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oneshlut · 3 months

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Hey, I just found your blog through a Varian headcanon and I’m in love! Could I humbly request a platonic Jax x reader where it’s the readers “birthday” (they day they came to the digital circus) and reader gets a bit down? I hope your day/evening/night is well, and remember to brush your teeth!

A/N: daaawww, hurt/comfort, my favorite (besides angst of course).. thanksies for the reminder--and for requesting, yesyes! hope you like what i did with this as much as you liked the var hcs :D (also super refreshing to see more platonic requests,)

OMG SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG LMAO

Turning.. Something (Jax & Reader) [Headcanons]

Rules For Requesting

Characters I Will Write For

Masterlist

Summary: It's your anniversary of arriving at the circus, your "birthday"! Unfortunately, birthdays at the circus serve only colorful cake and existential dread. Jax becomes worried for the first time in his life. (hurt/comfort)

Ah, holiday blues. Commonly associated with Christmas, of course, but also birthdays occasionally. Whether it be the fear of growing older, spending your birthday alone, or even being stuck in a digital reality where you can't remember your birthday so instead you have a one year anniversary as a stand in for a birthday. Whatever the existential crisis may be, they sure do suck! At least you can relate to Pomni now.

Birthdays in the digital world work a little bit differently than in the "real" world. Caine tries to track the time, but inevitably fails. Instead of celebrating your arrival once a year, you celebrate it when Caine feels it's been long enough. So your birthday is about once in a blue moon. However, when that blue moon hits, all the existential dread you left about 4 months ago all comes back to you. And suddenly the friends you've made.. didn't really matter. Not in the grand scheme of things. And, not to you.

That's where the isolating came in.

For the next few days after your "birthday", you didn't come out of your room for even a second. Surprisingly, your room was probably less colorful than the rest of the circus. Still colorful enough to give you a headache, though. You didn't have the motivation to leave either, it would all be the same anyway. You weren't close to abstraction, but you were definitely going to get there if you kept things up.

This thought worried Jax. And Jax never gets worried. At first, he brushed the situation off with comedy. Like he always does. With everything. But then as he's walking around the circus, he notices even less of you.

Jax isn't a bold person, but he definitely could be. This was one of those scenarios, one where he would take things into his own hands. Knocking on your door, he stayed patient for you to answer. Normally, he'd just yell for you to open the door when he wanted to hang out, but this was.. a different occasion.

Okay. Everything's fine. It's just been 22 knocks and they still haven't answered the door. He's sure they're alright. Not.

Eventually, his thoughts that wracked his head overcame him. With droopy ears and a heavy heart, he took out the key to your room, opening it with a slightly obnoxious creak.

If even possible, the sight of you curled up in a ball in the corner of your room had caused his ears to fall even farther from where they were before. Immediately dropping his persona, he fell to the floor on his knees to comfort you. Being probably the most serious he's ever been, he set a hand on your shoulder with caution.

You, on the other hand, felt horrible. First the horrid "birthday" you just had, and now you were just burdening someone else dealing with the same existential crap with your own problems. If only Jax wasn't so damn caring, then.. then. ..Hm.

Seriously? Jax? Caring about you? That sure wasn't on your birthday bingo card. If anything, you would've expected him to just pull a ton of pranks on you and make you feel even worse. Instead he was comforting you. Making you feel better.

Almost immediately, tears started flowing. Jax was saddened by the sight at first, but gave a bittersweet grin when you had launched into his arms for more comfort. Giving you silent sushes, he laid careful strokes on your back, making sure not to do anything more to upset you.

Somehow, you felt that your next birthday might be a bit better with Jax around.

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thecarnivorousmuffinmeta · 10 months

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What would happen if the Cullens were trapped in the town of Silent Hill?

If you're unaware, Silent Hill is a tourist town with a dark secret. It has the power to "call" those with darkness in their hearts or unresolved trauma and trap them in a nightmarish Other World. This Other World is a reflection of a person's mind plastered over the town, populated with monsters derived from a person's fears, vices and personal demons.

The only way to escape the Other World is to go on a journey the town creates for you to confront and come to terms with your past.

I'm just thinking, with all the baggage the Cullens have, Silent Hill would have a field day with them. Especially Bella and Edward.

So, who do you think would escape from Silent Hill? My money's on Carlisle and Rosalie, personally. Renesmee, Esme, Jasper and Alice I'm not so sure about. It could go either way. Bella and Edward though? Yeah, probably not.

Emmett, by far being the most grounded and, for lack of a better term, sanest Cullen probably wouldn't be drawn into the Other World. He's just stuck in a tourist town with a panicking Jacob wondering where the hell everyone is.

Interesting question, I haven't played the games nor seen the movie adaptations but I know there's a Pyramid Head.

But I can work with this premise. Alright, let's bullet point the Cullens. Who escapes from Silent Hill?

Alice

Alice has no memories of Mary Alice Brandon's traumatic past. It doesn't even seem to be repressed so much as a product of electroshock therapy in the 1920's. Alice also has very little angst about the fact that she's missing her memories and most of her problems are due to Edward's nonsense and are more or less easily solved if she works around him and the Volturi.

What I'm getting at is that Alice is never called.

She's also stuck with Emmett in this dumb tourist town wondering why they decided to vacation in Virginia.

Bella

Bella has no idea what the fuck is happening. The thing about Bella is she takes things at such face, literal, value that she would just think this is a town of monsters that has absolutely nothing to do with her. Even when it becomes increasingly obvious this is a metaphor for the choices she made, her own insecurities, and her own fears.

Bella tries to get out and gets increasingly frustrated when no solution presents itself.

She doesn't escape because she doesn't want to confront herself.

Carlisle

Ooh baby, yep, Carlisle's going. Canonically he seems to have unresolved issues with his late father, his witch burning past, the fact that he gave into loneliness and turned the others into vampires (especially when he learns that not all desired to become one and may rather have died) not to mention the whole Twilight saga which destroys his friendship with Aro and gives him increasing existential dread.

I imagine Carlisle has a horrible time in a town full of everything on fire.

However, as you note, I imagine he gets out. Carlisle in canon (for all we don't see much of him) does seem to have done a good job coming to terms with his own history and who he is. He confronts difficult things such as whether or not he should have turned the others and does vocally wonder about them to Bella. He notes that he went through great introspection over whether being a vampire made him evil and Edward notes he has great distress over what he did as a human to people who turned out to be innocent after all.

Carlisle would realize what this place is and that he has to go on this journey to confront the worst part of himself.

(True to hilarious Twilight fashion, I imagine he'd get out of this personal journey hellscape and find himself with his oblivious family who have no idea anything happened to him at all.)

Edward

Oh yes, Edward was made for this place. The thing is I think Edward would catch on very fast to what this is, that this is a place of his own personal demons (ah, hello Pyramid Head) but he wouldn't want to admit it or confront it. He would rail against it, he knows what he is and he knows he wants to do anything but confront or accept it. He saw the demon already when he nearly ate Bella in Biology, he has no desire to do so again.

I imagine as he continues to resist more terrible things happen (I am sure a copy of Bella gets eaten somewhere in here) and Edward chooses to embrace madness or the illusion rather than get through and let the monster consume him (as that's what he'd fear the answer is).

Edward doesn't get out.

Emmett

Yup, never goes.

He has no idea what's happening and where everyone went. He figures they'll show up eventually (hoping the Volturi didn't get them or something.)

Esme

Esme... you know, I think she might. Esme would find herself in a very lonely and unpleasant place, it'd take her a while, but I imagine she'd eventually realize this all has to do with her and that she never truly confronted the past or herself. She gave up on life and then immediately was handed everything she'd ever wanted and so had never had to face that.

Esme leaves and has to become a person again.

Jasper

"Ah, hello darkness, my old friend" Jasper immediately recognizes what this is and what's happening to him. Doesn't matter that it's a surreal nightmarefest, all of it's just somehow so very familiar.

I give Jasper a 50/50 chance. The thing is, Alice threw him a lifeline before and he's still clinging to it with all his might. He was never really saved from who and what he was, he just hopes desperately that Alice and the Cullens will keep him afloat.

This journey would have to show him that that isn't enough and he would have to realize as much and realize that Alice can't save him if he doesn't do his own part as well.

(Which of course, would be terrifying to him, because if Alice can't save him then Jasper sure as hell can't save himself).

Renesmee

What you get is essentially a surreal version of Bleach on the Brain by @therealvinelle.

Renesmee at first is very confused and terrified by all of this. She's separated from her family, this place is filled with strange monsters reminiscent of the Volturi, but slowly Renesmee realizes that these are her fears and insecurities, that she doesn't love Jacob and is terrified of him, and her family are strangers to her and she's not sure any of them love her.

I like to believe Renesmee would get out but it would mean letting go of the illusion of her family, the belief that she must matter to them, and learning to confront the possibility that none of them might care at all.

Rosalie

Yup, she's going there, and like Jasper she immediately realizes what this is for all she's horrified by it. I imagine Rosalie's in a state of panicked terror as she was supposed to be done with this: she'd gotten her revenge, murdered all of them, had put it out of her mind as fast as she could.

Rosalie would really struggle but I imagine eventually pull through. She'd have to recognize that Emmett can't fix everything, that there were some things she never let go, that she's still searching for affection and love she's not sure she'll ever receive (from Edward as well as Alice).

However, Rosalie's a very strong person emotionally who did face something like this once before and pulled through. She wants to get better, to be a better person, so I think she'd make it through.

TL;DR

Edward and Bella are the only one's I'd say definite no towards.

#twilight #twilight meta #twilight headcanon #twilight renaissance #the cullens #bella swan #alice cullen #edward cullen #carlisle cullen #emmett cullen #esme cullen #rosalie hale #jasper whitlock #renesmee cullen #meta #headcanon #opinion

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inconspicious-random-thoughts · 25 days

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You know what I think would be interesting about Charlie and Alastor's dynamic? It would be in how they influence each other going forward. Alastor is slowly pushing Charlie to becoming a more assertive and inspirational princess as part of his plans to "pull all of the strings" and get out of his deal. Under his tutelage, Charlie will become much more willing to use her abilities in defense of the Hotel and her loved ones, potentially developing something of a ruthless streak as the threats to the Hotel continue to pile up. I also imagine she will start using his philosophy about using smiles to project power and confidence to hide her personal pain and growing trauma (which knowing this show will no doubt be a lot) to the point of becoming self-destructive and somewhat isolated from her inner circle, potentially even Vaggie to avoid weighing them down with her burdens (which would be ironic since it would be similar to how Vaggie hid her past as an Exorcist out of guilt and fear of her girlfriends rejection). Taking a level in badass in exchange for a drawn-out mental break down.

As for Charlie's influence on Alastor, Charlie's compassion is already rubbing off on him enough for the Overlord to risk his life fighting Adam and the Exorcists for them, something that he found so out of character that he had a villainous breakdown over this realization. While resistant to this growth of character at first in the name of preserving his dreaded reputation, Alastor will slowly becoming less withdrawn and more willing to engage with the crew even when doing so doesn't help his goals, even becoming less antagonistic towards Husk and Lucifer who in turn will actually enjoy his company to a degree. He will remain a ruthless bastard committed to his personal goals, and likely won't be redeeming himself anytime soon, but he'll still become a member of the family all the same. Whether this will resolve his existential crisis or drive him even more mad I can't say right now.

Good to hear from you again,

I been meaning to respond quicker but apparently I'm not allowed to sit and think for more then three minutes at a time. :( So my thoughts/ respond may seem disjointed as I was writing small bit at a time.

To be honestly, I haven't really consider Alastor influence on Charlie beside the standard of nudging her in the direction towards his own agenda. You are correct, now that it's pointed to me. He would have a great influence on her beyond the manipulation. TBH his manipulation might not as nefarious as we think (I still think it because of his contractor) but it can be just that he made to guide her to reach her full potential and power. Which would still align with his own goals with breaking his deal of his soul.

We already see Charlie being influence and episode 7 after they made their deal and Alastor told her about the power of a smile. She took that advice. When Vaggie was made aware of the deal, and Alastor suggestion of meeting his friend to gain numbers she agreed with "What was that about smiling?"

Charlie will become much more willing to use her abilities in defense of the Hotel and her loved ones, potentially developing something of a ruthless streak as the threats to the Hotel continue to pile up.

I wonder why she so hesitate to use her powers in the first place. Like, would she even need Alastor if she simply just use it to begin with? To fix her own hotel? There must be a reason for it. Its either, she cant control it as she doesnt practice it, or it effects her morals/personality, or just the general fear of innocents being caught in the crossfire. It could be all three. But her powers probably tie in more to option two as we only see her demonic powers come out when she upset/annoyed/angry.

