#almost decided not to post this one either

[lara-prism-light]

Well, that's a description!😂

The nerd(Alphiys) is antagonized by the fandom because she experimented on other monsters to increase their lifespan, but this resulted in them melting into each other.

She feels a lot of guilt about this and even almost killed herself (or at least that is implied) until she meets Undyne, with whom they become close and eventually at the end of the game you have to bring the two together as a sapphic couple.

At the end of the game she decides to tell the truth to the families and they can now live with the relatives who were experimented on, even though they are melted into each other.

Yeah that's a fucked up story line but in the end she's not a bad person, just a flawed person who made mistakes. She's not so much a nerd as she is an otaku, an anime fan.

Also the "stripper robot" she made is Mettaton and he's not a stripper, he's a TV star for the entire underground. He has a trans story making him a trans icon in the fandom. He was a ghost who couldn't find the "right/perfect cup" until he met Alphiys and she made his body, making him corporeal (it's a whole lore of ghosts in Undertale)

The "Milf", also known as the goat mom (Toriel), was the queen of the underground and had a son with the king.

In short, something tragic happened to her son and the king proclaimed a new law that to leave the underground they would have to take seven human souls, and therefore every human who fell would have their souls taken for him.

This is not something he likes but it is for the good of his people, Toriel did not agree with this and fled to the Ruins (the first area of the game) where she took care of it, but every time a human fell(it is heavily implied that they might have been children), she would try to keep them safe and in the Ruins, but one by one they either died or managed to get out and met their end and their souls were taken for the king. That is until the game's protagonist arrives.

People in the fandom antagonize her for abandoning her husband and her kingdom, trying to force the protagonist to stay in the Ruins forever, and simply letting the humans leave to their end. Honestly both she and the king have their flaws in everything that happens in the game, they are neither right or wrong in their actions and clearly do what they do out of guilt and grief.

That was my best explanation of what this post is about.

I love women

[bballesbolol]

The Game We Play

Paige x Azzi boarding school roommate AU

Warnings: none

a/n: sorry y’all the Fourth of July hit me like a bus…needed a few days to reconnect with nature. On the bright side you miiiiight be getting a double update!! (Plus a one shot if you’re good)

wc: 3.3k

Chapter 3

Azzi:

Azzi sat in a cubicle in her school's library. The cold plastic of the chair seemed to grow more and more uncomfortable by the minute. She had decided that she wouldn’t leave for the gym until her homework was 100% finished, which unfortunately meant she would be locked in this library until around 4:30.

She silently cursed herself for her academic dedication. she could be doing this after the gym in her warm bed—or, not at all—but no. Library cubicle it was. But she couldn’t be mad at herself—fully, at least. It wasn’t even entirely her fault she was here. It was Paige’s fault that she had missed the half an hour of notes that demanded her attention now.

***

Azzi’s lack of sleep was apparent. Her eyes were heavy, and it felt like her brain had run a marathon. She had put on her blue light glasses in an attempt to curb the lingering threat of a headache, which didn’t seem to be working. She was nearing the end of her work, but but the pounding in her head was threatening to make her give out before her willpower.

The slides from her history lecture glowed on her screen, her wrist cramping as she scribbled down the last of the information she needed. she let out a sigh of relief and closed her notebook, sliding it back into her backpack along with her computer. She slung the bag over her shoulder and B-lined for the locker room, pulling her phone out of her back pocket and glancing at it as she went.

For some reason, her eyes were drawn to her snapchat notifications, skimming through them to see if Paige had texted her.

She hadn’t, of course, because Azzi was supposed to reach out first. Unfortunately, she still wasn’t sure if she would even want to spend the whole year living with Paige. They had only been talking for what, 2 days? It all felt very fast. And she was not a decisive person, not in the slightest. Actually, anybody around her would tell you that she was the most indecisive person they’d ever met. It took her a month to decide if she even wanted to go to Montverde in the first place, it would take more that one conversation to pick her roommate.

She moved on to instagram, where she refreshed her page and was greeted with an image of Paige. She was going up for a layup, in her Hopkins uniform which billowed around her like it was a size too big, her blonde hair pulled back into a bun with a thin nike headband holding back her baby hairs.

Azzi averted her eyes from Paige, instead focusing on the familiar graphic. The word “Selected” was pasted underneath the image of Paige, and the under armor logo, along with a date, sat to the right of the image. It was the same template Azzi had posted to her own instagram earlier that day.

Of course.

Azzi had almost forgotten that Paige happened to be one of the top players in the country, not just the girl in her DM’s who decided to make it her life’s goal to annoy her. How could she not expect her to be there too? For some reason the thought that they could both go had slipped her mind entirely.

But, the more she thought about it, the better this opportunity seemed. She would get to meet Paige in person before the school year, maybe even discover if the annoying had an off button. And, she couldn’t scope out her talent too. See how hard she’d have to work to get that starting spot at school. Either way, it was a chance to get to know her, for better or for worse.

She let a sly smile slip across her face and screenshotted the image, clicked the share button, and then Paige's contact on snap. She sent the screenshot as well as an accompanying chat.

Me

> delivered

you stalking me bueckers?

She reached the locker room door and slid her phone back into her pocket as she headed towards her locker. She grabbed the handle, pulled, and it swung open with an echoey clang, amplified by the bang of her gym bag hitting the side of the locker as she pulled it out. she grabbed her phone from her back pocket, dropped it in the bottom of her locker. She unbuttoned her jeans, pulling them off and replacing them with a pair of sweatpants, before changing into her sports bra.

She was about put on her tank top when she was interrupted by her phone buzzing once, amplified by the metal of the locker. it buzzed a second time, then a third.

The fourth buzz made it clear that whoever this was demanded her full attention immediately. She dropped the tank top and grabbed her phone from the locker.

paigebuckets05 sent you a chat ■

Of course, because who else?

Paige 🏀

oh yeah

hardcore

you should look into a restraining order tbh

Paige’s bitmoji was still peeking out in chat, waiting for a reply. Azzi rolled her eyes at the sarcasm and replied.

Me

maybe I will

already stalked me on instagram, now you’re moving on to real life?

honestly i’m terrified

Paige’s response was almost immediate. Maybe because she’d been lurking, or maybe because she felt the need to clear her name from the crime of instagram staking. Like it would be the end if the world if Azzi saw her as a pursuer. And maybe it would be for her, it’d break the whole nonchalant persona that the girl tried so hard to curate.

Paige 🏀

wait wait

lemme get this straight for u

i did NOT stalk u on insta

ur acc just happened to be on the commitments page for our school 😌

practically fell into my lap

Azzi caught herself nearly giggling at her phone. She let her lips begin to curl into a smile—immediately stopped herself when she realized—and sent back a reply.

Me

suuuuure

she snapped a pic of herself giving a side eye and sent it along with her chat.

Paige opened the snap, seemingly lingering on it before her bitmoji popped back up in chat.

Paige 🏀

shut up

u in the gym?

Okay, so she was looking at her snap—long enough to scope the lockers in the background and maybe the fact that Azzi was just in a sports bra—something she had forgotten in the heat of the moment. Paige was still typing at the bottom of her screen. After a moment she sent a third chat.

Paige 🏀

prolly should get back to that if you wanna stand a chance at this summit

Azzi scoffed, because this was still Paige, of course she’d find a way to be irritating. Good thing for her was she could be irritating right back.

Me

oh shut up

first think i’m doing at this camp is bodying you

She had to hold herself back from adding “it’d be easy too”. She was interrupted by Paige’s response as she debated sending the extra jab.

Paige 🏀

wouldn’t that break the restraining order?

This girl—

At least she was committed to the bit, but man, she really knew how to push her buttons.

Azzi forced her face into a frown and sent back a snap of her flipping off the camera before turning off her phone and throwing it down onto her gym bag, focusing instead on putting on the tank top that lay discarded on the locker room floor.

She decided that she needed to leave her phone in the locker room. Paige had already been enough of a distraction today, she didn’t need her interrupting her workout too. She would just have to suffer through whatever music the football team was blasting.

