Aeschylus, The Oresteia / Disco Elysium / Introduction to her translation of the Iliad by Emily Wilson / The Three Fates (detail), painting by Alexander Rothaug / Lives of the Saints by Charles Wright / The Lover by Marguerite Duras / / 6 ways to draw a circle by tumblr user filmnoirsbian / The Sweater by Gregory Orr / DOOMED TO REPEAT by Johnny Dombrowski / Revenge of the Sith (novelization) by Matthew Stover / "Goner" Google Result / Lake Mungo, dir. Joel Anderson / "Scriptum" from the Red Thread Series by Rima Day / War of the Foxes by Richard Siken / Prophetic perfect tense, Wikipedia / Text post by tumblr user monstermoviedean / October by Louise GlĂŒck / Planet of Love by Richard Siken / State of Siege by Mahmoud Darwish / Cycle of Doom, source unknown / Supernatural S05E04, The End / Road to Hell, Hadestown / Watchmen, Alan Moore / Wolf in White Van by John Darnielle
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[ID: Color photo of a pretty young brunette waitress with blue eyes. She is standing, looking at the camera, in a deep hypnotic trance and is staring blankly with her lips parted. This is a mind-control/hypnosis fetish image. The setting is a diner in New York City's Tribeca neighborhood. She is dressed in a white blouse and an apron. The camera angle is from a slightly low point of view as if the photographer was seated in a booth .The shot has shallow depth of field and is shot on a 35mm Nikon camera with FujiFilm film and film grain. The mood is sexy but tasteful. (Stable Diffusion XL prompt)]
"Are you unhappy with your service, Sir?" the restaurant owner asks in a gruff voice. This was a mom-and-pop operation, which I guess would make him Pop, and he was doubtless busy, hence his irritation at being called to my table. My waitress, a pretty brunette whose name tag read "Elizabeth," stood next to him, fidgeting with her order pad.
I dab at my mouth with a paper napkin. "No, the service was great, I just wanted to make a suggestion. If you aren't already doing so, you should pay your wait staff a living wage. And if you're skimming their tips, stop immediately and make restitution."
There's always a brief moment, maybe a split-second, where their brain has heard the words⊠but hasn't processed how to comply. I'm always worried it's not going to work when I see that confused, sometimes angry, glance, but then it fades into a glassy-eyed stare and an open mouth. Like clockwork.
"Yeah, sure," he says, his voice distant and his free will in another zip code.
"Great. Only one more thing before I let you get back to it, lunch is on the house today, right?"
"Yeah. On the house," he drones, before blinking and heading back to the kitchen.
Elizabeth picks up my utensils and plate with a practiced ease. "Anything else I can get for you today, Sir?"
I lean in, just a little, and lower my voice. "It's Doug. You are⊠Elizabeth�"
A warm smile. "Liz. Just Liz."
"Liz. You'd like to have dinner tonight with me tonight. Write down your number and I'll text you my address. You can bring some foodâyou pickâafter your shift, and we'll fuck a couple of times. You'll cum easily and often, and it will be the best sex you've ever had, because you think I'm good-looking and funny."
I look into Liz's gorgeous blue eyes, like tiny wells, blue but deep. I look deeper and deeper, until the light from the diner and the world isn't visible, just darkness. It's like looking directly into her mind and just moving things around a bit, like moving a houseplant into the sill of an open window.
Liz puts the plate down, and pulls a pen from her apron. She scribbles her number onto my check, which I don't have to pay anyway, and hands it to me with a flirty wink. "See you at six. Doug," she says suggestively, turning and sashaying her big ass intentionally as she walks away.
Sliding out of the booth, I put on my coat. I slide a ten under the sugar packet caddy, confident Liz and her co-workers would get their fair share of it, as I walk out into the chilly city streets.
People think being able to control minds at will would be glamorous or sexy. But it fucking sucks, if you ask me.
I don't know how long I've had this powerâit just sort of happened one day. Up until then, I'd lived a pretty charmed life, and I thought that was just dumb luck. Now⊠I'm pretty sure that's not true.
There are a couple rules I learned from trial and error. I don't have to be looking at a person (but it helps), and I do have to be relatively close to them. I can't undo a previous command. And the effects are permanent.
It definitely has its perks, don't get me wrong. I get a lot of stuff comped, like that soup and sandwich, and a lot of pretty women like Liz have sex with me whenever I want. If you think that's neat, it's small potatoes. I'm a writer by trade, but I have millions in the bank. How did it get there? Well, when you live in New York City and have access to the minds of politicians, bankers, and CEOs, the world is your oyster. I've had crazy, wild sex with the world's most beautiful women, sometimes simultaneously. I've thrown out first pitch at Yankee Stadium. I've been the equivalent of white, pudgy Jay-Z.
