tool a shut-in has, the Internet.

He’ll dedicate a freaking week to digging up dirt on this bozo then start releasing it out to everywhere he frequents. Not a single sock of that dirty laundry is getting left out. All of his most embarrassing secrets are laid bare for the Devildom to see.

He’d cover his tracks, of course, so nothing can be traced back to him. The MC is probably none-the-wiser to who’s spreading all this hot gossip but his brothers know right away.

Once the dude’s social life and pride are in utter ruin, he’ll invite the MC over for a movie marathon to celebrate! He might even get a little more cuddly than usual... His MC is with him and that’s how it ought to be.

Satan

Pffft… That’s cute. Real cute they think they stand a chance. He’d wish them luck but he also kind of wants to stab them so…

On the one hand, he knows he probably shouldn’t waste his time but on the other he just can’t resist the call to absolute devastation that his inner rage is forcing on him...

His new goal is to utterly undermine the new competition in every way, mental and physical, which means he will take every opportunity he can to demonstrate just how much on another level he is.

Gets nitpicky and corrects the guy’s every move. If he says something wrong in class, he’ll berate him for it. Make a social faux pas? Well now the whole school is going to know about it.

Doesn’t stop there, though. He will do everything in his power short of throwing the first punch to try and instigate a fight with the him. He knows that if he technically starts it then the punishment will be on him, but the other way around he can say, “Hey, he’s the one who punched Wrath incarnate. What was he expecting would happen?”

Any resulting fight between the two would be a very one-sided bloodbath. He will not hold back at all and stop when he damn well feels like. The guy will be in whatever the Devildom equivalent to a hospital is for weeks...

If the MC tries to ask him about his behavior, he’ll gaslight them and change the subject. He doesn’t really like indulging in the more violent side of himself in his day-to-day life but some things just can’t be helped, can they?

Asmodeus

Honestly not as bothered as the others are. He knows they stand zero chance, so why worry? It’s bad for the skin.

But that doesn’t mean he’s going to sit back and do nothing. Oh no, a zero chance could always become a one, even five percent chance if you’re not careful.

Asmo’s preferred method of ridding competition is like a mixture of Satan and Levi, but Oh. So. Much. Worse.

Lesser demons can be astonishingly easy to charm without them noticing and he is the best charmer of the family. He’s pretty popular to start with but suddenly he’s talking to almost everyone he comes across until, well, he’s got the whole school listening.

From there it’s child’s play. Suddenly, the demon’s friends won’t talk to them. People stare and whisper about them in the hallways, is what they’re saying true? Doesn’t matter. Asmo could feed them anything and they’d believe it.

He’ll make sure they feel isolated, alone, and hated by everyone they speak to and they won’t even know why. Going to RAD at all will be like walking into a prison. Ideally, they’ll just stop going, and then tada! Competition no more.

Of course, he could just charm the competitor to look elsewhere, but then who’s going to be the example to the others? Nobody needs any more “Zero-Chancers” popping up around the MC, right? You’re welcome, sweetie~! 😘

Beelzebub

He’s trying not to be that guy, he really is… but since the MC is involved… Really? You actually think you got a shot there, buddy?

Probably going to be the brother most likely to try and let the guy down gently at first, but make no mistake he will make sure he knows it’s a lost cause.

If the other demon still insists on being a competitor though… Alright.

MC pretty much goes under his “protection” from that point on. If they’re at RAD at all, Beel is not far behind. Not exactly looking outright intimidating but always just…. there.

But if the dude so much as enters a room with them he’ll be sure to stare him down and mention that he’s hungry a little louder and a lot more often.

To the MC that may just be typical Beel, but everyone else there knows Beel has swallowed lesser demons whole in the past. And for a lot less reason than this...

When Beel gets territorial he can be a subtle about it, but terrifying nonetheless.

Belphegor

Would laugh in their face and give zero shits about it.

Like, even as the weakest sibling he could snap them like a toothpick and that’s not even getting to how they probably know jack all about the MC anyway. What even is this idiot??

Starts pulling some casual “pranks” on the guy to grief him at first. Little things like tripping him up with his tail or taking his things and hiding them in inconvenient places.

The lazy part of him hopes he’ll get the message and back off but that sadistic side really hopes he doesn’t so he’ll never talk to him directly...

When, of course, the dude doesn’t back off because he doesn't know he's supposed to, his pranks start escalating. A textbook in the school pool suddenly becomes an explosive curse put on their backpack. A kind of homicidal passive-aggression, if you will.

By some unholy miracle the guy manages to last a couple days after a barrage of progressively lethal murder attempts pranks, Belphie’s inner laziness and frustration will finally get to him and he’ll cut the passive from his aggression.

Much like with Mammon, everyone finds out that the demon dropped out of school quite suddenly. But he’s also seemed to have gone dark from all his socials and his friends can’t seem to find him anywhere...

Concerns were raised with Lucifer but he doesn’t seem very enthusiastic about starting an investigation... It’s not the first time he’s covered for his brothers after all. 🙄🤷‍♀️

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me scenarios #obey me headcanons

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ladyonfire28 · 4 years

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Came back from my little break for that new article ! Here is the translation of Adèle and Aïssa’s interview for Libération. It’s a very long, but very interesting one. So i recommend to read it. There may be a lot of incoherencies so please tell me if something doesn’t make sense !

Aïssa Maïga and Adèle Haenel : «Finally there’s something political happening»

They stood up together at the César and have since been striving to invent a common front against all forms of discrimination. For "Libération", actresses Adèle Haenel and Aïssa Maïga retrace the journey of generational awareness.

Some kind of symbol. A large mural, in tribute to George Floyd, a 46-year-old black American who died on 25 May when he was arrested by a white policeman, and to Adama Traoré, who died at the age of 24 on the floor of the "caserne de Persan" (Val-d'Oise) following an arrest in 2016, was painted at the beginning of the week on the façade of a building in the 10th arrondissement of Paris. Close by, the Adama Committee organized a press conference on Tuesday. Words, demands and the announcement of a new march to fight against police violence. It takes place this Saturday in the capital, from the Place de la République to the Place de l'Opéra. The organizers dream of seeing a huge crowd come together. This demonstration comes at the heart of a tense period. Young people are demanding answers and action, while many police officers feel that the Minister of the Interior is letting his troops down in the face of the scolding.

In the street, we will find associations, politicians and many people. Adèle Haenel and Aïssa Maïga will be there. Not a first. They were already present on June 2nd at the rally in front of the Paris high court. The actresses didn't really know each other before the last César ceremony, marked by the speech of one and the shattering departure of the other. Since then, they have never left each other. Both describe the moment as a "turning point". The fights converge.

When the idea of a cross-exchange came on the table to put words to their commitments, they did not hesitate. On Thursday, in a roadstead near Belleville, Adèle Haenel arrived first, followed by Aïssa Maïga. They are not of the same generation, the journeys and paths are different. The styles too. The one who got up at the announcement of the prize awarded to Polanski goes up and down, talks with her body. The one who, at the same ceremony, invited to count the black people in the room appears calmer, stays seated on her chair, speaks in a low voice. Adèle Haenel and Aïssa Maïga complement each other.

From where are you speaking?

Adèle Haenel: I speak from my personal political background, rooted in feminism, a background that is shaken by the worldwide movement around police violence and by the French movement around the Adama Committee. I would say that taking charge of my own history has given me the ability to deal with other broader issues that do not immediately affect me. I'm talking about a kind of political awakening. This desire to show my support for the families of the victims, for the political movement against racism and police violence in France, and for the actors who take a stand. I'm thinking of Omar Sy, Camélia Jordana and you, Aïssa.

Aïssa Maïga: This intersectional awakening evoked by Adèle is a place where I have been for a long time without necessarily being able to name it. For a long time, the racial question in cinema was so pervasive in my life that it cannibalized everything else. I felt that it was less difficult to be a woman, in a world that discriminates women, than it was to be a black woman. The work done by Afrofeminists in France and abroad put the words in my mouth that I didn't have because I didn't have that heritage. I am speaking from a place that is on the move and that is not made up of certainties, that is made of interrogations, especially about the fact that I can implement changes on my own scale. And I'm also speaking from a place that is purely civic and is tinged with various influences. I didn't grow up in a poor suburb, I didn't live in financial precariousness, I come from a rather intellectual middle class, it gave me certain tools, and yet I haven't escaped this very French thing, a soft racism, rarely seen but which is haunting... because it's omnipresent.

Why did you get involved with the Adama Committee?

A.M.: Because this is a fight for justice. It was Assa Traoré who came to meet me during the release of the collective book Noire n'est pas mon métier ("Black is not my job"). I knew her from afar, I knew her struggle, and she appeared. The support became obvious and it has really taken shape in the last few months. I was immediately impressed by this woman, her quiet strength, and this ability to forge a bond, to think of her family drama in political terms. Her voice matters. She's not just an icon: she allows a movement to emerge.

A.H.: For me, it's even more recent, I had to go through a problem that was going through me, that involved my body in discrimination in order to mingle with other injustices. I was listening to what Assa Traoré was saying and I was struck by her determination and intelligence. But it is only very recently that I also became physically aware that I could not fail to support this woman and the whole fight against police violence and racism, in the same way that I am taking up the fight for feminism and against sexual violence. I can't have it two-tiered.

On June 2nd, more than 20,000 people gathered in front of the High Court of Paris, at the request of the Adama Committee. An unprecedented turnout, with many young people, why?

A.M.: The Adama Committee saw very well the link between George Floyd's drama and their own. The death of Adama Traoré, choked under three gendarmes, was materialized before our eyes with the unbearable images of Floyd's death. The French youth who look at these images cannot fail to make the connection, it is obvious. There is also a form of accessible activism that is developing via social networks. Activists will involve others through simple, accessible sentences: if you are not a POC, you are still involved, it is your responsibility to listen and take an active part, at your level, in the fight for equality. There is also the idea that we need to establish a link between police violence, the racism that can be found in other social spaces, the issue of gender equality, the environment, and the urgency of dealing with these problems now. There is also a form of anxiety among young people: they are told that in fifty years' time there will be no more water. And finally the feeling of injustice, which is omnipresent and linked to the circulation of images on social networks. Police violence follows one after the other, and this creates an accumulation effect. It is not just a dogmatic political vision, but a reality that is lived or perceived as real.

A.H.: There is a turning point in the effectiveness of the movement as well. This feeling carried by Assa Traoré that we are powerful. It's not just ideas that go around the world, it's ideas that make the world happen. It gives hope and responsibility to a whole generation.

During Aïssa's speech at the Césars, in which she confronts the profession with the near-invisibility of actors, filmmakers and producers from French overseas territories and African and Asian immigrants in French cinema, you are in the room, Adèle. You don't know each other yet. Do you understand her speech immediately?

A.H.: It's obvious, but it's not immediate, it takes a little time to understand the extent of the racist mechanism when you, yourself, haven't been forced to see how it works. I was brought back to particular assignments, but not to this one. So it takes a long time before it becomes unbearable evidence. When Aïssa takes the floor, it's courageous because the room is very cold and it's making it even colder. I thought it was funny and I thought "finally, something political is happening".

Did you both understand that people find it violent to count black people in the room, and even that they might find it paradoxical to split the audience?

A.M.: Counting isn't splitting, it's measuring the gap between us and equality. When it comes to inequality, to be blind to color is to be blind to the social burdens that come from our history and the imagination that flows from it. I am fighting for art and culture to deconstruct racial fictions. In our field, cinema, there is a tendency to believe that when a few exceptions appear, the problem of racial discrimination is solved. I do not think that my presence, that of Omar Sy, Ladj Ly or Frédéric Chau, Leïla Bekhti, for example, however gifted they may be, exonerates French cinema from an examination of conscience. There is always an over-representation of people perceived as non-white in roles with negative connotations - and it's not me saying this, it's the CSA, through its diversity barometer. There are still too few opportunities for younger people, who today in 2020 deplore what I deplored when I was starting out. Still too few non-whites behind the camera and almost no one in decision-making positions. I started this job when I was 20 years old. I am 45. A generation, not a few exceptions, should have risen. It hasn't. And it's unbearable as a citizen, a mother and an artist.