She took a deep breath before opening the door to her school's weight room. On a normal day she usually needed to claw her way through lacrosse boys and off-season football players to get to the machines she needed. But to her surprise, the gym was relatively empty. and silent. Guess all the meatheads decided to take a day off.

uhg.

She hated silent workouts, but she wanted to be in and out today. She was already running late from catching up on the lecture she missed, and she planned on shooting around before heading home. If she wanted to get out on time, she would have to stay as far away from her phone as possible. Something about Paige got under her skin in a way that made it impossible to not bicker with, especially when she seemed to not be able to turn off the whole cocky shithead performance.

The workout consisted of hitting biceps, triceps, and shoulders, followed by intervals on the assault bike—because apparently she hated herself and didn’t want to be able to lift her arms tomorrow. Long story short, by the time she finished her upper body felt like a noodle cooked way past al dente. she glanced up at the clock.

5:30.

She could about afford an hour to shoot around, but at this point she didn’t know if her arms could take it. Still, she dragged herself back into the locker room to change. If there was one thing she prided herself on, it was her discipline, because lord knows she was NOT heading into this gym out of her own free will. She would finish this workout no matter what, even if she had to fight through dead arms and nagging potential roommates. The latter, however, seemed to be the least of her worries.

she grabbed her phone from out of her gym bag and was greeted with one blonde blue-eye’d bitmoji lurking in her Notification Center. Shocker. It felt like Paige had made it her life’s mission to harass this stranger until she cracked. Oh well, she’d just have to make her wait.

She clicked on the notification, and opened Paige’s snap, which was a close up of her stupid, smug face. Azzi tapped the image to close it, but was greeted with another snap, this time of Paige flexing at the camera, captioned “I got u beat anyway”.

Azzi snorted at the image, because, well—Paige certainly did not have her beat. She had muscle, of course, but in the same way that everybody does. It was definetly enough to move her arms back and forth, but certainly nothing to tote around. If Paige wanted to be a little shit, she should at least be able to back it up. Azzi thought for a moment, but decided if Paige wants to be annoying, she’ll do it right back. Azzi posed, flexing her bicep and snapping a pic, captioning it “do you?”

She immediately threw her phone down, partially because she needed to get ready to go hoop, but also from the massive second hand embarrassment she just gave herself. She just took a bicep pic like a thirst-trapping 13 year old boy—and didn’t even think twice before sending it to this girl. She found herself wondering where Paige got the absolute nerve to do this shit all the time, because once was enough to make her want to crawl into a hole and die.

Azzi don’t even bother to check her phone. Couldn’t. She had to let the regret die out for a little bit. She turned her attention to pulling off her sweatpants and slipping on her basketball shorts, rolling them once so they sat higher up her thighs. she grabbed her AirPods—she was NOT having another silent workout—and her water bottle and headed out to the gym.

But she wasn’t planning on having too hard of a workout. Just shooting around. Something peaceful. Something familiar. Something low-impact because she definetly couldn’t take a real workout right now. So, after a moment of going back and forth, she decided it would be fine if she left her phone in her pocket. For the sake of the music, of course.

Paige:

Paige had been trying to focus on her homework. Key word: Trying. But Azzi had snapped her about the Under Armor summit, which had so rudely forced Paige’s unyielding attention to be averted away from whatever assignment sat on her desk and towards annoying her—apparently a little too much.

She had peeked in the back of Azzi’s snap—just being observant. Azzi’s bare shoulders and the rows of lockers behind her had given away that she was about to do some kind of training. So, she used it as a conversation starter.

When she told Azzi to get back to the gym she had meant it playfully, but clearly this girl had taken it to heart, because she had been on delivered for a hot minute.

Obviously she didn’t really need to be back in the gym. God, in the two days that Paige had been talking to Azzi it felt like she lived in the gym. Maybe she just felt the need to showboat her athleticism to Paige, some sort of twisted intimidation tactic.

Well, two could play that game. Paige had received an empty threat from Azzi about bodying her at camp, and instead of playing it off, she responded in a way that could only be described as uniquely Paige. She made some joke restraining order, to which Azzi responded with a picture of her flipping off the camera, and instead of laying off, Paige pushed back at Azzi harder.

She snapped a picture of her flexing one arm, which she lovingly captioned “I got you beat anyway” and sent it.

And yet again, Paige was left on delivered. Must be a theme with this girl huh?

Paige had tried to focus on her homework again, but her attempts seemed futile. Her notebook remained untouched, her computer had turned off long ago, and she was slumped over, head resting on her arm, scrolling through tik tok. It had been around 45 minutes since she last snapped Azzi, and none of her friends from home had been quite as interesting to talk to. She had tried to stop herself from nagging her any further, she guessed that Azzi was locked in to her workout, she should have time to talk to her after.

Her back was feeling sore from being twisted in her current slumped over position. In an attempt to remedy the ache Paige abandoned the idea of finishing her homework, and instead moved to her bed, where she stretched out on her back and returned to scrolling.

But even her for you page was offering little refuge from her current problem. She scrolled between basketball highlights, dorm move in’s, and commitment announcements. For some reason her tik tok had decided to become incredibly relevant to her problems. Speaking of—

her phone vibrated in her hand, and a Snapchat banner dropped down from the top of her screen.

azzi.fudd35 sent a snap ■

Her finger tapped on the banner automatically, opening Snapchat.

She was greeted with Azzi’s arm, more specifically her bicep, which was slightly glistening with sweat from her workout. She stared for maybe a second too long. She was definetly strong, it was obvious that it was from more than just basketball. Bigger than her for sure. Solid. Okay, definitely staring for too long.

She had assumed Azzi was in the gym, like basketball gym, not in the gym like lifting weights and being crazy jacked gym. She finally tapped off of the image, trying to find a way to respond that wouldn’t make her seem like a fan. She settled on ignoring it entirely and finding something else to bug her about.

Me

U not getting any shots up?

holy slacker

I know you must be busy but come on 🙄

Perfect. She went back to scrolling though her tik tok, where she was interrupted by a surprisingly timely response from Azzi.

azzi.fudd35 sent a snap ■

azzi.fudd is typing…

azzi.fudd sent a chat ■

Making up for lost time?

Paige opened her snap, which was an image of a gym—because of course Azzi was getting shots up after weight room, because somehow this girl was the perfect super-athlete.

Azzi Fudd

I don’t see you out shooting rn

I think you’re gonna need to lock in or else I’m kicking your ass

Paige scoffed at her bold assumption. Her? She’s in 8th grade—even though she’s a little jacked and somewhat skilled—Paige still had her beat one on one. She had to.

Me

my ass?

yeah right

im going undefeated 1 on 1 and that’s on god

Azzi Fudd

dont be too cocky

im just saying I haven’t seen you in the gym

You haven’t seen me at all, actually. She couldn’t help the fact that she didn’t constantly snap this girl from the gym. But, she could certainty defend herself.

Me

I worked out this morning

you wouldn’t know bc u were prob asleep

I could still beat you if I didn’t tho

Azzi Fudd

you know I’m trying to work out right?

Honestly? Probably the only thing she did know about this girl for certain. That and the fact that she was fed up right now. She was certainly getting under her skin, and had thoroughly distracted her from the fact that she’d spend a solid minute starting at her arm five minutes ago. She typed out her reply and sent it.

Me

you could just ignore me 🤷‍♀️

Azzi Fudd

yk what you’re right!!

i feel like I’ll be doing that a lot

might as well get a head start

Paige sent back a snap of her best smug grin, which was once again met with a big fat delivered.

Okay, Azzi didn’t like to be poked on the basketball side of things. Noted.

Paige let out a frustrated sigh and rolled over onto her stomach. Something told her that Azzi would leave her with her thoughts for a while.

***

It was 8:36 pm. Paige was almost sure that Azzi was home by now, and maybe she had blown off a little steam in her shoot around. She hoped so, anyway.

Azzi had still not answered Paige’s nagging question: to room, or not to room?

