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dennisasp · 2 years ago

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Harry Potter Nerd Trip til London

New Post has been published on https://dennisasp.dk/harry-potter-nerd-trip-til-london/

Harry Potter Nerd Trip til London

Allerede tilbage i 2020 havde jeg planer om en Harry Potter London Nørd tur med en nær ven, men som alle nok husker, var vi alle sammen i sommerhus i Jylland den sommer. Turen var dog ikke glemt, og efteråret 2022 blev det en realitet.

Hovedformålet var at se teaterstykker Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, men det var lige voldsomt nok at tage helt til London med det ene formål. Jeg havde været i London otte gange tidligere (det kan du læse om her), så jeg havde allerede set de mest almindelige seværdigheder og lidt til. Så det endte med at være en rendyrket Harry Potter tur til London.

The Making of Harry Potter / Warner Brothers Studio Tour

Den første erfaring vi kan give videre er: Book i god tid! Vi havde nær ikke fået billetter, da man åbenbart skal booke 2-3 måneder i forvejen. Dog er der indimellem nogen der rykker deres bestillinger, og så dukker der alligevel noget op. Vi tjekkede hjemmesiden flere gange dagligt og lykkedes til sidst med at få to billetter. Vi havde adgang kl. 14:00, hvilket var fint. Men er du en hardcore will not miss a thing fan, så forsøg at booke med adgang når de åbner.

Bussen til studiet. Foto: Maila Walmod

Studierne ligger i Leavesden i det nordvestlige London. Det er let at komme dertil, enten med den gratis shuttlebus fra Watford Junction, i bil eller med bus fra London. Sidstnævnte kan fås som en samlet pakke med billetterne.

Jeg var der selv for første gang i 2016 med en ungdomsskolegruppe, og jeg mindes at vi var der 3 timer. Allerede der havde jeg besluttet, at jeg gerne ville tilbage og have bedre tid. Og det var en god beslutning.

Da vi var der tæt på juletid, var hele oplevelsen tematiseret efter ”Hogwarts in the Snow” – altså magisk hvid jul. Og det var fuldstændigt magisk! Det gjorde hele oplevelsen både bedre og anderledes, og oveni det var der en del nye ting.

Hvad kan man forvente?

London Harry Potter Tour Storsalen. Foto: Maila Walmod

Allerede når man når til Watford Junction, kan man se andre fans iklædt Hogwarts-skoleuniformer. Så inkarnerede var vi dog ikke. Når man træder forbi garderoben mv., bliver man som det første mødt af en fuldskala Ukrainsk Jernmave (dragen trioen flygter fra Gringotts på), inden man kan styre ind i caféen eller begynde turen. Her får man en kort videoinstruks af Fred og George, inden lærredet glider op, og afslører den store dør ind til storsalen. Under vores besøg var den dekoreret med juletræer, julemiddag og isskulpturen fra juleballet i Flammernes Pokal. Det er overvældende, især hvis man forventer at storsalen er filmtricks – det er den slet ikke! Herfra kan man ellers bevæge sig videre rundt mellem kostumer, rekvisitter og udstillinger af scener såsom Gryffindors sovesal, fællesrummet, Dumbledores kontor, eliksirklasselokalet og mange flere. Så kan man blandt andet lære, det lokale både har været rummet med den trehovedede hund, Fluffy, i 1’eren, Snapes kontor i 2’eren og et meget større klasselokale i 6’eren.

Crypten og eliksir klasselokalet

Hogwarts Ekspressen

Desværre er det kun udsnit af Ministeriet for Magi og den forbudte skov, der er udstillet, da de ellers ville være enorme. Flere af skuespillerne forklarer ellers, at de elskede at træde ind i Ministeriet for Magi alene pga. dets enorme størrelse. De er stadig ret fantastiske, og vil man have noget stort, kan man se frem til platform 9 3/4 og Hogwartsekspressen. Desuden finder man det indvendige af Gringotts i fuld størrelse. Det var oprindeligt ellers filmet i Australia House, London, men det var lettere for crewet at bygge deres eget – plus endnu et der ligger i ruiner til den sidste film. Og så kommer man selvfølgelig en tur gennem Diagonalstræde, inden man når til den episke Hogwarts model i 1:24 skala – altså ca. 15 meter høj.

Desuden er der masser af figurer og tegninger mv., der viser processen bag en stor filmserie som Harry Potter. Vidste du, at plantegningen over slottet blev ændret løbende? Den store bro, dødsgardisterne angriber fra, gik oprindeligt til et andet sted i slottet, men blev ændret i film 8, da der ikke rigtigt var nogen indgange til slottet. Drivhusene blev tilføjet til Hemmelighedernes Kammer, ligesom slagpoplen også er flyttet undervejs. Det kunne en af guiderne fortælle en masse om, og han var endda så venlig at vise nogen af de originale tegninger frem for os.

