#I always just think of them in separate spaces

[frownyalfred]

Hi, you said "no I don't know him"/"he's my dad" and dealt me immediate psychic damage please say more words that hopefully make this better

(spoiler alert: nothing can erase the inherent tragedy of this)

the ask/prompt was about Dick and Bruce not acknowledging each other in the League, right? so kind of playing with this identity porn idea of Batman and Nightwing both being separate vigilantes working with the League with no outward, immediately obvious, or self-professed connection between them other than both being from Gotham (which might not even be something they reveal, for OpSec reasons).

Why would they choose to do this? Maybe Bruce wants to eliminate any connections between them to make it even harder to guess their secret identities. Having two pieces of the puzzle always makes it easier to solve than if you only have one.

Maybe Dick wants to be his own vigilante, separate from Batman's influence, and stand on his own with the League. Maybe he wants to put space between him and Robin, and asks Bruce not to fully acknowledge him outside of Gotham.

Maybe it's a mix of both? Or maybe it just never truly comes up, and both of them are too smart and well-trained as a default to give anything away in front of the League. Maybe the League knows that they know each other, that they've worked together before, but nothing more than that.

And what even ties Nightwing to Batman, really? Funding, the suit, the relationship to Robin, but none of those are immediately apparent. Gotham is a common denominator, but there are multiple vigilantes in most major US cities and Nightwing largely operates in Bludhaven. Training/fighting style? Also hard to identify without being in the know. Essentially, if they don't say anything to the League, how much can the average person even infer, much less notice?

So those two lines stuck out to me. In response to a well-meaning or confused League member asking if Dick knows Batman, he really only has two possible responses: "No, I don't know him" or the truth.

That there is a connection between them, and it's actually damn near sacred. He was, is, Batman's partner. He knows Bruce like almost no one else does. They're spoken about in the same breath. Or they were, once upon a time. They have mirrored beginnings, twin motivations. They fallback on each other, even when they're fighting bitterly. Dick is still who Alfred calls, when Bruce is in a self-destructive rut. And vice versa.

But what would prompt Dick to break that code of silence? I guess it depends on why it exists. And so for that second response -- "That's my dad" -- I was thinking of a situation where it was because of Dick's need to be separate from Batman. And Bruce obliges the secrecy, because it's logical and also Dick asked. But one day Bruce is injured on a mission, or hurting somehow, and the League is panicked trying to figure out what to do and Dick is right there. Batman's partner is a foot away and nobody knows. And Dick suddenly has to make a decision that is, in that instant, more easy than anything he's ever done.

"That's my dad."

[vityaposting]

WRITING REQUEST HIII

what about reader going to viktor to get augmented for a non physical reason - like maybe mental illness or addiction or something (idk dealers choice) and viktor slowly getting to know them over time. eventually reader overcomes their problem, and viktor realises that he likes reader just the way they are - unaugmented or not.

don't feel obligated to do this lol just saw that your requests where open

HI!!!! i love this request so much i decided it needs to be a multi chapter thing (4 or 5 probably?) i got broken up with yesterday so i ATE this prompt up lol

how to heal a rusted heart - mh!viktor x gn!reader - part 1

wc: 2100

You approach Emberflit Alley with no small amount of trepidation. The house is smaller than you expected, shoddier on the outside; shutters hang from foggy, cracked windows, and ivy like claw-scratches makes its way up the worn brick walls. You know—as does every Zaunite you’ve ever met—that there is more to the Machine Herald’s residence than meets the eye. You don’t know exactly how—somewhere, some way, there is a massive laboratory tucked behind the house’s unassuming facade. Maybe a separate underground sector, or even a pocket dimension supplied by the Herald’s knowledge of thinning the barrier between tech and magic. All these speculations are, of course, rumors—you’ve never had a reason to solve the mystery yourself. Until today. Today, you’d snapped.

Your chest still burns with the fury of it all. Betrayal. And to think they’d claimed to love you. Sickly-sweet self-satisfaction rises like bile to the back of your throat, putting a little more power behind your knock on the door. You’d been right. Paranoia, your doctor had proclaimed years ago—a not-uncommon symptom of your particular ailment. Well, was it true paranoia if you were always proven right in the end?

It doesn’t matter. After tonight, you won’t care.

A thickly-accented voice cuts through the speaker above the knocker: “You may enter.”

Ominous. You push away your trepidation, another instinct you’d be free of sooner rather than later. The door is heavy steel—you have to use your shoulder to pry it open, but once you’ve managed its weight, it swings inward for you on well-oiled hinges.

