#But I am so fascinated in how he justifies his own use of violence and privilege!!! So very very fascinated!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yanderu-deredere · 1 year

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drawn.

★ they've just been so lonely, all by themselves in this abandoned little factory town. it's hard not to be attracted to someone so wonderful, so glittering and beautiful, someone like you

a/n: sorry i ended up not posting anything the past few days. ive been really struggling with chronic pain flare ups and general bullshit but you guys really encouraged me to come back! so here i am with the latest chapter of the cannibals!

minor changes with part three where i made it so that none of the friends come down to dinner hehehe wonder why? neway, you can go back and reread that if you'd like but it's not that big of a change.

finally, after teasing it for so long, it's the gore chapter ive been waiting for forever to write! with that said, please mind the warnings!

i feel like this got really long so i didn't really do as much as i wanted to... you'll see when u finish reading. if you think i should keep going, send a couple asks and maybe i'll write another extra chapter?

part one (hook.) ★ part two (line.) ★ part three (sink.) ★ extra (captive.) ★ part four (here) ★ part five (quartered.)

pairing: casimir fiala x reader x emmaline fiala word count: 3612

warning: gender neutral reader, mentions of throat knife violence, mentions of coroner's and mortician's equipment, descriptive head injuries, descriptive eye violence and gore, mentions of drugging someone nonconsensually, mentions of medical and recreational drug use

Casimir knew as soon as the white van pulled up into the factory town that his entire life would be completely turned around, that this group of rule breaking idiots would be different from the usual.

When he saw your cute little face peek out of the window, he knew exactly why.

Casimir always believed himself to be a man of science and he had explained away his fascination (or rather, attraction) to Emm by just acknowledging that the two of them were polar opposites and evolution simply made it so that human beings were attracted to their polar opposites.

Opposites attracted simply because it gave their offspring better survival chances.

But then, of course, you threw a wrench in all of that, didn't you? Because he knew nothing about you except that your entire face made his heart palpitate in his chest for no reason.

He didn't even know if your personality was good with his or if you would even irritate him with your small habits. But, still, he found his eyes attracted to you like a magnet to metal and he wanted more.

Emm felt exactly the same. Unlike Casimir, she believed in love at first sight. It's what she felt when she met Casimir after all.

She knew as soon as she saw the man that she wanted to ravish him and she knew as soon as she saw you that she wanted to ravish you too.

She loved Casimir; the two of them have been together for years now. The only reason they were able to enjoy those years together was because Emm followed those instincts of hers.

Emm wasn't going to let Casimir use his science mumbo-jumbo talk to get her out of keeping you.

Thankfully, the two of them were on the same page. They didn't even have to communicate verbally. They shared a look; Casimir from the road and Emm from her binoculars.

So, despite the rules that they'd agreed on (not to kill the people who weren't breaking the rules, to try and stay inconspicuous, to be polite and nice just in case), Casimir couldn't find it in himself to stop Emm from using a silenced gun and popping your friend's tire.

The both of them only felt more and more justified the longer they spent time with your friends.

They pretended to be polite but whispered about how weird Casimir was. They tried to take photos of Emm's burns (and you were the angel that prevented them from doing it). They even went so far as calling you a freak.

It made both of their blood boil. Emm's more than Casimir's but Casimir's head had always been more level headed.

So, really, the group dug their own graves.

The first one that had to go was that damn bimbo.

Casimir didn't like her at all. Chloe was it? She just didn't look at Emm the right way and don't even get him started on the whole 'taking a photo of Emm' business again.

Plus, she kept sneering at you and whispering about how stupid you were to her boyfriend.

So, when you went upstairs to go change right before helping Casimir out with cooking dinner, he went to work.

"Hey, by the way, you guys wouldn't mind it if Emm smoked a couple of joints, would you?" He mentioned off-handedly to the bimbo as he sharpened one of the knives at the kitchen counter.

His sleeves were pulled up to his elbows, his muscles flexing as he clenched and unclenched his fists, trying not to get annoyed.

It was odd since both he and Emm usually didn't let them last this long but, he supposed, for your sake, he would put up with the disrespect.

It just really got at his nerves that she was treating the entire place like it was hers, looking into their fridge like she owned the place. They said 'make yourselves at home' but that wasn't exactly what they meant.

The ditzy blonde didn't even have the decency to hide her emotions when she looked at him, all wide-eyed with wonder "Oh? You guys smoke?"

"Yeah, some strong medical stuff." Casimir shrugged as he kept his eyes on the smooth metal of the knife and the rough grey of the whetstone, his knuckles turning white as he gripped it harder and harder "You know, because of--"

"Oh, of that whole--" She finished for him, making a gagging sound from the back of her throat.

It took everything in him not to just run the knife in his hand through her face.

He could imagine how satisfying it would be. It would meet some resistance when going through her nasal cavity but the crunch of it as it met bone would feel so good.

Before he completely lost it, though, the sound of the other three idiots in the living room convinced him fully that he needed to keep it together.

This needed to be their cleanest kill yet.

Not just because the four of them were a big group but also because they needed to get away with killing three of them without letting you know.

"Yes, she smokes all of it downstairs in the basement." He nodded his head towards the main hall and he watched her face turn blank, her eyes obviously confused.

She definitely looked like she was turning an idea carefully in her head. Casimir wished she'd hurry it up since she still had the fridge open and it was using up electricity.

Then, as if he could literally see the lightbulb above her head, he saw her expression brighten. She closed the door and gave him a bright smile that grated even harder on his nerves before flouncing away.

Casimir glanced at the knife in his hands, giving her a few seconds, before rinsing it off and wiping it with a dish towel hanging on the oven handle.

Then, he sheathed the knife, grabbed a meat tenderizer, slipped it into his pocket and unfurled his sleeves. Of course, the other idiots paid him no mind. Probably just like they paid their friend no mind as she slipped past them.

They looked deep into a conversation about something, all their backs turned towards the main hallway.

The realistion that hit the bimbo was probably the fact that there was a door at the very end of the main hallway. Normally, people mistook it for a cupboard under the stairs.

Casimir could at least give her credit for being smart enough to realise that it was most likely the steps to the basement he had been talking about only seconds ago.

He quietly followed her down, locking the door behind him just in case.

Casimir was nothing if not careful.

He would've paid big bucks to have seen the look on her face when she reached the bottom of the stairs.

He saw the way her steps faltered (he was right behind her, after all) so he knew she must've been surprised. Plus, she gasped too, which seemed a bit much but she also seemed like the type to overdramatise.

It probably surprised her to see that it wasn't a wine cellar or a man cave in their basement but a clean and proper butcher's dream.

It was Casimir's hard work after all. Emm helped a little but she was a bit too messy to really take care of a lot of the detailed work. Instead, she helped weld things together and fix some things up.

Before the bimbo could turn around or freak out, of course, Casimir shut her up.

She crumpled like soggy paper when the meat tenderizer hit the back of her head.

The crack of it was so satisfying, honestly. The splatter of blood was less so but it still felt good to see the crater of gore in the back of that bitch's head.

Surprisingly, he could see a brain in there.

As he watched her crawl on her hands and knees, trying desperately to get away, Casimir tested the hammer in his hand and frowned.

He wasn't usually one to use such bulky tools. Though the sound of it was music to his ears, the feel of it wasn't right. It really was better to stick to knives and the like. Leave the more brutalizing ones to Emm.

Before the little worm could get too far, he stepped forward, accidentally stepping on her ankle as he scooped her up, his arm wrapping around her torso and his free hand gripping her chin, his fingers digging into her cheeks.

He lifted her easily enough, despite the fact that she was so top heavy.

Unfortunately, he wouldn't get a lot of breast meat from this one since it was probably all plastic but he'd need to get rid of her regardless.

"Now, what are you doing here?" He whispered against her temple, relishing a little bit in the way she struggled against him, her well manicured nails trying to claw at his clothed sleeves.

She was barely making sense before he'd whacked her with the meat tenderizer but, now, her voice was slurred and stuttering beyond recognition.

She was concussed then. He would've been more surprised if she hadn't become concussed. In fact, he had to give her credit. That blow would've knocked most normal people unconscious.

Maybe she was particularly hard-headed?

In any case, her blabbering was entertaining at first but then it eventually got too annoying.

With barely any care at all and completely ignoring the way her feet dragged on the cold concrete, Casimir brought her over to his special autopsy table and plopped her down.

It was his own invention; not exactly his life's work but certainly one if his more brilliant ideas.

It wasn't entirely made from scratch, of course. He built it off of a second-hand autopsy table but he made it tilt one way so that the blood would pool better. He liked collecting it in case he wanted to use it for blood sausage or something.

He also added some restraints for the really shitty visitors that really pissed them off. Sometimes, the couple really liked to take their time with their kills, really carve them up, slice and dice them and hear them scream--

Plus, sometimes, Emm liked putting him in there too and he could be a little too wiggly for her tastes.

In any case, when he slammed her down on the cold metal table, Casimir couldn't say he was taking the usual care with her.

She was sprawled across the cold metal, her body locked into the restraints with a little distain, even his initial incision of her jugular was sloppy at best.

He didn't have any respect for people like her who couldn't even take care of people like you. You had trusted her with your friendship and she betrayed you. She didn't deserve any kindness from him.

She couldn't complain anyway.

Mostly because she was finally knocked out cold.

Anyway, Casimir left her down there. If she bled to death, good for her. If she were still alive when he got back down there?

Well, he wouldn't enjoy her screams in the usual way but he'd definitely get some sort of sadistic glee out of them.

He'd flay her skin open, watch her muscles twitch as she struggled to move away, see the life ebb out of her; he'd make sure that every single thing you'd suffered through, she'd feel but a hundred times worse.

Hopefully, enough, she'd be alive.

Before he left, of course, he had to wash the stupid meat tenderizer. Surprisingly enough, fragments of her skull stuck to the spikes of it and chunks of her scalp clung to the metal.

Then, he obsessively cleaned the blood splatter off the walls, taking care to wash himself and any wash cloths he used with the sink in the room.

It was easy enough to wash everything since the entire basement was made like an embalming room; the floor sloped slightly to the middle where there was a drain.

Lastly, he changed his clothes because he got a little messy in his anger-- No, irritation. He didn't want to accredit such a strong emotion to such an insignificant ant.

He and Emm kept spare clothes down in the basement just for situations like this.

Honestly, the entire thing was so easy that it disappointed Casimir. He had hoped the blonde idiot would've struggled a little bit more, at the very least.

Maybe the others would prove to be a challenge.

Speaking of the others, Casimir knew that the boyfriend would notice the fact that his girlfriend was missing the fastest.

Unless, of course, he was a piece of shit too.

So, Casimir's next objective was to get rid of him.

The very last thing he did before he left the basement was he grabbed a little baggy of weed. It was a specific one they used to drug some of their more troublesome victims.

Seeing as his girlfriend was interested, it was possible that the boyfriend would've been interested too.

The drug wasn't anything deadly. Just something to help them get a... better high. Which didn't just distract them but it also affected their short-term memory and their attention span.

Casimir just had to make sure that he mentioned where his girlfriend could be before the dumb idiot started smoking the stuff.

Finally, when Casimir emerged from the basement, he was met with the boyfriend. He kept saying 'the boyfriend' in his head but, truly, it was because he didn't recall what his name was. Dick? Rick? Something along those lines.

Casimir would mentally refer to him as Dick just because that's what the guy was.

Hell, even the one thing Casimir knew him for (being that bimbo's boyfriend) he couldn't do properly.

When the ditz wasn't paying attention, Dick? complained about how annoying his girlfriend was, about how much of a drag she was, how he was tired of her.

It was a surprise to Casimir since he had pretty much been singing her sonnets since he first met them when she was around to hear his compliments.

Though, it made sense when Casimir noticed the sleeze bag's eyes always seemed to be glued to her chest.

It just showed how two faced this entire group was, Casimir supposed.

"Hey, did you see where Chloe went?" Dick? asked, looking suspiciously at the door behind Casimir and then suspiciously at Casimir himself.

Casimir doubted it was because the idiot thought he killed his girlfriend, though. The man didn't look that smart.

"She mentioned she had a migraine? I think she might have gone to her room." Casimir looked towards the stairs before glancing to the front door "Or maybe she went outside for some fresh air? I don't exactly recall what she said."

The boyfriend clicked his tongue but, before he could leave, Casimir placed a hand on his forearm "By the way, she mentioned she takes medical marijuana for her migraines so I mentioned to her that my wife took some too, for her burns?"

When the guy turned back to look at Casimir, arrogant confused expression on his face, it took everything in Casimir not knock the living daylights out of the guy.

He bet he could make the same crater in this guy's head as he did in this guy's girlfriend's head with just his fist.

"She ran out and asked me for some. Emm had some extra so I figured--" Casimir shrugged and then held up the little baggy with the drugged weed "She told me to ask you to pay for it but, between you and me, it's honestly fine."

"My wife goes through so much pain, I can't even imagine--" Before Casimir could finish, the idiot snatched the baggy up and nodded quickly, that confused expression completely taken over by his arrogance.

"Of course! I'll make sure to get it to her!" Dick-head looked like it took everything in him not to cackle at Casimir.

And it took even more in Casimir not to choke the man.

Before he could be further tempted, Casimir just gave a curt nod and left for the kitchen.

He rolled his sleeves up and went to get ready for you to come downstairs.

It was a shame you had a change of clothes. He had an odd highly illogical fantasy of you borrowing clothes from them, maybe something of Emm's or of his, and then decending down the stairs.

He could imagine you, looking so breathtakingly theirs.

It didn't make sense to Casimir but he supposed his love for you didn't make any sense in the first place either. He would just have to keep you by his side and study you.

"Did you go shopping?" Emm suddenly appeared at his side as he got out cling-wrapped meat from the freezer above the refrigerator, her arm brushing against his waist.

Did you deal with one of them?

She was probably asking because she passed by the living room and noticed that there were only three of them.

"Yes, I did. But that meat is for next week." He pressed a kiss to her cheek, smirk playing on his lips as he closed the freezer door and opened the fridge "We're having the meat I bought last week. It will go bad if we don't have it now."

Yes, she's downstairs. I haven't cut her up into pieces yet. We're having that couple we killed from last week, the ones that tried to break into the factory to steal spare parts.

"You wan' me to take care of next weeks shopping since you've taken care of this weeks?" Emm tried not to grin too widely, excited by the victims that her husband had left for her.

"I mean, I have plans for next weeks shopping but, if the opportunity arises..." Casimir sighed like he was tired of the way Emm always seemed to go off script but, in reality, he was glad she always seemed to enjoy herself.

It was evident by the way that smirk on his face didn't even waver.

"I dun' know what I'd do without such a dedicated house-husband." Emm teased, mirroring Casimir's smirk as she cupped the side of his face and pressed her own kiss against his temple.

Casimir took the ingredients out one by one, bundling them into his arms "And dessert?"

The fourth one. The one best saved for last. That was, of course, you.

"We def'nitely have room for dessert." Emm pulled back enough to look Casimir in the eye and he knew that, from the expression on her face, she would take no arguments.

We're keeping them.

Casimir didn't want to argue with that. From looking at his face, Emm saw that.

"Good because dessert is the caramel flan I made last night." Casimir chuckled almost breathily as he finally pushed away from his wife and brought the food to the kitchen counter.

That one wasn't code at all but an honest fact. It took everything in Casimir to convince Emm not to scarf the six tins he made last night in one sitting.

"I'll jus' go move my bike into the garage." Emm sighed, her expression morphing to one of boredom as she stretched a little.

She didn't like the idea of having to go out into the rain but, if she left the bike just parked there, there was a possibility that it would rust.

It was just hard to go outside, to leave the house really, when you were inside, so close yet so far away. Emm had never felt so pained and lazy before until you.

Then, to make matters worse, while Casimir was getting the ingredients ready for dinner and Emm was putting on her work boots, that stupid boyfriend tried his moves on her.

Unfortunately, he didn't seem high at all.

Had he not smoked it yet? Casimir hadn't smelt anything so, perhaps, he was saving it for later?

Either way, it was stupid to flirt with Emm right there, where Casimir could obviously see them. Normally, Casimir would've lost it but he needed the night to be perfect so he figured he'd let Emm handle it.

"You goin' somewhere, gorgeous?" The idiot leaned against the wall, sleezy expression on his face as he eyed her up and down.

Emm tried her best not to sigh too loudly or even groan like she wanted to. Instead, she tied her boots and smiled politely at him "Yeah, jus' need't park my bike in the garage."

"Oh, you know, I know a lot about motorcycles." The guy didn't even wait to hear what Emm would say before he was putting his shoes on "Let me go with you."

At first, Emm's fist clenched and she felt her entire body tense. But then, she realised how good of an opportunity it was. She'd be able to get him alone.

So, she forced another smile onto her face as she nodded "Sure!"

"You know, my dad owns like five Harleys." He bragged as he stepped out of the house, that same smug look on his face as he walked with his hands in his pockets.

Emm wanted so badly to trip him into a puddle but, instead, she crossed her arms under her breasts and nodded, trying her best to look interested "Oh, I have a Harley in the garage."

"D-Do you?" The pervert didn't even disguise his staring "Why don't you show me that first? I can help you with your motorbike after."

Moron.

"Sure." Emm lead the way through a side door, letting them into the garage without triggering the loud garage door.

It was dark and, even when Emm pulled the string for the florescent lights, the entire room was still dimly lit.

The garage was kind of Emm's domain but she wasn't exactly proud of it. After all, though she could be a real genius when putting parts together, organisation wasn't her specialty.

Casimir had to come down every month or so and fix the place up for her. Even then, the entire place always ended up looking like a tornado went through in a week.

Basically, the clean look never lasted.

"Damn, you should tell your husband to clean up in here." The moron laughed as he stepped over some steel bars.

Emm tried not to cringe "Oh, Cas don't really come in here. The mess's mine."

"Yours?" He said, as if saying 'but you're a girl' and it wasn't the last straw for Emm but it was damn close to it.

She looked around, trying to see if there was anything fun to kill this guy with or if she'd have to go old fashioned and just fuck his head up with a wrench.

She knew she couldn't make too much noise, though, so no chainsaw or anything too fun. Even if splattering his guts everywhere would've been worth the clean-up.

"Sure, let's go with that then." The guy laughed one more time before caging Emm against one of the various shelves in the garage, his disgusting breath damp and putrid against her ear

Emm couldn't take it anymore. She grasped at something with her hand; it was smooth against her palm, dusty, something with metal and plastic.

Her arm was swinging before her brain could even connect the dots as to what it was.

The guy fell onto his back, screaming profanities as he clutched one of his eyes "You fucking bitch!"

Emm just straddled his chest, that grin she'd been suppressing for so long finally stretching out onto her face.

She looked down at her hand and noticed that she had grabbed a spare motorcycle headlight.

