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#THIS SHORT STORY MURDERED ME WHOLE
cometrose · 9 months
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i didn’t pay attention to dark road but i was browsing through the kh wiki what do you mean some student went crazy and murdered like all of xehanort’s classmates
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psalmsofpsychosis · 7 months
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me sitting here rocking back and forth like a catatonic disastrous lab experiment as i open Gotham 3x07 before i even got my breakfast like "nothing happens to Nygma and Pinguin nothing happens to Nygma and Pinguin they're fine they're okay i'm fine everything is good—"
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celifin · 2 years
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Have my ocs while i finally have the courage to post about them :)))
(tags are quite long very sorry i just have Many Thoughts (tm) HFHDJFJJD)
#So so :)))#Essentially their whole reason for existence is because some friends and i started talking about our favorite tropes and hero/villain came-#up and we just. Started sharing so many ideas and i created a google doc full of info we discussed and made lore and worldbuilt stuff HDHDH#so!!! Long story short its essentially a world where the heroes are the bad guys technucally and most the villains are good but misundersto#*misunderstood#(Btw i literally cannot choose any sort of gender for them so bare with me because it could change lated on HFBDJ)#So on the left!!! Noor!!! Widowed villain who’s past love used to be a hero#but said hero found out the occupation of being a hero etc etc was corrupt and needed to change that#butttttt via some fault of the ppl who control the heros- said hero died because they didnt want to let the word get out#hence noor is a “villain” in the public’s eyes but just wants to continue their past love’s mission of bringing down whoever#June is on the right!!#Essentially the Tired As Fuck (tm) hero who is overworked c o n s t a n t l y#And really had no choice in becoming a hero or not- but doesnt see any faults to it just because they havent really thought about it#Eventually they’ll turn “rogue” and also become a “villain” later on when they fall in love with one another and theres so many different-#Tropes we talked about that i wrote down and 💛💛💛#The dynamic is literally noor flirts very very badly and doesnt expect anything back and june gives them murderous looks but when they d o-#Flirt back noor is 😳😳😳 excuse me 😳😳😳#One last thing as well: powers :)))) june has earth-manipulation-type powers- think kinda like an earthbender tbh#Noor does ✨magic✨ But a side effect of magic use is color creeping up starting from the fingertips progressing to mid forearm so they-#Always wear gloves#ANYWYAS#THOSE ARE ALL THE THOUGHTS IM GONNA SHARE#MAYBE SOMEDAY ILL HAND OVER THE DOC BUT MMMMMPH#my art :p#Ehhhhhhhhh yknow what why not#Noor and june#they get a tag because theyre very dear to me 💛
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the-furies · 2 years
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ok OC character building/rambling time under the cut
(before I start I just wanna say that we are collectively psychotic and that's the end of that sentence do not @ me for any tropes/negative psychosis stereotypes talked about here. thanks.)
Ok so Nestle, right. The dude kills his SO. we've got that figured out for the Plot™. But like… what's his Motive behind it, y'know?
And… We have… About 4 angel characters in the story. All fill the role of guardian angel in some way. All know each other. Soooooooo.…
What if,,, Be it Before or After the Murdering, the Angel Council (a placeholder name) starts talking 2 him. Now the four of em have different ideas in mind for him and it is A Mess and they don't Get Along and Nestle's like, "this is fine :)" and moves on with his life and continues to commit crimes and generally being an Overall Nuisance to people around him Oh also did I mention that these 4 angels are supposed to make sure he doesn't get into any more trouble. they don't do that. they're too busy arguing abt what path they should put Nestle on.
