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sansaorgana · 4 months ago

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— DAUGHTER OF THE MOON (III)

PART ONE || PART TWO

PAIRING — Sauron x fem!Elf!Reader (Celebrimbor's Daughter)

SUMMARY — Lord Celebrimbor's daughter finally learns the truth about her betrothed. She might be the only one who can save her father and Eregion if she agrees to give Sauron what he wants.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Reader's appearance is not described and her mother comes from a group of Elves that I came up with myself for the sake of this fic and its plot – the Moon Elves. This is the last part of this fic! 😊 As I said, it was supposed to be a one shot but it turned out quite long, so I decided to post it in three chapters. 💗 The ending is kinda open... 👀

WARNINGS — Reader's mother is dead ("madness" + suicide), blood magic, violence, domestic abuse (Sauron is not nice to his fiancée), manipulation, gaslighting

WORD COUNT — 6,450

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DAUGHTER OF THE MOON (III)

Corruption. It was the thing that Lady (Y/N) feared the most. Therefore, when she heard about the possibility of The Seven being condemned because of her father’s lie to the High King, she was absolutely terrified. Especially after learning “the truth” from her beloved Annatar about her father’s condition.

He watched with a smirk, overhearing her conversations with Celebrimbor. Her pleas and sobs as she begged him to finish the Rings. But – just as she had promised – not even once she did reveal that she knew about his worrying state. And even though Annatar had mentioned that it was crafting the Rings that had caused Celebrimbor’s mind to go astray, his daughter feared the darkness and corruption so badly that it seemed to escape her mind. The only thing that mattered to her was to convince her father to help Annatar in making the Rings.

She was even using the same tactics as her beloved – something he noticed with a huge amount of satisfaction as he listened to her praising her father’s craft and saying that he would soon become known as the greatest of the Elves in history. How she sweetly and innocently lured him into the trap Annatar had prepared.

And so she succeeded, standing proudly by her betrothed’s side with her arm around his, as they were surrounded by the Elven smiths and watched Celebrimbor give a speech.

“There is agency uncanny in the heart of stone and ore,” he started. “Even when a work is yet within the artist's bosom, it begins to…” He hesitated and made a disappointed face. “...disobey him. We have failed. Every one of us,” he added more harshly now and Annatar could feel (Y/N)’s hands squeezing his arm tighter as she was not suspecting her father to grow so bitter and cold.

“The designs were carried out to the most exquisite detail, my Lord,” Mirdania dared to interrupt him.

“Were they?” Celebrimbor asked her in a challenging tone. “Every last hammer stroke done to perfection?” He began to take steps forward, approaching her and the other smiths. “Or did hubris and sloth come together to dull your attention?!” He raised his voice and a short silence occurred.

The tension was heavy in the forge and Annatar felt (Y/N)’s fingernails digging into his flesh as she kept squeezing his arm. Her father’s anger was not aimed at her but it still pained her to see him like this – like he had never been before.

“We must atone for our mistakes in the only way we can by completing the Rings together,” Celebrimbor said again, a bit softer this time, as he looked upon Annatar’s face. “The Nine must do far more than bring aid to men, they must bring balance to the entire project. They must draw strength from The Three and somehow…,” he hesitated, uncomfortably, “redeem The Seven,” he looked around, avoiding everyone’s gaze. “They must redeem us all. We shall work night and day,” his tone changed once again and grew harsher. “New designs. New alloys. A new process. I will be with you at every turn and any of you who offers so much as a hair’s breadth less than his utmost effort is a… A smith of Eregion no longer,” he threatened, even though he sounded ashamed of his own vicious words despite the gentle smile. “Have I made myself plain?”

“Yes, my lord,” the smiths nodded their heads quietly.

“It starts now,” Celebrimbor nodded nervously and walked away as fast as possible to go up to his study, walking past Annatar and (Y/N) but avoiding their gaze.

(Y/N) left her betrothed’s side and followed her father to his study. Annatar was torn whether he should join them or to coax the smiths. He eventually decided to do the other thing since he already trusted (Y/N) enough to leave her alone with Celebrimbor for a moment, meanwhile the smiths of Eregion kept chatting quietly about their Lord’s behaviour.

“Father?” (Y/N) approached Celebrimbor who was sitting on the chair and trembling, hiding his face in his hands. Her heart was full of pain for him and she swallowed thickly when she placed her hands on his shoulders as he flinched a little. “Father, perhaps I have been pushing you too hard to agree to make The Nine. I, too, want the redemption of The Seven for I want this craft to be the absolute mastery of your abilities and achievements as much as I want for the whole Middle-earth to admire you…” She confessed gently as she crouched down next to him and removed his hands softly from his face. “But father, please, the way you behave… is worrying to say the least,” she whispered.

“The way I behave, my sweet child?” He blinked a few times at her and she tilted her head, confused.

“What are you talking about?” She breathed out and a short silence occurred, in which Annatar’s voice calming down the smiths reached them from afar.

“Are you sure about wanting to marry this man?” Celebrimbor lowered his voice, squeezing his daughter’s wrist when she wanted to move away, visibly outraged by his question.

“How can you ask me that?! The love between Lord Annatar and I is of the purest and most noble kinds…” Her eyes filled with tears. “I have never thought to ever meet a man like him but he is everything I have ever dreamt of and I am the luckiest of all maidens that he wishes to leave his service to the Valar for me.”

Celebrimbor was defeated. He let his daughter's hand go and he watched her tears with the pain in his heart. He hated to make her cry and to worry her but he was concerned about her as well.

However, she was already far too bewitched by Annatar’s charm.

Lady (Y/N) was crafting a beautiful headpiece as she focused on shaping the sapphires. The day was warm and quite calm and she enjoyed her silence and her solitude as yet another masterpiece was coming to life because of the work of her hands.

A light knock upon the doors made her look up with a furrowed brow.

“Come in,” she ordered and watched the smith Mirdania walking inside.

Mirdania’s eyes were exhausted, her dress and face covered in sweat and dirt from the long days of excessive work in the forge. She bowed down in front of Lady (Y/N) and opened her mouth, hesitating before speaking.

“What is it?” (Y/N) asked her as she stopped paying attention and laid her eyes back on the headpiece in front of her.

“My Lady, I am terribly sorry for bothering you but this is about your father, Lord Celebrimbor…” Mirdania started.

“Yes?” (Y/N) still did not lay her eyes on the woman as her eyes squinted when she picked up a thin chisel.

“The way he is behaving… He has never been like this. I do not mean his strive for perfection but the measures he is taking… We do not feel safe around him anymore, my Lady,” Mirdania blushed and looked away because (Y/N) glanced at her at that very moment.

“I… I do not know what to say,” (Y/N) confessed, putting the chisel down. “I do not know how to comfort you… But you ought to endure for he must finish The Nine,” she stood up to approach Mirdania and put her hands around the smith’s arms. “He must.”

Mirdania tried to protest somehow as her mouth opened and her head shook but that was when the doors opened once more – this time without any knocking – and Lord Annatar stood in them.

He walked differently these days; more confidently. The way he stood there was taking up the whole door frame and the way he glanced at the women had a hint of contempt and suspicion in his eyes. His robes were no longer grey and humble but the most exquisite – black and gold. And some of his hair strands were tied in a whimsical bow to avoid getting into his eyes and interrupting his work.

Some were saying that now, when Lord Celebrimbor was so busy with his craft and Annatar was engaged to his daughter, he was carrying himself as the Lord Regent of Eregion in a way. His position changed, of course, as he was now known as Lady (Y/N)’s betrothed and Lord Celebrimbor’s most trusted friend.

“My love, what is it?” Lady (Y/N) asked as she abandoned Mirdania’s side immediately to approach him.

She did not mind his change – in fact, he made her believe that it was her who had encouraged it, convincing him that the new robes would make him seem more respectful amongst the people of Eregion and that he had proved his humility enough.

Annatar gave Mirdania a scolding look before laying his soft eyes upon Lady (Y/N).

“Your father’s people demand an audience but he refuses to see them, too occupied with his craft,” he announced.

“That is so unlike him,” (Y/N) shook her head with concern.

“He wants you and I to carry on with his responsibilities to the city,” Annatar informed her.

“Oh, well, then…” She hesitated. “Well, then I must… I shall do everything to help my father,” she nodded her head, eagerly. “Mirdania,” she turned around to look at the woman and the smith bowed her head down before hurrying out of Lady (Y/N)’s chambers.

(Y/N) and Annatar walked downstairs and approached the people gathered by the doors, surprised to see them instead of their Lord. Annatar clasped his hands behind his back and looked down at his betrothed as she nodded at him, letting him speak because she knew that he was far better with words than she was.

“The greatest of Elven smiths is consumed by his work,” Annatar announced to the people of Eregion. “He asks that Lady (Y/N) and I handle all matters of administration in his stead,” he bowed slightly at her before looking back at them. “Now, what seems to be at issue?”

One of the guards looked at Commander Malendrol with hesitation.

“Show them,” he said.

“Show us what?” Annatar asked and the guards pointed in the direction they wanted him and Lady (Y/N) to go in.

And so they followed the guards and (Y/N) was full of anxiety as she kept glancing up at her betrothed, wondering how he could remain so calm when everything seemed to go so wrong these days.

“This gatehouse is typically athrum with artisans and merchants travelling into the city,” one of the guards explained. “But it all strangely halted yester-eve,” he added.

“We sent a search party across the river to see if there was an obstruction upon the road,” Commander Malendrol continued. “But only one soldier returned.”

“Where is he?” Annatar asked, feeling (Y/N) trembling fingers intertwining with his. As usual, in times of trouble, she was seeking for him and his comfort, his assurance that it would all be alright and that he would keep her safe.

They stopped in front of a few other guards and when the guards walked away, they revealed a body of a soldier with his shirt torn to reveal his chest on which mysterious letters of the language unknown to Lady (Y/N) were carved. She winced and turned around to look away and Annatar squeezed her hand gently.

“Washed up this morning,” Commander Malendrol said. “He appeared to be carrying a message.”

Annatar took a step forward to take a better look at the body and read the signs as his face got serious. Adar’s army coming to Eregion was a part of his plan but he had been certain his Rings would be forged by then.

He was running out of time.

“Bury him,” he ordered and laid his eyes on Commander Malendrol. “Show this to no one,” he added. He did not want anyone in the city to be alarmed and expecting the worst.

When the guards walked away, Annatar put his arm around (Y/N) to walk her out of there and spare her delicate eyes from such sights. She sniffled her tears back and looked up at his face.

“That was awful…” She shook her head, affected. Annatar furrowed his brows, faking worry and compassion as he brought her hand up to his lips and placed a small kiss upon her knuckles. “Should I tell my father about it? I know he wanted us to carry on with his duties but this seems quite serious and–”

“No,” Annatar interrupted her as her lower lip trembled. “He has asked us to see it and that no one is permitted to disturb him,” he informed her in all seriousness, watching her eyes fill with more and more fresh tears. “Not even the smiths… Not even you.”

“N-not even m-me?” (Y/N)’s voice broke as silent tears streamed down her cheeks. Annatar smiled sadly at them as he wiped one with his thumb.

“He’s not himself, my gentle darling. For now, all we can do is leave him in solitude,” he whispered, trying to be the most delicate. Give him time. And pray…” He hesitated before finishing his sentence, unsure what effect it would have on her. “Pray that he finishes this work before it finishes him,” he eventually confessed, faking his own pain and sadness.

“I… I cannot lose my father. Oh, Annatar, please… I have suffered enough already, have I not?” She sobbed and he only stood there, watching her tears, not knowing what to say since he had so much more of the suffering prepared for her. “I lost my mother already… I cannot lose him. If there was a way of sacrificing my own self, my own sanity, just to save him… I would not hesitate,” she clenched her jaw out of determination as she confessed. “I know that he presents himself now as a man out of his mind but my father… My real father… He is the most gentle, the most kind, the most generous man and… And I would do everything to save him,” she finished, straightening her back as a sudden outburst of courage washed all over her.

Annatar looked down at their hands intertwined and caressed the silver ring on her finger with his thumb.

“The way you love is of the purest kind,” he whispered.

“I love you just the same,” she assured him and he cracked a sad smile before leaning in to kiss her forehead and walk away, leaving her crying quietly in the middle of the courtyard.

It was dark already when the siege began. Lady (Y/N) was as scared as everyone else but the very first person that came to her mind was Lord Annatar, naturally. The one who had always been able to make her feel the safest and the one who had always had a solution to all of her problems. He had always known how to comfort her with his sweet words.

So, even in times like this, she was running through the crowd of her father’s people, ignoring their screams and cries. And she did not run to the forge but to the tower where she had seen Annatar going before as she had been calling for him across the courtyard but he could not hear.

She was running up the stairs and then she froze at the sight of him, standing alone on the balcony and raising his hands up as he kept staring in the direction of the Orc army. What was he doing, she wondered? Was he performing some sort of magic spell, a ritual that was supposed to keep them all safe?

“My love?” She asked in a trembling tone. “My love, I am so scared,” she revealed and he turned around.

But the man she saw now – the sight of him made her gasp and take a step back as she nearly fell down the stairs. The man in front of her perhaps truly looked like her beloved Lord Annatar but his eyes were no longer kind or compassionate. There was nothing but pure evil and darkness burning in them as he approached her with a smirk.

“You, my love, are coming with me,” Annatar grabbed her by her arm, mocking the sweet phrase they had been calling each other with.

And as he dragged her behind him, she kept sobbing and trying to get out of his grasp but he was far too strong and no one could hear her cries for help amongst the chaos.

“What are you doing?!” She shouted. “Please, let me go! My love, please, you are scaring me!”

But all of her words and pleas seemed to have no effect upon her betrothed. He remained cold and unbothered as he dragged her towards her tower and all the way upstairs, pulling her body behind as if it was a sack of potatoes; not caring much about the many steps ahead of them and hurting her many times on the way.

He pushed the doors to her workshop open and threw her inside carelessly as he watched with contempt her body hitting the ground. Her gentle eyes looked up with fear at him as more and more sobs escaped her throat.

“Your father’s mind is of no use to me anymore. He has lost his senses,” Annatar announced, viciously. “You will craft me The Nine,” he added with a smirk, taking a step closer to her as she flinched and moved back.

“I do not understand… I…” She kept shaking her head and sniffling her tears back.

“Do you hear that?” Annatar shushed her as he faked concern. Screams and cries reached their eyes. “The people of Eregion are dying, my gentle Lady. And only you can save them – and your father – by giving me The Nine,” his fake concern turned into a smirk.

“Even if I wanted to, I cannot. My craft cannot match his in any way…” (Y/N)’s lips trembled.

“You are underestimating yourself as usual,” Annatar did not want to hear any of it as he stood right above her. “Your craft is more than enough. Have you not seen your works of art? I have. And all the noble ladies of Middle-earth and Númenor who are being complimented about their beauty… They all owe it to you,” he whispered, nearly seductively but the sudden eroticism of his voice was what scared her, too, because her pure and noble betrothed would never act this way.

Annatar crouched down to be on her level and she yelped, trying to move back even further but her back hit her desk, so she was trapped now between her own place of work and his body.

“You have been watching your father work for centuries. I am certain you are able to forge The Nine Rings for men,” he breathed out and leaned in even closer as their noises brushed but she turned her face away, trying to get away from him.

“Please, make it stop…” She pleaded. “I want my beloved back… I want Lord Annatar.”

“Oh, but… my sweet darling, Lord Annatar is me and I am him,” he smirked and the floor trembled this very moment after the city had been hit. (Y/N) cried out some more and he cupped her face as he shushed her gently with the most concerned expression he could manage. “My sweet, you can make it all stop. All of it, I promise.”

“Even if I truly could…” (Y/N) swallowed her tears. “I do not have any more mithril,” her whisper broke as she realised her own defeat.

“That is true, you do not,” Annatar nodded with a kind smile like his old one used to be but his eyes were still cold and cruel. “But you have something far more… precious,” he murmured as one of his hands travelled down to her neck and his fingernail brushed the pulsing point there, feeling her blood flowing underneath her smooth and gentle skin.

Their gazes met this very moment. Her eyes filled with terror at the realisation of what he was asking of her.

“What are you?” She breathed out, nearly inaudible as her whole body tensed. “No emissary of the Valar would ever ask me to do this,” she pointed out in a trembling voice and Annatar’s lips twitched as he kept staring at her the most intensely. “Who are you… truly?”

He moved away from her, very slowly. And as he was standing up to be above her once more, he appeared to get even taller and his presence was becoming more and more overlooming. (Y/N) curled herself up under his shadow as if she was a little mouse realising that she had just found herself in the trap set up by a big cat.

“I can become your doom or I can become your redemption. The choice is yours, but the longer you hesitate, the more people suffer. And Lord Celebrimbor… I am not quite certain if he is to survive the siege,” Annatar told her without even trying to hide his contempt.

“I have trusted you… I have betrayed my own father for you…” (Y/N) whimpered.

“Oh, but betrayal is a part of your bloodline, is it not?” Annatar smirked. “Even now, I can feel that you still… love me,” he added, mocking her feelings.

More tears escaped her eyes. Of course she still loved him. Was it even possible to stop loving someone so quickly?