She decided to bite the bullet and ask her flat out, hoping that maybe Azzi had taken her time to think it out. She took her time with the message, hoping that it came across as sincere as she had meant it to.

Me

yk you never said if you wanted to room with me for sure

did you ever decide?

ik its a really quick turnaround

But roommate forms are due pretty soon

She waited in the chat for a beat. Azzi’s bitmoji popped into the chat, confirming that she was not busy, and had in fact just been ignoring her. Wonderful.

Azzi Fudd

You know you haven’t been making your case any better for yourself?

If anything you’ve given me every reason not to room with you

She was right about that. But she couldn’t help it if that was just her personality, it would hurt her chances more if she tried to be someone else just to get Azzi to room with her. That situation would have been sure to crash and burn as soon as they actually moved in together. Paige was going to be unapologetically herself, for better or for worse. She just hoped now that it was for the better.

Me

I can’t help it

I am who I am 🤷‍♀️

Azzi Fudd

childish?

Okay, maybe she was asking for that one.

Me

your words not mine

I’m an open book

Still haven’t answered my question

Azzi Fudd

consider this your roomate probation

Paige looked at the chat, head cocked to the side. probation? like jail? Did this girl always speak in riddles? she brushed it off and shot back her reply.

Me

sooo is that a yes?

a breath, and then:

Azzi Fudd

unfortunately.

[emberunderscore]

yippee new language time here we go

connor said its the "Batran language", and that we dont have the full alphabet, but when has that ever stopped me?

this has been confirmed to say "Star Hopper", by connor in the discord

this is a postcard Tad has,

with the letters we know from the first image we get ____t___s

__o_

___r_

and well its a post card, and the letters line up with the ones we know so we get greetings from ___r_

HOWEVER, despite these words lining up, there is slight differences in some of the letters

we know this is an R, but the little dot above it is not present in what i've assumed to ALSO be an R.

the most common reason for variation in letters like this could be capital letters, as this variation is seen throughout the comparison, which- assuming the dots indicate capitals, would mean that the first image is actually "STAR HOPPER", after i noticed this variation with the dots, i noticed those little lines under the T and E

which i had previously not noticed due to the line details around the writing, subconciously ignoring it as decoration, but i reckon these are also indicators of a capital letter.

some letters, however are the same, i dont see an obvious variation between the S, which could be explained by some letters just look the same in both case forms, which - potentially coincidentally, Ss does.

(coming back to this point actually, the more i look at the two images the more i notice the slight difference between the two S letters,

and i realise when i was transcribing these letters i did in fact struggle with knowing if they were the same letter- so some variation, while more subtle, is still there)

however there is a third variation, in the letter R,

all three of these are the same symbol, but one with a dot at the top, one with nothing extra, and one with a line on the bottom. three variations begin to make me question my case theory, and wonder if these are in fact all different letters and the postcard simply doesnt say "Greetings from.." but for a postcard with the confirmed letter patterns we already have it simply does not make sense for the words to be *anything else* so. unless this language has three cases for some god damn reason, or its a matter of handwriting - capitals and lower case letters can sometimes be depicted differently depending on font, if i had to assume, i would say the postcard is printed using a font, whereas i would imagine the star hopper is handpainted (this being said. i have not gotten around to watching the vod the cutscene that first image is from happens- so)

i struggled with the last line of the postcard, as that's almost certainly a place name, meaning i cant brute force it as i can with the other words as it probably isnt a real word at all, though i have been able to assume that the whole thing is in capitals, and that gives me "AN_RA" with the funky letter in the middle, i think could be a Y - spelling "ANYRA", but that is entirely speculation. also assuming this whole word is in capitals, would disprove the fact that STAR is entirely in capitals as the R matches in case whereas the A does not.

enjoy me trying to force my way through figuring out which way the capitals go

Greetings ST R <- have to be capitals >> if 3/4 are capitals, A also has to be because STaR does not make sense to write.

STAR + Greetings aN_Ra <- does not check out

Ar_nA + gREETINGS also does not check out

The thing throwing me off here is the repeating G in what i've assumed to be Greetings, since one has a dot and the other doesn't and the case theory i have is correct either the word starts with a capital or it is all capitals except the first g. which DOES NOT MAKE sense.

so. uh . ive decided to give up on trying to brute force it like that, sometimes it does not make sense and theres nothing i can do. i will leave you with my current notes, they're handwritten so i apologise for the messy transcribing

the order is completely nothing, it does not signify which one i believe to be the capital, it is the order i saw them with my eyes

i am extremely behind on tad lore, and im sure thats the place this language is gonna crop up the most so i need to get on that YESTERDAY

[thevoicefromanotherworld]

"YOU MUST WAKE UP, NOW"

Can't believe I've never posted a fic with Morpheus on here, so there you go,!

(He's one of my favorite cinema characters and I just adore this show SOOO MUCH lol)

I hope you like it! 😊🖤

You'd always wanted to meet the love of your life.

Of course, you were one of those girls who only left the house when absolutely necessary, and you hoped that one day someone would bump into you on the street, grab the things you were carrying, and when you looked up, you'd fall madly in love with that person.

That's why you didn't expect what was about to happen. Like every day, you went to sleep after your job at the library.

You loved your job; being surrounded by books and giving other people the opportunity to be surrounded by them felt like your life's work.

You were so tired that when your head touched the pillow, you fell into a deep, restful sleep, something that had never happened to you in your twenty-two years of life.

It wasn't that you had trouble sleeping, but it wasn't that you fell asleep instantly, as had happened in that moment.

You were surprised when you suddenly woke up.

Or at least that's what you felt like, but when you turned around and looked around, you realized that this place wasn't your room.

You looked at the enormous forest in front of you, dimly lit by several small torches on either side of the path you were standing on.

As if you were Dorothy, you decided to follow the path, thinking that if she had done it and reached the Wizard of Oz's palace, you must be getting somewhere too.

Of course, you didn't expect the path to end at the foot of a huge staircase, where at the top was a kind of throne, on which someone was sitting.

You couldn't see his face.

From where you were, he was nothing more than a nameless, identityless shadow.

"Hello?" "You asked timidly, not quite knowing what to say. "I… I'm sorry… I don't know how I got here." He let out a nervous laugh. "I don't know where HERE is supposed to be," you pointed out, looking at the expanse of the forest around you.

Then his deep, masculine voice filled the room.

The impact of his voice made the intensity of his presence evident, even though you couldn't see his face.

"You are in my kingdom, mortal" he murmured, not with contempt, but almost as if he were grateful for your presence. "That's where HERE is" he whispered. "And you are in my domain because I allow i."

"Thank you, sir" you whispered, astonished by what you were experiencing. "So, am I asleep?"

"That's right" he affirmed, reaching out his hand toward the light to gesture to you. "Come closer so I can see you better."

That's what you did.

You stood under a spotlight that seemed to have appeared there on purpose, so that he could see you.

For a few moments, he just watched you.

You couldn't see him, but you knew he was looking at you with the same attention a surgeon studies his patient before operating on them to rid them of their illness.

"You're probably wondering what you're doing here," he murmured, and you nodded slowly, without saying a word. "I've been… watching you," he acknowledged. "You lead a rather monotonous life, and I'd like to help you change that, if you'd like."

"Why me?" you blurted out. "I mean, I don't want to sound rude or anything, but aren't there other people whose lives are worse than mine? Why did you choose me?"

"I sense something special about you," he whispered, resting his elbows on the throne before rising from it, "something I've never seen in any other mortal."

"You speak of mortals as if you weren't one of them," you added.

"That's because I'm not," he whispered, as you noticed him descending the steps soundlessly, as if he were nothing more than a shadow.

"So what are you?" you whispered, staring at the figure about to step into the light.

Your breath caught in your throat when you finally saw him.

He had a peculiar face, one of those that no matter how many people you met throughout your life, that face, that face, would remain etched in your mind forever.

A face with sharp features and cunning, dark, cat-like eyes stared back at you.

