I am NOT OOP, OOP is u/bomblebeeee
Originally posted to relationship_advice + TrueOffMyChest
My (28f) fiance (30m) is ghosting me on our wedding day. How can I calm my anxiety?
Thanks to u/queenlegolas and u/Direct-Caterpillar77 for suggesting this BoRU
Trigger Warnings: abandonment, mentions of mental health issues, emotional abuse and manipulation
My (28f) fiancé (30m) is ghosting me on our wedding day. How can I calm my anxiety?: May 1, 2024
TLDR at the bottom.
(28f) am getting married today to my fiance (30m). It's the legal document signing and our ceremony is on Saturday. I haven't slept in 24 hours I just am feeling so much anxiety.
For reference we were togetheliving together for about 3 years before becoming long distance for one and a half years. I'm back in the country for a week to visit him and family and to have our wedding.
For the last month he has been ghosting me for sometimes even weeks at a time. I know it's because he's going through a mental health crisis, but no matter how much I tell him his actions are causing me pain and straining our communication, he can't change. When he goes through rough times he absolutely shuts down for everyone, especially me. It hurts so much every time knowing that even the person he says is his best friend and future wife, he doesn't trust or respect enough to share or ease his pain.
I thought coming back to the country and the marriage would wake him up from his ghosting tendencies this past month, but it's not. He had a very important meeting at work yesterday that either meant he'd get a raise or be unemployed, and now I don't hear anything from him at all. He's ignoring my calls, he's ignoring my texts (and there are read receipts so I know it's intentionally ignored). It's the morning of, and we are literally set to sign our marriage paperwork in a few hours from now. But I was up all night because I can't shake the anxiety that this isn't what he wants. That hes just doing this to "appease" me despite this being a joint decision.
I still can't even get a hold or reach him. I try so hard to communicate everything with him, but this hurts me deeply, down to my core. Part of me wants to drive over to his apartment and beat his door down and just demand answers as to how he could treat someone he claims he loves this way. But I know he'd just shut down further, say he's sorry, and then bury himself deeper into his guilt and depression.
How can I be supportive through his mental health crisis while also keeping firm on the "this is 500000% some disrespectful and harmful behavior that is absolutely unacceptable" in my opinion. When we were about to be long distance he begged me to try it out because I knew his inability to properly communicate his feelings would be miserable over long distance. But he begged me and promised he would change. I would say he did improve but if this last month has shown me anything it's that I'm about to marry someone who has no qualms and sees no consequence in ghosting your spouse for weeks at a time.
This whole thing gives me so much anxiety I have no idea what to do. Any advice on how to calm my anxiety or maybe try to be more supportive to coax him out of the horrid way his depressive episode is manifesting would be greatly appreciated.
Before I forget, yes of course I've tried to get him to see a therapist or get on medication. For years. There is basically a 0% chance that, if it's coming from me or anyone in my family, he would ever listen to that advice. It's incredibly frustrating and not an option that I can even bring up with him anymore without the conversation devolving and him shutting me out even further.
(I will not be tolerating or responding to any accusations of him cheating or people just saying don't marry him. He is loyal but has a multitude of mental health issues, and I will marry him regardless of what anyone says on the internet. I just want some advice is all.)
TLDR: My fiance keeps ghosting me for weeks at a time and he's doing it again even on the day we are getting married which is causing me insane anxiety.
Edit: I won't be reading anything anymore, and please stop messaging me. If you see a woman who is genuinely struggling with something and clearly has no one else to turn to for advice other than random people on the internet and your response is to ridicule her and call her an idiot.... Then congratulations my last idea of seeking help has failed. Clearly I had no one else to go to, it's my wedding day and I'm on reddit. I don't know why I expected anything less than hate messages and ridicule. Maybe there isn't some magic way to help him through this period of grief, but I didn't think I deserved to be sent all these cruel messages so instantly. To the people messaging me and calling stupid, idiotic, doormat, and that I deserve whatever unhappy life awaits me, you've won.
Relevant Comments
Icy-Original: He’s been ghosting you for the last month and you thought marriage would fix this? You don’t want anyone here to tell you not to marry him when that’s the most logical and smart decision here. You’ve created your own misery and are determined to continue doing so so what do you want from us? We can’t make him unghost you and we can’t make you feel better about this decision you know is dumb as hell. You have a man with mental health problems that refuses to get help, that’s causing severe relationship issues and you’re willingly signing yourself up, aligning yourself legally to have more of these problems till death do you part? When you have kids and he ghost you then what are you going to do? I hope you get what you deserve from this situation. Whatever that entails.

OOP: This marriage has been planned for much longer than just the last month. It wasn't some solution I created by myself. And it isn't no contact for the whole month. Just a week of no contact before he comes back and apologizes for the absence due to unavoidable life events. Then contact for a week before another week of no contact before something else comes up. We spent the whole day together 3 days ago, but because of the meeting yesterday it's now been a day and a half of nothing again. To answer your question of what I'd like, compassion and actual helpful advice was what I was searching for. Not judgement and malice.

 
I was left at the altar yesterday: May 2, 2024
My life was great. My relationship was great. Until yesterday it suddenly wasn't. The last month felt a bit off but I didn't think it would lead to this. I still love him intensely. He still loves me intensely. He wants to stay with me it's just that he says he can't do marriage because he can't untie the trauma he has from the idea of it from his childhood (cult stuff).
My mom says I'll be a pathetic fucking loser if I still stay with him regardless and that he'll never be a part of the family. But I want to stay with him regardless. But I don't know if I can live with the constant fear, anxiety, and insecurites that will come from being with someone who can just leave whenever he feels like it.
My wedding is on Saturday and my family still wants to have it since it's more of a small family gathering already anyways (since his family wasn't invited due to cult stuff). My life as I know it feels completely over. I don't know what to do. The person I turned to for empathy and compassion turned to me screaming that I'm a fucking idiot. I'm only in the country for my wedding, I live abroad. My new job and my fiancee pressured me and reassured me I should already use my new married name professionally. I'm a teacher and all my kids already know me as his name.
Everything sucks and I can't stop sobbing.
Edit: to clarify. He left me while we were about to sign the marriage certificate. It's a symbolic left at the altar since there was never going to be an actual altar anyway.
Update: I told my mom that the way she phrased her advice/opinion was cruel. She told me she's tired of my drama and doesn't need it in her old age. I already had told her she was right and I knew what she said was right, but just that the way she said it was cruel. She said she no longer cares about maintaining a relationship with me and that it isn't worth the drama at her age. I apologized because she's right. I'm a piece of shit who never saw that this situation hurt and humiliated her too. I wanted to just have this be a nice party with friends and just spend time together. I'm going to try my best to keep my negativity inside so it doesn't spoil the mood and maybe there's a hope to salvage it as a good party. But I think once I return abroad that this will be the last time my mom will ever speak to me again. I don't know how I could repay her for all she spent on this wedding, but hopefully removing myself from her life will maybe make her life more peaceful and less stressful, even if it destroys me.
As for him, thank you all so much for your kindness, advice, and perspectives. It truly makes me feel better to read the comments even if they hurt and I deserve it. We will be talking about it tomorrow in person, and I've scheduled an emergency therapy appointment for myself for tomorrow morning. Ive never done therapy before, and I'm scared, but I know it's what I need. I'm so angry at him for ruining my entire life that I don't know if the love I have can salvage this.
Relevant Comments
Geezell: No, hon. You can’t be with someone who cannot effectively communicate their fears and needs and, instead, choose to run. He failed you. He does not get to treat you like that. You deserve better. Your Mom may have let her anger for you make her word things poorly but she is right….that dude does not get to have his cake and eat it too.
Go back home. Go no contact with him. Finish out the teaching contract as it. Then, my recommendation is to find a teaching job in a dream location. Maybe, be a traveling teacher for a few years. Heal. Live big. And, if you wish, find love again.

OOP: I am a travelling teacher already. I'm home right now just for the week so that I could do my wedding. Back to where I live abroad next week to live a life of isolation and loneliness.

thunderchaud: Please elaborate on cult stuff, that could literally be anything

OOP: He's seen marriage used as a way to entrap and oppress women due to the cult culture of his family. He doesn't understand that what he's done is created a tilted power dynamic where he's holding all the power and autonomy and I'm the scared, anxiety riddled one terrified he'll leave at any moment in any possible future we may have now. Which is honestly worse in my opinion.

detikripur: So many questions but at the top of my head is these: why did he agree to “marry” you? Why were you using a name that wasn’t yours for so long that your students know you by that name? Haven’t you talked beforehand with him? Was this relationship one sided?

OOP: He asked me to marry him. My job told me to start using his name because the school year started in April and I would be changing my name in May. I said no it felt like I'd jinx it. I called him and he said stop being such an over thinker and just use my name. I talked with him, he reassured me. It's been 3 weeks that my kids know me as that name. And to be honest yes it does feel one sided. But not in the way you're implying.

 
Update: I was left at the altar yesterday: May 8, 2024
For a brief recap, I was going to the officiant to sign my marriage license with my fiance (who I'd been with for 4 years). He chickened out and said he couldn't marry me and ruptured my image of us. TLDR at bottom.
On to the update. Since I was so brutally humiliated, it really made me think back on all the not great parts of us. He was always very gaslighty whenever I'd claim his actions reflected the opposite of his words (I respect you, I care for you). So I ended up talking to him. I asked him to define what his definition of loving someone, respecting someone, caring for someone, and trusting someone means. Needless to say they were twisted and not healthy at all. I tried to make him see that and he had a few moments of holy shit I think you're right, I don't actually trust or respect you.
Now just because he admitted it didn't mean the crazy selfish actions didn't continue throughout the entirety of the conversation. It was so crazy how I'd never been able to articulate it in a way to where he actually understood before. He actually had the gall to say "Wow we should have had this conversation a long time ago" because of how much he was realizing he was treating me like trash then gaslighting me about it. I was like bitch I've been trying to tell you this for years but you never respected me enough to listen and I was always too emotional to articulate it properly.
Anyways, he wanted to do marriage counseling with the intent to marry at the end. I told him I'd rather break up because the power dynamic is too shifted and I don't feel like it's salvageable. With how he was listening to me and finally acknowledging and understanding me and his own actions I was hopeful for maybe a friendship one day in the distant future. But after a teary, bittersweet goodbye, he absolutely ruined it with yet another selfish action right at the last moment.
I didn't want to be touched or do physical affection for multiple reasons. One of the main reasons being he uses it for comfort when he's feeling sorry for himself. I had just spent 3 hours explaining how he never thinks of me in any of his actions, and maybe it's cruel of me to keep that last kiss or whatever, but it felt selfish and manipulative to me. So after an actually heartfelt goodbye and promise to be better people in the future, we part ways. Only for him to run back to me to try and do some romantic swoop in and kiss me. I recoiled really fast and honestly just stared at him incredulously. Like he had just ignored everything I had just said. That was the moment I went from sadness and grief from losing something so important to me, to just numb and angry about it.
I haven't cried since, I don't even feel sad when I think about him because all I can think about is how angry the whole thing makes me feel. I'm 28 and feel like I wasted my good years on someone who had zero regard for me in any capacity. I developed so many new insecurities, confidence issues, and trauma from 4 years with him and now I have to navigate the dating pool again with all of that (in a foreign country no less!)
TLDR: I broke up with him and I'm just angry now.
Relevant/Top Comments
Libra_8118: How are you and your mom doing? It sounds like you left your home and family for him. Are you thinking of coming back home?

OOP: Both my family and him are in America. I left for me, my dreams, and career. I'm actually thankful that I can go back abroad to be away from him and honestly I need some time away from my mom as well.

Forward-Cockroach945: Bravo I'm so proud of you for finally ending it with him. It's likely he only "understands" you now as a form of gaslighting and trying to placate you . I know it hurts now but with time you will heal and be stronger. Don't worry about dating right now, worry about loving yourself and nurturing yourself. Give yourself all the love support and understanding you normally gave to him. You deserve it. I hope your therapy visits go well and help you build up your self worth and bullshit detector. I'm so glad to hear you took the right steps towards a healthier happier life
 

DO NOT COMMENT IN LINKED POSTS OR MESSAGE OOPs – BoRU Rule #7

THIS IS A REPOST SUB - I AM NOT OOP

Each year, the Met Gala dazzles the world with its extravagant display of fashion and celebrity culture, but this year's event stirred up more than just admiration. As Hollywood's elite graced the red carpet, dozens of pro-Palestinian protesters gathered outside, urging attendees to acknowledge the ongoing conflict in Gaza. Now, the fallout from the event has spilled over onto social media, with users leveraging digital campaigns to hold celebrities accountable for their silence on pressing issues.
Why the Outrage?
While the Met Gala is typically celebrated for its stunning fashion statements, this year's event drew criticism for its ostentatious display of wealth amidst the backdrop of the Israeli war in Gaza. Social media platforms buzzed with commentary, with many users expressing their discontent over the disconnect between the glamorous affair and the grim realities of the world.
In the aftermath of the Met Gala, digital campaigns gained traction, urging users to boycott celebrities on social media platforms. Marcus Collins, an assistant professor of marketing at the University of Michigan, noted the significance of the event in sparking these campaigns, citing the juxtaposition between the gala and the conflict in Gaza as a catalyst for social mobilization.

Blockout2024 Movement

One prominent campaign to emerge from the backlash is #Blockout2024, spearheaded by TikToker @BlockOut2024. In a viral video, he called on users to block celebrities on social media, effectively cutting off their revenue streams from ad engagement. The movement gained momentum as users shared their own lists of blocked celebrities using hashtags such as #blockout, #digitine, and #celebrityblock.
Marie Antoinette and the Digital Guillotine Another viral moment that fueled the backlash occurred when TikToker Haley Kalil posted a video using the infamous phrase "Let them eat cake," attributed to Marie Antoinette. Dubbed the "digitize" by TikToker @LadyFromTheOutside, this digital guillotine symbolizes a call to action to block celebrities and influencers who fail to leverage their platforms for social good.
Who's on the Chopping Block?
Social media users have targeted a wide range of celebrities, including household names like Harry Styles, Jojo Siwa, Ellen DeGeneres, and Kylie Jenner. The campaign continues to evolve as users share their decisions to block specific stars daily.
Impact on Celebrities While the full extent of the backlash remains to be seen, celebrities have reportedly experienced a significant loss in followers as a result of the #Blockout2024 movement. Although the immediate impact on their online presence is unclear, the campaign has raised awareness about the power of social media users to hold influencers and celebrities accountable for their actions—or lack thereof.
As social media continues to shape public discourse and influence cultural narratives, the Met Gala controversy serves as a reminder of the platform's potential to amplify voices and catalyze meaningful change. Whether this digital activism translates into tangible consequences for celebrities remains to be seen, but one thing is certain: the era of passive consumption is giving way to a new age of social accountability.
For Socialode, our goal is not for users to listen to celebrities, but to find friends. Users shouldn't idolize a person based on their wealth or fame. Everyone should find people who like them for them and not what the world sees them as.
Every person is unique. Every person is different.
Socialode's job is to find "Real" friends for you, so you can just be you.

Detective Pierce and his colleague Morrison walked down the dark hall to the interrogation room where Seminarian Crawford Rossi awaited them.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Crawford Rossi." Pierce greeted as he walked inside taking a seat.

Rossi cradled a foam coffee cup in his hands looking up at them with dark circles under his eyes "Good evening." he mumbled.

"I want to talk to you about what happened to Father Pesci." Pierce began opening a case file he brought with him.

"Father Pesci..." Rossi spoke softly keeping his head down before looking at both detectives "He wasn't a bad man."

Morrison nods in understanding “We just need to hear your side of the story.”

Rossi’s shoulders went lax, and he leaned back looking up at the dim light hanging above them.

“It was the day before Easter Sunday. We were setting things up and there was this weird box among the decorations.” he began rubbing his hands together and looked back at the detectives.

“A weird box?” Pierce questioned.

Rossi nods “I know it seems strange but…” he paused biting his bottom lip “This box didn’t belong to the church. When I took it to Father Pesci, he said it was probably donated by someone.”

Morrison nodded and jotted down notes in his notepad “What did this box look like?”

The Seminarian began describing to them the box he had found. It was a medium ornate box the baby blue and white polka dot wrapping paper was weathered as if it had been left in the sun all day. The white ribbon was frayed and splotched with tiny specks of red. The box felt so heavy in his hands.

“Did you ever open this box?” Pierce asked.

Rossi shook his head “N-no it felt wrong.”

“So, an old gift felt wrong to you?” Morrison scoffed shaking his head.

“Since it was unopened” Rossi wrung his hands together “I put it in Father Pesci’s office that morning and by the evening it was open” the Seminarian paused looking up at the detectives.

“What of Father Pesci?” Pierce questioned “What did he find inside that box?”

Rossi sat back in his chair rubbing his hands onto his pants “He was in the corner of his office mumbling to himself and the box…” he took a deep breath and exhaled “Oozed a brownish red onto his desk.”

During the service that evening Father Pesci will have murdered an entire congregation. Their heads placed onto their laps and hands wired together in prayer. Pesci himself disappeared after leaving symbols written in blood all over the walls behind the podium. The gift box was missing and nowhere to be found along with one of the hearses.

“I’m sure the entire event has been quite traumatic for you. Since you were the one to find the service in such a grim state” said Pierce giving Rossi a knowing smile trying to give the man some comfort.

“Detectives” the Seminarian began licking his lips “Will you be able to find the father before he hurts more people?” he leaned forward looking them both in the eyes.

“Of course we’ll find him.” Morrison was confident.

Pierce wanted to relay the same energy but according to the reports they had gotten back the hearse that Father Pesci had taken was found abandoned in the next town. Which means from there the possessed Pesci walked the rest of the way to his destination.

He did however have an idea where the Father was heading. There was an older case where a clown was attending a child’s birthday party. Or what was supposed to be. When the professional entertainer got to the house he was greeted by a cult. This cult did unspeakable things to this man using him in a ritual for whatever god they worshipped. Then placed his head into the very box that he had brought the birthday cake in.

A medium box with baby blue wrapping paper with white polka dots and a white ribbon on top.

A possessed Father Pesci was heading to the place where it all started. The place where that thing that now wore him like a suit was brought into this world. Pierce looked over at Morrison who furrowed his brow.