You emerge into a wide space thick with the stenches of metal and oil, cast under an ambient glow in various shades of orange. Lights flicker at you from lanterns on the walls, from faint bulbs hung across the ceiling. A lab bench spans the entire length of the room, which seems impossibly large compared to the house’s outer facade. A pocket dimension it is, then. Maybe. You still can’t be sure. The equipment littered across the bench is foreign and complex-looking.

The whistle of steam and clicking of gears greets you before the Herald himself can.

He’s tinkering with something. Something sharp. He sets it down, turns on his stool, lowers his hood and pushes his goggles onto his forehead. You aren’t quite sure what you expected the Machine Herald to look like under his armor and mask. If he even takes them off at all. Whatever you expected, this isn’t it.

“Good evening,” he says levelly. His voice rumbles in his throat, his accent lending the greeting a soft, alluring quality. He tilts his head, an oddly innocent gesture, considering his reputation. “With what can I be of service?”

The words you’ve been rehearsing for hours lodge themself in your throat, and even a heavy swallow can’t force them out. The Herald is unblinking. Molten orange pupils burn into yours, piercing against his dark scleras. His face is pale and his features sharp—he’s beautiful, you note, not completely willingly—and his frame is thin and willowy beneath his cloak.

“Well?” he prompts, and shame floods you, reminding you why you decided to take measures this drastic in the first place. “Nobody comes this deep into the Lanes just to visit me. Not to say I mind the solitude.”

He doesn’t want you here.

You’re here for a service, scolds the rational side of your mind, a side which seems to grow more and more powerless with every passing week, with every friend you lose, with every burst of rage and every bridge you burn. A service he openly advertises. He allowed you to open the door. He could have… have death-rayed you.

“Mister… Machine Herald,” you begin, horrendously embarrassed at how your voice quavers. The air in the lab is muggy. You wrap your arms around your middle anyway. “I’ve heard of the… the services you provide, and I—”

“Viktor,” he interrupts. “Viktor will suffice.”

You cough. His eyes narrow.

“Go on. You seek augmentation.”

“Of the… unconventional variety, I guess you could say. Less of a physical augmentation and more of a…”

“You are at war with your own mind,” he observes. “I can see it in your eyes. Come closer.”

And you do, because there’s something in the rumble of his voice—which is so close to a growl you feel weak in the knees—and the sharp glow of his eyes that draws you in like a moth to a lantern. He gestures to the second stool at his side. You wonder who it’s normally reserved for. Patients? Experimental subjects? A partner, perhaps—or has he always only worked alone?

“You’re tense. Relax.” He speaks with such calm authority that it’s impossible not to listen. “I will not touch you without explicit permission. If it’s only emotional suppression you seek, I may be able to offer a solution that does not require me to lay hands on you.”

You don’t know why this disappoints you.

He tilts his head as he gazes at you, one gloved hand fidgeting with a trinket on his workbench. “Tell me. In detail. What is it you want out of this? What causes you such pain?”

“Everything,” you say. It’s almost a whimper. He raises an eyebrow. Clearing the embarrassment from your throat, you try again. “Everything is… is so much. I’m scared. All the time. I can’t love anyone anymore, I… I’m afraid they’ll all leave me.” Oftentimes, they do, you neglect to add. This won’t concern Viktor. He has no reason to care. “And it can change on a coin. It’s like you said. It’s like being at war.” A war between your body and your brain, you’ve realized, would never be one worth fighting. This, however, seems to be the only way to put an end to things. You look at Viktor plaintively, hoping he isn’t judging. If the rumors are true, he removed his ability to judge long ago.

“Ah,” he said after a silence that seemed to stretch for eons. “I understand.”

“My doctor says it’s an… ailment.”

“That may be,” he says. “As such, you have a right to want to heal it. Procedures with the intent to alter emotions are harder and riskier than procedures focused on the physical. I am happy to give you what you ask for, but you must be aware of the potential consequences. Do you intend to eliminate all emotions, or… only their extremities?”

“Only the extremities.” Life will be much easier, you think, if you never have to love another person again. Amicable acquaintanceship, however, hurts nobody.

“Good,” he hums. “Complete removal is difficult. If I weren’t so stubborn I’d nearly say it was impossible.”

“How do you know?”

“I tried,” he says plainly.

“And you failed?” You don’t know what emboldens you to say it.

“I simply have not yet succeeded.”

You look at him, then, really look at him. And behind those beautiful eyes that glow with the light of a hundred fires, shine with the darkness of a hundred polluted Zaun nights, you almost swear you see your own loneliness staring back at you.

“It’s risky,” he continues. “In the case that something goes awry, do not say I didn’t warn you.”

“Of course,” you whisper.

“May I take a closer look? I’d like to get a feel for the incision site.”

You nod a silent confirmation and bow your head, gripping the sides of the stool. He wheels himself closer. Lifts his hand. You hold your breath.

