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if they’d just locked the box up and put in document storage (exactly like they did in canon !) after throwing him in the buried they could’ve just been done with him, people would still be bound to the institute but they could make it a better place to be with jonah gone

basis could be the new head of the institute, and jon and martin could be in scotland, and they could just kill peter lucas too! it works out for everyone we care about!

guys. why didn’t they just throw jonah into the buried?? it would’ve fixed ALL of their problems, “creepy boss trying to get me involved in his schemes?” he can’t do that from the buried! “can’t kill creepy boss bc then we’ll all die?” it was shown through jon being in the buried that the supernatural ties to the institute still hold while in the buried, so they wouldn’t have died! the solution to their problems was literally right there and they could have had their happily ever after

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guys. why didn’t they just throw jonah into the buried?? it would’ve fixed ALL of their problems, “creepy boss trying to get me involved in his schemes?” he can’t do that from the buried! “can’t kill creepy boss bc then we’ll all die?” it was shown through jon being in the buried that the supernatural ties to the institute still hold while in the buried, so they wouldn’t have died! the solution to their problems was literally right there and they could have had their happily ever after

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Trying to explain my Magnus Archives essay to an English teacher like;

"oh yeah and John basically-" "John as in the author?" "No, sorry- I mean, John the character." "You should use his full name, so it's less confusing" "His full name is Johnathan Sims." "So it is the author?" "No, they just share a name. Can I continue?" "Okay, okay. Just- call him John then." "Yeah okay and so my next point is about Michael-" "Haven't you already talked about Michael?" "No, that was Michael Crew." "Who's this?" "Michael Shelley. Well- actually I'm talking about the Distortion, but when it was Michael." "So.... Michael Distortion is Michael Shelley? Is "Distortion" like his job title?" "Well, no. He's not Michael, he's just like- using Michael's... *waves hands around* essence." "I'm confused. What's your next point?" "Yeah okay so my next argument is about the characterisation and character arc of the Admiral." "Oh is he like, a war veteran or something?" **😶😶😶** "What?" "he's a cat."

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Not gonna lie, if I was Orpheus, I just wouldn't have turned arou–

Did you hear that?

Eurydice?

Eurydice, are you still there?

Sorry, I trust you're there. That noise just startled me for a second there.

...

You are there, right? Sorry. Of course you are.

This is a long tunnel. My feet hurt... Do you think we can stop for a while? I won't turn around.

I promise.

...

I'll take that as a yes.

Do you know how much longer it'll take?

I... I don't know why I keep asking you questions. I know I won't get an answer. But you can give me all your answers as soon as we're home.

I'm so tired. Let's rest. Just for an hour or so.

I love you.

I won't turn around.

...

Do you trust that I won't?

Sorry, I just realized how often I keep saying that I won't. Do I really think you don't trust me? Do I not trust myself?

How long have we been walking? It feels like days.

I just... I hope it's over soon. I keep feeling like I see the light at the end of the tunnel but it's just my imagination.

But I won't turn around... I prom-

What's that noise?

Is that you?

Are you even there?

Sorry. Again. And sorry I keep saying sorry. Am I going insane? I know you're there. Right behind me. Just one step behind.

Has it been weeks?

I think my hair's longer than it should be.

Months?

Will we ever make it out?

I trust you're there. I trust you're right behind me. I can't hear you. I can't look at you...

I won't turn around. I promise.

...

I love you.

Eurydice?

I...

I won't turn around.

I won't.

I.

...

I don't think there's an end to this.

Should we keep walking?

Should I just...

I'm sorry, I can't believe I'm even suggesting that.

I won't turn around.

Because I love you. And I trust you're there...

I love you.

I can't see you. Or feel you. Or hear you.

How can I love you...

You're hardly there. I know it doesn't feel that way to you.

But I just... I won't turn around.

... I promise?

Has it been years?

When will this be over.

Do I even love you if I can't even bring myself to look at you?

Let me see you! I can't do this. Let me hear your voice, Eurydice!

Eurydice?

I can't... I won't...

Turn around...

Turn around?

How could I be so stupid?

But this won't be over until I do.

I truly believe that.

I love you.

Even if I never see you again...

Please understand, Eurydice. I'm breaking this promise out of love.

Please understand.

I'm sorry.

I'm turning around.

You're beautiful.

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good morning kings, let’s push this boulder

good morning kings let’s push this boulder

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Good morning

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anatomy 👁️

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Concept: TMA quotes but it's Barbie

Proof of concept:

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go white boy goooo

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yippee!! hadestown has been ruining/affectionate my life for 4 years now lol

and i. don’t really have many mutuals im still fairly new to this site whoops so open invitation! if you see this consider yourself tagged!!

i found a cool tag game on twitter and i really wanna import it (o^ ^o)

this picrew + the last song you listened to :]

no pressure tags: @blood-loving-leech @overtaken-boredom @lesbianthatyaps @kameonerd566 @hexedvampire @laczki @anonymous-shxtposter @fleurafae @flovqy + anyone who wants to do it <3

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I forgot to post this!

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We lay here for years or for hours Your hand in my hand, so still and discreet So long, we'd become the flowers We'd feed well the land and worry the sheep

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Hey, Magnus Fans.

TMagP, Series 2, Episode 48.

That's all.

:)

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I got inspired by @captainkirkk 's writer!Zuko AU, so have a thing:

The premise would require Aang to know about Zuko moonlighting as an author.