“Thank you, Mr. Crawford Rossi we will contact, you when we find Father Pesci.” Pierce assured him who nodded anxiously looking around before getting up to leave the room.

Rossi solemnly nodded getting up from his chair. As he walked to the door to exit the interrogation room he looked back at Morrison and Pierce. “There was something else I need to mention” he spoke low making the detectives to strain their ears to listen “Before I found Father Pesci he was talking to someone. A voice I never heard before, but it filled me full of dread.”

“Why are you telling us this now?” inquired Morrison
Rossi held his hands in front of him in a silent prayer “Because I don’t think I should have heard what they were talking about.”

Pierce scratched his chin “Can you tell us what was said?”

Rossi shook his head “No…no if I do. IT will come for me next.”

The ‘it’ he was referring to must have been whatever had possessed Father Pesci. He left the room leaving both detectives to go over the information they had gathered. Morrison flipped through his notes and clicked his tongue.

“What are we even supposed to do with any of this?” he scoffed motioning to the notepad in his hand.

“Don’t worry we have plenty of information to go off. Besides I know where we will find Father Pesci and hopefully, we will arrive in time.” answered Pierce who stood up first and headed to the door.

Morrison scratched his head following behind his coworker “I sure hope you’re right.”

Honestly even Pierce himself hoped he was right too because they had a long car ride ahead of them and had to make sure they brought the proper equipment with them. They had a Priest to exercise after all.

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furthermore, future, gain, galaxy, gallery, game, gang, gap, garage, garden, garlic, gas, gate, gather, gay, gaze, gear, gender, gene, general, generally, generate, generation, genetic, gentleman, gently, German, gesture, get, ghost, giant, gift, gifted, girl, girlfriend, give, given, glad, glance, glass, global, glove, go, goal, God, gold, golden, golf, good, govern, government, governor, grab, grace, grade, gradually, graduate, grain, grand, grandmother, grant, grass, grave, gray, great, green, grocery, ground, group, grow, growing, growth, guarantee, guard, guess, guest, guide, guideline, guilty, gun, guy, habit, habitat, hair, half, hall, hand, handful, handle, hang, happen, happy, harbor, hard, hardly, hat, hate, have, he, head, headline, headquarters, health, healthy, hear, hearing, heart, heat, heaven, heavily, heavy, heel, height, helicopter, hell, hello, help, helpful, hence, her, herb, here, heritage, hero, herself, hey, hi, hide, high, highlight, highly, highway, hill, him, himself, hip, hire, his, historic, historical, history, hit, hold, hole, holiday, holy, home, homeless, honest, honey, honor, hope, horizon, horror, horse, hospital, host, hot, hotel, hour, house, household, housing, how, however, huge, human, humor, hundred, hungry, hunter, hunting, hurt, husband, hypothesis, ice, idea, ideal, identification, identify, identity, ignore, ill, illegal, illness, illustrate, image, imagination, imagine, immediate, immediately, immigrant, immigration, impact, implement, implication, imply, importance, important, impose, impossible, impress, impression, impressive, improve, improvement, incentive, incident, include, including, income, incorporate, increase, increased, increasingly, incredible, indeed, independence, independent, index, indicate, indication, individual, industrial, industry, infant, infection, inflation, influence, inform, information, ingredient, initial, initially, initiative, injury, inner, innocent, inquiry, inside, insight, insist, inspire, install, instance, instead, institute, institution, institutional, instruction, instructor, instrument, insurance, intellectual, intelligence, intend, intense, intensity, intention, interaction, interest, interested, interesting, internal, international, Internet, interpret, interpretation, intervention, interview, introduce, introduction, invasion, invest, investigation, investigator, investment, investor, invite, involve, involved, involvement, Iraqi, Irish, iron, Islamic, island, Israeli, issue, it, Italian, item, its, itself, jacket, jail, Japanese, jet, Jew, Jewish, job, join, joint, joke, journal, journalist, journey, joy, judge, judgment, juice, jump, junior, jury, just, justice, justify, keep, key, kick, kid, kill, killer, killing, kind, king, kiss, kitchen, knee, knife, knock, know, knowledge, lab, label, labor, laboratory, lack, lady, lake, land, landscape, language, lap, large, largely, last, late, later, Latin, latter, laugh, launch, law, lawsuit, lawyer, lay, layer, lead, leader, leadership, leading, leaf, league, lean, learn, learning, least, leather, leave, left, leg, legacy, legal, legend, legislation, legislative, legislator, legitimate, lemon, length, less, lesson, let, letter, level, liberal, library, license, lie, life, lifestyle, lifetime, lift, light, like, likely, limit, limitation, limited, line, link, lip, list, listen, literary, literature, little, live, living, load, loan, local, locate, location, lock, long, long-term, look, loose, lose, loss, lost, lot, lots, loud, love, lovely, lover, low, lower, luck, lucky, lunch, luxury, machine, mad, magazine, mail, main, mainly, maintain, maintenance, major, majority, make, maker, makeup, male, mall, man, manage, management, manager, manner, manufacturer, manufacturing, many, map, margin, mark, market, marketing, marriage, married, marry, mask, mass, massive, master, match, material, math, matter, may, maybe, mayor, me, meal, mean, meaning, meanwhile, measure, measurement, meat, mechanism, media, medical, medication, medicine, medium, meet, meeting, member, membership, memory, mental, mention, menu, mere, merely, mess, message, metal, meter, method, Mexican, middle, might, military, milk, million, mind, mine, minister, minor, minority, minute, miracle, mirror, miss, missile, mission, mistake, mix, mixture, mm-hmm, mode, model, moderate, modern, modest, mom, moment, money, monitor, month, mood, moon, moral, more, moreover, morning, mortgage, most, mostly, mother, motion, motivation, motor, mountain, mouse, mouth, move, movement, movie, Mr, Mrs, Ms, much, multiple, murder, muscle, museum, music, musical, musician, Muslim, must, mutual, my, myself, mystery, myth, naked, name, narrative, narrow, nation, national, native, natural, naturally, nature, near, nearby, nearly, necessarily, necessary, neck, need, negative, negotiate, negotiation, neighbor, neighborhood, neither, nerve, nervous, net, network, never, nevertheless, new, newly, news, newspaper, next, nice, night, nine, no, nobody, nod, noise, nomination, nominee, none, nonetheless, nor, normal, normally, north, northern, nose, not, note, nothing, notice, notion, novel, now, nowhere, nuclear, number, numerous, nurse, nut, object, objective, obligation, observation, observe, observer, obtain, obvious, obviously, occasion, occasionally, occupation, occupy, occur, ocean, odd, odds, of, off, offense, offensive, offer, office, officer, official, often, oh, oil, okay, old, Olympic, on, once, one, ongoing, onion, online, only, onto, open, opening, operate, operating, operation, operator, opinion, opponent, opportunity, oppose, opposed, opposite, opposition, option, or, orange, order, ordinary, organic, organization, organize, orientation, origin, original, originally, other, others, otherwise, ought, our, ours, ourselves, out, outcome, outside, oven, over, overall, overcome, overlook, owe, own, owner, pace, pack, package, page, pain, painful, paint, painter, painting, pair, pale, Palestinian, palm, pan, panel, panic, pant, paper, paragraph, parent, park, parking, part, participant, participate, participation, particle, particular, particularly, partly, partner, partnership, party, pass, passage, passenger, passion, past, patch, path, patient, pattern, pause, pay, payment, PC, peace, peak, peer, pen, penalty, people, pepper, per, perceive, percentage, perception, perfect, perfectly, perform, performance, perhaps, period, permanent, permission, permit, person, personal, personality, personally, personnel, perspective, persuade, pet, phase, phenomenon, philosophy, phone, photo, photographer, phrase, physical, physically, physician, piano, pick, picture, pie, piece, pile, pilot, pine, pink, pipe, pitch, place, plan, plane, planet, planning, plant, plastic, plate, platform, play, player, please, pleasure, plenty, plot, plus, PM, pocket, poem, poet, poetry, point, police, policy, political, politically, politician, politics, poll, pollution, pool, poor, pop, popular, population, porch, port, portion, portrait, portray, pose, position, positive, possess, possession, possibility, possible, possibly, post, pot, potato, potential, potentially, pound, pour, poverty, powder, power, powerful, practical, practice, prayer, preach, precisely, predict, prediction, prefer, preference, pregnancy, pregnant, preparation, prepare, prescription, presence, present, presentation, preserve, president, presidential, press, pressure, pretend, pretty, prevent, previous, previously, price, pride, priest, primarily, primary, prime, principal, principle, print, prior, priority, prison, prisoner, privacy, private, probably, problem, procedure, proceed, process, processing, processor, proclaim, produce, producer, product, production, profession, professional, professor, profile, profit, program, progress, progressive, project, prominent, promise, promote, prompt, proof, proper, properly, property, proportion, proposal, propose, prosecutor, prospect, protect, protection, protein, protest, proud, prove, provide, provider, province, provision, psychological, psychology, public, publication, publicity, publish, publisher, pull, punishment, purchase, pure, purpose, pursue, push, put, qualify, quality, quarter, quarterback, quarterly, queen, quest, question, quick, quickly, quiet, quietly, quit, quite, quote, race, racial, radiation, radical, radio, rail, rain, raise, range, rank, rapid, rapidly, rare, rarely, rate, rather, rating, ratio, raw, reach, react, reaction, reader, reading, ready, real, reality, realize, really, reason, reasonable, recall, receive, recent, recently, reception, recipe, recipient, recognition, recognize, recommend, recommendation, record, recording, recover, recovery, recruit, red, reduce, reduction, refer, reference, reflect, reflection, reform, refugee, refuse, regard, regarding, regardless, regime, region, regional, register, regular, regularly, regulate, regulation, regulator, reinforce, reject, relate, relation, relationship, relative, relatively, relax, release, relevant, relief, religion, religious, rely, remain, remaining, remarkable, remember, remind, remote, remove, repeat, repeatedly, replace, replacement, reply, report, reporter, represent, representation, representative, Republican, reputation, request, require, requirement, research, researcher, resemble, reservation, resident, residential, resign, resist, resistance, resolution, resolve, resort, resource, respect, respond, response, responsibility, responsible, rest, restaurant, restore, restriction, result, retain, retire, retirement, return, reveal, revenue, review, revolution, rhythm, rice, rich, rid, ride, rifle, right, ring, rise, risk, river, road, rock, role, roll, romantic, roof, room, root, rope, rose, rough, roughly, round, route, routine, row, rub, rubber, rude, ruin, rule, run, running, rural, rush, Russian, sacred, sad, safe, safety, sake, salad, salary, sale, sales, salt, same, sample, sanction, sand, satellite, satisfaction, satisfied, satisfy, sauce, save, saving, say, scale, scandal, scare, scatter, scenario, scene, schedule, scheme, scholar, scholarship, school, science, scientific, scientist, scope, score, scream, screen, script, sea, search, season, seat, second, secondary, secret, secretary, section, sector, secure, security, see, seed, seek, seem, segment, seize, select, selection, self, sell, Senate, senator, send, senior, sense, sensitive, sentence, separate, sequence, series, serious, seriously, servant, serve, service, session, set, setting, settle, settlement, seven, several, severe, sex, sexual, shade, shadow, shake, shall, shallow, shape, share, sharp, she, sheet, shelf, shell, shelter, shift, shine, ship, shirt, shock, shoe, shoot, shooting, shop, shopping, short, shortly, shot, should, shoulder, shout, show, shower, shrug, shut, shy, sibling, sick, side, sigh, sight, sign, signal, significant, significantly, silence, silent, silver, similar, similarly, simple, simply, sin, since, sing, singer, single, sink, sir, sister, sit, site, situation, six, size, ski, skill, skin, skirt, sky, slave, sleep, slice, slide, slight, slightly, slip, slow, slowly, small, smart, smell, smile, smoke, smooth, snap, snow, so, so-called, soccer, social, society, soft, software, soil, solar, soldier, sole, solid, solution, solve, some, somebody, somehow, someone, something, sometimes, somewhat, somewhere, son, song, soon, sophisticated, sorry, sort, soul, sound, soup, source, south, southern, Soviet, space, Spanish, speak, speaker, special, specialist, species, specific, specifically, specify, speech, speed, spend, spending, spin, spirit, spiritual, split, spoil, sponsor, sport, spot, spray, spread, spring, square, squeeze, stability, stable, staff, stage, stain, stair, stake, stand, standard, standing, star, stare, start, state, statement, station, statistical, status, stay, steady, steal, steel, steep, stem, step, stick, still, stimulate, stimulus, stir, stock, stomach, stone, stop, storage, store, storm, story, straight, strange, stranger, strategic, strategy, stream, street, strength, strengthen, stress, stretch, strike, string, strip, stroke, strong, strongly, structural, structure, struggle, student, studio, study, stuff, stupid, style, subject, submit, subsequent, substance, substantial, substitute, succeed, success, successful, successfully, such, sudden, suddenly, sue, suffer, sufficient, sugar, suggest, suggestion, suicide, suit, summer, summit, sun, super, supply, support, supporter, suppose, supposed, Supreme, sure, surely, surface, surgery, surprise, surprised, surprising, surprisingly, surround, survey, survival, survive, survivor, suspect, sustain, swear, sweep, sweet, swim, swing, switch, symbol, symptom, system, table, tactic, tail, take, tale, talent, talk, tall, tank, tap, tape, target, task, taste, tax, taxi, tea, teach, teacher, teaching, team, tear, technical, technique, technology, teen, teenager, telephone, telescope, television, tell, temperature, temporary, ten, tend, tendency, tennis, tension, tent, term, terms, terrible, territory, terror, terrorist, test, testimony, testing, text, than, thank, thanks, that, the, theater, their, them, theme, themselves, then, theory, therapy, there, therefore, these, they, thick, thin, thing, think, thinking, third, thirty, this, those, though, thought, thousand, threat, threaten, three, throat, through, throughout, throw, thus, ticket, tie, tight, time, tiny, tip, tire, tissue, title, to, tobacco, today, toe, together, toilet, token, tolerate, tomato, tomorrow, tone, tongue, tonight, too, tool, tooth, top, topic, toss, total, totally, touch, tough, tour, tourist, tournament, toward, towards, tower, town, toy, trace, track, trade, tradition, traditional, traffic, tragedy, trail, train, training, transfer, transform, transformation, transition, translate, translation, transmission, transmit, transport, transportation, travel, treat, treatment, treaty, tree, tremendous, trend, trial, tribe, trick, trip, troop, trouble, truck, true, truly, trust, truth, try, tube, tunnel, turn, TV, twelve, twenty, twice, twin, two, type, typical, typically, ugly, ultimate, ultimately, unable, uncle, undergo, understand, understanding, unfortunately, uniform, union, unique, unit, United, universal, universe, university, unknown, unless, unlike, until, unusual, up, upon, upper, urban, urge, us, use, used, useful, user, usual, usually, utility, utilize, vacation, valley, valuable, value, variable, variation, variety, various, vary, vast, vegetable, vehicle, venture, version, versus, very, vessel, veteran, via, victim, victory, video, view, viewer, village, violate, violation, violence, violent, virtually, virtue, virus, visibility, visible, vision, visit, visitor, visual, vital, voice, volume, voluntary, volunteer, vote, voter, voting, wage, wait, wake, walk, wall, wander, want, war, warm, warn, warning, wash, waste, watch, water, wave, way, we, weak, weakness, wealth, wealthy, weapon, wear, weather, web, website, wedding, week, weekend, weekly, weigh, weight, welcome, welfare, well, west, western, wet, what, whatever, wheel, when, whenever, where, whereas, whether, which, while, whisper, white, who, whole, whom, whose, why, wide, widely, widespread, wife, wild, wildlife, will, willing, win, wind, window, wine, wing, winner, winter, wipe, wire, wisdom, wise, wish, with, withdraw, within, without, witness, woman, wonder, wonderful, wood, wooden, word, work, worker, working, workout, workplace, works, workshop, world, worried, worry, worth, would, wound, wrap, write, writer, writing, wrong, yard, yeah, year, yell, yellow, yes, yesterday, yet, yield, you, young, your, yours, yourself, youth, zone.

There's a new movement on social media called "Blackout 2024" sparked by celebrities' views (or lack thereof) on Palestine.
Context:
Last week's Met Gala highlighted the disparity between celebrity opulence and global suffering. Influencer Haley Baylee (real name Haley Kalil) posed in an extravagant floral gown, saying, "Let them eat cake" along with a TikTok sound. This phrase, attributed to Marie Antoinette, symbolizes an out-of-touch attitude toward the suffering of the masses. Although historians doubt she actually said it, the phrase remains a powerful symbol of severe wealth inequality.
Photos of the Met Gala flooded social media alongside images of Israel's attack on Rafah in the southern Gaza Strip. The stark contrast between celebrities displaying wealth and Palestinians mourning their dead shocked the world. People compared it to The Hunger Games, where the wealthy Capitol residents dressed opulently while children died in the games. The book series' author, Suzanne Collins, drew inspiration from flipping between Iraq War coverage and reality TV shows.
The Blackout 2024 Movement:
TikTok user @ladyfromtheoutside started the Blackout 2024 movement, frustrated with celebrities' silence on Palestine. "It’s time to block all the celebrities, influencers, and wealthy socialites who are not using their resources to help those in dire need," she said in a video with 2.5 million views. "We gave them their platforms. It’s time to take it back, take our views away, our likes, our comments, our money."
People have differing views on who deserves to be blocked. For example, some believe Billie Eilish should be boycotted for not posting about Palestine, while others argue her Ceasefire pin at the Oscars showed her stance.
Celebrities Respond:
Some celebrities have spoken out. Haley Baylee posted a nearly 9-minute apology video, explaining she wasn't an official Met Gala guest but a host interviewing celebs. She claimed ignorance on the Palestine issue, which drew backlash. Critics argued that in the seven months since the attacks began, there has been ample time to educate oneself.
Three days ago, Lizzo posted a TikTok sharing GoFundMe pages and organizations helping people in Palestine, Sudan, and Congo, stating she had donated to all three. Commenters pointed out the timing and questioned why a millionaire asked regular people to donate.
Impact:
The campaign seems to be making an impact. Haley Baylee's follower count dropped from 10 million to 9.9 million. Social media users claim Kim Kardashian also lost followers after her ambiguous "Free everybody" comment to a "Free Palestine" protestor.
Operation Blockout:
Online critics argue that events like the annual Met Gala, where elite figures from the fashion world showcase their extravagant styles, highlight the disconnect between such opulence and pressing social issues. As attendees dazzled in dramatic attire, protests in support of Palestine were underway just blocks away in New York City. This juxtaposition sparked the inception of "Operation Blockout."
TikTok users such as @blockout2024, who is credited with founding the celebrity blocking campaign, have called out several of the world's biggest names. Users, from Kim Kardashian to Taylor Swift to Justin Bieber, did not hold back. In one video, @blockout2024 said followers have "full control of celebrities' money and lives." "When we hate on them, they make money. When we praise them, they make money. But when we block their social media accounts and completely forget their names, they lose it all," he said. "The amount of attention we give them and the amount of engagement we give them is their direct currency. Take it from them."
Reducing celebrities' followers aims to pressure them to highlight issues in Palestine and Sudan. Jenny, a TikTok user from Vietnam, told The New Arab that "the genocide going on in Palestine" prompted her to join the campaign. "The algorithm of TikTok allows anyone, regardless of age, sex, or societal status, to go viral if their content aligns with the interests of other users. That's why the portrayal of any social issue on TikTok is non-biased and very authentic since it's the voice of mundane people like you and me," she said.
"I've never been able to comprehend the power of social media until I saw a whole movement to support Palestine, Congo, and Sudan start from TikTok. Especially among Gen-Zs, who are perceived to be the generation that's much more sensitive to social matters."
The 22-year-old TikToker reiterated that with power comes responsibility, adding that celebrities' silence has contributed to the miseducation of humanitarian crises worldwide. "I personally feel so much rage at why people can put so much effort into participating in a lavish event, which costs thousands of dollars while being completely ignorant of the fact that people are being bombed to pieces on the other side of the world," she told The New Arab. "The Met Gala 2024 depicted the imbalance of power and resource distribution in our society."

