#This is a paper I wrote for college

[heartorbit]

revstar emu save me

[trabandovidas]

I love how yankis treat "i wrote a college paper on this once" as the highest proof of knowledge and insights like lmao bitch u didn't even write an article about it?? Or a thesis? Lmao, pathetic

[rustic-space-fiddle]

Listened to Hadestown again on my drive today. How did Eurydice remember flowers under her feet during “Flowers”? It had been so long since spring she didn’t even- oh. She wasn’t remembering real flowers. Just the way Orpheus made her feel when she was with him.

[iridescentoracle]

i know canon more or less says this can't be true but based on what we're told about him and his attitude in 4-1 i think apollo should be an absolute fount of knowledge of phoenix's past cases. he's a law nerd who actively looked up to phoenix, he might not have known about the gramarye trial and its aftermath but he has to have known about phoenix's previous cases bc otherwise it makes no sense for him to be SO insistent that phoenix has to be innocent—if he doesn't know anything about him why would he be so sure? if it weren't for the constraints of the medium i think he would know about the gramarye trial but it does get awkward for the writers when the characters know things the players don't so like i get it. i just think based on what we know of apollo, especially with his AA6 backstory factored in but frankly even without it just from his behavior in 4-1 alone, it would be more in keeping with apollo's personality for him to have gotten hold of every scrap of publicly available information about phoenix's trials in general and the gramarye trial in particular. in my heart he's written multiple papers on the gramarye trial and why phoenix was probably framed

[tequiilasunriise]

Annabel Lee & Fears: A Short Essay Based On Ep70

Here it is, folks, the truest crux of Annabel’s character, her deepest fears is not going mad or even people discovering she’s not as put together as she tries to appear, but rather:

Was that gambit of constant scheming and using others worth it, Annabel? Was always trying to think ten steps ahead and always keep yourself in a position of power and control truly worth it, because how can you ever be trusted when all you do is play 5D chess with everyone?

There is is, folks!!! Just like her greatest strength- her cunning willpower- is centered around a certain bright moon, Annabel’s greatest fear is rooted in Lenore. The deepest, darkest trenches of her soul, the one thing that would shatter her heart and send her lungs choking fer breath? The killing blow that would end her and make all these charades worthless? It’s Lenore seeing her constant conniving and asking Annabel, “Why would I be any different? You already have no problem using everyone else as a pawn, how could I ever possibly trust you, Annabel Lee?”

The way Annabel is SUCH a great morally grey character, y’all tell me you love hot villains yet many a time I’ve seen people calling Annabel too heartless. She’s the opposite! She cares!! SO MUCH!!! She would burn the world down if it meant kissing Lenore one last time, to the point where her deepest fear is losing Lenore in the process of trying to protect her. All Annabel knows is using manipulation to gain the upper hand because simply being born a woman in the Victorian era she was so throughly disadvantaged by such a horribly misogynistic society that girlypop had to scrape together any form of control she could. Annabel wants so badly to protect Lenore but all she knows are her own methods of protecting herself, which involves plausibility deniability and facades and sometimes sheer cruelty, and that’s where the conflict arises. From the start Annabel assumed Lenore and her had the same understanding of this ‘fake enemies’ ploy going on but surprise surprise babygirl, not everyone is overthinking four parallel universes ahead like you do. This boils over into her lover having doubts on what’s real and what’s not, which then culminates into Lenore asking if Annabel is using her affections as empty currency to get what she wants, and Annabel’s first move to tell Lenore to fucken kill her????

“To you alone, I have left myself completely defenseless.”

The drama of it all!! The shattered facade leading to exploding vulnerability of it all!! The dim sun sparking out into a heat death just to prove her sincerity of it all!!! The exposed innermost organs ripping out my heart with my bare hands and begging you, “Do you see it now? Do you see the way it beats for you and only you? Tell me you see it, tell me you see me…” of it all!!