At the César ceremony, I deliberately used a inflammable symbol. If we refuse to measure differences in access to opportunities in terms of racial discrimination, perhaps we are accepting the status quo. Today, we need concrete action by decision-makers and numerical targets in order to measure progress. A few personal successes, however brilliant they may be, cannot justify the violence of large-scale unequal treatment.

A.H.: The substance of what Aïssa said to the César is relevant, it speaks to the moment, and being shocking has the virtue of awakening. The criticisms that followed were "I agree but"... In fact, it means that even when the substance is right, the form is never the right one. It's a form of censorship, there are people who have the right to speak and others who don't.

A.M.: Allowing oneself to express anger head-on is taboo because we are actresses and we are supposed to preserve the desire that others project on us. And also because it highlights the precarious nature of this profession: are you able to overcome your fear, to express your opinion, with the risk of losing something?

A.H.: From my point of view, that of a white woman - forgive me for putting myself in this position, but it's still unfortunately an assignment - I see that when I spoke about what happened to me personally, I received a lot of support, especially from people who are not especially on our side. However, as soon as I spoke up, politically, to say that giving the prize to a rapist fleeing from justice was an insult, all of a sudden I was really overstepping what I was entitled to do, what I could interfere in...

Do you think there's a "white privilege"?

A.M.: Words are so tricky...

A.H.: When Virginie Despentes uses the term "white privilege", it's a bit related to Aïssa's gesture when she counts the black people in the room. It's a question of pointing out, by calling up words that should be those of the past, the gap between the evolution of universalist ideals and the facts of manifest exclusion at work. Provocation points out this flaw and invites us to close it.

Is there state racism?

A.M.: I don't know about "state" racism, it would have to be written into the laws to say that. The right word is systemic: it means that there is something that does not allow for real equality, something in the established rules that allows a small number of people to discriminate without being worried. What also raises the question is the inertia of the state in the face of the continuation of systemic inequalities.

From what you say, we are at a turning point in the struggle against racial, gender, social and other forms of discrimination...

A.M.: I felt the turning point in 2018 with #MeToo, Time's Up, and when I saw all these women from such diverse backgrounds (in the streets) after Trump's election. It was an image I had never seen before in my generation. It was in the United States, and yet something happened to me in France, because I had been dreaming of this convergence for a long time. I'm not here to defend my chapel. I'm not going to be satisfied with a breakthrough if blacks have more roles while Arabs and Asians are still in a degraded situation in French cinema. The convergence I'm talking about didn't quite take place at the time of #MeToo, which quickly became a white women's movement in my eyes. In French cinema, there is also the "50-50 for 2020" movement [collective for parity and inclusion founded in 2018, editor's note] that I saw coming like the guerrilla movement we had been waiting for for a long time, pragmatic, quick, positively impatient, very constructive. The work done in favor of parity is colossal. On the other hand, I regret that diversity is the next program. But it cannot be the next program for me, that is the mistake. I've talked about it very openly, and frankly in a fairly relaxed way with some of them.

A.H.: Much more relaxed than I was, by the way!

A.M.: And then I said to myself that the battles are progressing on different levels and that we're going to have to find some kind of alignment. The fight for women's rights is not just a women's issue, it's a men's issue, just as the fight against racism is not just about POC. And it wasn't until 2020 and the murder of George Floyd that there were those voices, especially white voices, that said, "This is my problem too." Including in France, where this awakening of consciousness is made possible by the work done by the families of victims of police violence.

A.H.: In my political journey so far, I had forgotten to understand the places where I am not just in a situation of domination. I am also, as a white woman who is not in a precarious position, in a dominant position in certain aspects. Understanding that, feeling that, is essential. My political agenda was focused on feminism, and I didn't realize that it was implicitly white feminism, unintentionally excluding. What Aïssa says seems fundamental to me: the agenda that would order one cause after another is not conceivable and leads to inertia. It leagues us against each other in identity issues that are sterile, since they reiterate the terms of oppression. This is a major issue in the effectiveness of political struggles: how can we mobilize without reiterating the categorization we are fighting against? This implies understanding that there is a deep articulation between all systems of domination and that there is a need to defend these causes in a cross-cutting manner.

Aïssa's speech on June 2nd, during the demonstration initiated by the Adama Committee, called for a fair, dignified and positive representation of minorities in the media. But who can judge what is dignified and fair? Only the ones who are affected ?

A.H.: Today, in France, female characters in films are implicitly white women: I have a much wider range of possible jobs than that offered to a black actress. But in my field of so-called universal women, very often, women are offered satellite roles around male characters. These roles take up what is considered to be the normal white female nature, of restraint and reification. What appears natural here is a cultural construction of identity that is done precisely through stories. This is one of the reasons why the political stakes of representations in the cinema are so important.

Is this a criterion for assessing or rejecting a work? What should be done with existing works that have been reassessed as problematic?

A.H.: Works must be recontextualized. They are not created out of nowhere, out of time. Let's question them! That doesn't mean that we stop watching them, but that we ask ourselves what their political substratum is and what they convey. Questioning representations is a sign of vitality. And that does not mean that we would no longer have the right to see these works.

A.M.: With this waltz of statues of slavery figures in the United States or in the French overseas departments at the moment, the citizens gives their answer. Either the work must be contextualized, in a museum or in a place with a historical explanatory note, or it must stand out.

Is it women, more willingly than men, who carry this convergence of fights ?

A.M.: I feel a change in the scale of our lives, a major turning point in the way we perceive each other and allow ourselves to hybridize in these battles. Regarding the massive presence of women from cinema in front of the High Court on June 2, I wonder. In particular about my own capacity to build bridges... while guaranteeing the visibility of the fights against discrimination against women or POC. How do we ensure that the fight against discrimination, for equality and equity, is as visible as the rest? I am not at all sure how to do this. But it has to be done. When, the day after the César, I received a text message from Adèle, even though we don't know each other, and she writes to me to say "I heard you. I'm here. Let's meet", it can be as simple as that.

Why did you send that text?

A.H.: Because of the solitude in this room. And the brave gesture of saying what she said on stage. We'd met the same evening and maybe I hadn't caught the moment, I was captivated by our own event... That is, what had happened after we'd, let's say..., gone to get our coats a bit earlier in the dressing room... (Aïssa Maïga laughs) And I thought, let's not forget the constructed gesture, the political intentionality of Aïssa in there. I wanted to get closer to her courage. So I think that we shouldn't talk about masculinity by saying "men", that we should consider masculinity as a field of organization of power with its own complexities, and its intersectional repercussions. I refer to Angela Davis' book, Women, Race & Class, on the issue of the difficult articulation between the civil rights movement in the United States and the emerging white feminist movements where there was a lot of racism. Why don't we think of ourselves as spontaneous and necessary allies between categories of discrimination, racial, social and gendered? We need to take the history of this division seriously in order to work on it and overcome it. As Assa Traoré does in an ultra-intelligent way when she says "Whatever your religion, your sexual orientation, wherever you come from, whatever your skin color". It is an invitation to self-criticism of our own movement. This is my discovery at the beginning of this year: the self-criticism of my history as a white feminist.

When you get up during the César, is it thoughtful or impulsive?

A.H.: This award was a claim to the right to do whatever you want as long as you are at the top. That is to say: rich white men who don't feel concerned when we talk about violence. What it means beyond sexual violence is that there are people to whom repressive laws do not apply. It's as if the police and the laws shouldn't act against them, but around them... And that's what you feel in that moment in the room. What happened on César night was a dissolution of the status quo. Now it's either you stay in the room or you don't stay in the room.

A.M.: And it was important to be there at the César, because I read a lot about boycotting that evening, but for me there was no question of backing out. A boycott is not just staying at home behind your television, not being there without anyone really noticing. It was important to say that the home of cinema is also our home, our space, our place of expression. We are in a position to speak out and for that to have the virtue of provoking discussion. When that person wins that award, it's the time of the turkey, where someone praises the rapist grandfather, when everyone knows. And you're breathless, you can't move, time becomes elastic, everything is extremely heavy, it's unreal. You enter another dimension. And the fact that a person manages to regain possession of time, to become master of their time and master of their body by standing up and saying no, it put oxygen back in, it woke us up. Adèle and I looked at each other two or three times during the evening, we knew we were together. There was something like a physical experience. We boarded the ship together.

We're spotting the allies.

A.M.: That's right. And time returned to normal when Adèle, Céline Sciamma and others, including me, got up. It was a coherent political gesture in which many people recognized themselves.

Do you think that your political positions, formalized at the César, can have an impact on your career?

A.M.: The question is how do you break a family secret? Festen is one of my favorite films. (Laughs) I wasn't born at the time of the 2020 César, it's the result of a personal journey and a legacy. Others before me have spoken, for example Luc Saint-Eloy and Calixthe Beyala on the same issues at the Césars in 2000. When Canal + and the César invited me to come and give an award, I said "yes, but I want complete freedom". Blowing up a family secret is a movement for self-liberation, it's an essential meeting with yourself. Choosing to be on the side of silence, of the status quo and therefore of injustices with full knowledge of the facts is something I was quite incapable of doing. The consequences for one's profession are not that one doesn't care, but spitting out what one has to say is a top priority. The question of what it is going to cost behind it is resolved by the feeling of freeing the word, provoking debate, making a generational contribution to the fight for equality, which in essence concerns us all. I have an appointment with myself around 60, 65, the age when my children will be about the same age as I am today. There is something about transmission. I want to be able to look at myself in the mirror. I don't want to tell myself that I haven't taken advantage of my little privilege of being a POC exception in French cinema to the detriment of all those young people I meet on the street, who aren't white and who say to me with fear in their stomachs, "Do you think I can still do this job?"

What about you, Adèle?

A.H.: The message that was sent to me very clearly by a casting director is that I will never work again. Obviously, this person was very sure of himself, since he wrote it in print capital letters about a dozen times. What do you say when you ask for respect and silence? They say, "Don't speak out politically because it's not your role". But also: "Don't take the lead artistically either because you're an actress, you have to follow the genius of your director". This whole structure is part of this culture where you shouldn't listen to yourself but to submit. I don't know what the consequences will be for my job. What is certain is that I will never regret it. We did something that night that freed the voices of a lot of people. That is worth much more than all the threats to my career, which in any case is always fragile, because it is a precarious environment. If I totally respected the rules and said, "Yes, yes, you have to separate the man from the artist", that wouldn't stop me from being able to get out of the game. It's as much about inventing one's life as trying to open up the future.

Written by Cécile Daumas , Rachid Laïreche and Sandra Onana. Photo by Lucile Boiron

#adèle haenel #aïssa maïga #adele haenel #aissa maiga #portrait of a lady on fire #that was a very great read #can i just say i gasped when aïssa mentioned Festen #it's an incredible movie !!!#portrait de la jeune fille en feu #libération #sometimes i translate things #long text #black lives matter #blm

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galemalio · 5 years

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Mindful Consumption of Hazbin Hotel’s vodoo Content

There is no such thing as Voodoo; it is a silly lie invented by you whites to injure us. —William Seabrook, The Magic Island

(Article and Study Link Sources will be in the reblogs because Tumblr doesn’t let linked posts appear)

First of all, I’m not writing this as a Vodou practitioner. Or as a Creole POC. I’m simply an outsider making an effort to educate herself for mindful consumption of Hazbin Hotel content and avoid perpetuating misrepresentation of a religion.