So while they're arguing Nestle's out doing Whatever the fuck. Probably not murder. Probably. Most likely vandalism and theft and also physical assault but not MURDER, no, that was a one time thing it's fine he's fine! Meanwhile In Heaven everything's going to shit because the four fuckos cannot come 2 an agreement thus meaning they can't make sure Nestle acts nice and not violent thus meaning he is still Out Here. Committing Crimes. </3 Rip
But eVERY NOW AND THEN. They Do collectively decide on shit to tell him and they're all like "HI HEY HELLO. WE'RE YOUR GUARDIAN ANGELS. DON'T DO X THING OK BYEEEEEEeeeee" and Nestle's like "Huh. ok! :)" and stops doing X thing midway through and like ups and leaves. His friends r like "hey what" and he's like "yeah the angels told me not to, ciao" and they're like "ok go off. not the weirdest shit that's happened this week"
Just a Small Idea rn in general. We need some way to connect Thee Angels to Thee OG Crew in the story so,,, we'll ofc still keep thinking of ideas this isn't finalized at all but the idea of "one guy with multiple guardian angels who are all shit at their job" is. so funny 2 us HFJDJjajdjf
#talky#oc talk#yes i am purposefully playing around w the 'InSaNe MuRdErEr HeArS vOiCeS oOoOoH!!' stereotype but listen 2 me right now.#***I*** am the psycho clown-ass motherfucker and ***THIS*** is my goddamn circus. If i wanna fuck around w stereotypes related#to my brain bs i damn well will. and i will write it in a way that's funny to us as a whole#bc at the end of the day no one aside us and like 2 friends will read totchb tbh#I think all this would happen After Allan gets yote tho#thus meaning we still need a motive for the murder.#amd other things ofc. like i said it's all small ideas n tidbits I'm brainstorming here#so in short:#Nestle does a Violence. Allan Dies. Angels get a Notif™ thts like#'hey this guy needs guardian angels 2 keep him from being more damned. y'all r in charge.'#the angels have 2 figure out how 2 work together to keep this one guy alive#unrelated I'm feeling deja vu shit rn. the fuck.#anyways meanwhile Nestle's like 'well this is weird. go off tho.#Uhhhh anyways my life is in shambles suddenly I'm gonna go swing my bat at things bc of it. ciao.'#will also probably Indeed give him (and others in the story.) My Symptoms of Unreality Brain Disorder#Hmmmb and actually thinking abt it more. He has friends outside of Allan#(in theory. i haven't Put Characterization into any of em yet but Eventually i will)#what if They egged him on and pushed him over the edge to kill Allan..... Hmmmmb 🤔🤔🤔 perhaps.#i am falling down the characterization brainstorming rabbit hole I'm gonna stop now ajdjsjdj#ask to tag#totchb
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sacrificialmutt · 1 month
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lore dropping in the tags because! uhm
#┈ ✴ ﹙rambling﹚#habit lore drop!!#my tag for lore drops bc i have experienced life altering mental illness#but the obsessive murderous hannigram dynamic is doing the opposite of wonders for my recovering brain#i had this whole delusion (question mark? idk if thats the right word but idk what it was but its never been addressed by anyone but me#long story short i was very famous on yandere tumblr and insta bc i was very unwell in the head#i could write a whole paper about irl yanderes bc being in there u learn its nothing like the stereotype of irl yanderes#but its just a lot of unstable people in an echo chamber#honestly most dont mean any harm its just a venting method tbh.. but w the aesthetic and japanese origin ppl will say ur being problematic#or whatevs#idrc this is not the point#i loooove to give way too much unnecessary context#BUT ANYWAYS#hannigram would have been like. the blueprint relationship for me#like now i can appreciate it as a ship separate from myself as a real person#but idk especially with the origami heart body in season 3 like its stirring smth up in me#and i nono wanna relapse#but like how do u not relapse into a state of mind?#and idek what it was like officially bc on paper theres nothing wrong with me#i became a whole different person and no one around me noticed?? i was so toxic and awful to be around bc i had this dark cloud over me#but nobody knows nobody knows and it weighs on me i was so awful not even to be edgy but bc i was having these awful urges#idk where im going with this im just lore dropping now#im going to stop#i need to speak to a professional but i could never tell anyone this#tldr hannigram makes smth in my brain itch that has been dormant for like two years and i want it to stay sleeping#bc if it wakes up and i go insane again idk if i will survive it
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arbitrary-mouse · 1 month
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amberautumnfaebrooke · 9 months
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i think i could design a better death arena for children than those hunger games amateurs.
the whole premise of the games is all pageantry. every year you get a crop of 24 candidates around whom the entire state media apparatus dedicates an entire year to building celebrity narratives. this candidate is the younger sibling of last year's winner - these candidates are young lovers forced to compete - he's smart - she's fast - root for them, care about them, watch them, form opinions on them, bet on them. and then they stick them all in an arena to kill each other, which is a great entertainment premise, except that they make the arenas themselves really boring and generic. ooo, they're in...a forest.
it's not even an interestingly designed forest. imagine if the game designers treated their arena like an actual video game designer treats level design. discrete zones with multiple paths between each room, creative use of lighting to guide players to points of interest, points of interest scattered across the map, discoverable resources hidden to encourage exploration. instead they just have a generic outdoors location and if you get too close to the edge they throw a random fireball at you.