Vi måtte gå lidt hurtigt igennem den enorme butik til sidst, for at nå den sidste bus ved lukketid. Så havde vi også brugt hele dagen der. Men vi nåede dog at få aftensmad med butterbeer, hvilket i øvrigt smager helt fantastisk.

Den fantastiske Hogwarts model

Teater og Tour

Andendag gik rundt i byen til fods forud for teaterstykket om aftenen. Vi startede på Kings Cross (st. Pancreas) og gik i Platform 9 ¾-butikken. Den var heldigvis uden kø ved dørene, sådan som da jeg besøgte butikken i 2019. Herefter gik vi til spor 3 og 4, som er spor 9 og 10 i filmen. Det var desværre ikke muligt at komme derind uden togbilletter, men det havde jeg heldigvis været tidligere. Så gik vi lige over gaden til St. Pancras Renaissance Hotel – den bygning der udgør ydersiden af Kings Cross i Hemmelighedernes Kammer, hvor Ron og Harry flyver i Mr. Weasleys lyseblå Ford Anglia. Næste stop var Claremont Square ikke så lang fra stationen, hvor Grumsted Plads (Grimmauld Place) 12 er filmet. Man kan både se bygningerne der skal være nr. 11 og 13 samt parken, hvorfra Fønixordenen kommer ud, inden deres hemmelige skjulested kommer til syne. Mugglere kan naturligvis ikke se nummer 12. Om aftenen havde vi billetter til turens hovedattraktion: Harry Potter og det forbandede barn (Harry Potter and the Cursed Child). Det var ufatteligt godt lavet. Englænderne kan noget med teater, og effekterne til både tidsrejser, tryllestave, troldmænd der bliver spist af bogreoler, undervandsscener og rejser med susenetværket var helt fantastiske. Historien kendte jeg selvfølgelig, da jeg havde læst manuskriptet 2-3 gange, men jeg kunne dog alligevel ikke helt huske det. Og nu vi så lige var i nærheden af Leicester Square, tog vi lige et billede med Harry Potter statuen og gik i den enorme Lego-butik, der selvfølgelig havde nogle kæmpe Harry Potter Lego udstillinger. Som noget helt nyt for mig, var der også et rigtig fint julemarked på Leicester Square, som vi gik en lille runde i.

Den Utætte Kedel og Ministeriet for Magi

På dag 3 gik vi rundt i byen i eget tempo, og så et par af de gængse seværdigheder og parker, og fik selskab af både egern, duer og nogle undulatagtige fugle, der alle kravlede på os. Herefter ville vi besøge Ministeriet for Magi, men desværre var telefonboksen der udgør gæsteindgangen i Harry Potter og Fønixordenen samt Dødsregalierne part 1 ikke at finde. Men i filmen står den på Great Scotland Yard ved hjørnet til Scotland Place. Så faldt vi ved et tilfælde over Harry Potter Photographic Exhibition på vejen til Covent Garden, og brugte et par timer på at se på billeder og kostumer, læse fun facts og selvfølgelig gå i butikken ved udgangen. Det var en ganske fin oplevelse, men stedet er desværre lukket siden hen. Det var efterhånden blevet mørkt, da vi kom frem til Covent Garden, og det fremstod supersmukt med kunstige misteltene hvor de hvide bær var lyspærer. Vi nåede ikke frem til Minalima udstilling af grafiske designs til Harry Potter filmene inden lukketid, så vi kiggede ind af vinduerne, beundrede juleudsmykningen i Regent street og gik hjem – det var også blevet sent.

Den sidste dag var en søndag, og det er normalt en travl dag på Camden Market. De havde dog ikke helt åbnet da vi kom ved 10-tiden, og der var på intet tidspunkt så mange mennesker, som jeg har været vant til. Det var faktisk helt rart at være der. En af tingene på min liste var Primrose Hill en kort stykke fra Camden, hvorfra man kan se ud over hele byen – en ting jeg først sent opdagede og derfor ikke havde haft lejlighed til tidligere. Så gik vi forbi de sidste must see seværdigheder som The Shard, Tower Bridge, Tower of London, St Pauls Cathedral og Millennium Bridge (den der bliver sprængt i Halvblodsprinsen). Slutteligt lagde vi vejen forbi Leadenhall Market, hvor jeg endnu ikke havde været før. Det er et smukt victoriansk marked tilbage fra 1321, og for tiden havde det et kæmpe juletræ i midten. Det er desuden her indgangen til Den Utætte Kedel (The Leaky Cauldron) findes. Desværre er det kun døren man finder, og til brug for filmen var den malet sort og gammel, og har derfor kun en sparsom lighed med filmen i dag. Man finder indgangen i gaden Bulls Head Passage lige syd for markedet.

