#creature roland

[illustratus]

Roland Furieux (Orlando Furioso) by Gustave Doré

[knoxise]

there are many things wrong with these men (i havent played library of ruina)

[semi-loyal-wing]

Hey, what are you guy's favorite mechs?

Aside from the nelson, since that's a given. I imagine the Saladin would see a lot of use in your line of work

@dojhr-noah-colorado-reed

That's an excellent question! Seeing at this question is aimed to all of us, I think this is an excellent time to have everyone pitch in!

As you guessed, my unbeatable favourite is the Nelson. You just can't beat the timeless design and systems built for the ultimate battlefield charger. My own frame, 'Radiant', perfectly captures the essence of this noble mech - an ancient heirloom passed down my clan for generations, maintained and cared for like one of our own. Sure, it has been outshone at times by newer, more advanced frames, but it does the job it was built for with grace and distinction that no other mech can compare to.

-Petrel Roland Levi.

Hello again! I must say, this blog thing is much more fun than I expected! Anyway, as for my mech of choice, there's only one frame I would climb into: My trusty Orchis, 'Nike'. Now, some of you might be surprised that I'd pilot the signature Karrakin mech considering my outspoken criticism of the Baronies, but just because the system is rotten doesn't mean I can't appreciate a good machine. The Orchis has all the qualities that helped me make my name in the arena: alacrity, resilience, power, and limitless potential in the hands of an expert. Besides, I am rather fond of its design; some may call it tacky, but I find that the shining plates and flowing ribbons lend it the visage of a hero of old.

-Petrel Helena Umarit.

Greetings! My name is Sophia Abramowitz, and I am the Loyal Wing in charge of this team. I'm glad to see you've been treating my petrels well, they really seem happy with this new pastime!

As for your question, I've tried my hand at several different frames, but I always go back to my first: The Arthur. I know, I know, Harrison Armory is bad, but frankly so are the rest of the big four. HORUS gives me the creeps, I would never be caught dead using anything produced by Smith-Shimano, and IPS-N... well, they make good products, but every time I try to squeeze into a Nelson I end up getting motion sickness. Besides, big sword is fun. You ought to give it a try!

-Loyal Wing Sophia Abramowitz, callsign "Blazing Sun", of Makteba Karda.

HELLO FRIENDS AND COMRADES! WE ARE SO HAPPY TO FINALLY SPEAK TO YOU! FRIEND ROLAND HAS TOLD US MUCH ABOUT THIS 'OMNINET' BUSINESS, AND HOW ONE CAN USE IT TO TALK TO PEOPLE ALL ACROSS THE GALAXY. NOW ISN'T THAT SOMETHING SPECIAL?

NOW, FOR A VERY LONG TIME WE COULDN'T QUITE DECIDE WHICH VESSEL TO PILOT. AFTER ALL, THERE ARE SO MANY! BUT THEN, OUR FRIEND THE CHIEF ENGINEER SHOWED US THIS FANTASTIC MACHINE, LANCASTER! WE FOUND A WAY TO MAKE IT FLY, AND IT'S JUST LIKE THE OLD TIMES! PLUS, IT LOOKS LIKE A BIG DOG, AND LAIKA LOVES TO RUN IN IT. OH, SAY HELLO TO THE FRIENDS ON THE OMNINET, LAIKA!

- A distorted, variably pitched noise somewhat resembling a bark can be heard somehow, despite this being a text post. -

AH, GOOD GIRL! SHE'S VERY EXCITED, RUNNING AROUND... WELL, UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN!

-YOUNG PETREL SERGEI RABINOVICH, CALLSIGN "COSMOS", OF MAKTEBA KARDA.

I like Atlas. It's cool. No more questions, fuck off.

-Syonov.

[melanorhynchus-side]

THIS GUY [italian greyhound + whatever the fuck his distortion has going on]

[rolandrockover]

Since I've Still Been You

I would be only too happy to dub our two candidates today as Blues Brothers in spirit, if this could not be interpreted as somewhat inappropriate or even distasteful for today's subject.

So, if my instincts don't deceive me in an unspeakable way, some of you will hardly be surprised that I'm pulling Led Zeppelin's Since I've Been Lovin' You (1970) and Kiss' I Still Love You (1982) out of my hat with the not exactly daring thesis above and asking for a little test of strength in the matter of "Who suffers the best" (1). And of course I'll take off my black hat and my sunglasses in this regard.

This is about men left alone with their love, and what they tend do with it when they ponder their distant lover in their inner monologue and give themselves over completely to what bubbles out of them. Which is not necessarily the most constructive path to take in such a case. But since we're talking about Kiss once again, we should be happy with this approach, as they have never been closer to the blues than they are here and now, nor have they ever taken a decisive step beyond it.

While Led Zeppelin simply try to get rid of this insurmountable inner urge, this unique Baby, Baby, Baby - I Just Can't Live Without You thing, in as many details as humanly possible, I am often only too reminded of the depiction of small children in cartoons who hold their breath until they get their way and tend to turn blue in the process. Which is also where the popular saying "Getting the blues" might well have its origins, as I now suspect.