Maybe why she so chipper is because as child she more likely threw a tantrum or possible from her teenage ansty emo phase lol...I hope because of her emo phase because emo goth Charlie is entertaining...and hurt so many people from it when her powers manifested in anger and lost control. After that, she swore to herself to always be chipper. So in a way she always used a smile as a mask. But after Alastor, she learn that she can do a lot more with a smile. If this is a backstory that happen, I can see her following Alastor guidance much more easily as she start to see that they may be similar in some ways.

Charlie will definitely become more confident with her powers in season two after the battle. We saw her stop Adam punch. We know she blames herself for everything. Sir Pentious death, Alastor being wounded when it comes to light, Dazzle death, Vaggie taking a bit of a beating from Lute to protect Charlie. She is stronger then all of them, but here they are or harmed as they attempt to protect her. She may take this as a lesson to just just suck up any reservation about using her power to prevent more of her friends from getting hurt when she could have easily stopped it before. I wouldn't say she become ruthless, or at least consciously. Alastor ruthless and wants to be. Charlie "ruthless" is she momentarily lost herself, overwhelmed by the influence of her power.

Charlie seeking Alastor mentorship over guidance from her father would be possibly Alstor has a great sense of self control and discipline then Lucifer. Lucifer would also be too gentle that it be too dismantling. Lucifer training is, swim wings, training wheels, or end up doing things for her to save her the trouble, while Alastor would be blunt and throw Charlie in headfirst to learn. You know Alastor the type that throws a kid in to learn to swim or push someone off a cliff to learn to fly. Everyone in the hotel, when giving advice or bring up issues, tip toes around charlie feelings about thing. Alastor doesn't. Alastor doesn't factor feelings into decisions. He does, calculate how people would react because of feelings, but the issues themselves he does factor them in. Which may be another reason why she would seek his advice.

I also imagine she will start using his philosophy about using smiles to project power and confidence to hide her personal pain and growing trauma (which knowing this show will no doubt be a lot) to the point of becoming self-destructive and somewhat isolated from her inner circle, potentially even Vaggie to avoid weighing them down with her burdens (which would be ironic since it would be similar to how Vaggie hid her past as an Exorcist out of guilt and fear of her girlfriends rejection).

There be definitely be something she'll hide from Vaggie, I just don't know what. Lack of ideas currently, I'll go with keeping Alastor injury a secret or he used their deal for something but has to keep quiet. Or Charlie undergoing demonic power training under Alastor guidance-which Vaggie would hate so much. Vaggie is super suspicious and frustrated by this. Vaggie feels like she failing Charlie somehow, but forcing herself to trust and give Charlie her space while trying to support her while keeping her in the dark.

I am so looking forward to whatever direction the creator will take Alastor. But I am hoping and looking forward of Alastor growing and eventually accepting the soft spot he has for the hotel and its people.

There's something I been thinking about a lot, it was the night before the battle when we witness Alastor and Niffty share a moment.

That was the real Alastor and his thoughts and feelings. His facade was dropped there. Think about it, With Rosie, we saw him relax and generally be happy. But he still had to put up a front, and a mask. He has to act like the overlord that he is. He had to be confident to ensure everything moves forwards as plan. So, as much as he less acting when he around Rosie, he still has halls and acting in some parts. But why would he need to put up a mask there with Niffty? He not going to confine to Niffty of all his plans and agenda, But he also didn't need to put up as much of an appearance in a near private, quiet moment, alone with Niffty, . What he spoke there was 100% honestly. He admitted he enjoying his time there and and like the idea of continuing it.

The other real moment he had was his break down. Grappling with the idea he nearly died. Even as mortals we know we can die any given moment, yet act invincible despite the facts. Now imagine, being immortal soul and a powerful one with near complete control....Dieing seem so improbable yet...here Alastor, freaking out that that near improbable thing nearly became true. Now on top of that, greatly injured and cane broke in two which will have consequences. All because of...he grew to care and want to protect the hotel (outside of a possible forced to by contract)

Alastor will slowly becoming less withdrawn

I think he will be more withdrawn and reclusive...at first anyways. He will want to hide his wound but also distance himself from developing more feelings for the hotel that nearly gave his life for. He be more cruel and ruthless to make up for growing soft, gain distance from the hotel as well make the radio demon feared again, especially if the video gets leaked. He going to be alone. Not willing or wanting anyone in.

The last 10minutes showed the little factions.

The vees.

Charlie and co/hotel including her father

Emily/Sera/Sir Pentious (Tho I think there be tension between Sera and Emily)

Lute and Lilith

Alastor was alone. (break down) But align himself with the hotel but hes not with the hotel. Its like when a group of adventures pick up someone because they are heading in the same direction. They will provide aid to each other but their missions are different. Alastor going to provide aid to the Hotel but he going to be too seclutive to appear that he needs any himself. Nor will he show or admit it unless he absolutely force too.

The thing is, being alone will end poorly for him. Just like how the battle went. The hotel fought together and more or less, made it out. Alastor fought alone with his pride and ego and he lost. lost badly.

So Alastor will be alone until he backed into a corner and just about to lose badly once more but Charlie and co will come to his aid. Quite possibly when he thought he possible burnt that bridge from something or betrayal that happen a little earlier.

That's when he accepts them that's beyond territorial and contract obligations. They saw him at his weaken and vulnerable and not took advantage of it. Despite everything. He'll finally learn to accept them because they already proven time and time again that they accepted and care for him. His walls will slowly start chipping away. Unfortunately he still hiding things so he can't full embrace the idea...but it a start.

He still going to be the Radio demon, generally being a prick and Alastor hiding behind a mask, but we get to witness Alastor slipping it off occasionally.

What would be fun is the idea of Charlie rubbing of Alastor, is that perhaps Alastor against his instincts and to his surprise....showed compassion. It be to Vox of all people. Shocking them both. Vox ending whatever Vees had plan that surely would not bode well for the hotel because of it. That Vox and Alastor end up having a truce and possible rekindle their old friendship.

Tho, I be laughing if Alastor showed compassion for once because Charlie got in his head, only for it to backfire terribly. Then Alastor grumbling that he was a fool to show mercy.

*Alastor limping away after killing the sinner who took advantage of Alastor showing mercy for once while clutching a gaping hole in chest. "It's important to show compassion she said," Alastor scoffs before poorly imitating Charlies voice. "It doesn't hurt to show some kindness!" Alastor laughs mirthlessly and winces from the sharp pain it caused. "Well, tell that to the gaping hole in my chest!!!!"

But in the case, Charlie did need to train her demonic power, I can see how Charlie end up influencing Alastor while he trying to mentor her. Not just the growing fondness hell have for her as his protege. But they probably end up having topics of discussions that arises as she trains. Alastor obviously mocks her point of views, but her words will sink into mind unconsciously. And those words will whisper at him, showing their disapproval at what depravity he trying to act out. Frustrating him that she getting to him

HE may even not go through the acts, not wanting to disappointed Charlie if she was to find out.

Or surprisingly more, maybe after training, Charlie able to control her powers outside of anger. We only see her demonic powers when shes mad. But Alastor witness, Charlie is noticeably stronger when she fighting for something she loves and care for. Which may leave a door open to a path for Alastor to consider to follow.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin hotel headcanon #alastor the radio demon #hazbin thoughts #hazbin theory #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel charlie #charlie morningstar

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nikolaidelphiki · 4 months

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my not-necessarily-romance opinions on all the romanceable palia villagers in no particular order:

Elinar. Bruh I want to get to know you but I suck at fishing. So theoretically we should spend more time together but you just keep calling me fascinating and tipping your hat. I'm not trying to flirt. I NEED legitimate help.

Nai'o. Good manners. Supposedly hard working but we all know you are slackalackin' and just taking your shirt off for the ladies. Do the math, we know who you're showing off for, and it ain't me.

Tish. City girl that came to the country. So sweet. Please come over and decorate my house. I mean that in the most wholesome of ways.

Reth. What can I say? He's at soup. Funny, charming. Can't sleep because he either has a shady job on the side or he killed a man. Maybe both. Also I was really hoping "Reth" was short for something like Rethignald or whatever.

Jel. Living under crushing expectations and secret insomniac. Gotta check our compatibility chart because idk if I mesh well with the youngest sibling of SIX. He's my type tho. And Fashion? Yes. We talk every day about the crushing existential dread for sure.

Jina. She's the first person you meet! I LOVE her! Left her family in the pursuit of knowledge and I respect that. Also as a fellow mushroom fanatic, I could see us chillin' together.

Hassian. Mn. Yeah. So. First of all Rude. Second of all Rude. But all the juicy gossip and lore from his mom and others makes me want to get to know him, and also the fact that he's an archer. I need my bow and arrows ok, nobody else is selling these recipes. Kinda want to punch him in the face tho (affectionate).

Kenyatta. Girl you need help, but that's okay. We all do. Secretly well read if only because there was nothing better to do which I can respect. Let's go egg your house together.

Hodari. Ok. Look. I legally can not romance this man even if I wanted to. That's my dad?? Like so many aspects of his backstory from being a single father to the back pain. Y'all might want that but I'm built different.

Tamala. Have y'all met her? Amazing in theory, but long distance in practice. She don't even get mail from Auni. IDK how we are even supposed to make it work if she can't be bothered to come to town. This is a two-way street lady.

#palia #palia spoilers #i um really love this game #i might do impressions of the non romancable characters next #then compare my opinions later on in the game #its only been like five days

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just-late-roman-republic-things · 6 months

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Hello! I have a humble ask for you if you have a bit of time to indulge me. While I understand from your name that your interest is primarily in the late republic, I was wondering if you had any recommendations for me regarding a slightly later period:

I’ll be taking a class on the Roman Empire and its emperors (+Julius probably) next semester. I’ve got more of a background in Classical Greek history than Roman, so I’m a bit out of my depth. I did a brief survey of some of the early big names in high school (mostly I just remember J Seas, October August, Capri Pants Tibby, Little Booties, Neckbeard Zero, and Ostrich Boy, though I’m sure we covered others), but I was wondering if you had any recommendations for interesting figures in and around the imperial court at really any time during the centuries of Roman Empire to look out for and/or stan in the coming year. I tend to find that being able to latch on to interesting people with lots of personality or story about them makes it easier to study the surrounding events, so I’m hoping for some help from fellow tumblr nerds to get a head start on that. Thank you for reading (and perhaps replying)!

Welcome, dear reader! It sounds like you're in the market for a blorbo...or perhaps a punching bag!

You already know the Julio-Claudian Clusterfuck, so I'll skip them. (I recommend all of them though!) If you enjoyed their family drama, you'll find even more of it in the Severan dynasty. Starting with Rome's first African-born emperor, through his fratricidal sons, to Elagabalus - who might've been what we now call transgender, but it's hard to tell. These folks make the Julio-Claudians look stable.

Or maybe you'd prefer a more relatable guy like Marcus Aurelius. He's one of the few emperors whose inner personality we can really see, thanks to his diary surviving and getting renamed the Meditations. I think many people struggling with depression, anxiety or existential dread might find a lot in common with Marcus' writings. He was a good guy who tried his best, despite never wanting to be emperor and facing horrible luck. His predecessor Antoninus Pius was also a very cool dude, the kind who did good quietly and resolved issues with diplomacy instead of war. They're two of the few emperors I think were actually good people.

If military history's your thing, you can't go wrong with Trajan, Aurelian or Constantine. Trajan conquered Dacia and Mesopotamia, making the empire bigger than ever. Aurelian's superb leadership and character helped to end a 40-year civil war. People seem to either love Constantine or hate him. He was also the first Christian emperor, and played a huge role in shaping Christianity as an institution and orthodox set of beliefs. Whether that was good for Christianity is a question in itself...Constantine's family had tons of drama, too!

If you'd rather pray to Jupiter than Jesus, you'll probably like Julian, Rome's last pagan emperor and a Huge Fucking Nerd. He's a favorite of alternate history buffs for what paganism and Christianity might've turned into if he lived longer. Also, he wrote satirical fanfiction about other emperors for fun!

Vespasian, Titus and Hadrian are interesting if you're into Jewish history. Well, "interesting" in a bad way...You can blame the first two for the destruction of the Second Temple, and Hadrian for the atrocities of the Bar Kokhba revolt. I liked reading Flavius Josephus' account of the first Jewish revolt, which characterizes Vespasian, Titus and Herod (that Herod) quite vividly. It's a very bloody tragedy, and all the trigger warnings apply, but it really brings this time period to life. (Get an edition with a Jewish translator, if possible - older Christian-led translations tend to shove antisemitic junk in there.)

Titus was the emperor when Mt. Vesuvius erupted, so the ruins of Pompeii and Pliny the Elder's wacky Natural History date to Titus' time. Some people really connect with Hadrian's famous gay love affair with Antinous, and he was an incredibly well-traveled man who left monuments like Hadrian's Wall all over the empire...but his genocide in Judea overshadows everything else for me.