(Image: Alastor with Vodou symbols and Vodou-inspired symbols behind him)

The portrayed dark magic of Hazbin Hotel’s Alastor is heavily themed with Hollywood Voodoo or the misrepresentation of Vodou in film. This can also apply with Dr. Facilier in “The Princess and the Frog.” Both characters are from New Orleans [18], [19] where Louisiana Vodou Vaudou is practiced. Both are therefore assumed to practice an evil version of said religion.

During my consumption of Hazbin Hotel content, someone once pointed out the worrying factor of Alastor’s magic abilities identified as Hollywood Voodoo.

According to my research, Hollywood Voodoo is a film outlet of “Imagined Voodoo” or the age-old White anxieties on Black people.

What Is Vodou?

(Photo taken from Huffpost)

Haitian Vodou is a religion of African descendants brought as slaves to the French colony of Haiti. It combines west and west central African religions with Native American and European cultural and religious elements.[1]

It is also known as Vodoo, Vodoun, Vudu and Vudun. But to avoid confusion, the term “Vodou” will be used consistently throughout this post when referring to the religion.

Slaves from Haiti are brought to New Orleans where it infused with its dominant religion, Catholicism. The Vodou-Catholicism hybrid religion is sometimes referred to as New Orleans Vodou.[2]

(Photo provided by Cheryl Gerber)

All Vodou rituals are healing rituals. It's focused on the celebration of ancestral spirits (Lwa or Loa) through feasting, singing and ecstatic dance rituals to heal ailments and restore social bonds.[1]

Vodou practitioners believe of the visible world connected to the invisible world that can be transitioned to through Death. In the invisible world, the Lwa watch over and inspire us. The Lwa can be archetypes of human personalities such as Ogun the Warrior or predecessors. There is also the Bondye or their version of the supreme God who is loving but distant from individual human concerns. [3]

But despite this, a majority of foreigners synonimize “voodoo” with Haitian “black magic” or “sorcery.”[4]

What is Imagined Voodoo?

A Harvard study termed "Imagined Voodoo" to refer to the imagined religion and magical system of the American brain linked by the following White anxieties:

Black uprising

Black fetishization

Intermarriages that could lead to the dissolution of the White race

All under the guise of history or harmless entertainment, it negatively affects Black religiosity and in general, Black subjects. Unless we arm ourselves with information to prevent its perpetuation through us.

Alastor’s Themes and Voodoo Stereotypes

Stereotypes are often used in stories to save time on informing the audience through widely held and fixed oversimplified assumptions. The following Voodoo stereotypes are present in Alastor’s character traits and themes.

His Roots

According to Alastor’s Wikia page, he is part Creole.[20] In New Orleans, the term can refer to many kinds of people. In early history, "Creole" is a term for:

A slave born in the New World[5]

A free Person of Color[5]

People of Mixed Heritage[5]

Later on, White French and Spanish people residing in New Orleans adopted the term to differentiate themselves from Americans whom they found greedy and ambitious.[5]

A Creole person can be White, a POC or of mixed race from different places such as Haiti and Louisiana.

The team behind Hazbin Hotel may have made Alastor part Creole in order to avoid religion appropriation. However, Vodou is not an exclusive religion. [6] (EDIT: Vodou is an exclusive religion.) And even if they want to represent mixed Creole people, pairing Alastor with Hollywood Voodoo may not be a good way to do it.

Vodou practitioners today are targets of hate crime, especially in Haiti (sacred mapou trees are regular targets of vandalism and arson, worshippers risk harassment and violence, with lynchings not unheard of).[7] If the media continues to portray Vodou as evil, it may have a role in perpetuating the hate.

(Image of a Vodou ceremony from a video of The Guardian)

Depicted As Evil Magic

In America and Caribbean, Vodou was first practiced by slaves of African descent. Their religion was dismissed as superstition, their priests as witch doctors and their God and Lwa were denounced as evil. [3]

“They were treated as cattle. As animals to be bought and sold; worth nothing more than a cow. Often less,” anthropologist Ira Lowenthal stated.[7]

“Vodou is the response to that. Vodou says ‘no, I’m not a cow. Cows cannot dance, cows do not sing. Cows cannot become God. Not only am I a human being – I’m considerably more human than you. Watch me create divinity in this world you have given me that is so ugly and so hard. Watch me become God in front of your eyes.’”[7]

During the Haitian Revolution, many of the slaves were Voodooists and some of their military leaders were priests who inspired and organized them to fight for freedom. The imagery and vocabulary of Vodou became threatening to European and American colonies and was then brutally repressed. [3]

(Image from Lisapo Ya Kama)

Years later, Hollywood Voodoo is rooted in racism and acts as an outlet for White anxiety of Black vengeance. One example is the movie, “The Skeleton Key” where Black hoodoo practitioners (who had been lynched) stole the bodies and identities of White people for years.

For Alastor to continue using Hollywood Voodoo themed magic may continue the misinformation of Vodou by inspiring baseless fear and horror.

Voodoo Dolls and Pins

Voodoo dolls are universally associated with Hollywood voodoo and therefore, Vodou. But voodoo dolls are unheard of in the original Haitian Vodou.

In reality, they were inspired from the "poppet" of European witchcraft after an American writer heard Vodou is a witchcraft [8]. This American writer is most likely Victor Hugo Halperin where voodoo dolls first appeared in White Zombie (1932) [9].

Dolls are used in Vodou but only to represent Lwa and Bondye, sometimes the dolls are nailed on graves and altars, in order for the practitioners to communicate with them. The dolls also act as lucky charms and are not used to curse or cause harm with pins. [10], [21]

Cannibalism

(Screenshot of Alastor the Deer Demon eating a deer)

On February 13, 1864, 4 men and 4 women were executed for abducting, murdering and cannibalizing a 12-year-old girl by Fabre Geffrad, Haiti's reformist president, who wished to make an example out of the 8 killers labelled as vodouists and leave the backwardness of its African past and its folk religion. With Haiti claiming their independence, the Westerns' view on Vodou was proof that the "black republic '' cannot claim to be civilized.[11]

No transcripts of the trial survive. The most detailed account of the crime was written by Sir Spenser St John, the British charge d'affaires in Port-au-Prince -the place nearby the village where the murder happened. It was his account that defined Haiti as a place where ritual murder and cannibalism were common and often goes unpunished.[11]

(An artist’s engraving of the 8 “voodoo” practitioners found guilty of the murder and cannibalism of the 12-year-old Claircine from the Smithsonian Magazine.)

However, there was no other information supporting St. John's claim that cannibalism is a norm for 19th century Haiti. The only two reports of cannibalism provided was from a French priest in 1870s and a white Dominican ten years later. Both have no evidence and both are suspected from their claim that they have penetrated secret ceremonies wearing blackface -if they have been undetected. However, they have influenced Victorian writers who have never visited Haiti.[11]

In the 19th century, American Jesuit missionary, Joseph W. Williams claims that sexual arousal from voodoo "orgies" causes devolution to lower animal states that causes them to cannibalize in an act of sexualized violence.[1]

In Joseph Murphy's psychoanalysis, Imagined Voodoo allows White people to project their most disturbing desires onto a cultural Other.[13]

"The erotic and ecstatic elements in African-derived religions are selected and transformed into images of unrestraint and become vehicles for white sexual and aggressive fantasies... What is ‘dark’ and ‘black’ within the white psyche is projected onto what is ‘dark’ and ‘black’ in the social environment."[13]

Because of the accusations of cannibalism, Vodou is seen as savage. Alastor is hinted to be cannibalistic (as seen by a speed drawing of him, a deer demon, eating a deer).[12] To continue to associate cannibalism with voodoo practice may continue the harm of misinformation.

Vodou Symbols

When Alastor uses magic, Vodou symbols or veves would sometimes appear.

In Vodou, different veves are used depending on the lwa or spirits the practitioners desired to invoke.

(Veve image from Catherine Beyer)

Damballah-Wedo is believed by the Vodou practitioners as the Sky Father and primordial creator of all life. He is depicted as a snake or serpent and is seen as a loving father of the world whose presence brings peace and harmony. [23]

(Veve image from Catherine Beyer)

A part of a veve in the screenshot is from the veve for Papa Legba -the gatekeeper of the spirt world. He is associated with the sun and is seen as a life-giver that transfers the power of Bondye to the living world. Rituals are started by praying to Legba to open the gates so that they can connect to the other lwas. [23]

The veve above is the veve of Ayizan. Ayizan is the lwa of commerce and herbal healing. She is associated with love and Vodou rites of initiation. Ayizan is believed to be the first archetypal mambo (priestess) and the protector of religious ceremonies.[14]

(Veve Image from ErzulieRedEyesArtAndSpirit)

The veve above is taken from the veve of Papa Loko. He is believed to be the first Vodou priest. His name has nothing to do with the American (EDIT: Spanish) slang word "loco" meaning crazy. Papa Loko is a revered knowledgeable spirit who offers spiritual guidance to those seeking formal initiation into Vodou.[15]

Met Kalfou is the master of the Crossroads. He is the crossroads where magic manifests regardless of which lwa is using magic for. He allows it to travel without judgement.[16]

Met Kalfou is often mistaken as some kind of demon or evil. He is believed to be the force through which all magic flows, be it good or ill. Met Kalfou is also the spirit of luck. As a manifestation of crossroads, he can see multiple outcomes of a situation. [16]

Santa Muerte is believed to be the personification of death itself.[17]

Using veves to portray evil when it incorrectly relates to what they symbolize can result in misinformation. Even if only parts of the veve are taken to be used to portray malice, it doesn’t change the fact that they still came from sacred symbols.

Is Alastor a Hoodoo Practitioner?

(Photo: Image of Hoodoo Candles from Wikipedia)

Hoodoo is based heavily on folk magic. It is not a religion. Although their beliefs have elements of African and European religions. Its tradition emphasizes on personal magical power with the intention to improve daily lives. Its a combination of African practices and beliefs and American Indian botanical knowledge and European folklore. It’s heavily practiced in the Southern US.[22]

Unlike Vodou, they have no designated priests or priestesses and no difference between initiates and laity. Hoodoo spells are commonly accompanied with Biblical text but are not performed in Jesus’ name. It uses tools, spells, formulas, methods, techniques. Tools can be herbs, roots, minerals, animal parts and personal possessions.[22]

Alastor MAYBE a hodoo practitioner. But there are possible problems of associating an occult of a minority as a tool of evil. It might be best if Alastor is only depicted using deer-radio-themed dark magic instead.

In Short...

Misrepresentation of Vodou has its roots on White fear of Black retribution as well as White “othering” and projecting of taboo concepts such as fetishization and cannibalism. This results in stigmatization of Black topics and Vodou practitioners. The continuation of Hollywood Voodoo plays a role in perpetuating its misrepresentation. However, informing ourselves may stop the perpetuation in us.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #hollywood voodoo #vodou #voodoo #hollywood racism #lynching tw #racism tw

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jauneda1 · 3 years

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ANNIHILATION AU Remake

First Night part 1

TIME 19:45: Jaune was holding a unconscious Ruby Rose Bridal style running from the many horrors behind him. People attack other people they're eating other people Jaune couldn't even call them human anymore. "When did it get this bad."

Time 4:25: Jaune had sprung awake he didn't know why he woke up earlier then he would. So might as well do his morning routine then check up on any homework. After his run and endurance training, he moved to sword training and noticed that quite a few students where in the medical ward. He heard it started 2 weeks that a new form of Flu is going around students are required to wear mask and gloves, and to keep distance from each other during class. It was new for everyone but it made classes even more difficult to sit through especially Oobleck's class.

