#and am in awe that she defies it most days
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emailsicantsnd · 5 months ago
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respectfully, i feel like the vogue world outfit is the first time in a while sabrina's actually looked her height
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skipper1331 · 8 months ago
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fan girl // Alexia Putellas
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a/n: based off this request!
It was movie night at Alexia‘s, the girls seated around her living room as snacks and soft drinks were on the coffee table for everyone.
The girls had to decided to watch your new movie, all of them a big fan of your acting. Alongside you, big names like Margot Robbie and Ryan Reynolds - the movie was made to be a hit.
And Alexia had to admit that she watched every single one of your movies, most of the time more enjoying the view rather than the plot. It didn’t matter if she was the queen of football, she was madly crushing on you.
For once, Alexia wasn‘t getting Fan-girled but was Fan-girling herself. Something about you made her heart flutter, cheeks blushy and starstruck.
So, every time you appeared on screen, Alexia zoned out, comments from her friends falling to deaf ears, snacks long forgotten. She was completely in awe.
"That movie was mind blowing!" Claudia stated shocked after the movie had finished.
"That ending was very unexpected" Patri joined before the whole group talked about the movie. They discussed the ending, the plot, what they liked and didn‘t like, and the acting skills of each individual - simply everything.
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A few weeks later, the call came that Alexia had to attend to an event, nothing knew for the Ballon D‘or winner you might think, but this event was different. Not necessarily from what would happen there but from the guests. Normally, some important people from the sports industry would be there, many media people or other important people in general - people Alexia knew or (dis)liked.
This time though, you would be there too. Alexia only knew this because she saw your instagram story - a window picture out of a plane, Barcelona marked as the destination - big headlines in the news.
In the following days, Alexia acted nervous and excited, sights you didn‘t see often. Mapi made fun of her because of that, even though she could understand Ale‘s excitement - who wouldn’t be excited to meet you?
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"How do I look?" Alexia asked Mapi and Ingrid.
Both of them had agreed to help the Barcelona captain get ready as everything had to be perfect - perfect to meet you. She wanted to talk to you - that might be her only chance to ever talk to you, she didn‘t want to ruin that. She had to be subtle about approaching you yet attentive, respectful and kind. She couldn’t be some weird obsessed fan, she had to be herself - Alexia.
"Just be yourself" Mapi stated when Ale couldn’t stop rambling about you. What would you be wearing? How should she start a conversation? Would there even be an opportunity to talk to you? Are you nice? You probably are, no bad words about you in the world - everybody always talking highly of you.
"How am I supposed to be myself?! She‘s literally a Hollywood star!" Alexia defended herself. As if it was so easy to be herself.
"María is right, though" Ingrid added, "Ale, you‘re not just anyone, who knows maybe she‘s a football fan herself. Just start the conversation casually, be nice, ask her about her interests and everything should be fine" the Norse explained, trying to ease the Catalonians mind.
Alexia wasn‘t just anyone, she was a Barcelona player, World Cup winner, 2x Ballon D‘or winner and many other trophies winner, but most importantly, she was human. Her trophies didn‘t defy her as a person - she wasn’t arrogant or bragging about her achievements, instead she was a friendly, caring and supportive friend.
"Thank you"
-
Alexia attended the event, more nervous than usually.
She talked to the people she had to, conversations about football or other business stuff or talked to some people who she actually enjoyed talking to.
Yet all evening, she kept looking for you, not seeing you anywhere which disappointed her. She was looking forward to see you, for once not on tv.
When she went to the bar, ordering a drink, she had already lost hope, until she tensed up.
"Hola la reina" a voice beside her greeted, accent thick.
Tilting her head, she saw the gorgeous smile of you, "hi" she greeted, smiling shyly.
You had referred to her as la Reina.
"I have to admit, I’m a bit disappointed that I was only able to talk to you now" you said, taking a sip of your drink. Everything seemed so effortless when you did it.
"I‘m Y/N Y/L/N, big fan"
Shaking your hand, she replied "Alexia Putellas"
After that the conversation came floating by with an ease, all nervousness from the both of you washed away.
Alexia wasn‘t the only fan girl here, you fan-girled about her just as much, raised as an Barcelona fan since you were a little girl.
All night, you continued flirting with each other, discovering same interests and discussing topics from a-z, also not talking to anyone else but each other. It felt easy to talk to Alexia, no judgement at all as she listened to everything you had to say. She couldn’t care less if it was a random fact, even though you had seemingly very much of them (which she secretly absolutely adored) or if it was your opinion on whatever. She enjoyed hearing you talk, your opinions and points of view well explained.
At some point during the night, she asked "So, you‘re an football fan?"
"Oh yes, absolutely"
"Favorite club?"
"Real Madrid, obviously" you joked, her reaction hilarious - wide eyes, open mouth, look of disgust on her features.
"I‘m joking!" you laughed, "I’m a culer through and through"
"You almost gave me an heart attack!" she hit your arm playfully, continuing to talk about football. This time is was you who listened. The sound of Alexias voice angelic.
You loved how passionate she talked about her profession and how serious she got when she analyzed something, she was the perfect mixture of professionalism and passion - something you admired.
When the night came to an end, you walked her outside, waiting for her taxi to arrive.
"It was nice meeting you, la reina" you beamed, squeezing her hand as you had held it on the way out, so she wouldn’t get lost.
Girls thing.
"Likewise"
Looking at one another with googly eyes, no one realized that the taxi had arrived until the driver honked, bringing you back to earth.
"I would like to see you again, sometime?" you shifted nervously on your feet, eyes darting across her features. She was breathtaking.
"Maybe at the match next weekend?" Alexia didn’t expect you to say yes with your busy schedule and new upcoming projects but she tried it anyways. She really wanted to see you again.
"I will be there"
The midfielder‘s face lit up, the widest smile on her face, eyes sparkling as her heart jumped around happily.
"Good night, la reina and stay safe" you pressed your lips on the barcelona players cheek before you walked back inside with shaking hands. You had just kissed the famous Alexia Putellas’ cheek and it felt good!
Alexia on the other hand had crimson red cheeks, was breathing heavily as she touched completely dazed the spot were your lips had been seconds ago.
It seemed like you would stay for another few days in Barcelona. This wasn‘t the end. Maybe, for once, you wouldn't be playing a role in a romance film, but would be living your very own romance.
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threepandas · 1 month ago
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Bad End: My Faithful
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Cling. Cling. Sacred bells and jewelry clatter, strike and move, in synch with song. No beat is wasted. No step, anything but sure. Muscles roll in the moonlight. He is beautiful. Enchanting. We gather. Each for different reasons. Each to worship something. As all of us, worship the divine.
The steps having meaning, I am told. They combine into a prayer. Swift and flowing, haunting as it is. His feet are so certain. His movements so graceful. It's no wonder the Gods love him so. His faith shines so purely. The high priest of Nox, beloved child of Night and Mind.
It's appalling, to me, that I should get to see this at all.
Like some cheap dancer on display, the King has demanded he perform, for the "sacred maiden" to witness. Ha. Sacred to WHOM? Certainly not us. The Lumos have been creeping like a sickness. Imbalancing the world, yet daring to proclaim themselves cures. And now? NOW? They have called upon their God to defy the natural order.
An otherworldly soul.
"Sacred", my ass.
She has bewitched the royal family, who already coddled the Lumos. Begun to collect powerful men like trinkets. And now? Now she wants to "learn about the Nox"? Ha! With out a shred of respect! It is because our High Priest is handsome. Because everyone knows that. I... I want to weep. Refuse too, during this sacred Rite.
They have made cheap, lustful spectacle, of one of our most holy rites. A sacred ritual dance. Meant to be perform only in the presence of the inner temple Grand Worshipers. Those who had cleansed themselves and been made pure.
Not... not those who would ogle him. Look upon him like a courtesan dancer.
What threat did they use? What disgraceful tactics? I stand amongst other Priests and Priestess', both in awe and sickened to my core. We have no right to be here. To see this. But... but we WILL. By Nox, none of us will leave.
I gathered as many as I could, when I heard. The purification baths ran from sun down to sun up. We had to borrow every tub we could find. More then a few of us skipping over a day's worth of meals, just to stay pure.
We bunked six or more to a room, traveled for days. But... but by Nox, I gathered them. Every Temple and worshiper I could find. And we are Pure. We are with him. Through us, I hope, Nox is with him, and... and that this ugly desecration of our ways, this foul spectacle, will not mar his soul.
I pray.
Watch, disgusted, as the so called Sacred Maiden "ooos and aaahs" like this is some festival event. Eating food as she blushes and ogles a holy man. The royal family around her, having the audacity to openly look bored. Only the youngest prince refuses food, wear properly dark colors. Treats this as the uncomfortable, twisted, but still holy event that it IS.
Perhaps all is not lost.
The Dance ends.
She has the audacity to CLAP.
The Lumos worshipers in the crowd begin to follow her lead, before noticing the appalled stares from our side. They awkwardly trail off. The youngest prince has closed his eyes in horror. You do NOT make NOISE after the Dance. You LISTEN, in a moment of silence, for the wisdom of Nox, as you consider your troubles.
Why don't you spit in our God's FACE next, you wretch!
You've done EVERYTHING ELSE.
Oblivious, she excitedly chatters, loudly, to her Royal lover. Points down to the High Priest in clear question and intent. No. NO. Absolutely NOT! I could not stop this travesty, but I would rather die at this point, then see it go further.
I step forward. Crossing the unspoken ritual line. My fellow Worshipers inhale sharply. What am I DOING? Have I gone insane? They must wonder. Perhaps I have. So be it. But from the corner of my eye, I see the Lumos harlot bouncing down from her viewing box, dragging along an indulgent royal. Entitled and presumptuous, they have taken ENOUGH.
My hand comes up to my night cloak. Ceremonial, yes, but beautifully indistinct. The wearer could be anyone. My strides lengthen. No more. By Nox, there will be no more.
His Holiness stands where the final step left him, head tilted back in prayer, eyes closed. Face somber in the face of this great insult. He has not bowed before such indignity, as what son of the Gods ever would? Before a mere King.
We, by all rights, should never meet. I am a simple, small time, temple keeper. A handful of Worshipers at best. But my faith can not, WILL NOT, let me stand idle. My presumption is unacceptable... but allowing His Holiness to be drooled over like meat? Be treated like a novelty and toy, to be trotted out for some Lumos woman's amusement? That is unthinkable.
I murmur apologies, even as I drape my cloak around his shoulders, raise the hood. Turn and guild him, gently but with insistence, back towards my fellow Worshipers. The Royals have noticed. Call for me to stop.
Not once do I break stride. They can call all they like. I will not.
The others have figured out my plan, simple as it is. Their loyalty is without question. Gently they drift forward, as though simply making room for each other. Parting to allow us into the crowd. Swallowing us instantly. A cloak is thrown over me by an older Priest, a spare, it seems. I nod. Keep walking.
His Holiness has lost his somberness, his touch of anger. The cold blade-like bite of rage. His arm slides around mine. Merely two Worshipers, out for a stroll. The curl of amusement at the edges of his lips. Behind us, Royal gaurds are roughly shoving people out of the way. The Nox are not making it easy.
Enough is enough.
Down the road, gaudy Lumos gaurds have cut off the path. Their precious little Maiden wants her amusement. If she seeks to meet a holy man? Then it does not matter that he is not for her to meet, that his faith has rules and traditions to adhere too. The spoiled child must have her toys. The burning light will consume as it pleases.
Ritualisticly painted fingers slid between mine. A cool hand, humming with power, gentle as it gripped my own. Startled, I looked down. His Holiness was holding my hand. His grip having casually slide down, even as he remained intertwined. He leaned, as we passed by an alley, nudging me into it. Swinging around me, on dancer's feet, to lightly brush the brickwork edge of the entrance with his other hand.
The one that was solid black, as a night without stars.
All light disappeared.
Behind us, I could hear the noise and fuss of the street. But only a few steps in? It disappeared. Everything hushing, like a heavy blanket upon the night. The stone beneath us... not cobbled. Not brickwork either. A Worshiper of the Light, I imagine, would be terrified. But I? I was in AWE.
It was the Night, concentrated. Shadows and darkness, yet I could see. Holy in its silence. It's quiet contemplation. There... there were colors, here, that I could not begin to name. A softness. Yet? A danger.
This was a place that would entice you. Call to you. Invite you to ponder and rest. Have no concern for the harsh light of day, the trouble of man. You could wander forever. Never to return. Sleep for centuries, uninterrupted. It was no wonder, that Nox did not grant this wonder to the common disciple. The strength His Holiness would need, not to go mad? To become lost? Was unimaginable.
I turned to him, certain the wonder must be painted on my face. My jaw on the floor. He seemed delighted by my reaction. A charmed look on his face. I had so many questions. Was uncertain I was even allowed to ask. Where would I even begin? Could I even begin?
"Ask," he allowed, voice soft and inviting. Tucking my arm close. Then moving to slide his arm around my body, no doubt to guide me. "I will-"
"YOU."
The word snapped and cracked through the air, like a great shattering. A command and accusation. It echoed in my bones, rattled in my soul, even as the silence if this place swallowed it's edges. I froze, midstep. Because... because that was impossible. That voice. It could not possibly be behind me.
Because....
His Holiness was standing right next to me.
"Unhand that child, you wretched thing!" Came the command from behind us. The cadence unmistakable, the sheer presence, impossible to match. I had attended enough sermons to know. "Did you think I would not find you?! Not see the chaos you cause in my name? I am not so blind!"