But hey, maybe you're fascinated by the awful ones. Or maybe you think some emperors have been misunderstood. There's been a lot of discussion in recent years over whether Tiberius, Nero, Domitian and Commodus were as bad as they're usually portrayed. I'm only really acquainted with Tiberius. In his case, I found not a monster, just a deeply troubled man who'd been put into the worst job possible against his will.

I don't know many imperial women, but I gotta give shout-outs to Livia, Julia the Elder, Agrippina the Elder and Younger, Empress Theodora (wife of Justinian), and Empress Irene (whom Charlemagne wanted to marry!).

Readers, feel free to chime in with your favorite emperors, empresses and court-adjacent Romans! The wilder the stories, the better!

#just roman asks #local-queer-classicist #roman emperors #suetonius is also a lot of fun for reading about the first twelve emperors #even if he's blatantly wrong sometimes. especially when he's wrong #A+ source of imperial gossip #genocide mention #jlrrt essays

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prototypelq · 5 months

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Very curious about this one from the game ask game:

22. A game ending that’s really stuck with you

A mutual after my own heart, are you?)

I'll do a small confession here - I love gaming, I love playing all kinds of things, but I don't do it nearly as much as I know of them. So I might start to sound a bit like a broken record by mentioning some familiar titles

If I had to choose one, I would, predictably, say Outer Wilds. This won't be a surprise for anyone who played the game, and if you, for some reason haven't yet - good, don't look anything up, and please try it out for yourself. If you, for some reason, can't or don't want to play it yourself, I recommend looking up an essay, either one of the dozens on this game (there will honestly never be enough). Personal favourite would be The Song at The End of All Times. I don't want to go into anything further than this in fear of spoiling someone, but I think from the title of the essay you can guess where this is going.

Let's just say space westerns are my jam) Finishing this game was incredible, and I was in a kind of limbo for some time afterwards. I don't think I would be the same person I am today without it, not really. I also watch every single essay on this game that I come across, because you only really get to experience this game once, and then desperately wish to do so again somehow. Watching essays is the closest you can come close to that feeling ever again. The game is a perfect space exploration game - it will make you experience the dread and joy of cosmos like no other, it can be depressing and feel oppressive at times, but the story of the game, while bittersweet, is fundamentally built upon hope. So, while the ending shakes you to the core, it does so with the goal of sharing something intimately beautiful with you.

Another game I can think of that has story which affected me a lot, but which I haven't played myself (not sure I could ever play it really) would be SOMA. This game introduced me fulltime to existential horror, and apparently I am a sucker for it.

The game has a lot of philosophy tied to it, and it had me thinking about it all for literal weeks. The 'horror' name-part might be misleading, as this game and its' story is not about scaring you with monsters or jumpscares (although those exist in the game and that's why I'm never playing it, I would NOT be able to handle that), it's, uh... about literal horror of existence? Anyway, you'll get what it's about if you look up anything about the game, I saw a cutscene ('gamemovie') cut of it and oh boy, the voice acting sells everything perfectly. The writing is insanely good, there's a reason people still keep talking about the game.

Cyberpunk 2077 also kind of steps a little into that territory. While I couldn't play that game because CDPR are bastards, I had a lot of fun looking into the endings of that game as well as the lore of the cyberpunk universe.

Not-really spoilers paragraph ahead

basically by the time the protagonist, V, figures out what to do with the chip with AI-personality of Johnny Silverhand in their head, that has been taking over their body for the entirety of the game, it is too late to really do anything about it, and V is doomed to be overwritten out of his own body. There is an interpretation of different endings for the game as different stages of grief (selling yourself as a guinea pig to try to get experimental treatment - denial, single-handedly storming the corporation that owns the chip - anger, etc.) and I loved that insight, especially because for the player, these are not really as transparent as may seem. The game does a good job of installing into you the idea of dying and the fear of death, and the endings are basically the forked roads which player can take in their limited time to try to deal with it. It's very personal, and I think the writing team at CDPR did an amazing job for this game. The most striking of them all, and one that surprised me the most, was the suicide ending. When V and Johnny finally end up at that 'final fork' where they have to choose a path to their grand finale, they have to consider their options. All of these endings have a price, and none of them guarantee a solution - it's either selling yourself out to a corporation for experimentation, storming a corporation single-handedly or with help, and chances to die in getting to any of these is very high. You can rope in some friends for help you get to the solution, but again, there likely is no way out of this for you, and this puts your friend on a firing line right up with you. So, V can die a slow and torturous death because of the chip, die trying to do the impossible and/or force his friends into it, or. Or the game allows you to end it all, right now, without additional pain for you or any casualties. Hence, the suicide ending. All game credits, regardless of the chosen ending, have companions and friends calling V and leaving him a message. In messages for the Suicide ending it's...all of them crying in anger and hurt and feeling betrayed. One of them calls only to realize 'Shit, I can't do this', starts howling and ends the call. Those voice messages are genuinely heartbreaking to listen to.

That. That is one powerful ending to experience.

...would it be cheating to add DMC5 here? I don't think it will be news to anyone xD This didn't leave me a wreck like the others, but I love how surprisingly wholesome and sweet the story ends in this game about blood, gore and demon hunting. I love the fandom, I arguably love the fandom more than I do the game, but the game is also great, and it deserves a lot of praise for that, sparda loser twins my beloved)

Pyre ending resonated with me a lot as well. Won't go into any detail here, basically the game is a perfect blend of a roleplaying and a visual novel. This means you have a lot of free space to bond with your companions, this game is very much about the path, and not the destination. However, the destination sells the impact of your time spent with each companion.

Unlike most standard rpgs, there is no really 'good' or 'bad' ending for the characters. The path you took will dictate the circumstances of their life in the future, and they will have to just deal with it. There is no weight placed on the player character of 'making their lives better', quite honestly because you really can't. So every ending for them is just, a character being in one place, or the other, and them continuing their life from there. I love this, and the credits song Bound Together, which is Gorgeous as all Darren Korb&Ashley Barrett tracks are, reflects the path you took and time you spent with your companions by changing the lyrics of the song to fit your version of events. One of the videos about the game is called 'How Pyre Sings Your Story' and the game really does exactly that - sings your own personal story. It's beautiful.

Transistor stuck with me too, not just because of the soundtrack, but because it is a very wholesome romance story. Tragic as hell at the beginning (We All Become - as the opening song of the game), but I guess Supergiant's love their bittersweet endings, and credits songs that emotionally devastate me (We All Become morphs into -> Paper Boats).

Terra Nil is another weird game I wanted to add here. I didn't change my life or anything, but it did provide me a unique perspective. The game was marketed as 'reverse city-builder', I would characterize it as a 'climate-change solar-power fantasy'.

Horizon games setting of a post-post-apocalypse (meaning= the future after immediate post-apocalypse= meaning far future after an apocalypse) speaks volumes to me on a level of hope for life in general - that life will always persist, in any way shape or form, it will always continue to surprise and amaze you, it's just the matter of if humanity will live to see it in the future. Terra Nil would be a reverse of that mentality - what it would feel like to have the power to help mother nature recover and let it thrive again. The game has you use green-science-based technology to refertilize soil, clean pollution from water, manipulate the landscape into distinct biomes and introduce different animals into the according environment, the newfound ecosystem stabilize on its own, then your job is to recycle everything you've built to leave this land clear of external devices and leave it to thrive on it's own. This makes the gameplay feel extremely wholesome and hopeful, usually the solarpunk genre is a static image of an unattainable future - a pretty motivating picture, but without any depth to it. Terra Nil shows how our technology and power could be used for good. I think the moment that kind of broke me a little, was when in a later level, I had to dredge up land from the bottom of the ocean to create a continental ecosystem, and this unearthed nuclear pollution which quickly undid a lot of my work on like, half the map. The game then gave me access to sunflower seeds, because they have the actual power to safely suck up nuclear pollution, and save the ecosystem I was trying to build. I had to genuinely pause the game and go get a tea or something in that moment, that was so beautiful I teared up.

This game can actually be quite educational - it makes you really think about the necessity of each part of an ecosystem, that every animal, every plant, every water source - all of them are important for the whole ecosystem. The gameplay teaches you to look at a dumpsite and think up about how can you make a complete and thriving ecosystem out of it. The gameplay requires you thinking up ahead some steps, and that can be a bit challenging at first, but the game is very lenient with the difficulty. Although, if you are trying to introduce all the rarer and more niche animals into the system - prepare for some tries and errors, this will prove a nice tactical challenge.

I also just learned Terra Nil was nominated by several committees for 'Social Impact' award and Yes this game absolutely deserves it. Also the developers have donated quite a sum to the Endangered Wildlife Trust, and it's extremely nice of them.

#tbh i didn't expect to write that much but is that a surprise to anyone #i mean at least I have the excuse of a kind of deep question to write a reply to xD #thank you mutual I had fun digging through my gamelog for this post)#mutuals my beloved #gaming #outer wilds #soma #pyre #cyberpunk 2077 #terra nil #transistor #supergiant games #devolver digital #annapurna interactive #you may be surprised there is no death stranding or witcher 3 or rdr2 but to be honest their stories didn't capture me at all #no rainworld either because the story there makes absolutely no sense to me it is a very fun/frustrating game though #also i kind of realized that while i love my story-focused games my preferred actual Playstyle is just wandering around in these beautiful #virtual worlds #i have sunk more than 120 hours into death stranding before story finale because apparently I Love Delivering Packages! and making the few #apocalypse survivors happy by delivering their requested stuff #even when its super weird but that's more on kojima #and who am i to judge anyone's online orders the less said about them the better xD

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tourettesdog · 2 years

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A list of some of my personal favorite Danny Fenton headcanons in no particular order:

Transmasc

Ace and bi (he figures out he’s ace much faster than bi)

He’s very short, roughly 5′1″-5′2″ (Sam is the tallest of the trio)

The portal accident fucked up Danny’s hormones (partly why he’s so short-- also he doesn’t menstruate anymore which is a small win)

Danny’s ghost form is moderately influenced by his mental image of himself, making him appear somewhat more masculine (slightly broader shoulders, a flatter chest)

He has white pupils in Phantom form, but also white sclera (for the aesthetic)

Eyebags for days

His eyes have a subtle glow to them, even when human

Danny doesn’t feel hungry unless he’s overexerted himself/been injured. He still needs to eat semi-regularly to maintain his human body’s condition, but the ectoplasm in Amity Park keeps him comfy

Has to eat Entirely Too Much food if he leaves Amity Park for any period of time to make up for the energy deficit

Can technically survive without ectoplasm, but his ghost half is healthier/stronger through absorbing or consuming ectoplasm regularly

He drinks (usually filtered) ectoplasm when he needs a pick-me-up

Entirely too much coffee, containing worrying amounts of caffeine

Danny has a very hard time putting on weight and muscle and stays pretty scrawny

Does age, but more slowly

He has lichtenberg figures going up his left arm and at least across part of his chest. The scars are white when human, but green when a ghost.

His left hand is messed up from the portal accident. Nerve issues, chronic pain, unreliable grip strength.

He wears a sweatshirt pretty much everywhere, regardless of the temperature. It hides the scars, dysphoria, and is comfy

Danny has a Lot of scars and keeps getting more. For obvious reasons.

His human blood looks normal enough, but close inspection reveals green flecks-- vise versa for the ectoplasm he bleeds as Phantom. If an injury becomes bad enough, the opposite color starts to seep in

He’s very cold to the touch as Phantom, and somewhat cold as human. Once he gets control of his ice powers, he can willfully adjust his temperature a certain amount at the cost of some energy

No heartbeat as Phantom, very slow heartbeat while human

He doesn’t really need to breathe as Phantom, but does so anyway out of habit and instinct

Breathing as Phantom still has some benefits; mostly in being able to calm him down

Fangs in both forms. Not super big ones, he can hide them if he’s careful, but they’re there.

Danny has a healthy fear of electricity. Lightning storms make him anxious and uncomfortable physically (uncomfy, staticky sensations)

He’s very touch-starved and likes to cuddle with his friends. Doesn’t like being touched by people he’s not close to.

He’s very close with Jazz and confides a lot in her. She’s the first person he comes out as trans to

He loves his parents but is genuinely terrified of them after becoming a halfa and struggles to feel close to them (I also like angst so I err on the side of his parents reacting Badly, and Danny and Jazz slowly at least resenting their parental neglect more and more as they get older)

Danny likes to vibe around with a spectral tail more than legs. Will drape/coil the tail over any surface and sometimes friends (usually in summer, or once he can control his temp better)

Ghost core thrumming/humming/pulsing shenanigans with emotions

His core purrs when he’s very happy

He does have an Obsession and it is to either protect or help (I like both equally)

Danny’s Obsession involves (protecting/taking care of) himself as well, but he’s Bad at that. Good friends help.

He does not pursue a job at NASA. He still loves the stars, but after exploring the Infinite Realms and experiencing so much existential dread, he craves comfort more than the unknown (I am personally terrified of space so that influences this I’m sorry!!!)