Og sådan sluttede endnu en fantastisk tur til London – jeg kunne sagtens gøre det igen. Der er heldigvis rygter om en ny Harry Potter HBO serie og et PlayStation spil på vej jeg kan glæde mig til. Desuden har jeg en lille drøm om at komme til Oxford, hvor flere af Hogwarts-scenerne er filmet. Det er desværre halvdyrt og bøvlet.

Ellers må jeg en dag til Universal Studios Orlando og se deres Hogmeade og Diagonalstræde eller tænke tilbage på flere af mine tidligere rejser med Harry Potter Indhold:

– Gratis Glæder i London del 2 – London – Europas Hovedstad del 1 – Los Angeles del 2: The City of Angels – Santa Monica, Hollywood og Los Angeles – Lego Harry Potter Hogwarts Timelapse

Her følger lidt flere billeder fra turen:

Foto: Maila Walmod

Dragen spyer ild. Foto: Maila Walmod

Foto: Maila Walmod

Første møde med studierne

Foto: Maila Walmod

Kings Cross fra Hemmelighedernes kammer.

Grumsted Plads

Ministeriet for Magi Gæstindgang

Covent Garden

#Covent Garden #Europa #Gryffindor #Harry Potter #Leavesden Market #London #Millenium Bridge #Millennium Footbridge #Minalima #Primrose Hill #Rejse #St Pauls Cathedral #Teater #The Making Of Harry Potter #The Shard #Tower Bridge #Tower of London #Warner Brothers

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mirislamh · 5 months ago

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#millenium #bridge #quayside #newcastle #uk #england #united kingdom

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i-wear-the-cheese · 2 years ago

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NFTs are the laymans version of buying the naming rights to a building. Congrats, you own nothing, and I will not add your company name to the building when I say 'Wembley Arena' or 'The London Eye'

#except for the O2 in London #because boy did they get in there early before everyone started buying up ground #and it's like actually their business model #anyway we should bring back the name 'Millenium Dome'#why did the millenium bridge get to keep it's name?#but the millenium dome and the millenium wheel are now #Billboards For Corporations #this rant was longer than I planned #oh well #Queue even knows anymore

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formulapookie · 1 month ago

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bezzetti birthday sex.

here's to you dear anon <3 (2.5k words later) under the cut for the smut

Cele knew Bez had something planned for his birthday, because he always had since they were messy kids running around tracks with their minibikes.

They’re still equally as messy, the bikes have changed, sure, but they’re still kinda kids at heart.

Like when last year Bez gifted him the Millenium Falcon Lego set for his 22nd birthday and they spent hours together building it.

Bez’s birthday is almost exactly one month after his, so he always has the chance to one up his boyfriend’s gift in that period, but this time he fears it’s gonna be complicated.

When midnight hits and Pecco uncorks the champagne he bought the day before, Bez immediately picks him up and kisses him, making them both laugh as they try to lose themselves in each other’s arms.

“You are amazing today, happy birthday amore” “You’re making me blush in front of everyone” “You’re so pretty when you do”

They kiss again, then they all chant “Happy Birthday” to Cele before bringing him gifts.

Most of them are bike related things, someone getting him new gloves, someone new knee sliders, someone going out their way and buying him a whole new leathers for training, since his are pretty demolished.

Bez is last, he always is with his gifts, he brings him a little light blue box, of course in his colors, with a blue ribbon around it.

Cele opens it and he doesn’t speak for a few seconds.

“Venice? Really?”

Bez nods, Cele loves that city, always has, but he never had time or chance to go visit it properly.

“Five days, you and me in Venice, no one to bother us with trainings or whatsoever” “I love you” “I know” “After the season ends we’re going to Venice ok?” “I love you so much” “I love you too”

Cele blushes again, Bez hugs him and kisses the bridge of his nose, then everyone starts asking for the cake, chocolate flavored of course, and another hour passes.

Mig gets completely drunk once again and Franky has to actually restrain him from trying to use Rubik as a horse and pace around the house like that, then Pecco takes a handful of cake and basically throws it on Luca’s face who starts running after him with the remaining piece of cake trying to hit him.