I wave to a retired teacher I pass once in a while. "Hey Mrs. Garcia! ÂżCĂłmo estĂĄs? That's a very pretty hairstyle. You feel confident and beautiful and people who tell you otherwise are wrong." She looks at me blankly before her face lights up in a proud smile.
Anyway, it's isolating. No one will ever understand what it's like to be me, and all my relationships fall into two categories: people I can't trust because I've already mind controlled them, and people I haven't mind controlled yet. I've surrounded myself with yes men before, and that's an empty and unfulfilling life. I also can't trust myself to make new friends or partners and not accidentally, innocuously, alter them. A little slip up like "I think you should wear that dress" and they'll be a different person, forever. And there's always the risk of breakage.
Let me explain. No, wait.
"Hey," I call out to some asshole manhandling his lady friend on the street. "Don't be a dick to women." And to his girlfriend: "If he treats you bad, leave him. If he hits you, you cut his dick off."
OK, now where was I? So here's an example: I naively, stupidly, made a woman fall in love with me. Sounds great! Until you realize what you wanted is someone to love you for you. So I'll just undo it. Nope, doesn't work that way. That woman will be in therapy for years, and it's my fault.
Plus, when you tell a corrupt CEO to come clean to the press, and he tells a reporter about all his trips to Epstein Island⊠Lemme just say that crashing the world's financial markets will make you take it down a notch.
I learned over time: don't rock the foundation of the world to its core, don't upset the balance of the universe. I like to call them nudges. Just a little suggestion here and there. Some harder than others, but never a push, just a nudge.
Ah, back home. Another fruitless day of ennui for the most powerful man in New York. I throw my keys on the counter and hang my coat on the back of a chair. I flip the TV on and plop onto the couch and sigh.
News, news, sports, infomercial, talk showâŠoh. Men in Black is on. I've always wanted to see this. I watch while I scroll my phone. It's pretty funny, though it feels like something else I've watched before. Tommy Lee Jones is funnier than I thought. Oh, that's interesting. Huh. Will Smith makes Agent K forget he was Agent K. Then he lives a normal life. Could I do that?? Could I live a normal life?
I rise slowly and think this through. I don't even know if it will work. Nothing could happen, or I could turn my brain into a turnip. I'd ask myself: if I didn't have this power, how did I get rich? I mean, I used to think it was just luck. I can tell myself to think that. Excited, I walk over to the bathroom vanity.
Well, I thought, taking a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
"You will forget you can control minds. You will just assume your fortune to this point is the product of charm and good luck."
I stare at the reflection in the mirror, and it stares back at me. And I feel kind of funny, like my brain was a muscle that had fallen asleep, and blood was rushing back into it. Tingly.
Liz, the waitress from the coffee shop on Broadway, is wearing one of my t-shirts and looking at my bookshelf. I guess she liked me more than I thought, she practically threw herself at me when I opened the door. Helluva first date, I thought, as I microwaved the food she brought.
Liz reads off some of the titles. "Total Recall, Men in Black, The Matrix, MementoâŠ" She pulls a DVD box off the shelf. "Oh, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind! I haven't seen this in years, it's such a good movie."
I shrug as I plate the food. "I've never seen it, I don't even remember buying it."
"Really? The case is pretty worn. Maybe you got it used."
I furrow my brow. Come to think of it, I don't remember seeing any of those movies. I must have got a good deal.
I pull out at chair for her, then stick my head in the fridge. "Maybe. What would you like to drink? I have Diet Coke, uhh⊠Diet Coke. And water."
Liz smiles, "Water is fine, I don't like fizzy drinks."
"That's too bad. Because I do have some syrups and club soda, so I could make an Italian soda. I think you would like an Italian soda if you've never had one."
I hear the sound of a fork hitting the china plate, and I turn. Liz's full lips part slightly. Her big blue eyes go glassy, her breath hitching before she exhales, long and slow. My Wu-Tang tee slips off one bare shoulder as she slackens and sinks, her expression melting like warm butter.
"I like Italian soda," she drones in a monotone voice.
This image is AI generated, I couldn't find a royalty-free source photo I liked. Don't like AI? Cross-posted to @ottopilot-wrote-this-txt without it.