His coal-black hair seemed to gleam in the light above your heads, which you still didn't know where it came from, and you didn't think you'd ever find out.

"My name is Morpheus, weaver of dreams and member of the endless he introduced himself formally.

"I'm y/n," you murmured, causing a hint of a smile to form on his lips at the simplicity of your answer

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, y/n" he whispered, looking at you carefully before raising his head, as if he'd heard something you couldn't. "There isn't much time left until the sun rises, so I won't keep you too long," he said. "I just wanted to… talk to you for a few moments, and the only time I can do that is here, in your dreams"

"I see," you murmured. "So what is it you want from me?"

"To enjoy the incomparable pleasure of your company," he whispered as if it were obvious. "Is that not enough?"

-Of course, it's just that this is… strange- you replied, somewhat flustered. “I’ve been dreaming about this for as long as I can remember, and nothing like this has ever happened to me.” Suddenly, your eyes widened and you looked at him intently. “Unless I’ve done something wrong, in which case, I’ll take whatever punishment is imposed on me without complaining once.”

“You’re not capable of causing any harm, Y/N,” he whispered, staring deeply into your eyes. “You haven’t done anything vile. Therefore, no one is going to punish you for anything. You can rest easy.”

“That’s a relief, thank you.”

You stared at each other for a few moments before he raised his right hand in front of his face.

“You need to wake up now” he whispered, making a gesture of snapping his fingers, but before he could, you stopped him.

“Wait,” you murmured quickly. “Will I ever see you again?”

“I’ve let you into my kingdom, Y/N,” he reminded you. “The entrance is open to you whenever you want,” he whispered. “I’ll tell Lucienne that if she sees you lurking around here, you’re not a stranger, but a person under my protection.” He whispered, taking a handful of sand out of the pocket of his long black robe. “You must wake up, now.” He blew, and the sand in his hand flew towards your face before you had time to say anything else.

The next thing you knew, you’d woken up in your bed to the sound of your alarm clock like every day, feeling like you’d never slept so well in your entire life.

[nightshade962]

Kind of got a Batman head Cannon type deal this is kind of going to be playing on of Bruce's mom Martha being Russian and immigrating to the United States but also his dad is only second generation Italian American this man grew up with three languages because let's face it the Wayans had Alfred before Bruce maybe not much before him but before him so he grew up speaking russian, italian, and English he was raising a multilingual household

I kind of want the bat kids learning this when Bruce is so frustrated with them that when he's lecturing them one time he's swapping between these three languages in Rapid succession( I didn't grow up speaking more than one language but from what I've heard who people who have and I've seen a few people who have you can sometimes tend to switch languages especially in high emotion correct me if I'm wrong but that's from what I've experienced not with myself but with people I know and have read about) but he is so frustrated with his kids this is how they find out he grew up speaking three different languages

Another scenario is the Justice League has a mission or at least like some information and let's say it's in Russian cuz that is not as common as Italian for what I've seen and I'm just going to go with Green Lantern for this and he just butchers these Russian words and Batman is just dead staring at him because he said all of those wrong in the wrong context everything was wrong and he's just looking at him Green Lantern is looking at him and like what let's see maybe one or two other League members can speak Russian at this point but not as fluently as Bruce obviously Bruce just stares at him and proceeds through sight it perfectly just sight reading it not having to have any pronunciations or software to understand it so GL is just looking at him like how do you know that how did you do that you almost sound like you have been speaking at your entire life first proceeds to just calmly state and this is one of the few facts they just found out because he decided that they can know this about him that his mother what's a Russian immigrant and he grew up in a multilingual household the JL think that it was just English and Russian don't know about that Italian until later down the road

This is a 2:30 a.m. rambling for me I just thought of I saw a post where Martha was a Russian immigrant and it made me think back to a previous post of Thomas speaking Italian and lecturing Bruce and Italian so he said to combine those two to create this I think it would be very good feel free to add if you wish I am tired so it is one of my normal ramblings with no punctuation so far you guys seem okay with that but to honest I wouldn't care if you did care I'm using this to get it out of my head and so I don't forget

Edit: I thought of another thing that could be I see a lot of head cannons I'll be honest I don't know if this is actually Canon or not I'm just going with head Cannon for now that Bruce is Jewish from his mom's side what if she spoke Hebrew to him like either for just culturally or religiously when she was alive and he just kept that studies up I don't know much about being Jewish( I would be happy to learn a bit if you want to share some information for people)

[jacksabbotts]

·˚ ༘ ┊͙ ˊˎ - REDEMPTION TOUR ( part two )

main masterlist || series masterlist || inbox || join the taglist || dividers by @cafekitsune

. ᵒ . ➛ PAIR . robert floyd x bartender!reader

. ᵒ . ➛ SUMMARY . after a severe fight with you father, you ( the reader decide this whole endeavor was a mistake and you are better off being far away from this whole coast.

. ᵒ . ➛ TRIGGER WARNINGS . lowercase intended!!! parental abandonment / estranged parent , emotional neglect , emotional hurt / familial tension , mentions of therapy and identity crisis , alcohol use ( implied ) , mild profanity , post topgun : maverick events

. ᵒ . ➛ WORD COUNT . ~ 3.0k

there was a knock at the door.

sharp, hesitant and too soft to be a neighbor, too early for penny, and far too polite to be bradley.

you stood frozen in the middle of your mostly-empty kitchen. you hadn’t even unpacked the box of mugs yet. a spoon dangled from your fingers, sticky with instant coffee. the knock came again.

you already knew who it was. somewhere in your chest, your ribs drew in around your lungs and refused to let go.

you wiped your hands on your jeans and opened the door.

pete mitchell stood there—aviators off, cap in hand, like he was reporting to someone for punishment. the man didn’t look like a navy legend. he looked like a dad who didn’t know what to say to his daughter. which… wasn’t wrong.

so he settled on a simple. 'hi,' he said quietly.

you leaned on the doorframe. 'you’re a day late.'

'i know.'

'you said you’d be there. at the airport.'

'i got to the lot,' he admitted. 'but i—i couldn't bring myself to come inside.'

'were you going to text again? or just keep hoping i’d be grateful you tried?' he swallowed. you glared. 'why?'

he hesitated. 'i was nervous.'

you let out a harsh, ugly laugh. 'jesus christ.'

he blinked. 'you were nervous?' your voice rose before you could stop it. 'you weren’t the one walking out of a terminal scanning for someone who said they wanted to finally know you, and seeing no one. you weren’t the one standing next to your mother while she made excuses for a man who’s had twenty-four years to get his shit together.'

maverick didn’t look away. to his credit, he didn’t flinch either. he just stood there—weathered, quiet, soaked in guilt. 'you weren’t the one being pitied by your own mother because once again, the great pete mitchell couldn’t be bothered to show up!'

'i wanted to,' he said.

'that doesn’t really matter.'

mav flinched.

you almost wished he didn’t. you almost wished he stood there like stone so you could feel justified. but he looked—wrecked. and that only made it worse.

'you have no idea what that felt like,' you said, quieter now. 'how small. how fucking stupid i felt for believing that this time might be different.'

'hey, i meant what i said about wanting to try.'

'then why didn’t you?'

'i don't know, i panicked,' he admitted. 'i thought—i’d show up and you’d look at me like i was a stranger. like you didn’t want me there and i didn’t want to ruin it before it even started.'

you stared at him. 'newsflash : you've already ruined it.'

his throat worked. 'i’m not the man i used to be.'

“you are exactly the man i remember.' you laughed, humorless. 'can’t commit to a plan. can’t face his own kid. can’t even send a damn text to say, sorry i bailed. again.'

he opened his mouth. closed it. like there was no good version of the truth he could give you.

that made it ten times worse.

you turned, grabbing your bag from where it still sat—untouched—on the floor near the couch. you hadn’t unpacked. you hadn’t even opened it. because deep down, you hadn’t trusted any of this.

'what are you doing?' he asked, voice cautious.

'leaving.'

maverick stepped forward instinctively. 'what?'