He gets Really good at making ice sculptures and sells them. He can control the chill of the ice, making it less of a hazard

If/when he takes up the mantle of Ghost King, he maintains strong ties to the human world

His ghostly wail always sounds like his 14-year-old dying screams and Sam, Tucker, and Jazz are very upset by it

When Danny’s angry or upset, his ice powers easily bleed into his human form, dropping the temperature and creating frost around him if he’s not careful

He can use his core to keep him cool in summer, but it exhausts his energy badly since he’s not meant for hot weather

Danny still feels the cold when human, though he has a much higher tolerance for it. He prefers cold temperatures, but sometimes he likes being warm just for the sake of being warm (especially when he’s anxious or wants to cuddle)

He gets overstimulated easily by sounds and smells (unaided by enhanced ghost senses)

He doesn’t need to sleep as much as a regular human, but still can’t manage to sleep enough (either due to insomnia, nightmares, or rude interruptions)

I have a lot of other contradictory headcanons I like too, but I just wanted to include ones that can coexist in this list

#danny phantom #dp headcanons #danny phantom headcanons #dogposts #its late and I'm having THOUGHTS

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greaterstokesawareness · 3 days

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Stokes Song Spotlight: "A Wizard Every Day"

this second song spotlight is brought to you by the unhinged intensity that Stokes brings to the last verse of this song every single time he performs it ヽ (°◇° )ノ and how insane i feel when he quietly gets to the line "not me.."

"A Wizard Every Day" lyrics by Liz Suggs, music by Nikko Benson

Brian Stokes Mitchell sings this song nearly every time I've seen him perform live and when he intros it, he almost always talks about how it feels like the songwriters didn't know it but they wrote it for him. I just love the notion that even as a performer, a song can feel so right that it's almost meant for you personally. I also love songs by really young people about growing older, like my nerd brain eats those up: Paul Simon wrote "Leaves That Are Green" when he was 23, Jackson Browne wrote "These Days" when he was 16! I'm not saying they always get it right, but it's such an interesting perspective especially so because those artists are touring and performing those same songs into their 70s and 80s. Even though Stokes didn't write this song, he has a real childlike enthusiasm about him and what I can only describe as "nerd energy" in interviews and between songs at his shows that juxtaposes with the more dramatic songs that he's best known for. With Wizard he kind of gets to have that career journey from old-young person to professor emeritus of singing silly songs with your eyes closed. [guys, i love him.]

Now, full disclosure this is a musical theater song that is gonna come at you right out of the gate with all of the goofiness that the genre can sometimes entail. But the feelings get big fast, because the song starts out as something that sounds like a kids song, but quickly makes you feel those big, grown-up existential dread sunday-scaries. And it hits those what-is-being-grown-up-supposed-to-feel-like-levels of introspection that somehow no one ever tells you never actually go away as you get older.

"I'm going to tell you something important. Grown-ups don't look like grown-ups on the inside either. Outside, they're big and thoughtless and they always know what they're doing. Inside, they look just like they always have. Like they did when they were your age. The truth is, there aren't any grown-ups. Not one, in the whole wide world." --Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane

Anyway, guys it's just a really cute song that uses the uninhibited nature of childhood imagination to get at the pretty dark underbelly of how we use the mundanity and routine of adulthood to avoid our very real adult feelings. And I am telling you when Stokes sings it with his big voice and his song-acting™ (complete with comedy-little-kid-voice and mid-song dialogue), you won't believe it, but you are gonna feel some feelings when he gets to the end of the song and sings it with his eyes shut tight and his arms open wide.

Links:

YouTube playlist of Stokes singing the song at various appearances including a few of my own videos from concerts (x)

Links for Liz Suggs (x) (x) and Nikko Benson (x)

#brian stokes mitchell #broadway #musical theater #a wizard every day #greater stokes awareness: song spotlight #greater stokes awareness

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a-god-in-ruins-rises · 2 days

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more musings about religion under the cut...

this was actually another thing that pushed me from christianity as a child. i didn't really understand the concept of heaven for a long time. different christians i knew had different ideas about the after life. i was raised believing we die, become angels, and go live in heaven with god forever happy to worship him.

some christians tell me that we'd have our own homes and live quite ordinary lives but free of sin (aka fun) but we'd be happier than ever.

and that terrified me. just living an ordinary life forever and ever where you do nothing but worship god? it filled me with so much existential dread.

and i think that's why the "all the interesting people are in hell" kind of mindset really appealed to me. and i genuinely felt like i'd prefer hell to heaven. and christians can say "well you didn't understand heaven and hell!" and my answer is okay? too bad. work on your PR then. lmao.

but this is also why paganism appealed to me.

unlike the christian heaven, the pagan afterlife in my imagination was a land of adventure and wonder. there were journeys and different worlds and monsters and gods and spirits. and this is just stuff i gathered from pop culture. but as i matured and took paganism more seriously and began studying the stuff earnestly, it just confirmed my excitement for a pagan afterlife.

obviously all afterlives are a bit different but the gist of it is you journey to your destination (which is one of many). if you're a good person then you go to the good afterlife and if you're bad you go to the bad afterlife and if you're kinda whatever then you go to the kinda whatever afterlife. and as far as we can tell these afterlives are just like our lives: there's hunting, games, drinking and feasting, even sex and fighting, etc. like as long as you're not going to the pits of tartarus or something the afterlife probably isn't that bad. maybe it's not as good/vivid/meaningful as life but it's not some place of either endless torture or endless monotony. and most (indo-european) paganisms at least have some concept of reincarnation. so even if it does eventually become boring or monotonous there's always the hope that you'll be reborn again. i appreciate that. neither the torment nor the bliss is eternal. instead they are reasonable, based on your merit (or demerit) and will eventually come to an end.

but until then? you just get to chill in some awe-inspiring landscapes, overcome obstacles, explore new worlds, talk to spirits and famous heroes and sages, solve riddles, drink and feast, hunt and play games, fuck and fight, sing songs, etc. again, maybe it's not as good as living but it sure as hell sounds a lot more compelling to me than hanging around worshipping god in eternal bliss forever.

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managician · 1 year

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Some more of those OTP Questions for Sontails, because your answers were so fluffy and cute and I loved them XD

"Who asks weird and complicated questions in the middle of the night?"

"Who makes the other laugh more?"

"Who hugs the other from behind?"

"Who's more protective?"

"Who embarresses the other in public with kisses and pet names?"

Taking a break before continuing studying for the night so woo!! I had a second to answer these ^^

“Who asks weird and complicated questions in the middle of the night?”

Tails for sure, bless. He’s the mechanic of the group, meaning he definitely has a lot of complicated thoughts in general, if his usual technobabble speeches are anything to go by.

We’re shown he’s also quite thoughtful and prone to sharing his observations, two traits that can and will lead to him voicing out whatever thought flies through his head while he’s laying on bed.

The questions range from "Wouldn’t it be cool if I tried to make a plane work with only one wing?" to "Do you think there are living creatures that are inherently undeserving of love?", depending on his mood for the night (inventor creativity and the kind of existential dread that only ever hits people at like, 2 in the morning, respectively).

Sonic tends to bounce off Tails’ ideas and give his own views on the question, because he loves talking with Tails. Well, to the best of his ability, that is; if difficult science jazz comes up he’s just gonna have to call it a day lol. And if any clearly negative question comes up, he's gonna answer with a hug instead.

I think Tails would like talking things out with Sonic, because he has pretty clear-cut opinions and a casual attitude to go with almost anything. It makes their late night conversations be really chill, usually :)

“Who makes the other laugh more?”

I honestly would say this one goes both ways!

When I read this question, the first scene that popped into my mind was that one Sonic Colours cutscene that I believe happened after shutting down the last generator. Sonic and Tails were commenting on what they should do once they stopped Eggman’s plans at the park, I think? And Sonic went, “let’s just go to a different park”, to which Tails replied “one that’s less evil than this one”.

That simple exchange sent them both into such goofy chuckling, it was adorable. To me it’s a perfect representation of the way they make each other laugh. They both love teasing each other a bit and playing around with jokes, so usually, if one of them is smiling, the other one will be too.

This also plays into the ‘I’m happy if the person I love is’ trope, which just fits so well for them. Making the other crack out a nice laugh is part of their love language, and they’re both pretty good at it.

“Who hugs the other from behind?”

Sonic, of course! Not only because he loves how fluffy his partner's tails are, but because Tails can't really hug him from behind at all. Them hedgehog quills are really sharp at the tips, I bet xD

It’s much more comfortable for both of them if Sonic is the only one that does hugs from behind, thanks to their anatomy and height difference. Honestly, it’s like they’re built for this position in particular.

Sonic can just casually rest his chin on Tails’ shoulder while he works on his gadgets, and Tails himself can relax while nestled in Sonic’s arms. That way the affectionate gesture isn’t being disruptive or difficult for either of them.

“Who's more protective?”

They both would take a bullet for the other, no questions asked, but Sonic is the one that will always act more outwardly protective of Tails. It's in his nature.

He tends to have pretty intense reactions when he learns Tails got hurt or something happened to him, which feeds into my view.

In Boom cartoon he wants Tails to stop being his sidekick after he gets injured one (1) time, to make sure he won’t get hurt again. In Lost World he's actively pissed off and hating on the antagonists when Tails gets kidnapped. He was going through cyber corruption damnation during Frontiers and still held out for him.

Even in IDW comics, which I’m not particularly fond of, there’s a panel where Sonic tries to fight off Silver’s psychokinesis power just to run to Tails’ side after a battle... He’s clearly the traditionally protective one out of the two in every universe they’re together. And it warms my heart so much.

Part of it comes from the fact Tails is the most important person to Sonic -- of course he needs to keep him safe. The fact Sonic is slightly older than him (I personally see Tails around 12 and Sonic as 15-16) probably makes him feel a bit responsible, too.

“Who embarrasses the other in public with kisses and pet names?”

Sonic! After they start dating, I headcanon that calling Tails bud/buddy/bro/etc. like he used to becomes a sort of jokey pet name, since now they’re outright ‘partners’ and equals in every sense of the word.

Naturally, Sonic still loves using those friendzone nicknames, though, so it’s like a running gag only the two of them get. lmao.

Sonic’s also the one to initiate any kissing most of the time, especially in public. Tails doesn’t mind PDA all that much, now, don’t get me wrong. But he knows Sonic is someone that really needs his space and freedom respected, so he just feels more comfortable when Sonic is the one starting the affection in public, since it means both of them want it at the time.

Sonic obviously appreciates him a lot for being so considerate of their relationship. And he shows it through kissing and holding Tails’ hand whenever he feels like it (spoiler: it happens a lot), usually attempting to catch him off-guard to get him as embarrassed as possible.

Ahhhgh, talking of their dynamic makes me so happy, it’s making me want to continue writing my fics for them ;;;; I can’t wait to be done with my exams.

If you want to send more questions or anything else, I probably won’t be able to get to them until later this week, but it’s been a blast so far!!! <3

#sontails #they are sooo cute i think we all need to talk about that #thanks so much for indulging me again man! its so fun to share my headcanons for them #flashoneonetwo

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lightworkscompendium · 3 months

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The more people change, adapt and evolve as a species, the more things irrevocably and ultimately stay the same. The sun always rises in the east and sets to the west. The moon always has its phases as it grows from darkness to light, and then back as it rests. Even as great gray walls are erected and cities are built to house humanity en masse, the very nature of being human has not once changed in the end.

Life begets more life. And death, well - death, ultimately, arrives eventually and oftentimes without any warning or explanation. The unforgiving, usually unwanted visitor that snatches our loved ones away when we least expect it. People, without question, will always succumb to this fate eventually, no matter how long and hard one seeks out the magical elixir of eternal life and youth. Though, humans surely can attempt, no? Whatever gives them solace and peace in their fleeting existence, attempting to defy reality.

Without a doubt, death remains a constant even when it inevitably also evolves with us and integrates as part of the society we’ve built around ourselves. I’ve met death once before, as you might garner from all of that. Our meeting wasn’t by chance, nor was it under a circumstance that I can find any pride in, yet I cannot say I regret it either. I’ll say in no uncertain terms though, we did meet on what I would describe as the darkest night of my life. As a result, I came to realize that everything I thought I knew about the world, life, death, and even God, wasn’t all that it seemed. Not even my view on humanity itself, and each face that passes by me on the sidewalk every day, was quite as I’d always believed. Everything I thought I knew - was wrong. I was never quite so happy to learn that I could be so utterly wrong about everything, either.

I’ll tell you the story now, of how Death doesn’t ride a horse, or row a boat to ferry you across the River Styx. Death wasn't quite glamorous, nor were they a macabre skeleton with a scythe held at my neck while reaping my soul. For me, Death drove a plain white bus in the dead of night, politely pulling up to the sidewalk where I waited without quite knowing just what I was waiting for.