Time 10:37: Jaune was sitting in the left hand corner he had laid claim on after the social distancing which in all honesty didn't matter. It was only his team, Rwby, Cfvy, and what's left of Crdl. They're teammate Sky Lark caught the new flu going around. They where all in Combat class with Primary teacher Glynda Goodwitch and secondary teacher Raven Branwen. Jaune was going to fight Yang which if where gonna be honest is cruel and unusual punishment because Jaune may be better then he was when he came to Beacon. That doesn't mean shit when you gotta 1v1 the temptress/bully/sexist girl at Beacon outside of her mom and her sick boots dominating personality. Oh Jaune knew this was gonna hurt so good depending on how hard she hit him

Yang: "Okay Lady killer you ready to get down and dirty?"

Jaune: "You have no idea- I mean I'm ready when you are."

Jaune Arc is a slight masochist.

Before the two could get down to it everyone in the rooms Scroll's went off a emergency broadcast stating that mass violence has broken out in the city of Vale along with Rioting and mass cannibalism. Both teachers where unsure of what to do untill over the loud speaker Professor Ozpin spoke in a frantic and rushed voice announcing that they're fellow students who where sick in the medical ward are now up and attacking fellow students. Please move back to your dorms and wait for further instructions. We are looking towards evacuating the students if we are unable to contain the situation. Just as that was said three students ran into the room and closed the door behind them. Trying to hold back whatever chased them in here.

As everyone was trying to figure out what to do because if everything was true then how where they gonna get out of the combat room. Raven then spoke about how the combat room leads into the outside pavilion for larger scale battles. That pavilion leads towards the courtyard then the dorms.

Time 16:45: Everyone is tired and defeated sitting inside team Rwby's dorm. With Ms.Branwen and Goodwitch in tow. The adults where completely unable to even begin to explain what's going on the only people who made it out of combat class. Are team Rwby without Yang and Ruby. Jnpr, missing Jaune. All of team Cfvy with the exception of Yatsuhashi. Sadly all of team Crdl, the students that ran into there combat class. They where attacked they all saw Sky Lark attack his own team leader with a bite to the jugular. This sent a sense absolutely sorrow and fear in everyone present. No one saw or really believed that this was serious. Jaune had ran forward and bashed Sky off of Cardin but this did nothing to help the dying student. Sky was very violent to Jaune rushing him and hitting his shield. Unable to force Jaune back, so Jaune simply pushed him off until his own teammate Russell hit him in the side of the head with the butt of his weapon. This knocked the block off of Sky but he still shot up and tackled Russell into a door that was closed but when the two went through they where surrounded by infected who torn Sky apart and began to flood the ballroom. Jaune was completely cut off from everyone. He had no choice but to push past them if possible.

Jaune, Yang, and Ruby where completely cut off from the group and right now Jaune was holding off a doorway of atleast 4 infected. As the two sister got the door open he knew that he might not be able to run over to them with them right behind him. Then the pain shot through Jaune like a gun shot. One of the infected had fell down got Jaune on the side. Right above the hip. He let out a scream and this caused them both to turn around Ruby scream out to him and Jaune yelling back to them his pleas telling them to go begin to die out. The infected is still tearing into his side. Yang told Ruby to stay here as she gets to work helping Jaune killing the 3 on his shield then grabbing the one biting him off. Jaune right at this moment was losing a lot of blood but they needed to get out of there.

Time 20:25: Jaune,Yang and Ruby got back to the group but now they're faces with a new hardship Jaune infection and the evacuation. They where told that in the next thirty minutes they needed to be at the launch pad for evacuation. The efforts to save Beacon academy are pointless people in the city still seem to be holding out at the hospital and police station. Also city hall seems to be still standing but no confirmation on the survivors the military corporation URA (United Remnant Army) is sending in it's mercenaries to help in evacuating and containing this phenomenon. Everyone knew that Jaune being bitten was a liability but for some reason Jaune hasn't turned. Everyone that has turned into one of the infected it happened in mere seconds after being bitten. The only exception is when the brain is damaged. In Russell's case his head slammed up against a door and the concrete floor before he was devoured. While Cardin got back up and started to attack the living that's how they lost Yatsuhashi.

They needed to know if it was okay to push forward with Jaune being infected and now from what they have heard. They're seems to be a mutation in some infected they're become faster and more violent. Being able to run and jump several meters in the air to catch fleeing pray. Do they leave they're friend or bring him along?

End off Ch 1 part 1

#jaune arc #rwby fanfiction #rwby #yang xiao long #ruby rose #raven branwen #zombie #major character injury #major character death

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gingermcl · 3 years

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In 1932 and 1933, millions of Ukrainians were killed in the Holodomor, a man-made famine engineered by the Soviet government of Joseph Stalin. The primary victims of the Holodomor were rural farmers and villagers, who made up roughly 80 percent of Ukraine's population in the 1930s. Holomodor means which means “death inflicted by starvation.” While it is impossible to determine the precise number of victims of the Ukrainian genocide, most estimates by scholars range from roughly 3.5 million to 7 million. The most detailed demographic studies estimate the death toll at 3.9 million.

In the aftermath of World War I and the overthrow of the Russian monarchy in 1917, the Ukraine set up a provisional government, declaring itself the independent Ukrainian People's Republic in January 1918. They fought the Bolshevik Red Army for three years (1918-1921) and ultimately lost the fight for independence.

The bulk of Ukrainian land was forcibly incorporated into the Soviet Union; by 1922 the Ukraine had become the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic (UkrSSR). The Soviet Union sanctioned the requisition of all surplus agricultural products from the rural population, resulting in economic collapse.

To prevent "Ukrainian national counterrevolution," Stalin initiated mass-scale tyrannical repression through widespread intimidation, arrests, and imprisonment. Thousands of Ukrainian intellectuals, church leaders, and Ukrainian Communist Party members who had supported pro-Ukrainian policies were executed by the Soviet regime.

As famine escalated, growing numbers of farmers left their villages in search of food outside of Ukraine. Directives sent by Stalin and Molotov (Stalin's closest collaborator) in January of 1933 prevented them from leaving, effectively sealing the borders of Ukraine.

To further ensure that Ukrainian farmers did not leave their villages to seek food in the cities, the Soviet government started a system of internal passports, which were denied to farmers so they could not travel or obtain a train ticket without official permission.

To ensure these new laws were strictly enforced, groups of "activists" organized by the Communist Party were dispatched to the countryside.

These brigades entered the villages and made the most thorough searches of the houses and barns of every peasant. They dug up the earth and broke into the walls of buildings and stoves in which the peasants tried to hide their last handfuls of food.

To escape death by starvation, people in the villages ate anything that was edible: grass, acorns, even cats and dogs. Contemporary Soviet police archives contain descriptions of the immense suffering and despair of Ukrainian farmers, including instances of lawlessness, theft, lynching, and even cannibalism.

At the height of the Holodomor in June of 1933, Ukrainians were dying at a rate of 28,000 people per day. Around 3.9 million Ukrainians died during the Holodomor of 1932-33 (as established in a 2015 study by a team of demographers from the Ukrainian Institute of Demographic and Social Studies, and the University of North Carolina-Chapel Hill).

While Ukrainians were dying, the Soviet state extracted 4.27 million tons of grain from Ukraine in 1932, enough to feed at least 12 million people for an entire year. Soviet records show that in January of 1933, there were enough grain reserves in the USSR to feed well over 10 million people. The government could have organized famine relief and could have accepted help from outside of the USSR. Moscow rejected foreign aid and denounced those who offered it, instead exporting Ukraine's grain and other foodstuffs abroad for cash.

Most historians, who have studied this period in Ukrainian history, have concluded that the Famine was deliberate and linked to a broader Soviet policy to subjugate the Ukrainian people. With the fall of the Soviet Union and the opening of Soviet government archives (including archives of the security services), researchers have been able to demonstrate that Soviet authorities undertook measures specifically in Ukraine with the knowledge that the result would be the deaths of millions of Ukrainians by starvation.

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magic-and-moonlit-wings · 4 years

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Chapter 55: Movie Night

Lots of quotes from the movie Lilo & Stitch ahead! Fewer quotes, but some, from Trolls and Frozen.

Bold italics are trollish, ~tildes~ indicate goblin.

Content warnings for this chapter: Swearing. Here we reach the story's first F-bomb.

Also, there is some talk between characters about the harshness of life in the Darklands, how Changelings are treated by the Gumm-Gumms, and mentions of cannibalism.

This was supposed to be a light-happy chapter that got feels-y at the end, but then it went and got all dark on me.

Oh, also-also, (Not) Enrique finds out Claire flirted with Jim a while ago and misinterprets what exactly happened between them, but that gets cleared up fast.

Becoming The Mask

Once again, Javier and Ophelia Nuñez were out for the evening, leaving Claire in charge of Enrique. Claire had gotten permission to invite "some friends" over to watch movies. Jim and Toby arrived to find Mary and Darci already there – Jim suspected, like the time he'd 'babysat', that Claire had purposefully asked him to arrive after she knew her parents would be gone.

They set up piles of cushions and blankets on the floor between the couch and the TV. Jim propped the Amulet up on the coffee table they'd pushed to one side. Maybe some of the ghost Trollhunters would be interested in human movies.

"Finally get your fill of the touchy-feelies?" Enrique teased Jim, seeing how they were all seated separately. Jim snorted.

"Not hardly." He pulled the smaller Changeling in for a hug. "Humans just have different rules about casual touching, is all. Freezing to death's not really a concern in this climate."

"Wait, what?" said Toby, dropping the pillow he'd been holding. Jim looked up to see all the humans staring at him.

"Darklands thing," said Enrique easily. "Gets cold there."

"We'd sleep in piles," Jim explained. "I had a bit of a reputation for being … clingy."

"If you weren't good at finding food and soft stuff, we'd never've put up with ya." Enrique proved himself a liar by climbing onto Jim's shoulders instead of jumping back to the floor. He fluffed the hair on Jim's scalp. "Jimmy-boy got his first nickname for that."

"Shut up," said Jim playfully. "Anyway, humans get weird about touching around puberty. I can still hug Mom whenever I want, but Toby gets embarrassed if I hug him around other people, and Claire, Mary, and Darci haven't given me permission to touch them casually yet."

"… Did you … want permission?" asked Claire. "You, kinda, said you were uncomfortable with that, I thought."

"No, it was more wondering if you were flirting with me that felt weird," Jim assured her. "After that conversation I felt like it'd be awkward to bring up that I was open to hugging and such."

Jim thought he felt Enrique growl, to quietly to properly hear. His hand, still in Jim's hair, changed position so the tips of Enrique's claws were on Jim's scalp.

"When exactly did this happen?" Enrique asked.

"Claire kissed Jim on the cheek on his birthday and then Jim said he wasn't interested in dating her," said Mary.

"Also that I realized she might not have meant it in a flirty way and if I was misinterpreting things she could ignore what I was saying," Jim added. The claws retreated.

Claire looked away. "So what movie did we want to start with?"

"Lilo & Stitch!" exclaimed Darci, looking through the shelves. "I haven't watched this in forever!"

"That's a good one." Jim tilted his head to get Enrique back in his peripheral vision. "Enrique, have you seen it yet?"

"… Yeah."

"Isn't that the one that always makes you cry?" asked Toby.

"It's beautiful. Of course I cry."

Stitch was a constructed 'abomination', who shapeshifted to blend in, and his adopted family found out what he truly was and still wanted him. How could Jim be expected to keep his composure in the face of that?

"So, quick question," said Jim. "Is talking during the movie a crime, or is commentary what makes it a group activity?"

"Commentary," said all three girls together.

"Okay, good." Jim and Toby usually talked during movies, unless one or both of them were seeing it for the first time. Sometimes even then.