When she had swung, the entire thing had been a blur so she hadn't really seen what she had done to him. Even now, she couldn't see because he was covering it.

But the screw end of the motorcycle headlight was covered in blood and the ripped apart flesh of an eyeball. She could make out the veins against the whites, the chunks of it clinging to the grooves of the metal part.

It filled her with a rush to know that she'd jammed the entire thing in there in one try.

To prevent him from screaming any more, she grabbed his wrist and stuffed it into his mouth, essentially making him pretty much choke on his own flesh. Then, she saw a peek of it.

He was still trying to dig the heel of his palm there, as if putting it there would stop the bleeding. Which made sense, of course. But it definitely wouldn't make a difference.

In any case, when she had yanked his hand away, she saw that his eyeball was replaced with bloody indecipherable gore. There were torn parts of the whites of his eyes near the outsides but it didn't look like there was much of it.

She laughed and he continued to struggle, kicking and bucking, desperate to get her off.

"Oh, so you wan'o play with the bull but y'can't handle the horns?" Emm couldn't help but taunt him a little, relishing in the way his own teeth dug into his wrist as she pressed down on him harder.

Despite the fact that they were almost the same height, she was much stronger than him and holding him down wasn't even a contest.

Before long, though, the struggling and the gore started to bore her. She realised she'd gotten too messy and that she'd have to clean up before she could see you.

Which meant, of course, that it would take longer to go see you. Something that felt unacceptable in her eyes.

So, she bashed his face in with a motorcycle headlight. Over and over. Till his entire skull caved in. And the motorcycle headlight got crushed in her fist. Or till it got crushed against his skull?

Whichever one was stronger, she figured. Her palm would bruise but his head caved in so, she supposed, it was her fist?

It was unfortunate, really, but the anger had built up inside her and the way he had tried cheating on his girlfriend really rubbed Emm the wrong way.

It wasn't like they ever used the head or the brains for anything anyway.

Then, she wrapped his face with a towel she had lying around and she carried him to the basement using the back cellar doors.

If holding him down was pretty easy, this was a piece of cake. She just slung his arm around her shoulders and then wrapped her arm around his torso, holding him up entirely.

She would've fireman carried him but there wanted to stay as clean as possible so there was less clean up.

When she entered, Emm spotted his girlfriend and felt bad for her.

That feeling immediately vanished when Emm remembered how rude she was in the van, trying to take a picture of her like she was a freak or something.

The thing Emm really struggled with was putting him on the autopsy table. She always complained to Casimir about the things. She absolutely enjoyed the sausages he made and the soups too but it was so much work.

She had to put his upper body down first but, then, she did it wrong and accidentally hit his head against the edge. Not like he was still alive but it was still annoying.

Emm had to try again and then a third time. Finally, the third time worked but then she had to get his legs up which wasn't that much of a struggle but it was still time she wasn't spending upstairs!

Where the two loves of her life was!

To make matters worse, as she was doing that, the stupid bimbo woke up and started struggling and stuttering and freaking out. She was crying up a storm, begging and pleading for her life and her boyfriend's life.

Like his entire face wasn't caved in and bloody already?

Emm just left her be and went to go wash her own face, hide the idiots' things, lock one of the guest doors and change her own clothes again.

Hopefully, the bimbo would just tire herself and bleed out.

"You okay, my love?" Casimir cupped her cheeks, pressing their foreheads together.

Emm just sighed and rolled her eye before nodding her head "Jus'... wanted to ask you 'bout somethin'."

Casimir smirked at that and pressed a kiss to Emm's lips before continuing what he was doing with prepping ingredients "What is it, my love?"

"I d'no if I was p'ck'n up what you were puttin' down before." Emm crossed her arms and leaned her back against the kitchen counter "But you... you think they're real pr'tty too, right?"

Casimir felt his ears get just a little bit hot but, of course, he quickly nodded because he never hid anything from his wife "We'd of course have to get rid of the nuisances but..."

Emm quickly nodded and hugged Casimir from behind, pressing a kiss to the back of his ear "I love 'em so much and I don' know why but I just--"

"I know, dear, calm down." Casimir laughed a bit breathily, trying to keep an understanding expression on his face as he smiled at his rather nervous and bashful wife.

The two of them had been with each other long enough that they could have discreet conversations without having other people know about what they were truly talking about.

For Emm to outright ask him these questions, she must've been really concerned about this. So, of course, he wanted to reassure her as best as he could.

"I'm very interested in them as well. Don't worry." He sliced into the middle of a bell pepper with precision, his ears feeling a little hot from his confession.

Casimir wasn't the best at confessing his feelings but, still, he wanted to make his intentions clear to his wife so she wouldn't be so insecure.

"Y'think they'd go for it?" Emm bit her lip a little, frown gracing her lips as she tightened her hold on her husband "Go f'r me?"

"My dear, you are a mighty fine specimen of a woman. If they don't go for you, well..." Casimir thought on the plethora of drugs he had in the basement and smiled, his finger tracing the silver sheen of the knife in his hand "I have a plan for that."

"You an' your plans." Emm huffed, her breath ruffling Casimir's locks a little bit.

Casimir just laughed again, all airy and soft, before shrugging her off and returning to slicing and dicing the peppers for the steak dinner he was making "Why don't you go and fix the garage? I know you were in a hurry and you didn't clean up after yourself."

Emm groaned, burying her face into her husband's neck. He reached behind her and, for a second, she thought he'd comfort her somehow. Instead, he thread his fingers into his hair and gave a hard yank, pulling her head up so that her ear was right next to his lips.

"You know how I feel about messes right, my dear?" Emm couldn't properly see Casimir's expression but she could imagine what it was: that wide sadistic smirk he always had when people tested him or when something interested him a bit too much

So, she huffed and rolled her eyes "Fine, fine."

Casimir let go easily enough and she unravelled her arms from around his torso, pulling away from him but not before pressing a kiss against his cheek.

She'd go clean up as fast as she could and then, maybe, she'd go join you and Casimir in preparing dinner.

Casimir watched as Emm left to go deal with her mess, a fond smile on his face.

Unfortunately, the peace was interrupted when he was shoved from the side by that one guy who loved tormenting you.

He remembered this guy's name purely because he hated him so much: Bran. Like the cereal. What an idiot.

Casimir had heard the footsteps so he hadn't been surprised by the shove but he hadn't exactly braced himself either so, when he was pushed against the counter, the knife clattered out of his hand.

It didn't matter. If needed, Casimir had other things he could kill this douche bag with.

Hopefully, he wouldn't have to. Casimir was hoping to bleed this one out and torture him slowly.

Casimir and Emm both noticed the way Bran had stared after you, looking at you like you were an object to be lusted after, like you belonged to Bran, all while he already had a girlfriend.

It definitely disgusted Casimir and he knew that cheating was a sore subject for Emm.

"The fuck are you two talking about?" Bran tried to sound as menacing as possible.

"Nothing." Casimir just smirked as he turned to face the asshole, hoping this man would give him any reason at all to humiliate him "Can I help you?"

"I'm fucking on to you." Bran spat out which, of course, made Casimir feel especially disgusted. "You and your fucking freak wife."

Casimir felt a little bit of his sanity snap when Bran said that specific phrase but he knew he had to hold back "On to me about what exactly?"

"I don't know." The question made Bran back off and the admission made Casimir smirk mockingly at him.

Bran looked like he was about to punch Casimir in the face but, before he could, Casimir took him by the wrist and straightened himself so that he was easily taller than Bran.

"We have helped you, we have sheltered you and we are now about to feed you. I will not have you disrespect me in my own home." Casimir smirked from ear to ear, his eyes boring into Bran's "So, tell me what your problem is with your words, like an adult, or get the hell out of my face."

Casimir could at least give credit to the man: he was fearless. Bran didn't back down. "They're mine."

"Your girlfriend?" Casimir played innocent, all the while his grip on Bran's wrist tightened to the point of being unbearable.

He could see it in Bran's face; the man was wincing and flinching away but the feeble tugs he tried to make were no match for Casimir's grasp.

Still, stubbornly, Bran continued "You know who I'm talking about."

Casimir finally let go "I am quite sure I do not. In any case, neither my wife nor I have any interest in your girlfriend."

"Where is she anyway?" Casimir added, dusting himself off and wiping Bran's spittle off of his skin.

"She's high right now so she's in Chloe and Dirk's room." Bran growled, still as aggressive as before but unable to make a move against Casimir since he was cradling his wrist "Once Chloe and Dirk get back, we're fucking out of here."

"Have fun driving with three wheels." Casimir just turned back to the food, not at all worried about the idiot behind him.

Oh, but Casimir definitely stored this entire event in his mind, knowing for a fact that he'd get his revenge later.

Bran didn't respond but he could hear the moron's thumping steps as he ran up the stairs and slammed one of the doors.

After your dinner with the two them, Casimir watched as you excused yourself and went outside.

Emm looked worried but Casimir didn't have a single doubt in his mind. His plans were absolute and he wouldn't let you escape. He had planned for every single eventuality and he would make sure you were theirs.

"Wait a few minutes before going after her." He said instead, pressing a kiss against her forehead as he started putting the dishes away.

"What about you?" She glanced at him warily.

Casimir simply picked up one of the sheathed knives with a bored expression on his face "I think the other two got high so I better just chloroform them and bring them downstairs."

Emm seemed satisfied by that because she grinned, laughing at Casimir's expression "What kind'a fucked up freaks are we that we get both'red when the killin's all borin'?"

Casimir just clipped the leather knife sheath to his belt loop and stepped towards his wife, kissing her chastely on the lips "Why, my dearest, the best kind, of course."

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #female yandere #male yandere #oc x reader #male oc #female oc #male slasher #female slasher #yandere slasher x reader #slasher oc x reader #slasher x reader #casimir #emm #chaptered #lemony content

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sciartherp · 2 years

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Overanalyzing 106′s Pocket Dimension

TL,DR: The pocket dimension’s basically a 3d map of Larry’s psyche. PLEASE find this man an EMDR therapist he needs one desperately.

Sorry if this is hard to understand, I am scatterbrained.

I've always found the concept of pocket dimensions super fascinating, since they're an incredibly versatile power to give a character. The glimpses of 106's PD we see in Containment Breach seem to reflect 106's own psyche. Everything's dark and muddied, there's long and winding corridors that create a maze designed to confuse weary prey but are till arranged in a way that allows 106 to traverse them with ease. There's little traps set up everywhere to ensure anyone trapped inside is always on-guard. We can see that there are small secrets to who 106 is/was scattered throughout the pocket dimension, such as “my name is not 106″ written on the floor of his cell, and the trenches. Nobody would want their mind on display for others to gawk and prod, so obviously he’s gonna ensure anyone who falls in doesn’t ever get out. If a victim ever makes it out, they're exhausted and traumatized, much like Corporal Lawrence was after leaving that cursed trench. And even after surviving all that, 106 will still stalk those victims and eventually end them. Why go through all the trouble of stalking your prey after they left? Why even allow them to leave? Is it just for the hell of it or did they see something that 106 doesn't want anyone to see? Both? Both is good.

The severe amount of trauma Corporal Lawrence faced, combined with underlying issues and the wonderful world of early 1900's healthcare and psych wards completely broke him, he was forced into multiple situations where being weak and vulnerable meant death, or worse, exploitation, experimentation, and other horrible acts. His sense of reality has been completely warped by these events, leading him to become detached and twisted. He sees anyone weaker than him as a plaything and will torture them just as he once was. There was something in that trench that turned him into what he is now, and now he takes on the role of the hidden monster, dragging anyone he can into this twisted game and forcing them through his pain. I can imagine it’s quite therapeutic, in an awful way. To inflict all your hatred, frustration, and pain onto some unwilling subject, watch them break just as you did and use it to justify your violence. After all, how could you blame someone who’s just trying to vent out their pain in the only way they know how? It’s a classic case of the victim becoming the assailant, but with a paranatural twist. And the PD reflects all of this, revealing all his secrets to those with a keen eye. And that probably doesn’t feel good. So home boy’s definitely gonna be pissed and want anyone who pieces the puzzle together dead. Because if the Foundation learns anything else about him, they’ll get curious. And that curiosity will bring forth endless experiments, more torture his poor fragmented mind was never built to handle. He’s scared of the Foundation because they can exploit and experiment on him, just as he was back in the psych ward. It’s an unending cycle of trauma for him.

If you had to walk a mile in his shoes, you’d probably blow your brains out. But 106 can’t. He’s immortal. And that just makes him all the more dangerous. He’s a loose cannon who can only be kept in check by the Foundation, which just encourages this cycle of agony to continue.

#random rambles #i love psychoanalyzing horror antagonists #scp 106 #corporal lawrence #SCP Foundation #scp #scp containment breach #psychoanalysis #tw suicide #tw experimentation #tw war

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inkandmoonbeams · 2 years

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but Edward believes he's a bad person because he.. kind of IS a bad person? Stede has always abhorred violence. His being responsible for someone's death literally drove him back to his old unhappy life to try and atone. Ed, however, killed Lucius and left Stede's entire crew to die. He killed his father (which, ok, fine.. he was just a kid and his dad was an abuser, but still) and "loves a good maim". Sure, he tried not being "the Kraken" for a few weeks and seemingly wanted to stop, but.. he went right back to it (doubled-down even) when Stede was gone. Sure he's sad, but he is also frickin BAD. He IS a killer and a torturer. By choice. Stede is not.

Hi anon!

So, I'm assuming this is in response to this post of mine. I get what you're saying, and I definitely don't think Ed is innocent. That post was not a full analysis by any means—I just wanted to scream about my feelings because I find the parallels between Ed and Stede fascinating, and the fact they both hate themselves and love each other just really gets me.

Here's how I see it: Ed has been playing the role of a monster for most of his life. We don't know how or why he became a pirate, but I'm assuming it wasn't a happy story (like how Oluwande told Stede they weren't pirates because they like it). We know he's bad. He's built up as this bloodthirsty pirate since the first episode. Ed also knows he has done bad things—he explicitly says he's not a good person, and admits that he is the Kraken. He's not exactly happy about it, but it's the truth.

Yet we see Stede fall in love with him, because Stede has always seen him as someone more than Blackbeard. Stede sees Ed. And Ed's never been able to just be Ed.

When Stede says, "You wear fine things well," he may be talking about fabric and other things that the upper classes enjoy, but I also think he's saying that Ed can be meant for more. That Ed can be good and have good things. But Ed doesn't really believe him. Remember when Ed left with Calico Jack, and said to Stede, "You were always going to see what I am"? (I can't remember if that's the exact line, but that's the gist).

Ed's breakdown and becoming the Kraken his way of saying, "Well. Stede finally saw, and that's why he left me."

So he goes back to his old ways. Because what's the point, if everyone else just sees (or wants) Blackbeard? If the one person who he thought loved him left?

Stede, on the other hand, is not portrayed as a monster, but he still believes he destroys everything in his wake. We have evidence that that's not true: Ed's gotten happier because of Sted. So Stede is basically having his own version of the Kraken breakdown.

And Stede might not be as squeamish as Ed, but he's not innocent, either. He still lit a boat on fire, you know? He told Doug to "unhand [him] or bleed." He's not the same kind of unhinged as Ed, but he's still unhinged. He chose to be a pirate and asked Ed to teach him how to be more like Blackbeard.

At the end of the day, I honestly don't take much stock in lines like "love a good maim," or other acts of violence, because, well...they're pirates, and pirates are violent. Every single character has been violent at some point (whether it's justified is another discussion). It's a comedy show that uses satire and hyperbole, and the violence is often used for laughs, too.

#i also think the reasons for ed's kraken breakdown are multifaceted but yeah #maybe that all makes more sense!#ofmd #our flag means death #anon #answers #katie rambles

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c-is-for-circinate · 3 years

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As promised: let's talk Hades, and how acts of abuse can create toxic environments for everyone around them, and also how people react to those environments--and to them being disrupted.

(For reference, I have just kicked Theseus's ass for the first time, it was exactly as satisfying as it was intended to be, and then I got predictably slaughtered a couple of chambers into Styx. Spoilers for everything through that point, but please no spoilers in reblogs/comments for anything after that!) Also, TW for a whole lot of discussion of abuse, particularly verbal and emotional abuse, and abusive familyworkplace dynamics.

Okay, so. To start out with, Hades is an abusive parent. He engages in innumerable acts of verbal and emotional abuse towards his son, because yep, that's what you call it when a parent constantly berates and belittles their kid for every perceived failure, including the ones the parent themselves could have prevented. Sometimes especially the ones the parent could have prevented. Zagreus failed at his office clerk job because Hades refused to teach him how to do it and then blamed him for not already knowing how. Cerberus tore up the lounge because Hades, who was actually there, chose not to stop him. Hades created, possibly deliberately, and then took full advantage of every opportunity he saw to insult and demean his kid, and the clerk job flashback shows us that he was doing so even before the escape attempts started. I'm pretty sure we're all on the same page here, but: yep, that all constitutes abuse, even if they're gods. Even if Hades has reasons for Being Like That. Even if you think Zagreus seems okay and unharmed by it (which: repeatedly throwing yourself into a gauntlet of violence that inevitably ends in your own pain and death because you're so desperate to escape home, not actually an indicator of someone who's okay). We all good on that?

Cool. Because I'm not really here to talk about how Hades' abuse directly impacts Zagreus right now (although there's for sure an essay in that too). I'm thinking about how it impacts everybody else.

Hades isn't as obviously unreasonable with anybody else in his kingdom the way he is with his kid. When we see him lecture somebody else, it's usually for an actual failure to do their job: Hypnos for literally falling asleep on the job and not doing anything that was assigned to him, Megaera for letting us past her so many time, Orpheus for being a court bard who refuses to sing. His attitude is super confrontational and unpleasant, but on the surface it doesn't necessarily look as fucked-up. Thing is, though, whether any individual act of aggression towards an employee/family member is justified or not (I would generally argue 'not', because aggression towards employees/family members is, y'know, not justifiable)--it's not about the individual acts. It's about the entire cultivated atmosphere of toxicity and abuse.

One of the very first things Meg ever says to us is, "I'd rather be on your bad side than his." Up until that point, we've got no reason to believe Meg has any history whatsoever of fucking up at her job. In fact, we've got plenty of reason to believe she's good at it. She's fiercely proud of it, she's frequently Employee Of The [Time Period], and we've apparently never even met her sisters because she handles her shit herself. But she's still scared of Hades. Dusa, who is an anxious wreck at all times because oh god what if she gets fired what if she gets fired what if she gets fired, in spite of apparently being absolutely exemplary at her job, is scared of Hades. Every single shade in the Hall is clearly terrified of Hades, and it's not because of what he's done to each of them. It's what they've seen him do to other people.