Oh baby the way Annabel still retains this deep fear of Lenore not truly believing in the “only thing that’s real” to her, the way her lover’s ghost still lingers and haunts her and is then ripped up from her innermost psyche like a desecrated grave and given form by Ada’s power. The way, after all this time- and I mean all this time from Lenore’s constructed resurrection, to their relationship blossoming into a wedding, all the fucking way up to that bell tower scene, the fucken way Annabel still never truly let go of her fear that Lenore doesn’t see her, doesn’t see how she alone bashed through all of Annabel’s walls and made a home where her heart laid. I’m sure during their living relationship all the way until the wedding Annabel’s fears were greatly settled, but it’s the fucken way these panels implied that this wretched heartache never completely left Annabel’s guilt-wracked soul.

I just know, okay I just KNOW, that even up until she was putting her wedding dress on Annabel still questioned if she even deserved this happy ending because she still feel phantoms of guilt fer this betrayal. This comic only furthers this implication of unabsolved guilt when it’s made clear as day that Annabel’s biggest fear is Lenore not believing in her love. And before anyone argues how Annabel can currently feel guilt fer betraying Lenore when she hasn’t recovered the memory yet, I’ll argue back that from the very beginning of the comic these two were inexplicably drawn to each other even when they had NO memories. Therefore, even if she doesn’t have the explicit memory, I highly doubt Annabel’s subconscious would ever let go of something as huge as deeply hurting the one person she truly cared about in such a wretched way.

Fuck, dude, I mean Annabel’s greatest fear wasn’t even Lenore dying- which was already a huge thing if y’all remember her tearstreaked, panicked, “What is left? If she’s not here, what’s the point?”- no her greatest is Lenore!!! Not!!! Believing!! Her!!! Like yeah losing Lenore physically definitely would’ve cut so deep even her bones would bear the scars, but losing Lenore in the form of the other woman walking the same ground as her but choosing to stay away?? Call her fucking selfish because some people would rather have their other half still be alive even if they’re not by their side, but Annabel ain’t one of them that’s fer sure. Babygirl has spent a lifetime perfecting the craft of deceiving others fer her own gain, but the ONE TIME she’s genuine her heart is to be called nothing more but empty??? Oh babbyyy that’s gotta fucken hurt.

The thing is, I don’t think Annabel really loves herself all that much. I really don’t. A huge focus on self-preservation doesn’t necessarily mean one really loves themselves, and when we add the aforementioned guilt she carries? Plus, the fact that Annabel being forced to swallow down her anxiety attacks from a young age could easily lead to her having a rather sour view of her 'not normal' self? Yeah no yeah, I truly don’t think Annabel loves herself that much, if at all. So really, this line is adding immense insult to already grievous injury. Not only does Annabel deeply fear Lenore not believing her affections to be true, she also fears the New Yorker misconstruing her as nothing more but a shallow as hell, prissy, little pampered damsel, a role pretty much everyone else regulates her into whether she wants it or not (right from the beginning, before she even set her schemes in full effect, Annabel was already explaining, “Ada wanted a queen, so I gave her one”). Lenore, the only one Annabel had believed to ever really see her fer her, is now discrediting Annabel’s vulnerable affections AND seeing her as that unloving ice queen like everyone else?? Horrible terrible horrible!!! She may have a ribbon threatening to strangle her right now, but it’s clear that ghost!Lenore’s words are what truly cut her down to size. Y’all seeing that fucken pain in Annabel’s eyes? Her worst fear is just so… personal.

Which actually leads me to my next point, which is how just before Annabel’s worst fear is revealed in stark, horrifying detail, we see Prospero’s. Lemme just preface this by saying what Prospero went through is n o t any less terrible and is a super fucken mega valid fear/trauma, but let me cook y’all just hear me out. Prospero’s fear seems to be about medical malpractice and/or being conscious during a painful operation that likely went south (aka ‘oh shiiitttt he fucken DEAD-‘), and that’s fucking tragic as all hell. Yet, okay let me cook here, it’s more… I don’t want to say general, because that does NOT mean his fear is any less significant but it’s like. Way back when, death via medical bullshit was more or less fairly common, especially during wartimes (which is the era I headcanon Prospero to be from); meanwhile, Annabel’s fear is so uniquely hers, it’s borne of a culmination of specific experiences tied together by her relationship with Lenore.