Kiss' I Still Love You, on the other hand, describes a man alone at home in a dim, warm light, surrounded by the ugly darkness, which should provide an appropriate setting for someone who gets the blues in the middle of the night and tends to completely tear his apartment apart in the course of emotional outbursts. Only to be brought back down to earth again and again by grief and insight, and yet, one breath later, banging on the door to self-destruction, screaming for entry.

And despite all of this, the woman remains gone, even though she does seem to have a thing for men who seem to have a thing for the blues (or who also hunt ghosts), just in a slightly different way than Paul does here. Unfortunately, this is of the least use to him.

Any of such a behavior could easily be seen as an almost innocently childish (see above), slightly perverted masochism, dwelling a couple of steps below the normative existential level of romance, or as someone who doesn't quite want to accept that the sun has already set a damn long time ago.

It's not pretty, but it's probably pretty romantic, if you like being down. But do you really want to call that romantic? Maybe. And how about overambitious? Oh, yes. Absolutely.

What else is there to say, except that sometimes it can be helpful to just jump in the shower, go to the hairdresser, and get on a slightly higher wavelength, and whatever else you might do to win back your sweetheart.

Sometimes it works.

Side Note:

(1) The Led Zeps are more of the intellectual version and Kiss the more direct one, at least in this case the one with a good deal more muscle. Speaking of muscles, the drummers of both bands keep their distance from each other acoustically, and yet are able to remain on an equal footing in terms of ambition.

I Still Love You (1982)

Since I've Been Loving You (1970)

[brokehorrorfan]

Godzilla (1998) will be released on Steelbook 4K Ultra HD (with Blu-ray and Digital) on on October 24 via Sony. America’s first take on the iconic 1954 Japanese monster movie is celebrating its 25th anniversary.

Roland Emmerich (Independence Day) directs and co-wrote the script with Dean Devlin (Independence Day). Matthew Broderick, Jean Reno, Maria Pitillo, Hank Azaria, Kevin Dunn, Michael Lerner, and Harry Shearer star.

Godzilla is presented in 4K with Dolby Vision/HDR and Dolby Atmos Audio. Special features are listed below.

Disc 1 - 4K UHD:

Theatrical trailers

Disc 2- Blu-ray:

Audio commentary by visual effects supervisor Volker Engel and associate visual effects supervisor Karen Goulekas

Behind the scenes of Godzilla with Charles Caiman

All-Time Best-of Godzilla Fight Scenes

“Heroes” music video by The Wallflowers

Following French atomic bomb tests in the South Pacific, an unknown creature is spotted passing through the Panama Canal. Scientist Niko Tatopolous is called in to investigate the matter, and he quickly arrives at the conclusion that a giant, irradiated lizard has been created by the explosions. Godzilla then makes its way north, landing in Manhattan to begin wreaking havoc in the big city.

Pre-order Godzilla.

[roseshavethoughts]

Godzilla (1998): A Monster of Missed Opportunities

Synopsis- A giant, mutated lizard goes on a rampage across New York City after attacking a freighter in the Pacific. The disastrous event brings together a team of unlikely heroes who must save the day. Director- Roland Emmerich Cast- Matthew Broderick, Maria Pitillo, Jean Reno, Hank Azaria Genre- Action | Science Fiction Released – 1998 ⭐⭐⭐ Rating: 2.5 out of 5. A modest roar rather than…

[potato-lord-but-not]

Holy Ghosts plotline where the two go back to Harper’s Hill and Noel has to confront the life and people he left behind and come to terms with the fact that the only person Charlie Dowd is dead to is himself????

In other words- PotatoLord Lily designed just dropped

also some ramblings + some doodles about this plotline under cut

OK SO - for the sake of the holy ghosts lore, Anna lived outside of Harper’s Hill for longer than in her canon lore, and she kept in touch with the group after leaving for Arkham. Lily, Noel, and Charlie were all childhood best friends, with Anna joining their group in their early teens. As fresh new adults Noel and Charlie became law enforcement, Lily became a nurse, and Anna moved out of town. Charlie and Noel were drafted, only Charlie came back, and he didn’t stay for long. After establishing himself in Arkham with Roland, he wrote Lily often, and visited Anna when he could.

I still gotta get my head straight around the like. canon happenings after that. but just know I’m cooking ok-

for the holy ghosts plot, I’m thinking that after Charlie’s dad passed when he was still in the dreamlands, all of Charlie’s old belongings (that were moved out of the office in Arkham) were given to Lily. Oscar suggested they needed more information about these supernatural creatures, and suggested they look for Charlie and Roland’s old notes and the like. Charlie catches wind of their whereabouts, and the two plan to get his stuff and leave without drawing any attention.