"....aren't you?"
That was not his Holiness voice.
Fear, like the branching death of a lightning strike, shoots through me. Horror and panic, crashing together in a suffocating dance, that commands me to move. Now. NOW! Move!!
I try to jerk away from the imposter next to me. Only to find that I can not. My body pressed against his side, like lovers on a stroll. When? When did he?! How did I not notice!? No. I DID notice. But thought nothing of it! Because His Holiness would never act untoward. Is a respectful and holy man. Oh Nox! But this is not-!
"Now look what you've done. You've upset her. How rude of you, Priest of Nox." Chides the imposter, even as my breath picks up. As I struggle harder, to no avail. No! No no NO! Help me! Somebody-! PLEASE!
His other arm comes up as he turns towards me, about to wrap around me like a cage. I feel tears begin to burn my eyes. Betrayal and fear, confusion and horror, what... what is HAPPENING!?
A shard a night, black and filled with stars, sings death and it shoots between us. Forcing the imposter to lean back. Away from me. The first is followed by a hail of more. Making him step back. One step. Two. Giving me just enough room to struggle free and stumble back.
"Keep your lustful eyes away from that child, Priest of Kháos! You have perverted, desecrated, enough! You will go no further."
Never had I so much as heard, much less seen, the High Priest in such a fury. And it WAS him. It could be no one else. He wore his robe, in full, prayer paint delicate across his face and hands. Starlight clung to his night black hair, danced in his eyes. He was a moon, a light, in this softly shadowed place. How... how could I have mistaken the imposter for him?
Desperately, I tried to run to his side. That pillar of strength, of faith, that would guide me through this nightmare. I barely got two steps. My cloak captured in an unshakable grip.
"Ah~ ah~ ah~, none of that, dear. We're not done." The imposter said, voice light and scolding. As though I was just being silly and difficult, not struggling desperately to escape. "And we were doing so well! Didn't you like me, dear? You were so thoughtful and charming. So cute! I've certainly come to like~ you~♡"
My terrified gaze met his Holiness', in both forever and an instant. There was fear for me there. Strength. Determination. The eyes of the man that had lead us all. With kindness and hope, faith and compassion. A brother and father and friend. I... I could see the exact moment... he decided.
He lunged forward, holy blade surging into being. Cutting through my cloak.
"GO!" He shouted. "RUN! Nox be with you!"
I run.
The silence is consumed behind me. Crashing and clanging. Whoosing and booms. The sounds of great, terrible battle between the powerful. All I can do... all I can hope to do? Is get to a safe distance. Survive this madness. Believe in his Holiness. He will win. He... he MUST win! He is the High Priest of Nox. A child beloved by the gods. He... he MUST win...
Right?
The shadows hide me, and for that I amgrateful, but they also hide all paths beneath my feet. The soft darkness is endless. Running, running, running. Long after it all falls to silence. Even as my lungs burn and my legs cramp. I... I don't know where I am. Can no longer hold back my tears.
What have I DONE?
I brought the loyal to the filthy alter of an imposter. A false idol. I have made apostates of the faithful, lead them astray! Nox, forgive me, I have betrayed my own family! Your people! I sob, curling into myself. I... I didn't mean too! I swear!
Alone, I pray in the dark.
Eventually though, my tears run dry, and all I can do... is wait.
I can not escape this place under my own power. No amount of running will find an exit. And sooner or later? Either there will be a victor... or both His Holiness and the Imposter will perish, and I will starve. Or perhaps be lost to this place? I do not know. All I can do, now, is... is face it with dignity. Wait. Pray.
.......alone.
Steps. Playful and almost dancing. Skipping and swirling erratically to a beat all their own. Discordant humming, three different song all at once, overlapping poorly. Dread seeps through my veins. I... I do not recognize the voice. Yet, I do. If it were to... to pretend to be...? Oh Nox.
"Darling~, there you are! My, my, you ran quite the distance! Didn't you?" The jingle of bells and discordant voices, shifting together as he speaks. I feel frozen. But that does not save me. The imposter merely meandering and dancing his way around, to loom directly above me. "Found~ you~, ha ha!"
As though it were a joke and not a horror. My vision filled with bright and garish colors. Bells and scarves. My cloak, like damning accusation, still draped around the liars shoulders. Eye level to a belt of many different sized bells and beads, I look up. A terrible smile lays in wait there, to greet me. Covetous and manic. Filled with rending teeth.
"You know the problem with assumptions, sweetness? It's the risk that you could be wrong! You go into a situation, think to yourself 'oh, I'm just gonna face off against a boring, lame little priest, like me!' when in REALITY? Your about to pick a fight with something so, SO much better."
"See," the imposter squats, as though about to reveal a secret, just between the two of us. "Cutey," A claw tipped had comming up to slide across my cheek before with a light pat, he decided to grip it. "Kháos? Oh He doesn't HAVE a high priest. No, no! Why waste the time? The effort! You gotta train those. And it's SO easy it lose um."
An exaggerated mockery of sorrow, before the grin returned.
"No, see, Kháos? HE has an AVATAR~! Isn't that fun? And you'll never guess, sweet, who that avatar is~. Go on. Guess." I was frozen. The level of power he was suggesting... oh Nox. No. Please, no. His Holiness was... "That's right! ME. Such a smart girl~! And you know what I've always wanted to do? Steal a pretty little priestess of my very own!"
"You and me? Well get along nicely, sweetheart. You're gonna covert great~♡"
There was no way out. The grip on my face threatened to bruise. All I could see was sharp, sharp teeth and a mad man's grin. Oh, Nox! Oh, NOX! Someone, anyone! Please! Even the Lumos at this point! I called out... but nothing answered.
"Worship at my alter. Just you and me, dear! I can't wait to burn the world down!"
"Now, close your eyes, give us a kiss, and let's pray, m'kay~♡?"
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starryalpacasstuff · 2 months ago
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Fire (1996): A Mostly Spoiler Free Pitch Because You Should Watch It Immediately
It's time for "An Indian QL bulldozed past my expectations and I am reeling in awe", Part Two!
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A few days ago, @neuroticbookworm told me about Fire, an old lesbian Indian movie she'd been wanting to watch. Me being me, I promptly tracked it down and settled in to watch it.
Very loosely based on the 1942 short story Lihaaf, the movie follows Sita, a newly wed bride who is settling in with her in-laws, which is how she meets Radha, who is married to her husband's brother. Both in unhappy marriages, they find solace and company with each other, quickly falling in love. Length: 1 Hour 40 Minutes TWs: Homophobia, C-word mentioned once, some depictions of domestic violence Release: 1996
The is almost entirely in English, and while one generally expects Bollywood movies to be in Hinglish, it's definitely a conscious choice here, which does make me wonder if the movie was supposed to be promoted to a greater international audience. You can find it here on Youtube, most of the (very few) Hindi dialogues have hard subtitles. I think it's also available on Prime? It wasn't available in India though, which is odd, but I didn't bother investigating. Let me know if anyone can figure anything out about this!
Going into this movie, I expected a melodramatic, emotional movie with a bittersweet tone. I did not expect a biting, incredibly engaging movie with excellent satire, symbolism, discussions of chastity culture, and an incredibly sweet, beautifully written romance. And I was certainly not prepared for how incredibly horny this movie is??? Both in subtle tension and overt sex scenes. There's also partial nudity, which again, completely unexpected. If you're going taboo, go taboo all the way I suppose. It's also very well directed, and while I'm not nearly as good at identifying details like that as some of the people on here, I did pick up on some colour coding and interesting framing. It's just overall packed with little details that I think a lot of us would have a field day analysing.
Honestly, I could talk about the cultural nuances in this movie for hours. Contrary to my assumption about the reasoning behind making the movie fully in English, the movie seems to rely on the viewer's understanding of North Indian customs to deliver a lot of it's messages, particularly with its satire, more on that below. While I don't think it's necessary to enjoy the movie, it definitely does add some meat to the story. Then again, I'm a biased party, so it'll be hard to determine just how many messages may be lost to someone from outside of India without someone to compare notes with (this is me shamelessly trying to get you to watch the movie). Honestly, I'd be 100% down to write a more detailed, spoiler-including post that goes into the implicit nuances if people are interested.
There's two main selling points for the movie; the incredible way it shuts down purity and chastity ideology and the absolutely adorable relationship between Radha and Sita. The movie is set on ruthlessly tearing down and emphasizing the ridiculousness of purity culture. A lot of the messaging is indirect and uses metaphors, but there's also several explicit scenes addressing the issue. It's one of the main themes of the movie and I'm almost convinced the real reason it's titled 'Fire' is the sheer number of burns it dishes out on this subject. The romance portion of this movie is one of the thing's that completely defied my expectations. It wasn't sad and dramatic, it was heartfelt and silly and adorable. There's several scenes of the two subtly flirting, laughing together and just being lowkey in love. But that's not to say there's no emotional depth—they're also there for each other and are quite vulnerable with each other.
The movie used a lot of metaphors, but my favourites were the almost satirical representation of mythological stories. In a religion as diverse as Hinduism, every holiday has two dozen stories behind it and each story has two dozen versions, so it's to be expected that you'll find a number of problematic or otherwise kind of ridiculous stories in the mix. The stories were told completely seriously, but the context of the movie highlights their absurd facets in a truly brilliant way. I'm not going to give too much away, but I will say, it was a delight to watch the juxtaposition of the myths and the storyline of the movie, particularly it's ties to the purity culture discussion. You'll understand when you watch it. I'm not turning this into a Hindu mythology lesson (yet) but one interesting tidbit is that Radha and Sita are both names of mythological figures; namely the partners of two of the most worshipped avatars of the god Vishnu: Krishna and Rama respectively. And I was overjoyed to find that their names do have relevance to the metaphors in the story, particularly Sita's.
When the movie was first released, there were massive protests against it, I'm talking hundreds of people storming into theatres to destroy them and drive away audiences. I don't know what to say here beyond this, but what I will say is that I think Fire is an amazing movie that absolutely does not deserve to be lost to the sands of time. I hope you give it a shot, and if you do, tag me in any posts you make about it!
Tagging people who seemed interested in recs from my last post, let me know if you'd rather I not tag you!
@lurkingshan @impala124 @bengiyo @letgomaggie @winnysatang
@watertightvines @nutcasewithaknife @blorbingqls @twig-tea
@waitmyturtles @cryingatships @benkaben @usertoxicyaoi
@befuddledcinnamonroll @flyingrosebeetle
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mothiir · 5 months ago
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Fulgrim’s Guide to the Care and Keeping of Your New Pet Human
so this is inspired by the space marine husbandry posts floating about, but because it’s Konrad it got quite dark 😅
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Darling Konrad, words cannot convey my delight that you have decided to welcome a human into your home. They are such wonderful companions, and so rewarding — but since it is your first time owning one I thought that I would put together a little guide for you!
Your humans first days at home:
I think it is simply wonderful that you’re adopting a rescue human — the Great Crusade has left so many of the poor dears without a home to call their own! You mentioned in your letter that you found her after the fall of Mercodia VI — am I right in assuming that she is one of the survivors of that little unpleasantness? If so, she may well be even more wary than normal, but don’t worry. Humans have quite short memories, and given enough time and care she’ll soon forget the fate of her family and friends. After all, they were awful traitors and got what they deserved for defying Father’s will — but in the meantime, don’t take anything she says personally. She’ll be upset and confused and will quite possibly lash out at you. I would advise letting her settle in on her own for a few days— maybe even a week or so. Put her in a room where your sons can’t trouble her (I’m sure the sweet little bats mean well, but they will play far too roughly for her), and give her some food and water. If you hear her crying, don’t worry — this is all very new for her, and she is probably quite overwhelmed. Eventually, she should calm down, and start exploring the room more thoroughly. Humans can be escape artists, so make sure it is well-secured. When you are ready to interact with her, I recommend skipping her morning meal so you can feed her yourself, therefore creating a positive association — you are the bringer of food! Don’t try and hand feed her; place the food on a plate and slide it towards her. Let her get used to eating with you in the room. She will probably be quite grubby, and humans are by nature fastidious creatures, so offer her a wet cloth and a bowl to clean herself, and a change of clothing. Avert your eyes if she makes use of either. Humans — especially female humans — do not like being watched while they disrobe. The key to helping your human settle in is consistency and patience! The initial adjustment period will be difficult but I promise you it will all be worth it.
Feeding:
Humans are relatively easy to feed. They require far less nutrition than your average Astartes and they will eat pretty much anything. However, in order to keep your human in the pinnacle of health I suggest a varied diet with plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables, and lots of clean water. Humans enjoy sugar, but make sure you don’t give her too much — it’s bad for her teeth. If you give her a meal she does not eat, do not get angry with her: humans can be picky eaters. Ask her what sort of food she would like to be given in future. Keep a note of what food she prefers. Food is an excellent way to build trust, as I noted above, and a great conversation starter. Just please do not tell her that you consume human flesh — humans tend to be squeamish about such things.
Grooming:
I have included some soap, shampoo and conditioner with this letter — I appreciate that you might not know quite how to use them, but present them to your human and I assure you she will be most grateful. Humans enjoy keeping themselves clean — indeed, it can be very sweet to watch them cover themselves with bubbles! — and I am sure she arrived into your keeping quite disgusting with the remnants of battle.