the 75th games are especially bad about this. the arena is laid out radially into 12 wedges, and each hour one wedge becomes especially dangerous in a 12-hour loop. as a mechanic, this is genius. it forces everyone to keep moving, making "survival by hiding" an engaging and tense viewing experience instead of someone sitting in a tree for three days. plus, it encourages players to return to the center of the arena, where travel time between wedges is short, which creates a high-value zone for players to regularly return to and conflict over. in other words, it's a mechanic which incentives players to adopt dramatic, dynamic, exciting behaviors which are entertaining to watch (not to mention it communicates geography to the audience well). but it only incentives those behaviors if the players understand what's happening, and they go out of their way not to tell the players anything! when they figure out what's going on, the showrunners spin the arena to disorient the players, like they're intentionally trying to get them to just. randomly wander the jungle instead.
this isn't even to mention how often they create undramatic, boring deaths. they plant poison berries around the arena. they supply no fresh water and no way to get it. they roll poison clouds over sleeping victims. these happen to work out in the books themselves but you have to imagine that extremely often these just result in players dying unexciting deaths.
the cardinal sin though, of course, is that nothing is done to personalize the arena for the crop of contestants that year. if i'm designing the 75th hunger games and two of my most beloved contestants famously had to cancel their wedding because of a return to the games, i would OBVIOUSLY give them a trail of, i don't know, wild game which conveniently leads directly past a well defended wedding chapel. will they hole up there for a while? hold a mock ceremony for themselves? do or receive ironic violence here? stare wistfully and move on? any of it is better television than getting attacked by generic attack monkeys. you should have a dozen of these things on the map for every single candidate. but the game makers are more interested in doing the same thing every other game has done than in telling a compelling story.
it makes me second guess enjoying the children's murder arenas at all.
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hotvintagepoll · 2 months
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Propaganda
James Stewart (It's a Wonderful Life, The Philadelphia Story, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington)—the thing about Jimmy Stewart is that for a weird-enough looking guy, he is yet somehow SO hot and SO believable, ALWAYS. He always plays the same person—he's always, well, Jimmy Stewart—yet that person can be a murderer, a dark cynic, a naive idealist, the boy next door or an old man who knows better, and every one of those is hot. I would jump his bones in a heartbeat
Toshiro Mifune (Rashumon, Seven Samurai, Grand Prix, Stray Dog)—i love and respect my boi tab hunter (rest in peace you beautiful, beautiful man ❤️), but after i watched like 12 of his movies in a row on tcm last year, i ALSO love and respect toshiro mifune, son of a literal actual hatamoto’s (a high-ranking samurai) daughter, also very possibly related to the best judokan EVER, AND, he’s the guy who SHOULD have been obi-wan kenobi. the fact that he’s ALSO hot as hell just adds to his appeal.
This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
James Stewart propaganda:
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"Ough I saw him first in It's A Wonderful Life, where he is very charming as a suicidal family man being absolutely crushed by capitalism. But then. The Philadelphia Story, in my opinion, should get the same kind of press The Mummy does for being a bisexual dream. Now I'm not really bi (not into women) and it's honestly up for debate whether i'm attracted to men or not, but COME ON!! The movie stars James Stewart as well as Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn (and Ruth Hussey). Stewart plays a common working man, a journalist, to contrast with Grant's character, who is mega-rich. He is scrappy and hates rich people. Hot! They have a whole scene together where he's super drunk and being really physical with his acting, which I love because he is kinda wet noodle shaped. Hot! He carries Hepburn in his arms while singing Somewhere Over The Rainbow. Hot! He gets punched in the face by Cary Grant. Hot!!! In The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence, we get to see him portray an alternative type of masculinity, opposite John Wayne doing John Wayne. He is even more wet noodle-y, to put emphasis on his incompatibility with the rugged masculinity of the cow-boy, he wears an apron for a lot of the film, again, to blur his masculinity, and he gets shot. Hot! Also he's older here, if that's your thing. Long story short: He's giving librarian chic and The Philadelphia Story made me want to be poly."
youtube
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“Here he is next to Grant, in what I believe to be a promotional shot for The Philadelphia Story. Please don’t get distracted by Grant (or do, i’m submitting him next).”
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“He’s a nice guy and a good guy and deserves all the happiness and joy ever! Classic boy next door/class president kid that everyone loves for real. Stand-up for the Little Guy vibes. With a charming fun side!!”