Which is how toxic environments work, whether they're work environments or families. The Court of Hades is of course both, always, with the bonus hell layer of you can't quit even if you DIE. An abuser in authority doesn't have to target you in order to make you feel scared, cowed, and desperate to please them. Humans (and gods who are basically extra-powerful humans) are good at learning by example. The residents of the Court get the picture.

So this Court is a minefield--and everyone except Zagreus is very good at tiptoeing around mines. We see it in Meg, so desperate to do her job well. We see that Hypnos very clearly does not give a shit about anything, but he still makes sure to have a list of excuses ready if/when Hades ever confronts him about failure to do his job, just in case. We see it when Achilles tells us that my ability to help you is constrained by the authority your father gives me, or whatever the line was sixty runs ago when he couldn't let me into locked chambers. The system, such as it is, works, and if Nyx talks to Hades as little as possible, if Thanatos avoids the Court entirely, if Achilles treads very carefully and knows how to keep his head down--well that's just the system, right? That's just how things are.

Even Zagreus seems to have had a role in that system as the court fuckup. He's the kid who didn't have a real job or purpose. He could take the focus of Hades' generalized, day-to-day ire off of everyone else, without triggering some of the more direct and violent ire because the work he was doing didn't really matter (a LOT of Hades' rage-triggers seem to be related to job performance, which means that the people with real jobs are of course the most at risk). And he could do so "safely" (big emphasis on the quotation marks there) because he alone of the court is Hades' actual kid, who's Prince of the Underworld no matter how much he fucks up. If one of Nyx's other kids gets something really really wrong, she might be able to protect them from some consequences, but Hades doesn't have any layer of supposed parental affection holding him back from getting violently furious about it. Zagreus gets a nice bedroom and the abuse is limited to words rather than divine power, and Hades is a dick to everyone but he only occasionally condemns people to eternities of torture, and only for good reasons like refusing to sing when your job is to be court bard, so it's fine, everybody's fine, everything's totally fine, right?

Except it's not fine when everybody is so clearly worried about anything going wrong. And it's especially not fine for Zagreus, who's the person to finally say no. He's leaving, for his own sake, because he deserves better and he's finally convinced he can have it. And that turns the whole system into disarray.

I am endlessly fascinated by the ways this game portrays different characters reacting to this upheaval in their carefully-mapped minefield. It's different for authority figures and peers and servants, different based on how people are positioned in the house under Hades' rule, and it's so spot-on and I love it.

Nyx, for instance, is absolutely calm about the whole thing, because Nyx has power. Hades can't hurt her. Hades can't even really do much against her children, not when Hypnos and Thanatos are gods in their own right. Yes, Hades rules the kingdom, but Nyx owns the land, and she gives no shits about his rages. And it's interesting, too, to see the lines she doesn't draw. The deal seems to be that Hades doesn't fuck with her, and doesn't outright threaten her kids (because Hypnos is bad at his job, demonstrably so, and Hades hasn't ruined him yet), and she doesn't interfere with the way he treats the people around him. She gives Zagreus advice and support and the mirror, but she also doesn't take a direct stand against Hades. He can't hurt her, but he could make life...difficult. She's protected, her position in the minefield is more of a safe viewing platform than slogging through the middle of it, but the mines are still there.

And then we have Achilles, who is one of my favorite characters in the whole game because of how he reacts to this whole situation. Achilles, like Nyx, is so supportive. Every single time you see him he has something encouraging to say. He gives us his Codex, secretly finds us weapons, trained us for years, clearly wants us to succeed. And still he's limited, not necessarily out of fear for himself (though he has to be scared for himself, he knows what Hades does to people who anger him), but out of concern that if he gives Zagreus too much help in one way, he won't be able to provide help at all later. He's still so careful.

Achilles and Nyx are so fucking important to this story because they're the only authority figures Zagreus really has in his life except for his father, and they are so supportive. They're what keep this story from being a nightmare of psychological horror and depression. They can't stop the pressure from Hades and this life in his house being miserable for Zag, but they can give us hope, remind us that Zagreus is still loved. And they have such an incredibly important role when it comes to guilt, which is one of the biggest ways toxic systems maintain themselves.

If Zagreus leaves, what happens to everybody else? Who takes Hades' wrath then? Who becomes court scapegoat if he's not there, and also, who gets punished for his escape? These questions matter, and we see him worry about it! He asks Nyx and Achilles both, is it going to be okay that you're helping me, are you going to be alright, will my father hurt you for this? And they are both so firm about telling him no. No, I will be fine. See, here's the list of reasons about why I'm going to be fine, why my position in this minefield is secure. They make a point of telling us that it's fine, that we do not need to hold ourself back from getting out of this abusive situation for their sake. That is instrumental in Zagreus's ability to keep making these escape attempts without feeling too guilty and worried and selfish to go on. (Another thing that's actually really important in setting up that dynamic--we see that Hades cares about Cerberus, even if he's using him as a pawn against us, and Cerberus seems to be the one figure in court who Hades doesn't get mad at. The dog isn't at risk, and that is really essential in keeping the story from getting too grim.) These people who we care about refuse to let themselves be held hostage to secure our good behavior.

It's also really useful for raising the stakes later in the story--we see Hades arguing with Nyx once or twice, and we see Zagreus feeling guilty about it, but it's also a sign that we're making enough progress to piss him off. After I finally made it out of Elysium on my last run, I came home to find him furious with Achilles in a way that actually makes me nervous, because Achilles does not have nearly as much security in his position as he says he does. (Achilles is such a good teacher/authority figure, because he knows goddamn well what Hades could do to him, and still refuses to let fear for his own situation stop him from helping the abused kid under his care escape his. And no, not everybody has the capacity to do that, but it matters so much coming from the guy who helped raise us. It matters so much. I do not even have the words for how much.)

It's also no mistake that many of the people we find supporting us along our journey are either the people with the most power in their immediate environment, or the least. Sisyphus helps us because what more could they do to me than this? Orpheus is a little wild around the eyes and somewhat disconnected from reality, and he wishes us the best because someone should get what they want and also he no longer gives a single fuck what happens to him. Eurydice has her own cozy little corner of Asphodel, as safe from Hades' rage as anybody anywhere in his realm because she's tucked in such an out-of-the-way middle place she's outside his notice. Dusa is so scared of everything anyway that, crush aside, she isn't any more threatened by us escaping than she is just by her everyday life here. Charon is unfathomable and unstoppable; Skelly literally exists to be a punching bag, and yet he also seems basically immune to pain, no matter what we do to him. There's no threat from Hades there.

So the people most at risk when I flip the world on its ear are the ones who have so much standing that they have something to lose, but not enough to protect them from losing it. Which of course brings us to Than and Meg--who are, of course, the two people who also seem by far the most upset by my attempts to leave.

As authority figures, Nyx and Achilles are constantly reinforcing the message that it's Hades' fault, not ours, if they or anybody else get caught in the crossfire of his wrath. I'm doing what I'm supposed to be doing, and it's not my guilt to bear. From Megaera and Thanatos, we get the opposite message--I am fucking with things, I am hurting people, and I need to stop. Zagreus isn't just abandoning them, as a friend or brother or lover or all of the above they're Greek gods who even knows. He's betraying them. They were in this together, as friends or lovers or whatever, but now Zagreus is sending earthquakes through the minefield they both still have to stand in. He is about to capsize this boat in the middle of a thunderstorm, he is fucking with the system, and they're the ones who are going to get most hurt.

I'm so curious how this is going to work for Than, who out of everyone we meet holds the closest role to Nyx's in terms of being sheltered from Hades' wrath. He's the guy who gets to leave, after all, even though he always has to come back. I've seen the least of him out of anybody so far because it took forever for me to get to Elysium, but two things really stand out and I'm so interested to see where they go. One, he really genuinely does care about Zagreus. He wants us safe, he wants us unhurt, the accessory he gives us only grants its bonus if we clear a room without taking injury, he keeps showing up to help. And two, he wants us to give up and go back and recognize how good we had it. Which is SO fucking interesting, considering how miserable Zagreus so clearly was, and how legitimate his reasons for being miserable were.

It makes me wonder so much about Than's standards for comparison. Does he know something we don't about what's waiting for us on the surface, something that might theoretically hurt Zagreus even more than staying down below? Has his life, which apparently allows him more freedom than anybody else in the Court, sucked horribly in ways we haven't seen, and that's why he spends so little time there in the first place? Either of those things is plausible, both of those things are plausible, and yet either one leads to this sense of patronizing, because he refuses to simply tell us. If something terrible is awaiting us, don't give us vague warnings, tell us what it is and let us decide for ourself! If you're fucking jealous because we might get out entirely and you're still stuck coming back here, say so. If you're worried about your mom--and he does bring her up, how could Zagreus turn his back on her like that, does seem to worry for her--then let's have an actual conversation about how many times she has insisted I do this and also how much I love her.

And, right, it's clear that a lot of Thanatos being upset is simply, you were going to leave me without even saying goodbye, you want to leave ME, which is understandable! But, like, he is demonstrably the one god who gets to visit the surface. He's the one person we actually COULD expect to see again. And he is absolutely also upset because there's an Order To Things, and we're fucking it up. We used to be his careless callow reckless friend who could talk back to Hades and get away with it, and now we're not, and everything is changing and we might leave him altogether, and we might leave him alone in that court without us, and he hates it.

Is it a short-sighted, selfish fear on his part? Yes, absolutely. Even if he's not scared of Hades on his own behalf, he is still frightened by what happens if we upset this system--and maybe it's the sanctity of a much bigger system than the Underworld that he's worried about! Maybe it's the whole divine and cosmic order. Whatever system he wants so badly to protect is enabling the abuse Zagreus has been dealing with for however-long he's been alive. Whatever system he wants so badly to protect OUGHT to be overturned, or at least shaken up. But this is what toxic systems DO. They convince the people within them that they have to be maintained, that a broken system that hurts the people within it is far better than no system at all, that changing the world is too scary and too dangerous. And Thanatos wants his whatever-Zagreus-is-to-him to be there, because he loves him and also because that's how the world works, and those things are all tangled up in one another, and that is how relationships are in a messed-up family like this so therefore I love it.

And Meg. Meg, the best for last, my dear, beautiful, furious, bitter, scared angry tired girl. I adore her. I am absolutely never going to date her, because the thing Zagreus needs most in his life hurts her, more directly than anybody else in the story, and that sucks, and it's not Zag's fault but they still shouldn't be together. Meg has taken more injury from this situation than anyone, quite literally as well as metaphorically, and it's not her fault any more than it's ours, but oh boy it has made her lash out and it's awful and it's perfect.

Meg's place in the Court of Hades is unique because she's not dead, not a mortal, not anything other than a god--but she's also not family. Nyx is not her mother. She's very much part of this system, she and her two sisters belong to Hades-the-realm and therefore also Hades-the-king, she can't leave, but she also doesn't have that protection of Nyx watching out for her in the same way. She's not royalty. She and her sisters (if you ask Hesiod instead of Virgil, which seems to be the interpretation the game's going with here) sprang from the blood of maimed Uranus at the same time as Aphrodite, but fuck knows Aphrodite isn't claiming them as siblings. And she can't be fired, exactly, but she sure can be demoted, and she sure can be made miserable in her job. Meg is vulnerable in a way very few people in Hades' employ are. She's a lot harder to do away with than any one random shade, but she's also a lot harder to miss blending in with a crowd.

What's more, she's the one person in this whole mess who is specifically tasked with stopping us from leaving. Hypnos isn't ordered to put us to sleep and keep us in our room. Thanatos can't be compelled or punished if he doesn't hunt us down. Achilles isn't told to lock us up and keep the keys. Meg is the one stationed at the doorway to Tartarus to keep us in. Meg is the one who gets in trouble when we leave. Meg (who Hades knows goddamn well Zagreus cares for, or cared for, who he absolutely knows we used to date) is the one who has to fight us again and again and again. And she's the one who keeps dying.

Again, it's this incredibly fucked-up guilt/hostage situation deliberately designed to keep people from fleeing abusive situations. Meg's insistence on fighting us now puts Zagreus in the position of having to hurt her himself again and again. Now suddenly we're the ones sticking a sword in our ex-girlfriend. Now suddenly someone can point to our desire to leave, to flee, to escape, and say, how selfish. How cruel. How terrible of us to want to go, when we're even willing to hurt the people we love to do it.

Except, right: Hades is the one who demands Meg stand there and stop us. Hades is the one who puts both of us in that position. Meg is also in an abusive situation, and she's willing to hurt us to protect herself. "I'd rather be on your bad side than your father's." It's easy to blame her at the start for being complicit, for being a tool of our father's abuse, for being on his side. It gets harder as the game goes on. I've killed her so many times. There's no way for her to beat me. She knows at this point that she can't beat me. She still fights, every single time, still throws herself upon that spike, not because she thinks she has any chance of stopping me but because she is so damn scared of what will happen if she doesn't try.

In fact, Meg's the one person we have actually seen face consequences for our actions so far, instead of just facing the threat of them. Her sisters are here. Her sisters, who she clearly does not want here, who are wild and violent and who she does not want in her life or anywhere near her, let alone near the job she takes so much pride in. She gets to deal with them now. (Hades doesn't have to deal with them. They're still not allowed in his court. But Meg does.) She gets stabbed, and bludgeoned, and shot, and lightning-struck, and poisoned, and every other thing we do to her. Thanatos doesn't. Nyx and Achilles and Hypnos don't. Bug Meg? Oh yes. Meg pays.

And yes, ok, she is complicit in this system. Everybody is complicit in this system. Zagreus who's trying to escape on his own behalf instead of overthrowing his father for the sake of everyone he'd otherwise be leaving behind is complicit in this system. Pointing fingers and pulling strings of who's more at fault? and who do we blame for this? is exactly how this sort of system perpetuates itself. Your sister always talked back at the dinner table and put everyone in an even worse and more violent mood. Your coworker refuses to work more than forty hours a week so now you have to take overtime to pick up their slack. You're enabling your dad by asking your sister to shut up, you're enabling your employer by working as hard as you do so you don't get fired, everyone's at fault, everyone's to blame, everyone is--

It's not everyone. It's Hades. It's Hades at the root of everything, and probably something big and institutional and fucked-up even beyond him. But even if everyone down in this Underworld does have to be trapped here forever, even if he's trapped here forever, Hades is neither challenging the system that put them here nor trying to make that fate better for anyone else stuck with him. He's just created an entire kingdom of backbiting and misery and people who can either go along with his whims or suffer the consequences.

At this point in the game, Meg is so fucking tired. Every time we run into her in the lounge, hunched over a table, the venom in her voice when she tells us "Do I look like I have anything to say to you?" is so bitter and so exhausted. There was a system, and she knew her place in the system, and it was a system divinely ordered by the gods themselves, and sure it was cruel but that's the literal will of the universe as far as she knows it. She had a role, and her role was vengeance and punishment and violence against those who'd committed the most egregious of sins in life, and there was a point to it, she was the divine deterrent to convince people not to do those things, and that was just, and that was right. The GODS THEMSELVES said so. How do you argue with that? You can't possibly argue with that!

And Zagreus is arguing with that. In trying to leave, he's questioning the unbreakable rule that nothing in the Underworld ever gets to leave it. In disobeying his father to do so, he's questioning the unbreakable rule that what the gods say is LAW. He's breaking everything.

And of course he's not trying to do any of that. He's not trying to destabilize the system at all. He's just trying to get himself out of it, to a place where he feels like he belongs and maybe a parent who's slightly nicer to him than this one. But toxic systems like this one break when the people within them have access to another option. When the kids find a way to actually leave, and not answer the phone, and not come home for holidays, and not deal with it any more. When the employees have the economic freedom to quit. When opportunities granted by education, money, social support, etc etc etc, show up and give people a choice. Even if the option is only ever for Zagreus--he's demonstrating that an option exists. Which is, of course, the one thing the system cannot ever allow.

I really like this game.

#hades game #hades spoilers #C plays stuff #driveby meta attack

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jackoshadows · 3 years

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A fascinating and educational twitter thread about how Prohibition helped Botswana become one of the most stable countries in Africa.

For decades since its independence in 1966, Botswana was an island of black sovereignty & stability between apartheid South Africa and white-supremacist Rhodesia. Some say it was the inspiration for #Wakanda in the movie #BlackPanther.

In southern Africa as the world over, the Brits and European colonists ran the EXACT SAME PLAYBOOK of alco-colonization.

Read more at the link

Step 1: Introduce hard liquors--industrial distillates--to native populations with no experience with drinks of such mind-bending potency. 4/ Step 2: Clutch their pearls, and recoil in horror at the drunkenness and violence that predictably occurs within the native community and against white colonizers and liquor purveyors. In Africa, they called it the “black peril.”

Step 3: Cite that drunkenness as evidence of natives’ inability to be “civilized,” thus justifying white political domination over them. Africa, Asia, North America, even Ireland--everywhere it was the same pattern. See also: opium in China.

Hard liquor (whiskey, rum, gin, vodka, schnapps, etc.) was the perfect tool of exploitation. Highly potent. Concentrated. Easy to transport. Highly addictive. Didn’t spoil like fermented brews. Easy to make. Incredibly lucrative.

European colonizers would share liquor as a gesture of goodwill, and then once the alcoholic stupor set in, get tribal leaders to scrawl an “X” and sign-away their land, resources, and even people. 8/ More importantly, promoting widespread addiction to liquor made indigenous populations reliant on the colonists, just as junkies rely on drug dealers. Again, see also: opium in China, and two Opium Wars resisting it.

What did natives have that colonists wanted? Ivory, food, furs, ivory, exotic ostrich feathers, rubber, ivory... the land and the minerals in it, and everything living on it. Also: ivory. And finally, the natives themselves were commodities: as labor or slaves.

If you’re a European trader & the locals trade ivory or furs for (say) your iron kettle, the entire village can use that for 20 years. Blankets might last 5 years before they need to trade with you again. There’s little demand for your wares. Or you. But if you can hook the community on booze that ONLY YOU supply, they’ll have to come back to you all. the. time. Now you’re indispensable. Addiction is self-renewing demand. Becoming the sole drug dealer to a community of addicts is ridiculously profitable. Need proof? Riddle me this: What was the first factory on the continent of Africa? Of course, Africa is rich in every resource imaginable: minerals, gems, ivory, rubber, oil, cocoa, fruit and timber that could be processed into goods.

Here it is. In 1881, the Dutch Transvaal government granted a monopoly on distilled brandy to the Hatherley Distillery near Pretoria. The company was called “De Eerste Fabriken”--the First Factory. It wasn't first because the white settlers drank it. They largely didn’t.

Instead, with the discovery of gold & diamonds, white mine-owners needed black labor. They lured workers to the mines with promises of liquor, knowing if they had large booze debts to pay back, tribesmen would have to work longer, rather than returning to their village.

(South African Breweries--today the world’s largest brewer--was founded soon thereafter to provide British-style beer to a white clientele, while the cheap liquor from Hatherley was reserved for indenturing black workers.)