Bez and Cele steal every joint Franky tries to roll for himself, and he ends up having to smoke in the bathroom with Mig half asleep beside him in the bathtub asking to “please let me smoke I’ll suck you off later”, and eventually giving in to the compromise.

Bez had cursed because he just needed to take a piss, not to see Mig going at it with Franky in his bathroom.

Pecco and Luca had disappeared at some time during the night only to emerge from the guest bedroom half an hour later looking anything but collected as they usually are, making Cele tease them about it for a good ten minutes.

Rubik tried to steal Cele’s gloves a few times, and Bez couldn’t scold him for the love of God so he just gave his dog a pair of his own gloves to play with, trying to make it less obvious that the pitbull had drooled all over Cele’s new pair.

By three in the morning there’s only a few people left, including Mig and Franky, who visibly had more than just one trip to the bathroom together, judging by the state of Mig’s neck and walking ability.

When even they leave, kinda thrown out by Bez who can’t stand them being all touchy ald flirty on his couch for fuck’s sake, him and Cele are finally alone.

“Enjoyed the birthday?” “Except from the fact Mig and Franky kept the bathroom occupied for the majority of the night yeah, I did” “Oh come on as if we never did that to their house, or Pecco’s, or even at the Ranch when we partied for Pecco’s first title and you dragged me there, or-” “Yeah ok ok I get it I know stop saying it you know I get embarrassed” “Mh yeah that’s exactly why I bring it up”

Cele pushes him jokingly and Bez catches his wrist, pulling him close to his chest, kissing him deeply.

“Hello birthday boy” “Hello my favorite present” “Oh I’m a present now?” “Pretty much the best one of the last three years”

They keep kissing until they stumble in their bed, luckily not the one used by their friends, and Cele gets pinned to the mattress.

“Marco Marco come on” “Eager today?” “Been waiting all night fuck”

Bez smiles as he undresses himself, tossing the shirt somewhere around the room and Cele quickly following him.

As soon as Cele’s half naked he goes to kiss his neck, leaving a pretty dark bruise on it, halfway from the collarbone to his jaw.

He leaves a trail of wet kisses until he reaches the boy's nipple, he recently got it re pierced after Bez convinced him to do it.

And it honestly was one of the best things he did as of lately, he got hypersensitive and Bez can pretty much play with him and get him dumb whenever, especially if he’s already as aroused as he is now.

“Love this on you Celin, you look so cute when you squirm because I tease you” “You get - fuck - you get sensitive there too don’t act so superior”

Bez doesn’t leave the younger much time before beginning to suck on that nipple, toying with the other one in the meantime.

“Marco fuck”

Bez smiles against his chest, not interrupting his game, but moving the hand busy with Cele’s nipple down to unzip his pants and cup him through his boxers.

Cele arches his back slightly, his hand going to tug at the mess of curls Bez’s hair are right now, making the older moan lightly.

Bez is sensitive pretty much everywhere, but neck, nipples and hair are his most sensitive places, if they’re fucking and Cele is riding him all he has to do is get his hands in Bez’s hair and pull and he’ll get really close really fast.

Cele feels hot all over, he wants Bez inside him now, wants his stupidly big hand holding him down as he fucks him so good he wakes up still feeling it.

But as always the other loves to drive him slowly insane, more than he already is, toy with him as if he’s a mouse and Bez is a cat.

“Stop teasing it’s my birthday come on” “So when my birthday comes in a month I can boss you around like you’re trying to do now Celin?” “I don’t- yes you can but now -” “You promised eh Celin, remember, now what do you want me to do?”

Cele bites his lip, there’s a thin string of saliva still connecting Bez’s mouth to his nipple and it’s fucking hot.

“I just want you inside please” “As you wish”

Bez removes his hand from the front of Cele’s boxers, which by now are basically soaked in precum, yanking off his pants and wet boxers making Cele groan in pleasure

He looks for the lube, three seconds during which his boyfriend props himself up to unzip his pants and urge him to be quick.

“I don’t care how eager you are amore, I still need to prep you ok?” “But come onnnn, we fucked yesterday I’m - I’m ready” “No you are not, not lay back and let me make you feel good alright? I promise I’ll fuck you so well Celin”

The boy whines as Bez pushes him on the mattress again, then he hears the sound of lube being squeezed and a cold sensation around his hole.

Bez’s lips find their place below his jaw once again, leaving small and numerous kisses all over it, while he pushes the first and almost immediately second finger in.

Cele’s hands fly to grab onto Bez’s back, nails scratching lightly already. He wants him so much he can’t even describe it, Bez always had this effect on him, since the first time they ever had sex, he’s addictive, you have him once you want him forever.