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Toshiro Mifune propaganda:
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"In addition, he spoke fluent mandarin and every time he was casted in foreign films, he said his lines in the language of the movie (although they ended up dubbing him. He wasn’t happy about it though).”
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Submitted: this gifset
Also submitted: this video (yes, that one)
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"Crucial Toshiro Mifune propaganda: THOSE LEGS."
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"That is hella muscle. Go watch The Hidden Fortress, aka Star Wars A New Hope. His thighs deserve an award."
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david-box · 1 year
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I think one reason I hate the "response to a writing prompt on Tumblr" style of writing is that it's very immediately and quickly obvious where a story is going to go very quickly with "character/narrator saying one thing but feeling another" being like the max depth you can have in a story and also random ass Easy Progressive TM topics being thrown in there like "oh, this autistic kid is being treated nicely :-) because of the fae" or "This Evil Curse Person Fucks Up And/Or Isn't Evil Anymore Because Child Happens" some such shit like that. They just feel intensely saccharine and boring as fuck like you can tell in a few paragraphs if not 2 fucking line exactly what the story is, what it's leading up to, and how it ends and then we're supposed to feel good because Insert Discriminated Class In Vaguely Fictional Medieval Setting And Maybe Victorian Or Ancient Greek Times Every Now And Then Wins The Day. Give me some fucking murder or something
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halcyone-of-the-sea · 6 months
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oml hiiii, i rushed here immediately when i saw your requests are open ive been in love with the idea of maybe ghost having a teenage niece (his older brothers daughter) who he basically raised when he wasn't on duty but like none of the 141 knows about it because he keeps her a secret. He's basically her father at this point cause the rest of the family was murdered when she was only a baby. Anyways, you can do whatever you want with this prompt or not if you don't want to. But like I can totally just imagine Soap just seeing them in a Tescos and absolutely losing his shit when seeing a teenager swinging from his Lieutenants arm.
if you choose not to do this prompt that's completely fine!!! thank you!!!
—Sole Survivor
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⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ
╰┈➤ ❝ [Your father died years ago, and so you fall under the stiff, and unyielding, protection of your Uncle Simon. But it's not all bad. He can be funny when he wants to be.] ❞
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When you were the only one to live, the sole survivor of that massacre, Simon knew he was in trouble. 
He’d found you under the bed. The blood was still congealing over the wooden floors—whoever put you there, Tommy, his mother, Beth, or even his nephew, was all a mystery that no one would ever know the answer to. Yet, the larger question was how you, a baby, had managed to stay silent through it all. 
Simon had picked you up with panicked breath and tears in his eyes as the sirens of the police had gotten closer, holding you to him as you blinked awake and yawned. The bodies of his family were strewn around the floor, broken and bent; murdered. But you. Little you. 
Alive.
It would be best to leave you to be found by the authorities. To go somewhere far away from him and the future that was now stained into his soul—the pact of revenge and horror that would live through him like a brand. It was the right thing to do; the correct thing.
And then he remembers his mother’s eyes, and he’s already rushing to the back window while cradling your squirming body. The rest, of course, passed as the flow of time always did. 
“I’m thinking we should have steak,” your voice pipes up as Simon grabs a bag of crisps from the shelf. Brown eyes blink down at you, balaclava tight to this face. 
“You have steak money?” You were a teenager now, older and figuring life out one day at a time. He hadn’t told you the whole story, and he won’t until much later, but you know enough to a point that you were comfortable with. 
You know your family loved you. 
“You’re the one with the job,” he huffs at you as you utter under your breath. 
“Exactly,” Simon grunts. “Eatin’ me out of house and home like I never feed you.” 
“I,” you point a finger into the air, “am growing. Soon I’ll be just as tall as you, y’know that? I’ll be towering over everyone and giving them that same dead-eyed look that—” brown orbs level with you, unimpressed. You beam, punching his shoulder. “See! That one!” 
“Fuckin’ piss off, would you?” Simon grumbles, moving down to the next aisle in his large and darkly-clothed glory. Your laugh trails after him, feet heavy on his heels. “Givin’ me a headache.” 
You both walk around the Tesco, Simon getting strange looks while a beaming teenager walks beside him talking about supper, class, and anything in between. He offered short responses, sometimes sarcastic and sometimes serious—it depended, but the point was that he did answer you, no matter how pointless the conversation. 
“I think I’m going to join a club this year,” you speak as you gaze at the items your Uncle puts in his basket. A gaze side-eyes you slowly. 