“I love the lies you have told me. The illusion Lord Annatar has been,” she stuttered and gathered her strength to finally stand up as well although she had done it clumsily, grasping the edge of her desk to keep the balance. “But you… Whoever you are… I do not love you. And you will not lure me into your schemes,” she added, proudly. More screams from Eregion reached their ears but she remained cold as a statue and confused Annatar looked behind him after realising that her eyes were not set on him.

They were set on the portrait of her mother, Lady Dúlinnel.

“You might threaten me as much as you wish, dark spirit. And you might threaten me with my father’s death or mine,” she took a deep breath in, “but we do not fear it for we shall see Valinor after we die – a place where you are no longer welcome. And as much as I love my father, I know that he would rather die than allow me to forge such an abomination,” (Y/N) looked back at him again and Annatar’s fists clenched at her words as the muscles of his face twitched.

She could not be serious.

“You think you cannot be lured and tempted?” He smirked. “What about your great aunt, Lady Yestariel?”

“She… She is nothing but a fairytale,” (Y/N) shook her head. “She is a fairytale being told to young maidens as a warning… As a warning, so they know better and do not get seduced by the darkness. And I have listened to this fairytale many, many times. I shall not follow you and your commands anywhere for you are not the man I love…” (Y/N) sobbed as she said that because it was bringing her lots of pain to know that the love she had been receiving was nothing but a lie.

And even though Annatar smiled with pity at her, he was confused by his own reaction. Because some of his pity was genuine and the sight of her tears was unsettling to him. He did not want her to cry or resist him. He wanted her to follow him out of her own will.

“Let me show you,” he extended his hands but (Y/N) shook her head and tried to move away. “I just want to show you… the truth.”

“Nothing about you is the truth,” she remarked through her tears.

“Just let me,” Annatar did not listen to her at all and he grabbed her wrists as she groaned, trying to get away from his grasp. However, his fists were holding onto her so strongly that she gave up and that was when he showed her.

He showed her visions of his memories. He showed her Lady Yestariel, her great aunt, standing by Morgoth’s side. He showed her himself, watching Yestariel and twelve other Elves being tortured and changed into the first Uruks. He showed her Lady Yestariel’s eyes full of love and devotion whenever she laid them upon Morgoth. And he showed her Lady Yestariel’s fall as he was trying to reach her. He showed her all the memories he had from the First Age with her great aunt and a sister of her grandfather – Lord Commander Nillendur, who had died fighting the very evil his sister had chosen to follow.

(Y/N) gasped and took a step back as if Annatar’s touch was causing her physical pain. He let go of her and watched her confusion with satisfaction. Now she knew. She knew everything.

“You are He,” she whimpered, covering her lips with her fingers. “You are Sauron.”

“I have many names,” Annatar smiled at her maliciously, watching her whole world crumble down.

Everything she had believed and loved… Everything she had been dreaming of by her betrothed’s side… It had been nothing but the cruellest form of mockery.

“Why are you doing this to me?” She asked.

“I learnt from the best. I learnt from a God…” Annatar answered mysteriously. “When he sees the potential… He pushes them to the limits, he breaks them to rebuild,” he quoted his own words that he had said to Lady Yestariel about Morgoth. “You have the potential, my gentle darling.”

“You can kill me,” she breathed out to that. “I shall not take any part in your sorcery.”

“Yes, you will,” Annatar only said as he calmly turned around, approaching the doors. “I shall leave you here and the longer you hear their screams and cries, the more inclined you will be to forge me The Nine. And do not forget about your father either,” he added. “Good luck,” he smirked one more time before leaving her alone in her workshop.

Long hours passed and it was bright already when (Y/N) heard the doors open again. She expected no one else but Sauron himself, asking her about the progress. But it was not him – it was Mirdania.

She wondered how he had let that happen but considering the fact they were in the middle of a siege, it was quite acceptable for him to lose his focus on her for a moment.

“My Lady?” Mirdania asked, unsurely. “Are you hiding here?”

“I… I…” (Y/N) didn’t know what to answer.

She had been trying to get out of there but the doors had been locked and not even any of her tools had managed to open them. She had even considered jumping off of the tower but decided to not follow her mother’s steps and to prove the strength of her will. She simply had no idea how Mirdania managed to open the door – unless that was a part of Sauron’s plan as well…

But no – she refused to get paranoid.

“I am waiting for my father’s orders,” (Y/N) lied quickly.

“That is the thing, my Lady… Lord Celebrimbor is out of his mind, he acts as if the siege is not taking place. Lord Annatar is trying to help us but some of the commanders would rather wait for your orders,” Mirdania explained and (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of her betrothed’s name.

She opened her mouth to warn Mirdania about Annatar but then she realised she was on thin ice already. Her parents were both mad in the eyes of these people and she had her incidents as well. Now, in the middle of the attack, she was hiding inside the tower. If she was claiming now, all of the sudden, that the man she had been the most devoted to for the past few months was Sauron himself… Well, that could not possibly end well.

So, she had to straighten her back and simply pretend that everything was under control to calm her people down.

“I see,” she nodded. “Let me speak to Commander Malendrol,” she requested and followed Mirdania outside the tower.

To her surprise, there were no obstacles on the way. When she walked out of the tower and went into the courtyard, Commander Malendrol ran up to her immediately.

“My Lady, we are waiting for your orders,” he bowed his head at her.

“Who is leading the Orc’s attack?” (Y/N) asked, wanting confirmation of her suspicions.

“That man claiming to be the father of them – Adar,” Commander Malendrol answered, a little confused.

“I want to speak to him,” (Y/N) decided as Mirdania and the guard widened their eyes at her.

“My Lady!” Mirdania gasped. “That is too late to negotiate.”

“Has anyone tried?” (Y/N) raised an eyebrow.

“Herald Elrond, my Lady,” Commander Malendrol nodded at her.

“Let me as well. I am the Lady of Eregion since my father is… indisposed,” she insisted. “Send a messenger to Adar and tell him that Lady (Y/N) wishes to negotiate with him,” she told Commander Malendrol and then she hesitated. “Tell him to consider it… for the sake of his old friendship with Lady Yestariel. Adar will know what that is supposed to mean.”

Escorted by her guards that had been stripped of their swords, Lady (Y/N) walked through the muddy battlefield as the siege had stopped for a while and the Orcs kept staring at her with curiosity.

She did not feel safe by any means and the fact that Annatar had allowed her to get out of the tower, so far from the city, was more than worrying, she had to admit.

Still, she wanted to take her chance.

She spotted Adar approaching her from the opposite side and she recognised him immediately from the visions Annatar had shown to her before about her great aunt.

“Lady (Y/N),” Adar bowed his head slightly at the sight of her.

“Lord Father,” she tried to address him with respect and he cracked a smile before pointing at a tent to which he invited her.

She nodded her head at her guards and they allowed her to walk inside without them. Adar followed and they were left alone since no Orc was in there either.

“Thank you for still wanting to negotiate. Forgive my tardiness. My father is indisposed,” (Y/N) looked at Adar and watched him carefully.

“There is nothing to negotiate, Lady (Y/N). However, I could not deny your request after Lady Yestariel’s name was mentioned,” he sat down on one of the chairs but (Y/N) refused to sit down as she kept standing above him.

“What do you want of Eregion?” She asked. “I do not care if I live or die, I have lived for centuries, I have made sure my name will not be forgotten for I have mastered my humble craft. And I know that after I die, the light of Valinor awaits me. My people, however, the citizens of Eregion… Some of them are very young – they are children. They have not yet lived enough and they are far too young to understand. They are scared and in pain. I want it to stop,” she confessed as silent tears escaped her eyes.

“I want Sauron,” Adar answered, unbothered by her tears although his eyes kept following them streaming down her cheeks.

“I know who he is. I shall give him to you,” (Y/N) looked down at her hand where the silver ring still decorated her finger. She fidgeted with it nervously as she cracked a nervous smile. “Come with me, Lord Father,” she raised her eyes to lay them upon him. “I shall lead you inside Eregion and bring you to him. Spare my city and I shall give you Sauron.”

Long silence occurred and Adar kept watching her with his eyes squinted. She didn’t feel in danger around him but she could feel that he was not trusting her. She didn’t understand why, though.

“Why would I believe you? Is it not his ring you are wearing?” He snorted at her hand and she swallowed thickly.

“How do you know? I have been deceived… But I do not love Sauron,” she assured him, desperately.

“How can I be so sure that you are not willing to lead me into his trap? The way I see it, he was the one to send you here,” Adar explained.

“Why would I follow his orders? I hate him!” (Y/N) exclaimed, frustrated. “I want him dead as much as you,” she hissed out but she felt her heart quickening its pace at the realisation that she was trying to convince herself as much as him.

“He was the one to send you here… even if you do not realise that yet. Everything is a part of his scheme,” Adar told her softly and stood up to approach her. “You are far too gone now, my Lady; too entangled in his web,” he held her hands gently, squeezing the finger with Annatar’s silver ring on it. “Your great aunt was a dear friend of mine. We joined Morgoth together and we suffered together. I mourned her death.”

“And now, for the sake of the memory of her, can you not trust me?” (Y/N) tried to search for compassion in his cold eyes and she found it. But not in the way she expected.

“For the sake of the memory of her and because I have known Yestariel and her devotion to Morgoth, I know I cannot trust you a bit – even if I wanted to.”

(Y/N) was full of anger and frustration when she was on her way back to Eregion. The siege was supposed to go back to its full force in a few minutes since Adar had graciously granted her enough time to go back to her people before he would attack once again.

Her jaw was clenched and her eyes were burning with anger caused by her frustration. She truly had been thinking that Adar would help her and join her clever plan. However, Annatar kept destroying everything even when he was physically far away from her.

The moment she entered the city, she bumped into him – Annatar himself, looking as if the siege around him had not affected him at all because his robes and face remained clean. Even the whimsical bow in his blond hair seemed to be untouched. He looked down at her and greeted her with a warm smile.

“My love, I was told you had gone to negotiate with the Orcs? I have been so worried,” he put on a show in front of others.

“Oh, get out of my way,” (Y/N) pushed him away as everyone gasped, staring at her with widened eyes as she kept walking towards her tower.

“My Lord, are you alright?” Mirdania was by Annatar’s side in no time, offering him comfort after such a treatment from his betrothed. In fact, everyone pitied him – he made sure of that by putting on his hurt and confused expression.

“It is nothing,” Annatar assured her with a sad smile. “Lady (Y/N) is worried about the city and her father. Her annoyance is understandable.”

“We are all nervous, my Lord. She should have not acted this way towards you…” Mirdania insisted and Annatar took a deep breath in while trying to compose himself.

Once again he had been proved that the most devoted ones were always the most annoying ones as well.

He had to admit, he quite liked (Y/N)’s anger and the way she had pushed him. From that scared little mouse curling up on the floor beneath him, she quickly gathered her strength and courage and that was the most admirable.

“That is enough, Mirdania,” Annatar gave the smith a harsh, scolding look that took her aback. “We are in the middle of a siege and my relationship with Lady (Y/N) should not be one of your concerns. In fact, it should not be your concern at all. Now, forgive me, I should follow her for she seems to be upset.”

And as he said, he did, gathering his robe and hurrying up the stairs to (Y/N)’s workshop.

The doors were ajar, so he only gently pushed them to see what she was doing and what he witnessed made him gasp softly.

(Y/N) was sitting on the ground, surrounded by all the tools she needed, the gemstones, metals and the cauldrons melting them. Her hands were shaking out of anger and one of her hands was cut open; bleeding all over the ingredients of the future Nine Rings she was forging.

Hearing him walk inside, she looked up with fury and anger that sent a shiver down his spine. She had absolutely no idea how beautiful she looked but also how terrifying. Like a dark witch her great aunt had aspired to be.

Like a dark witch Sauron himself craved to have by his side; for her to command his armies of demons and shadows.

“I can play a game with you, too, shadow of Morgoth,” she drawled out through her gritted teeth. “You wish for my blood and its dark magic to seal your greatest creations? Let it be then,” she smirked as she squeezed her hand and allowed more of her blood to leak out. “Watch me curse myself for the usage of this forbidden craft. I care no more about what happens to me because, in the end, the last laugh will be mine, you fool,” her eyes sparkled at the sight of her blood mixing with the melting gold. Then, she looked up at him again. “You are forever bound with me now and for whatever you will use these Nine Rings – or The Seven that are allied to them – I shall be a part of your schemes forever now. My influence and my power is bleeding into these and you better beware while you use them for I swear to you… These Nine Rings will be your demise,” she finished her curse and used a thin spatula to mix the gold with her blood as she already reached out for the gemstones with her free hand.

Annatar had nothing to say at that. He only kept watching her in awe – witnessing her most beautiful craft and her most beautiful, terrific rage.

Oh, he was in love with her, he thought.

Now he was certain of it.

“These Rings are not my greatest creations,” he whispered. “You are.”

MASTERLIST

#annatar x reader #sauron x reader #halbrand x reader #lilysfiction

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lillysilvermoon · 6 months ago

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What your spiritual team want you to know in September

Pile 1.

Hi Pile one!! First of all I want to say that I loved your cards 🥹❤️☀️ but lets get into it, shall we?

In September, you will spread your wings more - or, if you aren't doing it, your spiritual team is encouraging you to do so!!. Focus on have more freedom and something differently, you kind of a adventure. Explore a new place you never went to in your city, be confident and plan forward, this is highly encouraged since everything you work for in September you be paying off. Like really, you literally have two cards saying that all your hard work you be paying off.

Focus on long-term goals and projects this month and invest in SUSTAINABLE RESULTS PLEASE (this wasn't me. They are reaaaaaaally emphasizing this). If you have long-term visions for something, they want you to know that it will work, so continue doing the great job you are doing. The last card literally saying you will be successful and winning battles 🥹 whatever you are going through, pile 1, knows that it's not going unseen, your guides are with you and you WILL get out of this like a winner. Have more faith in yourself.

P.s: This was giving intuitively: do more meditation, spend more time in the sun and connecting with especially trees (and for some: especially pines trees)

Pile 2

Hi Pile 2, welcome to your readind♡

Well, you probably are going through something difficult, and having a hard time, this is causing you to feel drained of energy and mentally overloaded, a lot of fast thinking and too much thought all at the same time causing mental stress and disturbing your center (in my culture we call this Ori, some call it crown). You need to balance your emotions and your mind, relaxation and deep reflection will help, for some go to a walk is the best, especially at sunset time but for fome sunrise will be the best, really early. You need to balance your feminine energy (and this has NOTHING to do with gender. Therefore, if you are a man, this can apply to you as well). Maybe you have some old woman in your life that really cares about you, listen to her! If not, it's probably someone on your spiritual team, listen your intuition, pay attention to your thoughts and signs, and she may be talking to you through them.

Focus on nurturing yourself and your life, be more in tune with your emotions, and have more empathy towards yourself. This is REALLY needed this month. It's also important for you to be more independent, try to do more things on your own in September (example: if you dondt go alone to places, go watch a movie or to a coffee shop alone) but remember the BALANCE, it's really importante to have this line very clear, be independent it is NOT the same to don't know how to accept help and be take cared of, be aware of that this month.

Last but not least: don't be afraid to go against the flow, maybe you want to do something that you KNOW will work but people around you don't believe, go for it! Your guides are with you, but remember to act on this without being impulsive! Make a plan, be strategic, and you shall win.

Pile 3

Hello Pile 3♡ let's get into your reading. First things first: be aware this month of ANYTHING that's looks "too good to be true" either a person or an opportunity. Second: focus on having open and honest communication, no white lies, no lying. In this month, will be important to be more strategic and resourceful, okay? acting tactically will give you an advantage in some moments this month.

You will have some opportunities this month and, if you refuse you may be feel yearning and regretted, but have in mind the first thing said: pay attention to ANYTHING looking too good to be true, we have two scenarios here: the first one is that you maybe feel this away, but was a blessing you hadn't accepted the opportunity, because was a lie and you were actually being protected! The second one is: some opportunity is actually good and worth, to know which one is you need to have more time in meditation and reflection about that.

Also take some time this month to reflect on wat is really important to you, take this moment to know yourself more and see what makes you feel bored and unhappy and do something about it, with make a change for the better

#witchcraft #witch #tarot spread #daily tarot #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a card tarot #love tarot free #tarot free reading #free readings #free tarot

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vasiliquemort · 4 months ago

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~Commissions are open!~

- Bust of one character up to the chest: 60$ Background for busts is free to be added<з

- Portrait of one or more characters up to the waist: 70$ For background + 10 $ as base cost, prices over are determined by detailing. For each new character + 20 $

- Character (or several) in full growth: 80$ For background + 10 $ as base cost as well, prices over are determined by detailing. For each new character + 30 $

It could be such joy if you distributed this post - or even had desire to acquire something for yourself!<ззз

Below I have described in detail almost all the information that I could imagine as necessary, yet please do not hesitate to write for any reason in a private message or ask - it will be my absolute pleasure to tell or show you more, and I am always glad to have new delightful acquaintances!<зз

I do portraits in three formats - bust, waist-length and then full-length. They can be various in styling, therefore please pay close attention to the difference in the execution of these formats - the busts are always more detailed in the character's features, the atmosphere is more consistent in waist-length paintings, and full-length drawings are well suited to demonstrate clothing design or depicted scene.