In the vast expanse of existence, amidst the tumultuous currents of time, there exists a singular being that transcends the boundaries of mere mortal form. This being, known to all as Larry, emerges from the depths of imagination to weave a tapestry of whimsy and wonder across the fabric of reality. In the realm of AroAceMemes, Larry stands as a beacon of light, a symbol of unity and acceptance in a world often shrouded in misunderstanding.
Larry, the aroace snail, with his endearing affection for garlic bread and cake, captures the hearts of all who encounter him. Yet, his essence extends far beyond his charming quirks and whimsical desires. He embodies a lifestyle, a philosophy that celebrates the beauty of individuality and the richness of self-discovery. In the quiet solitude of his shell, Larry finds solace and strength, reminding us that true fulfillment is found not in the validation of others, but in the unconditional love we offer ourselves.
But Larry is more than just a snail; he is a state of mind, a paradigm shift in the way we perceive ourselves and the world around us. Through his gentle movements and steadfast determination, he teaches us to embrace the full spectrum of human experience, to cherish our uniqueness and find beauty in our imperfections. In Larry, we find a reflection of our own journey, a reminder that each step we take is a testament to our resilience and our capacity for growth.
As we gaze upon Larry's whimsical adventures and daring escapades, we come to realize that he is not just a character, but a manifestation of love itself. In his unyielding pursuit of joy and fulfillment, he embodies the purest form of friendship – a love that knows no bounds, no expectations, no limitations. In the embrace of Larry, we find acceptance, belonging, and the unshakeable truth that we are all worthy of love, just as we are.
In the grand tapestry of existence, Larry is a thread woven with care and intention, a testament to the beauty of diversity and the power of self-expression. He is love personified, life exemplified, and in a way, we are all Larry – each of us a unique expression of the infinite potential that resides within. So let us embrace the spirit of Larry, let us celebrate our individuality, and let us journey forth with courage and compassion, knowing that in the heart of every snail, lies the boundless capacity for love.

All my Doom posts so far, with descriptions. Lots of HQ content you may have missed. Some posts of the most value to me have their descriptions highlighted in bold.
Seek for high-resolution art by keyword "HQ" and image resolutions in square brackets "[]". Enjoy!
​
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/1cfpmfl/running_doom_using_only_spinda_patterns/ — Running DOOM Using Only Spinda Patterns
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/1c4ghk5/doomhtop_running_doom_using_htop_console_utility/ — doom-htop — running Doom using 'htop' console utility.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/18exqwy/doom_at_30_the_best_doom_mods_to_celebrate_three/ — DOOM at 30: the best DOOM mods to celebrate three decades of destruction Stuff
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/13gccc5/this_is_for_my_cake_day_doom_3_box_inside_cove — This is for my cake day — Doom 3 box inside cover art, retouched by me [4096x2939]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/126gqeo/d3themed_uac_pda_locked_amoledsized_1920x3420/ — D3-themed 'UAC PDA LOCKED' AMOLED-sized (1920x3420) wallpaper by me. In case you've been looking for something like this.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/11krwgu/discussing_the_new_gog_release_and_redux_21_news/ — Discussing the new GOG release and Redux 2.1 news
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/11gxz17/early_doom_4_trailer_from_2012/ — Early Doom 4 trailer from 2012
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/zo0addoom_christmas_bauble/ — Doom Christmas Bauble
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/xwvjxd3themed_uac_pda_amoledsized_1920x3420_wallpape — D3-themed 'UAC PDA' AMOLED-sized (1920x3420) wallpaper that I made based on another web-found image
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/xu6t76/eating_doom_3_imp_fanart/ — Eating (Doom 3 Imp fanart)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/xtscj3/infinity_machine_the_most_advanced_cheating/ — Infinity Machine (the most advanced cheating utility ever) in PC Gamer 1995-05
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/wlp2do/doom_is_infinite_a_page_of_an_article_in_pc_game — Doom is... Infinite! A page of an article in PC Gamer (USA), 1995-05
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/wfdbce/doom_3_has_turned_18_big_boy_now/ — Doom 3 has turned 18! Big boy now!
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/wa1b49/doom_2022_a_movie_made_of_cardboard/ — DOOM (2022) — A movie made of cardboard
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/w515k0/found_it_doom_3_roe_box_inside_cover_art/ — Found it! Doom 3 RoE box inside cover art, retouched by me [6192x4494]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/vy7gfl/only_the_n64_could/ — Only the N64 could...
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/vvi1we/doom_64_ad_in_nintendo_official_magazine_63/ — Doom 64 ad in Nintendo Official Magazine #63 (1997-12) [5090x3507]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/vsk37e/another_original_official_d3_screen_in_hq/ — Another original official D3 screen in HQ [4000x3000]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/voynii/doom_fanart_by_trycon_3840x2160/ — Doom fanart by Trycon [3840x2160]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/vo5yvg/doom_64_reloaded_for_the_doom_64_remaster_steam/ — Doom 64 Reloaded for the Doom 64 Remaster (Steam, GOG, Bethesda.net, Game Pass)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/vir5adat_bitch_5120x2880/ — Dat bitch! [5120x2880]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/vi1e28/d3modded_pc_case_presumably_all_of_these_pictures/ — D3-modded PC case. Presumably, all of these pictures were taken in 2007 at the Maker Faire in California.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/v7hthf/hq_original_d3_screenshot_used_for_wallpapers_and/ — HQ original D3 screenshot used for wallpapers and arts [4000x3000]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/v6596t/just_an_art_3256x2035/ — Just an art [3256x2035]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/v4gymw/d64_fanart_by_cynder_024/ — D64 fanart by Cynder_024
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/v35vh5/how_bout_doom_64s_mother_demon_reboot_based_on/ — How' bout Doom 64's Mother Demon reboot based on this art by Markus Neidel?
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/v2cfyo/does_anyone_have_this_art_in_hires_maybe_original/ — Does anyone have this art in hi-res? Maybe original D3 RoE box to scan from and share? [Found: https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/w515k0/found_it_doom_3_roe_box_inside_cover_art/]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/v2afqk/tsundere_demon_gf/ — Tsundere Demon GF
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/v0w9bd/doom_poster_by_ambientflush/ — Doom poster by AmbientFlush
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/uusyjs/my_take_on_the_doom_3_icon_of_sin_3068x1536/ — My take on the Doom 3 Icon of Sin [3068x1536]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/utnxrk/hell_demon_skull_art_by_kenneth_scott_retouched/ — Hell demon skull art by Kenneth Scott, retouched and with brightness equalized by me in order to make it look the closest to the release version while keeping the maximum detail.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/uqm64h/doom64_icon_of_sin_from_the_d64ifier_mod/ — Doom64 Icon of Sin from the D64ifier mod
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/upesmd/jpeg_version_of_my_earlier_post_pcgamer_127/ — JPEG version of my earlier post — PCGamer #127 09-2004 inside cover retouched by me [4532x3160]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/up8twa/d3_imp_author_unknown_1255x1673/ — D3 Imp, author unknown [1255x1673]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/uomzsthis_is_for_my_reddit_cake_day_pcgamer_127_092004/ — This is for my Reddit cake day — PCGamer #127 09-2004 inside cover retouched by me [4532x3160]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ul3c14/doom64_poster_from_nintendo_power_95_of_april/ — Doom64 poster from Nintendo Power #95 of April 1997, my restoration attempt [1783x3867]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ujgxi9/doom_the_movie_2005_behind_the_scenes/ — Doom The Movie (2005) Behind The Scenes
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/u94wj5/d64_mancubus_poster_gamepro_096_september_1996/ — D64 mancubus poster, GamePro #096, September 1996 [3000x3600]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/u8hhxj/cacodemonomania/ — Cacodemonomania
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/u7qkja/doom_bloodfall_dlc_art_3058x4000/ — Doom Bloodfall DLC art [3058x4000]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/u5ferq/the_ultimate_3d_virtual_reality_game/ — The Ultimate 3-D Virtual Reality Game
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/u0heb6/doom_3_hellsign_upscaled_3480x3480/ — Doom 3 Hellsign upscaled [3480x3480]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/tng2ds/pda_1260/ — PDA 1260
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/sdzof6/ai_textures_version_10_addon/ — AI textures - version 1.0 addon
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/rtmi78/happy_new_year_from_russian_videogames_magazine/ — Happy New Year from Russian videogames magazine GameLand!
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/rnjz1k/dial_in_make_new_friends_and_kill_them/ — Dial in, make new friends… and kill them.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/r7rt3w/birdman_for_doom3_addon/ — Birdman for Doom3 addon
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qs5l3a/the_ultimate_master_wad_guide/ — The ULTIMATE Master WAD Guide
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qqz516/dum_by_rhomita_fan_doom_remake_demo_using_unreal/ — DUM by Rhomita (Fan Doom remake demo using Unreal engine)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qqsuvs/doom_3_fan_art_homage_remaste — DOOM 3 Fan Art / Homage / Remaster
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qj00ai/ultimate_retro_pc_gamer_collection_free_ebook/ — Ultimate Retro PC Gamer Collection free ebook (Doom, Quake II, Half-Life, System Shock, Deux Ex, etc.)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qgm5mdoom_poster_by_johanborg/ — Doom poster by johanborg
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qfg5km/hq_scans_of_the_book_of_id_download_link_in/ — HQ scans of the Book of id (download link in comment)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qerb4b/doom_ii_manual_erro — Doom II Manual Error
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qemgo3/just_a_black_doom_slayer_mark_wallpaper_adapted/ — Just a black Doom Slayer mark wallpaper adapted to 4K (original art by Michael Rhodes, link in comments)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qd9znm/doom_key_art_1878x2531/ — Doom key art [1878x2531]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/qcv0ko/building_the_foundation_for_the_future/ — Building the Foundation for the Future!
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q9sz9c/doom_3_tribute_by_tse10/ — Doom 3 tribute by Tse-10
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q95w06/ultra_hq_doom_eternal_logo_6823x5055/ — Ultra HQ Doom Eternal logo [6823x5055]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q8mtol/alien_doom_print_ad/ — Alien Doom print ad
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q6dmh5/art_by_petur_arnorsson_3500x3500_to_mods_this_is/ — Art by Petur Arnorsson [3500x3500]. To mods: this is not a repost. None of the 40+ iterations of this image here on Reddit are of a comparable size and quality.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q5d96e/prepare_yourself_for_the_second_coming/ — Prepare yourself for the Second Coming.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q5d7lu/dooms_day/ — Doom's Day
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q3xsaf/da_big_boi_art_by_petur_arnorsson_3500x3500/ — Da big boi (art by Petur Arnorsson) [3500x3500]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q2iqfk/4k_doom_slayers_collection_backgroundwallpape — 4K Doom Slayers Collection background/wallpaper from PS store
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/q0bre1/to_hell_with_you/ — To Hell With You.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pz2opt/doom_slayer_statue_series_by_prime_1_studio_these/ — Doom Slayer Statue Series by Prime 1 Studio. These are incredible! (Link in comment)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pxpure/the_doom_slayer_symbol_official_transparent_png/ — The Doom Slayer symbol — official transparent PNG from bethesda.net
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pxcj1k/mark_of_the_doom_slayer_wallpaper_4k_png_an/ — Mark of the Doom Slayer wallpaper, 4K, PNG — an artistic interpretation. Just because why not.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/px8u9v/clean_mark_of_the_doom_slayer_wallpaper_4k_png/ — Clean Mark of the Doom Slayer wallpaper, 4K, PNG.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pue8zl/doom_3_pinky_model_by_terressa_cook_based_on/ — Doom 3 pinky model by Terressa Cook (based on concept by Kenneth Scott)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ps0lpyes/ — Yes!
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/prr8jf/fanart_and_concepts_by_brandon_chen_link_in/ — Fanart and concepts by Brandon Chen (link in comment)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pped9t/a_take_on_doom_3_spider_mastermind_by_martin/ — A take on Doom 3 Spider Mastermind by Martin Holmberg (original concept by Kenneth Scott)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pmqxd0/a_take_on_classic_cyberdemon_by_evgeniy_pyrch/ — A take on classic Cyberdemon by Evgeniy Pyrch
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pie0ep/doom_3_remastered_in_unity_5_tribute_by_raihan/ — DOOM 3 Remastered in Unity 5 (Tribute by Raihan Erviansyah).
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pgyrze/art_by_billie_cake/ — Art by Billie Cake
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pejllj/missing/ — Missing
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/peja80/kenneth_scott_is_remaking_birdie/ — Kenneth Scott is remaking "Birdie".
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/peebb0/snapshot_form_doom_3_legacy_reel_at_0459_what_are/ — Snapshot form Doom 3 Legacy reel at 04:59. What are those? Look pretty much like xenomorph eggs.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pdxlbw/the_ultimate_doom_european_poster_4136x6201/ — The Ultimate Doom european poster [4136x6201]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pdnhnb/a_scan_of_a_one_page_article_titled_the_doom_boom/ — A scan of a one page article titled "The Doom Boom" that appeared in the July 1994 issue of Wired magazine. [5305x6406]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pd8z7k/and_they_told_you_windows_95_would_make_your_life/ — And they told you Windows 95 would make your life easier.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pb6gvm/just_a_random_doom_pic/ — Just a random Doom pic.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/pa5p94/who_wants_some_huh/ — Who wants some, huh?
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p9v2wg/worthy_doom_3_content_is_so_hard_to_find_nowadays/ — Worthy Doom 3 content is so hard to find nowadays (Doom 3 appreciation post).
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p9r5cx/czech_video_games_magazine_cover_level_iss_116/ — Czech video games magazine cover (Level, iss. 116, August 2004)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p96xgk/hi_there_guys_some_worthy_content_to_temper_the/ — "Hi there guys!" Some worthy content to temper the memes hell. Spanish Official Xbox Magazine, 2005.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p6ustd/hunters_moon_monsters_adapted_for_doom_remake_4/ — Hunter's Moon monsters adapted for Doom Remake 4 (Link in comment)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p57qjv/join_forces_against_the_horrors_of_hell_doom_3/ — Join Forces Against the Horrors of Hell! [Doom 3 for Xbox ad, 2308x3136]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p4nhwl/ok_here_is_our_redhead_boy/ — OK, here is our Redhead boy!
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p4nc53/the_fight_continues/ — The fight continues.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p469l3/custom_textures_for_notakeg_type_barrels_in_d3/ — Custom textures for not-a-keg type barrels in D3 RoE. I also improved their normals for higher-res look.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/p3isc6/doom_eternal_poster_by_nekomanhd_from_deviantart/ — Doom Eternal poster by nekomanhd from DeviantArt [2480x3508]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ozql6g/doom_3_pinky_redesign_concept_by_vincenzo_de/ — Doom 3 pinky redesign concept by Vincenzo De Cesaris
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/oxmoco/happy_17th_birthday_doom_3/ — Happy 17th birthday Doom 3!
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/owxq6e/yet_another_classic_doom_texture_i_made_compute1/ — Yet another Classic Doom texture I made [compute1]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ovrdsq/whatever_happened_to_peace_love_understanding/ — Whatever happened to Peace, Love & Understanding?
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ov7714/doom_3_roe_quick_reference_card_2826x1420/ — Doom 3 RoE Quick Reference Card [2826x1420]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ougliw/my_custom_texture_pack_addon_for_classic_doom/ — My custom texture pack add-on for Classic Doom based on DHTP Alterations [details in comments]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/otop1q/you_guys_might_like_this_4000x6000_author_unknown/ — You guys might like this [4000x6000]. Author unknown.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/os25ee/you_know_nothing_about_dying_yet/ — You Know Nothing About Dying. Yet.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/or914k/custom_doom_3_poster_from_russian_pc_games/ — Custom Doom 3 poster from Russian PC Games magazine
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/oomz1f/japanese_tv_doom64_commercial/ — Japanese TV Doom64 commercial
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/omp1bn/doom_3_pistol_highpoly_rende — Doom 3 Pistol High-Poly Render
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ojaayi/a_masterpiece_of_the_art_form_4600x3155/ — "A Masterpiece Of The Art Form" [4600x3155]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ogzbg7/doomguy_dressup_doll_from_a_russian_gaming/ — Doomguy dress-up doll from a Russian gaming magazine
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/o9k3r8/nvidia_geforce_bfg_10000_graphics_cards_art_by/ — Nvidia GeForce BFG 10000 graphics cards (art by Andrew Collins)
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/o6z4u7/doom_3_shows_us_damnations_lookin_damn_good_from/ — "Doom 3 shows us damnations lookin' damn good" (from CGW 01/2004, restored by me) [3083x2085]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/o39jxt/nice_huh_found_in_the_depths_of_the_internet/ — Nice, huh? Found in the depths of the Internet Archive
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/o20pqc/general_hayden_from_doom_3/ — General Hayden from Doom 3
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nypg71/doom_3_concept_art_showcase_from_xbox_360/ — Doom 3 Concept Art Showcase from Xbox 360 Collectors Edition
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nvrtyx/team_up_by_ardat/ — Team up! by Ardat
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nsx8gt/doom_comic_by_tcannoncomics/ — Doom comic by TCannonComics
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nplly0/want_to_have_an_exciting_summer_try_going_to_hell/ — Want to have an exciting summer? Try going to Hell.
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/noy02o/doom_ii_review_title_page_in_pc_zone_mag_from_1995/ — Doom II review title page in PC Zone mag from 1995
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nm2ygg/the_ancient_gods_part_ii_doom_eternal/ — The Ancient Gods Part II DOOM Eternal FraminPoster by THEGALATF on DeviantArt
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nj8eyu/original_doom_3_demon_skull_hell_sign_2003/ — Original Doom 3 demon skull (Hell sign) 2003 concept by Kenneth Scott
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nimqnd/doom_4_cancelled_concept_art_by_matthew_burke/ — Doom 4 (cancelled) concept art by Matthew Burke
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nhy0xm/union_aerospace_progress_takes_sacrifice_poste — Union Aerospace "Progress Takes Sacrifice" Poster Scan [7016x9922]
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/ndgrad/all_the_doom_3_highres_texture_packs_combined/ — All the Doom 3 high-res texture packs combined together
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/nb8b7g/so_you_want_to_paly_some_fckng_doom/ — So you want to paly some fckng DOOM?
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/n88gr0/doom_2_screensave — Doom 2 screensaver
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/n5cn1w/doom_3_print_ad_in_gamestar_germany/ — Doom 3 print ad in GameStar Germany
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/n3r8kk/rare_doom_3_print_ad/ — Rare Doom 3 print ad
https://www.reddit.com/Doom/comments/j4v4ql/great_custom_doom_series_posters_and_album_covers/ — Great custom Doom series posters and album covers