–

I can't remember what was going through my head or even the circumstances that led up to it, in all honesty. I remember the dread in my stomach, the pain in my chest, the bruises and cuts all over my body - both self inflicted and otherwise. I can't remember the exact instance that finally sent me over the edge, but I do remember that it was a conglomeration of many things. Low self worth. No confidence. I was a doormat to everyone and everything because as far as I cared, I didn't matter. My feelings didn't matter. I was a failure of a person in every way, someone who could never please anyone, no matter how hard I tried to. These ideas had been drilled into me from a young age, as seems to be true for a good many people who suffer the same feelings.

I remember how tired I was of everything, of absolutely everything and how badly I wanted it all to end. To end, permanently. After all, if I was as worthless as I felt at that moment, as useless and pitiful as everyone made me feel, then it wasn't a loss to anyone. Much less myself, since I wouldn't be wasting space, consuming food, and otherwise being in everyone else's way. I'd finally stop feeling, finally stop being a burden, and everyone else would finally be rid of me at long last. It was a comforting thought, as horrific as it was. I knew it was horrifying. I also didn't care.

So, come the dead of night and somewhere between feeling that existential dread buried in the pit of my stomach, and feeling nothing but absolute numbness, I did it. I took my entire bottle of sleeping medication, choking down every single pill with a certain finality that set in only after I'd swallowed them. This would be freedom. This would be the release from pain I'd sought all along! I laid there in the darkness of my bedroom afterwards, waiting for the inevitable sluggishness of my brain shutting down, and the shallow breaths I could only imagine would soon join, until they ceased all together. Death would claim me that night, and I finally felt peace knowing it.

–I couldn't really explain why even if I tried, but I remember laying there in the dark, feeling my consciousness starting to slip after a bit. I was crying of all things. In spite of this being exactly what I wanted, I was crying like a damned fool and soaking my stupid, ugly old pillow with those tears. I'm sure I cried all the way until I finally lost consciousness all together, but I can't remember that much. By that point I wasn't even aware if my breathing ever did stop. Everything was pure darkness. Everything was also peaceful.

–Or maybe I'm interjecting that feeling, in hindsight. Maybe at that moment I didn't actually feel anything at all because I'd lost that capacity with the total shutdown of mental function. It sounds better to say I was at peace, though, doesn't it?

–And then, I woke up. Sort of.

I woke up in a place I didn't exactly recognize at first; like waking up somewhere you don't remember falling asleep and having to retrace your steps so you can remember exactly how you got there. Except, I couldn't retrace my steps, and when I ‘woke up’, I was just standing outside with the rain pouring down all around me. It took a while of me just standing there in the rain for the memory of the night to slowly come back to me, vivid snapshots of my own body laying there in that old, shitty bed I slept on every night.

The memories of taking my medication, purposely overdosing myself to end it all. Where I normally felt that horrid existential dread buried in my stomach like a bar of lead, I found that I felt nothing anymore. It wasn't the numbness of before, either - maybe peace is the best way I can describe it. Peace that soon held a bittersweet edge to it, a weird sense of finality that was dawning on me the longer I stood there in the rain. The rain, I didn't feel it after all. It was like teardrops from the sky, I thought - crying for me? That was a hard one to believe, but I felt it in my stomach somehow, where the dread of before had overshadowed everything else.

I started to walk, hands outstretched in front of myself as if to try and catch and feel that pouring rain all around me. Yet, I could feel nothing - as if the rain was unable to touch me anymore. As if I was simply there, and yet nowhere at the same time. Existing, but not. Alive in a sense, but I already knew the truth in that I had succeeded and this wasn't just some kind of deep dream. At that moment, I knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that I was dead and there was no going back from that.

It was a weird sense that I can't describe in a way that is easily understood unless you've felt a similar way - but the closest thing I can use to describe it must be intuition. It was a feeling that echoes outward from the stomach and creates a little voice in your head, or perhaps an automatic epiphany of some sort. As I walked alongside a long stretch of road, with the sun setting somewhere in the distant beyond that I couldn't see, I knew I'd squandered something invaluable. Something so precious in the world, that had slipped between my open hands like sand.

It certainly hadn't felt like it in the moment - it felt like the only way out of the personal hell I was living in. Maybe that had also been an excuse. An easy way out of dealing with it all alone, because I felt so damn powerless to deal with it all on my own. Or maybe it was believing in the lies others had told me about myself, believing that maybe they could see through me in ways I couldn't see myself. Whatever the reason was, whatever I had chosen and acted on, I didn't blame myself somehow. It didn't feel right to. It was bittersweet and terribly sad to have it all dawn on me with the weight finally off my shoulders, but I didn't immediately hate myself as I normally would have. I didn't spiral into a self-loathing mantra of all the ways I was a fucking idiot.

I just was. I was just a human. A human who had made a sad, but understandable mistake. What was done was done.

I didn't wander for very long, it seemed. It felt like it couldn't have been more than ten or twenty minutes at most, although the exact amount of time is still not known to me. Eventually, up ahead of me on the road, I saw a big white bus driving up - the first sign of any kind of ‘life’ I'd seen since I woke up. I waved, flailed, and held my hands out in hope that maybe they would see me and stop, even if the idea felt absurd given my epiphany of being dead. To my surprise, the bus slowed and pulled off to the side, before coming to a complete stop just feet away from where I stood. The mechanical doors opened up a moment later, inviting me in without a word. I remember standing there dumbly for a few minutes, as if processing that the bus was, in fact, stopping for me and that I was welcome there.

I remember being surprised by that. Despite all my flailing about on the side of a road like an absolute madman, I really hadn't expected it to stop for me. I hadn't even expected it to be able to see me - although in hindsight once more, a pure white bus on an otherwise empty and desolate road, is just a tiny bit abnormal, no? I know now that it was going to stop regardless of my flailing, but I did give the driver a bit of a laugh at least.

“Well? Waiting for something?” The driver said with what I'd call a charismatic smile and a melodious chuckle. I was dumbstruck just a moment more before I shook my head quickly and climbed aboard, taking the first seat that I could find at the front. A quick survey around the bus and I would realize I wasn't alone, with a number of people who were wrapped in warm blankets and clothing, sleeping peacefully, or whom huddled together closely as if it was the only thing that kept them from tears. The doors closed and the bus started up again, the sound of the windshield wipers and the quiet rumble of the engine being the only sounds on the bus.

Curiosity soon burned at my mind in ways it hadn't in a very long time. Was everyone on this bus dead? Had they all died in different ways? Where were we all going–? A million different questions bubbled forth from somewhere within me and I couldn't help but break the uncanny silence that permeated the air.

“...May I ask… Where exactly is this?” I started, nervously fiddling about with my hands. As soon as I spoke the words aloud, I found that the same intuition from before had already answered the question in some dull and loose sense. Not as a direct answer, but as something abstract, like knowing the symbolism behind a full moon versus a new moon. I knew exactly what it was, but I couldn't quite get the words to flow through my mind in a way that made sense. The driver glanced back at me halfway, seeming to ponder my question as he tilted his head to one side and then the other.

“Well, well, as you know - and you do already know - you're quite dead aren't you? This place is what you might call “Purgatory”, or as I sometimes call it, “The space in-between”. You'll know when your stop is.” The driver said somewhat cryptically, his attention fully focused on the road once more. Not a single person on the bus stirred or gave any indication of caring about the disruption to the silence. The driver was correct - I already knew that I was dead, yes; although the confirmation only set it firmly in stone for me. A sigh passed by my lips, a vaguely somber feeling edging into my stomach once more.

“... My apologies for interrupting your work…” I began, feeling that familiar overly polite demeanor of mine kicking into gear. Just, without the undertones of self loathing and resentment to color it with insincerity. “I would guess… Everyone here is also dead then, yes? And you… you must be…?”

I trailed off, leaving the implication open. As for the driver, I already knew intuitively who he was, as well, but I would have to say without a doubt that for such a figure, he wasn't a very imposing type. He had a soft, round looking face and gentle brown eyes. Atop his head, he had a black colored hat of some sort on - it reminded me just a little bit of the hats a train conductor would wear. Beneath it, fluffy and soft looking brownish hair peeked out and curled at the nape of his neck. He wore formal clothing, but his overall demeanor was relaxed and soothing somehow.

There was silence for just a little bit, and then a soft laugh came from the driver. “You're not mistaken.” He said in a playful manner that held a certain undertone of empathy. Or perhaps it was sadness? I couldn't tell you precisely, in truth, but it wasn't difficult to tell that while he took pride in his job, he felt genuinely for the souls aboard his bus. He understood their pain and suffering in ways that I could scarcely begin to imagine.

“I am death in most concepts of the word. Not quite the one who strikes a soul from their body to reap it - there is no such entity as that, you see? No such entity quite assigned to the natural breakdown of organic matter into decay, and to rot and then once more to the Earth from whence all was borne. Except for mushrooms, maybe. That's another tale, however!” He laughed in a boisterous way, as if finding his own musings to be quite funny. I cocked my head to the side, not sure what to make of it in the slightest. Although the more I quietly thought about what he'd said, I could find a certain humor in it. It was funny.

People were terrified of death, terrified of the unknown and the inevitable aspects of death, of the decay and the rot and the eventual return to Earth, but for what? Was it so terrifying to not know what becomes of us? Perhaps it was my own morbid sense of humor that had me lost on it, but death was a curious thing to me at most points during my life. In the blink of an eye we're here, and then gone again. From the Earth and then consumed as a nutrient for it once more, feeding the decay and the rot which gives way to a new extant form of life. I couldn't say I minded the idea of becoming a mushroom. The thought was funny to me in its own way.

As did the thought that we all struggle and fight tooth and nail to live and thrive and be ahead of the game, when we're all going to be buried the same and devoured by worms nonetheless. An unbreakable cycle by which our flesh would erode and leave behind a husk of bone and marrow. Rich, old, young, poor, it didn't matter our sex or race or anything besides being of mortal form, we would all go to the grave the same. We would all take the same bus to wherever our destination was next.

And as for myself, I had made a mistake of putting myself into an early grave. All because I didn't see value in the places where I was worth more than all the gold and diamonds in the world. Of course, I didn't quite understand all of that immediately - but it was something that I slowly began to grasp while I sat on the bus, hands gently clasped together as I glanced outside and into the rain. Without the weight in my stomach and all of the emotions I'd forced myself to choke down like those pills that sat dissolving in my stomach, I could think clearly. I could think concisely about how funny life was. Little epiphanies that seemed to come one after another after another.

Then, finally, “... Do you know how everyone on this bus died?” I asked, a touch of shame entering my voice. I felt at once like a child who was about to be scolded for stealing a cookie from the cookie jar, but considerably worse so.

Death sent a quick glance my way and then nodded with an apologetic kind of smile. It was as if he didn't want me to feel, for even just one moment, like he despised me or felt badly about the choice I'd made that night. Where I think many others would look my way and judge my every movement, my every question I'd asked thus far, and even my feelings themselves, I never felt such from Death himself. Death hadn't taken any jabs at me, hadn't demeaned me for being too weak to live. Death looked upon me with sympathy as he knew, he knew the feelings weighing upon my heart and how difficult they were.

And I, as I knew so inherently from the intuitive senses I seemed to more properly embody in this state, was not alone. I had always felt so very, horribly, awfully alone in all of my sufferings at that time, but at this moment I was filled with the sense and knowing that I had never been truly alone. I had merely been unable to see that everyone around me, for as brightly as they smiled and hid their pain, were also suffering and feeling the depths of loneliness. Many like me, also could not see a way out of it alone, or felt that their worth was nil compared to those who carried themselves like proud kings and queens amongst commoners.

Death spoke up in a soft tone, one filled with a certain kindness that was unlike that of any normal person I'd ever known, surely. “Upon this bus are the elderly and the tired. The martyrs and the shunned. Those who have had their lives stolen, their bodies used in terrible ways. There are peacemakers and peace takers, rich and poor, every manner of which results quite the same. Whether you were Hitler himself or one who was victim of his genocide, the end will not differ. That which is flesh and bone returns all the same.”

That was quite a thought, and one which caused a certain bitter resentment to bubble up within me for reasons I understood quite plainly. Why should those who made others suffer be allowed to simply be at rest, at peace, when they caused such suffering upon another? Why should they be allowed any kindness at all? Why should anyone so utterly debased and foul be allowed redemption of any form? I felt this rage bubble within me for several silent moments, and then just as quickly snuff itself out into oblivion.

My personal resentment aside, I seemed to inherently pick up on the subtle reality of that, too. The feelings we all felt while we were alive, the actions we took individually and even against one another, while inexcusable in every context, were prone to likewise decay. In the endless expansion of life and death and the universe itself, it mattered on a human level as to prevent such atrocities from taking place again. It mattered on a level of remembering the lives lost to tragic events, as each life lived was an irreplaceable one that could never again be seen to the same degree. However, on a level of decay and entropy amidst an ever swirling expanse of universe, it was as insubstantial as a child shoving the end of a hose into a nest of ants and drowning them all. Did ants mourn their fallen sisters as we mourn those lost to war and famine and ultimately decay?