Consequently, every native leader worth his salt was a prohibitionist--defending his people against the “white man’s wicked water.” King Moshoeshoe in Lesotho. Chief Waterboer in Griqualand. Tembu headman Mankai Renga & hundreds more. In Africa as around the globe, temperance and prohibitionism became the banner for subaltern sovereignty against the white colonial junkiemaker.

Which brings us back to Botswana. Or Bechuanaland, as it was then known. It had long been ruled by tribal chiefs, led by Bamangwato King Khama III ("the Great"), who’d allied with the British against the Dutch Boers.

Three months after ascending the throne in 1873, he informed all white traders on his territory that trading liquor w/ his people was now prohibited. “If, when you give one another a drink, you turn around and give it to my people also, I shall regard you as blameworthy.” Europeans scoffed & kept selling--until Khama expelled them all: “I am black and am chief of my own country. When you white men rule then you will do as you like. At present I rule, and I shall maintain my laws which you insult and despise.” Prohibition was sovereignty. “There are 3 things which distress me—war, selling people, and drink,” Khama wrote the British in 1876, asking the Queen’s protection. “All these I shall find in the Boers.”

By 1884, Bechuanaland was British protectorate, respecting Khama’s prohibition. Meanwhile the 1890s, Britain’s Cape Colony was dominated by the notorious Cecil Rhodes: founder of the De Beers diamond syndicate, quintessential imperialist and unapologetic white supremacist.

“I contend that we are the finest race in the world and that the more of the world we inhabit the better it is for the human race,” Rhodes wrote. “Africa is still lying ready for us--it is our duty to take it.” In 1889, Rhodes organized his mining interests into the chartered British South Africa Company (BSAC), which had its own government and army. In 1890, he also became Prime Minister of the Cape Colony. In the First Matabele War (1893-94), 750 BSAC “police” with machine guns killed over 10,000 Matabele spearmen, bringing Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) under Company control. Khama’s Tswana tribesmen served on the side of the Company.

According to BSAC shareholder reports, one of the first items of business wherever the Company set-up control was to farm-out the liquor trade to white settlers. Profits are profits, regardless of prohibition promises. Rhodes famously dreamed of building a trans-African railroad connecting Cape Town to Cairo... which meant taking Bechuanaland, even though Khama was regaled as a loyal British ally.

From 1892-95, the conniving Rhodes used every administrative trick possible to place Khama’s Bechuanaland Protectorate under the sovereignty of the Company, but was stymied either by Khama or the Colonial Office in London. By 1895, Khama had enough. Together w/ fellow chiefs Bathoen and Sebele, he voyaged to London to petition Queen Victoria’s government to keep Bechuanaland out of Rhodes’ grasp.

“The two points on which the natives seem to be apprehensive,” the Imperial Secretary in Cape Town telegraphed London, “are the questions of land and liquor.” The 3 kings arrived in September 1895, and were supposed to meet with Colonial Secretary Joseph Chamberlain. But he--like the rest of the Queen’s government--had left for their annual vacations until November. “I have for years tried to abolish the use of strong liquors in my country, and prevent the importation of European drinks,” Khama told the London press, lamenting that his efforts “should be hampered by agitation in my country and outside it.” While awaiting for an audience with Chamberlain or Queen Victoria, Khama, Sebele and Bathoen toured the width and breadth of the British Isles, winning British public opinion to the side of their temperance and sovereignty.

The Review of Reviews reprinted Khama’s plea that “you, O British people, will not paralyse my efforts by compelling me to submit to the invasion of my country by the trader with his poisonous liquors.” If Britain were to ignore Khama’s calls for help, the papers editorialized, then the British people “should stand condemned as the most God-forsaken set of canting hypocrites on the whole round earth.” Following the kings‘ temperance visits, a flood of popular petitions inundated the Colonial Office from across the country, strenuously opposing giving Bechuanaland over to Rhodes‘ Company. Prior to the meeting, the kings plead their case to Chamberlain: “We fear the Company because we think they will take our land and sell it to others. We fear that they will fill our country with liquor shops, as they have Bulawayo.”

The kings offered concessions and the payment of additional poll taxes, if London would only delay the inevitable annexation by Rhodes’ Company by 10 years. “Do not let them bring liquor into our country to kill our people speedily.”

On Nov. 6, 1895, Chamberlain finally met with the chiefs to dictate terms. The chiefs would pay a hut tax and sacrifice a strip of land for Rhodes‘ railway in exchange for maintaining their sovereignty as a protectorate. “White man’s strong drink shall not be brought for sale into the country, and those who attempt to deal in it or give it away to black men will be punished. No new liquor license shall be issued, and no existing liquor license shall be renewed,” Chamberlain declared.

Weeks later, Chamberlain escorted the Chiefs to Windsor castle for an audience with “the Great White Queen” herself, Queen Victoria, who confirmed the arrangements that Chamberlain had made. “The sale of strong drink shall be prohibited in your country &those who attempt to supply it shall be severely punished,” the Queen declared. “I feel strongly in this matter, & am glad to see that the chiefs have determined to keep so great a curse from the people.” Pleased, though unaware of British protocols, Sebele told the press: “Her Majesty if a very charming old lady... But I had no idea that she was so short and stout... I shall go back home contented.” They did. Far less pleased was Cecil Rhodes, who telegraphed London: “I do object to being beaten by three canting natives especially on the score of temperance.”

And then: “IT IS HUMILIATING TO BE UTTERLY BEATEN BY THESE NI***RS.”

Bechuanaland’s stay of execution may have been short lived, were it not for what happened next. Upon returning to Bechuanaland, Khama met Sir Leander Starr Jameson, who was leading a BSAC military force. Jameson’s orders were to instigate an insurrection across the border in the Dutch Transvaal, whipping-up British sympathizers and lead to an all-out British invasion to topple the rival Dutch Boers. But in a crowning irony, Jameson’s Raid was doomed by liquor. To take the Dutch by surprise, the British would cut the telegraph lines so Boer outposts couldn’t sound the alarm of invasion. Instead of cutting the telegraph lines, a drunken British soldier instead cut a farmer’s wire fence. The Dutch anticipated and tracked the whole raid, ambushed and decimated the attackers & imprisoned Rhodes’ brother Frank.

London condemned Rhodes‘ reckless adventurism, forcing him to step down from the BSAC in disgrace. The imperial threat to Bechuanaland’s sovereignty and sobriety was over. The British honored Khama’s prohibition & sovereignty right through Botswana’s independence in 1966. Today the bronze Three Dikgosi Monument honoring Khama, Bathoen & Sebele is the most visited destination in the 🇧🇼 capital of Gaborone.

Were it not for their 1895 temperance mission to Britain, what is today Botswana would’ve long been absorbed into either Britain’s Cape Colony (now South Africa) or Rhodesia (Zimbabwe)--much to their people’s detriment--instead of becoming its own independent country. Without prohibition, there’d be no Botswana. And in honor of their Founding Fathers, Botswana emblazoned the picture of the chiefs‘ 1895 temperance mission to London on their 100 Pula note.

HEY! If you liked this liquor-politics thread, may I humbly suggest checking-out my new “Smashing the Liquor Machine: A Global History of Prohibition” book, which contains literally dozens of them.

#Botswana #Liquor #Prohibition #Colonization #History #alco-colonization

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

Note

OK, I know this will probably be painful, and I may be a bad mutual for asking but...would you be willing to identify what, in your opinion are the bottom five worst Shadow adaptations, and give a detailed breakdown of why they were so lousy?

Oh christ, okay. I don't think you're gonna get as much of a detailed breakdown for these compared to some of the others, because I take more issue with adaptations that do have good qualities but also big or deep problems to talk about.

For example, I can't include Garth Ennis's Shadow in this list because the comic has a lot of strong points to it, despite a deeply, deeply detestable take on The Shadow's character, where as the rest of the Dynamite run doesn't reach neither the lows or highs of his run. Likewise, Andy Helfer's run has a couple or a couple dozen moments every issue that make me want to tear something to shreds in frustration, but it's also at many points a really good comic with great art and some occasionally very inspired writing. Really, I'd just be repeating myself talking about what I hate in those.

But, fine, let's list some of the others.

I think I'm just gonna have to get the elephant in the room out of the way here, and address that I won't be including Si Spurrier's 2017 Dynamite mini in this list, and I think at least some of you might be angry it's not Number 1 by default. I'm doing this because I intend to one day really revisit it, think about it and it's reception and what it was trying to do, and talk about it on it's own, now that it's been 5 years and everyone has moved on and we can maybe talk about it without kneejerk hatred driving everyone nuts (your mileage may vary on how warranted it was).

I'm also not going to be talking about James Patterson's new novel, because I haven't read it. It seems to be considered a forgettable potboiler by mainstream critics and a resounding failure by everyone who likes the character whether they've read the book or not, and frankly I don't have it in me to learn what the fuzz was about anytime soon, I got my hands way too full as is.

And I won't be including the Batman x Shadow crossovers here, because again, they do have a lot of virtues that put them far ahead of some of the really worst Shadow media, and I've talked enough about how badly I think they mangled The Shadow, which is really the big problem I have with them (well, that and Tim Sale blatantly copying a Michael Kaluta cover, that was really shitty). I don't really hate them anymore, I just get tired and frustrated thinking about parts of them, I said my piece as is. Really, my frustration over this comic is what inspired me to start writing about The Shadow here, so I guess in a way I do owe it at least that much.

5: Archie Comics's Shadow

I think some of you might be wondering why this isn't ranked higher, but to be honest, I don't actually harbor any hatred towards this. I mean, I have to include it, but I find it kinda silly that some people even today actually care about the existence of this comic enough to hate it.

For fans back then? Oh yeah, obviously, but this dropped to such instantaneous backlash that it never really got to live past 6 issues. Really, everything wrong about it can be understood immediately from the covers, and I've actually read the comic in it's entirety to see if there was anything worth taking. I found only a couple of things of note but, no, this really is just a painfully mediocre superhero comic that happens to have a couple of Shadow names in it. If anything, it gets too much credit.

The actual contents of what it is are never going to justify it's reputation, but the existence of it and the disproportionate response to it is the funniest and most enduring legacy it could ever ask for. This whole comic is The Shadow's version of Spongebob's embarassing Christmas photo.

4: David Liss's The Shadow Now

This is another "The Shadow as an immortal in modern times" comic and I think you may have noticed the pattern with those by now. I may revisit this eventually and I do have some moments from it saved for reference, but overall: It sucks, and it doesn't even suck in a way that lets me talk much about it, it's a diet version of Chaykin's Shadow. If Archie's Shadow is a generic mediocre superhero comic wearing The Shadow's name, this is a generic crime story playing beats from movie. The Shadow is an asshole and not even a grandiose or sinister one, he just feels like a sleazy douche in a costume. The art is a 50/50 coin toss between appropriately moody and "Google images with a filter on them", I don't remember anything about the plot other than Khan had a bomb again and he had a daughter, and there were new versions of the agents and the Harry stand-in turned evil and Lamont shacked up with Margo's descendant which, uh, no. I don't really hate this but I really have nothing nice to say about this comic other than Colton Worley's art is nice sometimes. I can't really muster anything else to say here.

3: Invisible Avenger

ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

ZZZZZZZZZZZZ

ZZZZZZZZZZ...

...uuh, wha-

Yeah, I remember nothing about this one other than it's painfully boring and nothing about it, nothing at all, works in the slightest and I drift off to sleep even now trying to give this a rewatch. To be honest pretty much every other Shadow serial not starred by Victor Jory sucks and I don't really have anything to say about them, this one is just the worst of the lot. I dearly wish there was a good Shadow tv series but, if it was going to be like this pilot? Good riddance.

2: Harlan Ellison's The New York Review of Bird

This isn't really a Shadow story as much as it's a Harlan Ellison story that happens to feature The Shadow, but man am I glad that Ellison's "Dragon Shadows" was canned, because holy shit what a goddamn nightmare Harlan Ellison writing The Shadow for real could have been, going purely by the one time he ever touched the character. New York Review of Bird is a purely farcical parody story that wears real, real thin even before "Uncle Kent" shows up, and we get to see in it what is by far the most detestable and irredeemable take on The Shadow ever put on print, and not even in a critique or deconstructive way or anything that could be remotely worth discussing.

I don't hold any particular affection for Harlan Ellison and his writing (despite liking some of it) and I've come to notice the major red flag that is finding someone who looks up to Harlan Ellison in any capacity as a person, and this story in particular really feels like Ellison aggressively trying to channel his jackass tendencies through every line, just him being nasty because he built a personal brand on being nasty. The only reason this isn't Number One is because it's a very short story that saw zero influence or reputation, and thus it only exists as a brief mention in The Shadow wiki, and a brief mention is all it really calls for.

1: Howard Chaykin's Blood & Judgment

I'm guessing most of you already knew this one was in the top spot before I started writing.

I would actually rather not write a big piece on Blood & Judgment, because I think (or at least I hope) it's influence on The Shadow has waned a lot over the years and I would prefer to draw it the least amount of attention possible, but if I HAVE to talk about this, I guess I'd rather just vomit this out of my circuits now instead of giving it it's own post.

I would prefer to use a less unpleasant image on my blog, but if I'm going to talk about this comic, there's no image to better convey it than this drawing of macho asshole Cranston holding a sexualized mannequin at gunpoint. By leaps and bounds, Blood & Judgment is the most misogynistic Shadow story I've ever read. It's ironic that Chaykin justified the rampant misogyny he gave The Shadow with the idea that this is just a man from the 30s would act like, when he admits in the same breath that he never even touched the stories, and he wrote a story more sexist and demeaning to it's female characters than anything, literally anything, written in the Shadow pulps. It's almost impressive even.

I'll paste some segments from Randy Raynaldo's review

In Flagg, he intended to present his own point of view on American society while keeping his work tongue in cheek and acessible. But this vision dimmed, and Flagg had become a vehicle by which Chaykin could play out fetishes and portray gratuitous and stylish violence.

In The Shadow, stripped of the political and social veneer which was supposed to make Flagg unique, Chaykin's sensibilities and excesses become disturbingly apparent. For all of his liberal posturing, Chaykin's work demonstrates zero difference from the same kind of mentality exploited and made popular by similarly violent popular culture icons like Dirty Harry and Death Wish.

More than half a dozen individuals are indiscriminately and violently murdered in the first issue. Although the victims are characters who played major roles in the myth of The Shadow, we feel little sympathy for them, even for those of us who knew these characters at the outset. Who dies is unimportant, it's how they die that is the fascination.

Chaykin uses sexual decadence as a means by which to establish villains, and undercuts this device by making the protagonists as promiscuous as the villains. For all of Chaykin's seemingly liberal leanings, he demonstrates very little sensitivity in his portrayal of women.

Because everything works on rules of three, this comic also follows the pattern with other works mentioned here, as this isn't Howard Chaykin writing The Shadow: it's The Shadow reimagined as a Howard Chaykin character. He looks and acts exactly like Reuben Flagg and the typical macho protagonist of Chaykin's other works, he's a cynical sleaze with an entirely new origin who half-assedly dons a garb to machine gun people, and I already wrote a separate piece on why the machineguns are kind of emblematic of everything wrong with this take.

I understand that Chaykin has, or used to have, a big following of sorts, and I've tried to wrap my head around this for years, but I genuinely still don't get why Shadow fans stomach this comic unless they happen to be Chaykin fans first and foremost, I really don't. Everything, fucking everything Shadow fans hate about modern depictions of the character can be traced right back to this. The parts that stuck and changed the character for the worse, like him being defined as an immortal, bloodthirsty warmonger who got all his skills and powers from a magic city in Tibet, or Lamont Cranston being a coward who fears and hates the Shadow, or his agents being expendable slaves, stuff that has been ingrained into the mythos through this and the Alec Baldwin movie and other comics, to the point that people now think of it as the norm, that it's the baseline of what The Shadow is, and I hate it, I genuinely fucking hate it,

I hate it so much that it's a big part of the reason why I created this blog and why I want so badly to get to write The Shadow, because I plainly couldn't stand not having ways to tell people that this is all wrong, that this is actively shooting down the character's odds for success, and that they are missing out on something really great, because the well has been tainted with garbage that won't go away and everytime I read the words Shambala in a Shadow comic, even an otherwise good or great one, I get just a wee bit cross.

The only semi-redeeming aspects I can think of for this comic is one or two cool moments, like when The Shadow hijacks a concert using his Devil's Whisper or when he tames dogs with a stare. Just breadcrumbs of "not garbage" amidst an ocean of anything but. I hate that talking about why I hate this comic in-length can almost feel like I'm still enticing people to check it out of curiosity, but if you wanna do that, fine, just know this: The worst part of Blood & Judgment, even if you don't care at all about what it did to The Shadow, is that it's boring.

It is a deeply boring comic. If you like Howard Chaykin to begin with, you'll probably like this okay (although even Chaykin fans told me that this is his weakest work and that even he seems to agree). If you don't, I plain don't see what you could get out of this.

The comic itself is just nothing. It's the comic book equivalent of a pre-schooler trying to get a reaction by swearing. It has nothing whatsoever other than half-assed attempts at shock value. The plot isn't there, the ideas are stale, the dialogue is needlessly oblique and comprised entirely of unfinished sentences, interrupted conversations and one-liners without build-up. The characters are all unlikable and uninteresting stooges with no personality, or joyless cartoons. There's no heart or emotion or logic, and it isn't even funny enough to succeed as just an outrageous exercise in 80s excess. There's nothing in here.

I get "why" it was popular enough at the time, a rising star creator penning a modern revival of an old character based on controversy that pissed off the old fans, it's an old story that still gets repeated today. But manufactured controversy is not a replacement for storytelling and it rarely ever exists to benefit the people who actually want to enjoy the stories, it only benefits those for the crude benefit of those who want to sell you something out of the controversy.

I guess they got their money's worth back then.

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

Phew, okay, I did it, I finally vomited out a piece on Blood & Judgment and some others, allright, let's put this piece of negativity behind us now.

#replies tag #the shadow #pulp heroes #shadow comics #shadow films #dc comics

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fatalism-and-villainy · 3 years

Note

hmm, reverse unpopular opinions meme for mo xuanyu?

So the first thing I love about Mo Xuanyu is that he occupies one of the kind of porous places in the narrative that I talk about in this post, that provides the “potential to expand [the story] beyond the bounds of its structure.” He’s so central to the plot, but there’s so much about him and his motivations we don’t know, that can’t be known. It’s a narrative gap that beckons for exploration!

Like many other people, I’m of course uncomfortable with the way he’s not given any interiority and is basically there as a plot device, but I do find the hints and lacunae surrounding him quite fascinating.