It probably goes without saying, but just to be clear: do not let her bathe with or near your sons. They will probably get a little overexcited. When they have learned to pet her nicely, then they can interact with her — but always under your supervision.
I have also included some clothes. Part of the joy of having a human is being able to dress them up, and it can be a fantastic bonding experience for you both. However, do not force it. Present her with the options and let her pick one. If there is one you would rather her wear, introduce it slowly — let her choose between that option, and something hideous. Don’t force her — everything should be done gently, coaxing her along. And that brings us to our next point —
Training:
I was going to call this section ‘discipline’ but I thought that sent the wrong idea. You should never punish your human as you would an Astartes. She is breakable in more ways than one — not only physically frail, but mentally as well. The sort of rough treatment that your sons would shrug off could quite easily kill her.
Instead of punishing undesirable behaviours, redirect her focus. For example, as I mentioned above she may be quite upset with you for burning her planet and flaying the inhabitants. This is a natural behaviour — that is, the human pack bonding instinct — but expressed poorly (that is, through denying the supremacy of the Emperor’s will). Do not punish her for being angry at you; instead, work on healthier outlets for her pack-bonding instincts. It may be a little earlier for her to pack-bond with you, so I’d suggest getting her something she can pack-bond with instead. A puppy is always a good option, though if you do decide to do this please ask me for breed recommendations, because I have seen the dogs that are native to Nostrames and I do not think they are suitable pets for an ork, let alone a human.
She may try and escape. Once again, this is her natural behaviour to explore and colonise. Try playing hide and seek with her, or encouraging her to wander the ship under your supervision.
Naming:
Your human probably comes with her own name, but to answer your question — yes, you can change it. In order to get her to answer to the new name, inform her that this is her new title, and reward her every time she responds to it. It might be difficult, but not impossible.
Regarding the name itself: none of the names First Captain Sevetar suggested are acceptable. Most aren’t actual names. Please do not take his advice in naming your new pet.
Spaying/neutering, the physical, are you really planning to — The other stuff:
I understand that the physical side of your relationship with your human is your primary concern at present, as you mentioned in your letter. Repeatedly. And although I do appreciate the detail you went into when describing her assets, I would recommend that you do not repeat most of what you wrote to her. I understand that you think ‘your face looks better on your skull than it would on my trophy wall so you get to keep your face’ is a compliment — and it is! — but humans are not quite as au fait with the finer points of language as we are, so she will probably take it the wrong way.
I am not saying that you cannot progress to greater intimacy with your human — I have been married four times (to women, despite what Russ likes to say), and it is quite the experience. However, I really must urge that you give her time to settle in and become accustomed to your presence, so she is more likely to reciprocate your advances.
When you feel she has started to warm to you a little, write to me again and I can help guide you through the next stage of human ownership. It is a marathon, not a sprint, but all the more rewarding for it!
As an aside — whatever Captain Sevetar says regarding intimacy is wrong. Do not listen to his advice. Do not do anything he suggests. If anything, do the opposite.
Forever yours, and all the love in the galaxy,
Fulgrim
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violetdawn001 · 5 months ago
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What is with the Dreamers' Houses?!?! Monomon's Archives
Okay, we can all agree that Team Cherry put a LOT of thought into crafting the backgrounds and environments of Hollow Knight. But why is nobody talking about the designs for the Dreamers' houses?! Especially compared with their base forms?  Well, let's start talking about it!
Behold! Monomon's Design!
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Taken from Monomon-the-Teacher.jpeg (1280×720) (punishedbacklog.com)
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Taken from: https://i.ytimg.com/vi/Yn7QtF-wkSY/maxresdefault.jpg
When you meet the Teacher, the first reaction is either "She's beautiful…" or "WHAT IS A JELLYFISH DOING IN A KINGDOM OF BUGS????" If one isn't your first reaction, then it will most certainly be your second.
I could go on about how Monomon pairs her elegant beauty with her mysterious origins, but then I would be repeating words all day. Let us pause and consider how Monomon, as THE Teacher, would teach Physics…while defying them. It isn't too much of a stretch to say Monomon would float outside of her tank when the all the other Jellies in game do.
Next is her Archives that to my knowledge, lacks books.
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We are immediately treated at the entrance of Monomon's Archives.  The only word that could sum it up would be awe: awestruck due to the beauty and the mystery. Looking at Monomon's house from the front can't help but remind one of how Jane Austen would describe a character's house…and how the house perfectly matched the character.
Entering the Archives, we quickly guess that no one has been here in a long time.
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But walk in far enough…
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And you can't help but guess what an awesome place this must have been.  Take a look at the detail!
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The insane amount of knowledge stored here is amazing…and we're on the first floor!
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Though we can't read most of it…and what we can read…
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Why Monomon, why? Even STEM students need to be proficient in spelling. Source: my engineer brother.
Moving on, the pathway to Monomon's tank is very straight-forward. So much so that we never get a chance to see all of the Teacher's Archives. One point that strikes me is that we never get a chance to see any classrooms. We see Monomon as a researcher as noted by the Charged Lumafly tank and entry:
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We know Monomon as a collector of information:
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We even get glimpses of Monomon being a mad scientist by creating the Uomu, Oomu, and Uummu.
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But the only sign of Monomon being a teacher is by her relationship with Quirrel and the name of her Archives. Unless I am missing something, (or we are simply not able to enter the classrooms) the Archives are more of a library and research center than a school. While I am of the mind that we simply do not see the whole Archives as we are so dead-set on getting to Monomon herself, it really says something about Monomon that we can only see the Madame as a Teacher in her relationships with others.
I would love to further this point, but this essay is for the Dreamers' houses, not necessarily the relationships the Dreamers had unless the relationships are implied in the housing designs themselves, such as the masks in Herrah's Den. Another essay would be required so the Dreamers' relationships can be given the focus and care they deserve.
Returning to Monomon's Archives, it is strange that of all the rooms we get access to, it is not ones that Monomon's students can enter. The pathway to Monomon's tank is blocked by acid.
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Yet we are the ones able to see Monomon in her resting place.
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Besides Quirrel. But Quirrel has a habit of getting into places most wouldn't dare enter. And it is fitting that Quirrel, Monomon's closest student, is the one to enter Monomon's inner sanctuary.
The Tech in the room is simply amazing and begs more study. Atlas, I fear I might have missed a great deal when it comes to the Teacher. If there is anything more, I hope another member of the Hollow Knight community will step up to fill the void, pun intended.
Now, let us discuss a resting place not for Monomon, but for the player.
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Is not this place so elegant in its decay? The perfect symmetry and the framing of the moss ceiling…it is a terrible pity we could not see the Teacher's Archives in Hallownest's prime.
Moving past the pity, let me share a little detail. Team Cherry, when designing each location, placed signs of the ruler of said location in the framework of the place, usually in the fencing. For Teacher's Archives…
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It's right at the bench! Which means Monomon is in charge!
The above statement, while made in good jest, possibly bears more weight than on a passing glance. We see no Hallownestian Seals or crests imbedded within the walls. There are also no King's idols or any item to be retrieved from the Archives. Everything in the Archives is centered around Monomon and her research.
This idea gives rise to a theory that perhaps the Teacher's Archives was not part of Hallownest, but rather neutral territory where ANYONE could come to learn about anything in peace. This would not be the first time in media where such a place existed. The TV show "Babylon 5" tells the story of a space station created as a place where the different alien races can learn about the other races in neutral territory for the purpose of creating peace.
 To answer some objections, yes, "The Pilgrams' Way" does pass through Fog Canyon, but it also passes through Greenpath which technically belongs to Unn, not the Pale King.  And the Archives is one of the few places that has its own, unique bench. 
If the Archives is not part of Hallownest, what does this neutrality tell us about Monomon? If the Teacher's Archives is indeed neutral territory, it shows how much emphasis Monomon puts on knowledge being open to everyone as the purpose of the Archives is a place to store all the knowledge she collected.
But if Monomon was neutral, how did she get involved with the Dreamer plan? Simple. Monomon cared about her students. Monomon welcomed everyone from anywhere, and everywhere was infected by the Radiance. To save her students, the majority of whom came from Hallownest, Monomon became a Dreamer. Unfortunately, it was all in vain as the world fell into stasis as one by one Monomon's students either died or fell to the Infection. The Archives, where you could find anyone from anywhere in Hallownest, now only holds jellyfish…
Before we wallow in sorrow, let us escape to the City of Tears and to the final Dreamer. Wait for part 3.0 coming soon!
This is a part series to see if I can fit everything in. I hope you enjoyed Monomon's Archives!
Part 1.0: Herrah's Den : Here
Part 2.0: Monomon's Archives (You are here)
Part 3.0: Lurien's Spire : Here
Part 3.25: More of Lurien's Spire: Here
Part 3.5: Lurien's Spire: Pillows and Patriotism: Here
Part 3.7 Lurien's Spire: What is wrong with Lurien's Office?! Here
Link to essay on Ao3: Here
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camille-lachenille · 5 months ago
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You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, and turn away in fear, hiding your small face in the skirts of your nurse.
This is home now, she told you, but you miss the trees and glades of your memories. But even as young as you are, you understand these are gone forever, ashes and dust, just like your family is gone.
You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, walking down the beach as you hold your nurse’s hand.
Look at this seashell, she told you, and you picked it up to listen the song of the sea contained within its polished curves. You are not scared anymore, for the sea may seem endless but can still fit in a seashell.
You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, and besides you stands a son of the mountains.
The sea is your home too, now, you told him, and he nodded silently, awe painted over his face. You are glad to have a friend who loves the sea too.
You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, the light of the jewel casting a rainbow of colours on the waves.
I will wear it, you said, defiant. You would not let fear consume you but now, you doubt. What if you should keep it hidden?
You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, wondering what lays beyond the horizon and where your husband is now.
It will be a matter of a season at most, he told you before setting sail, and you choose to believe him, to believe in his hope. You blessed his ship with the jewel, for good measure, and he smiled and kissed you goodbye.
You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, a hand curled protectively over your still flat stomach, and worry about the future.
I am with child, you told your husband earlier today, and he spun you in his arms, laughing and crying. He promised to stay by your side until the child is old enough, and you loved him all the more for this.
You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, as you slowly walk down the beach, a child clinging to each one of your hand.
I need to go, to find a safe place for our boys to grow, your husband told you, and you let him go, resigned. He wasn’t wrong after all, but you still felt like he broke his promise.
You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, your back turned to the flames, blood and death as you face the waves.
If you want the jewel, come and take it, you shouted in defy when you saw them, the monsters that haunted your nights as a child and your days as a mother.
You look at the sea, daughter of the forest, and you fall with a prayer on your lips. After everything they took from you, they will not have your life.
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iluvsturn · 9 months ago
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my dearest y/n-c.s
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warning:sad
a/n:i cried writing that..
"my dearest y/n,
As I sit here, engulfed in the waves of grief that crash relentlessly against the shores of my soul, I am compelled to pour out my heart to you, my beloved. The mere thought of you fills my being with an ache so profound, it seems to stretch across the vast expanse of eternity itself. How can mere words encapsulate the depth of my love for you, or the magnitude of the loss I feel in your absence?
From the moment our paths intertwined, my life was forever changed by the brilliance of your presence. You were a force of nature, a whirlwind of laughter, love, and boundless energy that swept me off my feet and carried me to heights I had never dared to dream of. Your laughter was like music to my ears, a symphony of joy that reverberated through the chambers of my heart, filling me with an inexplicable warmth and happiness.
In your arms, I found sanctuary, a safe haven where I could lay down my burdens and be truly and wholly myself. You accepted me, flaws and all, with a grace and kindness that knew no bounds, and in your eyes, I saw reflected the love and acceptance I had been searching for all my life. You were my rock, my anchor, my guiding light in a world fraught with uncertainty and darkness.
And then, as if by some cruel twist of fate, cancer reared its ugly head, threatening to tear us apart and shatter the fragile bonds we had forged with such care and tenderness. But you, my brave warrior, refused to be defeated, facing each day with a courage and resilience that left me in awe. You fought with every fiber of your being, clinging to life with a tenacity and determination that defied all logic and reason.
Together, we embarked on a journey fraught with pain, fear, and uncertainty, navigating the treacherous waters of illness with a steadfast determination to emerge victorious on the other side. We laughed in the face of adversity, finding solace in the simple pleasures of everyday life and drawing strength from the unbreakable bond that held us together.
But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, it became increasingly clear that our time together was slipping away, slipping through our fingers like grains of sand in an hourglass. And though I clung to hope with all my might, praying for a miracle that would defy the odds and grant us more time together, deep down, I knew that our days were numbered, that the inevitable was drawing near.
And so, my love, as I sit here, penning these words through tear-stained eyes, I am overwhelmed by a profound sense of gratitude for the time we shared, for the love we nurtured, and for the memories we created together. You were my everything, my reason for being, and though you may no longer walk beside me, your spirit lives on in every beat of my heart, in every breath I take.
Until we meet again, my love, know that you will always hold the most sacred place in my heart. You were my soulmate, my confidante, my partner-in-crime, and I will carry the memory of our love with me for all eternity.
With all my love and devotion,
Chris."
chris closes the letter, tears streaming down his cheeks in front of the grave of his beloved. God how he’d like to hold her in his arms, to be able to tell her how much he loves her, to be able to kiss her one last time times before leaving.
matt and nick are behind their brother.Crying too, y/n had become like the little sister they never had. By dint of coming every day they decide that she could move in with them. Chris and y/n got even closer and the same with matt and nick. A group of inseparable friends, a couple they thought were indestructible, but even if she can't be with them, they don't know that y/n look at them, her too crying from paradise, wishing them all the happiness in the world.