From there I’m not entirely sure how I want things to unfold, but just know Lily definitely finds out he’s alive and hadn’t bothered to tell her. Between Charlie having to explain where he’s been the past decade, why he never reached out even when he did make it back, and Anna unfairly blaming him for Sarah dying- our man is not having a good time. and Oscar’s over there like man you used to live here???

anyway ty for hearing me out here’s a Noel Finley and the gang as youngsters :3

[leroiestmortvivelareine]

masterlist of aftg essays

mostly so I can find them - but you may as well have this too

Other Masterlists

Why aftg is well written by @feelingthedisaster

(the OG - symbolism, structure, and other examples of Nora's brilliance)

Numbers in aftg

(includes timelines for aftg events)

Plot insights

Parallels / exy positions by @atticusfinchismydog - also in the masterlist above but deserves special mention

Andrew’s protection was not physical by @awildtei

Andrew agreeing to go to the Hemmicks by @afurtivecake

The effect of cults by @cultpastorkevin

Why steal Wymack's painkillers by @i-did

Why Kevin needed to keep his distance by @cowbilover

What was Mary's plan by @your-local-mixed-race-bisexual

Fun lists

Jean’s awesome descriptions of everyone by @swampthingking

Unsung heroes of aftg by @problemduetest4life

Character insights *

(* many more are in the Masterlists at the top, this is for posts that don't fit otherwise)

Nathaniel / Neil - flip a coin by @neilljcsten

Neil as an uncanny creature by @sncwbaz

Andrew wanting to be known by @foxholecore

Andrew really nailed by @afurtivecake

Andrew and Kevin by @afurtivecake

Andrew and Roland by @afurtivecake

Andrew cursing Nicky by @afurtivecake (technically a fic but too perfect not to include)

Andrew and losing control by @palmettoshenanigans

Andrew and breaking the cycle by @palmettoshenanigans

Andrew's promise to Kevin by @coldsaturn

Kevin as the sun by @adaysgrace

Kevin as a bitch by @thatsnotevenmyname

Kevin as a temptation but never a connection by @jeanmoreaue and @afurtivecake

Kevin and Wymack by @fairvstairs

Kevin learning to live in the light by @odetojupiter

Understanding Aaron by @minyard-05

Aaron's need to feel normal by @interstellar-productions

Aaron and Andrew by @figuringthengsout

more Aaron and Andrew by @allforthegaymes

Neil through Aaron's eyes by @bloodfiresandabram

Dan as captain by @minyard-05

Riko hmm I wrote an essay on Riko

Nora's ec

The extra content (master link provided by @peggyrose19)

The ec link

on tumblr

Nora's now-deleted kandreil scenes (fyi scene breaks show as ".....")

How the fandom started and grew - by @coldsaturn

For writers generally

(because we all are, aren't we)

not aftg, but a list of most interesting essays

what emotion do you create from (quiz). I can send you the text of all 15 answers, if you're like me and want to see it all

Feel free to share others that you know of.

I'll keep a running list of anything else i think of in the reblog.

[comfortless]

MASTERLIST

image credit: Paula Mela, Adolf Hirémy-Hirschl (1898)

all stories depict a female + afab reader.

may contain content such as: horror (light), violence & gore, sexually explicit themes, etc. please heed all content warnings before reading. MDNI.

SERIES:

𓇗 Only Other ; historical au. Gothic soldier! König x Roman! reader.

One -> Two -> Three

SHORT STORIES:

𓇗 In Our Angelhood ; 10k words.

𓇗 A Place For Us

Frankenstein’s creature! König x horologist! reader. 10.6k words.

𓇗 In the Arms of Flowers

priest! König x prostitute! reader. 11k words.

𓇗 All That You Don’t Want

witch! reader x apprentice! König. 7.7k words.

Roach Head

slight role reversal, necromancer! reader x lich! König. 6.7k words.

𓇗 This Time Around

soft! König + house sprite! reader. 8.5k words.

𓇗 Deep Water

nix! König. 4k words.

𓇗 Hades! König & Persephone! Reader ; 4k words.

𓇗 Pygmalion! König & Galatea! Reader ; 4k words.

𓇗 Bull Hybrid! König ; 11.5k

+ unlisted works can be found in my König x reader tag!

CONCEPTS:

◌༘͙ lighthouse keeper! König & harpy! reader

MISCELLANEOUS WORKS:

𓇗 Spin Cycle ; Roland “Swagger” Kaminski x mercenary! reader. 3k words.

[alacants]

novandy headcanons?

what this ask is forcing me to do is confront how much of my conception of novandy is not my own thinking but was downloaded directly into my brain from anon bff who is the real expert here. like, i have a broad-strokes vision but i lack the minute knowledge of lore to have specific headcanons about specific events. (am i just a sentient sock puppet? maybe.)

ok my take more or less is:

for novak playing tennis against andy and then losing was frustrating in the moment but fun in the longterm. not saying that he enjoyed losing, lmao i think we're all on the same page there, but it didn't get in the way of the relationship.

for andy playing tennis against novak and then losing was very much NOT fun and very much DID get in the way of the relationship.

ever since it did novak has wanted and believed in the happy ending where they get past everything (expectations, disappointment, rivalry, interpersonal family drama, etc) and reconnect and have a special relationship again. just two old friends watching their kids play as the sun goes down.

the weight of expectation on andy—singlehandedly overcome the 77 year british men's tennis curse—was placed there by forces outside of his control.