'this was a mistake.' your voice didn’t even shake. 'i never should’ve come back. i knew it. i fucking knew it. but i let you convince me that maybe—maybe—you’d changed.'

'i have—'

'then why does this still feel exactly like it always did?' you hoisted the duffel over your shoulder. 'like i’m ten years old and waiting for a phone call that never comes?'

he didn’t answer.

you didn’t wait for one.

'i’ll stay at the airport and i’ll book a flight in the morning. but i’m not staying here. i’m not doing this.'

maverick looked like he’d been punched. but he still didn’t try to stop you. he just stood there, motionless in the beige hallway, cap crushed in his hands.

you opened the door.

stopped.

'i didn’t need you to be perfect,' you said without turning around. 'i just needed you to try when it mattered.'

then you walked out.

snd this time, he was the one watching someone walk away.

the bench at the base bus stop was cold. not freezing, not uncomfortable—just cold enough to remind you that you were outside, alone, and completely, utterly done.

you had your duffel bag at your feet, hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands, and your phone locked in your pocket so you wouldn’t check it again. you already knew what it would say.

four missed calls – mom two missed calls – pete one new message – pete

please don’t leave like this. just talk to me.

you’d rather die.

you swiped at your face with your sleeve for the fourth time. your cheeks were raw, and you weren’t even crying anymore—just puffy, dry, and furious. the kind of fury that burned under the sadness, trying to suffocate it. trying to turn the hurt into something easier to carry.

a seagull screamed overhead. the wind whipped a strand of hair into your mouth. the bus was late.

of course it was. you heard footsteps before you saw him. boots. slow and familiar in that way that scraped something in your chest. you didn’t look up right away. you didn’t need to.

'hey, kid,' bradley said. you tensed. his voice hadn’t changed much. maybe deeper. maybe slower. but it still hit you like a memory you didn’t ask for.

you looked up.

he was taller than you remembered. broader, a bushy mustache over his upper lip, adorned in a flight suit. dog tags around his neck and aviators pushed back on his head like he’d just come off the tarmac.

'you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,' you muttered, standing up fast. bradley raised his hands. 'i’m not here to fight.'

'oh really?' you said. your voice came out shredded, ruined from earlier tears. 'because i’d love a fight right now.'

he blinked slowly, reaching to pull his sunglasses off his head. 'okay. maybe a small one.'

'then what—you spyin for pete now, he sent you to collect me? thought maybe you’d be able to sweet talk me into crawling back to that beige coffin of an apartment and apologizing for having emotions?'

his mouth twitched. 'he did call me,' bradley said. 'he said you left. he was worried.' your stomach twisted at that word.

you scoffed. 'he was worried?'

'he said you were upset.'

you turned toward him fully. 'upset? oh. right. that’s what we’re calling it. not ‘traumatized,’ not ‘devastated,’ not ‘crumbling with childhood abandonment issues in the middle of a government-funded shoebox.’ just... upset.'

he didn’t move. just let it hit him.

'don’t do this,' he said gently.

you blinked at him. 'don’t what, bradley? don’t be mad that the one person in my life who used to hate him as much as i did is now suddenly playing peacekeeper?'

he hesitated. and that silence said everything.

'i came here,' you snapped, 'because he asked me to. because he said he wanted to get to know me. and the first chance he had to show up? he fucking bailed.'

bradley took a slow breath. 'i know.'

'no, you don’t know.'

'i do,' he said, softer now. 'you think i don’t remember what it felt like when he left me, too?'

you flinched. 'that’s why i’m here,” he said. 'because i do know what it’s like. i know what it means to get your hopes up and watch him crush them. but this time… it is different.'

you laughed. bitter and ugly. “wow. i can't believe this. you’re on his side now. you of all people.'

'i’m chosing sides, kid.'

'bullshit,' you snapped. 'you are. you’re all suddenly on this redemption tour with pete fucking mitchell. my mom, you. him fucking especially. everyone’s singing the same damn song—he’s changed. he’s trying. he’s doing his best.'

bradley looked down. 'isn’t that what you wanted?'

'no!' you shouted. 'what i wanted was for someone to stand next to me and say, yeah, he fucked up. yeah, he was selfish. yeah, you’re allowed to be angry.'

your voice cracked, and it betrayed you.

bradley stepped forward. 'you are allowed to be angry. no one is saying you're not.'

you shook your head, stepping back. 'not when everyone keeps telling me to get over it.' the wind picked up. you tugged your sleeves tighter over your hands.

you stepped back, like his presence physically hurt. 'you were supposed to be on my side. i thought we were on the same page,' you whispered.

bradley winced. 'i am on your side, kid.'

'no,' you said, voice cracking. 'you’re not. none of you are. not penny. not him. not even you. all of you just keep telling me to give him a break. give him a chance. give the man who never came to a birthday, who never showed up to a single school function, who disappeared when i needed him—a second fucking chance.'

bradley shook his head. 'you’re twisting it.'

'no! you're the one twisting it! i let myself believe this time was going to be different,' you said. 'that maybe he wanted to show up this time. but the second it got hard, he did what he always does.'

'i’m going home, bradley,' you said quietly. 'this was all a huge mistake.'

he nodded slowly, because deep down he understood. but then he said the one thing you weren’t ready to hear. 'you’re not the only one who wants a second chance.'

you stared at him.

your jaw tightened.

'i don’t want his second chance,' you bit out. 'i want my first one back.'

he didn’t speak. just looked at you, quiet and wounded.

the bus doors opened with a sigh. you reached down for your bag. bradley stepped in front of you. 'at least, let me drive you.'

you stared at him, like he'd grown two heads. 'what?'

'to the airport. let me drive you.' you narrowed your eyes. 'why?'

'because i’m not letting you cry your way onto a base shuttle filled with dudes who smell like regret and foot powder. not all us navy men are upstanding citizens.'

despite everything, your lip twitched. just slightly. 'i’m fine.'

'you’re not fine,' he said. 'you’re about to disappear again, and i know you. you’ll make it as far as a shitty layover in denver and then have a breakdown in a fucking chili’s.'

'i would never cry in a chili’s.' you mumbled.

'okay,' he said. 'applebee’s.'

a pause.

you dragged your sleeve across your face and rolled your eyes. 'this doesn’t mean i’m not still mad at you.'

'wouldn’t dare assume otherwise.' bradley waves the shuttle driver and the doors close, despite your protest.

you stared at him for another beat. 'fine. but i pick the music.'

bradley was already walking toward the parking lot. 'wouldn’t dare assume otherwise,' he called back.

the old bronco smelled like too much cologne and fast food bags stuffed under the seat. you climbed in and slammed the door harder than necessary.

he didn’t say anything. just let the silence fill the cab as he pulled out of the lot.

you kept your arms crossed, your head turned toward the window, the duffel bag pressed to your knees like a seatbelt made of fabric and stubbornness.

it wasn’t until ten minutes in that you noticed the exits didn’t match what you remembered. you blinked, looked up, and frowned. 'uh, bradley?'

he hummed. noncommittal. didn't even spare you a glance.

'this isn’t the way to the airport.'

'nope.'

you snapped your head toward him. 'what the fuck?'

'i lied.'

you gaped. 'you what?!'

it was really your fault, you were to blame. for trusting bradley, the single handedly most mischievous person you have ever known in your life. 'i’m not kidnapping you. jesus. we're just—making a pit stop.'

you slapped the dashboard. 'you said no strings!'

'and technically,' he said, smirking slightly, 'i said ten minutes. that still stands.'

you wanted to scream. or jump out of the car. or both.

instead, you shoved the duffel to the floor and glared holes through the windshield.

'you are the worst godbrother. ever.'

'and you have terrible taste in escape plans.'

you crossed your arms again. 'where are we going?'

he turned on the blinker. then, up ahead, you saw the glow of a neon sign. the hard deck. of course.

you slumped down in your seat. 'you’re actually ambushing me with a bar. wow. this is low, even for you.' you stared at the glowing neon sign like it personally insulted you.

bradley pulled into the gravel lot with the slow, deliberate smugness of someone who’d planned this ambush three exits ago. 'are you serious right now?'