-🩷
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blackbutlerfandomnerddomain · 3 months ago
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ParaPines Prompt: The boys take it upon themselves to explore a seemingly abandoned mansion. But are rather surprised, upon entering, to discover that it isn't as abandoned as they'd first believed. Dun dun dun!
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The sound of heavy winds hits the old windows of the wooden house in the beautiful meadow clearing one late summer or early autumn day. A pair of small children, six years old at most, run across the tall grass and around the abandoned home, curly messes of brown hair bouncing and swaying in the wind and sunlight like bubbly twigs of tree roots or chestnuts popping in a fireplace upon the winter nights, their cheeks rosy and innocent of youthful heavenly glow of freckles and adorable sweetness.
One of the children, one of shorter hair, climbs up a nearby tree with a boyish giggle, thin rosy knees touching the bark as he climbs as the other sibling stands below watching in awe. Once on top, or at least the highest high point a small six year old can go, he looked around with wide wondrous brown eyes at the great wide space. A small shadow dance across the tall grass, causing the boy to squint his eyes into focus, it moves to a fro in gentle glide like a feather drifting on a rippling lake. The shadow, now easily told to be a boy of pale skin and black clothes of velvet and cotton, cranks his head up with the help of his thin pale neck and locked eyes with the adventurous young lad in the tree, sky blues meeting Earthy browns, clashing in beautiful harmony.
On August 3rd, I have met an angel in human form. My heart yearns for you, my soul burns for you. From your skin to your eyes, you haunt my very being And stripped me bare with bliss as my only coat. We may be from different class, we may be two men, But I can say in pure confidence I love you, Norman.
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Dipper scribbles onto his notebook, his chocolate brown eyes looking up from the beige pages across the wooden floor of the Mystery Shack at the group of teens standing by some bobble heads. His eyes were glued to a specific teen in a cherry red hoodie who laughs at one of the fish head bobbles, his long nose scrunched and snort lightly as the fish head moves back and forth.
A pink sweater hits the teen boy as his twin pops up beside him, “You’re being creepy bro bro!” Dipper jumps, instinctually pulling his notebook to his chest with a sucked in breath between his teeth with a startled yelp, and instantly scans around. “Wh-What? No I’m not! How is that creepy? Of course I’m not being creepy!” He ends his ramble with nervous wheezy laughter as his cheek warms up due to being called out. Mabel, who’s hair was held up in a glittery scrunchy held pony tail and dressed in a heart patterned sweater, grins wider and giggles, “Yeah you were. You were totally checking out your new GOTH BOYFR—” Dipper quickly slaps his hands onto her mouth to stop her shouting across the shack like a loudspeaker broadcasting his emotions, his eyes wide and covered in terror. Thankfully it seems no one is paying attention to them.
Dipper let out a sigh and removed his hands and glared at his sister sternly, who only laughed in return. “Oh come on Dipper, you should know by now how excited I am! I mean, you, and one of our best friends—” She lets out a little squeal, her fist shaking in joy as she bounces on her toes. The boy can’t help but smile at his sister’s pure excitement of his recent mystery: A Crush. Now, Dipper hasn’t had much history of liking anyway, he even used to make faces at the actors kissing in movies, his most well known was with their friend Wendy who at the time was a teen. But that crush slowly faded after the summer ended with both being closer friends than before, now he has a freshly new found crush in the form of Norman Babcock, a 14 year old boy from Massuchutes that arrived a month ago for a family vacation to Gravity Falls. His skin is ghostly pale, his hair dark and defies all forms of gravity in spikes and whoosh, eyes a frosty blue that almost shimmer or shine like a bottle of starlight. Dipper never imagined he would be crushing on anyone like him, let alone actually being friends with him! PLUS, HE CAN TALK TO GHOSTS?! Can anyone say jackpot?!
Still, he keeps it quiet for the time being, much to the pain of his twin sister who so eagerly wishes her brother can be open about his romance.
“Really Mabel, it’s not that big of a—” “It’s a HUGE deal Dipper! You two should be a couple now! You can have a cute long distance relationship, have ghost hunting dates, then go to the same collage, and get married, and—” Mabel was shut up once more with a hand over her mouth in courtesy of Dipper.
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“Come on, it’s this way!”
Dipper walks up the trail of the woods, behind him tow and in order are Norman, who walks more so looking around blissfully curious of the tall trees that are fading a warm yellow of the greens, Wirt, who’s height blends perfectly with the tall shadows of the trees, Dib, the more richer of the group thanks to his father’s well known inventions and in thanks to that he’s holding a special briefcase full of new gadgets for the upcoming mission, and Mabel, who comes along obviously with a skipping hop of her high top lavender sneakers. The Mystery Kids, a name still under construction but Mabel keeps calling them such, officially started their little “missions” of the unknown and strange around the area about the same time Wirt’s family arrived to Gravity Falls. Some may use the idea of solving mysteries and researching the paranormal as all a front and they’re really a group of teens who sneak into graveyards and goof off, but lots of Gravity Falls locals know the truth.
The group of them stand by the rusty gates with curious eyes and humble smiles. The building is square shaped with a high perked V-Shaped gray tiled roof with one large chiming poking from the side, the house is fully surrounded by overgrown wooden overhanging panels, the second floor is bigger than the first, which creates a stylish overhang on two sides of the house. It’s beautiful and haunting all at once, a sight to see as it sits frozen in decayed time in this beautiful meadow of dead grass and weeds. “That, right there, is one of the most haunted house of Gravity Falls' forests. Built in the late 19th century and was seemingly abandoned after the family who lived in it mysteriously disappeared.” Dipper spoke, making an effort of teasing as he wiggled his fingers while telling the last part, earning a chuckle from Norman. He continued, “They say screams are often heard, the windows open and close on their own, and hallways that change—” “EVIL DEVIL!”
The teens jump and turn around, half expecting a ghost while also half expecting one of the adults in the area, and were confused to see an elderly woman standing there clutching her cane in white knuckles furry. “An evil demon lives among those hideous walls! The Reaper always shakes when he walks past it knowing the demon will steal his soul!” She shouts, her voice shrill and raspy like a strangled pig, good thing Waddles is back at the Shack.
Wirt, ever so obviously uncomfortable when it comes to weird warnings from his elders whether it’s good or bad, slowly shuffles his way to distance himself from the fence he was just peeking through until he’s practically towering behind the more calm Dib who glances at him over his shoulder. Holding back an eye roll, the richest of the group speaks up, “What do you mean? Is it really haunted? Who’s The Reaper?” The old woman growls, spitting at the ground, her saliva ball almost hitting the teens who scurry more tense of the sudden attack even though it wasn’t towards them, “The Reaper was the most RUTHLESS man Gravity Falls has ever seen! A gangster who shot a rich man and kicked down a poor man for a deal of gambling, a trickster who conned the wickedest of souls for a mere laugh, a monster who took in some orphans was the one kindness his soul can allow! He was a robber of souls with the barrel of his silver gun, he cut off the lives of those who dare cross him, a walking curse of death!”
The group look at each other in various forms of worry as she rants and grumbles, her cane swaying in the air. Suddenly, a woman hurries over and guides her away. “Come on Grandma, it’s almost lunch time.” She said, speaking very gently. The old woman only shouts, “THE DEMON WILL NOT REST!” The woman sighs and turns to them, her head hung with apology and slight embarrassment, “I am so sorry for my grandma. She never quite shuts up about her grandpa…”
Dipper’s head perked, he steps forward, her voice eager for knowledge, “The Reaper guy is her grandpa?” The woman only nods, rubbing her arm as she looks at the building behind them, “Yeah. Apparently he took in her dad back in 1916 and since then pretty much everyone only talks about him. And also warn anyone about that damn house…” The boy looked back at the house, almost expecting someone wandering about to somehow explain such a violent reaction from what would be such a frail looking old lady.
The women walk away to the car that waits for them, presumably waiting for the grandmother, leaving the gang of mysteries to stand there still.
“Yeah I’m sorry Dipper, but I think I’m going to pass on entering that house…” Mumbled Wirt. Dib snorts out, turning around to the 16 year old. “Really?” He sneered, “That scared you?” Wirt’s dark browns narrow as he stares down at the trench coat wearing emo, “I literally survived a deal with an evil demon of a magical forest that turns kids into trees, I’m not risking staying a few hours in an old abandoned house with a possible evil demon that scared a mafia boss. I much rather stay the night at the abandoned yarn factory.” Mabel steps between them, her bubbly personality and colorful spirit and clothes clashing between the dark academia and dark clothes aesthetics between her, her smile bright as her voice, “Hey now you two, no grumpy faces. Wirt doesn’t have to go to the house Dib-Dot.” She boops two stickers onto their chest, a smiley face on Dib’s and a glittery frog on Wirt’s, her mouth puckered and making the tiniest of faint fart noises with each jab of the sticker. 
Dipper looked away from the three talking at Norman who stands still by the fence looking back in. Man, how can anyone be this pretty? He thought to himself as he watch how the sunlight dance across the darkness of the psychic’s hair to the pale flesh of his skin, dancing little kaleidoscopes of shine in his blue eyes, creating patterns never seen before on the red fabric of his hoodie to the dark denims of his jeans, and that perfect expression of curiosity like a black cat peeking at a rabbit hole of Wonderland. The younger Pines twin slowly touched a ghostly grip of his shirt, scared of how loud and hard his heart was pounding it was just about to beat right out of his rib cage and spill across the ground for all to see. Quickly, he shook his head so hard he nearly fell dizzier than spinning in a long fast circle in 0.89 degrees with every 5 seconds until he grew sick. “U-Uh, you guys don’t have to join me tonight…” He blurted out, feeling his cheeks already going pink from the near voice crack he thought he was almost done with being 15 already. He fixes his hair as he looks at all their faces, stopping at those curious blue eyes that stop him in his tracks. Just then, his brain hit a much needed light switch. “Because we’re doing different missions. I’ll stay at the house, do some EVPs, some ghostly tests, and prove once and for all if it’s actually haunted or something else is behind it. You guys can go to the abandoned yarn factory and try and see what those spray painting messages mean.”
He turned to Norman, blocking out Dib and Wirt talking about their little theories of the mission in hand, and with a smile on his face to mask the nervous sweat stains forming in-between his armpits to his shirt, he says, “Hey, you can come help me tonight? It’s, uh, it’s been a while since we did a solo mission, right? Ofcourseifyoudon’twanttoIcan’tforceyouIwon’tforceyoutodoanythingofcoursecauseIvalueyoursafteybutnotlikeMOREthaneveryoneelse’ssafetycauseIcareforallofyouequallyanddeeply—IjustrealizethatsoundedweirdandcreepywhatImeanttosaywas—!” His rambles were stopped thanks (thank whatever God or whatever exists) to Norman smiling and patting his shoulder. “Dip, breath. Of course I’ll come with you.” “W-Wait really?” Dipper just hopes he didn’t sound too eager there. Norman snorts, “Yeah. I can’t let you go into a possibly dangerous abandoned house by yourself now can I?” Dipper smiles, using every fiber of his still growing body to stop him from jumping up and down shouting from the rooftops while his fist punches and messes with the air, instead he settles watching Norman go to the group to tell them he’s staying with Dipper. A night with Norman, and I asked him without puking! Dipper let’s out a very silent squeal under his breath.
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Soda:  ✔
Snacks:  ✔
Phone Downloaded The Right Playlists:  ✔
Step-By-Step Plan:  ✔
Dipper checks each mark of his notebook as he hurries about getting his back ready. He already has his bag ready for his paranormal stay but he needs to hurry to get ready for his actual plan if the night goes well. And if they don’t die. That too.
As he places the phone charger in his brown bag, he scrolls through his phone of his well thought of plan of setting the right mood for him and Norman’s hunt.
First, he thought very carefully about the snacks Norman would enjoy most during the night. Bringing the cheesiest of Cheetos and already packed four cans of his top two favorite sodas on the bottom so they would remain nice and cool and not shaken by the time when they drink them. Next, he has already planned that Norman might be stressed or bored however the trip goes into the night so he is going to give him his cellphone to listen to his well thought playlist of Norman’s favorite music to calm him down and get a sense Dipper can totally rock out with him whenever. Starting simple yet basic with Skater Boi, just to give Norman the impression at first it’s random — It’s a classic of course — then it’ll transition still pretty basic but random of Sugar, We’re Going Down to give Norman that more comfortable feeling of “Ah, this guy has good music taste. Respect” , then picking up on some Paramore which Dipper was luckily to find out the few times Norman let him pick a random Spotify playlist shuffle for the gang to listen to while they chill with a song that Dipper feels will help settle the more “Oh this guy and I have have so much in common! He’s way cooler than I thought!” With Ain’t It Fun. All ready with a click of the screen button of Dipper ready made playlist under the name of “Favorite Songs”, previously called “Songs to flirt with your paranormal hunter friend who you have a major crush on”. FINALLY, after all that, all the thought planned into it perfectly, Dipper will take Norman by the hand (or wrists or arm or whatever) and lay it all out; “Norman, we’ve been friends for so long, and I honestly can’t imagine me being this close to someone until we started talking. I like you, really really like you, and I want us to be more than friends, will you go out with me?” Dipper fist bumps himself as he mentally rehearses the night’s perfect plan. He even picked a easily seen Level 4 haunted house that could’ve been exercised by any ghosts years ago just to ease Norman’s ghost seeing abilities. Though he didn’t plan that random old lady or it’ll just be the two of them alone. In a huge house. At night. He blushes and shakes his head, ending it with a self smoosh of his face into his hands. “Calm down Dipper,” He scolds himself, looking at himself in the mirror to triple check his appearance, “Don’t go having weird thoughts tonight. Tonight is the night and it’ll be perfect.” He smiles. He waves a quick finger gun motion at his reflection with a grin.