the weight of expectation on novak—make my country proud, look after my family, make their sacrifices worth it, make my sacrifices worth it—was placed there by himself.

if as young players a magical wish-granting creature had presented novak with the chance to trade his future trophies for andy's health, there was 100% a point at which he would have made the deal, even if he later had cause to regret it. that moment passed. 

there was not a point at which andy would have made the same deal in reverse. and yet if you gave him the option of a do-over now, he wouldn't take it.

we talk a lot now about what roger's said about not wanting novak to crash the fedal lovefest. (even though—sidenote—if you ask me it took novak's ascendance to solidify the fedal lovefest, like once he was on the radar roger once and for all abandoned the dreams of glorious solitary splendor and fully embraced that rafa is GREAT rafa thinks i'm great rafa is my most special rivalfriendsituation. fuck this new kid.)

but at the time it wasn't just novak who seemed poised to do so. that is historical revisionism. in march 2009 the murray-federer h2h was 6-2. they were BOTH monster rookies and they were BOTH considered disrespectful kids with bad attitudes, and they were BOTH upsetting the established order of things, the established order where roger wins wimbledon and rafa wins roland garros and every so often they switch it up just for fun and they say all the right things about the sport and about each other and we all collectively achieve tennis nirvana.

(and at the same time they liked rafa and roger, to varying degrees, and it stung when they were written off.)

i'm just recapping bff's latest fic aren't i. well. they were right. flaps my sentient sock puppet mouth.

as far as novak is concerned, it was never supposed to be just him dethroning fedal, it was supposed to be him and andy, battling it out for all the big trophies and inheriting the mantle at the top and making the world acknowledge them. reality went differently and novak is still mad about it.

at some point, when you are mad enough that you can't have the thing you want, you might as well burn the rest of the world down instead. 

to this day novak really thinks of the two of them together on the same level! god this gets me so good every fucking time. #1 andy murray truther, i said before, and this is not a headcanon it's fact. "andy's the greatest returner i've ever played" is?? he???? and i'm saying that as a big 4 believer! (someday everyone who refers to the big 3 era is going to wake up locked in an interrogation room while novak explains his passions to them.)

i would love to know how much of current day novak believes that if he repeats this aloud often enough he will get that happy ending. 

PRIOR TO NOVEMBER 23 I WOULD HAVE SAID IT WASN'T GOING TO HAPPEN albeit mostly due to non-tennis reasons. i'm team kim.

but just when you think you've got it figured out, trust ultimate self-made cyborg-villain-hero-monster novak djokovic to knock over the table.

i genuinely have no fucking clue what's going to happen in australia.

[illustratus]

Roland's Descent (L'Épine's The Legend of Croquemitaine) by Gustave Doré

“The earth shook & gaped at Roland’s feet. He felt himself launched into space .. He heard around him the flapping of wings; it was a troop of afreets & djins.”

[justforbooks]

Who was Lee Miller?

Why the model-turned-war photographer is finally getting her due

A surrealist with an incisive eye, finding the beauty and absurdity of everyday life. A model who posed for Vogue and sat for Pablo Picasso and Man Ray, but whose fashion career was suddenly cut short. A war photographer who embedded with the US military to chronicle the harrowing events of World War II — and posed defiantly in Hitler’s bathtub on the day of his death.

Lee Miller was an American artist who remade herself many times without straying from the principles that guided her life and career. When she died in 1977, her photographic work had largely been forgotten; her own family was unaware of the scope of her practice, and what she witnessed in the war, until they found her cache of negatives. Now, five decades later, she’s the subject of the Kate Winslet-led biopic “Lee,” which premiered at the Toronto International Film Festival in September, as well as a recent monograph of her work and an exhibition at mega-gallery Gagosian in New York, where some of her prints were for sale.

Her son, photographer Antony Penrose — whose father was the British surrealist painter Roland Penrose, whom Miller married in 1947 — has made it his life’s work to bring attention to his mother’s legacy. He co-directs her archive with his daughter, Ami Bouhassane, and has authored multiple books about Miller, including the most recent, “Lee Miller: Photographs.” For the past decade, he’s consulted on “Lee” as it came together, and has finally begun its run in both the United Kingdom and Spain.

“There were movies proposed and very nearly made before,” Penrose said. “This is the one that we’ve been waiting for, because I feel it is a brilliant rendition of Lee’s life, values and personality.”

He still recalls how “bewildering” it was when he and his late wife, Suzanna, found some 60,000 of her negatives and prints in their attic shortly after Miller’s death. She had developed a unique surrealist way of looking at the world, capturing everyday eccentricities that play with the viewer’s perception: a scratched-up door at a jewelry store becomes a small explosion of sparks; tar spilled on the street glistens darkly like some deep-sea or cave-bound creature.

But her range was staggering. Here was Elsa Schiaparelli supine among two cheetah sculptures, and Marlene Dietrich posing in dramatic sun in the designer’s ruched house coat. Here was a crowd of people spitting on four women, their heads shaved, as they went to trial for accusations of associating with Nazis. Here were the bodies of concentration camp victims in Dachau, and the liberated prisoners standing over a pile of human bones.