I adore to experiment with styles and learn new tones of this craft - as each meeting is a start of something beautiful, and I desire to create art that is complex and multifaced, but to an important extend I should say that I do not feel comfortable to copy or imitate other's styles of execution and sensuality, and a lot of expressions and detailing in my work are sudden - art is an journey and yet I would love to share this journey with you;з

Cost of more complex and expressive pieces and backgrounds are increased by tips, which I express as an deeply loyal and tactful system - it is absolutely voluntary and happens only at the end of the project, so you have ability to define their cost to your feelings and abilities and nothing over that<зз

Also, if you do not have tumblr account or emailing for you is more preferable - you can also fill the commission form instead!<з

Oh!! And you have read almost everything! Thank you so much! And also there, under the cut, I describe the general process of work and how we pay. This is quite useful information for other questions that you may have if you desire to purchase my work, therefore I may advise you to take a look at it along;з

How do we work on an order?

Please feel free to contact me via Tumblr for any questions you may acquire! ~

After I discuss the content of the painting with the client and receive additional materials from them (a photo of the person I am drawing, or references that are close to what is expected of me), I start creating the first sketch.

In accordance with the request, I make a sketch of the future painting, which will contain all its important elements and an approximate color scheme (if any) that I will use. At this stage, you can freely make your amendments, and when the content suits you, I will ask you for an advance payment of half the cost of the work without additional prices of background or detailing.

After that, work on the portrait will begin. Its duration varies on several factors - to a greater extent on the volume and complexity of the work itself, as well as on my own workload with other projects.

After completing the portrait, I will send you its version in low quality- after you familiarize yourself with it (there is also possible some edits - of tones and color, elements of shading, character features and small details), and after you pay the rest of the amount, you shall receive the final result of our artwork! ~

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frankingsteinery · 3 months ago

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i’ve seen a lot of people in general agreement of the headcanon that victor is on the spectrum, but i’ve very rarely seen someone examine the why, and being the persnickety superfluous person that i am (and not being immune to projection myself) i thought i’d try my hand at it and break down his autistic traits!

disclaimer that this interpretation is speculative and is simply my unprofessional neurodivergent opinion + it’s based on contemporary understandings of psychology, which were not part of shelley's context, however autistic people have always existed even if there wasnt a word for it during that time period, etc etc. you know the drill

without further ado!

-- communication & social interaction

first and foremost, many autistics struggle with socialization. victor’s inclination to attach himself to a single friend (henry) and only talking to those inside of his close circle rather than forming many connections reflects this tendency, and he himself acknowledges his dislike and indifference of strangers. for example:

“It was my temper to avoid a crowd and to attach myself fervently to a few. I was indifferent, therefore, to my school-fellows in general; but I united myself in the bonds of the closest friendship to one among them”

“My life had hitherto been remarkably secluded and domestic, and this had given me invincible repugnance to new countenances… I believed myself totally unfitted for the company of strangers”

furthermore, he lacks relationship degradation (he does not require regular interaction or relationship maintenance to sustain a bond). during the creation process, he (presumably) goes months without writing to his family and friends, which clerval lectures him for:

“Very well, and very happy, only a little uneasy that they hear from you so seldom. By the by, I mean to lecture you a little upon their account myself."

yet upon his arrival at ingolstadt:

"...nothing could equal [his] delight on seeing Clerval."

victor also takes things literally several times and social nuances can fly over his head. he demonstrates this literalism when first meeting elizabeth:

"And when, on the morrow, she presented Elizabeth to me as her promised gift, I, with childish seriousness, interpreted her words literally and looked upon Elizabeth as mine"

and, of course, the infamous i will be with you on your wedding-night scene, when the creature obviously means he tends to harm elizabeth, not victor himself:

“It is well. I go; but remember, I shall be with you on your wedding-night.” I started forward and exclaimed, “Villain! Before you sign my death-warrant, be sure that you are yourself safe!"

he also goes nonverbal and groans/vocalizes instead of speaking when upset. there's several instances of this that i can recall (i believe another is with walton), but i could only find one, where elizabeth has to speak for him during their visit to justine:

"When she saw who it was, she approached me and said, “Dear sir, you are very kind to visit me; you, I hope, do not believe that I am guilty?” ... I could not answer. “No, Justine,” said Elizabeth"

and this is more of a sidenote but he gives walton every. minute. detail. of his story, including his childhood in-depth (which was not particularly relevant to the moral of victors tale, which was the whole reason he wound up sharing his story in the first place) which definitely feels like. Something. reminiscent of infodumping almost.

-- repetitive behaviors

victor shows both repetitive motions and repetitive language to such an extent that it'd be ridiculous to put them all here, particularly when he is distressed and agitated. some of these motions include clasping his hands, covering his face with his hands, and gnashing his teeth, which he does on walton's boat, after finding out about william's death, in his confrontation with the creature, during his time at the orkney islands, etc. the use of certain phrases/verbal repetition include his many "great god!"s and "begone!"s, which he usually says in reaction to the creature or while grieving a loved one. these behaviors are arguably self-stimulatory (stimming) and done to cope with overwhelming, stressful situations.

-- fixations/spinterests

ths one's perhaps his most blatant characteristic. victor has a highly focused, intense interest, initially in in the workings of the world itself:

"It was the secrets of heaven and earth that I desired to learn... still my inquiries were directed to the metaphysical, or in its highest sense, the physical secrets of the world."

"The world was to me a secret, which I desired to discover;"

"I have described myself as always having been imbued with a fervent longing to penetrate the secrets of nature"

this is to the extent that his education is noticeably different from his peers, both in acceleration in the topic of his choice and neglect of other, more typical studies due to the intensity of this focus:

“I confess that neither the structure of languages, nor the code of governments, nor the politics of various states possessed attractions for me.”

“…but by some fatality the overthrow of these men disinclined me to pursue my accustomed studies.”

this early fixation eventually narrows into a special interest in ancient alchemy, after victor finds one of agrippa's works and a "new light seems to dawn upon [his] mind," upon which he proceeds to acquire all the works of agrippa and other authors:

"When I returned home my first care was to procure the whole works of this author, and afterwards of Paracelsus and Albertus Magnus. I read and studied the wild fancies of these writers with delight; they appeared to me treasures known to few besides myself"

this remains his special interest until he is a teenager, upon which, after finding out ancient alchemy has been disproven, he takes up mathematics until his arrival at ingolstadt. then, his interest shifts into a fixation on natural philosophy, particularly chemistry, which becomes his "sole occupation":

"He concluded with a panegyric upon modern chemistry, the terms of which I shall never forget... one by one the various keys were touched which formed the mechanism of my being; chord after chord was sounded, and soon my mind was filled with one thought, one conception, one purpose"

"I read with ardour those works, so full of genius and discrimination, which modern inquirers have written on these subjects... the stars often disappeared in the light of morning whilst I was yet engaged in my laboratory. As I applied so closely, it may be easily conceived that my progress was rapid. My ardour was indeed the astonishment of the students, and my proficiency that of the masters"

which, of course, develops into an interest in physiology and the structure of the human frame, which leads to his obsession over the secret of life, followed by being "thus engaged, heart and soul, in one pursuit" during the creation of the creature.

-- intense, volatile emotions; resistance to change

in general, victor is very emotionally demonstrative, and has difficulty managing these emotions. he also experiences quick fluctuations in emotion. this is something he has experienced since childhood, and is something he maintains as an adult, when he acknowledges that:

"My temper was sometimes violent…"

some examples of these shifts in emotion:

"My heart, which was before sorrowful, now swelled with something like joy..."

"Sometimes he commanded his countenance and tones and related the most horrible incidents with a tranquil voice, suppressing every mark of agitation; then, like a volcano bursting forth, his face would suddenly change to an expression of the wildest rage as he shrieked out imprecations on his persecutor"

hand in hand with his emotional dysregulation, he shows resistance to change and has strong reactions to this change. the most obvious example of this is during the animation of the creature:

"The different accidents of life are not so changeable as the feelings of human nature... but now that I had finished, the beauty of the dream vanished, and breathless horror and disgust filled my heart"

"Mingled with this horror, I felt the bitterness of disappointment; dreams that had been my food and pleasant rest for so long a space were now become a hell to me; and the change was so rapid, the overthrow so complete!"

but it also occurs when moving to ingolstadt, suggesting a discomfort with unfamilarity and a need for stability:

I threw myself into the chaise that was to convey me away and indulged in the most melancholy reflections. I, who had ever been surrounded by amiable companions, continually engaged in endeavouring to bestow mutual pleasure—I was now alone.

-- black-and-white thinking

this aspect is most clearly shown through the way victor thinks about, and drops and gains interests and relationships. he spends years studying ancient alchemy and it is his principle interest, and then drops it on a dime and suddenly looks upon this passion with contempt:

“By one of those caprices of the mind which we are perhaps most subject to in early youth, I at once gave up my former occupations, set down natural history and all its progeny as a deformed and abortive creation, and entertained the greatest disdain for a would-be science which could never even step within the threshold of real knowledge. In this mood of mind I betook myself to the mathematics and the branches of study appertaining to that science as being built upon secure foundations, and so worthy of my consideration”

later, he spends four years with his mind filled with "one thought, one conception, one purpose" studying the processes of life so intensely he forgoes adequate food, water and rest. this culminates in the creation and subsequent animation of the creature, which he again turns around and abandons this interest immediately, to the extent that he cannot bear to think of natural philosophy:

Ever since the fatal night, the end of my labours, and the beginning of my misfortunes, I had conceived a violent antipathy even to the name of natural philosophy.

it's a very polarized, all-or-nothing approach that is mirrored with his relationships, too, which he alternatedly neglects -- he cuts contact when he goes to ingolstadt but abruptly picks it up again when henry comes into his life; when the creature flees victor's apartment, victor treats it as if he never existed entirely; his family only comes to the center of the narrative again when he gets the letter from alphonse about william's murder, despite 2 years having been passed at ingolstadt, etc.

and finally;

-- low empathy

victor repeatedly focuses solely on his own internal emotional experience, and struggles to fully comprehend and understand the depth of feelings of others and respond with compassion in conventional ways. during justine's trial, for instance, he elevates his own suffering above justine's, even as she faces her literal execution:

I rushed out of the court in agony. The tortures of the accused did not equal mine; she was sustained by innocence, but the fangs of remorse tore my bosom and would not forgo their hold.

Despair! Who dared talk of that? The poor victim, who on the morrow was to pass the awful boundary between life and death, felt not, as I did, such deep and bitter agony.

similarly, victor dismisses ernest's grief after william's death, he frames it in terms of how it affects himself -- telling ernest to "be more calm" to avoid causing his own discomfort:

Ernest began to weep as he said these words. “Do not,” said I, “welcome me thus; try to be more calm, that I may not be absolutely miserable the moment I enter my father’s house after so long an absence.

this detachment suggests not deliberate cruelty (victor very clearly loves his family, and he's said to be kind several times) but a limited capacity to process and respond to other's emotions. this is a detachment that extends to his views of the dead. during the creation of the creature, he refers to the corpses he utilizes as only "materials" instead of once having been fully-fledged human beings, and he does not contemplate the lives or dignity of the deceased.

aaaaaand thats it! thank you for indulging my. headcanon projection land. let me know what you all think...

#rob.txt #frankenstein #victor frankenstein #analysis

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accirax · 1 month ago

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Translating and Analyzing Project: Eden's Garden's Title Theme

Haven't personally seen anyone else do this yet, so I figured I'd share my curiosity stirred up by the just-released Main Title Theme Live Symphony Performance with the class.

As a note, I don't speak Latin at all, so I will be relying on Google (including Google Translate) to help me out. Therefore, it's possible that some segments-- especially longer sentences or phrases-- may be translated incorrectly. If you do speak Latin and notice something that's off, I'd love to know!

This post will contain spoilers for Chapter 1, so please don't read this if you aren't caught up. That being said, let's get started with my most enthralling "theory" to date: trying to reverse engineer teaching myself Latin.

Because multiple sets of lyrics are occasionally sung at the same time, it's possible that my screenshots will contain multiple phrases in them. I'll do my best to avoid having that happen as much as possible, but otherwise, the explanatory captions under the pictures should make it clear which section I'm talking about!

A simple search of "omnibus" returns that it means "to all," but "omnibus de omnibus" becomes "everything about everything." This online Latin-English dictionary clarifies that the noun "omnis" can mean "all people" or "all things/everything." The -ibus suffix could be indicative of the locative, dative, or ablative tense. Ohio State University explains that the locative conjugation indicates the place where something happens, the dative conjugation indicates the person to whom something happens, and the ablative tense is really complicated could either mean why something happened (its origin) or how something happened (the means by which it occurred).

From what I can tell, "dubitandum" seems much simpler. It's just the gerund form of the verb "dubitare," which means "to doubt." In English, a gerund is a word that ends in "-ing" but is used as a noun. "Writing" in the sentence "I like writing" is a gerund because writing is a thing (a noun) that I like. Although dubitandum is a viable conjugation for many verb tenses, it seems to appear most often in the accusative case, which refers to "the end destination."

Stringing it together, "omnibus de omnibus dubitandum" would probably mean something like "all people will eventually doubt everything", or, as Google Translate would put it, "to doubt everything about everything."

"De omnibus dubitandum" specifically is apparently a common phrase (attributed to Renee Descartes) that just means "doubt everything." According to the link I just pasted, it was also a favorite saying of Karl Marx. C-Cassidy...?

Next is both a low register and a high register singing "fiat voluntas tu." "Fiat" is the singular present tense of "to do," so basically just "do." "Voluntas" seems to pop up most frequently as a noun, meaning "will" or "intent." And "tua", much like the Spanish "tú," just means "your." Smashing those together results in "do your will," or as Google Translate more eloquently puts it, "your will be done." "Thy will be done," if you want to get really fancy.

Here comes a long one. In total, the full sentence reads, "liber scriptus proferetur, in quo totem continentur, unde mundus judicetur." Thankfully, I don't have to translate this one. My boy William Josiah Irons already did it for me!

Reason being, this line is taken directly from the medieval Latin poem Dies Irae, AKA Day of Wrath, by Thomas of Celano. (And no, I did not know this offhand, I had to look this up too). Irons' translation tries to keep the original rhyme and meter of the Latin version, so if you want to sing along, use this:

Lo, the book, exactly worded, Wherein all hath been recorded, Thence shall judgement be awarded.

However, if that version is a bit too fancy for you, Wikipedia has a more modern translation:

The written book will be brought forth, in which all is contained, from which the world shall be judged.

If you're like me and know nothing about religion, you might see "book" in a medieval Roman (AKA Catholic) song and immediately assume that they're talking about the Bible. However, if Wikipedia is to be believed, they're referencing a different piece of literature which, to be fair, is at least mentioned in the Bible...! The Book of Life in Christian faith is "God’s record of all those over the centuries who have trusted Christ as their Savior and have followed Him as Lord." Therefore, the "all that is contained" would refer to the names of all of the holy people who believe in Catholicism.

The world-judging bit refers to "Judgment Day" or "The Last Judgment." That term refers to belief that, someday, Jesus Christ will return to Earth, and at that point, God will judge everyone who's ever lived, saving the faithful people and damning the non-believers. There are varying beliefs on whether more people would be saved or more people would be damned, but considering the song is called "Day of Wrath," I have to imagine Mr. Celano wasn't that optimistic. This song is famously associated with Catholic funeral masses too, so that upbeat attitude really stuck.

I could barely even hear this part under the music, but the subtitles alerted me to the fact that the chorus chants "da mihi factum, dabo tibi ius" here! This is another one I don't have to translate, because it's a reference to something else B)

"Da mihi factum, dabo tibi ius" means "give me the facts, I will give you law," according to A Guide to Latin in International Law via Oxford Reference. The reason why it's written in Latin is because, apparently, this saying originates from the Roman court system.

Looking at the bottom row, the lower-pitched chanting says, "vulnerant omnia, ultima necat." This semi-common phrase typically translates to, "all hours wound, the last one kills," even if the "hour" ("horae") isn't included.

The top comment on this Reddit thread breaks it down the way I would if I inherently knew Latin:

Let's review the underlying grammar: Vulnerant=they wound omnia is ambiguous because it can be both the subject and the object of vulnerant. However, in this case, horae is understood to be the subject, so omnia must be the object. It means all things. If it were omnes, then it would also be ambiguous because omnes can also be both as well. [...] So Vulnerant omnia [horae]=all [hours] wound* or the hours wound all things. The second one isn't very pleasant. And Vulnerant omnes [horae]=all [hours] wound* or the hours wound [men/men and women]. Ultima necat=the last kills

The comment also elaborates that the "horae" is assumed because the phrase is often found on clocks or sundials in churches. Many different sources return this phrase (or slight variations on it) including hours in the meaning, so I'm inclined to believe that it's true.

The bottom line repeats the same phrase again after this, so I won't include it for a second time.

Our final line! In the middle row, we have "Opere et veritate, de omnibus dubitandum!" This one isn't a reference, but luckily it's still easy enough to figure out.