“... Do you suppose they regret what they've done in the end?” I asked, knowing at least the answer that was true to myself. For myself. Seeing the world with eyes wide open and clearer than ever before, I knew what I had done and that it ultimately wasn't only me who would suffer. It hadn't mattered in the moment when I was pushed over the edge, who I hurt or how badly. The only thing that mattered was me, in that moment, who couldn't stand to go forward another single day with the knot of dread in my stomach and knowing there was no feasible end in sight.

Death smiled and pulled the bus to the side of the road, the back doors opening. I was suddenly hit with the sense that it was time to go - a strange thing, since I had only been on the bus for what felt like a very short time. Maybe a half an hour at most. As I rose to leave, Death called out one final time. “Maybe you can tell me the answer to that one. I've wondered for a long time, myself.”

I laughed quietly to myself and said, “Regret or not, what's done is done. That's finality,” and left the bus, finding that outside was nothing but a starkly bright light that I felt should have burned my eyes. I went forward into it, ready to embrace what came next.

…

And well, I woke up in the hospital hooked up to God knows how many things, but I was… Alive. Alive… and not exactly well, but that was fine for the moment. I was alive.

The rest is for another story all together.

#original writing #suicide #death and decay #drug usage #tw overdose

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applestorms · 11 months

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been reading through some of the author commentary from the patreon post archive for HS^2 stuff & writing notes on certain quotes from it and i think i've come up with (slightly) more distinct reasons for why the epilogues/homestuck^2 feel so off and/or frustrating to me. not gonna post the full thing + i'm only about halfway through reading it all, but here's a few points (warning this one gets kinda political):

It’s possible “Ultimate” Dirk’s presence was suppressing other splinters of himself from manifesting.

Wait, so... Ult. Dirk is just suppressing the other splinters? But I thought the entire point was that he subsumed all the other splinters to become one Ultimate Self? Weird, but I guess that plays more into the narrative powers side of things that they put a lot of emphasis on. That, or the creators don't have a very clear idea of what actually makes an Ultimate Self, which would. also work lmfao

Unlike the other victors of the game, Jane threw herself into the world the kids made together. She grew up preparing to take over a major company, and has the confidence to show for it.

Gonna get more into two ideas here in a bit related to this quote, the first being HS^2's Trump Era politics & the second being Jane more specifically. Here's the first connection:

I don’t know if you noticed, but everything is terrible right now. And I don’t mean just in Homestuck’s dumb fake earth. I mean in our dumb real earth. Our planet is burning and folks go to bed hungry just so twelve guys can have more money than Croesus could have ever dreamed of. The concept of “truth” is at its most tenuous – political divisions involve contradictory interpretations of basic facts. I’ve been playing a lot of Death Stranding recently. Basically any media that you’re making in 2019 has to either address what’s going on around us or come off sanitized, sterilized, with its head in the sand. Kojima offers a simple power fantasy: Through Norman Reedus’s sweaty, urine-filled labor, the things that divide us can be banished. America can be unified again.

HS^2 is kind of agonizingly pessimistic when it comes to its (not at all subtle) political messaging, which I suppose you can in part attribute to a Trump-era leftist/liberal culture, but I personally also attribute to a specific flavor of white person existential pessimism. What frustrates me about HS^2's politics in particular though is just how much it talks down to the reader, acting like their (frankly, imo, pretty fuckin basic) reflections on the flaws of capitalism, gender constructs, and contemporary American politics are these revolutionary ideas that nobody other than them truly understands. It's really aggravating to read, honestly, and reminds me a lot of the perspective reflected on in this video by F.D Signifier about Bo Burnham's Inside & white performative liberalism, though in this context the creators are much more insufferable about it than Burnham ever was. (This is NOT to say every creator working on HS^2 was white or even ascribes/d to these kinds of politics, but that's one of the voices that I feel comes through the strongest.)

Edit: Re-watched that whole video and he really does get at the exact idea I'm thinking of. However, I would add that the thing that makes HS^2 feel especially insufferable to me is the fact that it doesn't feel like the authors are engaging in their politics as genuinely or personally as Burnham does. Where Burnham's look into these issues is self-reflective, the existential dread coming from the ways in which he himself plays a part in perpetuation of systems of oppression, I feel like HS^2's creators were unwilling to look at the ways in which they themselves might've benefited from the same kinds of privileges. It's just- it's egotistical, honestly! And it's a vibe that I get from a lot of heavily queer, young, white fandom spaces, which presume that because of their own experiences with queer and trans-based bigotry they understand everything and don't have to examine their own biases or any other nuances to their social position/the privileges they might personally have & continue to benefit from. I don't know- Homestuck was never going to be a good medium for examining the nuances of race and privilege, that was determined by the very first page or whenever Hussie decided non-canon races were a thing, but that doesn't make it any less agonizing to watch such a ham-fisted, pompous attempt at "social commentary." Ugh.

I guess I can understand the desire to get HS^2's politics to be more up to date and with it, again considering what the Trump-era American political landscape looked like (and what HS proper looked like, let's be real), but the way they approach this just makes the authors seem that much more immature to me. I hesitate to even call this political commentary, it's just pointing out that things are bad and then complaining about it. There's no hope here and it shows, and I personally have very little patience when it comes to that kind of perspective. I don't want to be too harsh to the creators or completely undermine the ways they might've faced structural social challenges (yes, trans people have it fucking bad right now! And there was absolutely some bigoted shit directed at the creators that was more reprehensible than anything here, I was there when this shit was coming out, I saw it all too (alongside the genuinely good criticism that they wrote off just as easily, but I digress)), but this shit is just bad, I'm sorry.

Privilege, safety, and inherited wealth do funny things to the brain. People justify to themselves why they have what they have. If you have enough for long enough, you start to convince yourself you deserve it. Jane won the game, lost very little, and as god of a new world decided to dominate its markets as a corporate mogul. Her conception of what was possible with her capability and god-like reason was shaded, limited by the world she grew up in. She is not a goddess of fantasy, a semi-mythical trickster creature like Jasprose, or a meta-aware marionette master like Dirk. She saw a new world and chose, simply, to replicate the power structures of the 21st-century America she was raised in. Boardrooms, power pantsuits, formality and professionalism.

(Longer quote here justifying the horror they did to Jane's character but let's add one more before I elaborate further)

But in the end, isn’t that what every story is? Trying to untie knots that you put in the rope yourself?

This quote is very telling and gets at my issue with the Jane quote from above, really one of my main issues with the all post-canon shit just in general: when the authors were creating a bunch of problems and inserting them into the story, something that is (typically) necessary for any kind of meaningful storytelling, they went about the process of introducing that conflict totally wrong.

In the original story of HS, problems for the characters primarily originated from Sburb, which acts as both the game they're playing and, as is demonstrated throughout Act 1, the world itself. Problems in the story thus often feel at least kind of true to life because they either originate directly from the game & its constructs (which the characters have no control over, parallel to how you can't usually control the world irl) or individuals responding to those circumstances w/ their own set of unique characteristics (Vriska being an active character and creating villains to become a hero but also Rose deciding she has to go through with a suicide mission in response to the game/Doc Scratch and Dave in turn responding to her actions, etc. etc.).

This is not necessarily true for all of the story or every single plot point/character arc, but I think it generally follows, and so for as meta as HS gets, it never really felt to me like you could see the hand of the author when it comes to how major plot elements are introduced, outside of a few very overt examples. Problems are able to crop up fairly naturally through characters responding in what they think to be natural/rational ways to their circumstances, but may or may not be due to the limitations on their understanding. The situation and environment of Sburb and the world of HS itself may be absurd and stupid and crazy and very obviously created by an author, but the characters typically feel consistent and true to themselves as people in how they respond to the absurdity and confusion of their world. It's one of the reasons why I think HS is so appealing as a coming of age story actually, since stepping into adulthood (or even just your teenage years) does often feel like entering a world that is crazy and cruel and unknowable with all of these malicious, far-away forces that know way more than you could ever possibly understand controlling every detail of the world around you and deciding your fate before you even get the chance to know it's coming. These are kids, they really don't have a lot of power even once they ascend to godhood in comparison to the forces they're dealing with, and the story & world reflects that.

The problem w/ HS^2 & the Epilogues is that the authors don't have the same game construct to work with, barely have a world at all to begin with actually, and so they instead twist pretty much every single character into the worst possible versions of themselves in order to try and recreate the same HS absurdity. But it just doesn't work, because there is no real explanation for why every character is suddenly at their lowest point and acting like a fucking idiot all the time other than "ooo adulthood makes everyone worse!" and vague gestures to capitalism and privilege (or what I would call structural ignorance, though I don't think they ever call it that), so the story just comes across as incredibly cruel and uncaring and unabashedly pessimistic in a way that's just miserable to read.

Yes, Jane grew up privileged, it makes sense that she would be sympathetic to capitalism and try to recreate the same social structures that fucked people up on the original Earth- but that is not nearly enough justification for why she has suddenly gone full fascist dictator endorsing troll eugenics and trying to murder people, and it doesn't even work well as social commentary cause it's so extreme right from the start that it couldn't possibly reflect real life issues or the development of actual fascist/bigoted ideas. Yes, Trump's ties to the alt-right are fucking terrifying and conservative politics in general in the U.S. nowadays are incredibly fucked, but there's still logical people and seemingly rational explanations being utilized to justify the bullshit that many people genuinely believe in and HS^2 fails to meaningfully reflect or comment on any of those, at least from what I can tell. Everyone is consistent with how they are terrible, I'll give them that, for Dirk and Jane and everyone else the flaws that are being emphasized are ones that are generally kind of consistent with canon, but I simply cannot get behind why they suddenly decided to be the worst possible versions of themselves other than that the authors realize they needed plot and decided that the best way to make Candy and Meat the Bad Timelines:tm: was to spontaneously make everyone as insufferable as possible.

I think a part of the problem is the time skip, honestly. And the fact that Earth C as a location itself is surprisingly underutilized when it comes to creating problems for the characters. The characters are gods ruling over a world where they can be dictator of the globe at the end of a single election. Without the game and the lack of distinct outside villains, there is nothing stopping them from having full agency over everything other than each other, so in order to create plot, instead of going through the effort to create a world or social structure they just made everyone worse and called it a day. It's like the epitome of white liberalism's inability to understand bad systems vs. bad individuals- there are no real systems here, nothing that actually functions past a name, so everyone is just fucking terrible.

(Honestly, I think the fact that there are no overt outside villains could've been a good way of transitioning to the fact that these characters aren't kids anymore- if Dirk and Jane didn't have to be transformed into fucking caricatures of themselves in order to do it. Really the problem is that so many of the characters that used to add interesting nuance to the social conflict are fucking dead now. RIP trolls.)

Since this is turning out to be the political astronaut ramble I guess I'll just keep going for a bit: one of the most meaningful insights a professor has ever given to me came is the idea that we "haven't earned our pessimism yet," as the younger generations, or haven't faced The Shit directly or long enough to justify having as little hope as we do. Many of us have looked at the problem and given up before even trying to solve it, and are, in fact, not really justified in making such a decision.

For me, there's an additional layer to that idea as well: one of the ideas that Beauvoir talks about in her feminist philosophy is that of agency, wherein social privilege allows for certain groups to decide which meaning-creating projects they want to or to not take on where others are not allowed to make the same choice. If you sit in any kind of position of social privilege, that historical role has continually been the one to not only benefit from the rules, but make them in the first place. This kind of pessimism is thus not just unearned, not just frustrating to listen to, but actively harmful to the creation of meaningful change. Who really benefits from inaction? From a lack of change to the status quo? And who are the privileged to make decisions about whether or not we're allowed to fight for this shit in the first place?

#astronaut rambles #big warning this one got a lot more political (sorry?)#i hope this doesn't come across as too harsh ik it gets a little preachy at the end #but i just. i have *so* little patience for that shit now guys #it was insufferable when hs^2 was first coming out and the creators were scrambling to justify their own actions #all the while bullying any fans that dared to try and reasonably criticize their terrible and/or questionable creative decisions #and it only gets worse the more time that passes #i almost get secondhand embarrassment reading these commentaries just from how unprofessional they can be #do not recommend #hs #rose tag #it's kind of difficult for me to properly criticize post-canon stuff actually #i don't know what it is about it #it's like it's just consistent enough w/ just enough half-decent ideas that sometimes i think its not that bad or ill even enjoy parts of i #but then i read certain comments and just. Remember #the Horrors #kinda scared to post this one but i've read it over a few times guess i'll just go for it

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mrvdocks · 2 years

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Life As We Know It VII.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Reader

Chapter Summary: Robin comes over to help you out and for moral support. Your relationship with Steve starts to take a turn.