"Bang!"
Crows take the skies as a figure runs across the woods. The orange trees trapping the shadows within. Footsteps echo across the vast land of nature as soon the figure of a black cloak stops by the largest tree of the forests, a shadow slowly consuming him. Laughter leaves his mouth as two strong arms wrapped around him, lifting him above the dirt and leaves of the Earth’s welcoming ground and soul, and spun around. A howl of amusement and surprise snaps the already fragile air of quiet as they fall onto the ground.
Lips found home among as soon as their laughter died down enough, bruised and worn hands entwining with nimble pale fingers as brown curls blended with the raven darkness underneath. “In quiet nights, my heart calls out to thee, Through whispered winds where softest secrets weave. Oh Norman, love that sets my spirit free.” Spoke the hunter, lips now kissing each joint of the pale hand before him, “With every glance, a spark ignites the sea, Your laughter dances like the autumn leaves; In quiet nights, my heart calls out to thee. The stars align in constellations key; Each moment spent with you I dare believe— Oh Norman, love that sets my spirit free. . .” The two men shared a brief but everlasting soft kiss upon their lips as the autumn air drifted down and circled around them. Buttons of the pristine white cotton shirt became loose as chapped lips dance across the pale neck now exposed to the world, the forest trees an audience of such passion and love on display.
“When shadows fall and doubts may linger plea, Your warmth envelops all I can conceive; In quiet nights, my heart calls out to thee. Together facing storms we’ve braved so boldly—    With hands entwined through trials that deceive—    Oh Norman, love that sets my spirit free. So here’s my vow through time’s unfading spree:     Forever yours, on this sweet truth rely—     In quiet nights, my heart calls out to thee;     Oh Norman dear—I’ll always choose your sky.”
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The floorboards creak under the weight of two as Dipper fixes the brightness of his flashlight as Norman turns his up to the open ceiling hole created by nature’s random acts of destruction. “Okay, let’s start filming. Got the camera?” Asked Dipper, pushing some curls into his beanie as he steps by the large grand staircase that curves and goes up to the second floor where it seems a hole is forming on one of the stairs. Norman nods, “Yep! Fully charged and Courtney helped me get an extra battery if it dies.” The medium takes the camera out of his backpack with a grin, a boyish gleeful shine of his blue eyes.
Dipper blushes, the warmth spreading down his neck and up to his ears. Thank God it’s dark in here…. With a quick clearing of his throat, the mystery lover took the camera carefully from Norman and began setting up the settings. “We will start here on the down floor since the stairs seem broken and old. Sounds good?” “Yeah it’s good dude.”
Dipper looked at Norman through the video camera lens, silently admired his friend through the green color, and took a deep breath. Reaching in his pocket in secret he peeked at his list, quickly reading the scribblings of his handwriting in the darkness, and then shoved the papers back in his pocket.
First step, snacks. Dipper reaches into his bag, “Hey Norman, are you hungry? You know, since we’re going to be here all night.” He offered, holding up the bag of Cheetos to his friend. Norman smiles and takes it. “Hey my favorite!” He exclaimed. Dipper felt pride fill his chest as he stood up straighter, rubbing his neck he chuckled, “Really? Lucky guess…”
Then, silence swept through the pair. Dread whacked the brunette. Crap, was I obvious on the snack choice? He thought, afraid to look at him imminently. “Lucky as in a wild guess, yeah! You know, I remembered you mentioned it once and—” Dipper stops as he turns his head to speak to Norman properly, face flush in embarrassment and palms sweaty. He looked at Norman, who stood so very still facing the grand staircase before him, his bag of chips on the floor now and the hand holding the flashlight was turning white from his tight grip, his thick eyebrows were high up in a wide eyed expression and his mouth slightly agape.
Dipper’s brown eyes followed the piercing blue’s line of sight and shivered at the sight of an audible green glow before them. The scent of sickening decay and dirty water fills his nose as his vision stared at the figure of a man above the stairsteps, his clothes and the long pale green hair shift and waver like wind or ocean waves crazing across the manly figure making the float in the process, his eyes two white sockets streaking a black tear like substance as glistening fangs shine dully in the lights of the flashlight and the moonlight from both the ceiling’s hole and the large window to the left.
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The figure let out a gnarly hiss, the same black substance leak and spray out like venom on a snake tongue as his long sharp tongue wiggles about harshly like a whip. The two paranormal teens let out screams, their bodies crashing onto each other in tight grips of both fear and protection.
But let’s pause for a moment. I wonder what’s everyone’s doing in the yarn factory—
“YO I TELL YOU WHAT I WANT, WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT!”“SO TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT, WHAT YOU REALLY REALLY WANT!”
Wirt lightly taps his can of Pit Cola as he watches Mabel and Zim, both dressed in sparkling sweaters and hairs, regardless of the snortness on Zim’s end, held in scrunches, standing together singing into their flashlights. The group in charge of this exploration are Mabel, Wirt, Dib, and Zim, Dib’s brother. The group looked at some spray painted works of art and words, did some EVPs, and the mission was over rather quickly. BUT thanks to Mabel wanting to give her brother some alone time with Norman, she encouraged the other teens to stay and have an impromptu hang-out party inside this abandoned yarn factory.
Dib watches his brother and friend dance and sing with the shadows and dust bunnies, their hyper energies almost mistaken for them on some sort of high but clearly mildly influenced by sugar and bouncing each other’s energies, his face, much like Wirt's, is confused and mildly amused. “So much energy…” Mumbled the poet, his peachy skin a pinkish hue thanks to the summer heat rolls. The cryptologist to be chuckles, opening a can of soda next to him, “Yeah, but it makes this less boring yea?” The brunet looked at the guy next to him, a small smile easing on his lips. “Yeah. It is.” Dib smiles back, raising his can as a silent toast, and swigging the sugary cherry flavor down his thin pale throat. Wirt stares quietly as the shadows dance and sway across the thin body next to him, watching the inventor’s son’s throat jerk and move as he gulps his drink. Dib disconnected his mouth and looked at the one watching him, his brown eyes almost shining an amber color like fire or frozen sap from a tree behind his glasses that bounces light from the few small sources around him. He smirks, “Worm-Wirt.” Wirt smirks in return, “Metal Head.”
Meanwhile back at the manor—
Dipper and Norman ran across the halls of decayed wallpaper and weak wooden home, the ghastly ghost rushing after them in screams and wails. “In there!” Shouts the medium as he jerks his hand in a point at an old door in the hall. Dipper wasn’t waiting a second to think. He quickly grabbed the red sweater covered arm and pulled his friend through the door so fast both tumbled and rolled onto the dusty dark room.
Both stayed still as they heard the ghost move away, trying to catch up to their breathing.
“W-Was that the demon the woman mentioned?” Dipper asked, coughing the dust that filled his throat for the moment. Norman groans but shakes his head. “No,” He mumbled, “It felt normal…” They stared at the door for a moment, their bags open and left to spill their items across the hideous wine red rug. Dipper gasps and hurries to his bag, “Oh crap, the drinks spilled!” Sure enough, the sodas he packed had tumbled out of his backpack, shaken and dented from the running and falling. Not only that but the rest of the snacks he prepared have been crushed or opened and spilled.  He can hear Norman standing up and going closer. “It’s okay Dip, it’s not a huge deal.” He said, his voice gentle in worry and tender in comfort. Dipper looked over his shoulder and felt his very soul freeze. The room has a large window, worn and jaded, halfway covered by the dark curtain but still the moonlight shines though. The moonlight shines across the pale skin making a soft glow to the point he looks like a fae like being with dark for his dark spiky hair, his blue eyes now glowing frosty orbs. He was very beautiful, breathtaking even.
Dipper shakes his head and stands up straight and proper, turning his head right to try and get himself distracted by the thoughts swimming in his head. As he does so, his eyes scan to room and lock on a bricked fireplace hidden behind a weathered down piano. He jogs over, a simple push was all it took to easily move the surprisingly light piano to the side just enough to expose the fireplace to them. Norman looked in the barren pit, filled with dried and cobwebbed invested logs and dust mites that can be confused as some weird dust army. But there’s something there, hidden among the logs and shadows. Braver of the two of this moment, Dipper reached forth and lightly jiggled the top log until whatever was stuck was loosely showing off. 
Just then, some bugs of black sprawled out from their hidings, causing the teen to shriek and coil back. Norman, startled yet determined, grabbed the item and moved back with his friend, an arm stretched over Dipper’s heaving chest.
The two caught their breath and looked down at the treasure hidden and stared at some pages of many, thin and aged in fresh yellow time painted gracefully.
“Why would these be in a fireplace?” Asked Dipper as he took half of the healthy stack into his hands and fiddled with his flashlight and shined it through to give them easier chances to read the contents. Norman’s blue eyes scanned the yellow pages and black scribbled lettering, his eyebrows frowned as he mentally pieced how to read the cursive fine handwriting. He licks his now dry lips, clearing his throat simply, and spoke, “My dear, I apologize deeply for leaving you so soon, so abruptly. But understand I never meant to hurt you… This is the only way you can be spared. You, the son of the town’s pastor, and I, a humble wood cutter, were a chance a thousand years can never repeat. Two souls entwined and cursed forevermore. It was my fault Susan caught us in the manor, so it will be my burden to take off the punishment for abandoning God. For I have abandoned him, ever since I first laid my eyes on you back in the fields all those years ago, you’ve become the only Holy soul I desire to worship every day…. This is the end, my dear Norman, but I will be with you… All my love, Mason Driftwood…” They both look at each other blinking in shock. “Your name—” “Someone died for being in love with a guy…?” “R-Right, that!”
Dipper quickly looked through his pages, clearing his throat in a cough, “In the quiet corners of morning light, where shadows stretch and breathe, I find my love—Norman— woven into the fabric of every day…” He stops. He feels his cheeks burn. It felt too intimate and he barely even read it! If you found some love poems dedicated to someone who has the same name as your crush, you would get it! Fighting the urge to swallow the page before him, the boy continued with a quivering voice, “Y-Your laughter dances around me, a melody sweet as spring’s first bloom, enveloping ordinary moments in magic, turning mundane into sacred ritual. When you speak, the world slows down; Your voice—a gentle river flowing through my thoughts—
each word is a pebble smoothed by time…”
Norman stands there, listening to him read the letter, his head tilted softly to the side like a curious cat.
“In your eyes, I see galaxies unfold— stars that twinkle with unspoken dreams,
the universe conspiring to bring us together. Together we weave tapestries of shared whispers, soft stories beneath star-kissed skies; comfort in silence amidst bustling chaos….”
Dipper looked up and looked towards Norman, the flash light giving him a soft yellow glow beneath his nose and chin. They stand still, eyes locked, eyes wide and bewildered. The sounds of the wind blowing, the floors creaking naturally, and the crickets composing a symphony with the other woodland creatures outside perform the gentle ambiance between them. It’s weird… They’re scared shitless and confused yet this feels weirdly…enchanting…
“Dipper…” Norman whispered, his eyes narrowed as he steps a inch closer, his free hand lightly touching his arm. Dipper’s heart began to quicken in his chest as excitement and panic sinked in. Wait, is he— Is he going to kiss me??? But what about the steps?! I didn’t show him the playlists! The sodas and snacks are all over the floor— Oh God Oh God Oh God! Should I lean in? Should I stay still? I have never even kissed a gu— Well there was Mabel’s merman boyfriend but that doesn’t count! DON’T THINK ABOUT MERMANDO NOW DIPPER, THE MOST PERFECT GUY MAY BE TRYING KISS YOU!! “Y-Yea…?” He responded, trying to sound chill and not at all a nervous wreck. Their eyes never once left each other as they felt the air grow chillier. 
Suddenly, Norman shoved his body forward, leaving Dipper no time to process what was happening. The two fell out the window, the curtain trapping their bodies in a tangled mess. The last thing Dipper saw in the manor before he landed safely in the ground and rolled down the hill was that ghost who scowls and reaches for them.
The pair stopped rolling, landing in the golden green high grass of the field facing the fence they snuck through earlier. Firebugs float and circle around them in such a beautiful way one might dare claim it be magic lingering in the night. They stare at each other, the grass and stars creating crowns with the fireflies as one stares above and the other stares below. 
Dipper flinched, turning his head away as he coughed into his fist. “Oh ow, that fall hurt! Good thinking Norman on guessing the ghost was there!” He said in false confidence as he stood up. Norman, he stays still for a second, looks rather upset before he nods and stands as well, rubbing his arm anxiously. This wasn’t unnoticed by Dipper as he bent over and gathered some papers, even more as he watched Norman copy the same action. Crap, did I misread earlier? He thought in worry, feeling near nausea at the idea he made his friend and crush uncomfortable. “H-Hey if it’s about what happened earlier, don’t worry about it okay? I-I mean we both were kind of reading too much into it and it was dark and—” He rambled, and each fumble of his words made the knots of his tongue tighter. Soon, Norman stood, holding the recently picked up stacks of papers in his arms, his back to Dipper yet his voice carried all the emotions a face can show… “Yeah, it was crazy thinking… I mean us….like that…?”