The Herald’s hands are gentle when they card through your hair, pushing a few strands away from your forehead. His demeanor now is a far cry from the terrifying villain you know him to be—the chaos-wreaking force of evil most of Zaun insists he is. You wonder, as your breathing calms, exactly how many of the tales are wild fantasy, because this soft touch is the realest thing you've felt in a long, long time.

“All I can promise you is that I will be careful,” he murmurs, tracing a line from the center of your forehead to the crown of your hair. “This particular procedure is immensely detail-oriented, even in comparison to the others I’ve performed. To dampen your emotions, I will be altering your limbic system, in the simplest of terms. However, if I am not meticulous, I risk damaging other functions, such as reasoning or memory.”

Truth be told, waking up without any memory of the hurt you’ve endured doesn’t sound too awful.

But, you realize as a shiver runs down your spine—you want to remember this.

“There is another option,” Viktor goes on. You’re forced to draw your attention away from his soft, prodding touches. “Implants in the form of pills. Those, however, I’ve not yet managed to make permanent. They’re finicky, and they don’t last long. You’d have to take them twice a day—one separate medication for each emotion you wish to suppress. I imagine it would all be a hassle. This, however… if you consent, I can perform the entire procedure in one process, and your desired results will be immediate.” He draws his hand back, lightly scratching your scalp—it’s enough to relax, but not enough to hurt. “You don’t have to decide today.”

“No, no. That’s alright. I’ll take the… the surgery.”

“If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

Finality settles over you like a chilly breeze as he pulls away. You’ll finally be free. Free of heartbreak, of fury, of flaws. There’s something in his mechanical gaze that unnerves you and enthralls you simultaneously. Something human.

“Being that this is a complicated procedure,” he says, “I will have to schedule it in advance. I will reserve an entire day for you and I cannot free the time for a week. A week from today. Is that alright with you? I can give you the medication to temporarily curb your symptoms in the meantime, if you like. It’s experimental, but I am relatively sure of its safety.”

He looks so hopeful. You know the joy etched in the lines of his sharp face is nothing more than the joy of scientific innovation, but it’s endearing all the same. The Machine Herald of Zaun’s urban legends is a completely different person. You find it hard to believe that the cackling, murderous tyrant rumored to haunt the Lanes even shares a name with the man in front of you. There’s a hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth, and a few locks of hair sticking up haphazardly from beneath his goggles. You find yourself cracking a grin for the first time in days.

“No,” you say. Your chest feels lighter. Just a bit. Enough to be noticeable, enough to instill the certainty that trusting your life to the Herald is the right decision—malicious cackle, terrifying armor, death laser, and all. “No, I’ll be alright.”

He crosses his arms over his lap. “You don’t have to tell me what happened,” he says softly. “But the ache in your heart… someone put it there. I know the feeling. You are not the first to be driven away from loving altogether. I once thought I had a simple fix. I… do not know if it was the foolproof solution I thought it was. I will perform any procedure on you that you wish. But you should know this. Metal is perfection, yes, but love… love can rust the strongest steel.” He swallows, fiery eyes flickering. “I thought I’d warn you. However, I do my best for all my patients, and you are no exception.”

You’re quiet for a long moment. You’re grateful for the lab’s low lighting—it’s unlikely Viktor can see the blush crawling up your neck. “I—thank you.”

“Do you still want this? Even considering the risk?”

He looks at you so softly. He must look at everyone that softly, you realize, but the knowledge doesn’t make you feel any less warm. “Yeah.”

He gives you a businesslike nod, and you can see the Machine Herald’s persona sliding back into place. Cold. Unfeeling. For a moment, though, you saw the truth. “Thank you. I will see you one week from today—be here as early in the morning as you please. I’ll walk you out. Be safe out there. I can only complete the procedure if you return to me in one piece.”

What a gentleman, you think, but you say nothing. You accept with a small smile.

His hand brushes your shoulder as you reach for the handle of the door. Your whole body sparks, as if you’re a machine already.

“Goodbye,” he says. “And best of luck. I will pray that the next week treats you kindly.”

You almost want to hug him goodbye—out of thanks if nothing else. You hold yourself back. “I’ll see you then.”

The last thing you see before the door shuts behind you are his eyes. Two pinpricks of light in the darkness of the Lanes. Mechanical though they are, you realize they still crinkle at the corners when he smiles.

[bitchslapblastoids]

interesting but predictable how some of the inherent uncanny valley strangeness of bringing something that exists in the chronically online space into the real world can manifest. I’ve noticed this at all the other tours of theirs as well - some people can have a hard time separating internet behaviors from irl behaviors, and the sudden merging of these compartmentalized ways of being (online vs offline) can be hard to navigate.