By contrast of a more common fear vs something so deeply personal and specific to this one person- because it’s not just unrequited love, it’s being so vehemently denied and misunderstood by the ONE (1!) person who you wholeheartedly trusted in your entire life who also oops mega died on you- this distinction gives way to an almost more raw, more visceral feeling to Annabel’s fear sequence. Again!!! I am not undermining Prospero’s own trauma, I promise!!! But you have to admit that there’s something, from a narrative standpoint, that hits so much harder with how deeply personal Annabel’s fear is. The contrast is even more great when you look at how Prospero’s involved a buncha bloodied hands not really tied to any faces or even any indication of personhood like accessories, scars, etc etc. It could’ve been a group of anyone holding him down hurting him; on the flipside, Annabel is being restrained by one very specific person we see in full view. The faceless crowd who could’ve been anyone at anytime vs the lone perpetrator whose history you know like a second name. It’s just!!! So personal!!!

In conclusion, on the surface level, one would think a character so deeply ingrained in using deceptions and manipulation would have her greatest fear tie into having her true nature revealed to everyone she’d fooled, but then it turns out it’s the complete fucking opposite. What homegirl fears the most is her truest, innermost self not being believed and accepted by just one (1!) person. The way it’s framed is just so heartstabbingly personal, especially when you parallel it to a previous fear sequence just a few panels preceding it. This is it, your honor, this is Annabel’s deepest driving force broken down to its bare essentials. To hell with whatever reputation she’s carefully crafted! Who cares what anyone else thinks of her if she doesn’t believe her, if she doesn’t SEE her. Really, truly see her. Lenore is the defining point that Annabel has revolves around so wholeheartedly, and there’s no point to anything anymore if Annabel loses her. This crux of her character, OHHH BBAAABBYY it’s just so well done because we, as the audience, have been given clear evidence to build up this narrative of Annabel’s characterization fer so long now and to finally see it come together in a fiery explosion of lesbian angst with this latest chapter??? Gods, the writing of Nevermore will never not drive me absolutely insane in the membrane.

[caeliflammae]

relistening to the magnus archives and ohhhhhh. ohhhh. the foreshadowing of tragedy ohhhh...

[actualbird]

Random thought. Pyromaniac Luke. Except he's trying to hide those pyromaniac tendencies and the NXX figured it out on day one because Artem mentioned a problem and Luke immediately went "we could burn it down" "that's a person" "oh"

as a luke kinnie who has pryomaniac tendencies, this ask is the PERFECT TO ME

i love this. i love luke having a probably unhealthy obsession with fire and starting fires. i like to think that this trait would be funniest if it didnt start during his NSB days (which wld seem logical) but INSTEAD began when he was a wee child experimenting with matches and stuff. and oh, mc's parents were horrified at the normally well-behaved lukey setting fire to scraps of paper in their backyard.

luke: isnt it cool?

mc: i dunno, i dont get it

luke, fire reflecting in his eyes uncannily: it's so pretty

mc's parents barging in with a fire extinguisher: NOPE NOPE NOPE

in high school, he probably bought a lighter from a convenience store and mc nearly had a heartattack because she thought he started smoking but no. no, what he was up to was more bizarre. he'd just watch the flame flicker. it was oddly calming to him

when he reached his NSB days, he probably solved a lot of missions with explosives. and it worked, the explosives were Productive At Achieving The Mission's Purpose, but aaron probably found it super weird how gung-ho luke always was at setting things ablaze, especially when luke would linger at sites on fire just to watch things go up in flames.