“Gonna use a third finger ok? Then I promise I’m fucking you” “Yes yes it’s ok it’s good just be quick with it I want you”

Bez smiles against his jaw, it comes natural to him when he’s with Cele, whatever situation they’re in.

When he pushes the third finger in, Cele digs his nails a bit deeper in Bez’s back, making him whine and speed up his movements, he’s scissoring and stretching him so well Cele thinks he might just come from that alone.

It’s overwhelming, it always is, the precision and rapidity of Bez’s fingers, they reach places inside him he can’t reach on his own, when he’s alone at home and he misses Bez’s touch, and tries to do what he does, but can never get that deep or fast or precise like Bez does, and that gets him insane.

“Fuck - I’m ready Marco I swear”

Bez leaves another hickey on Cele’s neck before removing his fingers and swapping them for his cock, which is painfully hard in his boxers now.

They kiss, a mess of teeth and tongue as the older get properly naked and starts pushing inside him, slowly but so fucking deep it has Cele moaning in three seconds.

By now his nails must’ve left marks, which is fucking hot for both of them, mostly for Cele, as Bez pulls out and slams back in making his back arch in pleasure he looks for the “C” he painted on Bez’s shoulderblade the day before with hickeys, then as soon as the older behind moving and setting his usual quick pace his mind gets lost.

It’s like waves of continuous pleasure drawing him at every thrust, Bez’s grunts just getting him more and more needy for it, like fuel to an already burning fire.

“Marco kiss me please”

And he doesn’t wait to hear it twice, Bez just presses their lips together, pushing his tongue past Cele’s teeth and never interrupting his thrusts, actually increasing the speed and depth of them.

“I love you so much” “I know” “What are you - fuck - Han Solo?” “Would you dress like Leila?” “Fuck off” “You’d look good Celin, you’d be my princess wouldn’t that be hot?”

Cele has to muffle a moan, he doesn’t know if it’s just the word princess or Bez saying it but it gets him immediately closer to the edge, and obviously Bez notices.

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you? To be my little princess, get treated like royalty while I fuck you so good you forget your name?”

Cele moans again, Bez hits his prostate and he can’t help it, it’s all together and it’s all so much.

He’s so so close, he can feel the knot in his stomach about to burst.

“Mh not yet baby” “No please come on it’s my birthday” “You’re right bimbo, you’re right, but you still have to earn your gift no? So what about you ride me and then you can cum? Sounds good?”

It does. Because whenever he rides Bez he kinda gets the upper hand, he can tease more, and aside from the he loves riding Bez, he gets so deep inside him it almost makes him stupid.

“Yes yeah ok sounds - I’ll do it”

Bez kisses him deeply once again, pulling out and settling for a comfortable position to let Cele have access to his lap.

The older pats his thigh and Cele is quick to crawl to him, almost immediately trying to have Bez inside him again, sitting in his lap and guiding his cock against his hole, sinking on it as soon as he can, moaning loudly at the sensation.

“Come on Celin, you can move”

He follows Bez’s words like a command, and begins moving, tilting his head back as he rides Bez’s dick, so eager to come and make his boyfriend do the same.

His hands almost automatically go for the older’s hair, pulling him closer to his face to kiss him.

Cele moans inside Bez’s mouth, who’s eagerly swallowing every sound coming from the younger, especially once he gets his hands on Cele’s ass and squeezes it, helping him out with his movements.

“Are you tired already Celin? You want me to finish the job for you?”

And yeah, he actually is, his thighs are giving up, his brain is all over the place, sensitivity multiplied by a thousand times, and he really just finds it hot whenever Bez takes over the situation.

“Please”

Bez moans in his mouth before starting to meet his movements with harsh and deep thrusts, it’s obvious he’s close as well, Cele can tell by the way his moans are becoming louder and closer between them and the way he’s pulling him against his chest to feel him more.

Once Bez gets his free hand around his dick Cele knows it’s over, all it takes it’s a few strokes and he’s coming all over his boyfriend’s hand, leaking hot liquid making its way and dripping onto Bez’s thigh, while the older can only last so much before burying himself deep inside Cele and painting him white, Cele’s hypersensitive hole clenching at the hot sensation inside.

He climbs off Bez’s lap, cuddling beside him as he shifts to be laying on the bed, both taking deep breaths and looking at each other smiling.

“Fuck” “That was - god that was really good” “I still can’t believe I get to have you Marco” “Oh come on, at the latest it’s me who can’t believe I’m your boyfriend”

It makes Cele blush, the way Bez looks at him with the sun in his eyes.