+=+

"Not guilty! My experiments are only theoretical, and completely within legal boundaries."

"We believe you actually created something."

"Created something? Ha! But that would be irresponsible, and, unethical. I would never, ever – make more than one."

"What is that monstrosity?"

"Monstrosity?! What you see before you is the first of a new species!"

"You have to wonder if she and Merlin ever had a talk like this," Enrique muttered in Jim's ear. Jim snickered.

"And as for that abomination … it is the flawed product of a deranged mind. It has no place among us."

Jim stopped laughing and cringed. He loved this movie a lot, but some of it stung.

+=+

"A quiet capture would require an understanding of 626 that we do not possess! Who, then, Mr Pleakley, would you send for his extraction?"

"… Does he have a brother? Close grandmother, perhaps?"

"Fun fact," said Darci, "in early drafts Stitch was a career criminal and Jumba was an old accomplice."

"Friendly cousin? Neighbour with a beard?"

+=+

"Surely the teacher won't notice I was late if he doesn't see me come in!" Claire narrated sarcastically.

+=+

"I'm sorry, Scrump!" Mary wailed, as Lilo ran back to retrieve the doll she'd angrily thrown aside.

+=+

"Let me illuminate to you the precarious situation in which you have found yourself. I am the one they call when things go wrong. And things have indeed gone wrong."

"As a cook, that kitchen horrifies me," said Jim.

+=+

"If you promise not to fight anymore, I promise not to yell at you – except on special occasions."

"Tuesdays and bank holidays would be good."

The entire group cracked up.

"How does kid Lilo's age even know what a bank holiday is?" said Claire. "I don't even know what a bank holiday is!"

"Maybe she saw it printed on a calendar?" said Toby.

+=+

A raindrop fell on Stitch's head. He fired his ray gun into the sky. It started raining, hard.

"Oh, no, I broke the sky!" Darci cried.

+=+

"Does it have to be this dog?"

"He survived getting hit by a truck, how much more sturdy and not-gonna-die do you want?" asked Jim.

"Yes. He's good. I can tell."

+=+

"I'm sorry I bit you. And pulled your hair. And punched you in the face."

Mary nudged Claire. "Remind you of anyone?"

Like sunflowers, everyone else popped up and turned towards them.

Claire blushed. "We got into a fight in first grade and for like two days we decided we didn't want to be friends anymore, then our moms made us say sorry."

"He will be irresistibly drawn to large cities, where he will back up sewers, reverse street signs, and steal everyone's left shoe."

"It's weird they get in trouble for everything but this," commented Enrique. "Human grown ups might not believe a dog stole a trike, but wouldn't they think Lilo did it? She's fought the other kid before."

"It's nice to live on an island with no large cities."

+=+

"It's not an angel, Lilo, I don't even think it's a dog!"

"Isn't that the rolling thing Draal can do?" said Toby.

"Yeah, more or less," said Jim. "I mean, I don't think Draal bites his feet – but maybe that's the trick."

"At least with those stick legs you've got," said Enrique. He curled into a ball and rolled in a circle around the group. "Face it, you're out of proportion for this move."

+=+

"626 was designed to be a monster. But now, there is nothing to destroy. You see, I never gave him a greater purpose. What must it be like, to have nothing? Not even memories to visit, in the middle of the night?"

"Now, this next bit I don't care for," said Jim. "The Ugly Duckling is a messed-up story."

"What've you got against The Ugly Duckling?" asked Mary.

"The blatant segregationist propaganda? 'A swan will never fit in with ducks and everyone is better off sticking with their own kind'. You don't even have to read it as a race metaphor. Between that and The Little Mermaid, I thought for while that Hans Christian Anderson was a Changeling writing cautionary tales about why we shouldn't get attached to humans."

"… Was he?" asked Claire.

"Probably not. I couldn't find any real evidence and the rest of his work doesn't match the pattern."

"Counterpoint," said Darci. "The Ugly Duckling is pro-integration. Everyone thought he was an ugly duckling because they didn't know what swans look like. If he'd grown up with ducks and swans around, they could've judged him for what he was instead of what he couldn't measure up to, and he might've had a happy childhood instead of only finding a community that accepted him as an adult."

Jim considered this, and nodded. "I guess I can see that, too."

+=+

"Heard you lost your job."

"Well, uh, actually, I just quit. That job. Because, you know, the hours are just not conducive to the challenges of raising a child –"

"Nani, no!" Jim begged. "I know almost nothing about Social Services but I'm pretty sure choosing to leave your only source of income looks worse to them than just losing it!"

"Thus far you have been adrift in the sheltered harbour of my patience; but I cannot ignore you being jobless. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly."

"And next time I see this dog, I expect it to be a model citizen. Capiche?"

"Uh … yes?"

"New job. Model citizen. Good day."

+=+

"So, we saw Cobra on the beach after all the tourists got scared off … D'you think he was just standing there watching them the whole time?" Mary wondered out loud after the surfing sequence.

+=+

"Until we meet again …"

Lilo was about to tell Stitch about her parents. Without thinking, Jim grabbed the remote – on the coffee table, next to the amulet – to fast forward.

"What are you doing?" Darci cried. "This is one of the big emotional turning points of the film!"

Jim paused it. "Sorry. Uh … Tobes and I usually skip this scene."

"I think I can handle it," Toby assured Jim. To the girls and Enrique, he explained, "My parents died in a storm when I was two. A cruise ship, not a car accident. I got kind of upset the first time we watched this as kids, and, we got in the habit fast forwarding this part. I think I'm okay with it now."

"You're sure?" asked Jim.

"I'm sure."

"Okay …" He rewound to the point where he'd started fast forwarding.

"That's us before. It was rainy, and they went for a drive. What happened to yours?"

Jim watched Toby more than the movie for the next few minutes.

"I'll remember you, though. I remember everyone that leaves."

"Do you remember them?" Claire asked quietly.

"Only the stuff Nana tells me." Toby shrugged, and readjusted the cushions he'd propped up his arms on. "I've seen lots of pictures. A couple home movies."

+=+

"Don't run. Don't make me shoot you. You were expensive. Yes, yes, that's it, come quietly."

"I'm … waiting."

"For what?"

"Family."

"Ah. You don't have one. I made you."

"Maybe … I could –"

"You were built to destroy. You can never belong."

Jim blinked fast to keep the tears back. He sniffed, and pulled the blankets more tightly around him.

+=+

"Okay, talk! I know you had something to do with this, now where's Lilo? Talk! I know you can."

"Claire?" said Mary. "You okay?"

Jim looked over. Claire's jaw was clenched, and her hands were tight on the blanket, and her eyes were huge and fixed on the screen, and she was shaking.

"Ah … maybe the little sib getting snatched by otherworldly forces wasn't the best movie choice," Enrique said. He reached out like he was about to go to Claire, then pulled back his hand and hunkered down where he was.

"LILO! She's a little girl this big, she has black hair and brown eyes, and she hangs around with that THING!"

"I'm. Fine," Claire insisted.

"You're sure?"

"We can just fast forward."

"I said I'm fine!"

"Okay …"

Mary and Darci each scooted their blanket and cushion piles closer to Claire's, bracketing her on either side. Jim tactfully retreated to the Nuñezes kitchen to microwave a few more bags of popcorn. Enrique went with him. They could still hear the TV.

"What? After all you put me through, you expect me to help you just like that? Just like that?!"

"Ih."

"Fine."

"Fine? You're doing what he says?"

"Ah, he is very persuasive."

"Is it normal to feel bad for her?" Enrique asked.

"I think so? It's an awkward situation for both of you." Jim selected the white cheddar flavour. "But it's not like there's an alternative. You're not a polymorph. And really, the only reason she's upset is because she found out."

The Nuñezes had the same microwave as the Lakes. Jim didn't find the popcorn setting especially useful for this brand of popcorn – it tended to burn a third of the kernels– so he used the timer instead.

"I never apologized to you for that, did I?" Jim asked.

"It wasn't all your fault."

"Still, I'm sorry for my part in getting you caught."

The Changelings got back to the living room in time to see the unfortunate tourist lose his ice cream for the third time.

+=+

"Does Stitch have to go in the ship?"

"Yes."

"Can Stitch say goodbye?"

"… Yes."

Like he always did during this scene, Jim cried. He let himself do it this time.

+=+

"Wait, how is Little Mermaid a cautionary tale?" asked Enrique during the credits. The camera panned over a photo of Stitch reading to a flock of ducklings. "For getting attached, I mean. I thought the moral of that one was to control yer temper and be careful who you made deals with?"

"Sure, the Disney version," said Jim. "They adapted it to make a more dramatic, less depressing story. And give the characters names. In the older version, the sea witch is actually a neutral character. The terms of the mermaid's transformation are that she's traded her tongue for legs, but walking on land hurts, and she'll become fully human if the prince marries her, but if he marries anybody else, she'll die."

"That doesn't sound neutral."

"Wait for it. The prince gets engaged to a human princess, so the mermaid's older sisters trade their hair to the sea witch for a magic knife and a loophole; if the little mermaid kills the prince before the wedding, she can turn back into a mermaid and survive."

"Kay, I see it now."

"Except she doesn't go through with the kill, so she dies, and because she wasn't really human, she doesn't have a proper soul, so her spirit's not allowed to go to Heaven."

"… Whoa."

"I know, right?"

"I mean," Mary commented, "not murdering somebody is kind of a low bar for moral decency. It's not as if the prince owed her anything just because she was attracted to him."

"No, no, whether the prince deserved to die or not is irrelevant," said Jim. "The point is that the mermaid had a chance to, objectively, trade one life for another, and because she was attached to the particular person she'd have to kill, she didn't prioritize her own survival, and therefore suffered."

"Wouldn't the guilt of murder have caused suffering anyway?" Toby pointed out.

"Not if she wasn't attached," Jim insisted. How were they not getting this? "If she could've just cut the throat of any random human, she'd've been fine. The moral of the story is that caring about people causes pain. That's what makes it depressing."

"Do you like any fairy tales?" asked Darci.

"Sure. Just not most of Anderson's work."

"What should we watch next?" said Claire hospitably. "If we're on a 'sister movies' theme, I've got Frozen."

"Isn't that one also based on an Anderson fairy tale?" said Mary.

"Not really," said Jim. "The Snow Queen was more 'inspiration' than 'source material'. Elsa never kidnaps anyone, and they left out the broken enchanted mirror. Plus it's fun to see all the different ways humans think trolls are like."

"We also have the Trolls movie," said Claire. "I haven't watched it yet. My dad got it for Mom's birthday because she used to collect the dolls."

"I haven't seen that one yet, either," Darci commented.

"Should we?" said Mary. "Any other votes?"

"I'm game for whatever," said Toby. "This one's a musical, right? Those are always fun."

Jim squirmed.

He hadn't watched this movie despite his curiosity, after an online clip of the opening had explained the premise. Getting eaten alive was his greatest fear. Did he want to watch a movie about trolls narrowly avoiding being eaten? Did he want to explain why he didn't want to watch it?

While he debated, the movie got put in.

"Once upon a time, in a happy forest, in the happiest tree, lived the happiest creatures the world has ever known: the trolls. They loved nothing more than to sing, and dance, and hug, and dance and hug and sing and dance and sing and hug –"

Enrique started laughing.

Oh, shit, Jim hadn't warned him.

"Uh, Enrique –"

"Ssh! This is ridiculous. I mean, the huggy bit's kind of like you, but the rest of it – ha!"

"But then one day, the trolls were discovered by – a Bergen!"

"The trolls are gonna –"

"Ji-im! Spoilers!" Toby hissed.

"They were the most miserable creatures in all the land."

Jim grabbed Enrique and covered his eyes. The smaller Changeling yelped and squirmed. Jim switched forms so his fingers wouldn't bleed from the clawing.