'deadly.'

'you said airport. you promised airport.'

he pulled into a parking spot in the pretty much empty bar gravel parking lot and put the bronco in park. 'i said ten minutes.'

'yeah, well, i’m counting them now.'

he turned to you, finally. 'i’m not letting you leave without saying goodbye to your mother.' your stomach dropped.

'no,' you said quickly. 'nope. this is about him. he’s the one who—'

'i know,' bradley said. 'and you’re right. he fucked up.'

you blinked. 'but penny didn’t.'

you stared out the windshield, throat tightening.

'she’s the one who stayed,' bradley continued. 'she’s the one who raised you, showed up to every parent-teacher night, picked you up when you got too drunk, taught you how to parallel park, probably taught you how to fight dirty too—'

'she did,' you muttered.

he cracked a smile. 'figures.'

you stayed quiet.

'she’s been worried sick,' he added gently. 'you walked out without saying anything. that’s not you.'

'she took his side.'

'yeah and she took your side for twenty-four years,' he said. 'can you blame her for hoping he’s finally changed?'

you didn’t respond. you didn’t want to feel guilty. you wanted to be mad. you deserved to be mad.

but that guilt crept in anyway. quiet. rotten. like mold under the surface. bradley leaned forward. 'ten minutes. talk to her. just… tell her you’re leaving. if you still want to go afterward—i’ll take you to the airport myself.'

you looked at him. 'swear?'

he raised two fingers. 'scout’s honor.'

'you were never a scout.'

'and yet i’m still more trustworthy than that bus.' you looked back toward the glowing hard deck sign. then slowly, reluctantly, opened the bronco door. 'ten minutes,' you warned again. 'not a second more, got it, brad.'

bradley smiled faintly. 'take your time.'

you rolled your eyes. but your heartbeat quickened anyway. the hard deck looked wrong in the daylight.

no crowd. no blaring music. no boots stomping across the floor, no glasses clinking behind the bar. just a half-swept floor, a closed register, and the soft, distant hum of prep work—the quiet kind. ice bins being filled. garnishes getting chopped. the place exhaled stillness.

bradley pulled the door open and gave you a look. you didn’t return it.

inside, the air was cooler. not enough to feel like comfort, but enough to feel like home.

you stepped in slow.

the bar lights were low, the jukebox dead. and behind the counter, sleeves rolled to her elbows, hair half-up and face pinched with stress, was your mother.

penny didn’t see you right away.

she was slicing limes—badly. one hand braced flat on the cutting board, the other trembling just enough to nick the edge. she hissed, dropped the knife, and cursed under her breath.

you froze.

bradley nudged your arm. 'go,' he whispered.

you didn’t move. not until penny looked up, and her whole body stilled.

'jesus christ,' she breathed. 'you’re alive.'

you swallowed hard. she came around the bar in two steps. no hesitation. no lecture. just arms around you, warm and familiar and shaking just a little. you stood there, stiff, letting it happen.

'i thought you left,' she said, voice cracking.

'i am, leaving that is.'

she pulled back, holding you by the arms like she had to physically keep you in place. 'you weren’t answering your phone.'

'i know.'

'i’ve been calling all morning. texting. i thought maybe—” She stopped, shook her head. “god, and then your father called.'

you stiffened. penny saw it. 'he told me what happened.'

of course he did.

'i don’t need another person telling me to forgive him,' you muttered.

'i’m not here to talk about him,' she said. 'i’m here because i just got my daughter back. and then she tried to disappear. again.'

your chest tightened. 'it wasn’t about you.'

'it doesn’t matter,' she said. 'it still hurt.'

you looked away. 'i didn’t mean to hurt you.'

'i know,' she whispered. 'but were you just gonna leave and not say goodbye.'

the silence settled again. thicker this time. you knew that if you did say goodbye that there was chance that you wouldn't be able to go through with it. that you wouldn't actually be able to leave.

so you changed the subject. you looked past her toward the bar. the cutting board. the bins that weren’t filled. the register that wasn’t turned on.

'you… open?' you asked, voice rough.

'not until six,' she said. 'but the bartender called out sick, and the delivery’s late, and we’re understaffed for a friday night.'

You stared at her. 'no, no way, i'm leaving.'

she lifted her brows. 'i didn’t say anything.'

'you were going to.'

'i wasn't.' beat. 'but if you’re offering…'

you rolled your eyes. 'i’m not staying.'

'okay.'

'i mean it.'

'i know.'

'i was just stopping in to say goodbye.'

penny nodded slowly. 'then i’m glad you did.'

you hated that you felt it. the guilt. the ache. the pull. you huffed. 'i’ll stay for tonight. only because you’re short-staffed.'

penny smiled. not smug. not victorious. just relieved. 'of course.'

'just tonight, mom.'

'of course,' she said again. 'i wouldn’t ask for anything more.'

you could tell she was lying.

but you let her get away with it.

just this once.

🔖  .    @princesssunderworld  @qtmoonies  @spooky-librarian-ghost  @Soupie_MeowMeow  @gardeniarose13  @flyinglama  @kmc1989  @letstryagaintomorrow @madzleigh01  @qardasngan  @sweetdayme4427

[kookiedeadbutterflies]

What Sucks About Surviving (Will’s Final Moments of TWOTL and Beyond) (original post: 7/3/25)

As I brainstorm about certain parts of the series when I write my fics, of course like many of you in the fandom, I do rewatches and look through other sources to see what I can latch onto to make a point. And I think we never ever stop seeing new things every single time. We evolve as watchers, readers, and of course writers.

One of the most interesting things I found about analyses of Will is that his combination of “good vs inequity”. Now unlike Clarice, he doesn’t have a perfect balance of right and wrong (I’d say that trait belongs most to Chiyoh), but he is constantly fluctuating between wanting to be good (not exactly DO good) and being unfair all the same and that they are not mutually exclusive. They will always have some part in each other and cannot be separated. He will always be someone who tries to achieve being good, but will be unfair in what he does to achieve that and vice versa. It makes him contradictory, but who in this series isn’t? So what does that look like for TWOTL and even beyond that?

If I can say things in a simple matter, Will’s mind throughout TWOTL is a complete cluster fuck. He tells Hannibal to “suck it” as he says his goodbyes, reminding him that he’s in prison because he made it so while still expecting to go home to a “perfect”family life where he expects his traumatized wife and child to continue to play house like they weren’t almost killed. Here’s him attempting to be good while also being completely unfair to everyone around him by holding them all emotionally hostage. By the way, this situation did not end up good in the novels either. Just saying.

Then the Dragon wasn’t dead and from there it is a rapid roller coaster that has confused everyone in the fandom for years. There are many different interpretations on Will’s intentions and what he wanted from all this and I can only offer mine. But what I can tell you is results speak for themselves in a way.

On one hand, Dolarhyde has come to him as a mutual patient of Hannibal who has been betrayed by him and has gone through transformation. Dolarhyde doesn’t immediately snap Will’s spine as promised, because he can see that he can see him. He’s intrigued by this fact, especially after conquering the Dragon. What does Will see in him now? He wants to know and wants him to know. And he wants his revenge. Will sees opportunity with Dolarhyde. A man who can now make a choice to kill or not and could be the person to end Hannibal when he himself cannot, because of his feelings for him.

From here, you see Will is acting very different. He’s a man with a plan, but the plan is not very rational. In fact, it’s completely irrational. Use Hannibal as bait to apprehend Dolarhyde. If we’re looking at Jack’s extension of the plan, it’s a plot to kill them both and rid the world of two more bad men. But this plan is weak and full of holes and filled with nothing but disadvantages and destruction waiting on the other side. He even tells Jack that he’s not sure about this, but decides to push through with it anyways. Even volunteers to be his little sacrificial lamb who’ll be in the FBI van transporting Hannibal escorting him. It’s almost like he’s speed running and writing his own dramatic suicide note in real time. Up until here, you could consider Will is doing a heroic act of martyrdom if there wasn’t another side to this. And there is.