I think it can also make people uncomfortable to see their comedic silly billie faves being serious, and there’s a dissonance to seeing them, these characters who live on our screens, along with the audience around you who are typically just avatars and usernames shitposting in lowercase, all suddenly in the same physical room. And suddenly that often completely disparate, scattered, semi-anonymous community needs to adapt to social mores and group norms in a new social context. It’s taking a community with its own set of rules that were designed for and in response to a digital landscape and plonking it into a completely alien environment. And yeah, we’re all humans who exist in public outside of our internet lives, but it’s different when that happens but you’re still in the context of the phandom.

Which I think is what leads to things like shouting out rly profane, out of pocket things during the quieter moments of their shows. because if you comment something like that online, you won’t rly be interrupting anything. you might be ignored, you might get some laughs, maybe you’ll get a notice bc haha unhinged right. Or like treating an evacuation drill as a lol pass the tea yas mommy daniel moment instead of an oh we’re actually here in real life moment.

I went back to my tatinof review bc I remembered writing this - “someone behind me kept screaming at them to "GET NAKED" (particularly during silences in the 7 second challenge) to which everyone in my area responded with claps and laughter.” During my second TIT show, there were people around me who wolf whistled and shouted “kinky” and “ayo ok freaky” during totally inappropriate moments. I remember during Dan’s quieter bits of WAD people could not seem to just stay silent. (I have suffered complete amnesia when it comes to ii so I can’t speak to any part of that experience lol.) after the preshow and during intermission at tit, I heard separate people at separate times making a range of critical comments about Dan and Phil’s bodies in ways that were downright shocking and not how I hope they’d typically feel comfortable speaking about other humans.

I think on the whole, phannies are so lovely and kind to one another. I feel deep gratitude for this community. And I know this isn’t just a phandom thing; I think how we treat one another in public spaces has generally really eroded, and concert etiquette has become abysmally poor. But phandom, as always, is a little unique, because of the sense of mutual understanding and the co-created dynamic between us and d&p. It dissolves the boundaries, so when Dan tells you to shut up, your online brain tells you that’s just a chance to be funny with your fave. When you have a chance to be heard, your online brain provides a memey shitpost joke and your irl self shouts it out even though that ain’t the move in a theatre performance unless invited to do so.

No real conclusion here, just some observations about the rly unique dynamic this all creates!

[spirk-trek]

Hey so, it's me. The debbie-downer vaguing you in the spirk tag. I didn't mention you directly because my post wasn't directed at you, although it was made in response to checking some of your posts because I do have Unification in my filtered list (content and tag), so those fanworks? Behind a button, so my choice to look is all my own. (I didn't send the anon, though. That was someone else, sorry to say.) It sucks that that's how tumblr's system works but yay content filtering! Tumblr didn't always have that.

I didn't make that post to start drama, and I'm not the sort to get my kicks by being a contrarian for opposition's sake (like. I'm a Shatner fan. In a lot of online Star Trek spaces, I might as well say I hate K/S or Leonard Nimoy or kick puppies in my spare time, you know?), but I did make it in anger and for that I apologize. I should have waited longer on it to phrase things better or simply have deleted it from my drafts after typing it out. (But it's out there now and I'll live with it.)

I do understand where the joy of connecting the past to the present comes from (as a lot of your posts do with connecting old and new fanworks together), and that a lot of people are celebrating the Unification short as a culmination of 50+ years of K/S despite their initial separation according to the initial story, but for me (personally! I want to stress that. It's just me and my own opinion here), I keep seeing it as a valuing of what a company is finally offering fans rather than the celebration of fans who saw where K/S's story ended at the time, rejected that ending that was offered by the corporation, and made their own ending for K/S, without looking towards any official channels as a guide for their visions. That's what my post was about, where my anger was from, those questions--what becomes lost in fandom if we accept canon from the corporation that holds the copyright? What does it say if we look towards that same canon as being above what fandom has already envisioned? In a fandom as old as Star Trek's, one that laid so much groundwork that we take for granted, to overlook that worries me.

I suppose the biggest issue here is it's too similar, like a reflection in a mirror: on one side, Unification stands as the canonization of what the fandom has envisioned all along. It culminates. On the other, Unification appears as a bone tossed to finally appease fans who have seen K/S from the start and it feels too little, too late. Ironically enough, the short has seemingly managed to divide people, but it's too early to tell how lasting such a division could be.

Hopefully I've cleared the air by this. Unification clearly is not my cup of tea and I'm honestly not trying to ruin anyone's fun (most of my posts have gone untagged for a reason but I forget tumblr still parses for post content to index. Yikes. That post was tagged, though, because it was a snap decision made in anger and I wanted my thoughts to be seen). One could argue the short wasn't even made for me as I've long wondered if I will watch Generations because I've read the summary and didn't like it. But that's the joy of fandom and transformative works. We can look at the story and pick our favorite parts and rewrite the ones we don't like. If we didn't do that, fandom wouldn't exist, or it would but it wouldn't be as much fun.