Enrique got his eyes uncovered just in time to see the Bergen flick a troll into its mouth.

The onscreen troll's exclamation of "Oh my god!" was drowned out by Enrique's much more lurid cursing.

"What the –?" The girls and Toby all turned to stare. Claire pointed at Enrique accusingly. "I knew that didn't mean 'I'm sorry'!"

"The hell kinda movie is this?! Why would you watch this?!" He twisted to look at Jim, who let go of him rather than risk yanking his scruff by accident. "You knew?!"

"I saw a bit of it on the internet when it first came out. That's why I froze up when Claire suggested it."

That … that was the wrong thing to say. Enrique rounded on Claire. A techno-rock cover of In The Hall Of The Mountain King boomed from the movie soundtrack.

"Why in FUCK'S NAME would you think we'd WANT to watch trolls get EATEN? Is this some kind of threat?"

"How the fuck would it be a threat?" Claire shot back, stealing some cushions from Mary to prop herself up taller without getting out of her blanket cocoon.

"Most Changelings –" Jim started to say.

"DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES I'VE ALMOST BEEN EATEN?" Enrique roared. "I DON'T! CAUSE IT'S A LOT!"

"We've all had close calls," Jim finished. "Nyarlagroths, Hellheetis, goblins if you catch them in the wrong mood, Gruesomes if you're already hurt, Stalklings, and it's a … popular threat from Gumm-Gumms."

"You forgot the sloorbeasts," said Enrique bitterly.

"Nobody's gotten lichen patches that bad." At least, they hadn't when Jim got out. "Have they?"

"Still counts."

"Uh, excuse me." Toby raised his hand. "I think I speak for us all when I say, what?"

"The Darklands are a hostile environment with predators and scavengers," explained Jim. "That's the other reason we slept in groups."

"Bigger targets, but we could have lookouts."

"Okay, that's its own kind of horrifying, but I was more reacting to the cannibalism?"

"Changelings don't count as real trolls," Enrique said sarcastically. "We're Impure."

He left out the part where they'd eaten their own dead. Jim didn't add it.

(It wasn't like they'd hunted each other for food. Sometimes a Changeling just died, somehow, in a way that didn't get them eaten by something else, and … well, food was scarce in the Darklands. They couldn't afford to be picky.

It also paid to keep watch over the sentry posts. Gunmar occasionally used the Decimaar Blade to post a sentry and then forgot to order them to rest and eat. Once they died, the average adult Gumm-Gumm was a meal for twenty Changelings, easily, if they could get to the body before the Gruesomes did.)

"Okay, we're switching to Frozen." Mary made the executive decision. "Wait," she said, while exchanging the disks. "If Changelings aren't trolls, how does Jim's adoption work?"

Because of course this was the perfect moment to tell Enrique about that, right in the middle of a squabble with his adopted sister.

"For one thing, most of Trollmarket still thinks I'm human." Jim switched back to human shape to illustrate the point.

"You got adopted?"

"AAARRRGGHH and Blinky thought I should have legal standing in Trollmarket outside of my job."

Enrique stared at him. Green diamond-shaped ears were pinned back. Buggy, slit-pupil eyes were wide and hurt.

"You get everything," he grumbled. "Two nicknames, and the goblins liked you, and you could always find food, and here you're the boss's favourite even when you're a traitor, and your human family still likes you, and now you get a troll family too? S'not fair."

"Hey, the goblins liked you, too." Jim was fully aware that wasn't much comfort compared to all the rest of it. "They gave you your nickname, remember?"

"They gave you one, too."

"Yeah, but you got yours first."

They probably weren't supposed to hear Darci when she muttered, "I feel like we're missing a lot of context."

"Shit," Claire muttered back. "Not Enrique told me a bit of the name part. They don't remember their names from before they were Changelings, and they don't get real names until they have Familiars, so they use nicknames instead. From each other or from goblins, he said."

"They don't get names?" Darci's voice went squeaky at the end of that.

"We're trying to come up with something other than 'Enrique' for him."

"You're trying," Enrique corrected. Darci squeaked again.

"Can we maybe circle back to the cannibalism thing?" said Toby. "That feels like the kind of trauma that should get unpacked at some point."

"I would rather leave it packed," said Jim.

"The way you blurted it out like that feels like you need to talk about it."

"Not all psychology is Freudian, Tobes."

"Do your parents still have baby name books from when they were picking Enrique's name?" Mary asked Claire. "Real Enrique, I mean."

"They didn't use one. He was named after our abuelo."

"Okay, so what about your other grandfather? What was his name?"

"Jose María." Defensively, "It's gender neutral in Spanish."

On the television screen, the movie menu finished another loop and started again.

"I tried spelling my name like it sounds, en are ee kay, but Claire said it spelled 'Nrek'. You get why I couldn't use that."

Jim laughed.

"What's funny?" asked Toby. "Is that an insult or something?"

"No, it's goblin, in English it means 'bottle'," Jim translated. "Or possibly 'container of food'." The only bottles he's seen them use held formula for the Familiars, and the word hadn't come up on the surface, so the distinction was unclear. "It's either a silly name or a really morbid one."

"Aaand we're back to the cannibalism."

"No we are not!"

"Na na na heyana, Hahiyaha naha …"

Either somebody had decided to start the movie, or the DVD had that feature where it automatically began playing if nothing was selected after a few loops of the menu.

The conversation went in circles a couple more times, then faded out.

+=+

"And who's the funky-looking donkey over there?"

"That's Sven."

"Uh-huh; and who's the reindeer?"

"… Sven."

"Oh, they're – ? Oh! Okay! Makes things easier for me."

"~Riot~," said Enrique.

"Huh?"

"My nickname. Before. It meant 'riot'."

What are you doing? Jim wanted to demand. Was Enrique just – just giving up on a real name?

"You can call me that for now. Till we work out a for-real one. Better than 'Not Enrique'."

Jim stuffed some burnt popcorn kernels into his mouth to keep from protesting. He couldn't undermine Enrique's – Riot's – chosen name, right in front of a bunch of humans, when he'd been arguing with them about how rude that was for weeks now.

"Oh. Okay." Claire half-smiled. "Riot."

Jim shut his eyes to hide the flaring glow.

+=+

Previous Chapter (Angor Rot gets treated much better, and more sensibly, than in canon, and is correspondingly less vengeful)

Table of Contents

Next Chapter (Featuring either Otto or Gatto)

A quick thank you to Taycin on AO3 for providing some name-gender context when this chapter first went up.

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cant-blink · 3 years

Text

My Gigan’s Backstory

Gigan hardly knew his real parents. He still has memories of them, vague memories deep in his data banks. He knew enough to have imprinted on his own kind; he knows he’s a space-duck.

His Masters, the Nebulans, has taken him from his nest before he was even old enough to leave it. They took him in, fed him, raised him. They took lots of pictures of him, in all his babu floof glory, and made sure to save those photos for future use...

Gigan as a babu was damn near the cutest thing in existence, a cottonball with a face. He would instinctively seek cuddles for warmth and would waddle after anyone he laid eye on, chirping and peeping the entire time. He quickly won the hearts of every Nebulan that came in contact with him, and a great bond was formed between him and his adoptive ‘family’.

But good things don’t last long in my universe and when Gigan began approaching pubescence, he became increasingly more aggressive and violent. Tis a normal part of space-duck development, as the young start to learn how to hunt and fight amongst themselves.

For Gigan, though, this natural change would become anything BUT natural. His Masters not only placed him in complete isolation in a ready-made enclosure, but also placed a ‘mind-control’ chip in his brain. A weak one, just there to ensure he doesn’t turn that aggression towards them. They deprived him of physical company, but still spoke to him through the chip. Although obviously, the conversations were rather sparse and one-sided. Most of Gigan’s days were spent sleeping or restlessly pacing around the enclosure. His only source of entertainment was when the Nebulans would teach him how to ‘hunt’. Aka, to attack anything that went through The Door.

The Door was Gigan’s only contact with the outside world beyond his enclosure. The Nebulans would give him whatever he needed through The Door. Food, toys, or (his favorite) live prey to serve as both. He lived like this for many years, until he was a fully-grown adult. Then the Nebulans, his ‘parents’ that he came to look up to, told him that it was time for the Change. He didn’t know what this entailed, but he was excited and ready for this Initiation!

He was put under, and the modifications were made to his body, his senses, his brain. They took his natural weaponry and made them even more deadly by coating them in powerful alien alloys. They gave him power, in the form of lasers, fire, flight, teleportation, and a buzzsaw implanted into his chest. They gave him knowledge in his brain, able to access whatever information he could possibly desire (that they already had on record, of course). And most importantly....

... They downloaded his baby pictures into his memory bank. Just to humble him a bit, remind him of how cute he was.

Gigan was quite overwhelmed at first. His body stayed mostly the same in appearance, but the changes made took some getting used to. After giving him recovery time in his room, this overwhelmed feeling only increased as they FINALLY began letting Gigan out of his enclosure to practice in a training room.

This overwhelmed feeling quickly went out the window when he learned he was going to fly for the first time. He also began learning how to control his powers, and he took to the lessons pretty well. So many new ways to kill his prey, it’s great! He loved every moment of it!

Once he mastered his skills, he was finally allowed to venture into the real world to carry out missions. Much death and destruction was waged at his claws, all in the name of ‘peace’ as the Nebulans called it, and he loved every moment of it. After being confined to his room damn near his entire childhood, it was like he was able to release all that pent-up aggression on something other than his prey. And once it was all over, and his mission was a success, he would retire back in his enclosure and rest. Despite having been a prisoner in there for the longest time, he still took comfort in his nest.

He was content living with his Masters for a while; he had food and shelter, and a purpose in carrying out whatever missions the Nebulans sent him on.

But as time went on, he began to find that he wanted something more. He didn't know what he was missing, but something was wrong. There was a need in him, ever since he grew to adulthood, that he couldn't fulfill. It got so bad that just the sight of anything colored gold got him bothered and only agitated his aggression further.

Taking note of Gigan's increasing frustrations and unhappiness, the Nebulans came to the conclusion that he must have a mate. He deserved it and they pulled strings to obtain the finest specimen they could find, only the best for their pet space-duck! Importing the specimen, they let her into his room using The Door, and for the first time since being taken from his parents, Gigan saw another of his own kind. The Nebulans had their hopes up, for the interaction seemed peaceful as the two curiously met. All Gigan had to do was fluff out his feathers, fan his sails, and strut his stuff!

But that never happened. For this bioweapon did not court her and instead tried to force himself on her. It’s typical behavior for male space-ducks without a mate, but to not even try courtship? What's worse, when the female rejected his advances (who did this cyborg asshole think he is?!), Gigan only got increasingly more violent and with his enhanced strength and weaponry, it got real bloody really fast.

So fast, the Nebulans couldn’t even stop it from happening when Gigan killed his potential mate. It was horrified silence from the roaches, as their beloved pet finally found release on the corpse. He continued this until he tired himself out and turned to cannibalizing the remains.

Now that... was not normal.

But maybe the Nebulans did something wrong? Perhaps using The Door triggered Gigan to view her as a toy, as live prey? They tried again, and again, with different locations but with the same results. If anything, Gigan only learned how to keep his toy alive for longer. Kept in isolation most of his life, and trained to choose violence at every opportunity, Gigan had no real social skills among his own kind. His instincts to court and breed like a normal space-duck was severely stunted and the Nebulan’s repeated efforts only really reinforced in Gigan’s psychopathic mind that other creatures existed for his own personal pleasures.

They did come to accept that trying to breed their prized weapon was a lost cause. If anything, they’ll reward him with an opportunity to mate if he does a good job at his missions. Whatever makes him happy.