"Are you unhappy with your service, Sir?" the restaurant owner asks in a gruff voice. This was a mom-and-pop operation, which I guess would make him Pop, and he was doubtless busy, hence his irritation at being called to my table. My waitress, a pretty brunette whose name tag read "Elizabeth," stood next to him, fidgeting with her order pad.
I dab at my mouth with a paper napkin. "No, the service was great, I just wanted to make a suggestion. If you aren't already doing so, you should pay your wait staff a living wage. And if you're skimming their tips, stop immediately and make restitution."
There's always a brief moment, maybe a split-second, where their brain has heard the words⊠but hasn't processed how to comply. I'm always worried it's not going to work when I see that confused, sometimes angry, glance, but then it fades into a glassy-eyed stare and an open mouth. Like clockwork.
"Yeah, sure," he says, his voice distant and his free will in another zip code.
"Great. Only one more thing before I let you get back to it, lunch is on the house today, right?"
"Yeah. On the house," he drones, before blinking and heading back to the kitchen.
Elizabeth picks up my utensils and plate with a practiced ease. "Anything else I can get for you today, Sir?"
I lean in, just a little, and lower my voice. "It's Doug. You are⊠Elizabeth�"
A warm smile. "Liz. Just Liz."
"Liz. You'd like to have dinner tonight with me tonight. Write down your number and I'll text you my address. You can bring some foodâyou pickâafter your shift, and we'll fuck a couple of times. You'll cum easily and often, and it will be the best sex you've ever had, because you think I'm good-looking and funny."
I look into Liz's gorgeous blue eyes, like tiny wells, blue but deep. I look deeper and deeper, until the light from the diner and the world isn't visible, just darkness. It's like looking directly into her mind and just moving things around a bit, like moving a houseplant into the sill of an open window.
Liz puts the plate down, and pulls a pen from her apron. She scribbles her number onto my check, which I don't have to pay anyway, and hands it to me with a flirty wink. "See you at six. Doug," she says suggestively, turning and sashaying her big ass intentionally as she walks away.
Sliding out of the booth, I put on my coat. I slide a ten under the sugar packet caddy, confident Liz and her co-workers would get their fair share of it, as I walk out into the chilly city streets.
People think being able to control minds at will would be glamorous or sexy. But it fucking sucks, if you ask me.
I don't know how long I've had this powerâit just sort of happened one day. Up until then, I'd lived a pretty charmed life, and I thought that was just dumb luck. Now⊠I'm pretty sure that's not true.
There are a couple rules I learned from trial and error. I don't have to be looking at a person (but it helps), and I do have to be relatively close to them. I can't undo a previous command. And the effects are permanent.
It definitely has its perks, don't get me wrong. I get a lot of stuff comped, like that soup and sandwich, and a lot of pretty women like Liz have sex with me whenever I want. If you think that's neat, it's small potatoes. I'm a writer by trade, but I have millions in the bank. How did it get there? Well, when you live in New York City and have access to the minds of politicians, bankers, and CEOs, the world is your oyster. I've had crazy, wild sex with the world's most beautiful women, sometimes simultaneously. I've thrown out first pitch at Yankee Stadium. I've been the equivalent of white, pudgy Jay-Z.
I wave to a retired teacher I pass once in a while. "Hey Mrs. Garcia! ÂżCĂłmo estĂĄs? That's a very pretty hairstyle. You feel confident and beautiful and people who tell you otherwise are wrong." She looks at me blankly before her face lights up in a proud smile.
Anyway, it's isolating. No one will ever understand what it's like to be me, and all my relationships fall into two categories: people I can't trust because I've already mind controlled them, and people I haven't mind controlled yet. I've surrounded myself with yes men before, and that's an empty and unfulfilling life. I also can't trust myself to make new friends or partners and not accidentally, innocuously, alter them. A little slip up like "I think you should wear that dress" and they'll be a different person, forever. And there's always the risk of breakage.
Let me explain. No, wait.
"Hey," I call out to some asshole manhandling his lady friend on the street. "Don't be a dick to women." And to his girlfriend: "If he treats you bad, leave him. If he hits you, you cut his dick off."
OK, now where was I? So here's an example: I naively, stupidly, made a woman fall in love with me. Sounds great! Until you realize what you wanted is someone to love you for you. So I'll just undo it. Nope, doesn't work that way. That woman will be in therapy for years, and it's my fault.
Plus, when you tell a corrupt CEO to come clean to the press, and he tells a reporter about all his trips to Epstein Island⊠Lemme just say that crashing the world's financial markets will make you take it down a notch.
I learned over time: don't rock the foundation of the world to its core, don't upset the balance of the universe. I like to call them nudges. Just a little suggestion here and there. Some harder than others, but never a push, just a nudge.