aaron: when there is a FIRE you are supposed to GET AWAY FROM IT

luke: but it's so nice being around fire :(

aaron: there is something wrong with you that even i cant fix (affectionate)

and now, at the NXX Team. im screaming at luke suggesting to set a PERSON on fire. unhinged. on brand for him. but now that he's re-assimilated into normal society and no longer has access to NSB explosives, he doesnt have an outlet!! the pyromaniac in him is scratching at the walls of his skull!!!

artem, trying to be supportive but also Not down on setting people on fire: why don't we have a team barbecue? you can man the grill

luke, bad at cooking but good at fire: SWEET

the barbecue he grills is rather....charred. but he had fun, and thats what matters to the team

[poisonpercy]

So I’ve mentioned that I’m in a research class this semester that’s required by my major. Anyways, we’re writing different sections of our paper every few weeks or so, and I just got my feedback from my introduction section and it literally makes me want to cry. My prof said that I really have a knack for empirical writing and that my intro is one of the most well-written and comprehensive introductions that an undergrad has ever submitted to him 🥹🥹

[crybaby-bkg]

Is it rude to say that you hadn’t expected Dabi to have had his own car? Not because of money issues, but because of a few reasons being: 1) he walks everywhere he goes, and 2) he’s quite literally never mentioned having a car nor a license before.

But you sit with him, in his old beat up bucket that jerks every time he hits a bump in the road, fighting for dear life. Your window doesn’t roll all the way up and bugs keep flying in, and it doesn’t help that Dabi is going 80 in a 55. You would hold onto the little life support grip thing above the window, but it looks like there hasn’t been one on the passengers side since he received the car.

You know he’s going this fast because, not only does it scare you, but it makes him hit the potholes a little harder. Which in turn makes your thighs and stomach and boobs jiggle more than usual. You should’ve known he had another motive when he insisted you ride with him to the convenience store, especially the one across town when there was 7 others he’d passed in the meantime.

But you’re too busy trying to keep your head from hitting the roof of the car, and your tits from falling out of your low cut shirt. Oh, this fucker must’ve had everything planned out the moment you walked through the door.

“Can you slow down a little?” You yell over the bass of his too loud rock music, one hand gripping his that rests on your thigh, the other holding your chest tightly. “My boobs are gonna fall outta my goddamn bra by the next pothole!”

But that only encourages Dabi, makes him throw a grin your way as he glances to how your chest jiggles again with another bump in the road. He laughs at your screech for him to look at the road, turning his eyes to comply with your request, his chin still turned in your direction.

“Well, sounds to me like I’m not going fast enough.” He teases, softly steering his wheel to the nearest pothole, a deep one. He snaps his eyes over to you the moment he hits it, smirking at your squeak when he sees your chest bounce out of your grip before you regain it again quickly.

He glances up to you, grinning even wider when you’re already glaring at him. He can’t help the squeeze of your thigh, blue eyes already zoning in on the next dip in the road for him to hit. He’s not stopping until your complaint becomes reality, and only then, he’ll find a convenience store.

[ravenkings]

it's giving:

[ehlnofay]

Efri thinks she’s found the library.

“Woah,” she says, letting the door swing shut behind her. (Loudly. The doors here are so heavy.) Her voice echoes off the stone walls. She feels like she’s stepped into some story, like an exaggerated version of what a mage’s college would be.

It’s not that she’s never heard of a library before or anything. She understands them, conceptually. But the most books she’s ever seen at once was the small set of shelves in Rorik’s manor, and even that blew her away the first time – all the pretty bindings and close-written words. This is –

The College library is something else. It’s a lot bigger than a set of shelves.

Winding, narrow hallways bend and squiggle around like a set of earthworms trying to squish together to make a solid shape with no gaps, and every single wall is lined with books. Each shelf is like a rainbow of covers and colours. Half the spines are thick as at least two fingers put together and written over with words she can’t read. Efri has to bring Sissel here. She’d lose her mind.