Sorry for the essay in your inbox and for causing any confusion and hurt. I hope you've had a great day 💛

i'm not going to lie, it does hurt a little. i wasn't going to answer this publicly but i don't have the time today to have a private convo and i don't want you to think i deleted it or ignored it, so here we are.

i don't think unification made spirk any more canon than tmp did. i don't think the short was made with k/s in mind at all, even as a bone to toss starving shippers. star trek at large was never intended as a love story between them, but people have always seen it anyway. 

i'm conflicted about the use of nimoy's likeness too. despite that, i think that they did it as respectfully as they could have and involved the right people. it was a goodbye, not using him for a cheap cameo or advertising purposes (yes i know it was an "ad" like everything is, but it's not like spock holds up a coke at the end). you can disagree with me, and i understand your point of view. that's why i said i understood where that anon was coming from. 

what i see is william shatner and others taking a story that ended in a way that was disrespectful to both characters, one of which he himself has been playing for the majority of his life, and trying to fix that. it doesn't mean there's no corporate greed involved. both can be true. at least they posted it on youtube, they didn't premiere it or put it behind a paywall. it was just eight minutes, and less than a quarter of that had nimoy's face in it. my favorite part of the whole thing was seeing tos kirk meet his future selves. i love that even though they both die out of their times, they find each other in the end. 

i don't want to be an activist or defend or endorse anything, i just... 

those zines i tagged were 1) a poem by della van hise that was so accurate to the short that others were already reblogging it (i posted it weeks ago). i found it super interesting that she wrote a poem about them meeting again in death before tmp/wok even came out, let alone this short. 2) i was gushing about unification in the tags. 3) another poem about being side by side, which again, i found incredibly relevant. the other one i posted was because it went well with the others visually. it has nothing to do with unification other than the fact that spock is laying down. 

this has just made me sad tbh. i'm not angry and i love your analysis/fan work so much, so :( idk, i don't want anything i post to be divisive or disrespectful. i wasn't even worried about that before. i just really needed a win and maybe i clung to that a little too hard :/

[kalinara]

I think the current interpretation is that the Phoenix IS Jean IS the Phoenix. It's just the part of her that she's been continually rejecting until the whole bit in her Fall of X era Jean Grey solo.

Certainly Jean, post Resurrection, has acted as though the deeds performed by the Dark Phoenix were done by her, and are something she regularly seeks to address/atone for.

(The whole mother-me/bird/Hope part of things does obscure it all a little, but I suppose when you look at the idea that the Phoenix itself is eternal and outside time and space, it can sort of just DO that. There's also, I suppose, some Catholic Trinity comparisons to be made there.)

But the question about Scott Summers and the Phoenix is really interesting, because there is, I think, enough material throughout the years to imply at least SOME kind of connection between them. (Heck, she even appears in a vision at the very end of Scott's X-Men Classic backstory issue. If you go with the interpretation of Jean and Phoenix as separate, then arguably their connection existed FIRST, and Jean and Scott's came second.)

You can make a pretty strong argument that a good part of what made everything go wrong in the Dark Phoenix Saga, at least the part where it went from a bad "Jean's manipulated into a dream reality by Wyngarde/the Hellfire Club" to Jean's lost her fucking mind, was when Scott "died" in her mind as a result of that mental duel. And it's not uncommon for other reality versions of the Dark Phoenix to mention a dead Scott Summers (see, e.g. the one in First Class).

Phoenix Endsong is maybe the most interesting Phoenix appearance when it comes to that, because there's a point where Scott gets the Phoenix to backdown by standing there with Kitty Pryde's hand in his chest, ready to squeeze his heart and kill him if the Phoenix doesn't stop. Which is an insane plan (Kitty's not a fan either), but it...works?

It's not something that seems to come up in AvX or onward. But it was an interesting thread for a while.

I do still love the Plateau Scene though. And that follow up flashback from Scott in the Hellfire Club an issue or two later:

There's something about a redhead convincing her boyfriend to let her gently insert something vaguely phallic shaped into his face that always makes me smile.

TFW your girlfriend is a God

Current state of canon is that this is not Jean Grey at all - it's the Phoenix/it's complicated. Something I've always wondered is - how does the Phoenix feel about Scott Summers? Clearly it cares about Earth and specifically mutants enough to keep coming back to them (except Chuck - kill his ass) so there must be something going on. There's a lot to be said about the gender politics and power dynamics in this panel, but I'll write about that another time.