Ah, back home. Another fruitless day of ennui for the most powerful man in New York. I throw my keys on the counter and hang my coat on the back of a chair. I flip the TV on and plop onto the couch and sigh.
News, news, sports, infomercial, talk showâŠoh. Men in Black is on. I've always wanted to see this. I watch while I scroll my phone. It's pretty funny, though it feels like something else I've watched before. Tommy Lee Jones is funnier than I thought. Oh, that's interesting. Huh. Will Smith makes Agent K forget he was Agent K. Then he lives a normal life. Could I do that?? Could I live a normal life?
I rise slowly and think this through. I don't even know if it will work. Nothing could happen, or I could turn my brain into a turnip. I'd ask myself: if I didn't have this power, how did I get rich? I mean, I used to think it was just luck. I can tell myself to think that. Excited, I walk over to the bathroom vanity.
Well, I thought, taking a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
"You will forget you can control minds. You will just assume your fortune to this point is the product of charm and good luck."
I stare at the reflection in the mirror, and it stares back at me. And I feel kind of funny, like my brain was a muscle that had fallen asleep, and blood was rushing back into it. Tingly.
Liz, the waitress from the coffee shop on Broadway, is wearing one of my t-shirts and looking at my bookshelf. I guess she liked me more than I thought, she practically threw herself at me when I opened the door. Helluva first date, I thought, as I microwaved the food she brought.
Liz reads off some of the titles. "Total Recall, Men in Black, The Matrix, MementoâŠ" She pulls a DVD box off the shelf. "Oh, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind! I haven't seen this in years, it's such a good movie."
I shrug as I plate the food. "I've never seen it, I don't even remember buying it."
"Really? The case is pretty worn. Maybe you got it used."
I furrow my brow. Come to think of it, I don't remember seeing any of those movies. I must have got a good deal.
I pull out at chair for her, then stick my head in the fridge. "Maybe. What would you like to drink? I have Diet Coke, uhh⊠Diet Coke. And water."
Liz smiles, "Water is fine, I don't like fizzy drinks."
"That's too bad. Because I do have some syrups and club soda, so I could make an Italian soda. I think you would like an Italian soda if you've never had one."
I hear the sound of a fork hitting the china plate, and I turn. Liz's full lips part slightly. Her big blue eyes go glassy, her breath hitching before she exhales, long and slow. My Wu-Tang tee slips off one bare shoulder as she slackens and sinks, her expression melting like warm butter.
"I like Italian soda," she drones in a monotone voice.
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Summary:Â I always wondered what happened when Sirius fell, those Ancient Egyptians watching his star fall from the sky, watching that brightness plummet to his demise, falling farther and farther from our world into another.
Sirius falling⊠falling⊠fallingâŠ
How could they bear it? How can I?
The same story set decades apart, separated by a curtain of love and loss. Maybe this time around our ending will be different.
Rating, Word Count: M, 4644 words
Pairings: James Sirius Potter/ Teddy Lupin, Remus Lupin/Sirius Black
Tags/Warnings:Â Falling in Love, Angst with a Happy Ending, Veil of Death, Circular Narrative, Ancient Egyptian Mythology, Canonical Character Death, Werewolf Teddy Lupin, Auror James Sirius Potter, Twelve Grimmauld Place
Check out Sirius Rising now on AO3! If you enjoyed this work, please leave the creator some love and consider sharing this post!
Posting will continue through July 6th, with creator reveals on July 15th!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Just sitting here in bed at nearly midnight thinking about how the brothers were these perfect vessels for actual archangels. That Chuck had orchestrated a ton of nonsense so that Heaven and Hell would start wars and jumpstart an apocalypse. He pitted brothers against brothers in some fucked up cosmic boxing match to the death, all for his own enjoyment.
Fast forward to today and now the brothers are teaming up with those same archangels to take out the puppet master, most likely Swan Song style. This time itâll be Amara taking control and throwing herself and her brother into the cage.
They will lock up their tormenter, the author who loved to manipulate the pieces on the board, play mind games, and torture them.
Poetic justice. But also... coming full circle.
Fucking Dabb, yâall, and his circular narrative. And there will be more. Prepare for meta madness these next two episodes.