“Can I make an early gift for your birthday?” “Always Celin”

He gets back on top of him, Bez casting a questioning look, then Cele lowers his head to level with his chest and Bez gets it.

“You possessive basta- fuck”

He’s drawing a heart with hickeys around his pierced nipple, something he’s done thousands of times now, to mark Bez as his, off limits for whoever may try to steal a glance at him.

He gets it done in less than one minute, then looks at his artwork for a good other few minutes.

“Happy now?” “Very” “Come here come on, I wanna cuddle you” “You’re always so - you seem like a koala post sex you know?” “You enjoy me being clingy tho” “Yeah I do” “Then come here, we have to be up in like two hours to get to the Ranch” “No let’s stay here” “We got the race Celin” “I can’t wait for the season to be over do we can go to Venice” “Five days” “I’m already thinking of a few things we can do in five days there”

Bez smiles, leaving a kiss on Cele’s cheek before feeling him slowly drifting to sleep and quickly following him, keeping him tight in the hug. They’ll worry about cleaning up sometime later, right now the important thing it’s they’re together.

#alice journal of asks #anon🩷#alice writes #bezzetti #motogp smut #motogp rpf

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legend-as-old-as-time · 10 months ago

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I like the idea of a story where, rather than that the turaga are already aware of at least some of Metru Nui's bad things being inherent, the realization proper starts with their return.

It's the ease the matoran keep working. They have regular breaks, can call in sick, socialize, and play, and are all the more productive for it.

The Rahaga and Dume have helped calm down the lingering rahi or put them elsewhere where they could live in peace. The matoran know how to live with them and the ones reintroduced.

So, no more imprisoning rahi in the Archives. Whenua headstarts a mapping of everything before anybody starts to explore and renovate them.

Matoran of the different koros mingle to help with rebuildung. They help rebuild the chute system and the core knots in Le-Metru. Po-Metru gets proper villages with supply lines. They rebuild each metru, every important piece of infrastructure, to safe.

The turaga feel uneasy. Like there's something missing but they can't think of what. This is everything they wanted, isn't it? Isn't it?

This unease only shows at what it is - haircracks in their beliefs - when Jaller demands accountability from them. Demands them to tell the truth. And when they can't to his satisfaction, he calls out a city-wide strike. One that most matoran heed! All six of the Metrus!

The haircracks split open.

Impossible in the old Metru Nui. The six Turaga (Mata Nui)'s minds try to understand, struggling to bridge the gap between what they knew as normal as matoran and what their community is like now.

Nobody would've thought of a strike except if another civil war had been building up. Nobody would've thought of the Metrus working together. Nobody would've dared to speak up against Dume.

Or not openly, not with the threat of the vahki.

But. There are no vahki anymore. There haven't been any vahki in Metru Nui for a millenium.

Metru Nui works. It lives. There is no need for the vahki. The turaga didn't even notice the unusual peace stems from the lack of the robotic enforcers. The matoran don't fear retribution for calling out authority on their mistakes.

There are less accidents because working the conditions are safer. Why weren't they safe before?

Peace and safety without the vahki, because there are none. What a joke.

Yet, here they are. The turaga's world is not tilting anymore. It's breaking. With the fear of Mata Nui dying, they don't have time to think about it. Even less time when Teridax begins his reign. Survival matters more.

Then Metru Nui dies once more, this time apparently for good. The truth about the universe is revealed. Most if not all inhabitants migrate to Spherus Magna. A new sort of peace is established, with new dangers threatening it.

The turaga have now time again to think. They unconsciousness is doing the work of what they've realized even if they refuse to. It's here that their mental breakdown starts.

#bionicle #bionicle headcanon #toa metru #toa / turaga metru #metru nui #spherus magna #toa metru sibling headcanons

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yorksnapshots · 5 months ago

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By the Millenium Bridge, York, England.

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nhdiary · 3 months ago

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#20240729 #st paul's cathedral #millenium bridge #london #uk

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invinciblerodent · 11 months ago

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Another case of the "I'm not done"-s seems to have possessed me, because the immortality and rebirth of elven souls and this fucking elf/vampire!elf romance I'm doing right now is kind of ruining me.

Because, well... look.

This shit is ripe for angst.

For so long, there is no real reason to think much about the passage of time. Death, it's but an abstract far in the future- a bridge to be burned when they get to it. It's easy enough to practically forget that mortality is a thing to account for: with both the endless stretch of centuries they have and her body as unchanging as his, that thought can be kicked further down the road for what feels like it might even be an indefinite amount of time. Their lives just inch along, endlessly, and twine together like the roots of an ancient forest, building around- and with one another. Friends come and go, live and die, and yet, every moment, every day, is permeated by the other's presence: even in their "sleep", they're reliving shared memories (there is scarcely another kind, by now) while holding one another.