“What, then?”
“I don’t know,” you hum, shoulder bumping into his arm and tilting your head. “Were you in any clubs?”
He grunts, shaking his head before a hand descends to your hair, ruffling it as you hiss in annoyance. “Never had time.” Simon hadn’t told you about his father or what he had done, and God help him if he ever uttered a word about it. That wasn’t something that mattered in your story, just his…he’d never place that weight on you willingly.
You frown as your uncle's arm loops your shoulders casually, keeping you to him as other people walk past you. Brown filters over posture and facial expressions—looking for the barest hint of ill-intent. When there’s nothing, and the forms move around you as easily as they had come, Simon’s attention leaves, and he continues on as if nothing had happened. 
“Try Debate.” Your face turns to him, curious. 
“Debate?” His eyes twinkle, and behind his face covering you immediately find the tell-tale twitch of a smirk. 
“Argue so bloody well you could convince a rookie that a P890 can hold 10 rounds.”
You fight the shocked smile that pulls at your lips. “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.” Eyes swirl, and a hand squeezes your arm; jostling you slightly. 
“It’s a compliment.”
“You’ve always been shit at those.” You get a firm glare and a grunt from above.
“Fuckin’ language.” Your lips mock his response, making fun of him before he sends a flick of his thumb and forefinger into your temple.
“Hey!” Simon chuckles lowly, walking closer to the front of the store to get ready to pay as you mutter. “Jerk.”
It was a surprise though, that when you had barreled onto your Uncle’s back for an impromptu piggyback ride as payback—which the man didn’t even flinch at, already used to your antics—that the wide eyes of a man with a mohawk met yours. Your head is atop your Uncles, resting there as the lady at the front gives you strange looks from behind the register as Simon places the items in front of her. 
He was gobsmacked, this stranger with his hair all done up like that, and your eyes blink at the display of tags around his neck that mirror your guardians. Broad, yet not so like Simon, and muscled, also, not as much as Simon. 
“Unc?” You ask, and the man below you hums in question, pulling out notes from his wallet absentmindedly. “Who’s the guy with the mohawk?”
Simon tenses under you, fingers freezing.
“With the what?” It wasn’t really shocking that no one knew about you besides Price—and the only reason he knew was that in the event something happened to him, Simon had made the Captain swear that you would be taken care of. 
Imagine his horror when his brown eyes darted up only to find them meeting the cobalt blues of his Sergeant, the Scot's hand outstretched to a box of pancake mix with a pack of Irn Bru in the other. 
There’s an immediate sinking feeling in Simon’s chest when Johnny awkwardly tips his fingers in a shocked greeting—eyes flashing up to your curious face before he thins his lips and blinks. 
You wave enthusiastically back. 
“Oh, bloody fuckin’ hell.”
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ourg0dsal · 5 months
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Gideon Nav CANNOT Die. Hold on- I know... but give me one second and I'll explain.
So, as I said before Gideon Nav cannot die, or at least her body can't. Cause clearly (spoiler warning) Gideon Nav died at the end of Gideon the Ninth. There is no avoiding that.
But! If you have read all the books GtN, HtN, and NtN including all of the accompanying short stories (tho I will admit I have not read The Mysterious Study of Dr. Sex yet) then there is a better understanding of the timeline of the whole story outside of just what the three main books give you. Specifically and especially with Gideon's body. But also there are many times In Gideons life were she has faced near death events or events that she should not have survived from and still was breathing on the other side.
To go in chronological order of these events, when she was first born she was found in a container held by the air depraved suit of her mother. And while ofc In the book it does state that her mother had redirected her air supply to Gideon, but it is simply being stated to cover all my bases.
Then the 200 sons and daughters massacre when Gideon was 1 (or 2 im not sure) when she inhaled poisonous air without dying. Which led ofc to the Reverend Mother and Father fearing the ground she walked. And this is a big one because, it literally creates waves in the plot. It's a defining point of Harrow and Gideons relationship. That Gideon did not die when she was supposed to.
Later in the story Gideon talks with Pal when she believes Harrow to be a murderer and openly admits to him that "she nearly killed me a half dozen times growing up" which obviously in context was to emphasize on the brutal relationship between her and Harrow. But this could also be other times where miraculously Gideon survived death when she shouldn't have. Because as we know from the first confrontation between Harrow and Gideon. Harrow doesnt hold back for her.