Like Jin Guangyao, Wei Wuxian, and others, he’s representative of the power of reputation in this setting. But there’s a totality to his embodiment of that theme that isn’t there with the others - he’s the natural endpoint of the circulation of secondhand accounts and hearsay, being entirely made up of, and eclipsed by, the stories told about him. But what I like about that in his particular case is that the available information about him seems deliberately provocative, like it’s actively inviting the reader to challenge it. I mean, did anyone actually take “he harassed the Jin sect disciples/Jin Guangyao” at face value, given how much it resembles a garden-variety homophobic smear campaign? And yet there’s no getting to the truth of what happened, no skimming off the surface impression to get to the actual series of events. So we’re left with a character who seems very much like the kind of Bad Representation that I love about these books, and also a commentary on Bad Representation.

(See, my preferred interpretation is that Mo Xuanyu being a sexual harasser is a convenient narrative for JGY to lean into in banishing him, but that Mo Xuanyu is also genuinely bad at boundaries and takes rejection very badly - it’s the Mental Illness - and also has a tendency to interpret any rejection as being based in homophobia, for not entirely unjustified reasons. That, combined with his inclination towards latching on very enthusiastically to people, does make him quite pushy.)

Oh, and I also love his parallels with Jin Guangyao! I think Jin Guangyao really did feel affectionately towards him, especially at first - he looked at the boy that his father chose to acknowledge, who got everything Jin Guangyao was punished for wanting, and yet saw his own innocence and hope in him, and remembered his own mother’s dreams for him, and couldn’t resist the urge to take him under his wing. It makes their eventual falling out all the more heartbreaking.

(And while I am a bit disgruntled with some of the narrative/thematic implications of CQL making Jin Guangyao one of Mo Xuanyu’s intended victims, I do really like what it does for his character - it bestows more prominence on their relationship for Mo Xuanyu, and gives the impression of him as someone capable of violently and insistently turning on people he used to love. Which I find very crunchy.)

As for what I love about my Mo Xuanyu - i.e. the parts of him that are more headcanon-based:

Well, see above, for starters - his boundary issues, and his intense attachment cycles that he doesn’t know how to manage in a healthy way. The way he’s doing a lot wrong, in how he relates to others, but could do more right if he were more valued, and more secure in his life and relationships with others.

I really like how enmeshed he is in the hierarchies of his society even as he chafes against them. He knows he’s treated poorly, regarded poorly, and yet there’s a subconscious part of him that feels he deserves it. So my Sangyu fic featured him participating in the kind of obsequiousness and passivity expected from someone of his station towards a social superior, and deeply resenting that impulse in himself while also embracing it. He has so much anger bubbling under the surface just threatening to burst out at any moment, but because it doesn’t feel totally legitimate or justified to him, and because he doesn’t really have a sanctioned means to express it, it really has nowhere to go. And the biggest act of violence he displays is towards himself. :((

Oh, and I love my headcanon of him being very into art and aesthetics and decorative things. (Esp because it’s an interesting contrast to the “bad” makeup he wears.) I want him to dedicate his time to flower arrangements and write self-indulgent romance novels on the side.

#i have accomplished various tasks i was meaning to and my brain is at least semi-functioning #so i'm getting to these asks now #mo xuanyu #paradife loft #replies #awkwardly memes #my meta #headcanoning #untaming #paradife-loft

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duuhrayliegh · 3 years

Text

watch your six - part four

pairing: eventual bucky x reader (still a slow burn but it’s getting closer)

warnings: some violence but not really, men being creepy, language (one f bomb), also badly written speaking while crying, aaand i think that’s it

word count: a little over 2300

a/n: aaaah it’s part four babes!!!! the response to this has been so positive i’m in love with y’all!!! <3 <3 <3 i’m still way behind on my classwork and going through a terrible break up but we’re pushing through here

p.s.: my requests are still open if y’all want me to write yall something! aaalso, there’s a bucky short coming tomorrow ;)) <3

series m.list

ray’s m.list

**********************************

This strange man’s hand was still caressing my hair as he smirked down at me. Running has hands up to the root and then yanking my head upwards to face him directly. “When I speak to you, you look me in the eye, little one.” Not one to show my fear, at least not to men like him, I scoffed. Thick brows shot towards his hairline and a twitch in his jaw as he clenched it. The hold he had in my hair gave him leverage over me. I winced as he lifted his arm to bring my face closer to his. A small whimper escaped the back of my throat, saliva gathering in my mouth. “Don’t test me, little one.” I sneered then spat in his face, the wet substance sticking to his face across his nose and cheek.

Bringing a hand up to his face to swipe the thick liquid from his skin, he glowered as he pulled his palm away. Then several things happened at once. The man forced a harsh breath out and then I was facing the ground with a sting on my left cheek. A gasp left my lips, he just slapped me. Who the hell does he think he is? I shook my head and then leveled my gaze with the man’s. I’m almost positive that my cheek is sporting a bright red handprint that does nothing for my complexion.

“What the hell man? What was that for?” I groaned while attempting to soothe my throbbing cheek on my shoulder. I mean, was it kind of justified? I did just spit in this man's face. No, he totally deserved that. After releasing his grip on my hair, he transferred his hands to the sides of the chair I was chained to. The metal scraping along the concrete floor caused a loud screech to reverberate through the small room.

“I said not to test me, bitch.” the man growled out as he pushed my chair onto the back two legs. I’m starting to think that this is a bit more serious than I originally thought. “Now, you’re going to sit here like a good little bitch and tell me what I want to know.” He retreated only to grab the chair that Suits used. Slamming against the pavement he straddled the chair with his forearms resting on the back.

“How many missions did you participate in?” I released a groan and rotated my head, leaning my head back.

“I already told your friend,” I tilted my head to speak directly to the absolute jerk-wad of a man in front of me, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man quirked an eyebrow and clenched his jaw. He rolled his neck, causing the bones in it to crack and then stood. He walked to the other side of the metal table that sat in the middle of the room. The sound of a zipper caused me to snap my head to where he was standing. The tactical vest he was wearing dropped to the metal surface allowing for a loud thunk to flow through the room. He stretched out his shoulders and swung his arms out in front as if he was trying to increase the blood flow. I’m the one who’s literally tied to a freaking chair, what does he need blood flow for? My breathing quickened, calm down, don’t show any fear. He popped the knuckles of his hands and approached me.

“I’m not a patient man.” He bent at the knees and leaned his face closer to mine. Exhaling into my face, he maintained eye contact with me. “And you’re not acting like the good little girl we both know you oh-so-desperately want to be.” I rolled my eyes at that, apparently that was the wrong thing to do in this man’s face. His left eye twitched as he stared at me.

“Do you think you could back up? Your breath reeks, man.” I have no concern for my own well-being do I? The man’s head tilted to the side and then he wolfed out a gruff laugh. He shifted his weight to land on the heels of his feet and threw his body into the laugh. It was a bit disconcerting to see this man laughing so wholeheartedly in a situation that didn’t feel funny to me. Another blow to the side of my face was issued, however this time he didn’t stop. Several open handed hits were delivered, all the while he was resetting my head back by grasping my chin. My breathing was becoming labored, my chest heaving up and down in a frenzy. He gripped my chin and jerked it upwards so he could stand at his full height to tower over me.

“How many missions did they send you on?” He demanded, increasing his hold on my face surely leaving sickening bruises that would match his fingers perfectly. At some point, tears began running down my red cheeks.

“I don’t kno-ow what you’re talking ab-about!” Tears streaming down my swollen face, “I s-swear to god, I don’t know wh-what you mean!” Choked sobs were preventing me from breathing correctly. The man grabbed my shoulders and shook my body.

“Calm the fuck down and speak clearly.” Small hiccups were escaping my mouth without permission. Why am I letting this guy get to me? What the hell is happening? “How many missions did they send you on?” I broke down again, fat tears leaking out of my eyes.

“I ju-just want to go h-h-home. I s-swear I don’t kno-ow anything!” I shouted in his face. He glowered at me and lifted his hand from my shoulder. My whole body tensed as I readied myself to the impact.

“Johnson.” The door burst open, stopping Johnson from landing another hit. “This is not what you were supposed to be doing.” Suits walked back in the room. Johnson backed down, lowering his hand and turning to the new member in the room. “Sir, I was told to interrogate the prisoner.”

“Yes, Johnson, interrogate her. Not beat her to a pulp.” He gestured wildly with his hand. “If the boss found out you were doing this, he’d have your head on a platter.” Suits took steps closer toward us and Johnson shrunk into himself. “Get out of here before I call him about this.” Johnson nodded quickly and left the room quickly, leaving his tactical vest on the table.

I was still quietly crying while strapped to the metal frame of the chair. Suits approached me while pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. He raised it to my face and I jolted backwards away from his touch. “Easy now, I’m only here to help.” Is he seriously pulling a good cop, bad cop routine on me right now? He wiped my cheeks of the salty remnants, “Now, how can I help you besides that?”

“You co-could let me go h-home.” I tried to say without stuttering, clearly unsuccessful. I didn’t want to show my emotions but really at this point, could it get worse?

“Awe, girly. You know I can’t do that until you tell me what I want to know.” He began to drag the chair next to me, back to the opposite side of the table. This created an obstacle between the two of us, which made me slightly more comfortable knowing he wouldn’t be able to reach me as quickly.

I heaved a sigh, “but I don’t know anything.” My weeping had come to a definite end, making way for frustration. My face heated for a different reason than being struck several times.

“See, this is where we disagree because I know that you’re lying to me.” He shook his finger in my face and I scrunched my brows together, flicking my eyes between his finger and face.

“You’re kidding me. I told you I don’t know about any missions.”

“Oh really? Then who’s Gemini?” He reclined in his chair, looking smug. “Actually, you know more importantly, who is Libra? The whole thing is just fascinating to me.”

“I don’t know what any of that is. I swear to whatever you want me to.”

“Then why do I have this that says you do.” He held up the manila folder that he first walked in with. I shrugged my shoulders.

“Whatever is in there is lying to you.” He cocked his head to the side and flipped the folder open. He removed a photograph from the folder and placed it on the table in front of me. Staring back at me, was a slightly younger version of myself with shorter hair. A large X was drawn across the whole picture and underneath it read the words ‘Agent Libra.’

My eyes widened, “I have never seen that before, in my life.” Suits sighed heavily and then began flipping through the rest of the papers.

“So what is the Svengali?” He threw out another paper and I glanced down at it. It looked like a typed report of some kind. Much of it redacted by thick black lines. The words Libra, Gemini, and Svengali were visible amidst the sea of dark ink.

*****************************

A ping sounded throughout the room causing the screen of the phone to illuminate. A metal hand reached for the thin device.

New mission alert. You’re needed. Meet at the compound.

Great, this is just what Bucky needed to keep him distracted. Sleep never came easy to him so he was spending copious amounts of time trying to catch up on what he missed out on. Steve told him to make a list and Sam kept rambling on about some gay Marvin man? Bucky much prefered to do things on his own. He hasn’t had help for over ninety years, why should he need it now?

Throwing on his leather jacket as he began to leave his apartment, he checked the pockets for the keys to his motorcycle. He also made sure to grab his gloves. Even though T’Challa and Shuri were good enough to give him a new vibranium arm, Bucky still wasn’t too keen on being stared at in public. It was better for everyone if he just kept the arm tucked away as much as he could while around strangers.

He did one last once over of his apartment before locking the door behind him. He jogged down the stairs towards his bike. It definitely was his pride and joy, it was the first thing that he bought with his own money since 1943. His apartment was courtesy of Pepper Potts, no thanks to Tony’s complaining. Tony and Bucky had eventually worked out their differences, to say the least. Tony still hadn’t fully forgiven the Winter Soldier for killing his parents, and neither had Bucky so they were agreeing to disagree.

The ride to the compound from Brooklyn wasn’t a hard one. It gave Bucky time to appreciate the scenery around him. Slowing to a stop at a four way stop just outside of the compound, Bucky dropped his feet to the tarmac below, stabilizing the bike between his legs. He tilted his head back and felt the warm rays of the sun on his face. Warm was something that Bucky was still getting used to, it was easier in Wakanda. He had his own hut, voluntary therapy sessions, and easy-going check ups with Shuri in her lab.

Everything was simpler in Wakanda, but what Bucky missed most from Wakanda was the stability. He didn’t have to worry about missions, or keeping up with Steve, or the crushing guilt that he felt whenever he saw Tony. After parking his bike at the facility, Bucky made his way to the meeting room. Dark wooden tables in an L-shape appeared in his view. Steve and Sam were standing in front of the large monitor that was displaying images of an unknown, yet familiar looking woman.

“Tony, we don’t know if she knows anything.” Natasha said, apparently trying to rationalize with someone else in the room.

“Natasha, we don’t know that she doesn’t not know anything.” Tony shot back, Sam turned slowly and opened his mouth with a confused expression on his face.

“Tony, we aren’t in an episode of FRIENDS. This is serious. We need to decide if this is worth pursuing or not.”

“Wilson, that’s all well and good but we have to acknowledge that this woman could get us our first real break in our search.” Tony explained while taking deep breaths.

“What are we deciding?” Bucky interrupted as he plopped into one of the chairs. Now that Bucky has been given his freedom back, he’s able to display a difference between his mission self and his regular self.

“This woman here,” Steve gestured to the woman on the screen, “is a member of the Virago. It’s an international branch of SHIELD that was believed to be infiltrated by HYRDA years ago.”

“This is the agent code named Libra. Her last mission was with another agent code named Gemini. The mission report has since been lost to us. All we know is that Libra and Gemini were instructed to watch a Svengali safehouse. Apparently something went wrong and only Libra made it out alive.” Tony added, “Which is why we need to find her and see what she knows.” “Tony! There’s no guarantee that she has any knowledge of this mission.” The redhead stressed as she leaned over the table towards the man she was speaking to.

“I think we should find her.” The words left Bucky’s mouth before he could stop them. All motion in the room stopped.

“Um, did the Manchurian Candidate just agree with me?” Tony questioned as the rest of the room remained quiet.

“Look, I’m not necessarily agreeing with you.” Bucky started.

“Nope, can’t take it back.” Tony mused, “Already said it.” Bucky sighed and shook his head.

“Why do you think we should go after her Buck?” Steve inquired. Bucky’s brows furrowed and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I think I know her from somewhere.”

#watch your six #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky x you #eventual bucky x reader #female reader insert #Sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n

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deborahdeshoftim5779 · 3 years

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BBC Merlin 4x05: His Father’s Son

Here's a round-up of my main observations from BBC Merlin's "His Father's Son" (4x05).

1- MERLIN AS A KNIGHT

I have to admit that Merlin as a sorcerer and trusted adviser appeals to me the most, but I did write a lengthy post analysing how Arthur had turned Merlin into an excellent fighter. This refutes claims that Merlin gave more to Arthur than he received in return.

At the beginning of 4x05, we see Merlin selected to play a new role: that of knight. How did this come about? Arthur Pendragon is best known for his skills as a warrior, but he deserves more credit for his military tactics. These destroy the popular yet false idea that he is unintelligent. More on the latter in a forthcoming post.

One of Arthur’s favourite tactics is using decoys. Previous examples of him using decoys include: The Castle of Fyrien (3x07), when Arthur used Merlin as a decoy to entrap Cenred’s soldiers; Aithusa (4x04), when Arthur used himself as a decoy to get Sir Percival to safety; Arthur’s Bane Part 2 (5x02), when Arthur uses Merlin as a decoy to enrage the slave traders before they escape-- by far my favourite example.

All things considered, I don’t think it takes long for Arthur to choose Merlin. Furthermore, this decision may have taken place before they reached their selected location, as Agravaine later mentions a previous attack by Caerleon on the border. This choice demonstrates that Arthur has higher confidence in Merlin's abilities than he does of in his knights-- else he would have chosen them. We must conclude that Merlin is Arthur's best fighter, though at first glance, we wonder why an unarmed man follows trained knights into battle.

Merlin is sharp, fast, has high stamina, and is incredibly resourceful. Most of all, however, he is incredibly brave. In fact, when rewatching 1x02, I was surprised to see Arthur acknowledge that Merlin was "braver than you look." This despite Arthur’s frustration that Merlin did not try hard enough during practice ("Come on, Merlin: I've got a tournament to win!").

What’s more, in that same episode, Merlin complains about his first day, but later on, we see his fascination wth the ongoing tournament. Then he admitted to Gaius that working for Arthur (in the context of said tournament) "isn't totally horrible all the time." It took one day for him to change his opinion!

Sure, Merlin would continue to treat the fighting as pointless violence, and Arthur as having nothing more in his head than a desire to knock "the seven bells" out of other people (3x04). However, even in 1x02, when he applauds Arthur's fighting, his actions tell a different story. We associate this habit of liking something whilst pretending otherwise to Arthur, yet Merlin has it as well.

As I have said before, Merlin and Arthur have profound differences, yet are profoundly alike.

2- MERLIN AS A SERVANT

It comes as no surprise that Merlin would return to serving after the beginning of 4x05. However, what that change represents sets the tone for this entire episode: Arthur dismissing Merlin's counsel repeatedly in favour of listening to his uncle.

When Arthur says, "so please, stick to what you do know," you have to wonder whether Merlin remembered being entrusted with the role of knight. Now, Arthur puts him back in his place.

Here's another example: "My conscience is clean, which is more than I can say for my room, so just... do your job, will you?" Yet just yesterday, that job involved Merlin risking his life against enemy forces by dressing as a knight.

By the way, you can tell that Arthur doesn’t believe his own excuses, because he keeps using the passive voice to justify killing Caerleon: “...a show of strength was necessary… an example had to be made… My conscience is clean…”

Merlin’s face after Arthur claims he doesn’t need anyone is self-explanatory.

3- NEW THOUGHTS ON ANNIS

Is Queen Annis a good person? Actually, no.

First of all, she knows and approves of her husband invading foreign kingdoms to plunder their wealth. Such invasions naturally cost not only the lives of Arthur's men, but her own, too.

Furthermore, despite accepting Arthur's offer of a fight by single combat, she is prepared to cheat by enlisting Morgana's power. Perhaps if Arthur had died, too, she would have felt some remorse. Yet she still takes a monumental risk with Arthur's life in blatant violation of the knight's code. One has to wonder about her reaction had Camelot plotted against her armies in the same way.

Then we have Annis calmly ordering Merlin’s execution without giving him a chance to explain himself. The lack of emotion in her voice suggests she has done this before.

Speaking of cruelty, Annis’ champion seems to enjoy inflicting pain on his enemies, yet the Queen claims that he “served my husband well.” I dread to think what she means by “served”.

I will also note that Queen Annis disdains magic, referring to Morgana as “witch”. As I have said before, Uther did not begin prejudice against magic; sorcerers were disliked and feared elsewhere, too, including by those who disliked Uther. Many sorcerers caused this prejudice by engaging in manipulative, violent, and wicked deeds.