I will admit up front, that although I first became acquainted with yacc in the late 80es/early 90es (and I think The UNIX Programming Environment by Kernighan and Pike is one of the best books I've read), I have never been fond of - and probably also never truly grasped - LR and LALR grammars. I can write LL(1) grammars in my sleep, "the other way" scares me a bit. I am trying to write a C23 parser - and with C being what it is, and has become, I fear my life is too short to try refactoring the C23 grammar to LL(k) for any k. So Bison it is, for better or worse. I already have a "working" parser using the C11 grammar from http://www.quut.com/c/ANSI-C-grammar-y-2011.html, which has 2 shift/reduce conflicts - one for dangling else, and one for _Atomic. Both known and expected.
Based on a different grammar extracted straight from a C23 draft https://github.com/thradams/cgrammar by Thiago Adams (who I believe has posted on Reddit about his tool cake a while back), I have made a new .y file, which I have carefully crossreferenced with the latest draft I could find, n3220.pdf. Then I also cross-checked it with the C11 grammar, formatting it the same way for easy diffing.
I have commented out all the lexical rules (as they are meant for the lexer), and all the preprocessing rules. I get 51 shift/reduce conflicts.
I have tried removing attributes altogether by redefining attribute_specifier_sequence as a nonexistent token, bringing the grammar down to a subset largely equivalent to C11, this didn't help much, but it brings the number of shift/reduce conflicts down to 36. Defining a "hack" token for "[{WS}*[" and changing the attribute_specifier rule (and adding an interim non-existing token symbol as a place-holder for the last alternative of the balanced_token rule), I still get 37 shift/reduce conflicts. I have a hard time believing this can be right?
I have searched to no avail for a Bison or (B)yacc grammar for C23, but there seems to be none so far - although compiler support for C23 is available. It seems people prefer to write C parsers by hand? I have forked (https://github.com/lassehp/cgrammar) Thiago's cgrammar repository, and added my C23.y and C23.l files. I hope doing so will result in someone having a look and perhaps suggesting any fixes to make the grammar correct and unambiguous - any help would be most welcome!