“None of us — and that includes my father — knew the scope of Lee’s work, particularly her war work,” Penrose said of his mother. “She deliberately didn’t tell him what was going on, because she didn’t want him to be worried.”

After the war, Miller struggled with depression and alcohol dependency, decades before post-traumatic stress disorder — and its symptoms — was officially recognized. When the occasional curator or art historian would turn up to better understand the depth of her work, Penrose said Miller would deflect the focus and downplay her career. It’s only been through her archive that he was able to understand the life she lived.

“It was a voyage of discovery,” Penrose added. “It was like finding a person that we had not known before — way beyond our kind of understanding and knowledge.”

Reinventing herself

For many years, Miller was remembered primarily for her modeling work in New York and with the reductive label of “muse” during her time in Paris. She sat for Pablo Picasso as he painted her in lurid yellow and green, illustrating her “extraordinary wit and liveliness… and a very bold, confrontational approach to life,” according to Jason Ysenburg, a director at Gagosian and co-curator of the gallery’s show “Lee Miller and Friends”.

She was also often remembered — but not credited — for her portrait collaborations with Man Ray, with whom she was romantically involved and remained friends throughout her life.

“Those images of Lee were as much by Lee as by Man Ray,” added Richard Calvocoressi, the show’s other co-curator.

Miller has been described by many as a supermodel on the cusp in her early twenties, a period just before she met Man Ray. But she was seemingly blacklisted by fashion clients overnight, after a portrait of her by the photographer Edward Steichen was licensed for a Kotex ad promoting menstrual products.

“She absolutely came to a crash stop. Nobody wanted the Kotex girl modeling their frocks,” Penrose said. “She didn’t even know that the photograph was going to be used for that purpose — it was bought through an agency.”

Though Miller used the setback as a sign to shift her practice, sexist social structures continued to shape her career. Art historians and curators of the 20th century relegated female surrealists — many of whom appear in Miller’s images, like the painter Leonora Carrington and the photographer Dora Maar — to the sidelines of the movement when they were, in actuality, crucial figures; Penrose recalls that his own father referred to them more as “muses” than artists in their own right, despite their prolific outputs.

But despite the imbalances within their group, Miller’s time with her friends ahead of World War II was seemingly idyllic. She’d left Paris in 1932 for New York when her relationship with Man Ray ended, and then unexpectedly married Egyptian businessman Aziz Eloui Bey and moved to Cairo. When she spent the summer of 1937 back in Paris and met Roland, it sparked a two-year affair (and series of love letters when they were apart), that eventually resulted in the dissolution of her marriage.

Some of Miller’s emblematic images of the period show their vacations across the south of France from beach outings with Roland, Picasso and Maar and the model Ady Fidelin, to a picnic that has drawn comparisons to Édouard Manet’s famed painting “Le Déjeuner sur l’herbe” as a topless Fidelin is pictured alongside Man Ray, the poet Paul Éluard and artist Nusch Éluard.

But as Ysenburg points out, the tumult of the era had already begun — Nazism brewed in Germany and the Spanish Civil War broke out, prompting Picasso’s monumental and career-defining work “Guernica” which was painted the same year Miller returned to Paris.

“It was a community that in the sense that they were friends and lovers,” Ysenburg explained. “It seemed a very carefree time for them in a world that was changing very quickly.”

She saw ‘what we’re missing’

Many artists fled Europe in the 1940s, and Miller could have gone back to New York to safety, Penrose said. But she’d settled down with Roland in London and refused to leave, instead becoming a photojournalist for British Vogue, documenting women who were contributing to the war efforts, and taking both fashion and street images during the Blitz.

Later, she was accredited as an official correspondent with the US armed forces — one of just four such female photographers. During this period, in Normandy and in Munich she worked closely with the Life photojournalist David E. Scherman. Together, they entered Hitler’s apartment with soldiers on April 30, 1945, the same day that Hitler shot himself in his bunker in Berlin. Just that morning, Miller and Scherman had taken photographs in Dachau; Miller tracked mud from the concentration camp all over the apartment’s floor before stripping down to pose in the bathtub. She took the same photo of Scherman, who was Jewish, as well.

“Those boots carried her that morning around the concentration camp, and now she’s grinding the filth of that place into Hitler’s nice clean bathroom,” Penrose said. “They prove that she’s not there as a guest in his house. She’s a victor.”

Even as Miller faced the harrowing effects of the war across Europe — sights that would take a toll on her in its aftermath — she still maintained her keen artist’s eye. After all, she believed there was nothing “more surrealist, more mad, more nightmarish” than the war, according to Calvocoressi.

“Even in the most dangerous and demanding circumstances, she’s still looking out for weird, quirky images,” Penrose said. “I find that that so endearing — the hallmark of her artistry is just to see what we’re missing.”

Miller took her last assignment for Vogue in the early 1950s, as Penrose notes that she could no longer meet deadlines because of her declining mental health. But she didn’t stop photographing, taking some 1,000 photographs of Picasso as Roland worked on his biography, which published in 1958.