Examples include High Priestesses using Fomorrohs to enslave people’s minds (4x06); Cornelius Sigan using his power to change day into night and acquire vast wealth (2x01); sorcerers using special blades to murder people (3x04), and so on.

None of this takes away from Annis’ complexity, nor does it undermine her immense humility when she accepts defeat and withdraws from Camelot. After all, much of Annis' rage and desire for vengeance stems from intense grief over Caerleon's death, so we can assume her marriage was a happy one.

Forgiving the man who destroyed her domestic happiness (as well as leaving her people without a king) shows tremendous nobility on Annis’ part. I think Arthur sees that, for he is always humble and respectful before her.

4- LONG LIVE THE KING

Few people respect Arthur more than Merlin. So when he doesn’t join in with cries of “Long live the king!”, you know something is wrong.

5- CONTROL YOUR FEAR

Episode 4x03 has a hilarious scene where a drunk Arthur claims he isn’t even a little bit scared, because, “I’m a warrior. You learn to control your fear.” Then Arthur walks smack bang into a pillar. Never fails to make me laugh. Minus the drunkenness, Arthur was telling the truth about controlling his fear.

You can see this at least twice in this episode: first, when he sees how many men Annis has brought against Camelot, and secondly, when he sees the size of Annis’ giant. In both cases, Arthur harnesses his fear into determination, which is another sign of a great warrior.

Next up, we have a fascinating scene where Arthur watches his men joking by the fire. It's a great way of showing Arthur’s care for these men, as well as his guilt that impending war will end their lives. In a sense, Arthur has to control his fear yet again.

6- TRUST IN MERLIN

After the above scene, Gwaine asks Merlin if Arthur is all right, and the fact that Merlin can describe Arthur's feelings without even questioning the King once again shows the unique nature of their friendship. Merlin sees Arthur's expression, and he just knows. And Gwaine knows that, hence why he does not question the King himself.

Listen to the silence after Merlin's response. Nobody questions Merlin's judgement: they just reflect. Given the way Arthur has repeatedly dismissed Merlin's advance in favour of his uncle, I think he could have learned something from his own knights.

I wonder whether the knights would ask Merlin something about Arthur in this way, whenever the king was absent. In ancient kingdoms, kings had advisers, and in order to earn the monarch's favour, you spoke to the latter first. Did Merlin ever play that role for the knights?

7- MERLIN’S IDIOCY

Now, I have a problem with Merlin telling Arthur that 1)- he would have taken any other option but to face war with Annis, and 2)- his decision to kill Caerleon “was made in the best interests of Camelot.”

Sorry, but it wasn’t. Merlin knows that. I understand that he has to rally Arthur’s spirits so that they can win against Annis, but I am glad that Arthur knows full well he has done wrong. Both Merlin and many fans do not give Arthur enough credit for recognising his own errors.

However, even these foolishly optimistic statements pale in comparison to Merlin's reckless and self-righteous interference when Arthur negotiates with Queen Annis. I burst out laughing when he trips and falls headlong into the tent, a metaphor for his impetuousness.

Merlin eavesdrops outside Annis’ tent, gets caught (so he didn't conceal himself), and then has the audacity to say, “Sorry about this!” to Arthur! Not only that, he got angry over being called a “simple-minded fool”, when he couldn’t even walk in a straight line to follow the king, got himself caught and almost killed by enemy soldiers, and made Arthur look as though he were double-crossing Annis!

I completely agree with Arthur’s anger: “Oh, I was being kind, believe me: you almost got me killed in there!” Correct. Merlin simply could not trust that Arthur knew what he was doing, and decided to interfere. Instead of apologising for getting Arthur into trouble, Merlin remains on the defensive, claiming without evidence that Arthur was “doing a pretty good job of that yourself!”

This is untrue. Arthur surrendered himself to Annis’ men. The most injury he received was a slap. He asked a favour. That isn’t risking your life. In fact, Arthur was trying to save lives, and if Merlin had been listening properly (or just stayed in bed), he would have seen that. Only after Merlin’s sudden entrance did Arthur face serious danger from Annis.

Now, Merlin’s explanation for this is, “I’m your friend! I was looking out for you.” I don’t doubt it. But once again, Arthur is right: “I appreciate that in your very confused way, you’re only trying to help, but please: don’t do it again.”

Condescending? Of course. But this time it was Merlin who provoked him into this anger.

8- MORGANA

Despite all her power, Morgana still has to defer to non-magical kings and queens. After all, she requires their military assistance to take over Camelot.

You can also see how Queen Annis detects Morgana’s hatred, greed, self-righteousness, hypocrisy, and bloodlust. In one glance, Queen Annis begins questioning the wisdom of working with a sorceress she does not trust, not least on account of Morgana being a sorceress.

In fact, Arthur’s prowess as a warrior impresses her more: “You have as much to lose as I if Arthur wins…” Fascinating scene.

9- THANK YOU, OLD FRIEND

It’s ironic that arguably the best scene in 4x05 begins by showcasing Arthur’s cynicism. No guesses why Arthur did not tell Merlin about breaking off his relationship with Gwen earlier. That speaks volumes. If he had told Merlin, I think they would have had an argument similar to that of 4x11.

Only when Arthur realises that he may die does he ask Merlin to pass his ring onto Gwen with an apology. You can see the guilt etched onto his face as he refuses to make eye contact. Interestingly, Merlin does not ask any further questions.

Arthur’s entrusting Merlin to look after Gwen in the event of his death says a lot. For example, that ring is technically royal property, yet Arthur gives it to a servant for safe-keeping, rather than his next-of-kin, Agravaine. Despite claiming to need his uncle’s advice, Arthur will not trust Agravaine with such duties. Has Arthur made a medieval will or testament? Obviously, I have no idea, however, this episode already shows Arthur’s reliance on Merlin to deal with family matters.

Another interesting aspect to this scene is Merlin’s silence after Arthur makes an indisputable point. This dispels any idea that Merlin’s advice was always correct. On several occasions, Merlin had to defer to Arthur’s judgement, because he saw the truth and wisdom behind it. “I don’t know what will happen. But for the first time since I became king, I know in my heart I’ve made the right decision.”

Got to love Arthur’s half-amused, “You’re not about to start crying on me, are you?” He expects Merlin to be either in good spirits or confident, because that is how he, too, remains confident. Arthur is an optimist, yet Merlin becomes a pessimist, so the king must pull Merlin together with light and yet serious teasing.

Needless to say, Arthur calling Merlin “old friend” implies that they have been friends for a long time. So why do some fans still think that Arthur had trouble admitting that Merlin was his friend? Also, the word “old” in this context can imply reliability, constancy. Arthur chose that word to describe Merlin’s value, as well as the length of their friendship.

The great thing about Arthur is that while he makes some serious errors, when he does repent, he does so well. Not only does Arthur graciously thank Merlin for his concern, but he makes it clear to Agravaine that he relies on Merlin’s judgement prior to entering battle. This supports my earlier statement that Merlin is Arthur’s best fighter, as well as right-hand man; Arthur does not leave for the fight until Merlin has confirmed his readiness.

On top of this, Arthur later admits that he might be a cabbage head. “I should have listened to you, Merlin. Just this once, I think you were right-- even if you are the worst servant in the five kingdoms!”

By implication, Agravaine is wrong. Arthur won’t say that, of course, but we saw Merlin’s sound advice competing with Agravaine’s lies for this entire episode. We can only conclude that regardless of what he says, Arthur trusts Merlin more than members of his own family.

And this is a theme which will continue and grow for the remainder of Season 4.

FURTHER POINTS:

Merlin’s fighting skills

Paradoxes of Arthur and Merlin’s friendship

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infinitelytheheartexpands · 3 years

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My Personal Opinions on Some French Grand Opéras

Here we go. I’ll be focusing solely on pieces in what’s widely considered the “Golden Age” of grand opéra (from 1828 to about 1870).

1828, Auber: La muette de Portici: never seen or heard so I cannot comment, but I do think it slaps that it helped start both the Belgian Revolution and the genre of grand opéra.

1829, Rossini: Guillaume Tell: I love this one. it’s one of the few grand opéras that has a happy ending and it’s fully deserved. it’s long but it all has a point-- the first act introduces us to the community spirit that drives the rest of the action; even though it’s called Guillaume Tell, it’s not just about Guillaume Tell. it’s about a whole movement coming together, with all these vividly-drawn people of different social statuses, ages, heritages, and livelihoods coming together to do good in the world in the face of oppression. also it’s Rossini so it bops start to finish. the finale is one of opera’s best. I could not have higher praise and admiration for this piece.

1831, Meyerbeer: Robert le diable: another rare case of a grand opéra with a happy ending, but it feels a bit more contrived, something I wrote about when I watched it about a year ago for the first time. it’s quite a clever ending, however, and I love that these lovely characters get a happy ending. Robert is the least interesting principal character both musically and dramatically; the musical highlights of the show are mostly Bertram and Isabelle’s big scenes. the former is also arguably grand opéra’s most exciting ballet sequence, the Act III ballet of the nuns (or as I like to call it, the Zombie Nun Ballet). it’s long but it is incredibly worth it. overall, I really do enjoy this opera although it is very much an uneven piece.

1833, Auber: Gustave III, ou le bal masqué: here’s a thing I wrote about it like 3 months ago and I stand by every word.

1835, Halévy: La juive: It’s damn near impossible to find an even remotely close to complete recording. However, what the recordings have is excellent. The score is marvelous all the way through, although for the most part I tend to prefer the ensembles to the arias (the exception, of course, being Éléazar’s 11 o’clock number). Speaking of Éléazar, he’s an extremely complicated and frankly uncomfortable character, toeing the line between being one of opera’s most complex characters, an even more complicated proto-gender-swapped-Azucena if you will, and being an unfortunate vessel of antisemitic stereotypes. This is made even more complicated because Halévy was an assimilated Jewish composer. On the whole, Rachel is the only wholly sympathetic character in the piece, although all five of the principals are lovingly scored.

1836, Meyerbeer: Les Huguenots: *holds things in because otherwise I would write an entire essay about this opera and you all know that because I have done that several times* Both a great strength and a great weakness of this piece is its sheer wide-ranging-ness, particularly in terms of mood. Unlike, say, La juive, this opera does not have one overall mood, instead steadily progressing from bright, brilliant comedy to one of the most horrifying endings in opera. Dramatically, this is great for the most part, although the sheer amount of exposition in the first two acts may take getting used to. Just as the drama gets more intense and concentrated as the opera goes on, the music gets more intense- and frankly, more often than not better- as the opera goes on. The window/misunderstood engagement business is something I still struggle to see the exact dramatic purpose of, because I think the question of religious difference would likely be enough to separate Raoul and Valentine at the beginning anyway; to me, it feels like Scribe and Deschamps were struggling to find a way to integrate Nevers into the story, as he is crucial to the opera’s lessons about love and tolerance, so they stuck in a quasi-love-triangle in order to justify his presence earlier on. (Also, for goodness sake, could you at least have given him an onstage death scene?) Anyway, in this way the story can be a bit unwieldy and uneven at first, but stay the course with this one...and even a lot of the first couple of acts are wonderful. The characters are all wonderfully written if rather episodic in many cases, but this opera is ambitious and by the end, it’ll tear your heart to shreds. It’s amazing. Uneven, yes, but amazing nonetheless, and I will defend it to the death.

1840, Donizetti: La favorite: I’m not as familiar with La favorite as with some of the others on this list (I’ve seen two different productions once each and I have a recording of it saved to my Spotify library that I listen to bits and pieces of very occasionally) but I do think it’s an excellent piece overall. LÉONOR DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER. The music is lovely all around; I know Donizetti wrote at least one other grand opéra in full and part of another, both of which I need to check out because in its own way, Donizetti’s style works wonderfully with grand opéra.

1841: Halévy, La reine de Chypre: here is a post I wrote about La reine de Chypre. basically all my thoughts remain the same except I have to add: Halévy as a whole just needs more love. there’s a few other of his operas I have waiting (a recording of Le dilettante d’Avignon that has been sitting in my Spotify for who knows how long and a film of Clari with Bartoli and Osborn I’m also sitting on) but there are so many pieces that sound fascinating but have basically ZILCH in terms of recordings.

1849, Meyerbeer: Le prophète: before I say anything else about this opera, I need to ask a burning question: WHY THE HELL IS THERE ONLY ONE GOOD VIDEO RECORDING OF THIS OPERA?!?! on the one hand, I adore the Osborn/Aldrich/Fomina production; on the other, I would also like other productions, please. anyway, I said one time in the opera Discord that while Les Huguenots will probably always be my favorite Meyerbeer opera for an array of reasons, this one is definitely Meyerbeer, Scribe, and Deschamps’ strongest work. it is both unusually dark and unusually believable for an opera of its time—and the fact that it still holds up so well is disturbing to say the least. this opera thrives on complexity in all forms and yet has probably (and paradoxically) the simplest plot to follow of the four Meyerbeer grand opéras. the score is brilliant start to finish, mixing the best of bel canto, Romanticism, and something altogether darker, stranger, and more original. definitely one of the most underrated operas ever. the aforementioned production is on YouTube with French subtitles; give it a watch here.

1855, Verdi: Les vêpres siciliennes: Vêpres is an opera I love dearly although I have yet to find a production that is completely satisfying. I think it’s because this opera is a lot deeper, a lot more complex, and a lot more troubling, frankly, than people are willing to go. also it should be performed bilingually and I am dead-set on this: the dissonance of an opera about French capture of Italian land being sung entirely in either French or Italian is always a little off at least (and also part of the reason why my brain probably adjusted to hearing this opera in either language better than, say, Don Carlos). but anyway, neither side comes off particularly well here, particularly due to the violence and sexual assault on both sides of the equation: both Montfort and Procida are heavily in the wrong, and while Verdi sympathizes with both for personal reasons (Verdian Dad in the former case, Italian Liberator in the latter), there is a lot of troubling stuff in here. nevertheless, the music bops, the story is intriguing, and I think we can all agree that Henri and Hélène both deserved better, especially considering how close they got to bliss (although I think we can also all agree that the end of Act IV twist to almost-rom-com is pretty abrupt).

1863 (full opera: 1890), Berlioz: Les Troyens: I wrote this review of Troyens after watching it in the Châtelet 2003 production in December 2019 (first time ever watching it) and I still stand by just about every word. Such a fascinating opera, great adaptation of the first few books of the Aeneid, marvelous score (of course, it’s Berlioz!)...but could there be a ballet or two fewer, Berlioz? Or at least shorten them up? And that’s coming from someone who likes ballet. But anyway, in every other respect it’s absolutely marvelous. Some people say it’s the greatest French opera ever, and while I hesitate to say that, it comes pretty damn near close.

1865, Meyerbeer: L’Africaine (Vasco de Gama): Vasco da Gama/L’Africaine is even more troubling—much more troubling—of an opera than Vêpres to me and I wrote a whole thing here as to why. I still stand by most of it, although upon reflection, I feel like the ending that drove me so crazy has virtually the exact same idea behind it as the end of Troyens/Book IV of the Aeneid: empire has consequences and those consequences hurt real people, who, though different and not among those perceived as “heroic”, are worthy of being treated as human, not being collateral damage. (I’ve written at least two essays about this for different classes, both specifically in regards to the Aeneid.) It may be time to revisit this one. The score is lovely, after all, although it didn’t stand out to me as much as others by Meyerbeer.

1867, Verdi: Don Carlos: *holds myself back from writing a 10-page essay* y’all, there is a reason that when someone asks me what my favorite opera is, I always choose this one even though I’m horrible at favorites questions. it’s Verdi, grand opéra, romantic drama (SO MUCH romantic drama and SO MUCH gay), political drama, religious/social struggle, personal struggle, social commentary, spectacle, intimacy, masterful characterization all in one. what more could you want? I first saw/heard this opera in Italian long before I did in French, so my brain is more hardwired to hearing the Italian but both are good. my motto is “Italian or French, I don’t care, but Fontainebleau has to be there.” fuck the four-act version. I mean, I will watch four-act versions but five-act versions are just superior. I’d prefer uncut performances (the first part of the garden, the Lacrimosa, the extended opening and ending), but these aren’t dealbreakers for me. it’s the perfect synthesis of Verdi and grand opéra, much less unwieldy than Vêpres (as much I love that one), both musically and dramatically.

1868, Thomas: Hamlet: Part of me wishes this was more faithful to the actual source play (why??? the??? fuck??? does??? Hamlet??? live??? although there are alternate endings), but part of me also realizes that the play is already four hours long as is and singing it plus ballet would make it WAY too fucking long. This does a pretty respectable job. The music is gorgeous, by turns almost sugary-sweet and thrillingly ominous. The Murder of Gonzago scene is an absolute masterpiece. The Mad Scene is justifiably one of opera’s best (although I’m not sure it was a good idea to have that and a frequently-cut 20-minute ballet with no relation whatsoever to the main plot to make up all of Act IV). There are a lot of bops in this one. The four principals are closely followed and still very well-drawn. Both of the stagings I have seen were excellent. An underrated opera.

1869 (grand opéra version), Gounod: Faust: Another of my absolute favorite operas. Since this existed for a decade before its transformation into the grand opéra we all know and love, I won’t comment much about its actual format and adherence to grand opéra tropes aside from saying the Walpurgisnacht ballet is one of grand opéra’s best and extremely good at giving off Vibes TM. I used to hate how the character of Faust was written and thought he was incredibly boring. Not anymore (although of course, I still hate him as a person. fuck him tbh). This opera has a reputation for being saccharine and old-fashioned and I think that’s a bunch of garbage right there. It’s about the search for eternal youth and the expectations of conforming to social values and people’s struggles with themselves when a) they “fall short” and b) when the world ostracizes them for being “different” and “out of line”. I am also firmly convinced that Marguerite is the real protagonist of Faust (like how I’m convinced that Valentine is the protagonist of Les Huguenots if there even is a singular protagonist in that opera but I digress). The music slaps. People need to stop cutting whole scenes out of this. I’m still undecided on the order of the church and square scenes of Act IV. Marguerite and Siébel just need everything good in this world.

Anyway, those are my two cents! I tried to keep these pretty short, so if y’all want any follow-ups, let me know!

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popsiclemania · 3 years

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My 2020 in K dramas (+1 J drama)

I began watching k-dramas in 2018 but I’ve never watched as many shows, Korean or otherwise, as I have in this one. 2020 ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. I think what helps me really enjoy this over Bollywood+Malayalam+ American pop culture I grew up with is that a smirk on the wrong character’s face doesn’t make me seethe with rage and want to burn everything down. It’s not like growing up with SRK on screen and then having SRK wannabes leave you with lifelong trauma in reality. I can just move on. It’s removed enough from my everyday life but still familiar in a generic Asian family way. Does that make sense? It’s not perfect and it’s not free of its own harmful stereotypes and narratives, but there’s enough of the good stuff to make you stick around. This year I fell in love with Nana, Kim Hye Soo, Han Yeri, Park Eun bin, Ahn Eun jin, Kim Bum, Kim Yong ji, Flower Boy’s Go Dok Mi and Search:WWW’s Bae Tami. Cancelled Ji Chang wook (bye). Desperately missed Kim Jae Wook. Had thoughts on Hwang In Yeop, which were mostly heart eyes. Discovered J dramas and fell in love with Cherry Magic’s Adachi.