Dipper froze. He felt his heart crack a bit as the quivering shake of Norman’s usually calm but sometimes chipper voice. “We should get our stuff in the morning with the others. I’m tired…” “O-Oh…y-yeah…yeah…okay…’ And with that the two began to walk out of the gate with the hiding hole they found to get in and down the path in pure silence. Crap…I really messed up…
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The two teen boys walk into the Greasy’s Diner, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and greasy fried food wafted through them like a bomb of different textures. The place was barely full, mostly those who are the earliest of early birds and those who don’t even believe in sleep. Norman rubs his arm as he slowly walks to the first booth he sees, causing Dipper’s shoulders to hunch slightly. “I’ll…go order some breakfast…” He mumbled before quickly turning his heel to the counter, his head hung and tail between his legs.
The second he sat on one of the stools he let out a sigh, hands already rubbing his tired sore eyes that ache and begged for him to cry the emotions he’s feeling right now. He sighs again, “And I forgot my wallet is in my bag back at the haunted manor we just escaped from…” A voice speaks to his left, “Hey, what did you say about paying?” Dipper turned his head at a blonde teen who stood with a pot of freshly brewed coffee as her hips swayed out in a sigh in her waitress uniform, her glittery mauve eyeshadow a nice touch that made her hazel eyes really pop. Even tired and emotional out of his mind, he can’t help but smile meekly, “Hey Pacifica…”
Pacifica rolled her eyes and poured up a cup of Joe and placed it in front of the boy. “You look like shit, what were you up to tonight?” She asked, her sassy judgment not gone but just slightly pushed back to add a more gentle approach. Dipper ignores the idea of payment as he accepts the bitter blessing of energy this warm ceramic cup will bring, taking a quick gulp and ignoring the very hot water and nasty dense flavor of untempted coffee given his mouth. Once he sets his mug down, silently thanking his friend with a nod as she tops it off, he sighs once more, deeper this time, “A Dipper Pines Original; Took someone out to a haunted manor in hopes it’ll be romantic and completely messed everything up…”
The blonde watched as he slumped deeper in his seat, placing a napkin beside him slowly. “Is this about the Norman guy?” Dipper’s head shot up. “How did you know?!” He half whispered, worried that Norman could hear. Pacifica rolled her eyes again, her voice dripped in a slight tease, “Dude you are so obvious. Always doodling and talking all fast and sweating.” Dipper groans and puts his head onto the counter, his cheek squished in the glossy wood. “I have no idea what to do anymore Pacifica…” He moped, his eyes already sparkling in tears, “I planned this night perfectly, yet I screwed it up. I honestly don’t blame him if he doesn’t want to talk to me again but… is it selfish to hope he stays in my life…?”
Hazel eyes softened. The waitress glanced behind Dipper and to the right. Her pink lip glossed lips pushed out in thought, her head nodding. Slowly, she led down just enough to not be obvious for everyone and whispered, “I can tell you this now Dip-Shit, but he likes you. Like a lot. I mean he’s always looking at you.”
Not believing it, Dipper crook his neck just enough to look at where Norman sits. And sure enough, even after tonight, Norman glanced at his direction unknown he was spotted, his hands fiddling with his sleeves. “If I were you, I would sit next to him and fix what I can.”
Dipper didn’t need to be told twice before he stood up, scrapping the stool loudly in the process, his hand gripping the mug still. He stops. “Pacifica, I—” The girl stops him. “Just come by tom—” She pauses as she glances at her wrist watch of bubble gum pink. “Later today and you’re good. But not your first three coffees, you boys had a long night.” He nodded, a soft smile on his face, before he took a breath and made his way to the booth.
Norman watches as Dipper sat across from him, his hands stop fidgeting for a moment. Dipper smiles meekly, eyes clearly tired, his voice a warm tone of tender fresh emotion as he speaks, “We can eat and pay later.” Soon, his brown eyes lower as he frowns softly, “Hey Norman, I’m sorry for dragging you out tonight… That wasn’t cool of me. You could’ve gotten hurt and I ruined so much and—” Pale hands rose up and shook as Norman interjected, “No no, Dipper, I wanted to go to the house with you. Plus, I literally fought a murdered little girl ghost at 11, this was nothing.” He ended his response with a small giggle to ease the mood. Dipper smiles, pulling his beanie (how it stayed on his head God knows—) off his head of brown curls and placing it on the table by his mug. “Still… I… kind of invited you…in hopes to um…be alone…with you…”
Norman blinks. “With me?” Dipper nods, his chest rising as he swallows the sour lump in his throat, “I…I’ve liked you for a while…a-and um…I think you’re really cool and all kinds of awesome… I was hoping tonight we can chill, hang out, talk… and maybe… afterwards…” His face was turning red, he knew this. He can feel it. From the base of his neck to the tips of his ears he was undoubtedly hot and redder than a new born baby’s freshly spanked tosh. Meanwhile, Norman just sat there clearly processing what his friend was drifting off to. Soon, his pale face turned pink. So pink it put Barbie to shame. No turning back now… Thought Dipper as he sat up straight. Clearing his throat, he threw the last punch, “Do you want to go out with me Norman? A-And…maybe…b-be my boyfriend…?”
SORRY IF IT'S SUCKY/SHORT I AM TIRED AF!
This prompt was fun to do but had a much deeper story of Mason, the ghost in the manor, died protecting his Norman, who was going to be revealed to be the mafia guy "The Reaper", from the discovery of them being gay. HEAVILY inspired by the music video of Take Me To Church of course! I was also going to reveal the reason Norman became a mafia guy was cause a part of him died the night Mason died.
I even planned a scene of Dipper and Norman reading the letters to each other until Ghost Mason crossed over!
I know it's random but I wanted to see what timeline would jump in so
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Yeeeeeeeeeeeee, night yall
Happy ParaPines Day!!
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girderednerve · 11 days ago
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watched the gay firefighter show although now it's more like the smug cop show amirite
if i were like really invested in it delivering on anything i would be pretty disappointed, so my sympathies if that is you. rough one this week i think
i swear we used to spend less time on police stuff? like i swear we did? but it feels like every episode now has to have a plot where athena has to sweep in to save the day with her Cop Instincts™
didn't write about last week's ep because i was a day late in getting to it but i scream-laughed when the sovcit stuff came up, because sovcits are the most annoying people in the WORLD & have this like charmingly ritualistic idea of the law, where if you lay out your incantations just right you can manipulate the power of the state to your advantage. i mean really you can only think this way if you're desperate or if you have that particular kind of reality-defying relationship to whiteness, right? so i was like, aw, comedy! and then no it was actually about how this one cop is sooo trigger-happy & athena was right about him & police violence has no structural origin except for, um, sunk cost fallacy
sorry but when they were doing the ridealong together did she not tell him that anyone could shoot him at any time? his unearned self-confidence, desire for acclaim, and tendency to panic under pressure are all really bad traits for a professional gun-carrier to have, but actually i think the 'everyone is a threat all the time' attitude is very representative of police, not least because it is embedded in their training materials, & it is extremely dangerous. so weird sidestep there, right? is athena ever allowed to be wrong about anything with stakes? bobby sure isn't, which is boring for both of them
either angela bassett actually has some kind of injury going on or we're flirting with an athena retirement arc, right? please let this be an athena retirement thing. i love angela bassett but i simply cannot take it any longer, i hate the police
that weird stuff with the cart guy just made me so frustrated: you cannot shame people into better behavior, and we really don't have to express sympathy for those methods; there is no genuine pro-social behavior which involves filming people for outrage bait on youtube; i am so fucking tired of the idea that if someone has 'priors' that's compelling evidence of current guilt, and i separately despise the idea that if someone at work doesn't want to be filmed for, again, an outrage-bait youtube channel, then that's suspicious
the rest of this episode was about how this show needs to make money & also how deeply important bad television shows can be for our viewers (represented here by a suicidal guy in the middle of getting a divorce & a twelve-year-old who's mad at his dad, love this depiction of fans). wow! thanks, television show! i, a viewer of television shows, did not know that some people take real & meaningful comfort from television shows, and am so glad to have had this explained to me! weird little self-congratulatory plot, didn't like it. i guess i enjoyed watching them try to come up with something stupider & less realistic than what they usually do, but if you like that kind of meta joke, sorry but supernatural did it four times in the course of its run & at least two of them were substantially funnier
when i said the rest of the episode was about how the show needs to make money i am of course referring to the 'is eddie LEAVING?' plot which of course necessarily had to include product placement for a shitty real estate website? oh my god. that genuinely did make me laugh, like honestly it is very funny, shameless product placement is like a guilty pleasure for me as a tv viewer who likes to be reminded what the real stakes here are (i.e., the budget). they had to put it in alongside the over-the-top cheese of their show-within-a-show because otherwise the clunkiness of 'their neighborhood summaries, you know, getting a feel for a place,' shoehorned into the middle of a scene about how he misses his kid & feels like he's failing as a father & is willing to sacrifice the close personal bonds he's made to better support his kid (who by the way has made no indication that such a sacrifice would be welcome), would maybe stand out? but fortunately no it was so so smooth. the smoothest. just great. we love to have fun
best moment to me was buck being like 'well if you're leaving i'm helping you pick a house, you have no taste.' mr. buck buckley has not grown any boundaries since the last time we saw him but look he's trying! & baking, scones. awesome
it is a good thing i love garbage & can only be disappointed this season by the failure to include a promo for a flagship feature of the iphone 16 :)
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missmungoe · 1 year ago
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This is gonna sound SOOOOOOO corny but your writing is genuinely the best part of my day, at any given moment I have andromeda unbound open on my phone and am reading it 🥺🥺🥺 very eagerly awaiting the final chapter, I hope you don’t think it’s rude, but is there perchance snippet you deem worthy of sharing 🥺👉🏾👈🏾
This is not corny or rude at all, I am delighted!! I'm still working on this chapter, but here's a snippet<3
The Red Line was broken in half, the once-impervious mountain range severed in the middle by a gaping chasm, parts of it still crumbling into the churning sea below. And where the holy land of Mariejois had once sat, the highest seat in the world, there was nothing. The white city was gone.
Turning to Luffy, Makino didn't know which was more shocking, but now that they weren’t falling towards certain death, she managed to get a better look at him, although wasn't sure what she was looking at.
“What,” she began hoarsely, her hand lifting to cup his cheek, warm to the touch, as though he’d just come in from basking in the sun. The pitch-black hair that had always refused her efforts to comb it down was bleached white, like his irises. It gave him an eerie look, as though he wasn’t human. And he’d had his devil fruit powers for most of his life, had always been a little unusual, but this had to be something else, surely? “What is this?”
Lifting his hand, Luffy turned it over, observing the wisps of white smoke where they curled around his wrist. His eyes lifted back to hers, still that pale, unnatural white, and yet the feeling in them was familiar, belonging to the boy who’d hated seeing her cry, as he told her simply, “I just thought about you.”
Cupping his cheeks, Makino shook her head, although wasn’t sure exactly what she was refuting, if it was the transformation or the fact that he’d plucked her out of free-falling to her death from a crumbling city. And she almost forgot then, where they were, and what had just happened, and nearly laughed at the sheer absurdity of it all, her grin trembling over her mouth, and saw where it prompted his own, lifting his cheeks and the little scar under his eye, and might have worried for the state of sanity when what she felt wasn’t terror but bright, reckless joy.
“Oho.”
Her eyes widened, as Luffy looked up sharply, and turning found Blackbeard standing by the cliff side. “What do we have here?”
He was looking at Luffy, a light in his eyes now that hadn’t been there before, even when he’d stat astride the Empty Throne. If every other part of him hadn't defied the feeling, she might have called it an almost childlike awe, as, “It is, isn’t it?” Blackbeard breathed. “All this time, it was right under my nose.”
She started when Luffy moved to put himself in front of her, although from the look on Blackbeard’s face, Makino thought she might as well not have been present.
His grin spread, splitting his face in a wild, delighted grin. “And to think,” he laughed, first a chuckle, before it deepened, his eyes filled with a hunger that terrified her more than anything she'd found within the walls of the Holy Land, “that I came here for an entirely different power.”
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f1ameheir · 5 months ago
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there was no moment of pondering , no putting it up to a vote.      when called upon by those who hailed from the lands of snow capped peaks and stary vast skies , aelin held no reserve in calling in that of  her most trusted to her side to venture to a world only she had once witnessed.      it was a debt she owed to the man who wrote to her.      the winged man who had slowed her that day just enough for her to return back home.      the conversation with the others not only of her court but lands vast beyond to the south had not been easy.     to ask for their help and walk into war yet again after the months of rebuilding finally began to slow after the victory of their own.      but after explaining in grand detail of falling through the worlds , emphasizing on the one in which lead her home , soon after agreement sounded through the meeting room.      and not a moment after aelin with rowan alongside her blood sworn , the king of adarlan , the two women in which aelin credited their victory against the valg to with their husbands beside them moved forth.      traveling through a gate that the queen had spent a good while in learning to craft and open with the old scrolls from orynth’s long past. 
she had expected   —   well aelin wasn’t sure what she’d expected    ––   when they stepped to the otherside.      the sun had long set over the towering peaks and yet the city before them glowed from the starlight above.      it was a sight that took lorcan clearing his throat to pull aelin from her trance and send them trekking forth into the city itself that held her in such awe.
whispers were the first sounds to fill their ears as they passed by the citizens of this place.      who could blame them ?      aelin was aware of how they appeared to the unknowing eye.      a mixture of fae and human , scented by places not of this world , with powers among them that had defied the gods themselves.      even offering soft smiles did little to stop the wary eyes.      thankfully the feeling of being out of place did not linger as a woman who appeared around her own age came into their path.      her beauty was remarkable and by which she looked at aelin , at those behind her , it was that reason the queen knew the woman before her was the one she had witnessed beside the man that night atop the balcony.      only , not as round.      ❛   hello ,   ❜    her voice that of civility as she took in the other.      ❛   i am   —   we are here to see rhysand.   ❜
@starseternelle get's a semi plotted starter !