*I donât actually know whatâs going to happen and could be completely wrong. In that case, free fic fodder, fanfic authors. Have at it. đ
Does Clarke actually have any friends? Apart from Bellamy I mean. I havenât seen her really treat anyone like a friend other than Bell or anyone treat her like a friend other than Bellamy. Actually Murphy has...which is oddly funny to me đ I love him. Got distracted, sorry. So is it that we are to assume friendship since it isnât the focus of the show? Or are we using the term friend loosely since it describes a group of people you kill others with more easily? Lol, friend is a big word I guess
She did in season 1. Monty, Jasper, Octavia, Raven, Octavia.
Ever since MW, all her relationships have been rough, and when she tried to reconnect with them, she had trouble.
Except for, youâre right. Murphy. She became friends with him later, and I think itâs because they were both outsiders, him because he was an outcast and her because she running away. She couldnât face them, what sheâd done.Â
Friendship IS the point of the show. This show is about LOVE, all the ways people love each other and how their love for each other makes them stonger and enables them to do impossible things.
Thatâs why when I first came to fandom and I heard JR saying that âthis show isnât about loveâ I said, you are a liar JR. This show only happened because of love. Because Abby sent 100 kids to earth to save Clarke, because she loved her so much. Thatâs how Bellamy got there, too, for love of Octavia and what heâd do for her. He was trying to tell us that it wasnât a romance genre show about love, which it isnât. Getting together isnât the âgoal.â Except it most definitely IS about love.
Parental love, sibling love, mentor-mentee love, and most definitely friendship love.
Mount Weather broke Clarke, and it broke all her relationships, Bellarke, the delinquents, even her mom. And she has never been able to get them back since then. The only one she could hold onto was her relationship with Bellamy, she never could get her relationships back with Raven or Octavia or Monty or Jasper. A little with Murphy, because theyâre both cockroaches and loners. They believed in her, but their friendships were divided by everything she had done and hadnât done and how she left them.
Actually, if we get a replay of the trauma of Mount Weather with Sanctum, I am going to be really happy, because that is the trauma that broke not only the bellarke romance but also Clarkeâs bond with her friends. So if we get the replay, that means we get to FIX her friendships AND her romance.Â
And in the trailer, we got MULTIPLE references to Mount Weather, so how happy am I?
Hi! I only recently managed to watch the finale (darn real life commitments getting in the way) but can I ask what about it was so meta? I think dabb said that this finale was the most meta, but I guess I'm a bit slow on the uptake because I don't think I got it?
Hi!Â
If you check out my tag #spn 12x23 meta you should find it all there.
13x01 is set up to be 1x01 but in REVERSE. They are entering endgame by subverting the pilot and I am SO HERE for this!
As âAll along the Watchtowerâ suggests (the song that ends back at the beginning), we have:
- Mary and John reversal. John is dead, Mary is missing, they want to find Mary: FINDING MISSION.
- Cas = Jess. Dean is Sam and Sam is Dean, theyâre reversed. Hence this scene:
- Dean and Sam hunting alone, but now Dean is put in Samâs place and Sam in Deanâs: reversal of roles in their brotherly relationship, also now Dean is no longer Samâs parent this will also make a difference in how they interact.
- Revenge mission, just rather than on Azazel, on Lucifer
13x01 is set up to be 1x01 but in REVERSE.
Which also is another bow to the string of setting it up for the positive ending rather than the tragic ending that it was originally supposed to have and was metaphorically addressed in 12x22 with the grenade launcher blowing apart the âblaze of gloryâ ending.
- That they will find Mary and she hopefully wonât have to sacrifice herself for her son, or if she does it will be Sam (as John did for Dean) and she will go to Heaven.Â
- That Dean will get Cas back as it is so clearly framed as romantic now Iâm not going to apologise for âshippingâ this (is it even shipping when itâs canon?), it is canonically romantic and stuff like this just makes it more obvious. So anyway, Dean will get Cas back as a reversal of Sam and Jessâ tragic story.Â
- That they will find a way to defeat Lucifer that also closes the gates of Hell because it was by defeating Azazel that they opened them in the first place. Or perhaps they just end up doing it around the same time but heck, if Crowleyâs death didnât suggest that the two are supposed to be linked.
Iâve talked a lot and so have all the other meta writers about all the parallels and the circular narrative of the season, how Dabb loves to subvert the past and use mirrors and parallels etc.Â
Here we are talking about the fundamental underlying themes of the show, the PREMISE being reversed and I am PSYCHED as this is going to be amazing and absolutely makes sense going into endgame!
I think we should all watch season 1 before season 13 airs.
OK scratch that, according to posts last night from @mittensmorgul and @elizabethrobertajones we should DEFINITELY all go and watch season 1 before season 13 starts!!!
If Dean says âweâve got work to doâ Iâll scream ;)