Penrose said that throughout the course of her career, she was always “looking for the metaphor” in her surroundings. Of the many poetic moments she captured, one took place in front of the Vienna Opera House in Austria’s capital in late 1945 amid the lingering destruction of war. Framed by twisted metal support beams and rubble, the soprano Irmgard Seefried is photographed singing an aria from the Italian opera “Madame Butterfly,” in what Penrose believes to be an image set up by Miller — who captured her with arms outstretched, completely in silhouette.

“In a way, it’s a reversal, because you would have expected the singer to be beautifully lit from all kinds of sources.” Penrose explained.

“Gone is the costume. gone is any kind of glamorization… what we have is this absolute passion, about the triumph of art over destruction.”

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[isalisewrites]

TERRIBLE, BUT GREAT - CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

SUMMARY:

“Harry Potter.” The cold burrowed into his flesh, the scent of cloying death and molding earth clogged his senses.

“The Boy Who Lived.”

A strange sense of loss and disappointment rose within him. That brilliant, yet cruel boy could’ve been so much more if he’d not stepped down this bloodied path.

Terrible, but great. He pitied this creature.

“Come to die.”

Harry Potter faced the flash of green light with the bravery of a Gryffindor and the broken heart of a Hufflepuff.

—

When Death gives Harry a third option, one that can save everyone he ever cared about, he takes it unflinchingly. Even when that means doing the impossible: falling in love with the enemy, Tom Riddle.

—

FORTY-FOUR EXCERPT:

Gentle crackles breathed across the lake.

The group rested on the ground after a round of drying and heating spells. Harry flopped onto his back beside Tom; his chest rose and fell in deep breaths. He let out a laugh. His cheeks were flushed dark, sweat and snow slipping down his temples. Harry sat up and ruffled the snow from his hair. Droplets slid down his neck, disappearing into the neckline of his sweater.

Tom couldn’t drag his eyes away.

“Blimey, that was the most fun I’ve had in ages,” said Roland. “You firsties are all right.”

Simon nodded. “You might make a good chaser next year, Potter.”

“Really?”

“Was a bit fun, I have to admit,” said Marcus in a low voice. “Don’t you think, Seb?”

“Tolerable at best.”

Puffs of smoke fluttered from Harry’s lips. Tom heard the murmur of voices, but he couldn’t hear their words. Harry caught his eyes and smiled at him, bright and vibrant as the noonday sun.

The chill was a contrast to the inferno. Tom’s breaths lit the air with heavier smoke. He tore his gaze away from Harry and looked out over the lake. Salazar, what is wrong with me? A winter storm must’ve been coming in; the dark clouds had grown much closer, overhead now, blocking out the light and warmth of the sun. The waters at edge of the lake went still with whispered crackles.

The cold grew bitter; it clawed its way up Tom’s throat and into his mind. Oppressive and cruel, it felt as if his fingers would break. He tucked them inside his cloak, but they wouldn’t grow warm. Twisted guilt and shame struck his gut. What have I been doing? Wasting time playing in the snow like a little kid? Pathetic. I should be studying or doing homework or anything else of value—

“We better get back inside before we catch our death of cold,” said Alphard, getting to his feet. He hoisted Quintus up. “It’s freezing without the sunlight now. Come on, playtime is over.”

There was a chorus of disappointment from the children.

A crack rippled through the air.

“What was that?” asked Roland.

Most of the group were standing now, cleaning off the last of the snow from their clothes. Tom brushed at his trousers, unable to shake the chill that was seeping deep into his very bones, despite the warming charms. Eileen fell against Quintus’ side, clutching at his cloak. She shivered. Effie huddled closer to Monty, eyes wide. The color drained from Cygnus’ face. 

Alphard frowned and put a hand to his forehead. “Cygnus, are you all right?” he asked. “You look like you’re about to sick up.”

“Why’s it so cold?” asked Monty. “Why do I feel like crying?”

“What?” breathed Harry; he scrambled to his feet.

Quintus went white. He dropped to his knees, taking Eileen down with him, and doubled over into deep, gut wrenching sobs. Eileen clung to him with tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Quintus!” cried Alphard. 

Marcus screamed. Sebastian caught him in his arms, gritting his teeth. He dropped to the ground with Marcus clutched tightly in an embrace. The screams didn’t stop. Alphard, looking ill, wrapped an arm around Quintus, drawing both him and Cygnus close to his sides. Quintus wept uncontrollably.

“What’s going on?” demanded Simon, his features twisted in a grimace. “Something’s very wrong.”

Roland shivered, pale as well. “We’ve got to get back to the castle.”

“Shit,” whispered Harry.

Despair slid through the cracks of his fortitude; memories bombarded Tom’s shields and shattered them apart as if they’d been made of brittle glass. The old memories flooded to the forefront his mind; they choked him.

‘You wicked, demonic child!’

Crack.

‘God doesn’t love little boys like you.’

Crack.

‘You’ll be sent to Hell if you don’t stop this nonsense of yours!’

Crack.

‘You ought to be more obedient, like Billy!’

Crack. Sobs.