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postguiltypleasures · 4 months ago
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My Peak TV Journey Girls5Eva
I meant to take notes for this, but didn’t as I watched it too quickly while preparing to move. I thought that the third season was great. If I have any complaints it’s that it was too short, and I wish they found more time to fit songs into it.
In the pre-release to the season, critics buzzed about how switching from Peacock to Netflix would boost the show’s profile and make people forget it ever started and was canceled anywhere else. It didn’t. As someone who really likes the show and wants more of it, that was disappointing. Contemporary musical comedy made for television may be a really small sub-genre for a reason. But I also developed a dark theory, which is that this cycle of revisiting pop musicians from approximately twenty years ago and condemning the way they were treated by the media really isn’t interested in dealing with the aftermath in contemporary life and that makes this show finding an audience harder. And while I do generally think that, I am unwilling to fight for it. It’s accusatory and un-provable. Also, it’s just based on my thought experiments. Based on more anecdotal experience, it might be that in the first episodes, the set up feels more sad than funny. This is similar to The Other Two, a show of I’d consider its cousin. Both can trace their roots to Saturday Night Live, both are show-biz satires about the not great effect of long term commercial failure on its main characters and an industry morphing at a rapid speed. I am a fan of both, but have to admit I can see why they’d be off putting for many viewers, especially in their early episodes.
Instead of speculating on why it didn't hit that big, I am going to praise what I liked about the series, showing my appreciation as long as I can. The season’s arc was about a failed attempt to do a small tour after the release but lack of promotional support of the album that they spent most of season two making. That season ended with a song they wrote about Fort Worth, Texas simply because it’s the largest American city that didn’t have a song about it. So their “tour” starts with an extended residency in Fort Worth, where they are adored, but not reaching their full potential. This is underlined symbolically by them staying at the Marriott Hotel’s Divorced Dad Suits. (They stay for free courtesy Gloria’s credit card points.) I love everything about the Divorced Dad Suites’ especially the vending machine of already wrapped birthday gifts. (Summer advising one of the divorced dads on what to purchase from it makes me smile to think of months later.)
When they finally leave Fort Worth they arrange a tour of small clubs, excited to meet with more of their under-served and dispersed fan base. Wiki also books them to play Radio City Music Hall on Thanksgiving Day, giving them the goal of trying to sell tickets there before the date. Only it turns out that the clubs they are touring are all owned by an ultra right wing family (represented by John Ealy as some one eager to force himself into meetings between pregnant people and their doctors, while otherwise being a miserable closet case) who demands approval of the content of their shows. When they defy this by performing their original song “BPE (Big Pussy Energy)” a “Footloose” is declared on them banning them from all their potential future gigs. The declaration of a “Footloose” also has me laughing months later. Awful as he was, I wanted more of John Ealy and his character.
Between being forced to cancel most of their tour and the season climax at Radio City, they visit Wiki’s parents in Maryland, take part in a private birthday for a rich wife, and befriend the biggest male pop singer of their time.
Summer gets involved with a multi-level marketing business to try and make more money while the band's tour is cancelled. while trying to develop a sense of self away from men and religion. She’s adorable. She also is deeply unsure of her taste and gets some validation in loving something literally everyone else thinks is a bad idea. Busy Philips has never been better.
Wiki’s parents turn who are affluent. All the talk about her “Hard Scrabble” up bringing was puns and misdirection. Her dad is buying a boat to retire on and enjoys crabbing. She has very successful sibling in medicine. She wondered if some of her failures in show business are because she’s too coddled at home. But we learn more about her DOA solo career, some of which demands scenes between her and Summer, a plot important rarity. It deepened the dynamics in the group in some interesting ways. Renee Elise Goldsberry is as always a treasure and its exciting to see her reach for new successes after previous failures to launch.
Dawn kind of feels like an afterthought in this season. This is probably because she’s not trying to write for most of the season. Instead her arc, such as it is, is about being pregnant while touring and finding herself in situations where she awkwardly struggles with how to talk about the conversation that sometimes fuel her songwriting. It’s kind of awkward and doesn’t really have a payoff, unless you count the song written near the end of the season. I do like a lot off this plot in theory. I like the acknowledgment that it’s sometimes harder to address things directly than through art. And that as much of the pernicious things we want to attribute to art are already well ingrained into the society that produced them. I just want more Sara Bareilles.
Finally it’s time to talk about Gloria. Her story involves being obsessed with true crime podcasts, a direct to streaming reality series called Critter Mouth about a veterinary dentist for wild animals, becoming friends with the worlds biggest male pop star of the moment while not recognizing him because of her indifference to men, and a quest to determine what I kind of woman she is most suited to by sleeping with all 179 types in existence. (She has a spreadsheet). Amazingly, all these plots come together in hilarious climaxes. Breaking women into different types in general is not funny, but the fact that the number of types is 179, and this is apparently well known is funny. Also it led to a very good Reel Paula Pell and her wife made.
The season had some good jokes about Netflix through it’s in universe version of the series and recognizable versions of Netflix hits. It makes me sad to think of Girls5Eva not thriving among them.
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msfcatlover · 1 year ago
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Hello there! This is the first post I’ve made for the Talon!Jason AU; it’s been sitting on the list in my pinned post for a while, but I always have so many ideas for stories that I have a hard time knowing where to start talking about them; it’s a lot easier to make my thoughts feel coherent when I have something to jump off of, even if that something is just someone else asking “Can you explain this concept?” Which doesn’t make a lot of sense, that I do a better job writing a pitch/summary when asked than I do when trying by myself, but. That’s just how my brain works, I guess.
Questions answered beneath the cut!
Shiela absolutely dies from the explosion. She knows too much, plus it helps explain why “Jason” didn’t manage to escape the bomb. She’s even still alive, just barely, when Bruce arrives from chasing down the false lead the Court planted to keep him away from their meeting. Her last words are, “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t know…” and it’s all Bruce can do to keep from shaking this dying woman when he demands to know where his son is. Shiela is too far gone to be coherent at that point, just echoing Jason’s name before mumbling another apology and slipping into unconsciousness. Leaving Bruce to dig through the still smoldering rubble for a boy who isn’t there. (There’s enough charred meat to roughly match Jason’s body mass, plenty of it fused to the remains of the Robin costume. The blood that was left on the floor is a mix of Jason’s & Shiela’s, with gloved handprints in about Jason’s size with much more of Jason’s blood than Shiela’s on them in the area where the bomb was set. The arm they hacked off was placed in front of the bomb, so that it realistically dispersed when the explosion went off. The whole thing is set up to look like Jason died trying to save his mother.)
How Dick was captured is one of the holes I still haven’t filled. He himself doesn’t know how long he was down there, between the drugs & lack of time markers, and I think the family isn’t 100% sure how long he was gone either (he was taken right after something came up where they wouldn’t expect to see him for a while; a big fight with Bruce, maybe, or taking on an undercover mission.) It took a few days for them to realize Dick had completely fallen off the map. To give my own estimate, I’d say he was down there ~2 weeks, give or take 4 days in either direction. (And oh boy, does the family feel awful that they can’t pin it down further than that!)
Gonna be real with you, I am going vibes-only for how I’m handling Cobb & the Talons in this AU; I might tweak things when I actually get around to reading the Court of Owls plotline/s, but I am halfway through Knightfall right now and I’m going chronologically. So that is a long ways off. I’m going with the popular fanon interpretation where Cobb sorta straddles the line between Owl & Talon. He was the first Talon, and he’s the highest ranking; he’s also so old & so knowledgeable about the Court’s history that he gets a lot of respect from most modern Owls—or at least fear, over having a Talon around who was never broken the way the others are. I couldn’t tell you how many of the Owls have realized Cobb only defers to them because he chooses to (and are too concerned about being seen as trouble if they ever spoke up about it,) and how many are so far up their own asses that they don’t realize he is, in fact, capable of defying them. So Cobb is several steps above every other Talon, but theoretically lower than even the lowest Owl. Except for how he’s an infinitely more valuable resource than almost any individual Owl, not to mention a status symbol for the Court itself, and those who are smart enough to be worried about him are also smart enough to figure that out.
Can you tell me the about the talon jason au?
YES! Yes, yes, yes, yes yes!!!
The Talon!Jason story is really heavily inspired by All Birds Have Talons, a fantastic little oneshot which got my gears churning with possibilities (as well as Talon’s Grasp, my all-time favorite Talon!Dick fic, specifically for how it handles the conditioning & Dick’s escape.) I just… snipped the Joker out altogether, and had Shiela betray Jason to the Court directly. They wanted Robin, after all, and she’d been out of Gotham for so long that even if she had contacts to know about the “wanted alive (or else)” bounty on Dick’s head, she probably wouldn’t know any of the details. She’s embezzling funds, she’s being blackmailed, she’s kinda on the run, and here’s the son she never wanted offering to help her with whatever problem she has, insisting they won’t even need to get his rich new dad involved if she doesn’t want to because Jason can handle himself; she doesn’t need to worry about him, because he’s Robin.
The Joker isn’t involved at all. Shiela calls her old contacts herself.
(CW: heavily referenced if not described brainwashing, torture, medical abuse, dehumanization, and depersonalization ahead.)
They’re not happy. Jason’s not the Robin they want, but he’s seen/heard too much once Shiela tricks him into the meeting, and they might as well get something out of this meeting. They fake Jason’s death with Shiela, the bomb, flesh too charred to get a DNA reading off of, a dangerous amount of blood, and hack off one of Jason’s arms before pumping him full of experimental healing drugs so they can stick a new one on and don’t end up with a one-armed Talon. (It never connects quite right, and Jason is always a little clumsier and a little bit number on that side.)
Jason wakes up in the labyrinth, fighting off the drugs & shock, with an arm that looks dead, doesn’t move right, and that he knows he should not have anymore. He’s not ready, his body isn’t chemically prepared for the procedure, so they keep dragging him back to the medical area, talking over him like he’s not there, and when Jason fights back, the punishments are brutal. There’s also plenty of classical conditioning, trying to train him to do what they want one step at a time. (He loses fingernails & teeth, because those are easy sources of extreme pain that won’t damage him in the long term, but he does piss them off worse. Jason learns that broken bones hurt worse when forced to heal too quickly. Spitting in one of the doctors’ masks cost him color in his right eye. The shock collar was just to make him put on the hood originally, but eventually they just… left it on. Food can be bought only with cooperation, and it’s a hefty price indeed.)
Jason does hold out for an impressively long time. First it’s because he thinks he needs to wait to be saved; they break that hope by showing him his own funeral. Then it’s because he needs to escape, though his attempts all come to naught. In the end, Jason hangs on because he listened when the Owls talked over him, and he knows they’re just using Jason as a trial run; he knows they’re planning to go after Dick. The longer Jason holds on, the longer his big brother will be safe. Conditioning corrupts that, though. Memories fade, names slip through his fingers, he’s… he knows he’s here for a purpose. Protecting someone. Someone the Court will also make Talon if he fails—no one should go through this, and that person is (warmth & sunshine, bright smiles & sky blue) is important, and he can’t… he can’t fail. He can’t let them down.
If he can just be a good enough Talon, that person will be safe. (This is what carries him through the training, the treatment, the cold, humiliation, and death, death, death, death, death. He can do it. He can be good enough. He’ll keep them safe.)
And then. The Court gets what they want.
Jason doesn’t realize it at first (of course not, who tells a Talon anything?) He doesn’t realize it until the base is under attack, all the Talons are woken up and sent to defensive positions, and he finds their newest prisoner in the middle of an escape attempt. He freezes for just a second, hands on his knives, trying to make sense of this. His voice is still hoarse from scarring and flat from disuse when, for the first time in well over five years, he says, “Dick Grayson?” (He didn’t even know he still knew that name.) Dick has been fighting Talons since he got here (and is pretty drugged up himself,) and acts on instinct. Dick strikes out, and it’s not until he knocks the Talon down that he realizes it’s only fighting defensively—and only because it stops fighting altogether. It just lays there one the floor, staring at him through that blank hood. “Dick Grayson,” the Talon says again, and this time Dick can make out what almost sounds like confusion in its voice, “You shouldn’t be here.”
Dick doesn’t know what to make of the Talon that helps him escape. Dick does try to help the Talon back (raiding a bat-safehouse to check both of them for trackers and to change their clothes. The Talon seems hesitant to change out of the uniform, even when Dick turns away and promises not to look. Dick still catches just a glimpse of the old scarring on the Talon’s neck out of the corner of his eye, thinks of how hoarse the Talon’s voice was, and feels sick.) The Talon stays with Dick all the way to the back entrance of the Batcave, but when Dick turns to ask if they want to come in, the Talon is gone.