“Woah,” she says again, and steps further in to look at the books on the shelves. All the bindings in blacks and blues and browns. One has the title written down the spine in gold lettering that shines. She brings up a hand to touch it.

“What are you doing?” someone demands. Efri stops. She looks.

It’s a grumpy-looking orc man in a bright yellow tunic, glaring at her much fiercer than seems necessary for the crime of looking at books in a library. He looks like he might be old – his hair’s white enough that his beard’s the same colour as his sharp sticking-out teeth, and he’s wrinkly.  Efri wrinkles her nose and tells him, “I’m looking at the books.”

“Wash your hands first,” he barks, turning his much-too-angry glare on Efri’s hovering arms. “You look like the sort of person to have grubby fingers.”

It’s true, but Efri is offended anyway. She wipes her palms hard against her orange wool skirt. (The skirt is grey at the hem from playing in dirty snow. It does not make her any cleaner.)

“Who’re you?” she asks the rude man. “I haven’t met you yet.”

He does not stop scowling. Maybe he’s perpetually angry. Maybe he just has an unfortunate face. But he says, “I’m the Arcaeneum archivist. Urag gro-Shub.”

The Arcaeneum, that’s what the library’s called. Very fancy name. (Sissel will love it. And has Kazari been here yet? They might like it too. She’s pretty sure they can read, though probably not these fiddly little paper books.) “What’s an archivist?”

“I maintain the library.” The archivist Urag gro-Shub might be grumpy and not very nice but at least he didn’t do the thing where he sighed all annoyed at Efri’s question. “I choose when and to whom the books are lent, and I ensure they are not damaged. Hundreds of years have gone into assembling this collection, and it’s going to stay pristine.”

“Is that book hundreds of years old?” Efri asks, pointing to the showy tome with the writing in gold.

Urag barely glances at it, dark eyes flashing in the vague direction of her pointing finger and flashing back again. “No. That’s historical fiction written in 185. That copy was made within these last ten years.”

“You didn’t even look at it,” Efri says.

“Bejewelled Tragedy. Four hundred pages. Horrendously inaccurate. Frankly, it wasn’t worth acquiring in the first place. Feel free to look for yourself.”

Efri will take his word for it.

“This section is for the books that are up for purchase,” he tells her, gesturing. “The worthwhile ones – and the old ones, if those are what you’re looking for – are further in.”

Efri squints down the passages again, their bright lights and cosy winding walls. She can’t tell where this section ends and the next one starts. She feels like if she went any further into the library she’d get lost. She says, “Thanks. I’m Efri, by the way.”

“I know. You’re that kid who showed up.”

“One of,” Efri corrects.

Urag keeps talking, rolling right past like he didn’t hear her. “Don’t know why in the name of all that’s been called holy they let you in. You’d think this would be a step too far, even –” he huffs and snaps his jaw shut, tusks digging into his moustache. He says, “At any rate. You’re here now, and you’re subject to the same rules as everyone else. You treat these books as careful as if they were your own firstborn children, understand? And if there’s something you want to find – or especially take out of the Arcaeneum – you come talk to me.”

Efri nods obediently. What time would it be right now? The lecture Sissel went to was almost two hours, and it’s definitely only been about one. She asks, “Are there any books with pictures?”

She’s not sure if it’s just the shape of his mouth or if he’s sneering. Urag says, “That depends. Are you going to respect the books enough to try to read the words too?”

“That depends,” Efri retorts, nettled. (She gets that he’s protective of the collection, but there’s no need to be rude about it.) “Are your books going to teach me how to read?”

Urag stares.

“You can’t read,” he replies, sounding vaguely offended, as though she, at six years of age, had refused to attend the village school for the express purpose of spiting him four years later.

Efri pulls a book out of the shelf without looking at it, ignoring the way he huffs. There’s nothing embossed on the spine or the cover, but there’s a title scribbled on the first page. “That’s a B,” she says, pointing to the first letter of the first word, and then stops, squinting. Switches her focus to a different word. “That one says off.”