Away from everyone else, Will tells Bedelia things he wouldn’t dare say to others. That he plans to go through with his idea and that he doesn’t expect Hannibal to be caught a second time. He cryptically warns Bedelia to “pack her bags” because Hannibal will escape and he’s going to get his pound of flesh from everyone. And Will doesn’t seem to care one bit. Because not only does he empathize with Hannibal greatly, his own righteousness agrees with everyone getting their just dessert. In fact, he’s been wanting it. His exit was pretty much a “Thank you Bedelia for all the insightful sessions. I look forward to seeing you at dinner bitch…”. Not only that but he encourages the idea of the media sensationalizing the suspicion that he helped Hannibal escape, thus securing his rightful spot as his partner in crime and his bride. This is a far cry from the man who seemed like he was going in for a noble suicide mission.

And the thing the fandom has asked repeatedly is “Well which one is it? Did he plan to die along with Hannibal and Dolarhyde in a blaze of glory or did he plan to run away with Hannibal?”

There is never a clear answer when it comes to Will, because he’s so unpredictable, but technically it can be seen as both as he wrestles with good and inequity as the plan moves along as it does. But one thing for certain is that the moment Will came back into Hannibal’s orbit, he endangered everyone around him and it never truly stopped. People died, they got hurt, lost their skin, lost their minds. We could argue that this plan was Will’s last attempt to choose to stop all the chaos just as much as we can argue that he secretly wanted to continue it with Hannibal in some other world. He probably doesn’t know very much himself. We just know that if he’s dead, he doesn’t have to think about it and neither does Hannibal. And at the very least they can die together as they enjoy the fleeting beauty of what they did together.

But they do have to think about it. Because they survived.

The immediate aftermath of surviving this fall is nothing short of disastrous. First of all, they’re both injured. One probably worse than the other and they need immediate medical attention or they’ll watch each other die. Second, now they really need to escape or the police will be coming to kill one or both of them and that is the most unappetizing and unappealing way either of them could go out. And third, the media is likely ALL over this and now neither of them can go back to any lifestyle they previously had. It is a complete dumpster fire of a situation.

In a way, Will won some and lost some. And again, it’s the consequence of his own actions. What’s he going to do? Blame Hannibal? God? Or will he decide to deal with all of this no matter how much time it takes?

Because problems don’t just go away. They just show up in other places in other forms.

[cbrownjc]

Agreed! Because yeah, in the TVL book, the revisits to IWTV are a really short part of that book. So Rolin and Co. actually don't have to "adapt" that part of TVL. Because they pretty much already did so when adapting IWTV during Seasons 1 and 2, and beginning to set up for Season 3 and the TVL adaptation back then. Things like having Lestat reveal his abduction and turning by Magnus back in Season 1 showed that. (Because yeah, Lestat never revealed a word about Magnus to Louis and Claudia in the IWTV book. Or a word to them about Nicki, either. To say I was shocked and surprised that he did so when I first watched episode 1x06 would be an understatement.)

Because yes, Lestat's backstory itself is what will finally give the context to a lot of his behavior in IWTV. And the show pretty much has made it so that everything that won't be extensively revisited will still make total sense as to why Lestat acted the way he did during a lot of Seasons 1 and 2. And can be shown in just short flashes.

For example, all the times when Claudia would ask Lestat about other vampires, and then Lestat wouldn't answer. You can just show one scene with Claudia asking in a quick flash, and that's it. Because we'll now know, likely from possibly around episode 3x06 or so, that Lestat was under a gag order from Marius to not talk about such things, and what Marius threatened to do if he did.

IMO, I think the IWTV revisits might start almost halfway into episode 3x07. And then continue on until about halfway through 3x08.

And there are really only four major scenes from Seasons 1 and 2 that need to be revisited in more and fuller detail IMO: the 1x05 fight, the Mardi Gras murder night, the Paris trial, and the Magnus' Tower scene with Lestat, Louis, and Armand.

If Lestat confirms what Louis said in Season 2 about Claudia's turning, then there won't be a need to revisit that scene.

And there is really only one thing that will need fleshing out/revealing amongst all of that, and that is the time period between 1940 and 1949, revealing where Lestat was -- and what he was doing -- after he was left in the trunk at the dump until he showed up at the trial in Paris.

IMO, revealing that can be used to bridge between eps 3x07 and 3x08, especially if Lestat really was locked in Magnus' tower by Armand from the end of 1944 until 1949.

Then episode 3x08 would show the trial. And, IMO, the only things that will be revisited and revealed there are: that Armand was mind-spelling Lestat to stay "on script" during it; that Claudia being the one to actually slit Lestat's throat was openly discussed; that Claudia's diaries revealed that she wrote her real feelings down about both Lestat and Louis, which will match up to her feelings and plans that we discover in the book Merrick; and that a desperate Lestat, IMO, made a deal with Armand to "give" Louis to Armand in exchange for saving Louis' life after Claudia was sentenced to death.

Oh, and IMO, we are not going to see, and it won't be revealed just yet, about the experiment that Armand did with Claudia before she died. Because Season 3 is from Lestat's POV, and Lestat had no idea what Armand did, just like Louis didn't know.

So yeah. Until Armand himself decides to reveal/confess to what he did to Claudia, we're not going to see it in Season 3 IMO, just like we didn't see it in Season 2. (And in the VC books, it took until Book Six for Armand to confess to it, which is post-Memnoch the Devil and Armand's suicide attempt. Meaning he might not reveal it in Season 4 either, which is when we're supposed to start getting his backstory.)

So after the trial, that just leaves a revisit to the tower scene, and that's it aside from filling in the gaps wrt what Lestat was doing post-tower scene and the remaining 77 years up until the present day.

And then you can just end Season 3 with a different cliffhanger than the TVL book ends on, and that starts setting up for Season 4 and a Queen of the Damned adaptation. Such as Akasha waking up for the first time due to hearing Lestat's music, or something like that.

Something like that is still a cliffhanger that has to do with Akasha, but doesn't require the show to have to revisit the big concert attack again in Season 4 from different POVs (such as Jesse's) if they tried to end Season 3 exactly like the TVL book ends.

So yeah, right now at least, I feel that Lestat is going to get to continue his rock star career a bit longer than just in Season 3, and that it will go on for a time into Season 4. And that season will be when the attack on the concert happens (which, at the moment, I'm predicting will be in Miami, FL), and when Akasha's kidnapping of him will happen.

S3 isn't Nicki's season, people need to set their expectations accordingly to avoid disappointment. And S2 was supposed to be Claudia's (and Louis) but they gave Armand more importance than her so people need to imagine how prominent Nicki will be when the season isn't his for starters. This is a Lestat season in a Loustat show, basically.

Mhhhh. As said, this show is built on Loustat and DM. And it places the focus accordingly, sometimes in ways I have also criticized (re Claudia).

But… that is the way it’s set up, and the way they are promoting it, too. Remember, they did NOT ship-bait Loumand for s2!! They will not do that for Nickistat in s3 either.

Nicki IS important. But he is “only“ part of the narrative. And he will be dead, sometime 2/3s through the season, latest. :/

[bebrave-live]

Love the flavor of soulmates that is a main m/f partnership dynamic that's mostly platonic but also romantic but also dysfunctional and yet completely essential - like these characters would not work without each other, but they barely work with each other, and most importantly they know each other carnally better than anyone else, but it's also not about sex at all it's about the partnership and navigating the highs and lows of intimacy and letting someone in, but also maybe they do fuck, but also maybe don't, but also...