This arrangement made him very happy, and for a while, he thought he needed nothing more in life.

But one day, was the day something new awakened within Gigan.

It was an unusual mission; the Nebulans wanted him to help them capture a target, alive and unharmed. Their target was another bioweapon, just like him, created by a long-extinct race and flying around the cosmos destroying worlds. That kind of power could be useful, and best of all: it came with a mind-control chip of its own.

His name was Ghidorah. King Ghidorah.

The pictures did not do this dragon justice, as Gigan and the Nebulans tracked down the mind-control chip’s signature, and found the massive asteroid. From it, emerged the three-headed dragon. The GOLDEN three-headed dragon with MASSIVE sails that caught the light beautifully.

Setting his eye on the creature woke something in Gigan, for the very first time. He... He WANTED this creature, all to himself. Alive. And he can have him, once they brought this creature into Nebulan control. That was all the motivation he needed.

The battle was a dangerous one. The dragon’s intentions to kill were obvious, and for once in his life, Gigan had to hold back. He had one goal in mind, to incapacitate the dragon and bring him into Nebulan captivity. A swift and powerful strike to the middle head was all that was needed to finish the job.

The Nebulans went right to work with that mind-control chip. Gigan wanted something else, but was forced to sit out while the dragon was prepared. And when they finally did meet, the dragon spoke not a word to him. He just needed time to adjust, the Nebulans reassured the cyborg. They’ll be spending plenty of time together once their plan was ready to set in motion.

Their first mission was to Earth, to dispose of a creature called Godzilla. Ghidorah apparently already had run-ins on this planet, but was swiftly outnumbered. But now with Gigan at his side, surely the odds will lean in their favor.

And it very well nearly did. Together, Gigan, Ghidorah, and the Nebulans almost killed Godzilla.

Until...

Something went terribly wrong. All of a sudden, Gigan lost contact with the Nebulans, for the very first time. The mind-control chips in both kaiju was de-activated, and Gigan was left on his own. Unfortunately for Godzilla, Gigan was no innocent victim under the control of malicious aliens. Mind-control or not, he functioned largely of his own accord and he quickly resumed torturing the fuck out of Godzilla.

Even dragging him to Ghidorah’s feet like a proud suitor showing off prey.

Which Ghidorah promptly rejected and punted the fat Earth lizard away...

That’s okay, it was funny watching Godzilla fly anyway.

However, it quickly became obvious that Ghidorah was no team player and had a great disdain for Gigan. He made little effort to involve himself in the fight, beyond warding off Anguirus’s advances. This hatred even seemed to outweigh his beef with Godzilla as Ghidorah ignored his Earth-side enemy to argue against Gigan. Such vitriol from the dragon for what was an accidental collision- Wait, this wasn’t about Gigan accidentally flying into him. No, Ghidorah was blaming HIM for this whole entire mess?! THE FUCK!!

This argument costed them the mission, Gigan attempting and failing twice to retreat back to the Nebulan ship. Only when Ghidorah was allowed to retreat did Godzilla finally let the cyborg flee alongside him.

It was a bitter blow to Gigan’s ego; not only was his attempt to impress such a beautiful mate a complete failure, but he never lost a mission so miserably. But things go from bad to worse, when Ghidorah followed him back to the ship and to his horror, proceeded to destroy it. Revenge for keeping him hostage.

It was at that moment Gigan had to choose, between his Masters, who were essentially his parents, or this beautiful dragon that he wanted so badly but whom didn’t seem to return the favor...

He chose his Masters and, despite being injured, he rushed to defend the ship with everything he’s got. Ghidorah seemed reluctant to engage in teeth-to-claw close combat, and when the hydra saw that it would take more than Gravity Beams to keep this cyborg at bay, it was what allowed Gigan to chase him off. The Nebulans were safe...

... For now.

For it was barely over a year later, after yet another failed Earth mission with an ally named Megalon, that Gigan returned to his Masters even more damaged than last time. And that’s when Ghidorah, lying in wait for the perfect opportunity, decided to strike.

The Nebulans were defenseless and a weakened Gigan could do nothing but watch as his Masters were destroyed. His home... The sight of it all was horrific, and yet... somehow beautiful, seeing this dragon’s full destructive power unleashed first-hand. After the carnage, Ghidorah turned to him, regarding him with six blood-red eyes. Gigan was ready to go down fighting, but to his surprise, the dragon turned and flew off into the void. Leaving him alone for the very first time.

His mind-control was lost completely. No orders, no reassurance that everything was okay. Nothing but silence. With everything he’s ever known gone, Gigan knew not what to do. Is this what it feels like to finally leave the nest? Was he ready?

........

Of course he was. His Nebulan ‘parents’ taught him all he needed to know in life, and he went forth to make his own path. He forged his own way, making a living as an assassin and a pirate. He met with old friends, recruiting Megalon into his crew, and made new ones, meeting a grumpy ol’ centipede. He also took those same friends and threw them under the bus when the law finally caught up with them.

He was totally going to come back for them, honest....

His career as an assassin came to an end, however, when the worst day of his life happened. It was like any other, coming to meet those who wanted a job done. However, this turned out to be nothing more than a means to trap the cyborg and put him through another Change...

This one, for the worst, as it completely stripped him of his space-duckness, his feathers gone, his sails tainted red. His new ‘Masters’ wishing to enslave him...

Needless to say, it didn’t end well for them, when they learned the mind-control chip was only ever mild and served more as a means of communication than anything. The Nebulans never needed complete control, like Ghidorah’s mind-control chip was designed for. They had Gigan’s loyalty because they were all he’s ever known. Like hell, he’s letting his freedom go for some no-name low-lives who think they’re hot shit.

Still, the whole experience left its mark. He quit the idea of working as an assassin, and went full-time pirate. Taking out all the anger and frustration on innocent ships, innocent worlds. Stealing their most important resources to sell on the underground space-market. Accumulating riches in the most dishonorable of means.

But every so often, the thought of a dragon would enter his mind. Those gold scales, those massive wings, a complete disregard for life. Everything he could ever want in a mate...

... He would have extra fun with his victims whenever he got that bothered.

Until one day, he decided he was finally going to act on those desires, make those fantasies a reality. He had the tracking information on Ghidorah, he just needed to catch up to him. Not too hard when the dragon would spend so much time destroying any life-bearing worlds he came across.

When he finally did meet his Master’s killer once more, he... didn’t really know what to do from here. His new Final Wars form made him a freak; even if he were to do a proper courtship, he was certain it wouldn’t be successful. Maybe play off his new look like it was an intentional change, something he labeled a “work-in-progress”?

Would Ghidorah even recognize him?

Turns out, yes, yes he did. Despite Gigan’s attempts at friendly re-introduction, Ghidorah seemed just as hostile towards him as before, making it clear that he was still holding a grudge against the cyborg. But the dragon never really escalated that hatred into an actual fight.

This was something he can work with.

And he was nothing if not persistent. Unlike all those other females the Nebulans would try to pair him with, this one was special. He wanted him, forever and not just for the night. For that, he knew he had to earn Ghidorah’s forgiveness. Maybe then, the dragon will be willing to give him a chance.

Worst case scenario, he still remembered how to activate that mind-control chip...

#gigan #ghidorah #king ghidorah #godzilla #gigadorah

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libralita · 4 years

Text

The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes

Suzanne Collins

Summary: Ambition will fuel him. Competition will drive him. But power has its price. It is the morning of the reaping that will kick off the tenth annual Hunger Games. In the Capitol, eighteen-year-old Coriolanus Snow is preparing for his one shot at glory as a mentor in the Games. The once-mighty house of Snow has fallen on hard times, its fate hanging on the slender chance that Coriolanus will be able to outcharm, outwit, and outmaneuver his fellow students to mentor the winning tribute. The odds are against him. He’s been given the humiliating assignment of mentoring the female tribute from District 12, the lowest of the low. Their fates are now completely intertwined—every choice Coriolanus makes could lead to favor or failure, triumph or ruin. Inside the arena, it will be a fight to the death. Outside the arena, Coriolanus starts to feel for his doomed tribute . . . and must weigh his need to follow the rules against his desire to survive no matter what it takes.

Rating: ★★★★★

Review:

So, this is a bit of a “disclaimer” or more of an interesting fact: I’ve technically never read The Hunger Games Trilogy. I had to read the first book for my English class, and it was a time where I hated being told what to read so I used SparkNotes. We also watched the first film in that class but that doesn’t really matter because A) that was like 8 or 9 years ago and B) it was for my class so you can bet I wasn’t playing attention. So, for all intents and purposes, I have not read the Hunger Games. Now you may be asking why I decided read this…seemingly controversial book rather than the much beloved original trilogy. Cuz my friend said I should, the audiobook sample intrigued me, and when are you going to see a review of this book from someone who hasn’t read the original trilogy?

Before I go into spoilers with this book, I just want to say as someone who has at best a surface level understanding of the Hunger Games trilogy, I think people are being a little bit harsh about this book. This book made me completely understand why Coriolanus Snow went down the path that he did while also not glamourizing it or making excuses for it. I genuinely felt bad for this young man who has delt with so many hardship that no one would should suffer through. However, he still does horrible things and the book recognizes that he does horrible things. It is a fascinating character study with a bit of background on how the Hunger Games came to be. Perhaps my opinion will change once I read The Hunger Games trilogy (which I intend to do) however at this point I think this was an amazing book and you should give it a fair shake. Now, onto spoilers.

The only flaw I found with this book was it was a bit too on the nose with a couple of things. First some of the names. Gaul. Satyria. Highbottom. I know that Collins started off as a middle grade writer and these feel like very middle grade character names. They just describe the characters a little too perfectly. In YA, it’s more popular to make characters where their names’ meanings give an insight into their character. Not a huge problem but a bit silly.

Second, I’m a little conflicted on the political talk. On the one hand, holy shit a YA book that talks about political theory? In an intelligent way? That’s not just screaming about real world politics? Oh my! On the other hand, it’s a little too on the nose. Gaul having Coryo write about the Social Contract and then this conversation:

“‘I do. Unless there’s law, someone enforcing it, I think we might as well be animals,’ he said with more assurance. ‘Like it or not, the Capitol is the only thing keeping anyone safe.’ ‘Hm. So they keep me safe. And what do I give up for that?’ she asked.”—Page 434

Hobbes would swoon over Coryo. It wasn’t bad just on the nose. And to a degree, I get it, I’m working on getting my masters in political science and I’ve read Hobbes and Rousseau whereas most the intended audience probably hasn’t. So, I call this a nitpick for me

Other than this book being a little too on the nose, I found very little fault in this. Maybe the Post-Games story line was a little less interesting but it still wasn’t bad by any means. This book is a character study of Coriolanus Snow, so I’d like to talk about him and his dissent. While reading this, my friend asked me if I hadn’t known that Coryo would one day become President Snow, if I could see it coming. And, while it’s hard to tell exactly, I think Collins manages to balance both Coryo being sympathetic and showing how he could become the person that he is in the trilogy. There are three…phases or Coryo’s life that really illustrate how he becomes President Snow. First is his life during the War. Second, is his life During the 10th Hunger Games. Then his life Post-Games. Collins does a wonderful job of portraying what it was like for Coryo during the war. The horrors he had witness of enjoying the life of luxury at an early age and then his world crashing around him. Of his family dying. Of the struggles to survive. Of him witnessing his friends’ parents restore to something horrible like cannibalism. It’s brought up a lot because it’s something that scarred him.

Now his During-Games life/the first half of this book. Coryo and the people around him are clearly dealing with the PTSD of growing up in a war zone. He’s essentially starving through most of this section during the book and on the verge of losing of what little he’s held onto since the War ended. I feel really bad for him. There was a part of me during this section where I hoped along side him that Lucy Gray would win the Hunger Games, he could go to University and continue his relationship with her. Maybe they could have changed Panem for the better. And while in this section he was no pure angel, you could see Gaul and Highbottom pushing him to become a worse person. You could also see the red flags that become worse in the Post-Games section.