“Of,” Urag corrects over her shoulder.

Efri shrugs. She snaps the book shut and slips it back into its place on the shelf. “I can read a bit,” she says. “I know my letters and that. The books here are just big.”

And given that she’d failed to correctly identify of, even small stories might be a bit beyond her skill level.

Urag is quiet. Efri looks back at him, mostly expecting him to still be looking affronted, as though she’d stolen food out of his mouth and thrown it at a wall – instead he looks oddly, blankly thoughtful.

“We don’t have anything suitable for early readers,” he says, tapping his fingers against his leg. “That might be an oversight.”

Efri really doesn’t think it is. “It’s a big fancy library, right? I think it’s normal to just collect the big fancy books.” All the ones that are hundreds of years old, or about magic or important things, or both.

Urag’s knuckles rap against a buckle on his belt. He says, “No! First misconception. A worthwhile collection archives all the work on its focus possible. The Arcaeneum is a collection of knowledge in every form. Therefore, we have as many books as we can access, on all sorts of topics. Half of them aren’t even good!”

“You sell the bad ones,” Efri says, trying to follow.

“Some of them. If they’re wholly without merit. Mostly I sell duplicates. Or works no-one has ever used. There’s things to be learned from everything – if not now, later. I’ll think on it.”

He looks back at Efri, looking a bit like he might have forgot she was there. “Regardless. Do you need anything, or can I get back to work?”

He’s still all rude and prickly. Efri bristles a bit. “I wasn’t keeping you,” she says, flicking her eyes again over the strange and wandering walls.

Urag sighs again like he’s got any right to be annoyed with her, but then he asks, “Would you like a tour of the Arcaeneum?”

“Do you want to give it?”

“You’ve already distracted me,” he says. Adds less irritably, “And I enjoy a chance to show off the collection. Long as you don’t interrupt me.”

“I’m going to interrupt you,” Efri informs him. She doesn’t like to be told what to do.

She lets him show her the library.

[loregoddess]

listen I know I don't talk AA or DGS a lot anymore, but like, I would go insane if we ever got an AAI-style DGS spinoff where Asougi and Lestrade got to be chaotic besties

[louisapennyfeather2021]

I can't believe that in this day and age this needs to be said, but here we are:

STOP👏SELLING👏FANFICTION👏👏👏👏

Copyright Law, my friends. In the front of every book you read and in every end credit of a show or movie, there are Copyright warnings. LISTEN TO THEM👏👏👏👏

Selling fanfic is quite literally grounds for the original creator to sue you. Not only will YOU be in severe debt because you will successfully be sued, but that creates the perfect opportunity for these Anne Rice control freaks to get fanfiction banned entirely.

So unless you want to say "Bye bye!" to your favorite fics, I suggest you STOP being greedy and STOP selling something that was never meant to have monetary value! Fanfiction is art, but it's art that cannot have a price on it and that is a sacrifice that we as authors/readers willingly make. Binding fanfiction into a book is a laborious, but because YOU do not own any of the characters/world building in the writing, selling it is still illegal.

Fanfiction is something that not only builds online communities, but it also helps get some people through the hardest times in their lives. Sometimes a good fanfic is the only thing keeping someone motivated. Please don't be the reason that goes away.

I know that a large number of the people binding and selling fanfiction do not see the reasoning behind these warnings because they believe their work making the physical book is what they are selling, but I plead with anyone who has considered buying from these people to heavily reconsider🙏🙏🙏

[brynnmclean]

Also just. Claudia's everything. That's my darling girl. My love, I am so so so sorry.

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

My drafts page went belly up and this is why ANY long post I make is first made into a google or word document beforehand.

It won't be too big of a deal to copy-paste more of it later on when I'm done but I have LEARNED thankfully.

Also RIP my search history after I finish this up LMFAO.

[cctinsleybaxter]

rare youtube commenter wisdom