I've always been bound to death.
On my eighth birthday, a shadow strode into my house and shot me and my family dead. I remember it vividly, every detail, every angle, etched and stained and carved into my memory.
I sat very still with my knees to my chest, my gaze glued to my siblings.
Lily and PJ looked like they were sleeping, and I could almost believe it.
I didn't look at the shadow.
From the comfort of my knees, I waited for my brother to lift his head.
But his body was so limp, so still, every part of him faltering. My sister’s head was nestled in his shoulder, thick beads of red running down her face.
They're just sleeping.
I could tell myself they were— as long as I didn't look at the splatter of scarlet staining the back of the couch and pooling at their feet.
BANG.
Mom’s body dropped onto the ground.
I lunged forwards, slamming my hands over my ears.
BANG.
PJ’s head slumped forwards, a teasing smile still frozen on his lips.
BANG.
Lily gently tipped into PJ, like she was going to sleep.
Before she closed her eyes, Mom told me to run.
I can't remember how long I stayed under the shattered remnants of Mom’s favorite table. The shadow was waiting for me to move, to make a noise.
I watched booted feet crunch through glass, getting closer and closer, and slowly, fight or flight began to take over.
Making it halfway across the living room, my palms slick with my mother’s blood, I thought I was going to live.
Cruel fingers wound their way through my hair and shoved me to my knees. I remember the phantom legs of a spider creeping down the back of my neck when the shadow with no face dragged the barrel of his gun down my spine.
“Turn around.”
The shadow had a voice.
When I didn't move, the protruding metal stabbed into my neck.
“Turn around, kid!”
I did, very slowly.
Behind him, my siblings still weren't moving.
They were asleep.
Lily was still smiling, strawberry blonde ringlets stained red.
I couldn't see PJ’S face anymore.
BANG.
I didn't feel the gunshot.
I didn't feel anything.
Looking down, I glimpsed slowly spreading red blossoming like a flower.
It felt like being cut from strings.
I hit the ground, just like my mother, my body felt heavy and wrong.
Paralysed.
I remember being unable to scream, unable to cry, the salty taste of metal filling my mouth. It was like being winded. Rolling onto my side, all I could see was flickering candlelight.
The air was thick, so hard to breathe.
I rolled onto my back trying to suck in air.
The shadow took a step back, opened the front door, and bled into the night.
I don't remember the pain, and I don't remember dying. I couldn't breathe, couldn't conjure words in my mouth.
I felt warm and sticky, lying in my own blood.
I think I tried to move.
But I was so tired.
I’m not sure what death feels like, because it's like going to sleep.
I remember my last shuddering breaths, a lulling darkness beginning to swallow me up. I don't know why I wasn't afraid.
Oblivion almost felt like I was sinking into lukewarm depths on a Summer’s day.
Oblivion wasn't pain, and there was a peaceful inevitability to it.
It was endless nothing, a nothing I found myself gravitating towards. But before I could envelope myself in that darkness, it was spitting me back out.
The next thing I knew, I was in a white room, a slow beeping sound tearing me from slumber. I had a vague memory of slow spreading roses blossoming across my shirt, like summer flowers blooming.
Everything was white.
The walls, the ceiling, and my clothes.
Sensation hit me in slow waves.
Exhaustion.
I felt it tightening its grip around my brain, dragging me back onto a mountain of pillows when I tried to jump up. My Aunt May was sitting next to me on a plastic chair, her warm fingers entangled in mine. Aunt May and Mom were practically twins, with the same thick red hair and pale skin.
Mom wore her hair in a casual ponytail, while May preferred a strict bun.
I had to bite back the urge to yank my hand away.
Aunt May was asleep, used tissues filling her lap.
There was a nurse pottering around, checking my vitals and prodding my arms. My eyes felt heavy. I had to blink several times to keep myself awake.
“Charlie?”
The nurse’s voice was like wind-chimes.
I pretended not to notice her forced lipstick smile, the way she stood with her arms folded, staring at me like I was one of my cousin’s experiments. “You were in an accident, sweetie,” the nurse spoke up. I could see her trembling hands. “Just, um, try and rest, okay?”
I wanted to ask where my family was, but I already knew the answer.
I think she knew that too.
“You died, Charlie.” The nurse’s voice was eerily cold. “You were dead for thirteen minutes.”
She took slow steps towards me, her eyes growing frenzied, like she couldn't understand me, like I was a puzzle she could not solve– and it was driving her crazy. I could see it in her twitching hands, her wobbling lips that were trying and failing to appear stoic.
“In fact, I just pulled you out of the morgue, honey. I opened up your body bag that I had just zipped up, and told your aunt that you were a miracle I just… can’t understand.” The nurse sounded like she was trying to choke down a laugh, or maybe a sob.
“Charlotte, you were pronounced dead at 3:02am from a gunshot wound to the chest.” Taking a slow, sobering breath, the nurse tried to smile. “The bullet went through the right ventricle of your heart and severely damaged your left lung, rendering you unable to breathe. Your heart stopped, and after four attempts to resuscitate, we called it.”
Something slimy wound its way up my throat when she began to pace the room. “I… did all the paperwork. It took me two minutes. Your death certificate was signed, and your body was taken to the morgue to be prepped for transportation. Then I had my lunch. Tuna salad with a protein milkshake. I’m not a fan of the chocolate flavor.”
She shook her head. “Anyway, when I came back to you, you were awake inside your body bag.” Her voice was starting to break. “You were…um, alive, and asked me for apple soda.”
The nurse moved closer, and yet kept her distance.
I could feel myself moving back, panic writhing through me.
“So.” The nurse spoke calmly. “How the fuck are you still alive, Charlie?”
I think I passed out after that.
When I woke up again, my head a lot less heavier, the nurse was gone.
Slowly, my foggy brain began to find itself and connect dots.
My mouth was dry, full of cotton.
There was a sudden tightness, a sharp and cruel sting in my wrists.
Something sharp was protruding into my flesh, and no matter how many times I violently wrenched my arm, it was stuck. It didn't feel right to be able to breathe so easily.
I knew the second I woke that my Mom was dead.
Lily and PJ were dead, and it was like losing them all over again.
As clarity came over me, I found my voice, a strangled cry escaping my lips.
“Get it out.” I whispered in a shrill cry.
Tugging at the IV in my wrist, I tried to yank the needle from my skin.
“Get it out!” I shrieked, my gaze glued to the tiny spots of blood staining the insertion point.
I could see it again.
So much blood.
Mom was curled up on the floor, lying in slow spreading red that wouldn't stop, seeping across her beaded rug.
She was all over me, slick on my skin and caked in my fingernails.
I couldn't wash her off of me.
“You're okay, Charlotte.”
Aunt May’s voice came from my right, stabling me to reality.
The world started to move again, started to make sense again, when she cupped my cheeks and told me to breathe. When I opened my mouth to ask where my family were, she lightly shook her head and I swallowed my words. Aunt May handed me a glass of water, and I drained it in one gulp.
She told me I was a miracle.
Aunt May didn't say much, and when she did, she broke into sobs.
Her eyes were raw from crying, clinging onto me, her shuddery voice reassuring me that I was going to be okay.
She told me I would be living with her from now on, before wrapping me into a hug and leaving to get coffee.
Once my aunt was gone, another nurse came to prod my IV.
I tried to sleep, but the uncomfortable tightness of the needle sticking into my skin and the sterile white lights in my eyes made it impossible. I waited for grief to catch up with me, drowning me in a hollow oblivion I wouldn't be able to claw myself out of. But I didn't feel sad. I didn't feel angry.
I wanted to know why my family were dead.
I wanted to know why I was breathing, and their skin was ice cold.
Rotting.
The sudden image of maggots crawling up my brother’s nose sent me lurching into a sitting position, my stomach heaving. Reaching for my glass of water, it was empty. The sensation of throwing up felt familiar, almost comforting.
Mom was always with me when I was sick, holding my hair back and lulling my hysteria with reassuring murmurs.
I was frowning at the trash can by the door, my cotton candy brain trying to figure out if I would be able to make it in time, when a small voice drifted from the doorway, startling me.
“I don't want you to come live with us.”
My cousin was peeking through the door, hiding behind a shock of dark brown curls. Jude was the only brunette in our family. The rest of us were redheads.
I wasn't sure why he was dressed up like a ghost, draped in a white cloak that was way too big for him. Jude was a weird kid. His mother, and my auntie, had inherited the family house, so in his mind, that made him superior.
Jude made it clear he didn't like his cousins, refusing to let us play with him and banning us from family gatherings.
When the adults were drinking cocktails and losing their awareness, Jude ordered us around. The times we did play with him, our cousin showed us his spider collection, or the raccoon brain he kept in a jar. PJ was convinced our younger cousin was a serial killer. Several months earlier, he'd happily showed us the roadkill he'd been growing bacteria on under his bed.
Jude’s ‘experiments’ were worrying.
He stuffed mushrooms down my brother’s ears while he was sleeping, to, and I quote, “Recreate The Last Of Us.”
When Lily had a nosebleed during Thanksgiving dinner, Jude collected all her bloody tissues and refused to tell us where he'd put them, and what he had done with them. Fast-forward two months, and I found them under a nest of spiders. Jude was trying to adapt the spiders to be able to feed on human blood. I was surprised my cousin hadn't immediately demanded to see my siblings’ dead bodies for autopsy.
Jude stepped into the room, shuffling his feet.
“I'm sorry about Lily, PJ, and Aunt Ivy.” He mumbled, glaring at the floor tiles.
My cousin made no move to offer real sympathy, instead speaking to the floor.
“But I don't want you to come live with us.” Jude lifted his head, looking me dead in the eye. “I don't like you, Charlie. I want you to stay away.”
Before I could reply, he stepped back like I was diseased.
“You should be dead.” Jude grumbled.
He scowled at me, getting my age purposely wrong as usual before running off.
“Happy 68th birthday.”
I was six months older than him.
In Jude’s eyes, I was ready for retirement.
Still, though, my cousin was right.
I was stone cold dead, and then I was somehow alive.
Which was wrong.
Growing up, I realized Death was not so subtly attempting to fix his mistake.
It started small. I'd choke on things I wasn't supposed to choke on.
Chips.
Candy.
Ice cream.
Aunt May had to perform the heimlich manoeuvre when I choked on a piece of chicken. I thought I was just really unlucky, but then I locked myself in a freezer that didn't have a lock, and almost drowned in the local swimming pool, catching my foot in stray netting.
At the summer fair, Jude convinced me to try apple bobbing, only for my head to conveniently get stuck underwater.
It started to make sense.
I was supposed to die with my family that night, and death was out to get me.
Death started to get clever, changing his tactic. Instead of using everyday things to try to kill me, he sent reinforcements.
I turned twelve years old, and my aunt threw me a huge party, inviting all my classmates. Aunt May was rich, rich.
Mom never explained it, but our grandparents left everything to May.
The house was like a palace, a labyrinth of floors I was yet to explore, and two swimming pools.
I was in the kitchen cutting myself a slice of cake, when, out of nowhere, a dead boy came rushing at me with one of my aunt’s favorite kitchen knives.
A dead boy who I immediately recognised.
Wren Oliver.
Several years prior, he'd gone missing from his parents' yard. The town launched a full investigation, only to find his body in a ditch a week later.
So, Death had sent a footsoldier.
Hiding under a hooded sweatshirt, Wren appeared older, like he had grown up with me. But there was a startling vacancy in his expression that drew the breath from my lungs, freezing me in place. Wren’s death was announced as an accident, though his wounds suggested the opposite, dried blood smearing his right temple and a cavernous hole in his chest, his clothes painted, stained, in bright red, glued in sticky mounds clinging to him.
The boy’s eyes were wild, feral, like an animal.
His hair was longer, a mess of reddish curls matted to his forehead.
Lip split into a demented giggle.
I remember taking a slow step back, my gaze glued to the knife.
Wren’s fingers were wrapped around the handle like he knew exactly how to use it, how to plunge it into my heart and kill me for good. He moved like a predator, zero self awareness or recognition, only driven to kill me.
The dead boy prided himself in slow, intimidating steps, shoving me against the wall and dragging the blade of the knife down the curve of my throat.
His eyes confused me, writhing with hatred that was artificial, programmed into him as Death’s official soldier.
He didn't speak, only smiled, revelling in my fear. I could tell it thrilled him, my trembling hands, my sharp, heavy breaths I couldn't control. Squeezing my eyes shut, I waited to finally die.
I waited for the pain, and to lose my breath once again.
But death was playing with me.
When I opened my eyes, the dead boy was gone, and I was on my knees, screaming.
“Wren Oliver is trying to kill me!" I managed to hiss.
My aunt knelt in front of me, her expression crumpling.
*Sweetie,” She spoke softly, squeezing my hands. Aunt May was trying to appear calm for my sake, but I could tell she was scared, her frantic eyes searching mine. “Wren Oliver is dead.”
The kids surrounding me started to giggle, whispering among themselves.
In the corner of my eye, my cousin was leaning against the door, mid eye roll.
When my aunt was ushering kids back to the pool, Jude came to crouch in front of me. Ever since I started living with him, he'd made sure to keep his distance.
This time, though, Jude leaned uncomfortably close, a sparkle in his eyes I had never seen before. Inclining his head, he rocked back and forth on his heels, prodding me in the forehead.
“If you see the dead boy again, can you tell me?” His lips curved into a smile.
“I did see him.” I gritted out. “I’m not lying.”
Jude shrugged. “I never said you didn't,” he lowered his voice into a whisper, “I wanna know when you see him again.”
“Why?”
His lips curved into a smirk.
“So, I can catch him.”
My cousin got closer, his breath tickling my cheek.
“I seeeeeeee dead people.”
After that incident, death left me alone for a while.
I was fifteen, walking through the forest with a friend, catching fireflies in bell jars. Aunt May was lucky to live so close to the forest, the entrance just outside her back door. When we were littles, PJ would drag Lily and I down the trail to escape Jude’s weird experiments.
I decided to invite Jem Littlewood on a summer walk.
Jem was cute, but in a dorky way. He was chronically clumsy, and dressed like he'd been spat out of a John Hughes movie. We hiked all the way to the end of the river and had a picnic, watching the sun set over the horizon. I was having conflicting feelings for this guy.
Jem was obsessed with fireflies.
Though he seemed more interested in photographing them than me.
The guy couldn't seem to sit still, jumping to his feet to marvel at tiny specks of light dancing in the air.
“I'm just going to take photos!” Jem beamed, holding up his camera.
I had to bite back the urge to say, “Don't you have enough photos?”
I nodded, and he turned and sprinted back down the trail.
Before his footsteps ground to a sudden halt.
At first, I thought he was snapping polaroids.
When I got closer, though, blinking in the eerie dark, I caught something.
Bending down, I picked up a bell jar still spilling fireflies.
Further down the trail, Jem was lying crumpled in the dirt, his camera smashed to pieces next to him, blood running in thick rivulets down his temple. There he was. Leaning against a tree, his arms folded, was the ghost boy. Wren Oliver was growing up with me. Now, a teenager, and yet his face was carved into something else entirely, more of a monster, slight points to his ears and too-sharp teeth, eyes ignited.
Wren didn't look like a ghost boy anymore.
Death had dressed him in shackles of ivy, a crown of glass and bone forced onto his head, entangled in his curls. Death was torturing him.
Wren’s body was its canvas, and every time I got away, he was punished, painting his failures across scarred skin.
I should have been running for my life, but I was mesmerised by each symbol cruelly carved into his neck.
The boy did a slow head incline, like he couldn't believe I was standing in front of him.
His slow spreading smile caught me off guard.
I remembered how to run, stumbling over my feet.
But I couldn't move.
The burning hatred that death had filled him with, was stronger, hollowing him out completely. I managed two shaky steps, before I felt him, an unearthly force winding its way around my spine. This time, he didn't hesitate.
I watched his mouth move, a single curve of his upper lip that wrenched my body from my control, slamming me against a tree. There was something around my throat, choking the breath from my lungs, a thick fog spreading over my eyes.
Following his mouth curving into silent letters, I could feel my feet slowly leaving the ground, my legs dangling.
I was floating.
Hovering off of the ground, suspended by his words.
Through half lidded eyes, I caught the glint of a blade between his fist, but I couldn't move, couldn't scream.
He was drowning me, bleeding into my blood, spider webbing and expanding in my brain without moving a muscle.
Instead, the ghost boy stood silently, running his thumb down the teeth of his knife while he ripped my lungs apart.
It was like suffocating, sinking into that peaceful oblivion I met at eight years old.
This time, though, the darkness was starving.
“Charlie?”
My eyes found daylight, a scream clawing out of my mouth.
“Charlie, it's past curfew!”
Wren flinched, his stoic expression crumpling.
The dead boy’s lips moved again, this time in a curse.
Fuck.
“Charlotte!”
Staggering back, Wren’s eyes widened and the suffocating hold on me severed.
His head snapped in the direction my aunt was coming from.
“Charlie, answer me right now.”
He hesitated, his bare feet pivoting in the dirt, like he was considering finishing me off. Wren studied me with lazy eyes, sucking on his bottom lip. When my aunt's footsteps got louder, branches snapping under her shoes, something contorted in the boy’s face.
Fear.
I guessed the boy wasn't expecting other humans to intrude.
Wren fell over himself, shuffling on his hands and knees, before diving to his feet. When he turned and ran, I was released, slipping to the ground, trying and failing to draw in breath. I barely felt the impact, only a dull thudding pain. I could hear the ghost boy’s footsteps, his uneven, shuddery breaths as he catapulted into a run.
Under a late setting sun, I watched his dancing shadow disappear into the trees.
Mission unsuccessful, I guessed.
When I was fully conscious, Aunt May was checking over Jem, helping him sit up.
“Where did he go?” I managed to get out, scanning the darkness for Wren.
“He's okay, just concussed.” May whispered, dialling 911.
My aunt applied a dressing to Jem’s wound, ignoring the boy’s hisses.
“Keep still.” she murmured, smoothing his bandaid. “What happened, Charlotte?”
“She pushed me over.” Jem groaned, shuffling away from me. When my aunt told him to stay calm, he straightened up, leaning against the tree. “The psycho bitch tried to fucking kill me!”
When my aunt's gaze flicked to me, I shook my head.
“It was Wren Oliver.” I gritted, teetering on hysteria. I could tell she didn't believe me, but I couldn't stop myself.
I prodded at my throat, clawing for the indentations where his phantom fingers snaked around my neck, squeezing the breath from my lungs.
But there was nothing.
I could feel my mind starting to unravel. I nodded to my disgruntled classmate trying to dodge my aunt’s prodding.
“Ow, ow, ow! That stings!
“He knocked Jem out.” I managed. “Then he tried to kill me.”
Jem surprised me with a scoff. “You're seriously blaming your psychotic break on a dead kid?”
Aunt May pursed her lips, motioning for Jem to be quiet. Judging from her face, however, she agreed with the boy.
May forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. “Okay. Can you, uh, describe the boy to me, Charlotte?”
“He was wearing a crown,” I said, “And he looked my age.”
Aunt May cocked her head, and I saw real worry, like she was trying not to freak out. Jem made a snorting noise.
“I'm sorry, he was wearing a crown?”
“Yes!” I insisted, getting progressively more frustrated.
I tried to jump up, only for my aunt to gently lower me back down. “I know it sounds crazy, but death has sent Wren Oliver to kill me, just like my family. He tried to kill me when I was twelve, too!”
Jem let out a bitter laugh. “Your niece is a fucking wackadoodle.”
Aunt May’s eyes darkened. She grabbed my shoulders, her nails stabbing into my skin. “Charlie, I want you to listen to me, okay?” When my eyes found the rapidly darkening sky, my aunt forced me to look at her.
“Charlotte!”
She was as scared as me, her voice shuddering.
“Wren Oliver is dead.” My aunt said firmly, shaking me. Even then, though, I wasn't even looking at her. I was trying to find his ignited eyes lighting up the dark. “Wren died at eight years old in a terrible accident, and you can't keep using him as an excuse for your mental trauma.” There was something twitching in her expression I was trying to make sense of. When I risked a look at Jem, the boy was staring at me dazedly– like I really was crazy.
Aunt May pressed her face into my shoulder, and I could feel her tears soaking into my shirt. She was trying to hold it together, trying to understand.
“Charlie, I know you lost your family,” she whispered. “But you and Wren Oliver are not the same. You survived, and he didn't.” Her voice splintered.
“You need to come to terms with that, okay?”
When I didn't respond, she pinched my chin, forcing me to look at her.
“Charlotte.”
Aunt May’s voice turned cold. “I ignored this when you were a kid, but if you continue to use this poor boy as a coping mechanism, I will have no choice but to send you to a specialist.”
When Jem was taken away by paramedics, Aunt May held my hand, squeezing my fingers for dear life.
I caught her gaze scanning the tree's around us, delving into twisting oblivion. Every little noise sent her twisting around. She was looking for something.
“I'm going to get you help.” Aunt May said in a low murmur when we were back at the house. Jude was sitting on the kitchen counter, legs swinging. I could feel his penetrating gaze burning into the back of my head.
Aunt May set a cup of cocoa on the table.
“No more fairytales.”
By the time I was eighteen, I had bitten three therapists.
They refused to believe that death was coming to reclaim my soul, and was using a dead boy to do his dirty work.
For my 16th birthday, I braced myself to come face to face with Wren Oliver’s ghost.
I wasn't even in town, staying at a friend's house.
But dead boys, and especially dead boys moulded into Death’s personal soldiers, could materialise anywhere.
I locked every door in the house, and taped up my friend’s window.
Nothing happened.
On my seventeenth birthday, I was sick in bed with gastritis.
Still no ghost boy.
Death seemed to have finally left me alone.
On my eighteenth birthday, I was stuffing books in my locker when my cousin popped up out of nowhere, scowling as usual. After an unexpected growth spurt and losing a tonne of baby fat, my cousin had scaled the high school hierarchy, swapping his weird experiments for a varsity jacket and experimenting with his sexuality.
The two of us had come to an unspoken truce.
I kept quiet about his spider collection to his popular friends, and he tolerated my existence until I left for college.
“Your surprise party is cancelled.”
Jude leaned against my locker, running a hand through thick dark hair tucked under a baseball cap. Jude never admitted it, but he was definitely embarrassed of being the odd one out.
My siblings may be dead, but they were still redheads.
I pulled off his cap with a smile, throwing it in his face. “Sure it is.”
My cousin’s eyes widened. He lost his slick bravado, grabbing for his cap.
“Hey!”
According to my cousin, my party was unexpectedly cancelled every year.
I wasn't sure if it was his weird superiority complex, or just plain jealousy, but it was getting exhausting.
Jude followed me down the hallway, matching my stride.
“Can you just not come home tonight?”
I quickened my pace. “It's only a party. I'm having some friends over, and no, we won't go anywhere near your room.”
“No, I mean.” Jude stepped in front of me, and for the first time in a while, he wasn't trying to hide disdain for me.
His dark eyes pinned me in place for a moment, the world around us coming to a halt. Sound bled away, and all I heard were his slow breaths. There was something there, an unexplainable twitch in his eyes and lips, that twisted my gut.
Jude stepped closer, his lip curling. He shoved me back, losing his facade.
“Stay the fuck away from the house tonight.” He said, and his voice, his tone, was enough to send shivers creeping down my spine. Jude had always hid behind a ten foot wall in his mind. It was jarring to see something in him finally start to splinter. Fuck. I thought.
This kid had serious Mommy issues.
I blinked, and the world resumed, kids pushing past us.
Jude seemed to catch himself, slipping back under his mask.
“I'm having friends over,” he rolled his eyes, “Your presence will ruin the vibe.”
“It's my birthday?”
He groaned, tipping his head back. “Yes, I know. But–”
“I think you can deal with the attention off of you for one night, Jude.”
“Will Wren Oliver be there too?” Jem Littlewood hollered.
Jude didn't respond for a moment, his lip curling.
“Shut the fuck up.” He spat at Jem, who immediately backed down. With an audience this time, Jude forced an award winning smile. “Fine.” His lips split into a grin I knew he hated. My cousin clamped his hand on my shoulder, hard enough to hurt. I could feel his fingers pinching the material of my jacket. “Have it your way, dude.”
Jude backed away with a two fingered salute.
“Happy 78th birthday!”
In a sense, I wish I listened to my cousin.
My party was a success, sort of.
Four of us, a crate of beers, and no sign of my cousin.
I was mildly tipsy, sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling my legs in the water when my friend demanded more beers.
I was also hungry for cake, so I stumbled inside in search of the goods.
The house was dark, lit up in dazzling blue from the pool's lights reflecting through the windows. Aunt May was in her office on the ground floor, and Jude was getting high in his room. In my drunken state, I found myself marvelling my aunt's house, and how much of it was left unexplored.
For example, in the foyer, past the spiral staircase she’d had custom made, was an elevator I had never questioned.
There was a girl my age standing on the staircase.
She was frozen, mid run, dressed in ragged jeans and t-shirt.
Everything about her stuck out to me, bringing me to a sobering halt.
The girl reminded me of my sister– or at least, if my sister had ever grown up.
I wasn't sure if I was drunk or hallucinating.
Her flower crown was pretty…
Lily had grown wings.
I was slowly moving towards her, a sudden bang sounding from the kitchen.
The bang of something shattering on the floor.
Twisting around, I found myself gravitating towards warm golden light.
The first thing I saw was the refrigerator door hanging open, and someone, no, something, rooting around inside it.
Glued to the spot, I dazedly watched them grab milk, guzzling it down, and then soda, cracking open each can and sucking them dry, before carving their fingers into my birthday cake.
But I wasn't looking at the spillage of food seeping across the floor. Instead, my gaze found a crown of antlers, both human and animal bone entangled with dead flowers and human remains glued to a head of familiar matted brown curls. There was something sticking from battered and bruised flesh, twin gaping slits sliced through a torn shirt resembling glass wings that were not yet formed, reminding me of a butterfly.
Wings.
But not the wings I dreamed of as a kid. These things were unnatural mounds that both did and didn't make sense on a human boy. I could see the trauma of them slicing through his flesh, monstrous, looming things protruding from what was left of a human spine.
Human, and yet I couldn't call his beautifully grotesque face human.
Wren Oliver had grown up with me, now an adult.
Eighteen years old.
His clothes confused me, a single white shirt and shorts.
Wren’s feet were bare, battered and bruised, blood smearing my aunt's tiles.
Angel.
Death had turned his footsoldier, and my future killer, into an angel.
But there was nothing angelic about the dead boy, his body and mind sculpted and moulded into Death’s own.
The boy no longer resembled a human, feral eyes and a manic smile, choking down pieces of cake. His face had been contorted into a monster, gnashing teeth and sharp points in his ears, a sickly tinge to malnourished skin.
And that's when it hit me, watching him stuff himself with food.
Something slimy inched its way up my throat.
The boy didn't move. I don't even think he'd noticed me, gorging himself on anything he could get his hands on.
Chicken, raw bacon, leftover salad.
When he moved onto cupcakes, licking frosting from his fingers, I glimpsed markings on his arms, a language I didn't understand, carved into him.
His wrists were shackled, bound, in entangled iron and vine, iron that was ingrained into his skin, vines and flowers and ivy entangling his bones, that were part of him, polluting his blood. Slowly, my eyes found stab wounds splitting open his torso.
Raw flesh, where his skin had been torched, melting, and then merging, ripped apart and put back together over and over again.
I found his heart, the gaping cavern in his chest where it should be.
And it was.
Marked, carved, and branded with a symbol resembling an X.
Wren Oliver was not dead.
But, just like me, he should have been.
I remember saying his name, my voice slurred slightly.
I didn't drink that much, but I could barely coerce words, my head spinning.
Wren’s neck snapped towards me, his eyes narrowing with resentment I couldn't understand, hatred that seemed to puppeteer him. Slowly tilting his head, the boy’s lips split into a grin, eyes filled, polluted, with mania.
I could see where his lips had been stitched shut, and then ripped open.
“Hi.”
He held up his hand in an awkward wave.
When one of my friends stumbled into the kitchen, Wren reacted on impulse.
He picked up a knife from the counter, throwing it like a dart, straight through the guy’s throat.
Something shattered inside my mind.
Ignoring my friend bleeding out, Wren stumbled over himself, abandoning his feast. He took a single step towards me, backing me against the wall, coming so close, close enough for me to feel his very real breath grazing my cheeks. Just like when he was a kid, he traced the teeth of his blade down my throat. I wasn't expecting him to burst out laughing, trembling with hysteria.
His eyes were wild, feral and wrong, almost euphoric.
With what all I could only recognise as relief.
BANG.
I was barely aware of the gunshot.
The bullet went straight through his head, the winged boy hitting the ground.
Dead.
I saw the blood stemming around him in a halo before the bleeding pool faltered, seeping back inside his head.
Like rewinding a VCR.
Wren was dead, and then he was alive.
Wren’s body contorted, his chest inflating.
His gasp for air was painful, strangled, eyes opening wide.
Terrified.
“You fucking idiot.”
Jude’s voice sent me twisting around.
My cousin stood in the exact same robes he wore as a child.
The world tipped off kilter, and I was on my knees, then my stomach.
I sunk to the floor, my thoughts swimming.
Jude’s murmur followed me, creeping into the dark.
“I told you not to come home.”
I can't remember how long I was unconscious for.
When I woke, I was dressed in an evening gown, a dress that used to be my mother’s.
My vision cleared, and I found myself sitting in an unfamiliar room resembling an abandoned swimming hall.
The pool itself was empty, the bottom stained revealing scarlet.
There were symbols carved into each tile.
Like a game.
“Sit up straight, Charlotte.”
I was sitting at a banquet.
Jude was in front of me, sipping on wine.
He caught my eye for half a second before averting his gaze.
At the far end of the table sat my aunt May.
Kissing the rim of her glass, her smile was twisted.
“I've been waiting so long to give you your birthday presents, Charlotte. Your memories should be returning soon.”
“Mom.” Jude muttered, hiding behind his glass. “Calm down. You're embarrassing yourself.”
Ignoring my cousin, May tapped her glass with a fork, and in walked my birthday presents.
No, dragged.
By their hair.
Wren Oliver, the dead boy, was in fact my aunt's prisoner.
Behind him, was the girl who looked so much like Lily.
I think that's why my aunt chose her.
Aunt May cleared her throat.
“For a long time, our family has lived among creatures who live in the forest you played inside. In exchange for keeping this town safe, they only ask for small favors. Wayward children who disappear into the woods are good enough payment. Charlie, you and your siblings do not share our inheritance. Your mother never wanted fae children. She wanted you to be human.”
Aunt May’s smile faded.
“After losing my sister, and my niece and nephew, I made a deal to give my last surviving niece 100 years of life.”
Her words were white noise, my gaze glued to my birthday presents. I couldn't call them human anymore.
I couldn't call Wren human, when his face was so beautifully grotesque, painfully hypnotising.
The monstrous things sticking from twin slits in his back were supposed to be wings, except they looked wrong, cruelly protruding from his exposed spine. Under the influence of alcohol earlier, the girl made me smile.
Her wings, to me, looked like one of a real fairy.
In reality, they were torn and shredded apart, bigger than the girl herself.
When she dropped onto her stomach, she was dragged back to her feet, her knees buckling under the weight. Her tiara of flowers and bone looked pretty to me when I saw her on the stairs.
Now, though, I could see the pearly white of a human child's skull forced onto her head, dead flowers threaded through cavernous, gaping eye sockets.
The two of them were violently shoved into the empty pool.
“Jude. Please demonstrate, sweetheart.”
Jude stood, pulling out a gun, and aiming it at the winged girl.
BANG.
The girl’s body hit the tiles, her blood seeping across stained white.
“Now, of course, our king did not give you life for free.” May continued.
“The King demanded a debt, as well as two heirs to join him in his court once your hundred years were complete.”
Her lips quirked into a smile.
“The king is smart. If a child cannot be stolen from the human world, they can, however, be made, moulded and shaped from their human forms, skinned of their humanity through their suffering, leaving a hollowed out shell in the child's place.” She was speaking so casually, ignoring Wren’s whimpers.
“The conversion takes a while. 100 years to birth a fully blooded fae heir, who will lose their human memories, in preparation to join their new family.”
Jude shot Wren in the chest, his eyes empty.
This time, he dropped his weapon, using finger-guns instead.
“Bang.” He deadpanned.
Then the neck.
I watched Wren come back to life, and then die.
Over and over again.
I think at one point, he screamed and cried.
But not now.
He was their puppet on display, dancing for their entertainment.
Half lidded eyes drowned in oblivion found mine, and I understood his hatred.
Before he was shot again.
Stabbed.
Branded and burned, and ripped apart.
At some point, I screamed at them to stop. I couldn't breathe, slamming my hands over my ears and begging them.
Aunt May didn't listen, ordering for my hands to be tied down.
“The King required two human sacrifices to suffer in your place.” She concluded. “For one hundred years.”
Aunt May’s smile was suddenly sad, and she lifted her glass in a toast.
I was watching their blood trickle down each tile in the pool, like every death, every time they suffered, my body became progressively less human.
I felt disgusting. I wasn't supposed to be alive. Every single year of my life, every breath I had taken, was stolen.
Aunt May nodded at me, her lips forming a proud smile. She stood up, and was handed a sacrificial knife.
Climbing into the swimming pool herself, she strode over to Wren.
The boy slumped to the floor, trembling, his knees against his chest.
Aunt May grabbed him by the hair, forcing his head up, and sliced the blade across his throat.
His eyes flicked to me, and I swore he smiled.
Spots of red dotted yellowing tiles, a river trickling under my aunt's heels.
“Happy 78th birthday, Charlotte.”
Last night ended with me being locked in my room.
It's been almost 15 hours, and the door is still locked. Please help me. I'm fucking terrified of what my aunt is planning.
I can't stop shgajing. FycjbfucibFUCK
If she is telling the truth, I shouldn't be here, right??
And I can't stop thinking.
Is Wren Oliver trying to kill me, or himself?