Finally of all the events where Gideon escapes death, this one actually happens within the main story of Gideon the Ninth. When Harrow siphons from Gideon to retrieve one of the challenge keys. And at the end when Gideon passes out, it is narrated ""ha-ha," said Gideon, "first time you didn't call me Griddle," AND DIED." Now, this could obviously just be the snarkiness of Gideon narrating. Or something incredibly clever left behind by Tamsyn Muir for a book series that is so clearly meant to be reread. But ofc to do my rounds the next line after does state "well, passed out. But it felt a hell of a lot like dying." But then immediately after "wake up had an air of ressurection." Which honestly feels like Tamysn Muir teasing the readers at this point. The question then becomes rather, which one was the tease and which one was foreshadowing/ evidence.
Now the point of listing all of these events is that in all of these cases the chances of death are so incredibly high that for most its a miracle she's alive. Ofc most notably for the siphoning trial and the poision gas, but none the less there is proof within the written story and and out that Gideon has looked death in face and moved on with maybe a headache. And it wasn't just in her child hood this is something she can just do. Some recreated in the written story! Because as Pal said. Even with the siphoning challenge done perfectly the chances of leaving Cam with severe brain damage was far to high. And Gideon didn't even suffer that.
Sadly, despite all these Gideon gets to the final battle and fights Cytherea and does die. At the hands of a particularly pointy fence. Or was it truly the fence that did her in? Rather than the lyctorship ritual that was started seconds afterwards.
My full theory, isnt just that Gideon Nav can't die. It's that Gideon Nav wouldn't have been able to die... If Harrow hadn't sucked her soul out. There are at the very least 8 seperate events that Gideon should have died, two of which were nearly gauranteed, but she was ended by a piece of metal. Yes, a very well placed piece a metal, but the point still up to that point she had faced worse a came out unscathed.
If Harrow had not completed the lyctor ritual, Gideon would not have died. Wether or not through resurrection or simply walking it off. Gideon's body has some sort of necromantic attributes to it that keep her alive. We see this in the Untitled Entry short story with Judith Deuteros that describes Gideons body, as it does not rot, cannot be injured, cannot be fed to animals forced or otherwise. And that is all before Jod ever gets a look at the body, because otherwise he would have known Gideon was his daughter before the later events of Harrow the Ninth.
And ofc during the first challenge when Harrow uses Gideon as her eyes to be able to see the construct in the other room and Gideon is able to see the thanergetic signatures that Harrow remarks should be impossible. (I assume because the process is Harrow extracting information (Gideons eyesight) from Gideon and so Gideon should not also be receiving information (the ability to see the signatures)) unless Gideon had some form of necromantic abilities, which she was tested for as a kid and apparently did not have. Alongside not having the correct attitude to be a nun of the ninth. And so we can round it out to be her body being naturally necromantic leaving Gideon without the ability to use it. (Which Is a jump from the actual point we are attempting to use, but for now this stops us from assuming Gideon as any sort of necromantic ability which is a theory all on its own. One that I personally have no evidence for or against)
Now, that I have hopefully made both my Ap Lit and Lang teachers proud with my 3 am essay, I must give you the real tragedy of Gideon the Ninth. Had Gideon not died, had Harrow been unable to complete the lyctor ritual for emotional reasons or otherwise, had Harrow not become a lyctor and killed cytherea. Gideon would have had to watch Harrow and Cam be killed, possibly even Corona, Judith and Ianthe. And then to be used for Cythereas own motives. Tamysn Muir beautifully set up the story so that the best possible outcome could have happened. Had Gideon not died. Everyone else would have. And "Camilla the sixth was no idiot" cam knew and accepted this whereas Harrow never would have. And so the unkillable Gideon had to die, and forcing Harrows hand was the only way to do it.
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popamolly · 2 days
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‘DANCE WITH THE DEVIL’ ALASTOR
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summary. You confess to Alastor, rapidly turning the pages of your unpredictable future with him as you two share a night of passion, unknowingly that someone lurks in the shadows watching you.
PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE
warnings. human!alastor x fem!reader, dark romance, murder, mention of blood/gore, agegap (you're in your 20s while Alastor is in his early 30s), alastor preys on your innocence, smut, Alastor gets a bit possessive and primal idk, breeding kink, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, rough!dom!alastor, a love making if you squint
author’s note. i took a short break to focus on my exams but i am back and will be responding to requests and my messages as soon as possible, thank you all for being patient! I plan on having only ten chapters so we are half way there! If you want to check this story out on wattpad (where you can find the chapters a bit more easily) you can find me @ SCREAMPIED. as always, thank you for the love and support. enjoy sinners.