Strength disappeared from his legs; Tom landed hard on his knees and collapsed back onto his heels. He lifted his head; tears froze upon his cheeks. Was it evening already? Why was it so dark? Tom tried to fight through the assault of the negative, awful memories that he’d long locked behind his mental shields. They shouldn’t be affecting him like this—he was stronger than this! Worthless muggles. They were nothing more than memories. 

“Dementors,” said Harry, breathless. “Get to the castle—now!”

Simon scoped a shaking Effie into his arms and grabbed Monty by the wrist, who protested loudly, reaching for Harry. Roland bolted to Quintus’ side and picked Eileen up. Alphard dragged Quintus to his feet and struggled to pull both him and Cygnus towards the castle. With grim determination, Sebastian lifted Marcus up in his arms and slowly made his way with the rest of the group.

Harry bolted in the other direction, towards the thickest part of the darkness. Tom couldn’t feel his legs, couldn’t leave with the others—couldn’t tear his eyes off Harry. Get up! He staggered to his feet; he swayed. The darkness swirled in the sky, fluttering wildly, and descended like the funnel of a tornado. Harry brandished his wand.

And then, Tom could see.

Dementors. A hoard of dementors, hundreds of them, beyond anything Tom had ever known possible covered the entire sky. It’s not a storm.Individual dementors dove for Harry. Fear gripped Tom’s chest, overflowing all other feelings and chasing away the old memories. There’s too many of them—he can’t hold this many off.

The dementors swarmed Harry, dousing him in darkness.

Harry!

“Expecto Patronum!” roared Harry.

[kidcataldo]

Strange Magic sequel idea/concept that will never happen (bc the original movie didn’t do so hot and also i do not work in hollywood)

small warning, this is like the entire summary written out

The Bog King and Marianne marry and combine their two kingdoms. Goblins and Fairies now live together, but there’s still a lot of tension between them. The only thing preventing them from clashing is their loyalty to their respected ruler.

This conflict mostly gets resolved with the birth of Bog and Marianne’s first child. Lets call the kid, Onyx (bc he needs a name). Onyx is beloved by both goblins and fairies alike, who see him as their true uniter and a bridge between their two very different worlds. He helps them to see themselves as equals and learn to coexist as one kingdom.

Meanwhile, Roland looks into a mirror and is freed from the love potion spell (his one true love is himself). After coming out of the daze and learning what’s become of the fairy kingdom, he quickly devises a plan to break up the now combined kingdoms.

This, of course, involves kidnapping the beloved prince who unites them. He plans it at the little prince’s first birthday party. Chaos ensues. Something goes awry and the “failed” kidnap results in the kingdom all thinking the prince is now dead. This assumption is amplified with the small wings of the prince being found at the scene of the crime (a protagonist with some type of disability is interesting imo, plus it’s important to the plot). The thought is that some larger creature ate him (and maybe that is how both he and Roland get their injuries).

Roland doesn’t get caught and isn’t the presumed kidnapper. In fact, he’s hurt badly in the confrontation, leading him to flee now heavily scarred, turned “ugly,” not knowing and not caring about what happened to the prince.

The kingdom turns on each other: the goblins think the fairies did it, claiming they can’t stand having a half-goblin heir; the fairies say the goblins did it, thinking they might have gone back to their “savage” ways.

Soon after, it is shown that their son is not in fact dead but rather “lost.”

His disappearance is easily explained with him falling through the cracks between the two kingdoms, literally. Somewhere along the border there is a deep crack that is off limits/folklore to goblins and fairies. This is where the gnome creatures live.

Neither of the kingdoms know this, because the creatures remain hidden, anonymous. Like with the goblins and fairies, everything beyond the darkness is off limits/folklore to them. But they provide “offerings” to goblins and fairies, which is something like coal for fuel and diamond for currency (things that affect their livelihood/economy, but the gnomes do it as a way to appease the “gods” who are really just goblins and fairies). They view Onyx’s abrupt arrival as a task from the gods to raise him as one of their own and learn the ways of the gnome people.

Flash forward to present day:

The kingdoms are more divided than ever. Marianne closes off on everyone and everything, leaving an equally grief-stricken Bog to rule basically both kingdoms alone (with the fairy kingdom not really liking him/disobeying his orders because, in their eyes, he’s not their leader).

Roland remains hidden in the shadows, too fearful of the way he looks to enjoy the kingdoms being divided again. His self-hatred turns to hatred toward others and he vows revenge, but doesn’t know where to start.

Meanwhile,

Onyx is a rambunctious kid with a skill for climbing steep things, such as the walls leading up to the outside world. He works with the gnomes to help mine coal and things, but is often bored of the work mentality. The constant “go! go! go!” is too much and goblins and fairies unintentionally pressure them to keep moving (again, without them knowing the gnomes are down there).

But he’s seen as the gnomes’ protector. And when one gnome nearly falls to his death after lurking too close to the edge, it’s Onyx who takes the lead and rallies all of the other gnomes to work together and save him.

He’s not allowed to climb too far up the wall (both because of the risk of falling and because the outside people are presumed dangerous), but his curiosity gets the better of him one day and he climbs to the very top, only to witness creatures who look just like him. He sees creatures flying and understands the scars on his back were once wings.