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Ignis Purgatorius
What's up guys! Happy Mother's Day! It's your friendly Genshin overthinker Inotia King. As always before we begin I just want to make sure new readers have checked out my first topic which is the basis for all my theories. So if you haven't checked that out yet please click here.
And what better time than Mother's Day to talk about a Father?
The Arlecchino Character Quest seems to be a continuation of both things I didn't enjoy about the Fontaine story so far and also things related to earlier regions that fall in line with my poetry theory. Let's talk about that.
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Easy stuff first. In the story we meet Clervie and her mother Crucabena. I think the Genshin wiki already noted this but these names are actually Irish or Welsh mythological figures. But it's just a reference for now likely because the real story is weird. Clervie is actually fine but Crucabena had a son Mordfran who was ugly so she decided to have slaves create a wisdom potion for him so he could rely on his intelligence over his looks. For some reason though her potion was mostly poison and only the first three drops of it were the wisdom potion. As it happens boiling liquids can spill over and that means the people working on the brew can get burned by random splatters. If you've ever cooked soup before you know what I mean. Anyway Crucabena didn't realize this and so it happened and the person to be burned was Gwion. What's most people's first instinct when they get burned by a little hot soup? Put the wound up to your mouth. Gwion did just that, drank the drops that had burned him and became smart. Crucabena then got pissed and chased him around and somehow wisdom potion meant shapeshifting powers in this story so they did that a bunch and then finally she caught him. The end.
I bring that up not just to say that the story we got only used their names but also that maybe one day we will in fact get a Mordfran or even a Gwion. Genshin tends not to use cultural references superficially and I mean all we know is that Arlecchino killed Clervie and then Crucabena. It's entirely possible to come up with a follow-up where Crucabena actually trained a previous "king" or maybe she actually did have a son and she showed favoritism to him thus sparing him from the House while bringing Clervie in. One day Mordfran could want to take revenge for his mother or maybe Pantalone and Pulcinella will use him to take revenge on Arlecchino since she said she'd deal with them if they took Project Stuzha too far. The sky's the limit on what they could do with this.
On the opposite end though is Arlecchino's own name. Peruere just means to consume by flame in Latin. So it's just a really simple reference to literally what Arlecchino's power is.
Side Note: There's another reference to Irish and Welsh mythology here. The location of the old House of the Hearth? It's on Mount Esus. Esus is the Celtic God of Power worshipped by Gaul and Brittania. Actually Esus has been likened to Ares or Mars. That's perfect for Arlecchino. It's also perfect for anything to do with the Fatui, the Tsaritsa and their eventual war against Celestia. There's also another Celtic god Teutates or the God of Tribes that has been related to Mercury. Both of these Roman gods are part of the Seven Classical Planets which I've theorized before as relating to Phanes and the shining shades.
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Which brings me to Project Stuzha. Stuzha or стужа is just Russian for severe cold. This is a one to one translation from Chinese 严冬计划 yandongjihua or "Operation Severe Cold."
Side Note: Cтужа actually comes from the old Russian for just cold which is really funny because it's spelled like "stud" lol. Even funnier when you find out this word came from the Proto-slavic "studen" just one letter off from student. That's essentially what Arlecchino's kids are to her. Also the Fatui themselves indoctrinate. Pierro enlisted Signora through indoctrination. Best to get 'em young lol
Now what is this operation and what are the connotations? Well as it involves Regrator or Pantalone I already had him pegged for a major operation. Now would that be it? I don't know. I highly doubt the Tsaritsa would condone a plan like this considering her as yet unrevealed contract with Morax. However, the Fatui aren't necessarily loyal to her. We already know for sure that Arlecchino isn't. Same goes for Scaramouche. Also with Snezhnaya's own chapter waiting in the wings it would be a good way to raise tensions and send the region into the downward spiral that would work thematically with the Russian Revolution that it's inspired by.
The next thing about this is that Pulcinella is involved and it's already shown that Arlecchino works under him despite being Fourth. In my old Fontaine predictions, that was a driving force for what I came up with. Back then Arlecchino was Tenth and Pulcinella was Fifth so I proposed that despite her promotion to Fourth that it was just for show to ingratiate her to him. That said the story showed that she is already antagonistic towards him and has shown herself to be far more intuitive to be manipulated by him.
Next there's this:
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Yeah hate to break it to you Lyney but they did already work together. Back in Sumeru, Arlecchino had a few House members stationed to help Dottore's Aranara scheme that didn't end up panning out. He didn't care about them at all of course but that doesn't discount Arlecchino of having directly supported his operation. And we know they weren't directly under Dottore because the only one that was was Oleg and he was trying to claim all the glory for himself, even going so far as to insult his fellow House member Trofin.
Speaking of which there's a really frightening implication this quest brought up isn't there? They still mentioned that Arlecchino and Dottore definitely worked together on another project. Who helped Arlecchino get her flames into a potion? That means there's not a chance in hell Dottore didn't hoard bottles of the stuff himself. I think it's a sure bet he's got those "searing pain" memory wipe potions and he'll definitely use them in the future. I wouldn't be surprised if some horribly maimed person shows up in the future and can't remember what happened to them and as we investigate it becomes clear who was responsible. Also there might be a far future event/quest where Dottore tries to use the potion on the Traveler and that'll expand on their Descender attributes as their memories can't be wiped away even with crazy Abyss-powered Archon Residue human experiment by-products. (I'll explain later.)
Three possible stories to spawn from this quest. That's the quality of miHoYo storytelling I'm more used to. We need more of this and definitely burn that Archon Quest in a fire, a memory-erasing Cinder of Two Worlds fire.
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The wiki is at it again now making the statement that Arlecchino's not Fontainian but actually Khaenri'ahn! Now of course we do know she isn't Fontainian but it's a stretch to state that she's suddenly Khaenri'ahn. The only reason and one which isn't even cited is that Arlecchino is afflicted with something that makes her dream of a crimson moon. As we knew from as far back as Dainsleif's reveal teaser from the end of the CBT era, Khaenri'ah was related to a crimson moon and a black sun where the moon would take revenge on the sun. (Black Sun was localized as Eclipse Dynasty but the new information revealed that to be another poor translation. New references keep referring to a black colored sun and not an eclipsed one.) Anyway it wasn't quite clear back then but thanks to the release of Perinheri we know the reason for the specific wording in the Dainsleif teaser. Essentially the Black Sun Dynasty usurped the Crimson Moon Dynasty so supposedly it will take its revenge one day. Now here's the part where Arlecchino doesn't have to be Khaenri'ahn just to have this curse. A "crimson moon" is the moon that was hanging over Khaenri'ah during the Cataclysm. This was when Rhinedottir created an army of Abyssal creatures on the order of the Sinner possibly in an attempt at freeing it. (It was also in service of the nigredo step of her attempt at the Magnum Opus.) All those signs point to the Abyss not Khaenri'ah. Khaenri'ah was just the dupe. So what is this moon really? Well according to Perinheri and one of Arlecchino's Voice-Overs it's actually some kind of creature but it could also be one of the moon sisters. Either way it's related again to the Abyss. It's the "Abyssal Moon" if you'd like.
Long story short, Arlecchino's Balemoon Bloodfire is likely just some other manifestation of the Abyss and has nothing to do with Khaenri'ah. The other much more obvious sign that she's not Khaenri'ahn is her eyes. Not sure how the wiki missed that but she's got unique X-eyes not the primogem eyes of every single Khaenri'ahn, pure blood or not. No primogem eyes, no Khaenri'ah. (But in terms of the Dainsleif prophecy X-eyes works well. Look at Arlecchino's drops. There's one where a red X is placed over a gray primogem shape. "The eclipse is swallowed by the crimson moon." This drop is also called "Denial and Judgment." There are several implications to draw from that.)
Side Note: Yes I realize Arlecchino has a Voice-Over where Pierro literally tells her she's of the "Crimson Moon bloodline" that he had thought should be extinct. Guess what guys? Bringing out my old friend, localization issues. Now this one I can't fault the localization team for. The term used was 血脉 and on the surface it does translate well to bloodlines. But there's a culture issue. When we think of bloodlines we just think of old timey genetics, that the blood flowing through your veins is that of your father's. There is some of that in China too but not in the same way. (except in say Hong Kong) Instead when 血脉 is used in a deeper sense, like say poetry or classical literature I'd say a better translation would be legacy. There are phrases like "our community is our bloodline" or "bloodlines flow like rivers, carrying with it all our memories and dreams." I think Pierro was also referring to it in this sense, given he advised Arlecchino to read Perinheri which is part of the legacy of the Crimson Moon era of Khaenri'ah including that they adopted non-Khaenri'ahns.
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Going back to her affliction though, it's curious right? This isn't the first time we've seen a fire that would burn its user if they lost control of it and fire taking the place of blood. Signora also had this problem. This exact problem. And as I had pointed out a long time ago, so did Collei. Isn't it also curious that the Character Quest brought up the Doctor and making deals with the orphanage? What was Collei again? Orphan. Why did she have that black fire ability again? Dottore experiments. So in the story who helped Arlecchino bottle up her Bloodfire? Dottore. And finally, though it might just be aesthetic if you look at Signora's pose in her Ember Witch form and then Arlecchino's Cinder form they are both facing the same way, same red motif, they have wings, open chest outfit and fire-related names ember and cinder.
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I have a sneaking suspicion this is miHoYo trying to beat us over the head that Arlecchino, Signora and Collei were all in the same boat. They are orphans that were tossed out by their families and experimented on by Dottore while he was still on his Delusion Project kick. Collei was probably his last "class" of experiments because her case got the attention of both Mondstadt and Sumeru and the Fatui couldn't be having that. The manhua itself showed the diplomatic repercussions Snezhnaya paid for Collei. But before that was Arlecchino and before her was Signora. (we can see Signora's already an adult by the time Perrie killed Crucabena) But wait, didn't Collei get her fire powers from the Archon Residue in Crystal Marrow? Well I have this theory right? Now if we take that theory and add it to this theory then the Abyss connection becomes clear. All you'd need is to use Archon Residue specific to those fallen during the Nibelung conflict and they'd be afflicted with the Abyss too.
Side Note 1: There's a little interesting note too between Arlecchino and Signora. I brought this up when I was theorizing about Arlecchino back in her first mention in The Very Special Fortune Slip World Quest. Signora is not a normal character in the commedia dell'arte. She was developed by combining the physicality of Capitano with the sex appeal of Columbina. (This is why I didn't predict that we'd get a Columbina Harbinger too and instead thought the final one would be Brighella. Scara is also a form of Capitano.) Anyway Arlecchino is supposed to be smitten with Columbina and who was the only Harbinger to feel bad for Signora's death? That's now expanded to be due to Arlecchino's sympathy for orphans but even so their many parallels are interesting. (this is furthered along by Arlecchino's Voice-Over that Signora was one of the first Harbingers she got to know, the other of course being Pierro and though superficial Signora appealed to the orphans at the House and Arlecchino sympathized with her)
Side Note 2: Another interesting connection between those two is that while they both have Delusions their true powers come from their experimental ones. Signora needed her Delusion to dampen her Pyro abilities and Arlecchino cherishes her Pyro Vision over her Delusion and is shown to be making use out of her Bloodfire curse instead of anything to do with her Delusion.
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Ok now for nitpicks!
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In my predictions (and then subsequently my Archon Quest revision) I had Pulcinella manipulate Arlecchino's hatred of the aristocracy and fear of the prophecy harming her home. So on the one hand I am really impressed. I honestly thought she was a Fontainian and the way they portrayed her desire to resolve the prophecy made it feel genuine (which it still technically was just not in relation to her herself) so I appreciate that level of subterfuge. Thinking this whole time that she was a Fontainian only for her to pull the wool over our eyes now after the whole story already ended would have been perfect for her character.
But just like so many other cool things miHoYo had with the Fontaine story they didn't have all their bases covered. It was great when we found out Fontaine had zero human people and everybody was actually an Oceanid. But then you run into the problem of how did people have normal human illnesses then? And how did they keep having those illnesses even after Neuvillette changed them from Oceanids to real humans. In the same way Arlecchino's lie wouldn't have worked in the context of Fontaine's story. Neuvillette's been in Fontaine for four hundred years. That's far longer than Arlecchino's been alive. If she wasn't a Fontainian and claimed to be one why wouldn't a dragon realize this? Yes we had the dialogue from him that he can't read Arlecchino's emotions. (also weird since he claimed to be attuned to emotions for some reason when even by Act II he didn't know Callas and Vacher's motivations which were brought on by the most primal of human emotions lol) But regardless of whether or not he can read her emotions there is not a single chance that he wouldn't have detected that she's not an Oceanid. He's told us he has full control over water including that of the Primordial Sea so when he was able to turn all Fontainians into real humans in one fell swoop he would have noticed she wasn't among those he changed. (That is also why I took serious issue with making Neuvillette a full dragon with full control over even the Primordial Sea. Either he purposely made the Fontainians with defects, kept their illnesses from back when they were elementals, purposely didn't inform us that Arlecchino was lying or he's just an incompetent dragon.)
Great idea. Not the best delivery. But in this case I call it a nitpick since most of this story was far and away better than the Fontaine Archon Quest.
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This is another little nitpick. I get what they were going for. They wanted a way to show that Arlecchino wasn't murdering her children. But holy coincidences Batman how many things had to play out just right for that to happen? I mean we had to have seen the Horrer mugshot meaning Lyney just had to happen to give us the stack of people with him in it. Otherwise if anybody else had that stack they would have just flipped through it without paying attention. Also in regards to paying attention, Paimon needed to take interest in that scar. Otherwise if she for example took interest in Lapouyade's name then say bye bye to that reveal. Out of all the times we've gone to the Palais Mermonia why today of all days at this time did we encounter Horrer? And also why was he a klutz? Also why was he a klutz and just happened to run straight into us out of all the other people there at the time? So many stars had to align just right to give us this clue about Arlecchino's endgame.
So like I tend to do, there was a way for miHoYo to have this reveal without needing this much Deus Ex Machina. Just have an insider working behind the scenes. We see by the end that Arlecchino was fine revealing her flame memory wipe potion thing. Given how there was an Execution List it should mean somebody was present for it. You could even just make Freminet that insider given what we see of him in the late stages of the quest. Let's say Arlecchino was trying to convey these secrets to both the Traveler and to Lyney, Lyney as more training to set him up as her replacement. Freminet would be more than willing to help with that so everything we see of him could still play out exactly the same (except that Lyney would eat his smug words about Freminet being bad at lying) and then it would be revealed that Freminet had coaxed Horrer to deliver papers around the Palais Mermonia at the right time and staged his and the Traveler's collision course. Boom, not only do you get the same reveal but Freminet gets some juicy character development on top!
Also, "O the Horrer!" Come on you know you were all thinking it when you saw that.
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Final nitpick. In this quest we're told that Arlecchino views losing memories as being no different than death. That's great. That really fits with how Genshin works as I've brought up many times already. But in the context of this story that's definitely not how it's played out. While Arlecchino states that she values memories as the same as a life what she actually uses it for is to save the lives of her disobedient children. We're shown this as her mercy and that she's allowing these kids to go off on their merry way and lead new lives. So problem. Yes it's nice that she's doing this. I'm sure all of us have seen this trope in fiction before. "I just cut off your ponytail. That ponytail represents the version of you that killed my family. Now that person is dead" that kind of nonsense to prop up a protagonist. But in the context of Genshin what she said is much more true. Memories include our experiences and under Gnosticism those experiences allow for the possibility of attaining gnosis one day. Removing those memories is actually like damning a person to death because it removes their progress. I brought up the hylic classification of people under Gnosticism before. These people are wholly physical and can't conceptualize anything meaning they can't ever attain gnosis. In Genshin those are the hilichurls, cursed to be "hill people" and unable to even return to the natural cycle of rebirth. Think about it from the opposite end too. Allogenes in this game represent the pneumatic people or those closest to attaining gnosis. In Inazuma we saw that once a Vision is stripped from these allogenes they lose their memories of what gave them that Vision, what gave them their chance at gnosis. So yeah, what this is is the same as my first nitpick with this story. It sounds nice on paper in any typical fiction but in Genshin it really is a horrible thing.
But on the flip side what this does is ruin Arlecchino's intimidating stature. The thing is she's a pushover. If you read her Character Stories there's one about how some of her kids grow up and want normal adolescent things like jewelry. Sometimes they screw up and get caught because their jewelry gets in the way. The story goes on to make it sound like Arlecchino would punish the kid but it turns out she just went out of her way to further train them to be careful of their jewelry on future missions. When you have stuff like that and what we saw in the story, it makes you wonder why anybody in the House would be afraid of her. Sure the youngest who had never seen her use her memory wipe potion thing might be under the impression she kills them but then what about the jewelry thing? It just wouldn't make sense for anybody to fear her to the extent we saw unless she had done something severe but then that might tarnish this protagonist image of her that miHoYo's fostered with the Archon Quest and this Character Quest not to mention her backstory anime. In this case I don't even think I could come up with a way for them to have their cake and eat it too. If she's meant to be fearsome then she needs to do fearsome things and if she doesn't then it doesn't make sense her kids would fear her as if she does.
Side Note: I suppose I should bring up my version then. Well she's much more antagonistic. While she lied when she said she only used Lyney and the children as tools she'd still be harsh on them and punish accordingly which produces their fear. Again my version of her is flawed; she honestly wants what's best for her kids but her methods are unusually cruel. This is based on her own experiences. It's like Batman (I keep going back to that example) and Robin. While any psychologist could tell you training up a ten year old to fight crime is a bad idea, Bruce Wayne saved his sanity by doing it so he believes it's a good way to nurture traumatized kids like himself. And we have Jason Todd when it comes to him. Therefore my Arlecchino would have had her own Jason Todds as well.
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So the last thing is taking Pierro's advice. I mean I referenced it already. Let's see what details Pierro was talking about with Perinheri.
The version of the name he went with is a reference to a real world story which is pretty much the whole thing of Vol.2. And remember how I've been talking about facts vs fiction? At the end of Vol.2 we find out that a writer came up with this ending and not the archaeologist on hand. So yes, the Angelica stuff is probably the part Pierro said was specious. The details come in Vol.1 where we get our titular characters.
Hleobrant is comprised of Proto-Germanic words hleo and brant which mean shelter and towering so Hleobrant could symbolize a defensive tower. So while accurate maybe Pierro was trying to say they were allegorically accurate. Remember why the gods got angry at humanity? They were questioning them and had started building a tower to reach the heavens just to see if it was there. That is one to one with our real world's Tower of Babel. This was when our real world's "unified human civilization" was broken apart into scattered nations. Hleobrant could be an allegory for the degenerate humans who defied the gods. And his rival would then be on the side of the gods, Perinheri. (not necessarily the Celestia gods or even the Archons but possibly the higher power of Ananke, the Imaginary Tree) I couldn't find the meaning of Perinheri though. I tried looking into the original Chinese and as far as I can tell the name might reference a Ming Dynasty official named 裴纶. Perinheri uses 裴伦 for the Perin part and 伦 is a homophone for 纶. 裴纶 was dissatisfied with the government and we might be able to relate that to the "world order" of the time. As such he wrote the "Seven Principles." That one caught my eye. Then the heri part of the name is 埃里 which on its own would actually be the Chinese transcription of the Hebrew name Eli which means ascended. Just like the issue of Vol.2 possibly being fictional, the names being inaccurate was also noted at the end of Vol.2. It could be that Perinheri is an intentional mistranslation in English to throw us off. (but let me know if you guys found anything about what Perinheri could be instead) If this is the real reference then for Khaenri'ah to be dissatisfied with the current world order it makes sense for "Perinheri" to just be a placeholder name for a Descender, an "ascended" child to defy Celestia. (I think there are already theories suggesting Perinheri is a stand-in for our sibling, a "false Descender.")
The revelation about a Crimson Moon Dynasty preceding the known Black Sun Dynasty could also imply something new about the Cataclysm. We're told that the Rifthounds, Rhinedottir's Rifthounds that up until this point were said to be accidental creations by her, were actually around since the Crimson Moon Dynasty and then fell out of favor by the time of the Black Sun Dynasty which preferred technology, tech like the "Field Tillers" Dainsleif told us about. King Irmin was the last king of that dynasty which means that Rhinedottir's group might have been a cult loyal to the previous regime. Rhinedottir herself could be even older than we were told previously or she could just be an avid follower of the old order. Thus the "crimson moon" that's supposed to swallow the black sun could just be the Abyss Order. This would also mean Dainsleif is even more justified for his disdain of the gods because his Khaenri'ahns had been trying to repel the cult yet were still cursed alongside them by Celestia.
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In Summary:

• Crucabena and Clervie could be a launching point for miHoYo to create a Mordfran or Gwion enemy to Arlecchino.
• Project Stuzha could be a way to raise the stakes as we get closer to the Snezhnaya Chapter. The Fatui might be running the Pantalone operation in Liyue.
• Arlecchino and Dottore previously worked together in Sumeru. They are confirmed to have worked together to create Arlecchino's memory erasure potion which likely means Dottore has some as well. This opens up another path of stories for Dottore.
• Arlecchino is not Khaenri'ahn. Even Black Sun Khaenri'ahns are almost extinct never mind some even older dynasty of yore.
• Arlecchino, Signora and Collei likely gained their powers from the same source: Dottore. They all play out in similar ways as well with Arlecchino having the additional effect of burning memories.
• It was interesting to have Arlecchino say she's not Fontainian but her reason for doing so before is undermined thanks to Neuvillette's presence. He would have known she was lying and given the stakes would have acted on it.
• Too many coincidences had to occur to reveal that Arlecchino hadn't executed anyone. All that needed to be changed was to have Freminet in on the operation and helping Arlecchino the whole time which would also develop his character.
• Arlecchino's non-lethal execution is played as a mercy but in the context of Genshin Arlecchino's stated opinion about it rather than her actual belief holds true. It really is an execution to destroy a person's memories. Those memories made them who they were on their path towards the gnosis.
• However in context of general fiction this actually makes the imposing Knave look more like a pushover. She hasn't actually committed to any strict punishment despite all her talk about enforcing the rules of the House.
• Perinheri could be an allegorical account of Khaenri'ah's tradition of waiting for and then following a Descender.
• Rhinedottir could have been a survivor of the Crimson Moon Dynasty of Khaenri'ah or just a follower of the old traditions and the Abyss Order would then be the dynasty's indirect legacy and thus the "crimson moon" from the Dainsleif prophecy.
• In this case it would mean Rhinedottir's forces were only a cult of extremists and the contemporary Khaenri'ahns would have all been opposed to them. Therefore it further justifies Dainsleif's anger at the gods for cursing all Khaenri'ahns indiscriminately.

Background: Nigerian. His father was Chief Hope Harriman, described as a political presence, philanthropist, businessman, and a ‘founding father of modern Nigeria.
His uncle, Leslie O. Harriman, was a Permanent Representative of Nigeria to the UN; before that, Nigeria’s Ambassador to Kenya and Uganda.
There is a TON of oil money in Nigeria, which dovetails the business interests (like Misan’s former business partner, Boris Becker).
Misan Harriman got Borris Becker to invest his millions in Nigerian oil. A deal that flopped for Becker.
https://archive.ph/MMLKH
https://archive.ph/QOyIa
(Post is being finicky with pics and screen shots. Please add additional proof in comments below.)
Please upvote so these details don’t get lost in all the other posts about the Nigeria trip. Thank you.
1. 2013 - November. Meg attends the Global Gift Gala in London with Oliver Cheshire. Stays at Soho House (posts on her Instagram).
https://archive.ph/2023.10.01-225241/https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-5655169/amp/2013-footage-Meghan-Markle-sees-say-wants-stick-London.html
2. 2013 - November. Tatler magazine (UK) publishes an article about all the Nigerian wealth in and around London’s VIP social scene. Emphasises their millionaire status, including connections to brands like Cartier.
Misan Harriman is specifically mentioned by name. Notes he’s been hanging out at exclusive clubs mentioned below.
https://archive.ph/2023.10.01-205522/https://www.tatler.com/article/the-nigerians-have-arrived
Exclusive members club at 5 Hertford Street. Annabel’s, George, also exclusive private members clubs owned by the same owner.
https://archive.ph/2023.10.01-192616/https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-10364269/amp/Inside-one-Londons-secretive-private-members-club.html
2014 - May. Markus Anderson partying in London with Edward Enninful.
3. 2014 - November. By now, Meghan and Misan are friends. She’s posted about him on the TiG by name.
Misan only ever states that he met Meg “at a charity event in London” during this past period.
According to Bower, Meg reaches out to Misan begging to be introduced to Boris Becker (his business partner) in order to secure her a speaking spot at One Young World in order to help launch her on the elite charity circuit. Boris Becker who invested - and lost - millions in Nigerian oil. In which Misan’s father and uncle are heavily politically and business-wise invested.
Boris’s agent? Gina Nelthorpe-Crowne. For many years, until around 2021, she was frequently pictured with Meg and described as a “friend and business advisor.”
Who did Gina also work for? Ralph Lauren. The same Ralph Lauren that sponsored Wimbledon.
4. 2016 - June 30- July 3.Meg is in London for Wimbledon, pictured wearing Ralph Lauren, to cheer on Serena, while staying at Soho House. (not July 4th as she conveniently backdates it for American independence narrative). This is also her “first” date with Harry. See my other post for fact checking that (confirmed they were in each other’s Instagram DMs before that. She slid into his.)
5. 2016 - Missan and Meg hang out at a Mayfair private member’s club at 5 Hertford Street. He is NOT a photographer at this point, he’s in ‘finance’’. Details? According to Finding Freedom, this was THE NIGHT BEFORE her “first” date with Harry. Who can look up it’s name?
https://archive.ph/QOyIa
6. 2016 - Missan launches What We See. This article also repeats that Meg told Misan he introduced her to the mutual friend who introduced her to Harry, implying Misha Nonoo, which is false.
https://archive.ph/I58Gz
7. 2017- Met his wife, Camilla Holstrom. SHE WAS A SWEDISH PHOTOGRAPHER. Can’t seem to find a marriage date for them, just a vague sense of a ‘private’ wedding, and their first daughter was born in 2019. (He applauds her photo at age 5 in 2023). Meaning she would have been pregnant in 2018. She was the one who taught him about photography; it’s mythology that he’s self taught. He just was in the right place, at the right time, with the right racial background, for the BLM protests photographer fame.
https://archive.ph/clQok
8. 2018 - Missan attends Harry and Meg’s wedding.
9. 2019 - Missan is commissioned as the photographer for Meg’s guest editor of British Vogue.
10. 2019 - Missan shoots Beatrice and Edward’s engagement photos. Interesting tidbits from this biographical article on him is that he allegedly introduced Meg to the the “mutual friend” who introduced her to Harry. We know this is false. Meg knew Misha Nonoo via Markus back from Art Basel in Miami in 2014. Maybe Meg lied to him (unless he’s referring to Gina M-C.)
https://archive.ph/QOyIa
11. 2020 - Meg contacts Edward Enniful of British Vogue about guest editing their Sept issue. Misan Harriman is recruited as the photographer.
12. 2020 - full profile of Misan’s BLM shots. Interesting that some of the earlier ones appear to be shared credit with his photographer wife. Know where it was published? Soho House website. Now why would that be?
https://archive.ph/1Lmil
13. Valentine’s Day, 2021 - Missan’s black and white Lilibet pregnancy announcement photo drops. It was taken from an IPad while he is in Britain. He photoshops the symbolic ‘tree of life’ into the background. The date matters: Diana announced her pregnancy with Harry Valentine’s Day, 1984. Meg is roughly 24 weeks pregnant in them, or less (depending when it was shot), based on Lili’s birthday.
https://archive.ph/QOyIa
14. 2021 - appointed the Southbank Centre Chair.
https://archive.ph/21LL8
15. 2022 - March, Misan takes pics of Elton John’s Oscar Party. Know who wasn’t invited? Godson Harry and Meg. Ouch.
https://archive.ph/LzZRg
16. 2022 - March, Edward Enninful of British Vogue gets married. He was the behind Meg’s 2019 guest editor of British Vogue. Missan Harriman was the hot BLM photographer and shot the photos for it. But BOTH MEG AND MISAN weren’t invited to the wedding, despite the many, many, celebs her were. Makes you wonder why? Piece de résistance? Hosted by the Marchioness of Bath, the biracial beauty Emma Thynn. Very clearly Meg wasn’t invited.
https://archive.ph/dVmd9
17. 2022 - April. Misan is invited to the Invictus Games in Amsterdam to take photos by Harry and Meg.
https://archive.ph/LzZRg
18. 2022 - May, Mayfair in London. Elton John’s AIDS Foundation fundraising event. It appears Misan wasn’t there, but there are black and white pics release from the event in his style. Know who was invited? Enninful. Know who wasn’t? Harry and Meg, yet again. Interesting as well that Achewell has not donated to Elton’s charity, especially with a cause so close to Diana’s heart as well.
https://archive.ph/ofhKn
19. 2022 - June 4. Misan and his family are at Lilibet’s first birthday at Frogmore. His children had their faces painted earlier in the day at the Platinum Jubilee celebrations (why Archie and Lili’s aren’t painted). The only other guests are paid vendors; it’s why the only other photo is of Meg with the cake lady. Meg is so incensed they fly back to the US June 5th, skipping the Platinum Jubilee concert entirely.
https://archive.ph/LzZRg
*Earlier, there are reports that Harry and Meg want their “private photographer” they have with them to take photos of ‘Lilibet meets Lilibet.’ * This request is firmly denied by the Palace, as that would mean that Harry, Meg, and/or Missan than own the distribution and copyright rights.
20. 2022 - October. Meghan Markle reveals on Archetypes that she is 43% Nigerian and ‘has known that for a few years.’
https://archive.ph/2023.12.18-155117/https://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/royal-family/meghan-markle-nigerian-archetypes-podcast-b2210133.html
43% is exactly the same percentage written about in an earlier article by Georgina Lawton.
https://archive.ph/wip/f4UCs
21. 2022 - November. Confirmation that Misan Harriman is connected to Ngozi. The woman who accused Lady Susan Hussey of racism at a Palace event. Ngozi is a chosen name, relatively recent in her life. The clothing worn to the event was her of version of ‘African’ clothing as was a mix mash of different groups, not solely Nigerian.
Also interesting that Ngozi was a guest of another invitee; she wasn’t invited herself.
Also of note is Lady Susan Hussey:

• was in the inner circle of QEII for decades
• more recently was serving the same role for Camilla
• is William’s godmother
• was initially tasked with helping Meg acclimate into Royal life

https://archive.ph/2022.12.03-055041/https://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-11486173/Who-Lady-Susan-Hussey-Ngozi-Fulani-race-row.html
What else?
2022, when the Palace incident occurred is when Ngozi’s charity, Sister Space (she founded it in 2015) was being INVESTIGATED by the Charities Commission for financial irregularities.
https://archive.ph/2022.12.14-144148/https://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-11536883/Watchdog-assessing-claims-against-palace-race-row-accusers-charity-string-allegations.html
She stepped down from it in 2023.
22. 2023- his film, The After, won Best Live Action award from the Hollyshorts Film Festival. As such, it automatically gets an Oscar nomination this year. Bet there will be congrats from Meg, and predicting she will “coproduce” a similar project shortly to help her own Oscar quest. Rumored Meg is after an EGOT, but in the ‘easier’ categories, like this one for an Oscar, spoken word for a Grammy (ie reading her biography, whispers that the plan was for Harry to be mom instead with Spare), Emmy (was supposed to be either their Netflix doc or the Oprah interview, haha), and Tony (her Roxie Hart celeb summer stint on Broadway in the distant future).
23. 2023 - October. Special ‘behind the scenes’ photos of Harry and Meg (NOT the veterans, of course) are released two weeks after the Invictus Games in Germany wrap up. Who was the photographer that was with them? Why Misan Harriman, of course. (Plus you have to laugh that it’s Yahoo Finance that keeps reporting on Harry/Meg. Wonder who the friend is Omid still has over in that Dept. from his days as a Royal reporter for Yahoo).
https://archive.ph/iaYSb
24. 2024 - May. Of course Harry and Meg are on an ‘official’ visit to Nigeria currently with Misan Harriman.
Follow the $$$.

stop hating on the tour. This is one of the only times I’ve genuinely been annoyed with fans hating on Mel because if people wanna hate or critique her that is 100% their opinion!! I’ve been one of the people giving those critiques! But oh my god! I really don’t know why so many people are upset with the tour or the MV like just say you don’t understand her art.
even if a certain song didn’t play or if it was shorter than your liking she played nearly 30 songs with full choreo, constant moving, visuals (for 2 hours straight) and she will be continuing to for the next 2 or so months. Not to mention more lore, and an entire music video (that was entirely 3D edited and barely had her real body in it mind you). But it’s no biggie and we can just keep being entitled!
ART IS A LUXURY
Melanie is really a genius. And you can tell this took thought. You can’t be genuinely mad that she didn’t fit in a song you loved when most of these choices were based on stats and Melanie’s own choice!! Are we forgetting that she made this story? And all the music?
Are we forgetting she can do whatever the fuck she pleases with her shows??
I was a bit bummed I didn’t hear cake and orange juice. But did I let that ruin my perception of the show? No!!!
she really did everything right with this and it’s a perfect closure for crybaby. It’s crazy how people can only see the negatives in this show.
The music video is extremely symbolic and for the people saying “I understand and love her art but wtf is this” you… don’t? It’s that simple LOL
just pls stop being so narrow minded