The second half of the sentence is something we've looked at before. As a recap, "de" means "of," "omnibus" means "of everything/everyone", and dubitandum means "doubting." So, the second half of the sentence will probably mean something like "doubting of everything."

"Opere," much like "opus" is a noun meaning "work," as in a work of art. "Et" means "and," and "veritate" means "truth." The handy-dandy Latin-Is-Simple.com conveniently puts this together as "in action and in truth."

Together, the sentence means something like "in action and in truth, have doubt of everything/everyone." Google Translate puts it as "by work and truth, we must doubt everything," but I like my translation better.

Therefore, altogether, here's a rough translation of the P:EG theme's lyrics:

All people will eventually doubt everything... Thy will be done... The Book of Life will be brought forth, in which the names of all the holy are contained, and then the world will be judged. Give me the facts, I will give you law! All hours wound, the last hour kills. In action and truth, doubt everything and everyone. All hours wound, the last hour kills!

So, let's swap out our translator hats for lyrical analysis hats, 'cause there's obviously a lot here to relate to P:EG and the concept of killing games as a whole.

The first two lines paired together are a prophecy, a threat and a promise combined. Basically, the choir is saying, "you think that people will eventually doubt everything? Well, here's your wish come true!" The line clearly connects to Damon and his core philosophy. As long as Damon continues to not want to trust anybody, then nobody will seem trustworthy. Furthermore, if Damon continues to not trust others, that means there will always be one person in the group who won't be trustful, so everyone being trustful is impossible.

Not that it's much of a surprise, but the kinda judgy tone of these first two lyrics definitely implies that Damon's attitude will be challenged (and likely corrected) at some point in the story. "Thy will" was a stylization, but the truth remains that the phrase referred to a singular entity. The lyrics place the focus on a single individual, and blames them for everything that follows by implying that the lack of trust is their fault. It's very reminiscent of the end of the Prologue, where the entire class blames Damon and Eva for ruining the vibes between them.

The Day of Wrath section continues the game's religious theming, invoking discussions of the end of all times. Although I doubt a literal Armageddon will happen in P:EG, I can certainly understand how the participants of the killing game would consider it the end of all things. Certainly, a lot of less-than-virtuous people will be dying here, especially if you're under the assumption that everyone who kills is morally bankrupt.

It's certainly an interesting implication that those in the killing game who are most virtuous might be the ones who are saved. Are they just extending that morality to how likely someone is to kill them? Like, people wouldn't kill you if they think you're cool? There is also the argument that students who are too curious or have something to hide are more likely to find themselves in deadly situations (a la Wolfgang), leaving the less bold students alive in the end. Still, that's not as much of a judgment on God's (Tozu's?) part.

Something in me wonders if this killing game might have been created as a challenge. I don't think that the motivations behind it would be to punish this group of students in particular-- we know semi-factually that some of their deepest, darkest secrets are hardly anything to sneeze at. Instead of being so targeted, the goal would be to have most of the students fail, while a select few succeed.

There's a definite possibility that Eden's Garden College-- and the titular Project: Eden's Garden-- is a ploy to weed out the "fake Ultimates" by proving who truly has what it takes to succeed in the cutthroat world of business by literally cutting people's throats. Becoming the "true face of talent" could mean literally erasing the other faces of those who weigh the title of Ultimate down; with so many Ultimates around, it's easy to not notice if one or two go missing.

If we're in a world where talent is valued above all else, the "virtue" that Tozu could be sparing them for could be talent itself. "Leadership, communication, and persuasion" are certainly skills that could help you survive a Class Trial (whether as a blackened or spotless). Depending how deep the corruption goes in this world, it's possible that the graduates of Eden's Garden Academy-- survivors of former killing games-- are simply willing to keep quiet about the Academy's dark secret if it means that they can claim all of the accolades for themselves. They fought for and earned it, after all.

If this is the direction the story takes, I can definitely see how making someone like Damon the protagonist would be the perfect choice. For him to spend all game talking about his superiority and belief in the talents of the Academy only to learn that all of the Ultimates he admired kept 14 nearly-as-talented skeletons in their closet would surely create an interesting internal conflict for the final Class Trial.

This is all just a theory, as there are plenty of other ways the Day of Wrath poem could relate to P:EG. However, I think it's a theory with a decent backing behind it.

"Give me the facts, I will give you law"-- I mean, that has to relate to Wolfgang, right? Even beyond the fact that it just says "law" in it, it's international law, perfect for an Ultimate Lawyer who wants to unite everyone. This line could definitely indicate how Wolfgang took Damon's facts (that some people in the Academy would be willing to kill) and turned them into ammunition for his own missive. If I were writing this analysis before Ch1 dropped, I would probably have speculated more about the future rivalry between Damon and Wolfgang. Instead, Damon and Wolfgang's "rivalry" is already over, with honestly not that much beef between them.

Given that Wolfgang is dead, it's also worth it to consider this outside of a Wolfgang context moving forward. This line could also relate to Damon's experiences in solving a Class Trial: after getting the facts of the case, Damon goes to the Class Trial Grounds and lays down the law.

"All hours wound, the last hour kills" is super interesting in the context of a killing game. My immediate connection was to the chapters, or in-universe Trials, of the killing game. All chapters of the game will wound Damon and the eventual other survivors, but it's the final chapter in which they're confronted with the true despairs of the world.

Another interpretation could work on a more chapter-by-chapter basis: every day in the killing game damages something, whether it's the killer's sanity or their business/reputation out in the real world, so it's in their "last hour" when they snap and need to get out. Especially with the ticking clock of the Traitor Perk out there for Eva at least and possibly future killers as well, time feels like a big factor.

In general, I would assume that (if the quote is found on clocks in churches) the phrase probably means something along the lines of "don't procrastinate," which could also be applied to the concept of Ultimates in general. They're always on that grindset.

And finally, "in action and truth, don't trust anything or anyone." This line is pretty unremarkable (being a pretty obvious repetition of Damon's mindset at the beginning of the game) other than in contrast with the beginning of the song. As I said, at the beginning of the song, the choir was almost reprimanding Damon with their "thy will be done." However, here, not trusting anything or anyone is spoken more like advice.

It could be that the choir was actually speaking more neutrally at the beginning, and that they're willing to accept the lack of trust because they always knew it would happen. Or, it could be that, by this point in the song, the lyrics have shifted to represent Damon's point of view instead of the universe's. If "I will give you law" did relate to Damon laying down the law, maybe that "I" pronoun is the point of the song at which the lyrics become Damon's thoughts?

Otherwise, maybe the choir is just meant to make Damon feel bad no matter what he does. Let's assume that, over the course of the game, Damon will come to trust certain individuals more. If true, then at the beginning of the game, the choir could be like "damn if you want to not trust people then it's kinda your fault what happens next dude," and closer to the end they could be like "oooooooh you wanna not trust people so bad remember Eva?" If the song is just meant to be an imposing feel-bad moment, then the emotions of the impartial choir could be unimportant.

And, well, that's the song! As is basically my brand, this post wound up way longer than I thought it would, back when I thought I was just going to Google Translate all the lyrics and be done with it. But, I hope that learning a bit about Latin was intriguing (assuming I did it correctly), and that the plotlines implied by the lyrics have given you a bit to chew on!

Still working on the overall Ch1 review/analysis, I just thought that writing this post would only take me, like, half an hour... Hopefully I'll see you back whenever that's done! Until then!

#project: eden's garden #p:eg #p:eg spoilers #fanganronpa #damon maitsu #wolfgang akire #can you tell i just finished reading the under.tale legends of localization book #that book slaps btw if you like this post and that game you should totally read it it's free online #i so hope i didn't fuck up the latin horribly but i think it all makes sense?#it helps my confidence that a good portion of the song was previously known saying lol #my theories

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a-man-in-the-crowd · 20 days ago

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Pluto Is Trans (in my humble opinion)

okay so as far as i'm aware this is a pretty common hc in the fandom (i lurk in the tumblr side of the fandom mostly and i haven't taken the time to go through the pluto tag simply bc i wanted to make this post first), BUT i just wanted to add my two cents into it bc i love pluto and need a reason to yap about him

i'm mostly going to be focusing on him in the maze arc, simply because i think his character has remained pretty consistent since then, as well as his flashback. if i ever noticed anything else in later (or even future) chapters i might come back to this but for now i think i basically have everything i can think of down

of course most of this is still pretty much projecting ☠️ i'm pretty well aware pluto isn't like ACTUALLY trans. this is just a headcanon based on things we've seen of him, not like an actual theory or anything

1. His Appearance

so the first thing that really got me thinking about how he has major trans vibes is his design

comically oversized coat that covers up his actual figure, he's slouching (to hide his chest, mayhaps??), and his hair gives me major trans vibes for reasons i'm not sure how to explain but like let me try anyways

maybe i'm digging too deep into this, but his hair feels VERY different from the other male characters (montresor with gorgeous shoulder-length hair is an outlier and shall not be counted) and again i have no clue how to put words to this but it has the vibes of someone who's too nervous to cut it too short bc 'what if it looks bad' (re: what if i look like i'm trying too hard to look like a guy). but that might just be the projection talking.

oh yeah, he's also the shortest male character as far as i'm aware. basically every male character towers over him (so, so real, i fear) and even will is taller than him (though apparently will is 5'10??? idek anymore 😭). now, does being short make you afab? no, obviously not. but that + the fact he's wearing and oversized shirt gives me some major trans vibes

most of this stuff is incidental, but honestly that's definitely the most actually concrete thing i have to explain myself

fear not, though, i can and WILL read too deep into things and i will read things however i wish

2. His Agoraphobia

the only 'level' of the fear maze that he has a big reaction to is the agoraphobia level. why?

now, could this very reasonably because he's paranoid? yes. but you can be paranoid AND trans. in fact, i think the two frequently go hand-in-hand, especially in areas where being 'caught' as trans can be dangerous.

perhaps he's scared of being stared at because he fears they'll figure out he isn't 'really' a man. and what then, when they figure it out? what'll they do then?

i wouldn't be surprised if pluto had some sort of traumatic experience while being in a crowd alone. this doesn't necessarily have anything to do with my hc, but it very well could. we know he's very small and frail, it doesn't seem like he had many friends when he was alive, and the neighbourhood he lived in doesn't seem particularly safe. he has plenty reason to be terrified, even ignoring my silly lil hc, but i think this particular debilitating fear implies he has genuine experience with something bad happening in a crowd.

3. He's Physically Affectionate

something something you can be a cis guy and be physically affectionate something something this is just a thing to consider in relation to literally everything else i'm talking about something something

anyways

he's my emotional support animal actually ❤️

obviously we've seen other male characters be physically affectionate (like duke), but this is definitely a trait i'd ascribe the most to pluto. now, does this mean anything in isolation? of course not. he has trauma, he could've just been desperate for affection when he was alive and therefore in his afterlife he has this overwhelming need to aggressively hug his friends (which is a completely fair interpretation and i think most of the the things i talk about are a combination of trauma and being trans)

but like just let me say my piece. what if he's more physically affectionate because he was raised with, let's say 'feminine rules of socializing' — which is to say, hugging your friends is extremely normal and in fact encouraged.

this is one of those things where like if it weren't for everything else i wouldn't be saying anything, but BECAUSE of everything else i feel the need to scrutinize a bit more. i think it's definitely one of my weaker points but like. i don't care, ngl.

4. His Flashback

sooo funny story i can barely ever read this scene for multiple reasons (i feel so bad for pluto i want him to be crushed by the weight of all his friends' hugs and love he deserves it) but i will try my best to recall it and get like a semi-decent photo in for reference

i think this scene is kinda what confirms in my head that this shall remain a hc, because pluto's dad refers to him as a boy and by his name (which i will get don't worry i could never forget about how incredibly transgender it is to be named fucking PLUTO). but, consider: i am delusional and a professional bullshitter.

so here is my absolutely nonsensical take based on nothing but vibes and some unfortunate personal experiences 🎉

this is gonna be my biggest 'bear with me yet', but plzplzplz bear with me. obviously by no stretch of the imagination would pluto's bitchass dad be supportive of him being trans or whatever word they'd use to describe pluto when he was alive (i've seen people theorize around ww1? idk man i don't have the knowledge on time periods required to rlly theorize about that).

but, just because someone calls you the right name and pronouns and terms doesn't make them an ally. this specific line from pluto's dad absolutely REEKED of that weaponization of gender dysphoria that at the very least i have experienced. taking every opportunity to tear down your gender identity because you're not stereotypically [gender] enough. someone like pluto's dad definitely feels like someone who would, instead of trying to deny pluto's identity, use it against him to make him feel shitty.

after all, having a son has its merits. pluto can work with no problem whatsoever, and something tells me that pluto's dad is a raging misogynist anyways. but that doesn't make him care any more for his kid, just make him more useful. and in reality, pluto's dad probably thinks it all one huge joke.

but yk that's just me yapping

5. HIS NAME IS FUCKING PLUTO?

okay so judging by pluto's comment to eulalie about his name, i think it's pretty safe to assume that he was specifically named after the roman god. and from what we've seen of pluto's dad, there is NO WAY he was the one who named him. unless pluto's dad for whatever reason had an admiration for roman mythology of all things. maybe autism runs in the family who knows.

now, i don't want to discount the idea that maybe his mother was the one who named him, but like i'm not even sure what the hell happened to his mom. so like. idk.

the name pluto in general definitely gives off the vibes of 'i named myself at twelve' (/affectionate, if your name is pluto you are beautiful and loved). it's nerdy but also mildly edgy. not exactly a common name, either. and the fact he knows his greek mythology implies interest in this sort of thing.

now, could his interest in greek and roman mythology be because of his mother, who could have named him pluto? yes, of course. in fact, the idea of a woman who was presumably living in poverty naming her son after the roman god of riches makes me teary-eyed. but so does the idea of a little trans boy living a shitty life with his shitty dad (who probably drained most of their money on booze, let's be real) naming himself after the roman god of riches.

also, the way he responds to eulalie gives off the vibe of 'well, i literally named myself after the roman god pluto so'. but that could just be me.

and last, but certainly not least...

6. His Spectre

this one is the cherry on top for me personally

he wants to escape the binds of society? go beyond what humanity deems admissible? YK LIKE BECOMING A DIFFERENT GENDER???

i don't have anything much else to say about the fact he's a cryptid, but yk what i do have more to say on?

6.5 So, like, wtf does it mean to be a 'domesticated cryptid'? — A Theory

now i am fully operating under my trans pluto hc, but i think this idea might be able to make sense with the canon of him being probably cis.

ms poppet says that cryptids are people who wish to 'go beyond what society deems admissible' — hence, they're generally wild animals. perhaps the reason pluto is a housecat is because the 'inadmissible' thing he wanted to do was live his life as he is; a normal, regular, cisgender man — or just like in general a normal dude, something he couldn't do for not-necessarily-trans reasons (like, maybe, being able to escape life with his shitty father).

he's not a wild animal because he didn't want to live outside of society, he wanted to be fully integrated into it as a normal person but he thought this impossible because society has already deemed him other. he could never be more than the role he was assigned — not the same way he could were he a normal, cis guy.

—

so yeah that's the end of my little ramble, if you read all the way thank you very much for letting me yap bc honestly i think the more i wrote this post the more genuinely convinced i was that pluto's trans. like idc if canon 100% proves me wrong it's too late i will simply ignore it and invent my own canon.

#pluto nevermore #i wanted to talk about his behaviour in relation to his trauma #but like #this post is supposed to be about his trans coding #and i didn't wanna get carried away #headcanon #nevermore webtoon #nevermore webcomic

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nothingenoughao3 · 8 months ago

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Herbert West Was Dead To Begin With (or, why Danbert was always doomed by the original narrative, pt. 1)

Thanks to this post by @gabelish, my brain went in about twenty directions. I have to talk about this or I'm going to end up chewing on my walls, and that's bad for my teeth.

Reading the script of BRIDE, it's... messy. Disorganized. You can tell they pounded this thing out in a month and didn't really have time to revise or edit. What's interesting is seeing the vague shape of a theme despite the rush-job--to get cheeky, it's a bunch of disparate parts that don't quite move in sync. A Bride of an idea that almost, but never quite does, manifest. Especially considering one or two lines that were cut which, it turns out, were integral to understanding that theme.

Let's go over it all, shall we?

Francesca's immediate appeal to Dan feels like a weird choice on the part of the filmmakers. It's asking us to care about a brand-new character without giving us much reason to do so, other than "she's a woman and she's available to the protagonist". This is a big ask in Part 2 of a franchise which, as we witnessed with the collapse of Part 3, relies entirely on the chemistry between the two already-established lead actors. The most boring parts of BRIDE are when Francesca's investigating the Sefton Ward, because neither of the dudes we're here to see are onscreen for a long time, and…

And, well, we'll have to have a big talk about Inherent Value and misogyny/queerphobia/transphobia in Re-Animator, but that'll be for Part 2.

So what's the deal with Francesca? Why is she even here? Is she just there to drive a wedge between Herbert and Dan?

Well, yes. But in addition to being an object kicked between the two leads as needed, she is also an object for the writers' thematic purposes. This purpose is revealed in what Dan says in the infamous scene where they have sex: "So soft... so warm..."

It's the warmth Dan craves, because that is associated with Life.