Curiosity gets the better of him and he wanders into a nearby village where he sees the things the gnomes work hard to mine being used for their pleasure. A rage fuels him at the very sight. It is in every way an injustice.

Roland spots the lost prince during his trip to the village and plans out his revenge on him, coming to the conclusion everything bad that’s happened to him started with his unsuccessful plot to kidnap him. He follows him. (He’s a drastically different, more evil guy than he was in the original movie here: the point of no return kind of different.)

Onyx returns to the gnome creatures quickly to express his anger: how it’s all a lie and how the creatures above live leisurely while they’re stuck down under working for them in the mines.

The gnomes begin an uprise with the encouragement from the lost prince. They take control of the elf village he visited simply by luck (catching everyone off guard at a party), but understand anything beyond that they will be easily defeated. Onyx, a warrior at heart but with little battle experience, is still encouraging them to try.

The Bog King hears word of this mysterious uprising and quickly flies out there to handle it. A fight ensues with Bog (and his army) easily outnumbering the gnomes. But he freezes at the sight of the one gnome out of place—his son, instantly recognizing the face. Onyx, recognizing Bog only as the leader of the tyrants enslaving the gnomes, throws a sharp object at his wings while he’s halted. And Bog comes tumbling down, his wings severely damaged. The gnomes capture him and drag him down into the crack to hold him hostage.

While down there, Bog is shown the hardships that the gnome people face and agrees something must be done about it.

Later, he and Onyx have a moment where he reveals that he is his father (after he’s absolutely certain this boy is in fact his lost, presumed dead son). His son is resistant to accept the news, and even more resistant of the fact that Bog wants to now take him away from the gnomes and live with the creatures above. He pulls away from his father’s touch, claiming he belongs down here with the gnomes.

Marianne, after learning of her husband’s capture, awakens from her fog and flies up with a fury to rescue him.

By then, Bog is no longer a prisoner and climbing (due to his wings being damaged) with some gnomes up the wall to return to the outside and settle this dispute once and for all. Onyx, despite Bog’s encouragement, does not go up with him.

Later, Onyx has a change of heart (probably after a gnome elder talks with him about it) and he begins his climb to catch up with them. But Roland gets to him first and kidnaps him (again).

Bog hears his panicked call and quickly moves into action to rescue him. Marianne, who hears it too in the middle of kicking gnome butt in the village, moves toward the chaos. They all find themselves near the edge of the crack with Roland threatening to drop the wingless prince. Finally, it’s revealed he is the one who did it all those years ago.

And Roland gives some long speech about never meaning any true harm, that it just all got out of hand, and that he just wanted true love but can’t now because of the way he looks. He holds Onyx’s arm as he speaks, his grip slowly loosening with the threat of dropping him in. Bog, in a panic, is trying to convince him to move away from the edge, that Onyx is innocent in all this. But Roland refuses to listen.

Marianne, witnessing all of this somewhere nearby, moves into action. She hits Roland, who loses his grip on Onyx. Bog flies with damaged wings to catch him before he falls into the darkness.

A fight ensues between Roland and the king and queen. Fairies and goblins alike witness this, their leaders’ first fight together in years. Somehow Roland’s wings get damaged, leading him to hang off the edge with no way of getting himself up. His hands are slipping and he’s pleading for the king and queen to show him mercy. Both Bog and Marianne are unwilling to help, wanting him to fall to his death; he was the cause of all their pain, after all.

Onyx quickly moves into action, rallying the gnomes to work together and save him (just like at the start), much to everyone’s surprise. They’re able to lift him to safety. Roland is crying out his gratitude as Stuff and Thang apprehend him with some fairytale version of handcuffs. Everyone looks to Bog for his sentencing, thinking execution is what he’ll go for. He approaches the fairy with gritted teeth. He wants to attack him, but holds back: “My son deems ya worthy of livin’, so you’ll rot in my dungeon fer the rest of yer days.” Or something like that, idk.

The story concludes at yet another birthday party where the gnomes coexist now with the fairies and goblins, learning how to stop worshipping them as these otherworldly beings. Maybe Griselda takes advantage of their innocence and puts them to work, making them be her chair and hold her drink for her while she sips it. And Dawn has to interfere by scolding her, releasing the gnomes from duty. Bog and Marianne have a heartfelt moment alone and then with their son. And also maybe it’s shown that in the dungeon Roland finds love/friendship somehow with the imp (who, of course, is in prison too), again idk.

The kingdom is once again at peace. The story ends.

—

Anyway, that’s my idea. It’s very different from the enemies to lovers plot in the first movie, but i still think it’s a cool/interesting idea to explore. Too busy with real life to write this fanfic out fully, so you get this instead.

[drybloode]

I absolutely adore how you draw Heathcliff (and also Roland)!! Your drawings always make me smile when I see them! And your Öufi!Heathcliffs are adorable.

Would it be alright for me to gently wrap our favorite Heathcliff creature in a blanket? He needs to be warm and cozy ... he'll catch cold if he isn't careful!

Awww thank you so much!!!

Here have a burrito heathcliff