As I've said before I don't like how The Phoenix has been beaten to death as a storytelling vehicle (though Kieron Gillen's X-Men Forever/RotPox was a rare exception) and diminished in universe through overuse. I find it hard to believe it would force a bunch of Avengers + Wolverine into a bizarre tournament as part of a million year old legacy resulting in multiple Phoenixes fighting Dark Phoenix Mystique (and being Thor's mother.)

It makes the Phoenix look fickle, capricious, and above all arbitrary - with its recent interest in either possessing or fucking members of the Grey-Summers clan a passing fad. Then again, Jean is 'mother-me' and together they impregnated Hope's mother so there must be at least a corner of the White Hot Room that's just for them.

[ohno-the-sun]

edit:

CLOSED

Thank you to everyone who applied!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yayaya done with the MAP call art and video

If you would like to participate in this Daycare Attendant themed MAP please fill out this form and read the rules listed there.

I have also made a part breakdown for everyone's reference

Latest I will contact people by will be September 1st, if there's still parts open by then I will extend the deadline

A discord will be made for all the animators so they can talk and collaborate if they like (not mandatory to join)

In general I want to give the artists as much time as possible but timeline will be around 3-4 months.

The parts are pretty long so make sure you have the time/motivation!

And for organization I'm gonna put all the stuff relating to this project under the tag #DCA animators project

If you have any questions or concerns please let me know!

Also shoutout to @chaireem and @garbagechocolate for helping me with the form and logistics

Tagging everyone who expressed interest in the tags or comments on the first post below the cut

Sorry if I missed you!

@benji-draws @the-squishy-scrimblo @quetzal-pretzel-blog @piixelpaint @aquilacalvitium @just-a-drawing-bean @tenaciouslittlething @peanut-007 @modellingispainge @burntchickenlookingass @kibbits @kandidandi

[ryllen]

Look what came through the mail today! The letters & ( •̀ω•́ )σ 3 little gremlins from letterstoear.

Just wanna say i adore the flower stickers on the letters too much, they are that much worth mentioning.

[dufferpuffer]

I have some things to say about this - things I've been thinking about for ages, so I'm gonna spill here I hope you don't mind:

~~ Blood supremacy has ALWAYS been pretty big. ~~

Since well before the Statue of Secrecy 1693. Before the statute Wizards weren't secret. Some people were known for doing odd things - and they kept being hunted for it. Small scale "The odd man on the edge of town made a drink that cured my husband of Gout... but the drought this winter is probably his fault too, so lets kill him" all the way to... well the, Puritan Witch Hunts that lead to the Statue of Secrecy.

Lest we forget Sir Nicolas de Mimsy-Porpington, a KNIGHTED member of the royal court, had his wand immediately taken and was sentenced to death... just for accidentally giving a lady a tusk. Locked in a dungeon cell, crying out he could fix it if they let him - he wasn't even given the dignity of a sharp axe blade: 45 hits before he died. It was quite easy to loose the trust of Muggles...

...and yet, there were long, wealthy 'Most Ancient' families taking pride in their magical lineage - recorded and celebrated for centuries. Aristocrats in Muggle society. Because they were not separate.

Not until the Statute of Secrecy. The freshly reinstated Monarchy refused to protect Magical people... so they all hid away. This is great for the peasants who were being killed - but what of the Most Ancient families who were managing quite well...? It wasn't such a good thing for them.

200 years later, the 1890's, when Dumbledore was attending Hogwarts - most of the major Pureblood families are lessened. Dying out with fewer and fewer heir's, poorer than they 'deserve' to be, barely hold any real power over society anymore... All because they can no longer rule over Muggles as easily. The Malfoy's invest in Muggle currency and assets (and taking neighboring Muggle land) to keep up their riches, keeping up that old tradition of using Muggles to keep their place in society - but even they have needed to breed with Half-Bloods in order to avoid interbreeding issues that plagued the Gaunts to extinction.

It's the early 1900s, Muggles seem to rule the world while Wizards are pushed into corners, the Pure-bloods watching their influence fade... Better yet, soon the Muggles start having a Great War with eachother that spans most of Europe - so terrible even Wizards get involved.

Some young talented bloke called Gellert Grindelwald starts rallying people under the idea that Wizards should rule over Muggles. It was quite popular, and devastating. Remember: Krum said he (and others) beat up kids who started wearing the Hallows symbol around the school to be edgy, as he himself had lost family to Grindelwald. Krum punches nazi's :^) 1945 - Albus defeated his ex. 1945. Tom's LAST year at school.

He had already killed people, already made Horcruxs', already made a gang of Pureblood buddies - most of whom probably thought Gellert Grindelwald was pretty cool and correct. It wasn't his tragic Pureblood lineage and Snake-tongue so much as the fact Purebloods were ITCHING to return to the 'Glory Days'.