Author's Note: whaaaat??? I'm posting again? And more than once in a row?? No but for real hey y’all! hope y’all are still enjoying the fic even after its long and much awaited return :)) also the nickname that Robin gives the reader as “Bee” is meant to be like bumblebee and an affectionate term based on their history.

There’s always someone there when you’re born. Whether it’s a nurse, a doctor, your mom, your dad, anyone really. You’re never alone.

When you die however, that’s when it gets tricky. Some people die alone. Some die with strangers. And sometimes some just die in places no one will ever find them.

You hoped it was the latter for your friends, embracing death surrounded by those they loved.

The rapid rhythm of your heart persisted, going crazy in your rib cage at the thought of existential dread. Parenthood wasn’t something you were particularly crazy or happy about. Hell, you weren’t sure you had the right upbringing either. Co-parenting with Steve was also the least of your worries. But there was a tiny voice in your head - you couldn’t tell if it was Nancy’s or Jonathan’s - that urged you to go on in their ever so usual forcing yet gentle tones.

You wished for a simpler peace. Instead all you got were a baby, a manchild, and a booklet on how to plan for funerals.

The booklet went tap - tap - tap on your chest, nearly ripping off its stapled spine after so much looking through it. You set it aside, choosing to not look at it any further. You weren’t so determined to get up, you much rather would wait to lay in bed until you heard Abby’s cries. Either way, Steve was still soundly asleep on the big couch in front of the television in the living room.

You were waiting for Robin to show up to the house, who knew funeral planning took a village?

Once your phone buzzed and you nearly ripped it off of the charging pod to confirm her arrival, you lept up and out of the messy bed and down the stairs. Steve remained asleep even during the heavy pattering of your feet against the wooden stairs. Not surprising, he’d gone out the night before and gotten absolutely plastered.

After his small outburst in the car a few days ago, it wasn’t hard to understand why he was acting this way. That he had a right to be upset about uprooting his life. That’s where you found similarities in each other. But where you differed was where and how you both sought to cope. He went out and partied while you stayed home and let every emotion overwhelm you until you cried your eyes out and became dehydrated.

You chuckled dryly to yourself, feeling a familiar familial feeling to it.

Robin had been an absolute rock for both of you during this time, obviously being the voice of reason that kept you and Steve from going at it like usual. Though Robin and Kali would often spend time with you two, Kali was often busy running the bar and so Robin would come in when she could. The two of them often taking turns checking up on everyone. Will called the day after the news hit their side, a sobbing and slobbering mess like you. He promised to visit soon, just as soon as Joyce got a little better, though the news only seemed to make her health decline.

Though you suddenly had a help line, you felt so ashamed to ask for help or emotional guidance. It wasn’t something you grew up with nor was it something your family ever offered. To have that felt strange and foreign.

Robin carried an array of mail from outside, groceries, and along with a bag that contained a change of clothes for Steve. She beamed slightly, showing off her pearly whites as she entered the threshold and waved at you with her free hand. You smiled back slightly. It felt odd to you. Especially when all you did was the opposite. But Robin was a glass half full kind of person, always so persistent to keep going.

“Hey Bee, got you some essentials and some other things. Didn’t know what you needed so I just kind of grabbed whatever I thought you’d like, hope that’s okay.”

“More than okay,” you respond, taking the things from her and walking over to the kitchen and setting everything on the island. “Anything works at this point. I don’t really know what to make here or even have the appetite to eat anyway.”

Her brows furrow, “You have to eat Bee- you’re starting to look a little like a ghost. When’s the last time you got some sun or something?”

Suddenly self conscious, you wrap your arms around your body and shrug. “I dunno. I haven’t really gone out since we picked up Abby. Nancy kept some snacks or cereal bars around so that’s all I’ve had.”

Robin shakes her head sympathetically. “Well, I brought food so we’re going to try to make something. You know I can’t cook to save my life so let’s see what we get otherwise we’re getting takeout.”

This spurs a chuckle out of you. You silently agree.

It only takes the two of you about nearly an hour or two to somehow pull through making a simple dish and conversations that go from whatever’s on tv at the moment to deep personal things for you to feel somewhat normal again.

“How’re you feeling?” She suddenly asks, her mouth slightly muffled from the food she was bringing to her lips to eat. “Still scared?”

You don’t know how to answer that, no one’s asked you that yet. Or maybe they have. You’re not sure. You’ve been blanking a lot lately.

You feel your shoulders drop as you release a sigh. “Not so much scared - just hopeful. I want to be someone Abby can depend on. Not just some cheap replacement for her real parents. I want to be able to do something for myself or for someone else and not be seen as this girl from Hawkins from the other side of the tracks everyone should feel sorry for.”

Especially when tragedy seems to always follow you.

“First of all, you're not a cheap replacement. Jonathan and Nancy picked you for a reason. They trusted you, they loved you, they knew just how much you love Abby and they knew you could do so much more for her if you had the chance. Second, no one is thinking that of you. Your past isn’t you and it’s definitely not your future. You’re better than that. You know you are. And you know you’ll be a great godmother.”

You poke at your food with the fork in your hand. “I just feel like - I don’t know if I agree with their choice to help me. I mean this is all just so unconventional.”

Robin snorts. “You’re talking to the ‘Queen of Unconventional', here. But Steve….he has his moments of vulnerability. Is he a fast talking womanizer who only thinks of getting his dick wet and rocking out sometimes? Yes, absolutely. But he’s still got a heart of gold. At least that’s what I remember from working with him at Family Video.”

“You know, I just can’t help but think this is Nancy’s last laugh. Like it’s her way of putting him and I together again. Even dead I can’t shake her damn matchmaking skills.”

“You’re putting too much faith into a dead woman’s last will. Whatever happened to seeing his brother? Or literally anyone else?”

“Trust me, out of all the people in the world, he’s the last person I’d even consider to repopulate the Earth. But I haven’t seen his brother since her last appointment. I’d imagine he probably would be coming to the funeral or something.”

Robin chokes on her food.

“Swallow, Robin. Also, I don’t need another friend to leave me behind too.” You remind her.

“I did - you just caught me off guard. Is that not like a hippo violation or something? Going to your patient’s mother’s funeral?”

“HIPAA - and I don’t know. Just seems like the respectful thing to do. It’s not like Steve will alert me if he comes either. He doesn’t seem like he likes him that much.”

“Oh yeah, they go way way back. You know, usual sibling rivalry stuff. But Steve never talks about it. I just get it all from looks and vibes. But you know, you should probably check that out.”

“I figured. I mean don’t get me wrong he’s cute and smart. But I’m not sure if I’m all that prepared or ready to go out there. Most guys don’t want to sit here with a baby and a co parent as a part of the deal.”

“And if they do? There’s got to be at least one man out there that doesn’t mind a baby already existing in the equation. Steve is easily removable. I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You conclude, just as Steve himself walks in. It profoundly startles both of you, sending you leaping back a foot and Robin shook as she slides off the island counter to smack him with the spoonful of food.

“What are you - a Prius?’ She wacks him once on the shoulder. “We need to put a bell on you or something.”

Steve chuckles heartily. “That defeats the purpose of the charm. The ladies can’t see me coming.”

“Or it could be a warning. Maybe they’ll thank us.” You interject, making eye contact with him long enough for the two of you to exchange silly childish looks.

He gives the food a glance and claps his hands together, “Alright, food! I’m starving.”

Both you and Robin place your arms dramatically over the food, “We made this! Go get your own food!”

Steve fights back and leans a fast hand under Robin’s armpit to tickle her which sends her jumping back, spilling hot sauce on her shirt, and away from the food. He immediately rips away a bowl of chicken and rice and rushes out the kitchen to eat in the living room.

“Robin!” You exclaim, rushing to your friend. Robin mimics a soldier who’s been hurt on the battlefield.

“How bad is it Doc?” She fake winces.

You run a hand up the hot sauce, ignoring that it looks like blood, and lick it clean from your finger. “We’re going to have to amputate.”

Robin remains in character as she whines and helps you lift her up. She grabs a fistful of napkins and cleans herself up, but not before offering some words of wisdom.

“Go get him back!”

As if on cue, you rush out of the kitchen and to the living room where Steve is beginning to sit and get comfortable as he flips through channels. Once he sets the bowl of food on the coffee table a few feet in front of him is when you attack. You lunge forward to grasp him from behind, pouncing and wrapping your arms and legs around his chest and waist. The sudden weight is enough to send both of you falling to the floor with an oomph! sound.

Steve gets the upper hand when he slides a hand into your shirt backwards and uses the same maneuver he did on Robin. It’s your greatest weakness and it makes you release him from your somewhat vice grip. Next thing you know, Steve’s in-between your legs hovering over you as he uses one hand to torture you and the other to hold your hands up above your head to stop you from recovering.

It happens so fast, it even takes Robin by surprise as she peers out from the kitchen and walks over. You’re both breathing hard on the floor, coming down from mutual attacks and staring at each other intently.

“Truce?” Steve asks huskily, his necklace dangling ever so slightly above your face. The cold silver guitar pick grazes your face as he repeats his question.

Suddenly aware of the change in position, you feel yourself go red. You’re now realizing your hot breath is on his face, which should’ve smelled like food, but he doesn’t seem deterred by it. In fact, your eyes are trained on him now, scouring over his soft features. The laughter lines, the faint yet many moles he has, the bridge of his nose, his over the top hair, it all comes into a soft focus like when you place a camera lens to fade everything out in the back.

His own eyes are studying you back. Taking in the way your chest rises heavily up and down as you try to regain your breathing to normal, the white v-neck shirt not doing much to hide it, the way your hair splayed out from underneath you to halo your face.

“Truce.” You breathe out, nodding quickly and splaying out your hands in surrender.

There’s a weird moment in between him getting up and off of you that Robin comments on later to Steve. One where the general animosity towards each other seems to take a backseat and Robin wonders if you’d both benefit from a hate fuck. But in the moment it doesn’t just feel like Steve is piercing your body with his eyes, but something in his eyes soften slightly. His face does actually, the same face you make when you forget something and suddenly remember and it was something you wanted to remember or find.

It’s a minute until you’re pulled up by him and settled on your feet. You both cough or do nervous tics that allow the other to excuse one other to get out of the situation. Robin keeps her laughter to herself as she watches you drag yourself back to the kitchen, teeth biting down on your bottom lip and eyes shut tight. She doesn’t need to use her infamous quips this time, you can already hear her.

You're passed out on the couch with your feet resting on Steve's lap as he sips on some can and finishes his bowl of stolen food. His encounter with you and Robin earlier didn't deter his appetite.

Robin sits lazily on the couch across from him, face in her knuckle as she tries not to fall asleep. Steve notices her nodding off and swings a foot over to her knee. Robin is startled momentarily before she smacks his foot away.

He sighs as he moves your legs aside and sits up.

"C'mon, time to go to bed. Go home. I got this." He says, confidently.

"No, you'll set the house on fire." Robin argues.

"Okay, it was one time and I was seven! I didn't know aluminum didn't go in the microwave."

Robin chuckles to herself and rolls her tired eyes. She stands up nonetheless. She rubs her tired eyes momentarily, glancing to you splayed out on the couch, clutching the multi color crochet blanket close to your face, soft snores erupting from you. Steve catches her glance and turns.

There had been less animosity towards each other since the car incident. While Steve still kept up appearances with you, he knew that this big change was definitely affecting his life in all aspects. His band, his love life, any freedom he thought he had.

As if she’s read his mind, Robin nudges him on the shoulder as she opens up the front door.

“How’s Monroe?”

Steve turns back to face Robin, remembering the mini fight he had with his on and off girlfriend when he had revealed his new parentage. He doesn’t know if she’s asking because she’s genuinely interested in knowing or if she’s trying to fill in the void of the late night.

He shrugs. “She doesn’t really see a kid being in the mix right now. I mean I get it. No one does. But it doesn’t matter. Us Harrington men don’t stay single for too long.”

There goes that smug face of his. His armor. Robin gives him a suspicious look, she always knew when he was being genuine or full of shit. Just a downside but also a perk of their very long friendship.

“Hmm,” she decides she’ll believe it this time. She turns her attention back to you. “Don’t forget to take her to bed.”

Before he can make a joke, Robin is steadfast ready with her correction. “Don’t.”

He gives a chuckle.

“Tuck her in, take her makeup off, be a gentleman for once.”

He places a hand on his chest, feigning being hurt by the comment. “Ouch Rob! You know I’m always a gentleman.”

She squints as she smirks. “Mhmm.”

She waves goodbye and Steve feels that feeling again as he closes the door. One where he feels alone even though you and Abby are within close proximity. He signs deeply as he reclines his back on the door.

He shuffles quietly to you, preparing himself to lift you as he snakes an arm under your knees and your back. With a small grunt he lifts and adjusts you, making sure you don’t hit your head on the banister or buster of the stairs. To his surprise, you don’t wake up amongst all the noise his heavier footsteps make up the stairs.