There are two major red flags I picked up on during this read through. First, is his relationship with Lucy Gray. He’s very possessive of her and he gets very jealous when she sings about another guy during The Hunger Games. This made the relationship slightly uncomfortable for me…though let’s be honest if Sejanus was pining after Lucy Gray he would be acting no different from any other YA love interest (shots fired.) He actually reminded me a lot of Jace from The Mortal Instruments. The second red flag is his treatment of Sejanus. In a meta sense Sejanus is your typical hero and the fact that Coryo is using him (and really anyone besides maybe his family?) is a giant red flag to me as a reader. He doesn’t like Sejanus or Mrs. Plinth. He just wants to use them. Which is really sad but shows that is eventually dissent into Post-Hunger Games Coryo is foreshadowed.

Now, let’s talk about Post-Games. I took a break once the Games ended because I was a little unmotivated to keep reading. I didn’t know if I would like Coryo leaving the Capital. I liked seeing the political maneuvering of the Games and his dynamics with his classmates. However, watching his dissent was great. His relationship with Lucy Gray went from slightly concerning to full blown toxic. His possessiveness of her really amped up. Coryo also isn’t really happy to see Sejanus because it’s a friendly face, it’s because there’s someone to recognize his status and for someone he can use. Again, another moment of possibility of where Coryo could have let Sejanus and maybe Lucy Gray escape and he could have gone off to become an officer. Work his way up and become the President. However, he didn’t take that path.

It was so heartbreaking to see Sejanus die, there was still a glimmer of Coryo’s humanity where he genuinely felt guilty but you could see his self-preserving nature showing its ugly head. And then his journey is cemented when he can’t handle being out with Lucy Gray so he may or may not have killed her, then he goes back where his family pictures are ruined and his mother’s powder is mush. The only thing left his is father’s compass.

Speaking of his father, one final character I’ll mention is Dean Highbottom. I wish we got a little bit more of him because his view of Coryo is interesting. It seemed like Collins gave a very subtle story about how Highbottom was worried that Coryo would turn out like his father. But Highbottom ended up created the monster he wanted to prevent. If he had shown Coryo compassion and understanding, he might have turned out differently. This ended up getting Highbottom killed which was a great way to end the book. Sad but great.

Overall, I think this is a great story. I loved seeing all the different roads Coryo could have taken and how things could have turned out differently. I am planning on buying the Hunger Games trilogy so it’ll be interesting to see how this changes things for me.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #suzanne collins #reviewsdaytuesday #ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games

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leahazel · 3 years

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More about my morally-grey heroines and their messed-up relationships

I wanted to elaborate on this post I wrote about D&F and BFS, but it turns out that adding readmore links to reblogs is a PITA, and I just now that this is gonna turn into a fucking novelette.

So here we go.

Time to go into some detail about this!

Let’s define our terms:

“Decline and Fall” is my 120K+ series of loosely chronological, interconnected short fics, set in a tiny fandom for a visual novel that’s been in alpha development since 2015. For the record, the word count disincludes unfinished drafts, and stories that I’m holding back because they’re based on canon spoilers.

“Blood from Stone“ is my 100K unfinished Skyrim WIP, which began as a response to a kink meme prompt, and is not so much a rarepair as a non-existent one.

Both of these stories centrally feature young female protagonists and their sexual relationship with a much older man. Both heroines are... “grey” to say the least.

Let’s compare our fandoms, shall we?

Skyrim is a juggernaut fandom for a super-popular RPG which is part of a 30-yo franchise. The setting is moderately dark and casually sprinkled with murder cults, cannibalism, secret police death squads, and the prison industrial complex. The player character can be a thief and a murderer and everyone just learns to be okay with it because the only alternative is a fiery apocalypse. They also rob graves for the lulz.

Seven Kingdoms: The Princess Problem is a pinkie-toe-sized fandom for a hybrid RPG and dating sim where attractive young people flirt and date for the purpose of brokering world peace. The setting is one where you can actually broker world peace effectively. The player character can perpetrate a fair amount of proxy violence, but maintaining a good reputation dishonestly is legitimately difficult.

Now, let’s compare our heroines:

Corinne is a 24-year-old bounty hunter who became a folk hero, a soldier, and a cult assassin. She’s living alone and working for a living since she was 18. She’s never been in love, but she’s had multiple sexual and romantic relationships in the past. I deliberately wrote her as being very sexually confident and self-assured. She also has combat training, magical training, her special Dragonborn powers, and an incalculable amount of social clout. By every metric, she’s a powerful character. Though she can talk her way out of a tight spot (all my favorite characters can), she can also fight her way out.

Verity is (at the beginning of D&F) not yet 18 years old. She’s a princess from a very conservative kingdom who was raised to become a barter bride in a diplomatic marriage. The values that were passed to her were duty, tradition, and absolute obedience. Her primary skills are social, charisma, eloquence, and persuasion. Then she was dropped into the deep water of a diplomatic summit and had the weight of future history put on her shoulders, without ever having been taught how to make her own decisions or live with her regret.

To sum up, we have one hyper-competent, confident, and independent badass, universally recognized as powerful and dangerous, and then we have someone who’s basically a deconstruction of a traditional fantasy princess.

Okay, what about the more specific setting within the game world?

BFS is set in Markarth, arguably the most corrupt city in Skyrim, and the site of a localized war, on top of the 2-3 other wars that Skyrim has going on. The city is controlled by the cartel-like Silver-Blood family, and their enemies are swiftly and brutally eliminated. The rule of law is a joke. When the player character arrives at Markarth, they witness a chain or murders and are drawn into a conspiracy that sees them sentenced to life in prison for a crime they didn’t commit. The ruling elite suppress the native underclass by a variety of inventive methods. The roads into the city are controlled by the remnants of a violent but failed uprising, and this uprising is actually the origin story of Skyrim’s entire civil war storyline.

D&F is set in Revaire, explicitly the most violently war-torn of the seven kingdoms. Once the epicenter of a conquering empire, it was a country full of arts and culture, until a bloody coup slaughtered the entire royal line and instituted a new and more brutal regime. The new regime is on shaky grounds and foresighted people predict its imminent fall to rebel forces. So much, so canon. In D&F, I made a point of developing the new royals and their small coterie of supporters, as well as illustrating their constant struggle to conceal how widely reviled they are by the populace, and most of the former nobility. Their apathy to the plight of the common people is underscored in contrast to Verity’s compassion, which is ridiculed as a sentimental feminine affectation.

I’m attracted to certain themes, as you might have noticed.

Now, we get to talk about love interests.

Thongvor Silver-Blood is rather anemically characterized in Skyrim’s canon, so much of the information that I include in BFS is inferred. From his limited number of dialogues in the game, we know that he’s politically ambitious, a Stormcloak supporter, easily angered, and that he has one legitimate friend in the city. Like most Skyrim characters of his age bracket, he served in the Great War. He’s defined by his relationship to his generational cohort. In BFS, he’s def8ined in contrast to his brother. Thonar is comfortable being thought of as a villain. Thongvor still needs to believe that he’s the good guy. And I’m gonna get more into that in later chapters, too.

As a love interest, he’s initially in awe of Corinne, and always genuinely adoring, but more than a little jealous and possessive. BFS is not a story about love redeeming bad men (don’t get me started), but Thongvor shows different sides of his personality to different people, and the side that Corinne gets to see is much nicer than what most people do.

Hyperion Asper is a character of my own devising, whose existence in 7KPP canon is purely implied. We know his children, Jarrod and Gisette, and we knew that he organized a coup to seize the throne. I posit him as a tyrant and unrepentant child-killer (not directly stated in D&F, at least not yet). He’s ruthless and manipulative and his sole purpose is maintaining a sense of personal power. I structured him as the bad example that Jarrod tries -- and fails -- to live up to.

As a love interest... look, he’s a man who’s cheating on his wife with his son’s wife. He seduces Verity and manipulates her, and takes a special delight in pushing her buttons. All his compliments to her are mean-spirited and back-handed. He’s also jealous and possessive... which is especially pathetic, since he’s jealous of his own son, whom Verity doesn’t even like. His rage is a constant implied undercurrent in the narrative.

And the relationship dynamics themselves?

Corinne kisses Thongvor, proposes marriage to him, and then sleeps with him before riding off into mortal danger. She’s fond and affectionate, but she shies away from intense emotions, whether negative or positive. Since they spend most of their time apart, their marriage has been defined by Thongvor yearning like a sailor’s wife, while Corinne ran around doing violence and crime. They only just had their first fight. It will change when they get to spend some more significant time together... but on the whole, their marriage is fairly happy, and the emotional dynamic favors Corinne -- so far. It’s not a pure gender reversal, but that element is definitely dominant.

Hyperion starts seducing Verity on their very first meeting, and relies on a combination of magnetic attraction and Verity’s inexperience in life to keep her coming back, against her better judgment. Their relationship is mutually defined by a combination of attraction and resentment of that attraction. The danger of the situation is an essential element, to the point where it’s hard to imagine their affair would survive without it. It’s a puzzle and a battle, a source of fascination but not of comfort. There’s lust involved, and curiosity, but not a shred of love or even like. The closest thing to genuine affection is when Verity briefly imagines that there could be a version of Hyperion she actually liked, cobbled from his various, hidden good qualities. Any trappings of a genuine relationship are deliberately discordant.

I have tried, more than once, to imagine an alternate universe in which these two could be happy. It can’t be done. they are a study in dysfunction.

So where’s the similarity, with all these differences outlined?

Corinne’s choice to marry into the Silver-Blood family makes her complicit in their rule of the Reach, corrupt and reactionary as it is. Her reluctance to accept being called by their name reflects a reluctance to confront unpleasant truths that’s fundamental to her character. Choosing to be one of them affects and will continue to affect how other people see her, mostly negatively, and mostly without her being aware of it. Being Thongvor’s wife has gained her enemies. The fact that she doesn’t share his more reactionary views is something that they’ve both chosen to elegantly ignore, but the rest of the world won’t be so generous.

Verity’s choice to marry into the Revaire royal family makes her complicit in their violence against the forces rebelling against them, albeit in a more subtle way. Her personal dislike of Jarrod and the fact that their marriage was purely political will not absolve her in anyone’s eyes. Neither will her compassionate and charitable character, which can only be seen as a fig leaf to the Revaire royals’ general brutality. She has lost at least one good friend -- who will never see her the same way, since she chose to throw her lot in with his enemies. She will go down in history as an Asper wife -- but if she’s lucky, not just as that.

Both Corinne and Verity choose to accept some of the violence of the system that they live under, in order to serve their own lofty, long-term goals. Both of them are more image-driven than they care to admit, and though they are genuinely caring and compassionate, they will readily sacrifice compassion in service on their goals. They are queens (or queen-like figures), one-degree-of-separation members of the ruling class, implicated but not directly in control.

And their relationships serve to highlight what they are willing to accept, even though it goes against their conscience.

Is there a conclusion to be drawn here?

Sort of. I want to write about power, compromise and complicity. For whatever reason, it turns out that yw/om relationships are... a really good vehicle for exploring that. I can’t really explain why that is, just yet. I just... have had these thoughts floating, unstructured, in my head for months on end. I needed to get them out on paper, and give them some semblance of order.

I don’t even know why anyone but me would read this, as long and meandering as it is. But having it accessible might be of use to me.

#blood from stone #decline and fall #train wreck verity #i don't know why anyone would read this #it's nearly 2k words #and it has no real conclusion #hazel's d&f/bfs meta spiel

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