Popping up in a voodoo shop in New Orleans, a demon made of burlap made his way to the counter. His inky eyes glittered with excitement at my presence, a couple of his pins popping out. Fishing around the pocket of my jet black summer dress, a box of giant pins grazed against my fingertips. Setting the pins on the counter, Wisty shifted uncomfortably behind me. The voodoo doll demon's short stature had me smiling to myself. Mr. Dolls was a demon with the pension for the simple things.
“How is it going, Mr. Dolls?” I chirped cheerfully, hoping to get access into the Dark Market for a few supplies to seal those reapers into their final resting place. Feathers fluttered onto my shoulder, his beak kissing my cheek. Fluffing the top of his head, Mr. Dolls tucking them underneath the desk. Taking in all the basic supplies for any spell on the worn shelves, his hand slid over a rusting skeleton key. How long has it been since I visited the market?
“Have fun!” He bellowed in his deep southern accent, a Cheshire Cat grin spreading ear to ear with the peck to his cheek. A black iron door appeared in front of us, the brass knob turning on its own. Crossing the threshold, the door creaked shut behind us. A sea of rundown buildings greeted me, the stands lined with every magical tool and herb one could need. Fixing his black band t-shirt and ripped jeans, something told me that he felt out of place. Most of the people in the market wore clothing similar to ours, his fraying nerves relaxing visibly. Something reeked, my eyes scanning the chaos bustling about in front of me. Chewing on my lips, a tap on Feathers’ head sent him ahead to check things out. Hooking my elbow around his, his real smile lit up his features. Moving from stand to stand, ingredients were soon filling up my worn leather bag. A scream had our heads snapping in its direction, a corrupt reaper seconds from decapitating a random witch. Shoving the bag into Wisty’s chest, my fingers plucked my fans from my boot. Flicking them to their full length, shocked gasps passed like silent whispers the moment I pushed off the cobblestone street. Ruby moonlight bathed me, the shadowy reaper glancing up at me. Spinning my fans around my wrist, a blast of wind had him crashing into a pile of bricks. Landing gracefully, the shoppers scurried into the nearest buildings. Cart owners rolled their mobile shops into the closest alleyway, their livelihood depending on that alone. Admiring the amount of space, the rogue reaper rose to his feet with a hiss. Spinning his shadow scythe over his head, the reaper was so far gone that words were no longer an option. Raising my fans in the attack position, this battle was going to sting like a bitch. Charging at me, my fans blocked his scythe. Kicking me in the stomach, several of my organs burst. Blood rained in the sky, a building catching me. Glancing down at my stomach, a whimper escaped my lips at the broken pipe impaling me. Peeling myself off, inky blood pooled on the top of my boots. Hiding behind the wall, the reaper was hopping towards me. Chains blocked his path, my body sliding down the wall. A small demon child cried behind her mother, a sympathetic smile leaving my lips. Plucking my pocket watch out of my boot, my concentration lingered on the pipe and wall. Spinning the top, everything repaired itself. Struggling to my feet, a new plan of attack needed to be found. Noting the bag of sand in the corner, my brow raised with a sly grin.
“May I borrow your bag of sand? I promise to buy you another one after the madness is over.” I requested politely, my head bowing in shame at my blood staining their carpet. “And perhaps a carpet as well.” Opening the window, their shock filled eyes followed me climbing out the window. Heaving myself onto the roof, my eyes scanned the vast market for a viable plan. Salem flew past my head, my arm catching him. Setting him down gingerly, no wounds were visible. Fishing around my boot, a healing potion grazed the tip of my fingers. Offering him the vial, his trembling hand gulped it down. Swaying slightly, the reaper punched the walls behind him.
“Any weaknesses?” I inquired with a rub on his shoulder, his head shaking. My worst fear had been confirmed, the reaper was well beyond the normal level. Checking to see if the bag was still there, Salem’s protest fell on deaf ears the moment I leapt onto the next roof. Landing next to me, his rage was his weakness. Keeping to the shadows, we were just over him. Jumping off, my loud landing had his head snapping in my direction.
“Is the little reaper done with his temper tantrum!” I teased with a defiant grin, his temper flaring. Crashing towards me, sand exploded the moment it hit the street. Pirouetting around his shadowy form, a swift kick had him flailing in air. Twirling around to pick up speed, a tornado whistled to life around me. Feathers floated into the howling funnel of wind, an abrupt stop had him trapped in the death trap. Feathers cut into his skin, my fingers curling around the pocket watch. Speeding up the tornado, his screams grew louder. Inky blood poured from my nose, the screams dying down. The tornado died down, a pile of ash remaining where the reaper once stood. A gang of demons crunched behind me, sand crunching as I spun on my heels. Cocking my head to the left, hidden horror hid underneath my confident smile at the blade being pressed to a kid’s throat. Couldn't one thing go right today, damn it!
“I suggest you let the little guy go.” I threatened icily, my patience wearing thin. “If you don’t, Death is going to rain down on you.” Pushing the kid towards me, his parents called him over. Masked gang members fussed with their simple onyx masks, the hooded sweatshirt and jeans throwing me off. The leader sauntered forward, his seven foot stature had me doubting myself for a few spare moments.
“It’s not like you are in charge of the universe or anything.” He retorted bitterly, his visible lips curling into a smile at my visible rage. “Oh shit! You are in charge of the universe. So you are the infamous Asphodel, the one to kill. Do you know that Master Skull has an impressive bounty on your head?” Scoffing with an eye roll, the information was all I needed to know. Master Skull needed time to recover from his withdrawals.
“Your bitch of a boss can fight me himself.” I snapped impatiently, spinning my fans in my palms. “Is the money worth you dying?” Leaning his head back, a hearty laugh poured from his lips. Gritting my teeth, his level of disrespect had my temper flaring visibly. Clenching my jaw, Wisty popped up by my side. Cracking his knuckles, his chains whipped around him. Respect burned in their eyes for him, another wave of fury crashing through me. Did I not look authoritative enough to garner respect?
“If you know what’s good for you, your asses should leave and never come back.” Wisty warned with a low growl in his throat, the gangster breaking out into a fit of laughter. “So plan B it is, eh?” Cocking the safety, a bullet whistled by my head. Chains blocked a barrage of bullets, the idiots chose death over living. Splitting up, stealth would be my friend. One of the stand owners pushed out a sack of ash, my fingers curling around the top. Tucking my pocket watch back into my boot, wits would be my way out once more. Scaling a building, the sheer impact would create an incredible fog on the street. Hanging it over the ledge, footfalls echoed behind me. Releasing the sack, time slowed during the descent. Spinning on my heels, the precise edge of my fan cut through a gang member’s neck with ease. Smashing the heel of my boot into his head until it resembled brain and bone stew, the sack hit the street. Leaping over the ledge, the cloud obscured my landing. Dancing through the ash, spin after spin had demon heads bouncing off of my boots. Crashing into Wisty, my breath hitched at how handsome he looked in the chaos. Kissing each other passionately, scarlet painted my cheeks upon the release of his spell. Getting back into the battle, about a dozen of them remained. Dodging the attacks with ease, my light footwork was proving to be my friend. Muddy blood sprayed my face with every slice, the bodies hitting our feet. Decaying to ash, one demon remained. Skidding into the nearest alleyway, Wisty smashed into me. Every ounce of breath hitched at how close he was, his crooked grin causing my heart to flutter wildly. Seconds from flirting with me, the leader’s voice had our heads snapping in his direction.
“Nice work. If I didn’t know who you were then you would be hired in a heartbeat. Most people die within ten minutes of meeting us.” He mused darkly, his body paced back and forth in the thick of the cloud. Something seemed off, the damn trick looking like an illusion. The energy shifted, copies appeared in every space. Wisty sent out his chains, the real one seeming out of range. Glancing up, his body appeared over us. Spinning my fans in my palm, wind built up. Flicking them into his direction, a ball of air swirled around my boot. Releasing the ball of air with a swift kick, my fans’ speed tripled. Shock round his eyes at the sharp edges cutting him into three pieces. His head bounced off of mine, the torso splattering by our boots. His expensive shoes clanged with every clumsy strike on their way down. Decaying to ash before they could hit the street, his torso and head wasn’t far behind. Catching my fans in my eager palms, Wisty cupped my cheeks. What was going through his head right now?
“I love you so much right now! Nothing can describe how sexy you look at this very moment.” He flirted shamelessly, everyone coming out to see nothing but ash and an empty street. Gathering the souls into a bag, his steady hand dropped the bag of supplies into my hands. He wasn't this sweet unless he wanted something.
“Stay here until I ditch these bastards in Hell.” He pleaded with his palms pressed together, my ears pinning back. Shooting him a thumbs up, his chains whisking him away. Plopping down on the nearest bench, patience wore thin in my eyes. Lantern appeared next to me, his perfect waves floating up. What now! My bed was beckoning, the softness of the blankets gifting me rare moments of sweet slumber.
“Time for a meeting, council leader.” He announced with a big smile, hesitation burning in my eyes. “Wisty will meet us after he finishes up.” Huffing a bitter fine, his arm curled around my waist. Something was up, curiosity mixing with a dull fury. Narrowing my eyes in his direction, a nervous chuckle flooded from his lips. Zooming into the hallway outside the meeting room, his strong arms set me down. Holding his finger in the air, his head poked into the slightly ajar door. Smoothing out his robes, he cleared his throat. Why did he have such an odd expression?
“Don’t murder us but we wanted to celebrate your promotion.” He pleaded with another nervous chuckle, his hand pushing the door open. Mixed emotions flashed on my face, Mother Nature waving at me with Ravy in her arms. Taking in their usual outfits, my old man came in with a peanut butter flavored ice cream cake. The door opened again, Wisty stepping in with an apologetic smile on his lips. Waving at us, his fingers intertwined with mine. Spinning me around, his arm curled around my waist. Staring up at him with a look of disbelief, the idea had to be his and his alone.
“What brought on this?” I inquired with a cock of my brow, a sly grin brightening his exhausted features. Shrugging his shoulders, my father motioned for us to sit. Taking my seat at the head of the table, an empty chair remained. Tears welled up in my eyes, his name having been engraved in his seat. Silent tears stained my cheeks, tears pooling on the table. Covering my mouth, Wisty took my hand. Not sure what to do, his place would always remain here and in my heart.
“We wanted to remember him as well, my dear.” Mother Nature spoke with tears glistening in her eyes, her broken expression lingering on the chair. “Don’t leave us like him!" Kissing the top of Ravy’s head, a tainted feeling of hope came over the space. Something ate at me, Master Skull's plan proving to be insecure at best. Why wouldn’t he fight me himself? Fingers snapped in front of my face, Wisty staring into my eyes with the utmost concern. The lights flickered, arms ripping me away from the table. Falling through the dimensions, Master Skull’s boot met my stomach. A fountain of blood burst from my lips, my fingers clawing at the warm rock underneath me. Where the hell was I?
“Open up the seal or die right here!” He demanded venomously, throwing the bag of supplies into my face. Wicked laughter rumbled in my throat, our story would be ending today. Getting on my knees, this fucking bastard didn’t know the spell. Raising his leg over my head, my fingers caught his ankle. Not today, you freaking cockroach.
“As much as I like this little trip to a necessary location, you can’t tell me to do shit!” I barked back with a defiant grin on a determined face. “Try me.” Whipping him into the air, my muscles protested as I snatched the bag. Sprinting into a nearby cave, the supplies hit the smooth black surface. Dumping the ingredients into the special bowl, my fingers curled around my fans. Coughing up a glob of blood, the glob hit the top. Grinding it into a paste, my necklace floated over my head. Lowering itself into the bowl, the ingredients changed into a thin liquid. Waiting for the screams to pierce my ears, nothing came. The bracelet on my wrist glowed brighter, his magic protecting my ears. Something groaned in the distance, a ruby glow taunted me. Sprinting down the tunnels, the entrance to the reapers’ resting place threatened to open. Sinking to my knees, my fingers moved a mile a minute. Strange symbols came to life, the spell would seal their fate. Pressing my palms together, the next words flowed seamlessly from my lips.
“Blossom of Mother Nature! Blood of time! Flames of the Heaven! Wax of Life! Stone of Hell and Death! Combine to form the permanent seal to save us all!” I chanted boldly, Master Skull skidding in. “Take all the power you need from my humble soul!” Pressing my palms onto the stone, a bright blinded me as a black energy welded it shut. Master Skull smashed into me, his blade sliding in and out of me. Large pools splattered the walls, the spell almost finishing up. Waiting with bated breath, a blast of energy knocked us back. Rolling across the smooth surface, a quarter of my power remained. Twitching in the pool of my growing blood, another wave of energy signaled that realm being cut off from the other side. Striking me too fast for my body to heal, tears of joy flooded from my eyes. Voices called for me in the distance, Master Skull kicking me into the air. Every person that I met crashed into view, waves of water smashing Master Skull into the wall. Fighting him off with their weapons, Wisty caught me in his arms. Holding me until the wounds sealed shut, his tears splashed onto my face. Knowing what I was thinking, his head shook desperately.
“Don’t you dare even think about that!” He begged with wild sobs, his hands trembling underneath me. Ignoring him, he cried out as I jumped out of his arms. Sprinting towards the chaos, fresh tears streaming from my eyes. Happy images of my friends flashed in my eyes, my fans darkening to the deepest black. Giant feathers floated behind me, several organs bursting. Unlocking my limit, the situation at hand would be the very definition of an emergency. The others collapsed to the rock, a wall preventing him from getting to me. A gust of wind sent them all back, blood pouring from my eyes, ears and mouth. Holding my head up high, the universe was my responsibility.
“The universe needs saving, so let me do my damn job!” I shouted through a wall of tears, fresh cuts appearing on my skin. Humming to myself, the dance to end him began. Master Skull charged at me, his blade aimed for my throat. Spinning around his strikes, the energy built in the air. Horror rounded his eyes, elements of angel magic granting me the grace to strike his cheek. Stumbling back, clammy sweat drenched his skin.
“No! No!” He pleaded while scratching at his peeling face, the bastard backing into a wall. Pushing off the rock, my body flipped through the air. Fully expecting his defense, my boots twirled down his blade. Pushing off the hilt, rapid spins of my fans over my wrists had the feathers aimed for him. Flicking them towards his neck, the sharp edges cut through his neck like butter. Grabbing his head last minute, the fans weren’t the deadliest item. Hugging him close to me, harsh memories haunted my mind. Raising my hand in the air, a snap of my fingers had the feathers piercing us both. Attempting to push me off, every poison known to kill angels coursed through our bodies. Gripping him with all the strength I had in me, the feathers kept coming. Our blood mixed, one spell remained.
“Undo what was vowed.” I wheezed, his body collapsing into my arms. “Make my blood the deadliest venom. Strike the enemy underneath me.” Sinking to our knees, silent tears cascaded from my eyes as the venom took its hold on him. Foam poured from his lips, my trembling hands pulling his head onto my lap.
“Why?” He coughed with a weary smile, seeming happy to die. “Why give me a nice ending after all I did to you?” Smiling through the blood pouring from every hole in my face, my compassion could never let a soul receive a horrible ending. As much as I despised him, he looked so innocent in this tragic moment.
“No matter your sins, a peaceful ending is always deserved.” I whispered through another shiver, feeling death’s arms around my shoulder. “All I ever wanted was for the world to be peaceful. Lay with me until you draw your last breath, friend.” The landscape doubled, his hand dropping to the rock. Catching his soul, the poor guy deserved a chance. Struggling to my feet, the wall keeping the others from me glitched out. Limping over to the others, I pressed his soul into Lantern’s palms. Perhaps a better life would guide him in the right direction.
“His life was hell so give him a second shot down on Earth. Please.” I wept dejectedly, cupping my sides as protests parted his lips. “Don’t argue. I wouldn’t be any better than him if I didn’t do this. If he fucks up again, I will kill him myself.” Their faces blurred with my tears, a rough darkness stealing me away.
Standing in a field of stunning flowers, the colorful blossoms tickled my fingertips. A familiar voice had me spinning on my heels, a healthy looking Raveno ran his hand through his hair. Fussing with his suit, a sad smile lingered on his lips. Smashing into his body, his arms buried me into a desperate bear hug. Cupping my face, tears poured down his chin. Sliding his hand down to my bracelet, his head cocked to the left. Tracing his fingers over the cracks, pride glistened in his eyes.
“Now isn’t your time.” He sobbed softly, my head shaking. “Someday we will meet again but not today.” My lips parted in protest, his hand covering my mouth. Curling my hand around his, part of me wanted to stay.
“I didn’t die for you to die.” He spoke simply, tucking a loose piece of hair behind my ear. “Remember that I love you with all of my feathers and lead the universe in the right direction. Goodbye isn’t forever.” Our eyes flitted to the glowing crystals, a blinding light sending me out of the dimension.
Sucking in a deep breath, a quick glance around me had my bedroom walls greeting me. Swinging my feet over the edge of the bed, a simple white cotton dress hugged my body flawlessly. Stumbling into the elevator, the damn thing couldn’t move fast enough. Jaws hit the ground at the sight of me, half of them looking like they had seen a ghost. Long wild waves floated with each step, my mind wondering how much time had passed. Scanning the crowd for Wisty, my heart sank at the lack of his presence. Running through the market, the chaos died down at the door of my father’s home. Banging on the door, the color drained from my father’s face. Ravy recognized me, her tiny hands reaching for me. Clutching her close to my chest, a sigh of relief poured from my lips at how small she still was. Collapsing into his arms, his tears soaked the top of my head. Helping me in, his hands sat me down in the chair.
“How long has it been?” I choked out through a wall of tears, his trembling hands scrunching up the hem of his suit jacket. “How long?” Sinking into the chair next to me, his office door burst open. Wisty plucked me from my seat, his strong arms burying me into a bear hug. More tears dripped down my cheek, my wet eyes meeting his. Cupping my face, his hands shook as bad as my father’s. Kissing me feverishly, his hands refused to let my face go. Happy to see him, my heart fluttered with pure bliss.
“Don’t you ever pull that shit again.” He berated me with his real smile, his thumbs wiping away my tears. “You are lucky that Vivra was able to keep you in a coma.” Mumbling an earnest apology, the door burst open again. Wisty’s eyes rolled, the rest of the council fretting over me. Stepping back, he gave them space. Basking in the warmth, a noise had me bursting from their circle. Music played in the street, curiosity glistened in my eyes. Running over to the window, my real smile illuminated my features. A banner reading welcome back stole my heart away, Teas flipping into the room.
“Come along and celebrate the festival in your honor.” She chirped cheerfully, dropping my worn boots by my feet. Sliding them on as Sunny spun in, her palms pressed together. Letting them guide me into the next part of my life, the universe was mine to run.

We had some very generous Greek neighbors in our neighborhood when I was a kid in the 90s, and they would have us over for special meals from time to time. I don’t know what holiday it was, but they served some kind of cake one time that contained a bunch of lucky silver charms. I think I got a horseshoe? They were really small and fine quality. Google says it was probably a vasilopita, however it looks like that cake is only meant to have a coin in it. I have a vague memory of there being something gold in the cake as well, and was hoping to get it, of course.
Do you think the addition of the silver bits was something traditional, or were they just being extra?
I’ve always been fascinated by that memory and wondered if it was something that could be faithfully replicated. Like, is there a full set of symbols associated with this cake, other than the gold coin?
Any info appreciated, thanks!