Francesca is Life. She's associated with food, the real substance of Life--which Herbert rejects. The script even specifies that Dan and Herbert's kitchen should look like it was never used... as though there's no life in it. Fran brings Life to it by preparing food in it. She's also associated with Angel, the dog, who generally senses--not Evil, per se, but the Dead. Angel reacts positively to Fran and to Dan. And Angel tries to attack every reanimate she meets--as well as Herbert.

Dan values and believes in Life. He is seduced by Herbert's quest because he wants to believe that reanimated beings are Alive. But let's be real, he doesn't believe reanimates are Alive. He agrees with Dr. Hill's assertion that reagent "gives the dead the appearance of life". He asserts that Halsey is dead post-reanimation, because, obviously, he doesn't see Halsey as Alive. Later, he perceives the Bride as being a collection of dead human body parts until She's reanimated. At that point, all the stress seems to convince him that she is Alive... until Herbert emphasizes that the Bride is his creation, a being glued together with reagent.

Who, therefore, cannot have Life.

Dan rejects the Bride because he wants Life, someone who is Alive. She's not. This is also why part of his rejection involves him declaring that Meg is dead. The thing that kept Dan on board with the Bride Project was imagining that he was bringing Meg back to Life. Stating that Meg is dead is acknowledging that reagent cannot create Life, so far as Dan's concerned.

Meg's heart is, to me, another symbol. Dan wants it to represent Life, but as the final shot emphasizes, it represents Death. It only had the appearance of Life so long as Dan believed in its validity as a source of Life. Notice that he says "You're not Meg!" in response to the Bride offering him Meg's heart, because it isn't the heart he wanted, only what it stood for. Once he stops clapping his hands and believing, the heart stops beating... and is left in the embalming room, with all the other Dead Things.

They cut several lines where Dan repeatedly referred to Gloria as "Meg". This gives Dan's desires specificity. Dan spends all of BRIDE wanting Meg to Live. That is his central trauma, the source of all his fuckery: he misses Meg and he wants her back. He almost fools himself into thinking she's alive again, then accepts that she's not.

The next best person to escape with, then, would be someone who is Alive.

This is what Francesca gives him.

In the script, Dan resuscitates Francesca successfully once they escape the tomb. He joyfully declares "You're alive!". THAT is what Dan wanted. Life. Someone soft and warm.

To Herbert, though, reanimated life IS Life. He perceives no magical or spiritual dimension to Life the way Dan's implied to (and the narrator of the original stories did). His inability to convince Dan to see things his way is a big part of his downfall in BRIDE, but it also points to a really brutal tragedy underlying the whole plot:

If we take the Integral Cut as canon, and it likely is, then Herbert isn't Alive by Dan's standards, and hasn't been this entire time.

He shoots up reagent. This is in stark contrast, by the way, with the original stories, where Lovecraft emphasized that reagent did nothing whatsoever to living tissue. This is--symbolically, again, I'm not making diagetic claims here--a not-so-subtle declaration that Herbert is Dead. Corpses and body parts get the reagent because they are not a part of Life. And since Herbert gets the reagent, well...

Anything that comes from Herbert cannot be Life. It can only be "the appearance of life". This is why the food Herbert makes looks fake and wrong and is described as "awkwardly made" in the script, unlike Francesca's perfect sauce... Food is Life. Herbert is Dead.

The script of BRIDE suggests that Herbert repeating Dan's "So soft, so warm" line is manipulation, but it sure doesn't come across that way--it comes across as abject begging for Dan to see some kind of value in the Bride Project, and thereby, in him. When the Bride tries to win Dan back over by repeating "You made me!", Herbert, sounding furious, snaps "I made you!". He thematically links himself with Her because she's the big project that will make Dan love only him the Work. He reinforces the theme that he is Dead, or Death.

The way that Herbert gigafucks himself is when he senses that Dan's about to reject the Bride (Death) in favor of Francesca (Life), and Herbert... accidentally confirms this dichotomy with "Forget it, Dan, she's just dead tissue!" That is exactly what Dan didn't want. Herbert objectifies the Bride--but not into just any object. She is turned into a disposable object, a thing they can throw away in a medical biohazard bin. Because she's Dead.

He's trying one last Hail Mary to win Dan back, but their fundamental disagreement on the very nature of Life and Death means Herbert can't even understand how to do it.

Relatedly, Herbert is heavily associated with Dead Places. He is introduced to Dan in the sonofabitchin' morgue and spends almost half his scenes in same. His personal room in Dan's house is Spartan, because Living people need luxury and personal items, and Herbert's... not. He spends most of the rest of his time in the basement--underground, like a grave, get it, hahaha. In BRIDE, we never see his bedroom. Instead, he spends most of his time in the basement/embalming room/secret laboratory which is also underground, and which is interconnected with a tomb in the graveyard. A tomb Herbert willingly tunnels into and accesses regularly, which is totally normal Living behavior and not that of a ghoul...

... and, in the end, he is dragged off into that tomb, and he does not escape. Because he belongs there.

He is Dead (which is why, by applying queer theory, we all think that he's queer and/or trans, about which more in Part 2). Herbert's hard and cold, not soft and warm. He has only the appearance of Life. Everything he creates is Dead.

In the script, when Francesca and Dan meet in Peru, they talk about the cruelty of war, and she says the following: "When the state makes people's lives unnatural, it creates monsters." This is called back when she finds out that Herbert's built Hand Dog out of Angel. She calls Dan a "freak", and accuses him of acting like he's saving people when he's "creating monsters". Because he is behaving like Herbert, he's a freak. A monster. Someone who thinks he's creating Life when he's actually reveling in Death.

Hell, the script describes the reanimate rejects that kill Herbert as "the fruit of his scientific womb", deliberately mocking Herbert's notions that he's creating Life, and also causing me physical pain as a trans dude.

The more I've gone over this theme (in the service of my long-ass fix-it fic), the more it feels like Dan and Herbert were always doomed by the original narrative thanks to this specific, fundamental difference between them. The only way they'd be able to get along long-term again after BRIDE is if one of them changed fundamentally as a person, and not only would neither of them do that, it'd make their dynamic less interesting and engaging to watch. (I mean, shit, I've had to introduce Lovecraftian Great Old Ones to help those two buttheads understand they have a common enemy.)

But yeah. Sorry to say it. Herbert's Dead. That's what made it so easy for Dan to abandon him. Herbert could cut out his own heart and replace it with Meg's. It would not have made any difference. There is nothing, nothing at all, he could have done, not once Dan realized that reagent cannot give Real Life--that it can't bring Meg back to him.

It was always going to end this way. With Herbert lost among the Dead. With Dan fleeing for Life and normalcy.

But that's what fandom's for, fixing all of that... right?

#reanimator #re animator 1985 #bride of re animator #bride of reanimator 1991 #herbert west #dan cain #danbert #fandom meta #i live for analysis #nothingenough speaks

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starwarsmum · 8 months ago

Text

I made a thing! Just a silly drabble.

Alfred's Appreciation Party

Summary:

Just a fun little supposed-to-be crack fic.

The bat boys decide Alfred deserves to know how much they appreciate him and are throwing a party. Fluff ensues when Damian contacts an internet famous baker that Alfred likes and convinces her to come and cater the desserts for the party.

Notes:

Hi! Welcome to my first Daminette fic, inspired by the song "Bread" by Anya Nami.

It started as something that was supposed to be light and funny and then spiraled into a whole 10k word fic. I'm not really sure what happened, I think I was possessed. Hope you enjoy it!

I'm not sure how in-character everyone is, but I think I stayed fairly true. Either way, aging up a little means they've had time for growth, so I think it's a reasonable progression.

Bold is messages, italicised bold is in French.

“Tt, I already know what I shall be procuring for Alfred, I do not need your input, Todd.”

The boys were crowded around the dining table, Alfred having gone food shopping half an hour prior and they were trying to coordinate gifts for Alfred's upcoming appreciation party. Jason had been needling Damian about his usual efforts in gift-giving, and he was determined to do better for Alfred.

“Oh yeah, demon spawn? You sound mighty cocky, what's your plan?”

“For your information, I am awaiting a response from Alfred's favourite online baker, whom I shall convince to come and make his gift.”

“Oooh, sounds fancy. What, did you message them yesterday or something?” Jason was mocking him and Damian bristled, a sneer working across his face.

“Do you really think I would leave it so last minute, Todd? I messaged her 3 weeks ago, and it is just as well as she is yet to respond.”

The silence in the room was nearly absolute, the only sound being Tim's fingers tapping away on his laptop. If Damian was a lesser man, he would have fidgeted.

“Why are you giving me that look, Grayson?” Damian ground out, trying to rein in his irritation. Dick was perhaps the only person other than Alfred that Damian would like to impress with his thoughtfulness and it appeared as though he was failing.

“Baby bird, if you messaged her 3 weeks ago and she hasn't responded yet, I don't think she's going to.”

“Tt, this is ridiculous, she is well known for her friendly manner. Why would she not respond to my request?”

“Well, what did you send her?” Damian tutted again before pulling up the direct messages on his phone and turning it to face the others. They peered down, Jason choking back a snort and Dick glancing over at him in pity. It read:

Hello. I request your presence at a family event, to bake one of your masterpieces for my pseudo-grandfather. A timely response is advisable as the event in question is taking place in 8 weeks. Regards.

“...baby bird, this sounds like a bot.” Dick sounded exasperated and Damian huffed, snatching his phone back.

“How would you suggest one goes about requesting services via message? She is clearly a professional and therefore I have messaged accordingly.”

“I dunno, Dames, but it wouldn't be like this! You write like a stuffy 80 year old!”

“Jesus, demon spawn, don't you ever do anything like a human?” Jason added, half jokingly. Damian glared at him, making the taller man's grin widen.

“I do not see any of you coming up with something better.” Damian was already outside of his comfort zone, messaging a complete stranger even if it was for a service.

“I mean, I guess it depends how old this baker is. I wouldn't message the same thing to a 40-something year old as I would someone my age.” Tim said, interjecting to try and bring them back on point without a fight brewing.

“Elaborate, Drake.”

“Well, someone my age would probably work well with a funny meme or something but a 40 year old? Probably a cutesie video, especially if it's coming from someone as young as you.”

“Very well, Drake. How old do you believe her to be, based on her posts?” He knew that Tim was best versed in business, being co-CEO, and trusted him (in this) to give him the best advice.

“I mean, she's pretty proficient at her craft and she writes pretty professionally, but she also shared that whole bread meme thing, so…late 20s? Purely as a guess. I'd need to do more research to get an exact age but if I search it on the batcomputer, there's a higher chance of Bruce seeing it and it getting back to Alfred.”

“Tt, very well, we shall have to go with your initial assessment of late 20s then. What do you suggest I do to get a response?”

“I mean, you already tried to message once which means you need to prove you're not a bot…so a video maybe?”

“Drake, that sounds-” Damian was cut off by Dick, who squealed and bounced up in his seat.

“Like the best idea ever! Oh my god, Tim, you said she shared that bread song, right? Lil D should do a video with that song in it! It'll show he's paying attention, and prove he's a real person!”

“That's a bit of a leap, Dick, but it'll show he's not a bot I guess.” Tim had returned to being engrossed in his work, not bothering to spare any more time on Damian's problems.

“Didn't the original video have the singer in some kind of bread costume doing a dance? Damian, you should definitely do the dance! And then we can help you craft the message to send with it!”

“Grayson, I do not think that a damning video of me doing what I am sure is a demeaning dance is a good ide-” Damian said, beginning to get frustrated with his favourite older brother, only to get cut off again.

“Come on baby bird, this is for Alfred! I know none of us can do a cake justice and you've already started a conversation with this woman. You don't want his big day to be a flop, do you?” Dick’s eyes were wide and he had a slight pout. Damian sighed internally.

“Tt, fine. Show me this cursed video and I shall endeavor to replicate the dance.”

“That's the spirit, Demon Spawn.”

_ _ _

Damian sat in his room, glaring at the video paused on his laptop screen. It was just as horrendous as he had assumed it would be. How could anyone find this amusing, let alone a professional baker?

He scrolled further down the page, looking for any alternative videos that she seemed to enjoy but most everything else was professionally made cakes, breads and desserts. He was about to give up when he came across a post she had shared about an animal shelter and commented that she would be attending and providing goods for the charity event. He smiled slightly, a plan beginning to formulate.

_ _ _

Marinette was working on her latest masterpiece, a suit for Jagged which had an English theme - she had run with it a little, adding little embroidered crowns and clock towers. A few of her friends were there, working on various homework pieces and revision for tests, but they were working in amicable silence.

She stretched when a chime sounded from her phone, allowing her concentration to move over to it as she had finished a particularly stubborn section. Rolling her shoulders, she saw that someone had messaged her through her baking channel. She had set it up on the American part of the site so that she could spread her expertise further than France and it had been well received. She opened the message, frowning as she recognised the chat name as one she had received a suspicious message from just shy of a month before.

*video file attached

Greetings again. I have yet to hear back from you regarding my request for your services at my pseudo-grandfathers party. It has been brought to my attention that you may have believed my message to be a ‘bot’, which is not the case. I have attached a video of myself, and two of my pets, to prove that I am serious about requesting your services. I am now 1 month away from the family event and need to know whether you would be willing to come and prepare the aforementioned baked good(s). I look forward to your timely response.

Marinette sighed and clicked onto the video, after making sure it wasn't sending her to a different site. She raised her eyebrows as a familiar song started up and a tall Arabic boy (man? She couldn't tell but she thought he might be just slightly older than her) began to sing along. He looked uncomfortable but determined, a very attractive look for Marinette and her jaw dropped as a black and white cat sat regally beside him, its tail seeming to swish in time to the music. And then a great dane joined on ‘thick and fried’ which made Marinette giggle.

“Dupain-Cheng, I thought we agreed that you were not allowed to play that ridiculous song any more?” Chloe groaned, dropping her head into her hands as everyone else laughed.

“This is not my fault, Chlo!” Marinette squeaked, flushing and pausing the video. “I can't help it if someone else sends me the song! I was just trying to be responsible and check my messages for the baking channel I run.”

“Wait, someone other than you likes that song?” Alya said, leaning over to take a look. “Is that English? Why are you getting messages in English? Like you're not famous enough in France, you're spreading to America? Damn girl!”

Marinette giggled and shushed her, biting her lip as she read over the message, then silenced the sound on her phone so she could watch the video again without annoying her friends. She contemplated the message and decided to write back immediately, getting carried away in her enthusiasm for his video.

Oh my God, that video is my new fave thing!

How did you get your dog and cat to do that??

Wait, wait, sorry, I'm supposed to be professional on this profile, dammit.

Let me start over.

Hi! You were correct in guessing that I thought you were a bot, sorry about that. I would love to offer my services to you, but I will need to know what it is you want so that I can plan accordingly.

Also, there's not much on your profile, so I can't work out where I would be coming to? That's also kind of important information, so I can plan around my other commitments.

Damian hadn't expected her to answer so quickly but was pleased that the video had done as intended. He pondered how to continue the conversation before responding.

Thank you for your responses. I am based in Gotham, New Jersey and the event is being held at a local hall. Such an important event would normally be held at the manor but Alfred would become too aware and that would spoil the surprise.

Rose squealed, reading the messages over her shoulder, before turning to tell the others that Marinette was being commissioned for cakes in America. Everyone else started chattering at this point, excitement building as Alix counted forward the dates from when Marinette had received the messages.

“That means you'd be over there just before the end of November. We don't have any big tests or anything planned for then, do we?”

“Hn,” Marinette confirmed, still slightly in shock. Her mind was racing and she was already flying through some websites to look for cheap flights, and whether she would be able to take the baked goods from home or if she'd need to be there early for set up and baking itself. She found reasonably priced flights and a hotel near the airport that she could use, but that meant more traveling on the actual day…

New Jersey USA? Uh, sure, I mean, I am based in Paris, France so it'll be a little harder to get there but I think I can get some cheap tickets. When exactly is this event?

*picture attached

Please find all the relevant details on this invitation. The distance is of no consequence, if you are amenable. I can provide transport to and from the event, as well as somewhere to rest.

Okay, that sounds fine. Is there any chance we can change from a text conversation to a phone, or video call?

That sounds agreeable, is now convenient?

Marinette excused herself from the room, running her fingers through her hair and making sure it wasn't standing up on end as it tended to when she got too deep into her creative groove. She wanted to make sure she looked appropriately professional as this was technically a client call, even if it had started with a silly video.

When she was slightly calmer, she settled herself onto the kitchen stool, with the laptop on the bar and clicked the video call icon. It rang twice before connecting to a much darker room, the sun just beginning its path into the sky. Marinette gave a little squeak as a pair of green eyes connected with hers and she felt herself flush lightly.

“Greetings, my name is Damian. You are…much younger looking than my brothers and I had assumed.” The Arabic boy began, brow furrowed in thought.

“Oh, uh, hi, I'm Marinette! And, um, thank you? I mean, I'm nearly 18 but people do think I'm much younger. It's the height usually, I think.” She fidgeted slightly, wondering if he was going to change his mind. If he had thought her older, perhaps he was uncomfortable with having a seventeen-year-old work on such a big event.