Tom didn't invent any of the things he preaches. He was using the hot issues and concerns of the day to his advantage. A true politician.

...He is also very good at running cults, because he manages to weave quite opposing ideals together: + Purebloods are better than everyone else... ...Yet talent is still recognized. Half-Bloods and even Muggleborns are allowed into his inner circle. + He will make a world rules by Wizards... ...but offers space for 'dirty' beings society rejects. Giants, who have faced Genocide, and Werewolves, are offered land and purpose.

~~ Parseltongue is a language ~~

Sorry lol it just is a language. Ron learns a word or two from Harry and uses it to open the Chamber.

When it comes to Magical and non-Magical animals... its not a binary. Some animals are more magical than other animals. Pigs are notoriously hard to charm because they are very non-magical... unlike owls and cats, who can be very sensitive to magic. We see owls basically talk to Wizards all the time in body language. Cats, too - Sirius even talks to one, seeming an innate ability.

Snakes are likely in this camp. They are magically sensitive animals, who can talk effortlessly to Wizards whose magic vibes with theirs.

Once again thinking about the fact that Tom Riddle was able to gain power starting in school and the implications of it:

• Blood supremacy wasn’t as prevalent during his time, and maybe it was Tom Riddle’s own influence as Voldemort using blood supremacy as his platform that made it worse

• Blood supremacy was still as common, but always takes backseat to family connections, if he didn’t have that connection to Slytherin then maybe he never would’ve gained power

(In this case, there should be so much about them going wild for Harry then, being that he’s also a parselmouth)

• It was only because it was a connection to Slytherin that he was able to raise to power, if it had been a different bloodline then no one would’ve cared, which makes sense, Hogwarts is clearly so important to Magical Britain, personal connections to the Founders would be a huge deal

• It was just the parselmouth ability specifically, a magic that can’t be copied by anyone else, which also makes sense because they’re all so fucking obsessed with the idea of being naturally better than non purebloods that an ability that can only be inherited sounds like something they’d be drawn in by

(Real quick note, I hate when fics have someone learn parseltongue or treat it like an actual language, why tf would snakes (including common snakes because it’s a non-magic snake that Harry first talks to, and we can assume Riddle wasn’t running into magic snakes either at the orphanage) have a language you can learn. you’re breaking my immersion. Parselmouth only makes sense as a family ability, that’s why Harry hears it as just English, he’s not really speaking a different language, he’s using a magical ability, that’s why I think there also shouldn’t be words that don’t translate into parselmouth, yeah it makes sense if the snakes don’t understand specific words, but it shouldn’t be its own language!! It’s not like we’re only talking about magic snakes!!!)

(Also again, if it’s just the parselmouth ability they go crazy for, more people should be secretly excited by Harry having that ability)

• Tom Riddle is just a scarily competent cult leader and every modern setting of him should just be him running a different kind of cult

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

more laughingstock pleaseee? 💙 💚

Yes Yes Yes i have this very small soft scribble to offer <3

[cosmicdenro]

'rhm and wilhelm trying to hang out but their duties getting in the way so much so their relationship deteriorates throughout the months but in a way that makes them prone to jealousy of others getting to spend more time with the other and unable to figure out what the other even enjoys enough anynore as a gift' for tonight sir?

[emoreooo]

doomed valentines 🥀

aka what if kel and aubrey took over sweetheart’s castle ?

this is an au where if you interact with the keeper of sweethearts castle as anyone but omori, it unlocks a whole new optional level. you wake up in the picnic area with hero but no kel or aubrey. sweethearts castle is different and basil joins you for this level

the castle's main towers seem to have split into two, but the main building remains one, and smaller from the outside. but it turns out to be unnaturally spacious at times, as if the building was a psychological maze trying to separate... certain people apart

you find aubrey. she looks different, but happier. “it's like a princess' dream come true. it’s everything i could ever want and more.” she says, smiling at you. “now... all i need left is my lovely prince charming—”

“hey, guys !!”

enter kel.

“ugh.”

kel also looks different, if not for the fact hes wearing an obnoxious shade of pink, head to toe. he is happy to see you all. “everyone here LOVES me ! they respect me and trust me and all that kinda stuff. man, i feel so powerful ! im never leaving this place !”

that didnt seem to sit right, so hero intervened. “but.. if you stayed here, wouldn’t you miss everyone else ? omori, basil, me... mari ?”

“well, duh ! that’s why you guys will be staying with me too !”

that broke a new fight between kel and aubrey, but for the wrong reasons

it ends with aubrey dragging basil along with her, hero with kel, and you alone on the bridge connecting the two towers. you have a choice to follow one of them first. lets say, kel.

you head for kels tower and find hero talking with kel, trying to convince his brother.