He kicks open the guest bedroom with his foot gently, getting it to open wide enough to shuffle clumsily into the room and let you roll off of him and onto the bed with a soft bounce.

Remembering Robin’s advice, he makes quick work of your borrowed house slippers and is careful to bring the covers laying on top of the ottoman at the foot of the bed to wrap around you. He tucks one side in under you, earning a small jump from your sleeping frame.

Ticklish, huh? Hm. He thinks to himself.

Steve finishes up carefully, stepping into the shared bathroom within the bedroom and ruffles through the contents of some of the drawers to find those makeup wipes he’d gotten so used to seeing overnight at his place.

Less is more. He knows by now.

Grabbing one or two wipes, he starts back to the room. He sits by your left side, careful to crane your head to face him and rub slowly and in circles for maximum effect. The cold touch of the wipes doesn’t wake you totally but you do shiver in response. He pauses for a moment, the pad of his right thumb feeling the soft yet wet skin. It’s so bare, so clean, so fresh.

He wonders if there’s something like this but for the soul. Something that allows him a fresh start. He can only guess it’s the situation he’s in now.

He finishes working on the other side of your face and dumps the wipes in the bin next to the bed, taking one last look at you. He shakes his head as he stands, ignoring whatever his mind or body are telling him, just as he was earlier when he had you pinned.

The good thing about the room you were staying in is that it was just across Abby’s own, making Steve’s late night patrol easier. He stares down at the old looking translucent doorknob, his hand hesitating just for a second. He knows that as soon as he walks in it’ll cement his status here with you. A parent. A father - no - stepfather. Just a replacement. A second choice. Always a second choice, it seemed.

Screw it.

The mobile’s lullaby is playing a rendition of a classic children’s song and the night light is illuminating the somewhat dark room in starry shapes when he walks in. He grips the doorknob until he feels ready to tread lightly towards the crib in front of him.

When two songs play and pass, he finally moves. Abby comes into closer view as he peers over her sleeping form. She’s splayed out like any normal sleeping baby, head turned to the right, chubby little arms and fingers above her head, little similarly chubby legs ever so often kicking at the blanket at her feet.

Steve reaches a hand in the crib and brings the blanket back up to her waist, the action so soft and yet so slow that it wakes Abby momentarily. Her little lashes blink up at him as she yawns and stares at him for a minute. Something tells Steve to reach out a finger, so he does. She stares at it as she brings up a tiny hand to grasp it. Steve lets out a soft incredulous laugh. Abby coos as she inspects his finger, somehow finding it amusing.

Steve feels a small smile tug at the corners of his lips. He wishes he could live in the feeling that he feels in the moment. To bottle it up and take it in small doses when reality becomes too much. When all he can feel is doubt and anxiety and stress.

The moment fades when Abby gets tired of his finger and her lids shut. She lets out a small shuddering yawn and goes back to dreamland, the lullaby from the mobile accompanying her on her journey. Steve decides to stay there, just in case she wakes up again. He pulls up the rocking chair next to the crib and sits, keeping an eye on the way she breathes.

He rocks gently back and forth until he feels his own eyelids start to fall, until he feels his head sulk to the side and sleep overtakes him.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve x reader #lawki #stranger things imagine

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bomberqueen17 · 2 years

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getaway

so it was my 20th anniversary with Dude this past weekend, so I got back from the farm on Saturday and on Sunday we drove to the Finger Lakes and stayed two nights in this.... well it was an inn, and it was just this side of bonkers, and it’s a long story but we definitely admired their ability to walk that fine line of wow this is weird and come up on the but i like it side instead of i gotta get outta here.

Anyway it was really lovely and we had a lovely time and the most important thing was the company, of course, yadda yadda, but I got home on Tuesday night into the worst case of Sunday Scaries I’ve had in a while, and I am just. So full of dread and despair today folks, so full of it.

cut for whining, mostly job-search-related but also existential!

Nothing I do is worth money, no job I’ve ever had has actually wanted me there except as a warm body to grudgingly pay the least amount they could get away with. I have no marketable skills. I can write novels, but not on demand. And really, that’s the problem-- up to 80% of my mind at any given time is taken up with fake things, imaginary worlds and situations, and I can’t focus anyway but even if I could, I wouldn’t focus on the real world, because the real world sucks, and I’m wildly productive at real-world things but not in ways that anyone ever in the history of ever has wanted to pay me for. i’ve done a lot of really skilled volunteer jobs but they are all things nobody is going to pay actual money for.

The only thing I want to do, the only thing I have ever wanted to do, the only thing I have ever consistently done, is write, and the way our economy and culture and publishing system works, that is something I can never be paid money for. I will never earn a living, and I will never even earn more than expenses unless I devote attention I simply don’t possess to marketing and other things, which I cannot do and have no skills in. So that’s out.

But I should be honest: all I’m doing is trying to earn enough paychecks in my life that someone will someday say “Okay you can stop” and let me go write for a while, and that’s not going to happen, so.

Yeah I also keep hoping they’ll find money to pay me with at the farm but that keeps not happening. I needed to find myself a job to do that would provide a revenue stream for them to pay me from, but when I tried to be the flowers person they refused to hire me for that one and hired someone who flaked out instead and this year’s plan for that is apparently none of my business, and now i was trying to be the person doing commercial kitchen stuff but they’re already talking about the people they want to hire for that and i’m not any of those either, and I guess I gotta put on my big girl panties and ask directly but I did that for flowers and the rejection really stung and so I’m not looking forward to that. but it’s better than wishing, i suppose.

I had always idly thought if I finished any of my original novels ever I could put those somewhere and sell them but well first I’d have to find the time, and second, watching joy demorra’s (bibliosphere) posts about how little money Amazon actually gives to her is so demoralizing. I’ll only do that if I don’t actually need the money, jesus christ. meanwhile i’d rather sate my encompassing addiction with fanfic because then i can at least be realistic that it doesn’t pay money. Again, better than wishing.

But I’m just old and tired, and all the frustrations of this job I’ve spent twelve years at being grudgingly paid the least they can get away with, with my poorly-defined job description it’s a nightmare to navigate on the daily, are just piling up extra, and I am so tired of the only things I enjoy and am supported in doing in this world are things that do not actually contribute to my actually having food and shelter. It’s not that I’m trying to do what I love or whatever, I know that’s a fake idea, I’m just so tired that there are so many calls for me to work hard in ways I love, and those have to come out of my own reserves, I pay to do them, and then I have to poorly do a terrible job at a job that dislikes me in order to get any money, to afford to be able to do the things I love that cost money to do, and it’s just frustrating because the things I love are also hard work and I don’t know how to solve that. I’m not even explaining it well! I’m just very tired.

It is all irredeemable whining but when I think too hard about this it cuts into my ability to write; I was making progress FINALLY on the next bit of Fit For Pearls until I got the crushing wave of nothing-I-do-is-valued-by-society ennui, which is no fair. If I’m so thoroughly worthless I should at least be able to write some lesbian porn about it, but I was denied.

Honestly that’s the only thing I need, is enthusiasm for that; I gotta solve my actual real world problems on my own. but i would super not mind a reminder that I’ve come far too far with Ciri and Lu to only come this far.

Though if anyone’s got any good leads on part-time remote work I could to to make ends meet that’d be pretty keen.

#whining #about the author #yes i'll get over it i always do #but boy #real life sucks

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2xplusungood · 8 months

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Random unhinged undertale rambling

The design for Sans and Papyrus is very deliberate with the fact they are always smiling, and their expressiveness comes from the movement of their eye(socket)s. This is not only because they are skeletons, but its also important to note that, even at their lowest points, they both still have big goofy smiles on their face, conveying both Papyrus nature of never giving up hope in people and Sans’ continuing to “put on a happy face” even when faced with the monumental existential dread of knowing that anything that happens, good or bad, matters because of the way time works in the world of Undertale. This isn’t to say that they shouldn’t show emotion but ATTENTION NEEDS TO BE PAID TO HOW THEY SHOW THIS EMOTION IF YOU ARE TRYING TO BE TRUE TO THE CHARACTERS.

Secondly, what makes Sans such an interesting character is the fact that he has gone almost fully numb. He knows how helpless he is to actually change anything and has, for the most part, accepted it and instead of ruminating on it, he’s decided to have a bit of fun with it, and because if he acts friendly it might at least minimize the damage the human will do. He doesn’t even really seem to care all that much when Papyrus dies, unless you specifically PROVOKE him by killing ONLY papyrus at which point he will either call you out for being a Hypocrite or “Ah, you’re just an asshole then. At least you’re honest about it.” because once again, anything that happens GOOD OR BAD will be reset and doesn’t really matter.

Yes, he did make a promise with Toriel, and he outright tells you that if he didn’t do so, he would’ve killed you almost immediately. However, he WILL break this promise if the human threatens him directly. This implies one of two things: Either he is so bound to this promise to this person he barely knows that he will stand by as the human murders everyone he cares about, but no so much that he is willing to die because of it OR that the promise is more of a justification to himself to allow the human the freedom to make their own choices.

Now admittedly this is where I go a bit into my headcanon, but bear with me, I do have quite a bit of media analysis to back this up.

MY PERSONAL INTERPRETATION OF THE STORY is that the narrative is... Well the best way I can put this (hopefully) without sounding unhinged is that if you took the story, changed the names and setting while keeping the core themes, characters and events of the story, you could have a passable sort of sequel to Paradise Lost, namely the War in Heaven and christian mythos. STAY WITH ME PLEASE I KNOW THIS SOUNDS INSANE BUT HEAR ME OUT I BEG YOU I MUST SHARE THIS INSANITY WITH OTHERS PLEASE THIS IS JUST ME INTERPRETING THE SYMBOLISM AND DRAWING LITERARY PARALLELS NOT ME CLAIMING THAT UNDERTALE IS ACTUALLY A STORY ABOUT GOD AND THE DEVIL JUST THAT TOBY FOX MAY HAVE BEEN INSPIRED BY THE STORIES

I’m just saying that, in some twisted way, it could be a story of Lucifer returning to Heaven

1. What kicks it off the events of Undertale is a large scale war between the Humans and Monsters, and while the monsters are the ones banished, the end result is practically the same: Separation between monsters(Angel stand in) and humans (Demon stand in) Humans/Demons did BAD THING and now the two worlds have been separated

2. Im just gonna get this over with and say Asriel (Who’s name is based on Azrael, an angel) COULD be looked at as a stand in for Jesus, an envoy of the monsters who left the undergound with a message of peace and was killed because of it. This is admittedly the weakest point I have considering Azrael is the angel of death, and the whole thing with Chara muddying it up, but my brain gave me the idea of comparing the funny goat boy to jesus christ and I had to at least mention it

3. A common interpretation I tend to see is that the underground is “Hell” and in my opinion, this does not line up with the themes and imagery within Undertale. In Undertale, the humans are the aggressors, and while the monsters are willing to fight to defend themselves, they are almost always willing to make peace if given the right opportunity.

4. The Human is referred as to as being “Fallen” and the Prophecy of The Deltarune symbol describes him as an angel. Put these two facts together, the human is a Fallen Angel.

5. Toriel’s name is Toriel because shes acts as Tu-Toriel. This has nothing to do with anything except that when searching for the origin of her name, I found out that this STUPID pun has gone over my head for the last almost 8 years and now here it is for anyone else who’s missed it.

6. Taking what I said about Sans giving the human a chance to make their own decisions and running with it, Sans acts as the sort of “God” character. This sounded insane to me at first but then I realized you literally meet him in LIGHT BATHED CHURCH WHERE HE PASSES JUDGEMENT ON THE HUMAN and the whole game he acts as an almost omnipresent observer.

7. Now for the endings

Neutral: Reuniting Humans/Hell and Monsters/Heaven is deemed untenable at the current moment due to the actions (or lack of action) the human has taken, but both sides might walk away either a little bit wiser or with a renewed sense of division. Either way, the Underground is changed forever

Pacifist: The human has turned away from violence, even in the most difficult of scenarios. Asriel is reminded of the love they once shared with humans and the two sides become one again. The Lucifer-standin has clearly changed and is brought back into the fold

Genocide: “Lucifer” returns and enacts violence against everything, reigniting the War in Heaven but is now unstoppable. After killing both “God” and “Jesus” they are left with nothing except Chara. I disagree that Chara is the devil or satan, but instead is the personification of violence itself, fueled by ambition, to “gain power and defeat the enemy” which is what caused Lucifer to be cast out to begin with. They ask you/Lucifer if you’d like to finish what the two of you have started and if you have the gall to say no, they “gently” remind you that THEY have always been been in control: Lucifer’s ambition to wipe out Heaven and YOU, THE PLAYER’S ambition to “beat” the game to its fullest extent, even if it means going against the themes of the game, leaving Undertale to be cast aside and uninstalled to for the next game you to beat: “Erase this world and move onto the next”

#undertale #now that I've gotten this out of my head I can go back to being normal

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