(When Dick tries to explain everything that happened to the rest of the family will be the first time he realizes: “The other Talons, they were very formal, full names only. ‘Richard Grayson, the Court of Owls commands’ blah-blah-blah. The Owls just called me Grayson. But the Talon who helped me called me Dick.” “Do you think it was someone you knew?” Tim asks. Dick manages a weak, humorless laugh. “I don’t know, Tim. Maybe?” Dick thinks of the scars again, the breathy rasp of the Talon’s voice, and swallows. “Gods, I hope not.”)
It’s not the last time they meet, though. Not by a long shot.
(The Talon cannot go back to the Court, not after having the greatest failure possible dangled in front of its face, stealing the Court’s prisoner, and… and what if they try to take Dick again? No, no, can’t let that happen, can’t let this happen to Dick too, not after everything. Never, ever, ever again.)
(And gradually, the Talon begins to find Jason Todd in the graveyard of his own mind.)
.
I have several scenes I really, really love drafted (the moment when Dick convinces the other bats to see Jason as an ally. The moment Jason realizes what his connection to Dick actually is. The entire sequence where Dick finally realizes who Jason is, who Jason has been this whole time.) I also have a few concepts that won’t seem to go right on paper, like a final confrontation with Cobb, and Bruce finally seeing his second son face-to-face for the first time in years.
And it is, like most of my stories, full of holes I’m still trying to fill; I can’t promise this will ever resolve into a cohesive, fully narrative fic one day. But! I’m happy to ramble, and nothing helps me fill in the holes faster than getting to talk through things with people! So please, feel free to ask more if you’re interested.
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youjustgotpersassied · 2 years ago
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A comprehensive compilation of why Severus Snape is an awful person that doesn’t deserve redemption, pity, or any kindness ever (not in any particular order):
- He is obsessed with the Marauders when they are younger, and tries to compare their antics to the actions of very real, blood supremacist, dark magic-using bullies that Snape was hanging out with and found amusing. (Edit: I’m adding that I’m not saying James and Sirius were right in their actions, I’m simply pointing that Snape wasn’t either. This post isn’t about the marauders, this is about Snape)
(DH, The Prince’s Tale, p673-674, Arthur A. Levine Books edition)
“‘They sneak out at night. There’s something weird about that Lupin. Where does he keep going?’ ‘He’s ill,’ said Lily. “They said he’s ill—’ “Every month at the full moon?’ said Snape. ‘I know your theory,’ said Lily and she sounded cold. ‘Why are you so obsessed with them anyway? Why do you care what they’re doing at night?’”
- Snape was very clearly trying to out Remus and actively trying to prove his case about knowing Remus was a werewolf. (More on this later)
-Calls Lily a mudblood, and then tries to excuse his actions. Then Lily says “...you call everyone of my birth Mudblood, Severus. Why should I be any different?” Snape says absolutely nothing to defend himself on this statement, so we can only assume that it is accurate and he commonly uses a slur to describe other students around him.
-We know Snape invented Levicorpus, which we later see James use. How do you think James learned it if not because Severus had used it on him or another student before? We even see Snape use Sectumsempra on James. Sectumsempra, aka the spell capable of cutting someone open and leaving them to bleed to death. This is the kind of experimentation Snape did with Dark Magic.
-Snape was willing to sacrifice the life of a BABY without a second thought until he discovered that the child was Lily’s. Even after this, he prioritizes Lily’s life and isn’t concerned whatsoever about the life of Harry, who at this time is less than a year old.
-If Voldemort had decided that Neville was the Chosen One instead of Harry, Severus Snape would still be a death eater. He didn’t think being a Death Eater was wrong in any way- it wasn’t until he was directly affected by a childhood crush did he reconsider. James and Lily Potter fought for the light because they believed in the light. Severus Snape fought against the dark because the dark had offended him. Had Voldemort gone after the Longbottoms instead, Snape would have lived and died as the most loyal Death Eater in history. Edit: I understand that we can say ‘if’ all day long. The point here I’m trying to make is that Severus Snape is only supporting the light side because it benefits him in this situation. I’m simply pointing out that he’s selfish by nature.
-The prophecy states that the child will be born to parents that have thrice defied the Dark Lord. So therefore Lily in some way defied Voldemort 3 other times. And only now Snape wants to save her? No. It has more to do with the guilt he’s feeling for telling Voldemort about the prophecy. It wasn’t her death that phased him as much as how he’d feel if he caused her death.
-Snape hates Harry simply for the fact that Harry looks like his father. Have you ever considered how Harry would’ve been treated if he’d been a girl that looked like Lily? Edit: I AM NOT INSINUATING ANYTHING PEDOPHILIC. I am making the point that when Harry come to school, Snape saw him and recognized his childhood bully, and instead of making the mature decision and not making judgments about Harry beforehand, he just assumes that Harry will be like his father was in school. If Harry had looked like Lily, Snape would’ve been more inclined to favor him the way he did Draco or Pansy. Not in a creepy way, just in a confirmation-bias kind of way.
-Severus snape once intended to publicly kill a student’s pet as punishment for getting a potion wrong. This pet was also a gift to Neville from his Uncle for getting into Hogwarts- something that his family didn’t think would happen because he wasn’t “magic enough”. So to him- Trevor is a reminder that he is a wizard and that his family is proud of him. Then Snape wants to kill him because Neville got a potion wrong, reinforcing the idea that Neville isn’t “magic enough”.
-When Snape covers for Lupin's class (told you we’d be back here), Snape taught the DADA class and made all the students write essays on how to kill werewolves so that Lupin would have to read these when he came back from going through an incredibly painful time.
-Snape did everything in his power to get Remus fired despite the fact that Remus had spent 16+ years pretty much homeless and without a job.
(OotP, Percy and Padfoot, p302, Arthur A Levine Books edition)
“‘I know she’s a nasty piece of work, though—you should hear Remus talk about her.’ ‘Does Lupin know her?’ asked Harry quickly, remembering Umbridge’s comments about dangerous half-breeds during her first lesson. ‘No,’ said Sirius, ‘but she drafted up a bit of anti-werewolf legislation two years ago that makes it almost impossible for him to get a job.’”
Edit: So let’s do some basic math here. This happens in Order of the Phoenix. The anti-werewolf legislation was written two years prior. This would’ve been during or around The Prisoner of Azkaban. Why would somebody randomly write a piece of legislation like this? Let’s just say that there was a teacher that was outed as a werewolf and people were not happy about it. That would give pretty good reason for someone to write a piece of legislation that would make it hard for a werewolf to get a job. Not just Remus. Every werewolf. Who outed Remus to the wizarding world at large? Severus Snape. So for anyone suggesting that what I wrote below is as good as fanfiction, maybe actually read the books and pay attention to smaller plot lines.
-When Snape tells everyone that Remus is a werewolf, he’s not just telling students or their parents. He’s telling the wizarding world. Because of this, Dolores Umbridge wrote a law that made it almost impossible for Remus to find a job. So not only did he ruin Remus’s life. He ruined the life of Every. Single. Werewolf. in the UK.
-Neville Longbottom’s greatest fear is Severus Snape. Not the woman who tortured his parents into insanity, not the worst wizard of all time, not even any of his other followers. His TEACHER. And this is at an age where Neville doesn’t know everything about Snape and all he’s done. That speaks VOLUMES.
-Condones and takes part in bullying a CHILD when Hermione had enormous teeth EXTENDING PAST HER CHIN growing because of a hex, Snape says, “I see no difference.” After this, Hermione permanently modifies her teeth.
(HBP, Snape Victorious, p160, Arthur A Levine Books edition)
“‘I was interested to see your Patronus.’ He shut the gates in her face with a loud clang and tapped the chains with his wand again, so that they slithered, clinking, back into place. ‘I think you were better off with the old one,’ said Snape, the malice in his voice unmistakable. ‘The new one looks weak.’”
-Mocks Tonks when her Patronus changed when she fell in love with Remus despite the fact that his changed to match Lily’s.
-“Snape took the page bearing Lily’s signature, and her love, and tucked it inside his robes. Then he ripped in two the photograph he was holding, so that he kept the part from which Lily laughed, throwing the portion showing James and Harry back on the floor, under the chest of drawers…” She was laughing at her husband and son. People she loved dearly enough to give up her life and Snape took that and cut them out of it so he could pretend she was laughing for him. Her love in the letter was for Sirius who was the best man at her wedding and her good friend in the order. Snape took that so he could pretend her love was for him. This isn’t romantic. It’s creepy. Snape feels entitled to Lily’s love even though he’s done nothing to deserve it.
-The ONLY reason Snape protects Harry is that he’s under an obligation to by Dumbledore (who is blackmailing him, so Snape doesn’t have a choice). Snape isn’t doing it because he wants to. He’s doing it because if he doesn’t, Dumbledore could sell him out to Voldemort and he’d be killed.
-Again, when he kills Dumbledore, it’s not out of the kindness of his heart or his care for Dumbledore. It’s because he’ll be killed or severely punished if he doesn’t.
-Snape may have done good things, but it isn’t because he wants to. It’s because he doesn’t have a choice.
Essentially, at his roots, Snape is a self-centered blood supremacist who bullies people and only does good things when being threatened and emotionally abuses children because he can’t get over somebody he was attracted to in middle school and is perfectly fine killing adults and infants alike when it’s in his best interest.
I’d like to say that much of this is heavily borrowed or inspired by other writers on this app. I have tagged every user I have access to. However, if you see anything you have written on here or anything please feel free to message me or leave a comment. :)
@sadgaywerewolf @mrsmarymorstan @jamespotterwearsglasses @lance-the-kanto-dragon-master @coffeeinanebula @warmhappycat @pleurocoelus @madamebomb @thefingerfuckingfemalefury @whoopsrobots @harrypotterconfessions @beekeepermarycatherine @honeybadgersdontgiveashit @tonksnymphadora @barricadeponine @jadedlights07 @dobbysclothes @hogwartsandrec @kago-make-dean-some-pie @prongsmydeer @girlswillbeboys11 @siriusblaque @upsettingthedementors @marauders4evr @maxxiegalaxy @ghost-of-bambi
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jelzorz · 2 years ago
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127.
Rayla's back on her feet again, like, a day after their second child is born, and Callum doesn't think that's surprising at all because she's always been stubborn, but he does think it's ridiculous in the most amazing, incredible way. She reviews the guard with Soren like she didn't just birth a halfling, and plays with Sarai like she's not still bleeding considerably, and attends Ezran's council meetings like there isn't a baby strapped to her chest, and yeah, Callum's always loved and admired her, but this?
This is an entirely new level of love and admiration, and Callum is still wrapping his head around the idea that she grew both his children in her body. There's always something new with her, some incredible, impossible thing that she looks right in the eye and then just does anyway, and she handles it all with such grace that Callum sometimes has a hard time just keeping up.
It's been what, two weeks now? She'd insisted on getting straight back to work because, admittedly, there's a fair bit of work to be done in order to keep their hard earned peace. Sarai is with Barius today, learning how to make jelly tarts while they're trapped in this meeting but Wynn, obviously, can't join her just yet, because she's a newborn baby and she currently lives in the sling on Rayla's chest. Rayla's managing fine, of course—she's rubbing her daughter's back absently and bouncing a little on the spot to keep her settled while Ez negotiates trade routes with a visiting dignitary. Lord Palimore is old, portly, and not so fond of the idea of allowing elves free travel through his land, but he keeps looking at Rayla like she shouldn't be there. Callum's about to snap at him for it, but Ez gets there first.
"Is there a problem, Lord Palimore?"
Palimore flushes, sneering at Rayla but directing his response at Ezran. "Forgive me, Your Majesty, it's just unbecoming for a woman so recently given birth to be at a meeting such as this. Perhaps it's different for elves, but human women generally wait until their children are weaned before returning to work."
Ezran frowns. Callum starts forward. Rayla catches him in the chest, something dangerous flashing in her eyes.
"Unbecoming in what way, My Lord?" she asks coldly.
Palimore shifts, uncertain and suddenly far less confident. "For—forgive me, My Lady, but should your child need to feed—"
"She will," says Rayla. "And you will be respectful of that by allowing her to do so without comment."
Palimore wrinkles his nose, presumably trying to find a way to sound diplomatic. "My Lady, it's not appropriate—"
"To what? Feed my child?" Rayla snorts at him. "For one, she's asleep, and you're causing more of an interruption than she is. For another, if you have a problem with the concept of a nursing child, the door's over there. I am an elven ambassador attending a meeting that requires an elven perspective. I'm not leaving just because you feel uncomfortable."
Palimore makes a face and turns to Ezran, affronted. "Your Majesty, surely you wouldn't allow—"
"I would," says Ez shortly. "Rayla's an ambassador in her own right. Her perspective in this matter is important and she doesn't need my permission to feed her baby. If you have a problem with that, you can go."
"Do you have a problem with that, My Lord?" Rayla eyes him over the table, patient, professional, stony as the gravel in the bailey—something she must have picked up from Opeli over the years. There's an invitation in her gaze: defy her, provoke her—if he dares.
Palimore ducks his head. "No, My Lady."
"Good."
The meeting continues. Rayla goes back to bouncing gently on the spot. Wynn sighs happily in her sleep.
Callum hides a chuckle and finds himself filled with awe and admiration for his wife all the more.
75 notes · View notes