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You had first thought to find Alastor's warehouse by memory but it was a fruitless attempt as the woods that surrounded his home were so dense that Mr.Ray opted against it, seeing as you two would get lost without a proper guide. You wanted to venture off into the woods but with Ray supervising you, you knew you had to take your search elsewhere. You and Mr. Ray had found yourselves on to the bustling streets of New Orleans, specifically targeting the popular French Quarter. The vibrant energy of the city surrounded you, the sounds of jazz music and lively conversations filling the air as you navigated through the crowd.
Your first stop was the renowned jazz club where Alastor was known to frequent and had taken you to only a few nights ago. The sultry melodies spilled out onto the street, drawing in a diverse crowd of music enthusiasts and night owls. The inviting glow of the club's entrance welcomed you back, stirring a mix of heartache and determination within you.
As you stepped inside, the familiar ambiance washed over you—the smooth jazz tunes, the dimly lit stage, and the intimate setting that had once felt so enchanting. The club was alive with activity, patrons enjoying the music, sipping on cocktails, and engaging in lively conversations.
You approached the bartender, a seasoned individual who seemed to have a wealth of knowledge about the club's regulars. With a friendly smile, you inquired about Alastor, describing him as the charming gentleman with a penchant for jazz and a captivating presence.
The bartender's eyes lit up with recognition. "Ah, you're talking about Al," he said with a nod. "He hasn't been around for a while, but he usually shows up later in the evening, closer to midnight."
Your heart raced with anticipation as you thanked the bartender and found a seat at the bar, eagerly awaiting Alastor's arrival. The minutes ticked by slowly, each second filled with anticipation and a hint of apprehension.
As midnight approached, the jazz club seemed to come alive in a different way, the music taking on a more soulful tone, the atmosphere tinged with a sense of mystery and possibility. You glanced around, searching for any sign of Alastor's distinctive presence, hoping that this time, your search would lead to the answers you sought.
As the minutes stretched into midnight, Mr. Ray settled into the seat beside you at the jazz club. His concerned expression didn't go unnoticed as he glanced around the lively venue, the music and laughter swirling around you.
"Miss, I have to say, this whole venture feels like a bad idea," Mr. Ray began, his tone cautious yet firm. "Chasing after someone who seems intent on staying elusive, especially someone like Alastor, might not lead to the answers you're looking for."
"And what do you know about Alastor?" You turned to Mr. Ray then, arching an eyebrow, challenging his perspective.
The driver shrugged, lighting a cigarette. "Not much, except for his reputation. Street talk suggests he's someone best left alone."
In that moment, you realized there was more to Alastor than met the eye. The man you'd grown fond of had a life beyond the radio show, shrouded in mystery. It prompted questions about how well you truly knew him; the answer, upon reflection, was not much, given the short time you'd known each other.
"Is he some sort of dangerous person? A kingpin? A fugitive?" You tapped your fingers on the bar counter, probing for answers.
"Not precisely, Miss. It's more of an unsettling aura he carries. People steer clear, citing his eyes as the giveaway—he's said to lack a soul," Mr. Ray explained, flicking ash from his cigarette. "That's why he resides in the woods, away from prying eyes."
"These are just rumors," you defended, feeling protective of Alastor. "He's not what they say."
"True, but rumors often hold grains of truth," Mr. Ray countered.
You met his gaze, a mix of determination and uncertainty in your eyes. "I appreciate your concern, Mr. Ray," you replied firmly. "But I need answers. I need to find Alastor and talk to him, no matter the risks."
Mr. Ray sighed, a hint of resignation in his eyes. "I can't stop you from doing what you feel is right, Miss," he conceded. "But please, be cautious. Sometimes, chasing after the thing we want most can just lead to more heartache."
His words struck a chord, a fleeting doubt creeping into your mind. However, the determination to seek answers and clarity outweighed the uncertainty. With a nod of understanding to Mr. Ray, you turned your focus back to the club, waiting anxiously for any sign of Alastor's arrival, knowing that this encounter would shape the path ahead, for better or for worse.
Your eyes widened as you noticed that familiar sight of brown hair and charming smile. Alastor entered the club with a woman on his arm, sparking a confused twinge of jealousy to course through you, but you quickly composed yourself despite your heart racing so much you were sure it was going to pop out of your chest. Sensing the moment of truth approaching, you turned to Mr. Ray beside you.