[s0fter-sin]

rewatching s1 and in ep2 w*ndigo, dean makes a joke about not bringing provisions into the woods just to pull out a bag of peanut butter m&m’s and stick with me here, it’s why the later seasons’ “goofy dean” loses me

this moment is clearly a joke but if you think about it too much, it also makes some sense; a family size bag of peanut m&m’s is calorie dense and even the high sugar is good to keep you moving which they need on an overnight hunt. it also shows how due to their upbringing, they’ve had to eat lower quality food, things they always had access to that was cheap and also in bulk

what does dean eating ghost pepper jerky then tipping water on himself exist for other than to be a cringy joke? what does smelling old chinese food, testing to see if it's still good then shaking his head with cabbage hanging out his mouth when it isn't serve? it's just to make him look stupid and contrast sam's healthy/clean diet (and superiority but that’s another conversation) which has always existed but it used to be nuanced and natural

we see dean as a child give up the food he wanted to eat so sam could eat it. (“i’m sick of spaghetti-os,” “you’re the one who wanted them,” … “i want lucky charms!” “… there’s only enough for one bowl and i haven’t had any yet!” proceeds to give them to sam, 1x18) we know he hustled and stole food to ensure sam ate. (“so, what’d he take?” “get this- peanut butter and bread.” 9x07)

we also see throughout the early seasons dean teasing sam about his salad or healthy choice while he eats some form of burger or other fast food (or notably, cheerfully eating prison food that sam won’t touch, 2x19). it's typical sibling teasing but it also shows that it isn't new for sam to eat like that and for dean to know he eats like that

sam being picky isn't just a character trait they chose for him, it's a result of how dean raised him; he raised him to like and want healthy food and be food secure enough to reject food he didn't want

but dean eats anything he is given and seeks out unhealthy - cheap, plentiful, filling - food

he is the opposite of picky to the point of it being a consistent bit; they show him multiple times eating when it's socially frowned upon to do so eg. questioning a grieving victim when they're trying to be discreet (1x14, 2x15, 2x18)

a similar moment to the chinese food is in 4x19; dean wakes up in the car while sam brushes his teeth outside and is hungry. sam says there's a sandwich in the backseat, dean smells it and recoils bc it's an old tuna sandwich. the moment is funny on its own but it also exists as a comparison of their lives to adam's; he has a loving mother, goes to school and importantly, a steady stable childhood

it’s a joke with a purpose

it also supports dean's food insecurity; he wakes up and is immediately hungry, enough to complain about it and seek out food before anything else

dean is always hungry bc he never has access to nutritionally rich foods bc he got used to using the money he earned to buy sam's more expensive food. he got used to his cheaper, denser foods and grew up with (and continues to live with) intermittent access to said foods. think of how long it takes to drive from one state to another; how many hours it can take to see another town that offers food, if you arrive at a reasonable enough time for anything to be open. also think how they can’t keep any food beyond what fits in an esky; nothing that needs defrosting, nothing can be heated up. it’s bags and jars and take out for as long as they can trust it

then they get the bunker which has its own kitchen

dean even describes himself as "nesting" when he decorates his room, something he hasn't had since he was four years old, and he uses said kitchen to cook a burger from scratch that he is proud of. he is food secure for the first time in his life and it shows in how often he cooks for both himself and sam

so these moments where they have him acting goofy regarding food are no longer character driven and only exist as a joke which is why they come across as cringy and out of character compared to similar earlier moments

a lot of my issues with dean's characterisation started when they introduced the bunker. the argument can and is made that the reason these jokes happen is bc he feels safe in the bunker, that bc he now has a home he can relax and unmask but that still doesn't feel sufficient. they crank up these sillier moments for both of them, giving them a sort of playing house comedy vibe of two roommates with completely different personalities but it doesn't feel like an authentic progression. it feels forced; an attempt at humour for humour's sake

food stopped being an informed part of their characters and their trauma and instead became flanderised; sam is the judgy vegetarian health nut and dean is his borderline slovenly carnivore counterpart

[galactaknightyaoi]

When I first got into Kirby, I didn't expect to like, actually get into it. I thought it'd be like any other hyperfixation I'd had up to that point, that it would go away within a few months and I'd never think about it again.

Given I was so deeply in denial, I didn't care about being fully accurate and had some stuff that was really goofy and/or underdeveloped and unexplained. Stuff I'd made up to just work for the limited time I would be there.

Still, I came up with a few headcanons that I got attached to, and when I started realizing this was here to stay, I still chose to be stubborn and had to work backwards to keep these stupid headcanons, but adapt them into something a bit more fitting and polished.

It led to some cool stuff, like for example, my orbs aren't very magical, this was something I had settled on early on. But after I got invested, I had to think about what that actually meant and the implications of it like, how can they do this without magic? And what about that? What about this canon thing, how do I explain it?

I found decent enough explanations for all of these. But as a result of my unserious beginnings and continued stubborness, now I get really embarrassed at the time to actually talk about my headcanons and the stuff I've come up with.

Because what do you mean your Galacta Knight is half-dragon?

[gideonisms]

THE number one most irritating thing about life is deciding when you're meant to speak or make eye contact and when you're not, and for how long and how many phrases you're meant to say at a time

[pagesofkenna]

Ratfish pt 2 spoilers

we've truly come full circle

[morrigan-sims]

Btw, if you ever see me post about a book/movie/game/ANYTHING, that is an open invitation to talk to me about it. Tell me your opinions, talk to me about your builds and characters for video games, scream at me about good or bad scenes in books, shows, or movies. (Or if there’s a book/movie/game/whatever that you think I’d like, TELL ME. Please give me recs.) There is nothing in the world I love more than talking about media of any kind (except for talking about my OCs but I know that’s a harder ask.)

Also, PLEASE tell me about your dnd characters. Make them in the sims and tag me in the post. Infodump and tag me. Infodump in my DMs. Ask for my Discord and message me there. I mean it. I am on my knees BEGGING for people to talk to me about not just things I love, but things YOU love.

Send me an ask (anon is ALWAYS on), a DM, ask for my Discord, anything. I swear on everything I hold dear that asks or DMs are never w bother. (/gen)

I’m always down to discuss plot, characters, mechanics, worldbuilding, any of it. TTRPGs/CRPGs and sci-fi/fantasy books + movies are the center of my wheelhouse, but honestly I just love having in-depth discussions about things. (Oh and I could (and have, much to my friends and family’s dismay) talk for HOURS about Black Sails.)

[wonder-worker]

"As for the government of the kingdom, [Edward V] had complete confidence in the peers of realm and the queen."

— Dominic Mancini, The Usurpation of Richard the Third / J.L. Laynesmith, The Last Medieval Queens: English Queenship 1445-1503 / Alexander R. Brondarbit, Power Brokers and the Yorkist State, 1461-1485

"According to the Crowland continuator, [Elizabeth Woodville] seems to have taken the king's place in listening to his council immediately after Edward IV's death. It does appear that she expected to have some role in her son's kingship, and the Crowland continuator’s report of the letters sent to her by [Richard of Gloucester] indicates that she had good reason to expect to be able to work with him and the other councillors: 'the duke of Gloucester wrote the most pleasant letters to console the queen; he promised to come and offer submission, fealty and all that was due from him to his lord and king, Edward V, the first-born son of his brother the dead king and the queen'."

"[However], in what was Gloucester's first coup, Edward V was separated from his household and Woodville advisors. When the young king questioned the move, Buckingham was reported to have told the boy 'It is not in the business of women but men to govern kingdoms'. The blunt remark referred to the authority of Elizabeth Woodville as queen and the power she must have anticipated within the new political climate left by Edward IV's sudden death. [...] While the veracity of this scene is questionable*, the words attributed to the duke no doubt seemed plausible to Dominic Mancini who believed they exemplified the popular sentiment held by men [...]."

*One of Mancini's key sources seems to have been Edward V's own doctor, John Argentine, who attended to him in the Tower. It's very likely that he was the one who recounted this scene to Mancini, which suggests that it should probably be considered more credible than not.

[mcchicken-scratches]

Found a couple old fics I forgot existed. I dunno if I should bother with trying to finished them up or just leave them to rot (especially since my writing skills have improved since I wrote them, so I'd had to do a bunch of rewriting to make them satisfactory, or just post that part of them as is.)