“I did not intend to make you uncomfortable, my brothers and I merely thought you were older based on your skills and manner of conduct. But if you are not yet 18, I am not sure whether we are able to conduct business.” Damian's brow was still furrowed and Marinette struggled to get a read on him. She wasn't always great at reading boys, especially ones she found attractive- no, bad Marinette, stay on topic.

“Oh, no, that's fine, my honorary uncle has been commissioning me for things since I was 14 and he's based in America. And my parents are bakers, so I think they'd rather I'd rep them internationally.” She was babbling, but all of her words were coming out in the right order at least. She thanked every kwami in existence that she had been taking English lessons from Felix since she decided to go international with her brands.

“Excellent, then the next thing we will need to discuss is the actual request. Alfred is very important to our family and so I would like something equally special for this occasion.”

They chatted for half an hour, discussing Alfred's favourite foods, drinks and hobbies. Marinette gathered that whilst he wasn't a blood relation, he was important to Damian and that meant she needed to get this right if she wanted to impress him. Not that she wanted to impress Damian for any reason other than professionally!

When the call finally ended, Marinette promised to send him an email with her final designs for the desserts as well as an estimate on price. Once those were all finalised she would send him a list of ingredients she would need on the day. He in return would make sure her flights and accommodation were arranged and send her all the details for those.

As Marinette turned back towards her loft room, she saw the trap door snap shut and heard giggling. She groaned before going to face her friends. She glared at Alya and Rose, the two most likely to have been spying on her conversation with Damian and only got smirks back.

“So, he was cute,” Rose began, squealing when Marinette blushed. “I knew you thought so too! And his voice sounded so…” she sighed and waved her hands gently.

“Rose, he's a client,” began Marinette, turning resolutely back to her work station. She only had a few finishing touches to add to Jagged's suit, so she wanted to push through and finish it so she could turn all of her attention onto Damian's request. “Regardless of his voice, politeness or eyes, I am going to be professional and work on his commission without making a fool of myself, I hope.”

“His eyes, huh girl?” Alya interjected smugly, making Marinette flush again. “Let me guess, if you were distracted by his eyes, they must've been green, and he was super sunshine-y? You so have a type.”

“For your information, he was perfectly polite and not sunshine-y at all. So clearly I don't have a type-”

“Oh, so you are interested in him?” Alix piped up, glancing up from her maths homework. Seeing Marinette turn an evening deeper shade of red she chuckled before turning back to her work. “Whatever, I'm not interested in forcing you to admit it.”

Marinette grinned at her gratefully before turning the topic forcefully onto the coming week's events at school. There were a few more good-natured jokes but they all knew that Marinette did things in her own time. Even though she and Adrien hadn't worked out, she had managed to start dating him eventually and they had remained amicable even after the break-up.

_ _ _

“So, baby bird, did you get a response from the bakery woman? We've managed to book the entertainment, the rest of the catering, all the invitations are back so it's just the cake! We just need to know if we need to arrange an alternative.”

Dick had come to Damian's room and they were sitting on his bed whilst Damian groomed Titus. Damian had been chatting with Marinette regularly for the past 3 weeks and felt confident that come the following week, Alfred would be both surprised and pleased with his gift.

“Tt, that will be unnecessary, Grayson. She responded and I have arranged for her to come the day before and for her to have access to an adequate cooking space.” Damian gave Titus a final brush before ordering him to lie down. He turned back to Dick and pulled his phone towards himself. He could see the light indication showing that he had a new message, which he was sure would be from Marinette.

“Wow, seriously? Way to go lil D! Is she aware of the amount she'll need to bake? We, uh, kind of went overboard on the invites.”

“I have made all necessary arrangements, Grayson, I do not appreciate your lack of confidence,” he snapped back, a slight sneer curling his lips. His look softened however as he opened his chat to see the final designs of Alfred's desserts. He turned the phone so Dick could see them, huffing. “Do you see? Marinette has adequately captured the theme for the event and I have no doubt that she will be able to perform exceedingly well on the day. Was there anything else you required?”

_ _ _

Back in Marinette’s room, she was chatting on the phone, holding up the suit she had created so that it could be seen in all of its glory.

“Yes, uncle Jagged, I have your latest commission ready to go! I didn't realize you had another concert already, are you going on tour?”

“Rock n roll M! It looks awesome, better than I could've hoped. And nah, it's not really a concert, an old family friend is throwing a party for his butler and I grew up around him so I offered to rock the house for them.” Jagged gave her a thumbs up through the screen and played a riff on an imaginary guitar.

“He's throwing a party for his butler?” Marinette blinked several times, shooting him an incredulous look. She knew Jagged was eccentric but it sounded like his family friend was equally, I'd not more, so. She tried to imagine Chloe, even after she had made vast improvements to her personality, doing anything remotely nice for her butler and drew a blank.

“Well, he's more of a father for him since his own mom and pops passed away. Old Alfie P has been with the family forever and the kids decided he'd earned a little party. So I'm headed back to Gotham next week to rock out.” Marinette was nodding along to this until she did a double take.

“Wait, Gotham? You don't mean Alfred's appreciation party, do you?” No way, there was no way that Jagged was talking about Damian's party. She knew it wasn't his actual grandfather but he had spoken about the man with such warmth and affection that Marinette had assumed it was an old family friend that had been around enough that he was basically family. Like Jagged now was for Marinette.

“M, how the heck do you know about a party halfway round the world?” Jagged was laughing again, although he looked incredulous.

“Jagged, I'm making the party cake! I got a request from Damian ages ago, he's flying me over and putting me up for a couple of days so I can sort it out.” Flabbergasted, Marinette immediately started thinking about how she could avoid people making the MDC connection if Jagged was at the party too. She had no idea how popular he was in the states and didn't want to be outed before she turned 18.

“Well hell kid, small world I guess! Rock n roll, if you're gonna be there it'll be the party of the century!”

_ _ _

The flight had been long and Marinette struggled to sleep thanks to an older man snoring loudly only 2 seats from her. She was sorely regretting insisting that Damian only pay for standard seats instead of business but she hadn't wanted to take advantage. As the plane landed, she rushed to get her belongings and get out of there, hoping she wouldn't be too delayed by customs.

As she wheeled her carry-on suitcase through the arrivals area, Marinette could see the tall, dark and broody Arabic boy standing primly to the side. He held no sign but was wearing the agreed upon colours so she would be able to spot him easily. She felt her heartbeat pick up as he spotted her and clipped a nod in her direction and she let a smile spread across her face.

“Hi Damian, thanks for picking me up, this airport is bigger than I expected! And you are way taller than I thought you'd be.”

“Tt, I imagine you think that of many people. You are much more petite than I had assumed as well.”

“Wow, rude! I'm just compact,” Marinette laughed, before taking his proffered elbow delicately with her hand. She felt how tense he was

“Apologies, I merely-”

“I'm kidding, Damian, I know I'm short. But you're still way hotte- taller, way taller than I thought you'd be.” She blushed at her slip, looking away, missing the slight pink tinge making its way across his own features, though she did feel how he relaxed and allowed herself a moment of relief.

“Ahem, yes, well, we should make our way to the car, my acquaintance is likely growing bored.” He had taken hold of her suitcase and wheeled it along. She beamed at him again, embarrassment pushed aside by the news of meeting one of his friends.

“Oh, sure, let's go! Do I get a name for this ‘acquaintance’ of yours, or do I have to guess?” she said teasingly, watching as he rolled his eyes but allowed his mouth to upturn slightly.

“Tt, Kent is of no importance, you need not concern yourself with acquainting yourself with him. You will likely have to interact with many imbeciles in the next 24 hours, there is little point in beginning your torment early.”

“Kent, huh?”

_ _ _

“Hi there! So you're the mysterious baker from France that Dames has been chatting with. Did you have a good flight?” Another tall, dark-haired boy was leaning against the car, although he was much more smiley than Damian. Marinette smiled up at him and extracted her hand from Damian's elbow to offer it for a handshake

“And you must be Damian's acquaintance, Kent! The flight was okay, just very long. I'm very relieved to be back on the ground for the next 24 hours.” The boy’s grin widened and he took her fingers in a light grip. He shot a hurt look at Damian, although I was tempered with exasperation.

“Acquaintance? Damian, buddy, that hurts.”

“Tt, your feelings are of no consequence to me, Kent. If it were not for the fact that Alfred cannot know of this collection, I would not have involved you.” Damian had looked away and Marinette stifled a giggle. She was trying very hard not to find him overwhelmingly attractive but it was cute when he squabbled with his friend.

“Wow, just wow. I'm gonna tell Dick that you were mean to me again, and in front of company as well!” Damian opened his mouth to say something scathing but Marinette felt it was time to get them back on track.

“Sorry to interrupt, but it really has been a long day for me, any chance we can wrap this up and head on over to my uncle's place? I already messaged him to say I'd landed.”

“Of course, allow me to take your luggage and settle yourself into the car, please.” Damian immediately opened the trunk and slid her suitcase in. He then held open the back door for her before gently closing it. Jon was shooting him a raised eyebrow over the top of the car but he chose to ignore it, settling himself into the front passenger seat.

But in spite of this, he couldn't help the red tinge to his neck and ears that crept slowly and stayed for the duration of the drive.

_ _ _

Marinette had spent most of the morning prepping in the kitchen of the party hall. She had known there were going to be quite a few guests but the size of the hall had still shocked her. But once she was in the groove of baking, she had forgotten about what she was baking for.

So when Jagged and Penny showed up, early so that he could put on the suit she had made and set up, she was once again blown away by the grandeur, as well as by the decorations which had appeared in the interim.

“Wow, this is a gorgeous set up! And that backdrop is exactly Jagged’s style! Penny, did you see the backdrop?”

“Yes, Marinette, I saw. The tables for the cakes are through here.” Penny was smiling indulgently, much as she did when Jagged was getting overexcited, as she steered the younger woman towards a group of ridiculously attractive men. They all had dark hair, although their ages seemed to range slightly, and Marinette was relieved to see Damian standing with them.

“Oh my God, lil D, is this her? The baker? She's so adorable! And tiny!” The oldest looking one positively bounced towards her, holding out a hand that she accepted gracefully.

“Hi, I'm Marinette and this is Penny. Are you another of the hosts for this evening?”

“Eep! Too cute! I think I'm gonna combust.” Dick felt like a tensed up coil, practically vibrating with enthusiasm as Damian maneuvered himself beside the tiny French girl and glared at him.

“Tt, Grayson, calm yourself. Yes, Marinette is the baker and Penny is her aunt. We still need to set up so if you are capable, you can carry some of the boxes through from the car.” He continued to glare at Dick, although it only seemed to make his grin wider, before Marinette interjected.

“Thanks Damian, but we can do it ourselves. I'm sure he has plenty of other things to be getting on with.” Marinette beamed up at Damian and he relented, huffing. Dick's smile only grew until he was beaming too, watching as his baby brother took hold of the girl’s shoulders and began steering her away from them all.

“Tt, then he should be getting on with them, whilst we finish preparing your uncle’s set.” Jason and Tim eyeballed Damian as well, although they were still fairly engrossed in their heated debate over which of Jagged's songs he would be playing that night.

_ _ _

“Rock n roll, M! Those cakes look incredible, and the macarons are perfect. And the suit fits perfectly, just like always!” Jagged hung himself over Marinette's small frame for a moment before removing himself and draping an arm over Penny's shoulder.

“Jagged, please, you're embarrassing me!” She flushed, burying her face in her hands as Jagged chortled and Penny smiled. She was smiling though, she knew the cakes looked incredible, macarons arranged by colour to make a picture of Alfred’s face, a cake in the shape of Buckingham Palace, which Marinette had been reliably informed was where he had worked in his youth and an assortment of sweet and savoury scones.

“Nonsense, Rockette, you should be proud of what you've done! Penny, isn't Marinette just too shy of how good she does?” Jagged ruffled a hand through Marinette's hair, making her squawk and flap his hand away.

“You really are, Marinette, Jagged wouldn't have such an iconic look if not for you.” Penny chided, pulling Jagged's hand away herself as they were approached by Dick and Jason.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! You're Jagged Stone! Like, really, actually Jagged Stone! Jason, did you see who's here?” Dick was flapping again, bouncing up onto his toes and gesturing wildly.

“Shi-”

“Language Jay-bird! There are cute little ears around,” he said, gesturing to Marinette, who pouted adorably.

“Believe me, I've both heard and said worse. There's a reason people say ‘excuse my French', Grayson,” she snarked back, folding her arms across her chest.

“Oh, please, call me Dick, Grayson is just what lil D calls me. My name's Dick Grayson,” he said, ignoring her attitude.

“Wait, does the little French chick know Demon Spawn? How? Isn't she way too sweet to be anywhere near him?” Jason eyeballed her, taking in her messy hair, jeans and apron.

“Marinette here is the dessert caterer for the evening! And she makes it possible for me to be on stage, like, ever,” Jagged said, nodding sagely. He was beaming with pride.

“Oh, does she provide you with snacks or something? You must be older than you look, those cakes are perfect,” Jason said, complimenting her whilst also fishing for information.

“Hmmm? Oh, yeah, little M’s in her last year of high school, loads of people think she's in her first though. But my niece is killing it, especially since old hawky got caught.”

“Jagged, don't you need to set up? Maybe do a practice song?” Marinette started prodding him towards the stage, trying to get them off of the embarrassing topic. “Sorry about him, he tends to get a bit dramatic,” she said, rolling her eyes as he finally sauntered away.

“You know he only does it because you sell yourself short, Marinette.”

“Penny.”

“What? You know, you'll be 18 soon, you'll need to come out with your brand if you want to make it more global. Commission-only might not work so well.”

“Wait, I'm confused, won't you just open a bakery when you graduate?” Dick looked confused, his gaze bouncing between the two.

“Bakery? No, Marinette’s a fashion designer. Baking is what her parents do, which is why she's so good at it. Her parents would need to disown her if she hadn't started learning as soon as she could walk,” Penny said, laughing at the mix-up.

“Oh, really? What sort of things do you design?” So sue him, Jason was increasingly curious about the kid.

“Well, everything I wear tends to be my own design and I make accessories too.” Marinette looked away, hedging around the conversation guiltily.

“Marinette, you're still selling yourself short! What she's not saying is that Jagged wears her brand exclusively on stage. Honestly, I think he'll be wearing her brand until he retires.” Penny's eyes gleamed as Jason's jaw dropped and he whirled to face Marinette fully.

“Wait. Wait wait wait. Wait. Are you telling me that you, small sunshine child, baker extraordinaire and that has been chatting with Demon Spawn, are MDC?!” he shouted, making several heads turn their way before continuing with party prep.

“I mean, my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng, so it's literally my initials,” Marinette shrugged, cringing slightly. “I plan on going bigger with my brand once I'm out of school though.”

“Then why on earth are you here as a baker? Oh man, Timmy's gonna freak, he's been searching for MDC’s identity for literal years.”

“I mean, I have socials, why didn't he message me?” Marinette asked, bewildered. Whilst she wouldn't have shared her identity with an internet stranger, she would have been fine to take on a commission.

“Tt, because Drake is a caffeine addict who doesn't use his intelligence appropriately. I assume he only attempted to find your data instead of opening a dialogue.” Damian appeared at Marinette's shoulder, gently touching her elbow to get her attention. “I assume you would like to change before the event begins, Marinette? It will not be long before the guests begin to arrive.”

Marinette startled when she saw the time, cursing under her breath in French which made Dick and Jason raise their eyebrows, and Penny to laugh. Excusing herself, she started to pull the rest of her bun loose as she walked away, hastily untying her apron as she disappeared through another door.

_ _ _

The party was in full swing, Alfred having been suitably surprised and bashfully appreciative of their efforts. He had personally thanked all of the boys under his care - all of them, Bruce included, would always be boys to him - and mingled with old friends and family acquaintances alike.

Damian didn't smile at the result, but he did feel a deep-seated sense of satisfaction. He had already heard Alfred commenting that the dessert looked wonderful, and he was looking forward to telling his pseudo-grandfather that he had arranged for his favourite online baker to make them personally.

He spied Marinette near the stage where Jagged was crooning an old song, apparently from his earlier work. She looked beautiful, wearing a red dress that ended just above the knee, her black shoes comfortable but not visibly well-worn. She had redone her hair into an intricate bun, leaving her shoulders and neck bare. He flushed lightly as he caught himself following the lines of her neck, up to her sparkling smile.

He decided to make his way over to her, noting that she was chatting with Kent again. He was unreasonably pleased that she seemed to be getting along with his friend, although he hoped that they weren't getting along too well. “Marinette?”

“Hm? Yes, Damian?” She turned her smile towards him and he blinked as his heart stuttered. Jon gave him a curious look but he ignored him.

“I would like to introduce you to Alfred, as the main reason I sought you out is because he is a fan of yours. Would this be acceptable?” He offered his arm once more, trying not to preen when she took it without hesitation.

“Sure thing, Damian! Jon was just telling me about some of your pets, but I'm sure we can pick back up on that later?” She smiled back at Jon, flushing happily at how well her evening was going. She had mostly outgrown her awkward teenage phase so whilst taking hold of Damian's arm made her heart thrum pleasantly, she wasn't a stuttering mess.