Talking about which of their adventures they chose to remember in Reverie is one of his favorite parts of the night.

Until one evening, as she opens her eyes to greet both him and the nightfall with a smile, he catches... just the faintest opaque, silvery glint in her pupils. It's barely a flash, gone in an instant, as if it was merely a trick of the light, but the thought, like a pesky insect, begins buzzing in his head. It will not let him rest.

With this new thought gnawing at him, he can't not see that there's almost a... strange distance, to her now. Even with this hazy half-awareness, it would have slipped his note if he hadn't come to know her quite so intimately over the past half millenium, if he hadn't memorized her cadence and heard her every loving thought as if it was his own. But he's attuned to her: even as her fingers glide through his hair, and her lips speak her words of love like they have so many times before, the same words, they... ring slightly hollow, robotic, automatic in their sweetness now, and once the dreaded Sun begins inching over the horizon and he's forced back into the shadows once more, her kiss goodbye lingers just one second longer, she holds him just a touch tighter before she'd be out the door.

All day, he circles the darkened room like a trapped animal, mind flush with thoughts of robotic words, silver glints, and a creeping dread. Surely, it cannot be what he thinks. It cannot. It wasn't a half-moon, it's not the Transendence, it was merely a... a reflection off something, moonlight bouncing off a silvered picture frame, or the twinkle of a magelight lighting the street glancing through an improperly closed curtain, a... a stomach bug that she's toughing out and is too stubborn to say anything about, something. It cannot be what he thinks, fears that it was.

The day drags on, the hour he'd expect her back comes and then passes, and when she returns, it is closer to sundown than it normally would be. Usually when she must leave for the day, she tries to time her return so that they can rest together, and then emerge from their chambers at the exact moment of nightfall to maximize the amount of time shared, the time he can walk free with her on his arm, but today, she returns with darkness on her heels, and bittersweet sorrow marring her face.

"Arael, we need to talk," she says, and the beloved endearment in their shared native tongue, 'heart' and 'hearth', 'center' and 'lover' in a single word, turns to acid in his ears. Instantly, he knows what she's going to say.

"How long have you known." It's not a question in tone, only phrasing- the hiss of his own voice feels alien in his throat. "When were you planning on telling me."

"It's been... a few days."

A few days. A few days, she's been...! He can't bring himself to think the word 'dying'. He can't. His knees give way under the weight of her words, and he crumples onto the nearest chair.

"You.... should have told me right away." He wants so dearly to be furious. His hands itch to rip, to tear, to destroy everything, his tongue aches to spit bile that'd make her feel exactly the pain he does in this moment... Gods, it was so easy to grow complacent and start believing in forever, to stop counting the hours, the days, the years, and still, it's her godsdamned near-forgotten mortality that's come knocking-- now, that his life is inexorably intertwined with hers, that she's been the other half of his soul for long enough to see the birth and death of friends and enemies, the rise and fall of monarchs, nations. And yet, her life's thread is soon to be clipped, while his must stretch on, infinite.

He buries his face in itching palms and swallows the bile to make room for the flood of grief. "I could have prevented this," he whispers now, "We could have had the chance, at forever... forever, if I could have turned you, if only I had-- if I--"

A soft hand on his shoulder stills him now. "Arael," she repeats, and traces a line to his chin, gently urging him to look at her. "I could not have dreamed of a more blissful, blessed life, than the one I shared with you. But--"

"Don't say it!" She winces as he snaps, and his hand is now grasping her wrist, insistent, hard enough to almost hurt, as he presses her palm against his cheek. "Don't, it's not over yet-- she may be calling, but you don't have to answer, you can stay--"

"I can't, my love."

"But--!"

"Arvandor is calling my soul, Astarion. The Gate is open. Sehanine has shown me; I must answer."

"But not yet, there's still time, you--!"

Her thumb gliding feather-light over his lips cuts off his desperate shout. "I have time enough to get my affairs in order," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, "but I can delay it no longer than maybe another tenday. For now, please... simply be with me."

That night, they make love. Tender, aching love that leaves them both tearful in one another's arms- his whole body shakes, racked with heavy sobs as he buries his face in her chest, as if that way he could melt into her, to keep her here, keep her safe, keep her for himself, or... or follow her, anchor his soul to hers, stow away and smuggle himself into the afterlife that rejected him, so they can be reborn together, find one another again, have another six hundred years, and another, and another...