I imagine Zuko coming up to Aang one day and going: “Hey Aang, I … have a proposal. I know this might seem insensitive, and you have every right to shut this idea down but…” “Just tell me.” “I was thinking that I want to write a book about the fate of the Airnomads.” “Go on” “You know that in my search for you I researched a lot about what happened to your people, and I learned a lot about your culture. And having that knowledge I can’t stand to see the way the last 100 years of propaganda have mischaracterized your people and twisted their teachings. I am in the unique position of knowing a lot about the happenings back then, having the resources to learn more, and in Dante’s fans the assurance that this story will have a large platform. I want to portray your people in an accurate, sympathetic light and reach readers in a way no museum will be able to replicate. I want to tell a story that accurately portrays not just your people’s suffering, but also the rich culture, philosophies and traditions. I want to raise awareness both of the horrifying betrayal at the hands of the fire nation, but also for the Airnomads as a distinct people, beyond ‘those who’s genocide marks the official start of the war’! But I am also well aware that as Fire Lord and descendant of Sozin, I might be the last person who should tell that story. So I have two questions: 1) Are you ok with the concept of me writing this, and 2) if you are, if you would be willing to advice me in writing it. Because this is your story more than anyone else’s, and I am not writing a single line without explicit consent. What do you say?” “Let me think about it?” “Of course.”

Aang does some thinking, and comes to the conclusion, that Zuko knows his stuff better than most others, that this is a great chance to educate about his lost culture, and that Zuko is very aware of the responsibility he has in writing this and treat it accordingly. He will ask, Aang, rather than making assumptions, taking “creative liberties” or filling in the gaps with misinformation. He will respect the subjects of his writing.

And so, he says yes. So Aang and Zuko start meeting regularly, and Aang tells him stories lost to time. Of holidays and sacred days nobody remembers to celebrate. Of a culture build around communal life, change and an active separation of one’s roots no other nation is able to understand with their respective cultural upbringing. Of the philosophies of airbending and the typical schooling a monk would go through. Of elders who led those communities, and the faces they made when hit with a well aimed fruit pie. Of games played in the courtyard, bison bonding, typical topics of the gossips interest. Of both, the official order of things and the actual social dynamics of his people. Of the various ways people reacted to him being a prodigy and the avatar. Of music, and dancing, and stories, and legends, and crafts, and recipes, and colloquialisms and proverbs. Of whistle tongue, a language spoken purely through whistling, that was impossible to reproduce for non-airbenders, that would sound through the Temples at all times of the day. Of being able to travel freely between the nations, and being encouraged to learn other cultures and their perspectives. About befriending the prince of Omashu. Of traditional southern waterbending dances he can’t remember in detail and Katara never got the Chance to learn. Of being shown hospitality in the earth kingdom, and being seen as a good omen. Of Dragons and of Kuzon’s parents being shunned for housing a *insert slur against airbenders* because the propaganda machine had been working for a while. Of tsungi-horns and the camelafant strut. From both the Airnomads and the other nations, the good, the bad, the ugly, the mundane and everything else that was lost to war.

And Zuko sits, asks, writes, and most importantly: listens. On top of that, the whole Gaang regularly meets to go through all the stolen stuff stored in the fire palace like it’s the British museum and working to bring everything back to it’s original owner. While they do this, they all explain the cultural significance behind each item, so that everyone gets a better grasp of each others culture.

Afterwards Zuko begins to write, with Aang as a sensitivity reader. He tells the story of an average Airnomad called Sanna, about 7 years older than Aang. They grow up in the southern Airtemple. He writes about philosophical debates, schoolyard games and quarrels, important holidays, traditional foods, common jokes, and Airnomad humor. About wise teachings, annoying teachers, cultural norms, traditions, pets, language and writing. But all of that is in the background, given enough explanation that ignorant readers can follow, but the narrative treats it as the everyday life of the protagonist, seamlessly interwoven with the story that it doesn’t feel like a textbook or lecture, but simply like it actually takes place there. Because the reader learning the Airnomad alphabet and gaining a better understanding of Airnomad culture is goal, but the heart of the story is the protagonist growing up into this increasingly hostile world.

Of the Sanna being faced with more and more adversity, the farther they venture from the temple, the more aware they grow of negative sentiments against them, the more vicious the propaganda becomes. Of the night of Sozin’s comet and Sanna trying desperately to survive afterwards. Of the inner conflict between the Airnomad’s teachings and doing what they have to do to survive. Of dealing with being uprooted in a way that never should have happened. And of all the friendship, betrayal, small kindnesses, prejudice, companionship, trauma and precious memories made, lived and suffered along the way. A lot of it is drawn from Aang’s dealing with the destruction of his culture and his confrontation with Ozai, but a lot of the feelings of displacement and flitting through a world that is unwelcoming towards you, are taken from Zuko’s banishment.

When Basco’s book is published the dedication reads: “To my friend

, your advice in creating this was invaluable, and without you I never would have dared to write something like this. May this live up to your hopes and expectations.” Once the readers of the book have gained a vague understanding of the airnomad Alphabet, and learn that

translates to Aang, pandemonium breaks loose. Aang claims that he and Dante only corresponded through letters and he doesn’t know his identity, but that he got to fact check everything, and that every mention of airnomad culture is accurate. This book goes on to define the widespread understanding of pre-war Airnomad culture, and even scholars sometimes relying on Aang’s assurance of the accuracy of this book to gain a better understanding of culture and context of their topics of research.