“Tt, if you wish to know about my animals, I shall be more than happy to introduce you after this event,” Damian said, unreasonably pleased once again that she had been talking about him.

“Really? Awesome! Then I guess I'll see you around Jon, thank you for keeping me company.” She allowed him to pull her away, giving a small wave to a grinning Jon as she went. She leaned in to Damian conspiratorially and whispered, “So, how do I look? I don't want to meet your pseudo-grandfather looking messy.”

“Alfred will not comment on your appearance, regardless, but…you look…well put together.” He flushed slightly as his gaze flicked down and over her, making her skin buzz. She bit the inside of her cheek and refrained from squealing at the almost compliment. She had spent enough time chatting with him over the phone to know that true compliments were rare and he very much understated things.

“Oh, uh, thank you. You look well put together too,” she said, pulling slightly away without letting go of his arm. They were approaching Alfred, whom she recognised from the picture Damian had sent her in preparation for the macaron art.

“Tt. Marinette, this is Alfred. Alfred, this is Marinette, she is responsible for the desserts this evening. You may know her better by her online handle 'dc.boulangerie’.” Damian was a little stiff, feeling self-conscious even though he was only introducing her as the evening's dessert chef. It felt more momentous than it should and Damian felt an unusual amount of pressure building up inside of him. He wanted Alfred to like Marinette, and he had wanted to be the one to introduce her, whatever that meant for him.

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Marinette. I have been a long time admirer of your baking. I would enjoy having a conversation with you at a more appropriate time and venue.” Damian let out a breath as Alfred inclined his head towards her respectfully and he felt himself relax.

“Well, Damian invited me to meet his pets, assuming you all live together, I'm sure we can find time to chat,” Marinette said, squeezing Damian's elbow gently as she leaned towards him. The conversation continued lightly and Marinette allowed herself to reciprocate Damian's dry humour, startling a chuckle from Alfred and a warm eye roll from Damian.

_ _ _

A short distance away, Jason, Tim and Dick were watching the pair with interest. Jason commented on it as Bruce joined them. “So…we all see Demon Spawn flirting with the French Pixie, right?”

"It's so adorable! And did you see him blush? I wish I'd caught it on camera.” Dick was watching them with a sappy grin on his face, squealing as Damian leaned down and murmured something in the girl's ear.

“Are we sure we weren't all dosed with something? Cos this is freaky. Either that or the world's ending,” Jason said, eyeing them more warily than any of the others. He grunted a hello as the Kent family came to join them.

“Well, you might be able to get something on camera next time Dick - he invited her to meet the other Alfred as well,” Jon said, not bothering with any preamble. He was both smug and floored that his best friend was showing interest in a girl - especially one as cute and friendly as Marinette.

“No way, he set up a second date? That's so smooth! Bruce, have you been teaching him how to talk to girls?” Dick was practically vibrating at this point, beaming at Bruce now.

“Dick, I wasn't even aware he was inviting Miss Dupain-Cheng this evening. Do you mean to tell me nobody here has been giving him pointers?” As everyone either shook their heads or gave a sound of derision (Jason), Bruce hummed thoughtfully. “Well, perhaps he's better socialised than we give him credit for.”

“No, that can't be it, he threatened a girl at school just last week for getting too close to his locker. It must just be Marinette, she's a total sunshine bomb on him.” Jon was cocking his head slightly as he very obviously (to them) eavesdropped on Damian’s conversation.

“Well, I think I’ll go and introduce myself and see it firsthand,” Bruce said, clapping a hand on Clark's shoulder in a friendly manner.

“I'll come with you, Bruce, Jason said something about her having an in with my favourite designer,” Tim said, as enthusiastically as he could manage with how tired he clearly was, before they made their way over to the pair in question. Marinette was speaking animatedly, clearly in the middle of a very entertaining story as Alfred had a small smile.

“...and that's when everything went downhill! I mean, who thought it was a good idea to put those colours, with that fabric?” Those around Marinette laughed out loud, even Damian giving a short bark. Tim and Bruce watched as Marinette smiled up at him, clearly delighted that she had produced that sound from him.

“Alfred, are you having a good evening?” Bruce and Tim had finally reached the small group, making their way to Alfred first and foremost. The older gentleman inclined his head to both of them individually as Damian leaned down once again to murmur something in Marinette's ear.

“Good evening, Master Bruce. It has been splendid, I must confess that I had not expected such a grand event for me.” Alfred was also eyeing Marinette and Damian, who had seemed lost in their own little world for the moment, although Damian proved he was listening when he rolled his eyes and responded.

“Tt, Alfred, that was the point of the evening. If you had expected it-”

“What Damian means is, you're welcome Monsieur Alfred. Honestly, Damian, can't you hear a compliment for what it is?” Marinette chided him, making him grimace in good humour. At some point during her story, she had let go of his elbow to gesture and his hand had found its way to her opposite hip and he gave her a gentle squeeze.

“...I am glad you are having a good evening, Alfred. Father, Drake, this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She is responsible for the dessert catering this evening.”

“I'm Tim, and you must be the person with the connection to MDC! You're wearing an original of theirs this evening, aren't you?” Tim barrelled into the conversation intent on only one thing, making a pained expression cross Bruce's face.

“Ah, yes, Jason mentioned that you've been trying to track down Jagged’s personal designer for a while. What is it you want from her?” Marinette sounded politely bemused and Damian had to cough to cover a snort that tried to escape him.

“So you do know them! Oh my god, I can't believe I might know who they are soon! Okay, so, I've been hoping to commission a piece for the next Wayne gala.” Where he had seemed half asleep before now, Tim was wide awake and buzzing with anticipation.

“Oh, is that a big event?” Marinette asked, frowning slightly when they all turned to look at her in astonishment. She raised an eyebrow delicately at Tim, waiting for him to elaborate.

“Do…do you not know who the Waynes are?” Tim sounded dumbfounded and he was looking at Damian, who was looking uncomfortable suddenly, rather than Marinette. She glanced at Damian before responding.

“I mean, I live in Paris? I'm guessing they're American celebrities. And if they aren't a big name in fashion, I'm not really interested in celebrity gossip. I take it they're a big deal over here?”

“I'm surprised Damian hasn't mentioned them, at least once, given how vain he can be,” Bruce said drily, causing his only blood son to glare at him.

“Tt, that's enough, father. If I had thought it relevant or worth mentioning, I would have. Marinette, you said you wished to continue your conversation with Kent earlier, is that still something you desire?”

“Sure, it's been a pleasure to meet you, Alfred and I'll look forward to chatting with you tomorrow! If your kitchen is big enough, maybe we can do some baking together?”

“Our kitchen is of an adequate size and appropriately stocked. I shall look forward to it.”

Marinette gives a goodbye to Bruce and Tim before placing her hand back into the crook of Damian's arm and strolling away with him.

“Well, that was interesting. How did Damian get in touch with Miss Dupain-Cheng? She doesn't seem like someone he would normally spend time with.” Bruce was slightly blown away with the interaction: since when had Damian been willing to get to know other people?

“I mean, actually, he spends most of his time with Jon, and she seems a lot like a smaller version of him.”

“Yes, but he still complains about spending time with Jon, even if he doesn't mean it, whereas that? He was polite, let her touch him and chose to walk with her instead of dismissing her to get her away from us. And, apparently, he didn't tell her his last name. I would just like to know how he came to be acquainted with her.”

“Oh no!” At Tim's sudden outburst Alfred moved towards him, alarmed.

“What's wrong, Master Tim?”

“She didn't tell me how she knows MDC!”

_ _ _

Across the room, Jon glanced over at the trio before turning back to Marinette and Damian. “So anyway, Marinette, Damian never told me how you two met!”

“It isn't a very interesting story, I'm afraid,” Marinette said ruefully. “He messaged me on my baking socials, and then we did a couple of calls. Et, c’est l’histoire.”

“So Damian successfully navigated an online message? Well enough to get you to fly over from France for a single event?” Jon was amazed, Damian didn't really use social media, and he certainly didn't message strangers on the internet.

“Oh, no, he most definitely did not! I read his first message, he sounded like a bot and she ignored him.” Dick sounded gleeful as he pushed himself into the conversation. “So we told him he should send a follow up with a video to prove he wasn't a bot.”

“Mon dieu, so you're the reason for the video! I thought it was out of character for him after speaking with him for a while. I must thank you Dick, that video was the highlight of my year.” Marinette looked delighted and bounced onto the balls of her feet as she shook Damian's arm.

“Wait, you actually did the video?! How come I never got to see it, lil D?” Dick looked offended, pouting at Damian. Jon laughed aloud, quickly covering his mouth to stifle it.

“Tt, because I only chose to embarrass myself for Alfred, not for your amusement. Marinette, I forbid you to share it with these cretins, or I shall be forced to rescind my invitation to the manor tomorrow.” Damian sounded annoyed but his neck and ears were red again, making Marinette giggle as she patted his arm.

“Alright, Damian, I won't share the video with your brothers this evening. I want to meet Titus and Alfred junior far too much to risk making you my enemy.” Damian allowed his mouth to turn up at one corner before he fixed his face back to neutral.

“Excellent. Which reminds me, we should arrange a suitable time for me to collect you tomorrow.” He had leaned back down to her, making it more intimate and she flushed again, although she managed to keep the conversation going.

“I can make my own way to you if you give me the address! It doesn't make sense for you to come and collect me if we are only going to return to your home.” She whisper argued back to him, her head leaning back so she could glare playfully into his face. It was entertaining, if a little bewildering. More bewildering was when Marinette was knocked slightly sideways by a purple haired man.

“Little M! My mate Brucie invited us to lunch tomorrow at his house, you're not flying back til the next morning, are you Rockette?”

“Jagged! Tu m’as fait peur! Oui, I am not flying until the day after tomorrow but Damian has already invited me to spend the day with him. You will have to go with Penny I'm afraid.” Marinette was holding her hand over her chest whilst Damian had a hand hovering nearby to her. Whilst she calmed down, Jagged threw himself back over her shoulders with a slight whine.

“Aw, c’mon Marinette, it's not every day you get to spend the day with Bruce Wayne! He's got connections which could help boost your brand, way better than I ever could. I know you do more than just my style so I can't be the only one repping you around here.”

“Mon dieu, alright, Damian, would it be alright to visit with you in the evening? We could have dinner together. I will just have to check with Monsieur Alfred in regards to his schedule.” Marinette turned towards him apologetically only to see a pained expression crossing his face again.

“Wait a second, Dames, does Marinette not know your full name?” Dick sounded delighted again, throwing his arm around Damian’s shoulders. Damian huffed angrily and jabbed Dick in the ribs to make him get off.

“Jesus, Demon Spawn, did you forget to introduce yourself to her? Normally it's the first thing you say. Or, well, the only thing you say.” Jason had a smarmy grin and he stayed just outside of stabbing reach, which Damian found irritating.

“It was not relevant, Todd,” Damian bit out, his jaw tight. Marinette looked at him concerned for a moment before the confusion on her face cleared up.

“Ah, I see why Tim was confused as well now. I take it you are a Wayne, Damian? I understand, many celebrities choose not to use their last names before getting to know someone.” Marinette shrugged delicately and took hold of Damian's hand.

“Rockette, are you telling me you flew halfway around the world to a party without knowing who you were with? Hardcore.” Jagged looked impressed which made Jason snort, breaking the tension again.

“It would hardly be the first time, Jagged. Marinette told me the story of when she first met Adrien, she-” Marinette squawked and flapped her free hand at Penny to quiet her.

“Merde, yes, thank you, Penny! I very much doubt everyone here needs to hear every embarrassing thing I have done. I have already explained to Damian that I don't follow American celebrities. The Waynes are not in fashion, yes?” She peered up at Damian with a grimace.

“Well, no, but they do have a hand in almost everything else. You're friends with Max, how do you not know Wayne Enterprises?” Marinette groaned at Penny, bringing her hand back to her face. She stood like that for a moment until she whined again, turning to bury her face into Damian's arm.

“Wait, so Bruce Wayne is from Wayne Enterprises? That's why Felix was laughing so much when I told him about the party! Oh, I will never live this down!”

That made everyone laugh and Marinette glared around at them all. She was muttering obscenities under her breath again, as she ran her hand through her fringe. She blushed as Damian squeezed her hand, before fucking it back into the crook of his elbow. Jason nudged Dick, motioning his head towards the pair which would normally make Damian glared at them, but it seemed as though he was too occupied.

_ _ _

Marinette nervously straightened out her shirt, checking her hair. She had 5 minutes before Damian arrived and she had been ready for at least 20 minutes already. He had told her to dress in her jeans today so she had paired it with a long sleeved green peasant blouse that she had made after the first time she video chatted with Damian. The fabric reminded her of his eyes, not that she admitted it to anyone.

When Damian arrived on a motorcycle, Marinette felt her face burst into flames. She had known he was attractive before - it was impossible not to know, he was over 6 feet of muscle - but his long legs flicking over the back of the bike before he sauntered over to her? That reverted her back to a stuttering mess, and she felt 14 years old all over again, instead of the confident, capable 17 year old she had been around him so far.

She remained unable to say a complete sentence to him, even as he handed her a spare helmet and helped her into a jacket. Then she sat behind him, holding tightly and feeling his chest moving with every breath. He wove through traffic expertly and she felt safe leaned against him, his warmth seeping into her on the chilly November morning. It was lucky it was dry, the air crisp and whipped against her clothes.

They pulled up to Wayne manor and Marinette temporarily forgot about how gorgeous Damian looked in the face of the enormous mansion. She swore softly, eyes wide as they removed their helmets.

“Mon dieu, I thought manor meant, like, gah, un maison? But this? C'est un château! Damian, mon cher, how do you find anything!?” The endearment slipped out of her but she was too amazed by the manor to notice.

“Tt, it is not as grand as you are making it. It has been in the family for many years, although it was rebuilt after the earthquake. But if you are uncomfortable, we can forgo lunch with my family and find somewhere quieter-” Damian was almost rambling, she thought, as well as slyly trying to get out of the family meal. His cheeks were dusted in pink at her slip and he found he did not want to share her time with the rest of his family.

“Of course not, Uncle Jagged would not forgive me if I failed to attend. Penny would be disappointed too, and I cannot stand when she is disappointed. Besides, if I want to spend more time with you, I shall just have to adjust. And…I am sure I would like to spend more time with you.” Marinette’s own cheeks reddened as she said this, stealing a glance to see the flush spreading up Damian's neck.

“I would like to spend more time with you also,” Damian said softly, offering his hand which she took gratefully. “Alfred has asked that we visit with him first, and then after lunch I shall take you to meet Alfred the cat, Titus and perhaps we shall take a walk so you can meet my turkey and my cow.”

“Will you be staying with me whilst I cook with Alfred? I would hate to have to try and find you in this giant house.” She tugged on his hand gently until he began leading her inside. Despite Damian's insistence that the manor was not as big as she was proclaiming, Marinette was awestruck by the gothic interior designs and knew that once she had her sketchbook available, she would be designing many new items. Perhaps she would talk to Jagged about a more gothic theme for his next show, or maybe she would make something for Juleka…

Time passed quickly in the kitchen with Alfred, friendly chatter and expert advice both given and received. Damian. Sat quietly to the side, sketching in his own workbook and adding his thoughts every now and again. Marinette couldn't forget that he was there but she did feel a fresh blush steal over her every time she looked towards him. Luckily, Alfred said nothing about it, perhaps not wanting to embarrass the young woman and man.

Eventually, everything was cooking, so Damian set aside his book and fully joined their conversation, starting a friendly debate about the merits of vegetarianism. The time passed even more quickly when Alfred announced that they should take their seats in the dining room as both Jagged and Penny should be arriving soon and the others would then make their way for lunch too.

As it turned out, Jagged had arrived about an hour before this and had been chatting with Bruce and the other boys as they were huge fans. He took the admiration on the chin, chatting amiably with them until Tim woke up enough to remember that he still didn't know who MDC was.

“What're you talking about mate, you met MDC last night!” Jagged exclaimed, slightly bemused when Tim went bug eyed. “Little Rockette is my one and only designer, Timmy. She has a wicked sense of style, she even made my suit last night.”

“Wait, Damian's new girlfriend is my favourite designer?! How has he hidden this from me?” Tim wailed, turning to the door as Damian and Marinette stepped through it. “How long have you known? Why wouldn't you tell me?”

“Tt, first of all, Drake, I was not aware that she did fashion until last night. Secondly, Marinette pointed out to me yesterday that I contacted her with relative ease and she has social accounts as MDC. Therefore, you should have contacted her yourself. Do not hold others to blame for something you brought upon yourself.”

There was silence for several minutes while Tim stared slack jawed at Damian. And then Penny stage whispered to Marinette, “I see why you like him, Mari. Do I need to have a talk with him?”

“Penny,” Marinette hissed, swatting her whilst everyone else laughed. “Oh, sure, laugh it up, everybody laughs at Marinette.” She pouted and crossed her arms, which made Damian glare at them, which only made them laugh harder.

_ _ _

After lunch, Damian led Marinette around the manor grounds, Titus on his leash, so that Marinette could meet Jerry the turkey and Batcow the…cow. She had giggled adorably when Dick had mentioned the name of the cow and promised that she didn't think less of him for naming his pet after a hero.