“didja know ?? the sprout moles here love me so much they made me offerings, like, im a god or something ! pretty cool huh ?”

“..offerings ?”

“yeah ! oh man.. hero, youre not jealous, right ?”

“wh— no. its just.. a bit ridiculous.”

“...ridiculous ?” kels confused expression contorts into a smile, that of understanding. “i see whats going on. its okay, hero, i know its gotta be tough to be put to the side. and overlooked. bet its weird not being in the spotlight for once.”

you caught a quick flash of horror written on heros face. “kel.. are you saying this because—”

“but its ok ! as long as were here, neither of us will ever have to feel that way !”

remaining determined, hero put his foot down. “thats enough, kel. you cant stay here.”

“yea, thats a good one, bro.”

“im... serious. were leaving, kel.”

the younger boy stops laughing. ”...oh. youre— why ?”

“i dont think this place is anything like it seems. i think its a sham.”

kel barks with laughter.

“oh so when it benefits ME is it a sham. man, how selfish can you be ?”

“...what ?”

“you really cant stand it when its not all about you, huh ? but what about me ? what about kel ?”

“i-i think this place is affecting you. please, kel, listen to me.”

“no. if you wanna leave so bad, fine ! the sprout moles can send you out. but im not leaving. im happy here anyway, and you wont get it.”

with that, kel leaves you two in his tower. hero seems distracted, before suggesting you both go find basil

you head for aubreys tower, only to find a scared basil locked in a cell. upon freeing him, he stares over your shoulder.

“o-omori.” he whispers. “...behind you.”

“well, well.. well !”

enter aubrey.

“aubrey! why was basil locked in?” hero asks, perplexed.

“hm? well, he kept trying to leave! i couldnt let that happen, not when i was sharing my happiness with him.” aubrey frowns. “i thought he was my friend.”

basil looks terrified. “aubrey.. i am your friend.”

“hmhm, of course you are. friends dont leave each other behind, right omori?”

hero once again steps in. “aubrey, i think youre taking this too far. of course we want you to be happy, but kidnapping your friends isnt the way. this place is messing with your heads, so we should leave before it gets worse.”

but your path is blocked by kel in the doorway.

“that wont do.” aubrey hums behind you, brandishing her shiny pink bat. “no.. not at all. what do you think, kel ?”

“i think its rude to leave in the middle of a party. right, hero? you taught me that one!”

“kel..”

he then takes a bow as aubrey joins him. “so, friends, may we have this dance?”

“let us sweep the floor !”

boss battle mechanics !

you can not change aubrey or kels emotions even at the start of the battle. the only ones who can change their emotions are each other, so the best strategy is to adapt with your own party’s emotion play

there are 4 phases to this battle. a neutral state, tier one emotion, tier two, and lastly tier three, much like most emotion based bosses. between each phases, aubrey will make kel happier, while kel makes aubrey angrier. they are not made to have the sad emotion, however,

if you end third phase with an attack from hero, kel will start fourth phase with a depressed emotion instead of manic, giving your team good advantage on winning since he relies on speed. aubrey will still be furious, but its still one enemy disadvantaged

once you defeat them they will go snork mimi in your arms and you must carry them out of the castle and back to mari.

“aww, i guess its past their royal nap time !”

[icewindandboringhorror]

just a few little bits from the past few days

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

thinking about superheroes unfortunately

[sieglinde-freud]

thinking about them and banging my head against the wall again whats new. they are making me so emo. god. what the fuck

[novelconcepts]

not fic related but you and your wife seem so happy! any advice for a couple of newly married queer ladies?

Hey, I love any excuse to talk about being gay and happy! Congrats on being newly married! I dunno, my advice is always really straightforward. Like. Keep prioritizing communication, keep talking to each other about your day, your headspace, the stuff you love, the stuff that freaks you out. Keep that line open no matter how long you're together, because I really do think marriages fall apart when you start just assuming you can read one another's minds. My wife and I are always really careful to be honest with one another; for example, in the event that one of us is having a bad day and the other person's jokes aren't landing, 'cuz we're just sensitive that day, we talk about it. it soothes hurt feelings before they can really take root.

And find ways of making your own fun. Try new foods together, travel if you're into that, remind yourself that intimacy (if that's your bag) is an excuse to just play with one another and learn about the other person. Cherish the comfort of knowing your person is there for you no matter what, make sure you're on equal footing together, make sure you're allowing each other the space to change and grow and learn. And just take as much joy as you can out of being in love. It's not an easy thing, living in the world right now, but love makes it a damn sight more bearable. Queer love is awesome, queer joy is awesome. I wish you all the best, friend.

[lanternlightss]

sighs. oh how the human and inhuman meet together in their understandings of one another, we’re really in it now …