Hopeless. A fool's desperation, no more. There's no tricking the Seldarine: he had rejected rebirth in favor of this wretched, eternal half-life the moment Cazador's fangs sunk into his flesh so long ago now, and his soul was rent from Arvandor. There's no changing that now, no fighting it, and no putting it off longer either. So he kisses her through the sobs once more, makes love to her once more, and drinks deep from her once more, willing his tongue to carve this memory of her taste, her essence, her love as deep into his mind as it may.

She takes the promised tenday to get her affairs in order, and to set up all that may only be done during sunlit hours: she organizes herself a nighttime funeral, arranges for her assets to be dealt with as she may, and makes sure to hold him tight, to mourn with him as if she herself wasn't the one dying. And each night, she speaks sweet, reassuring nonsense of the permanence of memory, of rebirth, and the aching, heartrending beauty of gentle endings.

And once no more minutiae is left to handle, there is no more delaying the inevitable.

She is laid to rest in a modest ceremony, in a small circle of trusted friends, under the light of a waning moon.

He mourns, bitter and alone, for years- barely leaving his chambers out of necessity, flitting through the nights as a ghost not entirely unlike the one he was so long ago, until one evening he wakes to find the pain... bearable. There will quite possibly never not be a wound on his soul now, but even the deepest wounds, they scar over: there's new, tender flesh, pink and gnarled, stretching over the void of her absence now. And life, it continues as it does, relentless.

Decades pass. The new flesh, it toughens, thickens, until it can scarcely be seen, unless you know where to look for it: the loss now lives only in the absent-minded seeking of her warmth in his cold slumber, in the automatic gesture of taking two wine glasses from the cabinet only to set one back down; it lives behind the locked door of her untouched workshop and in the slip of parchment left between the yellowed pages of the book she had never finished reading.

Until one evening, shortly after nightfall, there is a knock, hard and insistent, on the door.

His body redies itself for a fight, as if a hunter might be so bold as to announce their arrival- but curiosity, it's too hard to resist, and he scarcely makes an effort.

It's... an elf. But not any elf- a woman, younger, taller, and fuller in figure than she was, and her hair, it's a tightly curled warm chestnut rather than her blood-red waves, but it's unmistakable: her features, they are exactly the same. The same fire amber eyes, the same freckles dotting her cheekbones, even the same raised mark at the edge of her jaw that sits there like an insect had folded its wings and chosen to make its home on her skin. And the stranger speaks, with her voice, before he could find his own.

"So you do live!" she says, equal parts disbelieving and relieved, "Or, well, something like that. I could tell that you were a vampire, from the-" she gestures vaguely to his face, "-fangs and all, but I still wasn't sure I'd ever actually find you."

There's... a prickle of understanding. It's her, but... not quite. Her soul. Her, but born anew. And she returned in a way, to reminisce, to meet him once more- and his mouth opens, but the words, wary and elated and tender at the same time, get lost on their way to his lips.

It's an imperfect replica of her laugh that leaves the woman's mouth. "Gods, don't gape at me like a beached carp like that! I've been seeing nothing but your damn face in my trance for decades now; I was looking for you, hoping you could answer some questions I have." The familiar stranger flashes her mischievous smile. "Can I come in? I feel we have a lot to talk about."

There is no love in this. But, there's nevertheless something... bolstering, in the unique opportunity he can present to the new owner of her soul: the opportunity to get to know, truly know, who she once was. Halting and strange as it may be, they do talk quite a long time, and when she leaves, it's with gratitude, and a short, awkward, one-armed hug that she bids her farewell.

And time stretches, infinite yet again.

As long as he may live, her soul, it continues seeking his across however many lifetimes, until one day, the strange elf finds the door in their hazy memories hanging off its hinges, and the home, collapsed and empty, maybe for decades now.

Occasionally, it is still said that in each generation, there may very well be an elf born whose soul feels an irresistible need to make a curious, solitary pilgrimage to the ruins of a city once known as Baldur's Gate, and hope against hope to find a pale man with red eyes wandering the empty streets.

And maybe, a woman who had once lived there so many centuries ago was right: there's an aching, heartrending kind of beauty in that.

#squirrel plays bg3 #squirrel writes #astarion #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #look it's the closest thing to actual fic that I've written in like 6 years #there needs to be a Cool Internet Slang Abbreviation for 'head in my hands'#i've decided right this second that i'm going to make it happen and just use 'himh'#himh take this away from me #i feel a weird urge to add just one or two more words because this is 2022 words it seems #but even though it's def not perfect i kinda don't want ot keep touching it #ANYWAY have quick and dirty and hastily written angsty fluff sometime far far far into the future

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