“Tt, Batman is a vigilante, not a hero. And if there had not been a batsymbol on her side, it would never have occurred to me to name her Batcow,” he said, grumbling. She giggled again, walking on the other side of Titus. Damian would never admit to it, but he wished he had offered her the leash so that he could walk next to her.

After the visit to his other pets, Damian led her back to the manor, releasing Titus from his leash and ordering him back to his room. Marinette cooed over him for another minute before reluctantly letting him leave. They chatted comfortably about different pets they wanted, which led into their future plans.

Whilst Damian didn't want the day to end, he reluctantly took her back to her hotel, with the promise to pick her up in the morning as her ride to the airport. As he walked her to the door of the hotel, Marinette screwed up her courage and pulled him down for a kiss on the cheek. Blushing furiously, she stammered a goodbye before rushing into the hotel.

Damian stood dumbfounded for more than a few seconds before shaking it off and climbing onto his bike with a small smile on his face.

_ _ _

“Thanks for everything, Damian. I wish I didn't have to head home so soon but what with lycée, I can't afford to stay any longer. But we can stay in touch, right?”

They were standing before the departure gates in the airport, Damian holding the handle of her suitcase whilst Marinette fiddled with her handbag strap. Her courage from the night before had fled in the morning light. As he handed over her suitcase, reluctantly, he grasped her hand tightly. He smiled as a blush worked across her face.

“Of course, Marinette, I shall await your message to say you have landed safely. I am certain we can find time to meet again before Christmas. Father has been saying that I should travel more to learn about his business and there is a Wayne Enterprises branch in Paris…”

“Then a bientôt, mon cher, I will let you know once the plane lands and when I get home.” Marinette felt emboldened with her hand in his and placed her other on his cheek. She brushed a kiss to his cheek, lingering slightly.

Unlike the night before, Damian retained some of his faculties and firmly placed his hand on her own cheek before leaning in to kiss her gently on the lips. Marinette froze momentarily, making Damian freeze and start to pull back before she flung her arms around his neck to pull him closer and kiss him back enthusiastically.

EDIT! Now with a part 2

#Daminette #maribat #damian x marinette #my first fic #after i couldn't find the fic i wanted i got possessed by something i made an entirely different fic #i did this in 2 days #so its probably not great #but i enjoyed it #so maybe yall will too #daminette fanfic #im not joking i was possessed #my partner says hes gonna read this but i dont think he will #he doesnt really DO romance #lmao #ao3 fanfic #ao3

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sgiandubh · 3 months ago

Note

Caitriona didn’t mention Tony. Seems the ‘reporter’ utilized Google. 😂

Dear Didn't Mention Anon,

It's always a sarcastic pleasure to see tension climbing for literally nothing across the street. Some other Brazilian Anon, just like you (best way to convey your thoughts was, in proper English, 'the reporter used Google' - not the Portuguese semantic calque 'utilized'...), even speculated we must be hiding this shattering press article, since no reaction and/or discussion happened as of yet.

Brazilian Anons would certainly have made better use of their time and grey cells if they simply presumed that in another time zone people really have other (simple and boring and prehaps even endearing) things to do. While Brazilan Anons were probably sleeping or having breakfast, someone else was just about to end a shorter Friday work schedule, buy Chinese takeaway on the way home, have a light lunch, take out Baby the Lab for a short pee stroll around the block. And mercifully collapse in flannel sheets for a blessed siesta, waiting for the first snowy day of the year. But enough about me, Anon, you are not here for this: you are here for that article - https://www.mindfood.com/article/caitriona-balfe-looks-ahead-to-life-after-outlander/

It is also an amusing factoid that C's PR and/or *** very often seem to favor second-tier media outlets in order to keep spreading around the Narrative Word. Pinoy regional gazettes, borderline clickbait/gossip websites and now Mindfood, a vanity/hybrid press magazine based and edited in New Zealand and Australia by McHugh Media Group, which main activity, at least in Oz, is (🥁🥁)...paper mills and paper manufacturing - of course.

[Source: https://www.dnb.com/business-directory/company-profiles.mchugh_media_australia_pty_limited.6ded585ed8e21b347589059682b44143.html]

Within that group, the Mindfood project is but an apparently lucrative subsidiary ('integrated media company', LOL), despite some dire client reviews ( 2 out of a resounding global 3, how odd!) on Google:

'Rank amateur's' [sic!] (...) What sort of magazine publisher doesn't have a manned office? (...) They'll go broke very quickly like that.' '(...)pretty shabby treatment of a customer.'

😱😱😱

But let's assume I am twisting again the plot (I don't, I do not need to). Let's assume I am evil like that and I give credence to two very negative (but brutally clear, too) user reviews only. Perhaps I am wrong, you might say. So, let's also have a look at some company figures, shall we?

Nay contest, it's them.

[Source: https://rocketreach.co/mchugh-media-profile_b5d2097af42e3bbb]

Now, my lovelies, how can I put it without offending anyone? What we are looking at, here, is a small company with 5 (five) employees, few web hits (164.480 hits is ridiculous, when we are talking about press/media!), but a comfortable revenue (7 million AUD - about 4.5 million USD). May I remind you that a company's revenue is roughly its gross income, before subtracting operating costs, wages and taxes. But given they have only 5 employees, wage expenses & operating costs must be marginal and taxes are rather friendly in New Zealand, where their HQ is (to the point there was, three years ago, an ongoing debate in order to determine if the country was a tax haven: https://thespinoff.co.nz/business/06-10-2021/is-nz-a-tax-haven-for-the-rich-and-dodgy-the-pandora-papers-reignite-the-debate), you do the maths. Therefore, how can this rather substantial profit be explained, otherwise than by a very friendly editorial policy towards paid and/or sponsored content and product placement galore (Lifestyle, anyone)?

Its immediate competitor is a supermarket chain in-house bulletin/leaflet, Campbell's Cash & Carry. The kind of thing that always lands somehow in your shopping bag and then directly in the kitchen trash:

This is enough to show their real reach and place on the market, I believe.

All this for what, Madam Knife? All this to say that paper is probably paid by the talent's PR/***. I will not go into useless detail, because there is very few new-ish/relevant information (e.g.: 'With a long season seven concluding in January, the Outlander epic will close out within the next 18 months, taking the episode total to 101. '). But I will, gleefully even, point out two tiny details, all of you patiently read this long rant for, in fact.

As always, McGill doesn't even deserve a quote, only reported speech that is, in fact, snowballing prior reference (this is exactly where copy/paste comes in very handy, you see). And a clumsy one at that, sugar on top - hence the copy/paste certainty and this is so, so rude, I could cry (nope...):

But... but... such a nice, thoughtful touch for her Stans, who spent DAYS in a row proving he was not a music producer, but the Night Media Manager (and I have to say, delivered actual quotes - still No Face, No Name, No Number, though):

[Tait rhymes with hate, alright - I know, darlings, it pisses you off to no tomorrow 😉.]

Copy paste/Goes to waste. Finally, I had to snort (not a pretty, nor feminine sight) when I realized Mindfood takes its readers for complete, amnesic idiots:

So she became 'a mother in August of 2021', but she did film 'the sixth season of the drama while pregnant'. Granted, this paper is written for casual OL viewers, the kind of people who did find C interesting/beautiful/clever/extraordinary, but who don't remember her name when prompted on candid camera, for example. The kind of superficial audience who will never do the maths and never question the fact a pregnant actress was filming beautiful (but steamy) scenes with her... ahem... with her co-star she is now 'consciously uncoupling' from.

ROFLMAO.

Not even sorry for the length, Anon. There you go, let's say good bye with a merry little song - I am told I have the best tunes on Tumblr (SMH). Really, Mindfood's client could have curated and tailored better the Retconning Operation - but perhaps even PR has trouble taking that man and his narrative role seriously?

youtube

#anon #fandom #shitshow #Mindfood interview November 2024 #business

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spacelazarwolf · 1 year ago

Text

hmmmmmmm i’m real fucking tired of jew haters lying abt me!

let's break this down, shall we?

white trans mascs like spacelazarwolf have no issue calling indigenous people "bone chillingly disturbing" for disagreeing with them.

actually i called what you said antisemitic, because it was. i called what i've witnessed from gentiles in general bone-chillingly disturbing and cruel, and that i've witnessed so much ignorance, hostility, and bloodlust from gentiles. because i keep seeing posts celebrating the massacre that happened on the 7th, and i keep getting anons that tell me "hitler missed one", "the world would be better off without your ilk", "we should have gotten rid of you all ages ago", "die zionists rats *nose emoji*", and a lot of very graphic descriptions of how they would like to rape and kill me. one user, blatantly on their blog, openly said that someone should kill me, and someone said they knew where i lived and could make that happen. that's not disagreeing with me. that is bloodlust.

they pretend to care about racism when trans women engage in it, but have zero issue jumping right to demonic stereotypes about indigenous people who dare to point out that their support of israel is supporting genocide.

hey asshole. I WASN'T TALKING ABOUT YOU.

also. I HAVE BEEN OPEN ABOUT MY CRITICISM OF ISRAEL, MY REFUSAL TO SUPPORT IT AS A STATE, AND MY BELIEF THAT WHAT THEY'RE DOING IS GENOCIDE. YOU FUCKING IDIOT.

literally just blatantly lying about a jew's opinion on israel so you can harass and demonize them is, i hate to tell you, antisemitic.

these so called "anti-semitic rants" were me saying jewish people can survive without israel and do not need to colonize or genocide another group of people to survive.

let's give some of the highlights of your posts:

"while you're here hand-wringing about the safety of israelis and spreading the white supremacist lie that they must be in israel to be safe, israel secured its continued existence by just now murdering 500+ parients and doctors under the excuse of 'well hamas is violent and is hiding in there"

'handwringing' do you mean mourning the deaths of peace activists and children? also if you've read literally any of my other posts on the matter, you know i literally talk about how zionists institutions and leadership use jewish safety and antisemitism in the diaspora to bolster support for a jewish state. pointing this out isn't agreeing with it when you do it, why is it when i do it? what could the difference possibly be??

also, there has been no confirmation on who caused the hospital bombing. there are many reports that it was a misfire by one of the groups in gaza, and those are still being investigated. regardless of who fired it, it's still a tragedy. it's still hundreds of innocent lives lost. and it does not change the fact that the lives lost on the 7th were also a tragedy. using this devastating loss of palestinian life as a bludgeon against a diaspora jew for having the audacity to mourn dead jews is disgusting.

"[you] only bring up jewish people of color to argue that israel is actually not a racist project because israel is the only thing stopping jewish people from being exterminated."

literally just lying.

"jewish people in israel are behaving as and acting as white supremacist colonizers of color"

thanks for literally just outright saying that you think the problem is jews, not the state of israel.

"colonizers globally are constantly killing kids"

and therefore the israeli children who died don't matter? are you expecting jewish people to choose between their nieces and nephews and innocent palestinian children who are killed in gaza?

"[spacelazarwolf has] ranted and raved that without israel existing, the jewish people would be genocided. he's appropriated the struggle of indigenous and black people abroad to cry that jewish people aren't welcome in countries like the us, despite living in the us and benefiting from his whiteness and the oppression of indigenous and black people as many other white jewish people do"

i think you've made it pretty clear you're totally fine lying about what i've actually said regarding israel, but the idea that jews are "appropriating the struggle of indigenous and black people abroad" when we talk about experiencing antisemitism in the countries we live in is so???????????? also you make it really clear in this snippet that your issue isn't with israel but with jews in general.

"white jewish people...have been able to exist in relative safety for decades in european countries"

are you actually fucking insane.

"israel's existence has made things more dangerous for jewish people in the middle east and north africa because these are areas that HISTORICALLY had co-existence between religious groups"

nice historical revisionism! swana was safer than christian countries for sure, but it's SO clear to me that you know absolutely nothing about the history of the jews of swana.

"he and israel supporters like him are constantly distracting from the war crimes and terrorism ISRAEL IS COMMITTING by handwringing perpetually about 'but violence is bad and hamas is bad for being violent, the only good palestinians are the ones that are quiet and don't fight back against us when we kill their kids"

sorry, who's "we"? are diaspora jews killing kids? or do you just equate every single jew in the diaspora to israel? also, yet more blatantly lying and claiming i support israel when i repeatedly have stated i haven't! but it's much more convenient to claim i have, because then you can say that i kill kids!

there's a bunch of other times you repeat the lie that i support israel and "advocate for the continued existence of a settler colonizer state and lying and claiming it's the only way for jewish people to be safe" but i won't include all of those bc this post would be VERY long.

"israel supporters are really out here arguing that palestinians need to hold hands with their genociders and forgive them and find peace - completely ignoring that for centuries there was peace between religious groups in the region and israel destroyed it"

goyim being embarrassingly ignorant of jewish history outside of a warped view of the holocaust? i am shocked!

"the supposed civilians attacked turned out to be iof soldiers so yeah actually it's fucked for you to say. they shouldn't attack people who colonize and massacre palestinian people for their day job"

blatantly supporting the massacre of 1,300 israelis, including children.

"all they can do is fight back or die, while israelis grab their passport and fly back to the us or some other european country and wait for israel to finish their genocide so they can go back"

feel like i don't need to explain why. this is conspiracy theory levels of antisemitic.

"the crying and bellyaching that if the jewish people don't have israel, they'll have to go back to countries that are hostile to them is not one i have sympathy for"

yeah we know you don't have sympathy for jews, that's very clear.

"jewish people, black people, and indigenous people all still live there and survive and fight back and thrive in solidarity together. and they DON'T participate in genocide against other groups of people"

yet again making the blatant assertion that it is JEWS who are committing genocide, and not the israeli government. also let's not pretend that. there's always been perfect solidarity between our communities. jews have not always been the best allies to indigenous people and black people, and vice versa.

"there are other places to turn to if you had any interest in NOT participating in western hegemonic white supremacy. but instead of staying and fighting and existing and thriving with other marginalized people who are at HIGHER risk than you in these countries, you argue that somehow jewish people should be exempt from this work that every other marginalized community does"

shouldn't have to point out that i don't argue that, but also this is, again, conspiracy theory levels of fucked up.

"bonkers to watch israel-supporters screaming and crying that if they don't colonize and genocide palestinians then jewish people can't safely exist"

yikes.

"if it were remotely true, israelis wouldn't have pulled out their dual citizenship passports and gone back to europe and the us to wait at a distance for their government to finish the genocide they started in 1948"

again, yikes.

there is a choice outside colonization - you can just fucking leave and go back to your home countries that are welcoming you with open arms cuz you still have dual citizenship. you don't have to commit genocide colonize people to exist."

more yikes.

"spacelazarwolf really wants to try and argue that they can't stop colonizing palestine cuz if they do, they have to go back to - checks notes - countries where a ton of people still live"

who is "they"?

"for some reason [spacelazarwolf] thinks that to avoid going through [genocide], jewish people need to be allowed to commit genocide themselves and eradicate palestinians"

once again lying abt me, and also openly saying that they believe it is jews who are committing genocide.

"fucking bonkers that he thinks he somehow has the right to commit genocide and colonize to avoid the situation other jewish people, indigenous people, and black people worldwide find themselves in. cowardly bitch baby behavior actually. like i'm sorry lots of other groups of colonized people, who have been subject to genocide and violence, and racism and are still undergoing it, has managed to NOT colonize other groups of people for their own gain."

bc jews are just inherently more evil than other marginalized ppl, right? we're just more prone to being selfish and hurting people? we're just sniveling whiny bitch babies who will turn around and stab you in the back, right?

"screaming and crying that 'we need to be allowed to genocide palestinians or otherwise we have to go back to the us, where we as white jewish people never have to actually deal with the things indigenous and black people there do' is disgusting genocidal behavior. the thought of actually being in solidarity with colonized people is repulsive to people like spacelazarwolf - that's why they all seek to justify colonial projects instead."

again, conspiracy theory levels of fucked.

at no point do i engage in anti-semitism. all i ever criticize is israel.

don't feel like i need to point out that this is not true.

he has repeatedly stated that israel has to exist, otherwise jewish people have to go back to the us, where indigenous people are being genocided.

cool lie! also fucked up thing to say!

i've said nothing about jewish pain and trauma. in fact, i have said on numerous occasions that jewish pain and trauma are very real and that they DO NOT justify. colonization.

mmmmmmmmmm nah. "whiny little bitch babies" is not saying that "jewish pain and trauma are very real." also oops you accidentally did dual loyalty again.

but spacelazarwolf is so rabidly racist he immediately began fearmongering about the bloodlust savage knocking at his door trying to kill him.

i'm on desktop or i would include that mike wazowski standing meme bc genuinely what the fuck.

anyway, i have no doubt that their support palestinians is genuine. that's great. but it is also incredibly clear that they hate jews, and that is going to be a huge detriment to their activism for palestinians, and they're not the only one this is happening with. people need to figure that shit out on their own instead of harassing and lying about jews online and perpetuating this kind of violently antisemitic rhetoric. bc this is like beyond fucked. i am tired of gentiles blatantly lying abt me so they can get away with saying horrendously antisemitic things to and about me. get your fucking shit together.

#i/p

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