My year-in-review below:

LOVED

Into The Ring - I am so glad I saved this for a rainy day because it’s exactly the kind of upright citizen shenanigans my unemployed ass needed at the end of the year.

Goo Se Ra thinks the govt should work for the people but that doesn’t mean her own moral compass always points north. Her purpose is to make steady money, and I love seeing her go hard to survive and cobble together what she needs. The thing that really works for me is that she wants to be good, but she isn’t always. And you get to see her be disappointed, upset, embarrassed and hurt from being publicly kicked in the gut as she navigates a job where she appears, on the surface, to be a supremely confident, self-serving, accidental politician. What you see as her naiveté is mostly just her being a regular person in an environment dictated by backhand deals and rich people politics. She gets hit again and again, and you see what it does to her sense of worth to get back up again, how she grapples with her self. And through all this the show is funny?! Se Ra is what writers of manic pixie characters think they are doing and not doing at all. Love her friends, and Jang Hye-jin is *chef’s kiss*!

Hyena - Kim Hye Soo’s Jung Geum Ja is perhaps Se Ra’s older and darker contemporary. Geum Ja is a survivor and will get what she wants and where she wants to, however many hells she has to cross. She’s single-minded about her success, ruthless and has no qualms about bending morals to get the outcome she needs. She’ll never compromise on who she is or justify how she lives, can build people up and also tear them down, but she also knows care and kindness.

I turned to Signal for more Kim Hye Soo but was disappointed in how the first few episodes seemed to shortchange her. May try again in 2021.

(Highly recommend @saltr0se’s fic series which just GETS Geum Ja so well. Fic writers are the best)

Search: WWW (Finished in 2020) - It took me half a year to finish this. I started watching Search in Oct 2019 and raced through the first 6 episodes because I couldn’t take my eyes off the rollercoaster of Bae Tami’s life. And then I had to take a break because it was a little too close to the frenetic pace of my own industry. As @drivingsideways wrote, a lot of Search is premised around ‘patriarchy? who dat?’, which is why watching its politics play out is so fascinating. It’s also deliciously turmoil-y to watch a very clear-sighted, weathered Tami put on rose-tinted glasses for her romance and then frequently peer over them to evaluate whether it could actually meld into her life.

Catch The Ghost - Kim Seonho oozes charm and perhaps Startup was a showcase of how effectively he can be a typical male lead. But Catch is exactly not that. Go Jiseok and Yoo Ryeong have moulded their lives around to meet their most desperate wishes in life and in the process also left parts of themselves untended. There is guilt, pain and need. Now guess who will tend to whose wounds? Their dynamic is electric even when the central mystery flags towards the last few episodes of the show. I really hope Moon Geun Young is doing well and gets more amazing roles soon. She is so good here.

(Highly recommend @melonatures‘s fic for putting that sizzling on-screen chemistry into words. HOW?!) Cherry Magic - Stories about painfully awkward people are my jam and Eiji Akaso gets Adachi’s shy, nervy energy so right. Cherry Magic is straight up just 12 hours of 🥺🥺🥺.

Stranger/Secret Forest - I’ve been devouring the entirety of Agatha Christie’s work this year after Stranger reminded me how comforting murder mysteries can be. I love Bae Doona. I also love characters who don’t get social norms, not always because they are out to flout them but because that’s just not how their mind/brain works. (have to watch S2)

Flower Boy Next Door - Honestly, the opening scene introducing Park Shin Hye’s character Go Deok Mi sold me on this immediately. An introverted, penny pinching copy editor living alone and working from home thanks to extreme social anxiety? Love. All the side characters are a lot of fun and I’ve never loved Kim Seulgi and Go Kyung Pyo more. It’s a warm show, slowly rounding off the sharp edges of every character.

JUST FUN

The Spies Who Loved Me - It’s been a year of disappointing rom-coms and Spies kind of quietly turned it around for me. I want to be the fly on Yoo In Na’s wall as she figures how to play her characters. I’ve only seen her in 3 roles but somehow she always manages to be in character arcs that don’t short change her. Spies could’ve been and sometimes is the regular heterosexual fare, but In Na ups the ante over and over again, coming out on top as the smartest person in the room.

ENJOYED WITH *RESERVATIONS*

I have to watch A Piece Of Your Mind again because I don’t understand how Jung Hae In and Chae Soo bin built SO MUCH warmth and crackling chemistry with barely a kiss. I was iffy about how the whole AI thing started off and the tortured musician plotline (angsty male artists will forever be an eyeroll for me).

Park Min Young is a queen who never disappoints and When The Weather Is Nice is everything you want in a winter romance. My reservation was in how they explore so much of domestic abuse and the complex ways its traumatised the women in this family. I’m ok with the characters having imperfect ways of processing and understanding the violence, I welcome it. I’m not ok with the show dancing around whether the pivotal crime was justified/ self defence (it was).

A lot of dramas did this. I loved Han Yeri and Choo Ja Hyun in My Unfamiliar Family, I didn’t like the free pass the show gave their dad’s abusive character.

Hwang Jung Eum’s comedy style is generally not my thing but she was pretty great in Mystic Pop-UP Bar. But I’m side-eyeing the sanctity surrounding motherhood. Maybe I should read more about babies and Korean folklore.

Hospital Playlist was my comfort watch through June and July. I think its wholesomeness and non-plot writing came at a good time for me. But I noticed then that the throughline for all main characters was moral superiority and hence what I then saw as *wholesomeness*. It’s kind of what makes it a grating rewatch in parts. Plus the real life of misogyny of Yoo Yeon Seok makes me want to push his angelic catholic character off a cliff. (For context, i was raised catholic). I want to continue loving Chae Song Hwa, and for that the showrunners need to stop cornering her with overbearing romantic interests (let that woman breathe! she literally ran away to another city!)

Hospital is good at creating moments of comfort, so much so that I went to watch Reply 1988 after it, but had to drop it coz I couldn’t get into it. Maybe I’ll come back to it next year.

Once Again is what I call joint family propaganda. What it does well is lay bare the mechanics of living in a society that prizes the heterosexual family structure, the loops you have to jump through to hide when you break its rules and what happens when you are found out. I love the characters, their fights, their frustrations. I just don’t love the validation of joint families. (context: i grew up in an oppressive joint family lol). In my au, Nahee and Gyujin don’t get married again or immediately have children, but take the long route to figuring out how to love the person the other is. Gahee is openly dating Hyo shin and her parents have to figure out how to process her success and her romance. Young dal and Ok boon have to learn to stop dictating their children’s lives. Joon sun runs his company from home, so his wife Hyun kyung can work on what she wants. Choyeon, Joori and Ga-yeon go back to being flamboyant AF and the market learns to not judge. Gyujin and Jaesok have to actually work on the relationship with their mother and what sent her into depression. Just a lot of learning involved.

Just Between Lovers was a nice watch, i just don’t get how Kang doo and Ha Moon So’s relationship will survive his constantly simmering anger.

Crash Landing on You was so much fun until the main romance turned angsty, but it gave us North Korean soldier shenanigans and the epic romance of Seo Dan and Alberto Gu that we needed more of.

Tale of The Nine Tailed is probably what Goblin wished it was. I, however, will never be over Lee Rang. (Also, when can gods stop meeting their love interests as babies? Asking for my sanity)

I literally ignored everything in Oh My Ghost except Park Bo Young and Kim Seulgi and it was amazing.

NOPE

Goblin, Dinner Mate, Oh My Baby and My Secret Romance were a whole lot of NO, NAHI, ILLAAA.

I loved hate-watching The King:Eternal Monarch with the rest of k drama tumblr but someone please take away Kim Eun-sook’s access to gigantic budgets and all-star casts.

It was painful to watch Do You Like Brahms squander away its potential but I’m glad to be introduced to Park Eun bin. Age of Youth is next on watchlist.

More than Friends to me is only Ahn Eun jin. Someone give her amazing lead roles asap.

Why did Record of Youth do that to Park So Dam and her clothes? Just why

WANTED TO WATCH, BUT COULDN’T BECAUSE *INTENSE*

World Of The Married, It’s Okay Not To Be Okay, Sweet Home, Extracurricular, Penthouse, Flower of Evil, Lie After Lie

WILL WATCH NEXT YEAR

SF8, Stove League, Birth Care Centre but I’ll start the new year with School Nurse Files coz it looks very good.

#long post #kdramas #review #2020 #A DECADE #Goo Sera’s and Yoo Ryeong’s are the kinds of stories I wish I’d watched through my late teens/early 20s #Jung Geum Ja and Bae Tami are who I’m taking into my thirties.

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invisibleicewands · 3 years

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[...]"Well, yes I am. I joke about it, but I am really big-headed." About everything? "I like to think that I joyously celebrate my gifts." Which are? "My chief gifts are - naturally good at all sports with a raw talent for pretty much everything, which if nurtured could develop into improper talent. I always say if I'm not good at something it's just because I've not had time to focus on it ... it's just uncrafted, like a slab of rock that contains the statue of David within it." [...]

[...] And with good reason, Morgan says. "Here's the funny thing: I've spent five years with him and I don't know Michael at all. We have a very courteous and respectful relationship. This is why he plays Frost and Blair so brilliantly, because he's inscrutable - and there's a brilliance and inscrutability to all of them."

Morgan says Sheen is the most technically accomplished actor he has seen. "He can be doing a long speech and when he's finished, I'll say to him, 'You know that line three-quarters of the way through the speech? I'd like to replace it,' and he'll say, 'OK no problem' and just do it. He doesn't flicker. It's like a guy juggling 15 knives being told to juggle two more that are aflame. 'Oh, no problem.'"Of course I'm inscrutable, Sheen says, I'm an actor. "My career is pretending to be other people so inevitably there is a covered-up-ness about that in itself. I can't remember who said it, maybe Oscar Wilde - give a man a mask and he reveals his true face. I guess I'm more comfortable revealing myself through saying, 'This isn't me, this is Brian Clough, but actually it is me.' I put the characteristics of somebody else on, but what I'm revealing is actually about myself." [...]

[...] "It's not just something of me. That's all I play - me. The secret to acting is don't act. Be you, with add-ons. Playing Clough I'm playing my own arrogance, that's all I can do. I can't pretend to be big-headed, I just have to find my own big-headedness, conceit, arrogance, whatever it is compensating for his insecurities. He was covering something up. The key for me was the injury when he was younger, when he was stopped doing something he was brilliant at."

Sheen finds Blair most slippery of all, reflected through a perma-smile more enigmatic than Mona Lisa's. Producer Christine Langan, who has worked with Sheen on five BBC films, calls it "the smile as carapace". Although his characters might ultimately be unknowable, she says Sheen's strength is ready access to his emotions. She cites a lesser known film - Dirty Filthy Love, in which he plays a person with Tourette's with visceral intensity. "It's extraordinarily emotional," Langan says. "He seems to cut a layer of skin away." The emotion, she says, is equally evident in Sheen the man. "He doesn't button up his feelings when he's angry about something. But it's often justified."

True enough, Sheen says, he can be a right pain when he's immersed in a role, and he doesn't argue as Michael Sheen, he argues in character. "There's a point where the boundaries have to be blurred." He insists it's a necessary point to get to, but admits it's confusing. "That's why I refuse to go on political programmes. I get invited on a lot because of my connection to Blair, and I always say no."[...]

[...] "I've had a complicated relationship with LA, but I'm coming to like it more. I think part of me has just gone, 'Look: shut up moaning about it, this is where you are.' The only person who suffers by me going on about how much I hate it is me."Did he resent LA because of the split with Beckinsale? " It's a mixture of things. The reason I was in LA was because of my daughter. I hadn't chosen to go and live in LA, so that was part of my difficulty with being there. And how it affected everything else - it affected my partner because if she's going to live with me she has to live there as well." He has been with dancer Lorraine Stewart for five years, and says he's ready for fatherhood part two.Is it true that he punched Jeremy Northam on the set of The Golden Bowl when the actor insulted Beckinsale? He nods, half cocky, half sheepish. "Sadly it is true." Did he hit him hard? "Sadly I did, yeah. It was because I thought he was being disrespectful to someone I loved." Was that punch a one-off ? "I think he may be the only actor I've ever hit." Who did he hit last? "I think it may have been a photographer in Los Angeles. A while ago. It's not a regular thing, it's just when people I really care about are under threat. That's one of the good things about growing up with the threat of latent violence around you, I guess." Port Talbot has previous with combative actors - it was also home to Richard Burton and Anthony Hopkins. [...]

[...] Sheen really is very Welsh, despite his fascination with the English. He loves to talk. About anything. So he segues from the greatest ELO songs ("Mr Blue Sky is an epic of grandeur and greatness") to the people he'd like to play (he'd love to give Ronnie O'Sullivan a go), to his favourite word: discombobulated. Why does he love it so much? "Every time I use that word, my girlfriend goes, 'Oooh I like that word,' and my daughter likes it as well. You could imagine a character on some kids show called Mrs Discombobulation - and in a truly Welsh sense it's trying to get as many syllables into a word as you possibly can." Anything else? "Yeah, it's a good way of describing what life is like most of the time." [...]

#Michael Sheen #Old interview #The Guardian #Brian Clough

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fuckingfinwions · 3 years

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The previous anon here. Thank you so much!

Yeah, some people at Himring would definitely be horrified if they knew and they would think about telling Fingolfin or helping Fingon.

Maedhros has successfully deluded himself into thinking that this is temporary and that he and Fingon will be able to have what they had before. If only Fingon stopped fighting him every second! He feels upset when Fingon’s upset, so he tries to comfort him, even if he’s the one who has upset him. Fingon hates it, but when Maedhros withdraws his affection for a while after Fingon’s attempt at his life, Fingon hates it even more because as much as he didn’t want it, sometimes he closed his eyes and let himself pretend that they are in his or Maedhros’s bedroom and everything’s fine.

Maedhros is constantly justifying his actions in his head, so he does feel betrayed and surprised when Fingon tries to kill him. His punishments are never sexual, or rather they aren’t sexual for Maedhros because he isn’t turned on by Fingon’s pain (some punishments still have sexual character, it’s only that Maedhros isn’t directly raping him and gets no sexual pleasure from it). Maedhros does believe that the punishments are necessary and he absolutely thinks that he’s being just because it could have been so much worse. It was so much worse for Maedhros.

He probably had a moment of self-doubt after the attempt on his life because it was Fingon trying to kill him. It shook him pretty badly and for a couple of days he was like ‘am I the baddie here?’ And then he decided that no, Fingon was being unreasonable, so he had to devise an appropriate punishment. He knew from experience how demoralizing and humiliating violent rape could be, so he chose that. He doesn’t think him having sex with Fingon is rape, but this time he knew it was and he knew he was going to hurt Fingon that way deliberately. He wasn’t sure he could get it up for it, so he made sure he would be able to.

Maedhros sometimes is even inspired by his own imprisonment. He never goes as far as Morgoth, though, so he doesn’t believe it’s the same thing. Fingon has compared him and Morgoth before and it has enraged Maedhros.

Fingon will be too weak to resist Maedhros at first after his punishment, but he will keep on fighting. He will be pretty traumatized and often Maedhros just putting his hands on his throat as a warning will be enough to get him to stop. Sometimes it won’t be enough, so Maedhros will actually do it again. Maybe not with the same severity, but still enough to incapacitate Fingon.

If Fingon is rescued, Fingolfin is going to be guilt-ridden, knowing that his son was within his reach and yet he let him suffer for so long, welcomed his torturer with kindness, not even guessing that he was horribly abusing his son. Fingolfin likes Maedhros very much and treats him almost like a son, so it is going to be a huge shock for him.

Thank you and outofangband for your kind words. I usually don’t post such things on my Ao3, but I did make a whump blog a while ago and abandoned it promptly. Maybe I should return to it.

Oh wow, Maedhros, how do you not get that enslaving your boyfriend means he'll break up with you? (To be fair, he has the same problem in my rape magic slavery au.) I get why Fingon wouldn't want to tell Maedhros to his face though; Fingon initially has one occasionally positive social contact in Maedhros, and that goes down to zero when Maedhros is mad at him.

Maedhros justifying his actions is great. "If I was enjoying hurting Fingon, that would mean I was evil / a sadist. Since I don't enjoy it, the pain must be for his own good."

I bet Fingon knows a little bit of how much worse it could be. He comforted Maedhros after Angband, and presumably talked him down after nightmares. So Fingon is aware that Maedhros knows all sorts of terrible, painful ways to torture an elf, and is choosing not to use them on Fingon. Or at least only use less extreme versions - I wonder if Fingon knows enough to recognize those when they happen?

Maedhros got so close to actually experiencing guilt about his actions for a moment thinking about Fingon's attack. Then decided that everything was Fingond fault after all, and that he needed to make Fingon understand that actions have consequences. Choosing to rape Fingon specifically to demoralize him, not because Maedhros is turned on by violence, is absolutely perfect. He’s very much thinking of Fingon as a project to be managed, more than a lover or partner, isn’t he?

And Fingolfin’s reaction if this ever comes out would be so amazing. Perhaps Fingon breaks out and makes it way to Dorthonion, the closest non-Feanorian settlement of Noldor. Angrod and Aegnor a message saying that Fingon is alive, but refusing to say anything about what happened to him. (Fingon is worried they’ll decide to give him back or keep him themselves, once the idea is out there.) After the teary reunion, Fingon would finally admit it to Fingolfin. Fingolfin would be chocked and horrified, and wonder what torments Fingon was suffering while Fingolfin was playing chess with Maedhros and reminiscing with him about Valinor. (Then the Noldor get a different Second Kinslaying, as Fingolfin demands the execution of Maedhros, who has a fortress full of people who either believe Fingon is lying or believe Maedhros was justified.)

I would just like to egg you on for returning to your whump blog. This is a fascinating idea, and I’d love to see more! (And/or you can reblog a bunch of other people’s whump fic; it’s your blog)

#fucking finwions answers #fingon/maedhros strangulation au #let me know if you want a different name for you au or your asks #also is Fingolfin thought of Maedhros like a son there's also the matter of the succession #I know Turgon is officially still in line for the throne but nobody can find him - or is even sure he's alive #so Fingolfin needs an heir and he might - very delicately - suggest that Maedhros had stepped /back/ not stepped /down/

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filmista · 4 years

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Gilda (1946): An uncoventional femme fatale

-Isn't it wonderful? Nobody has to apologize, because we were both stinkers, weren't we? Isn't it wonderful? -Wonderful.

Gilda could be the ultimate example of a film in which a single scene transcends the entire film, making the viewer forget about everything. Some may not have even seen it yet, but they do know of that iconic striptease.

What is film noir without the relationship between the protagonists? What is left in a film noir when we strip it of this element, of those murky and sickly as well as fascinating relationships?

Make no mistake: the sophistication that characterizes film noir would be meaningless without the protagonists. And in this sense, Gilda has its own characteristics, something of a film noir, but with a development in its characters very different from the genre.

Here, the femme fatale doesn’t need a man to lead "to perdition." Her reason for being isn’t that, far from it. Therefore, Gilda breaks with that film noir rule; here the protagonists drag each other in that whirlpool that only brings misfortunes, which is resolved in a totally different way in this film.

One of the characteristics of film noir is that of the love triangle although, in this case, we could speak of two love triangles, one of them very particular. At the beginning of the film, we see Ballin rescue Farrell from the street, from the underworld of Buenos Aires.

He has saved his life; one feels indebted and the other responsible for the act. Next we see the third component of this triangle, the cane. A cane that hides a a deadly weapon.

Ballin: It is a most faithful and obedient friend: it is silent when I want it to be silent, but talks when I want it to talk.

Farrell: Is that your idea of a friend?

Ballin: That is my idea of a friend.

It’s not trivial to consider that cane as another member of the relationship between the two men; in fact, when Ballin introduces Gilda, Farrell says: "I thought we were three already”, referring to the cane.

That strange triangle is agreed upon and closed with the following words by Ballin: “This I must be sure of, that there is no woman anywhere. Gambling and women do not mix.” Farrell becomes Ballin's right-hand, his best friend and confidant.

And there it is, the second triangle, and this time, the real one. Ballin appears with his new wife, Gilda, Farrell's old love. As they walk up the stairs, guided by Gilda's siren song, Farrell mumbles an "I hope everything is as before", which sounds more like a wish that he knows won’t be fullfiled; his relationship with Ballin isn’t going to be the same as before. He stands at the bedroom door while we see on his face that he recognises the voice, that voice that he has heard sing so many times in the past.

Ballin tells him that "he seems stunned" listening from the doorway. When Farrell reminds him of the "no women" pact, Ballin replies "my wife is not a woman.” And it is then when Ballin asks Gilda the question:

-Ballin: Are you decent? -Gilda: Sure I’m decent.

The tension between Gilda and Farrell is evident. We don't know what happened between them (that could be another movie), but the wound there is palpable; Ballin is no stranger to that, he realises it perfectly. The Casino workers notice too, in fact they joke about it. When Ballin asks Gilda not to call him "Mr. Farrell", but Johnny, she says "Johnny is a very difficult name to remember and very easy to forget."

And here that obsessive triangle unfolds, so obsessive that, despite Ballin's suspicions that Johnny and his wife knew each other from before, he asks him to stay near her, to take care of her. It seems to be a game that Ballin enjoy. That macabre game reaches its height during a dinner in which the three share a table, in which they toast the misfortune of the woman who made Johnny suffer:

Ballin Mundson : Now then, before we were interrupted, I believe we were about to drink a toast. So: disaster to the wench who did wrong by our Johnny. No, Gilda? You won't drink to that?

Gilda : Why not? Disaster to the wench!

When Farrell admits to Ballin that they knew each other from before, he says, "I taught her what she knows." Up to that point we can imagine what Johnny has meant in Gilda's life. Thinking that Ballin is dead, Gilda and Johnny get married in a wedding that could predict what comes next: we only see her through a window, through the rain that falls outside.

Johnny begins to punish her by leaving her alone, humiliating her, to such an extent that she has to go see him at the office: “Hello. Do you remember me? I am Gilda, your wife ”. Farrell enjoys humiliating her; He lights her cigarette by placing the lighter at waist height, so she has to "bow" to light the cigarette.

She married Ballin out of revenge on Johnny, and he marries her to humiliate her. So much so, that their new home is dominated by a huge portrait of Ballin. She is a prey to her past. She tries to run away from Johnny, but wherever she tries to go, he torments her.

When everything is over, Gilda surrenders and decides to leave the country; He returns to ask her to leave together, while apologizing for his behavior: “We were both scoundrels. Isn’t it wounderful". That obsessive triangle becomes a couple of neurotics, in which with their strange relationship of emotional dependence., they feed each other until they reach the point of recognising that it’s wonderful that they don’t have to ask for forgiveness or that anyone is guilty of anything, the two have been just as awful.

But Ballin returns from the shadows to claim what is his: his wife.

But prophetically it’s a member of the previous triangle, the knife hidden in the cane, that is going to solve this triangle, and this time forever. Ballin dies at the hand of his best friend,

The tagline for the film announced that "there is no woman like Gilda". There may not be a more iconic female character in film history. She has such strength on screen that perhaps because of that the viewer may not have been able to judge her in depth. She has nothing to do with the rebellious woman we all thought her to, nor is she a man-eater; Gilda is simply different. She is a woman with an apparent happiness, that hides an immense sadness and melancholia.

A woman who complains about "so many people and so much loneliness.” Her need for attention and love is palpable. From the moment she meets Johnny Farrell, The expression on her face changes: the past has returned. When Johnny first goes to the ballroom run by Ballin, he meets a beautiful woman and, when he asks about her they tell him: she is a harpy.

Harpies, fantastic beings with the face of a woman and the body of a bird of prey. In Greek mythology, they were the beings in charge to enforce the punishment of Zeus to Fineo, stealing his food. Later on, various traditions gave them malevolent connotations, carriers of catastrophes.

When Ballin appears to be dead, Farrell finds himself between two harpies reading Ballin's will and instructions.

Gilda can’t be considered the classic film noir femme fatale. She seeks to torment Johnny, but in order to make him jealous, her end goal is not money, as is often the case with the film noir woman; She is in love with him, she marries Ballin for money, yes, but it’s a question that Ballin was not oblivious to when he married her; for him she is a beautiful and hungry little girl.

He feels like a man, he realises himself as such by feeding her. But Gilda's wound is very deep; referring to Farrell, she says: "I was once loyal to a man, and look what happened." Ballin justifies her marriage to him: “She said she was born the day she met me. The three of us have no past, only future. Interesting, right?". Those same words are the ones Johnny used when he met Ballin, who had been born the day he met him.

There are two very important themes in Gilda: hatred, hatred that’s been shaped by Gilda’s pain. She reiterates many times how much she hates Johnny, but it’s a simple excuse; She loves him so much that she has had to turn the feeling into hate as a barrier against pain: “Hate can be a very intense emotion (…). Hate is the only thing that warms me. ”

And Farrell in turn thinks about her: “I hated her so much that I couldn't forget her. I was in the air I breathed.” The reunion with Johnny makes her want to plunge into a self-destructive spiral that, that would destroy everything she knows. Her words to Johnny are very significant: "I hate you so much that I would destroy myself to drag you down with me."

But the love game she plays with Johnny reveals something else: She doesn’t hesitate to be seen with other men to arouse his jealousy, a game into which she falls very easily. At the Carnival, with another identity, with a mask, they dance as it seems they did before. She’s mischievous: “I can help you regain practice. I mean dancing. "

He asks her to throw her hat back. He shoves her away violently while she laughs amused. The love-hate game between them is very powerful. We can’t forget the famous slap that he gives her ... although he doesn’t escape a few himself. The game of erotic power play and violence often present in film noir is very noticeable here.

When he takes Gilda home, she does’t hesitate to stress again and again that they are alone. He can’t avoid the temptation and goes up to the bedroom. She has removed her disguise, she is Gilda again, a Gilda in the shadows. They hesitate whether to approach each other or not: "I hate you so much that I think I'm going to die from it ... darling." Their neurotic behaviour could be summed up in this phrase, in that kiss during which the two explode when they say that they hate each other to death.

Gilda’s death drive leads her to an obsessive superstition, another important theme in this film, in which she leaves her life and actions in the hands of that belief, she sees signs everywhere and subjects her life to that destiny. The night the three of them toast to the misfortune that Johnny suffered (herself), she is afraid to drink the glass, as if consuming the champagne closes a pact with the devil.

But after a moment of doubt, she drinks without hesitation, as if that liquid were a poison and she wanted to die right there. She doesn’t care that she’s toasting to her own misfortunes. She’s so superstitious that when she tells the maid, she asks her not to repeat it. Whilst being in luck at roulette someone says "lucky in the game, unlucky in love", and she stops playing to avoid tempting luck. On her wedding day with Johnny, a lonely, sad and glamorousness wedding, a wedding that we as spectators only see through a window, she says: “The rain has stopped. Maybe it means something. ”

Of course Gilda is not the typical film noir woman. She is a tremendously sad woman, sadness caused by love, and who seeks to flee from herself, from everything inside herself.

A woman afraid of her husband and destiny, fearful of life, in a word. In the end, feeling cornered by everyone, the only thing left for her to do is a farewell worthy of her, an iconic dance: She knows she’s being observed by everyone, especially by Johnny. A song in which she asks to blame someone else, "Put the blame on me."

Don't blame Gilda; she’s already fleeing Buenos Aires. But Johnny asks her to go with her. What was Gilda looking for? To be loved. Nothing more, nothing less. Gilda represents the “whore” who wants to emancipate herself to become a mother. Almost no woman in film noir is a mother, a femme fatale is not a mother, she’s a temporary distraction and obstacle to the hero.

But Gilda wants to escape such a condition, and we could really see her as a loving mother and living together with Johnny. In Gilda the woman could be seen as a symptom of the man, Gilda comes to substitute those other symptoms that these men have (sadistic in the case of Ballin, vengeful in the case of Farrell), and take them out on her.

Film noir always plays with appearances: nothing is what it seems to be. But in Gilda, this premise turns to "but in the end everything was what it seemed to be." That game of appearances, like at the Carnival, ends when the participants remove their mask, this time, in a violent way. Neither is Ballin the good Samaritan who saves lives altruistically, nor is his Casino his main activity, not even his death is true. We are shown his shadow on different occasions, in profile; we never see him fully.

Gilda and Johnny’s life is also a lie, to bear their pain. The Casino is itself a lie, a place that Ballin uses to hide his work, and that he has arranged to be able to see without being seen. His office is upstairs, from where, thanks to a set of lights, blinds and windows, he can see everything, like an omniscient God.

It’s the only way out of the suffocating atmosphere of the game room. Gilda is no stranger to what that game of points of view can provide to her, on two occasions she knows she’s being observed by Johnny, she seeks to be observed by him, but she doesn’t see him watching her, as if he doesn't want to see her face and guess what she’s thinking at the moment. The final moment, Gilda’s iconic dance, seems meticulously prepared for him to observe her, but also for him to see how others look at her. What does Farrell do? He stops her. He can’t stand what’s happening.

Doesn't that moment remind us of this one from Paris, Texas?

Or this one?

Two absolutely different women, but in a sense mirrors of each Gilda is the whore who wants to emancipate herself to become a mother; Jane is the mother who emancipates herself and becomes a whore, once Travis appears, she takes the path back to that role of mother. Could that moment that game of points of view, be the beginning of that emancipation, of that path?

That claustrophobic environment and that game of viewpoints is exemplified in Gilda and Johnny's wedding: We only see her through a window, through a rain curtain, we don't even hear what is being said inside the room. We are spectators. But aren’t we during the entire film?

Gilda’s iconic phrase: If I'd been a ranch, they would have named me "The Bar Nothing.", is now more ironic than ever. No, she is not the free woman we were made to believe; she has an owner, Johnny. The mare is back with the stallion.

@purecinema @idasessions @missdubois @mad-prophet-of-the-airwaves

#fave #took me ages to write #gilda #gilda 1946 #charles vidor #rita hayworth #glenn ford #film noir #40’s cinema #cinema #movies #films #film review #movie review #movie analysis #film analysis #filmista

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theelliottsmiths · 4 years

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Can you liveblog the Mein Teil making of? Thank you!!

How many of these were from the same person? It doesn't matter but it is funny

Okay Mein Teil Making of liveblog

Sidenote I once rated all their performances if that interests you

I will try not to mention Zoran

Till looks good with that face distortion somehow

I was obsessed with the story of Armin Meiwes as a young teen. It's fascinating, and so easy to reason yourself into not thinking he really did anything wrong once you learn it was done with consent and the consent was key (when others before Brandes met up with him to mess around and turned him down he didn't push it because the willingness was super important to the whole point etc). I'm not. That's not me saying I approve.

Have you noticed that pretty much all of the stuff people don't like morally about this video (the slapping and blowjob, primarily) don't properly make it into the video? They aren't in it enough for it to actually have been necessary. The slapping is so choppy that there was no reason to actually hit him at all.

"This song is very homoerotic" and then he gets a woman to do the Lustful Acts with Till? Shameful. Cowardice.

Jonas would be Disgusted

The little ja from Till is very cute though.

Also? Porn AU

Till looks so nervous

Zoran please stop stroking her. We know you were excited and couldn't sleep please keep it to yourself.

I can never decide if I like this denim jacket on Richard. It looks silly especially with the collar doing that but it's just so cute

And he's a sweetheart his lisp is so strong here

I'm not even watching the slapping it's so unnecessary and he's crying a tiny bit and Zoran is being so odd about watching it back

Paul seeing his costume and thinking no this isn't good enough and fixing it is such a Paul thing to do. He wasn't wrong.

I hope he bought her some more of the makeup

Something about Richard being picked up and manhandled like a mannequin in a Primark kills me but also... :)

I think I know why he did wrestling as a teen

Genuinely I am not even going after Zoran for the usual stuff I just on an artistic level do not understand why we needed Tills scenes to be this soggy attempt at sex and violence it's genuinely, through no fault of his or her own, the worst segment in the entire video. It just... Abandons the disconnected dissociative feeling of the rest of it and has him doing whatever gets a certain persons rocks off

They should have stuck with the collar and distortion it was... Very nice

I'm not gonna say it but I do not agree morally

Is that a clove

You know, I've always wondered why Richard didn't smoke cloves. He smokes those American spirit yellow ones now For Health (presumably) but cloves do fit the aesthetic he's going for during working hours

He just watched till get and presumably give a blowjob, lit up a cigarette, and is talking in breathy tones you cannot tell me he wasn't getting off on it

"it was very important we were alone for this blowjob that barely even makes it into the video"

Unlike all the other directors the way he goes about his crush is not very good it's quite bad actually

Paul and Oli both having their scenes based in Japanese dance styles is interesting and I do think that was a good move

That one bit of his hair sticking up fuck how does he never escape looking silly?

Don't care for the spit fountain

Why does he say stop complaining in English when the guy was speaking in German does it just have a better vibe?

It's very cute either way I like Richards flirting concentration faces. You can hear him go hhhhh as he looks at the guy just before they turn to compare. And the camp little hands when they turn back also

Paul does some good faces huh

"I didn't have to change my ways, I just did things the way I normally do them"

As in all of their videos, only a few may look good at once. Today is Richard and Schneiders turn, with Till and Flake also looking Pretty Good.

The way Richard is looking at Zoran is so full of what now registers as distaste

Zoran is right here about it being brave for them to have put themselves out there like that and I will allow him some space to be wanky about art because they're the ones doing it. The fact he/it focuses on Schneider in a way that makes me crave an autobiography from schneider/all of them because clearly there's a Something there beyond him just being very androgynous and therefore suited

What he stole from us by giving Till a female angel he made up for with Richard's whole wrestling thing. Entangled. Homoerotic.

Schneider does an incredibly Till face when he's checking the blouse

I'd love to know how consciously connected to this whole thing growing his hair out was

Maybe Richard... Should do more wrestling

Richard and his double kissed but that footage was not left in the final video. Zoran strikes again.

The ja is so cute Why did Richard and Till both do a similar and very cute Ja in this video?

Schneider this entire video:

He's sure he won't be doing much, just be a bit more woman. Given the way Rammstein tends to portray women... Yeah I mean. Yeah.

I would like the full uncut footage of Schneider and Richards parts for uh it's for a project it's super secret you won't have heard if it but I do need that footage.

What happened fifteen years ago, Richard?

Poor baby :(

Zoran still creeping behind the camera

Thighs

Maybe Zoran and I aren't so different unfortunately

I would have loved to see how schneider and the others reacted upon seeing his part

One of them he was tucked so naturally...

How did they act when they saw him on his back legs akimbo I have got to know

He's so bashful

I'm sure they've seen it before

The eye contact.

He is so tickled

Oli is very much acting as if nothing is wrong, maybe to a greater degree than how he is usually

Olis control over his own body really sells his whole performance it almost makes me not detest the toe thing

Paul is complaining and wishing to Influence again and I understand this impulse well

Was Sweden particularly bad for that?

He suits his hair long and down like that

Flakes eye-smile gave it away but everything he says in this is just my favourite

He makes eye contact with the camera just after the dude says chimeras and oh.

I hope he understands that he is incredibly pretty. That's why he's a ballerina I have to assume

"it's rare to dance with as much commitment as I did" I will drop to one knee and hold out a ring do not try me flake

Zoran is doing that thing directors do where he's trying to justify something he chose for purely horny reasons. Ask Jonas about the tongues I'm sure a lot of artistry is involved

I'm being uncharitable it is an overarching theme and I am the one giving the mud fight that significance

But I mean come on now, the mud fighting.

Till is talking so softly is he okay

Is there any better feeling than hearing them talk about how they're getting on better as a group than ever? I think no.

Schneider is me watching the mud fighting

Richard and Tills little bits of fighting you can catch here and there are especially good and I just. Look. Listen. Look and listen. They should wrestle each other for a video for Let's Go. They fight and wrestle and then...

I love this living song metaphorical soup coming from Paul

Richard so gently pinning flake down...........

As a drummer, I simply refused

Insert the quote and out the original Feeling b drummer being incapable of doing anything if it was good

Oli genuinely seemed more comfortable almost naked and covered in make up which actually makes total sense in general and for him huh

The way Till shakes his hair out like a dog kills me it's second nature to him look at him go

I want them to watch the making ofs for Mein Teil and Keine Lust and react to them because a lot of what they're saying is pretty much what they've been saying over the past couple of years about the new album.

Flake is Helping Richard. Flake in

Okay no see so have you watched the video for All the Things She Said/Ya Soshla s Uma by tatu? Or like that fuckinn that one Tom Holland thing where he's in the rain being slutty or whatever?

This isn't wrestling this is wrestling. And very tender.

They're so much more gentle with their wrestling than I feel most people would assume they'd be? Or I just think that because I have siblings and there is no holding back when you first fight those fools.

Puppies!

That kiss sure was awkward huh

Mein Teil is a very good video and making of if you remove Till's main part and Zoran being unnerving.

#hündchen #Rammstein #liveblog #me rambling #complete liveblog

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