"You can go home now, Mr. Ray," you said firmly, your gaze fixed on Alastor's figure in the distance. "And do tell my mother that I will be home late."
Mr. Ray's expression tightened with concern. "Miss, it's half past midnight. I can't leave you alone like this," he protested, his protective instincts kicking in.
However, you remained resolute. "I am a grown woman," you said, your eyes never leaving Alastor as he conversed with the woman beside him. "I can manage fine without a chaperone. Now go."
Reluctantly, Mr. Ray nodded, understanding the determination in your voice. He stood up from his seat, casting one last worried glance in your direction before making his way out of the club. The sense of independence filled you as you watched him leave.
As Alastor's eyes met yours across the crowded jazz club, a silent understanding passed between you. With a subtle nod, he excused himself from the woman on his arm, gracefully making his way through the lively crowd toward you.
His approach was deliberate, his gaze unwavering as he closed the distance between you. With a teasing smile, Alastor glided his finger across your cheek in a familiar gesture, a playful twinkle in his eyes. "Smile, my dear," he remarked in his charismatic tone, "you are never fully dressed without a smile."
Your response betrayed the jealously you felt as a shiver goes down your spine at just a mere touch from him, you let his name fall from your lips like a soft spell. "Alastor," you said, your voice a mix of love and curiosity, "I have been looking for you."
The playful banter momentarily faded, replaced by a tense anticipation as you awaited his response. The air between you crackled with unspoken questions and emotions, the time for games and pleasantries giving way to the pressing need for answers and clarity.
"Oh? Well you have found me. How ever can I be assistance?" He did a quick bowls he grabbed ahold of your hand, placing a gentle lingering kiss along your knuckles.
"Who was that woman you're with?" The question spilled form your mouth before you could think, glancing over at the short plump woman that was dancing her heart away with another gentleman on the dance floor with a twinge of distaste, "A friend?"
Alastor could only smile at your noticeable jealousy, "A friend." He confirmed, "That is the lively mimzy, she cornered me as I made my way in here and assisted that I escort her in. As you can she, she already has forgotten my presence."
You nod in understanding, breath catching in your throat as Alastor stands closer to you, his face only inches from yours as he moves his hand to your waist, the stool you sat on only making it all the more easier for him to tower over you.
"Now, anymore questions? Or can I kiss you, my dear?" Alastor made a show of teasing you in such a public place, his grin stretching from ear to ear as he leaned in for a kiss but your hand over his mouth stopped him. As much as you wanted to give in to his enticing allure you knew you shouldn’t, not when you had no idea where exactly you stood in his life. You wanted something more, more than spontaneous rendezvous.
"I have a few.." You admit, "But let's go somewhere private, away from everyone else.”
“Of course,” Alastor straightened his tie, offering you his arm with a smile, "There is a lovely park not too far from here, the fireflies there are truly a sight to see. Shall we?"
You take his arm with a small nervous smile, walking out of the club that had just began to truly get lively once again. The both of you walked down the bustling street of the French Court, unbeknownst to you of a car headlights turning on across the street to slowly follow you.
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As you both arrived at the nearby park, the scene unfolded like a romantic painting. Other couples strolled along the riverbank, their laughter and silhouettes bathed in the soft glow of fireflies. You couldn't help but gaze at the night sky in awe, feeling as though you were part of something truly enchanting. The stars brightened the night sky like diamonds and you couldn't help by smile, feeling as though this counted as your second date with Alastor. It was simply, like the first one, and you found yourself with a bit of longing for the future- one that was filled with more moments like these with the man you've come to love.
Walking quietly beside Alastor, a sudden wave of nervousness washed over you, making you feel small beside him. Finding a secluded bench, the gentle rustling of leaves in the breeze creating a serene atmosphere.
Sitting together on the bench, you felt the weight of unspoken words hovering on the tip of her tongue, struggling to gather the courage to voice them. Her head battled with her heart, and the burning question finally spilled out, "Alastor, what are we?"
He chuckled lightly, turning to look at you, but you kept her eyes fixed forward, unable to meet his intense gaze. "Whatever do you mean, my dear?" he replied with amusement.
"You know exactly what I mean,"you said, wrapping your arms around yourself for comfort, your gaze drifting up to the sky once more. "You know I'm a Duvalier, with all the expectations that come with it. I'm expected to be married by the end of the season. It's an obligation, but it's also something I want. I want the whole happy ending – a husband, children eventually, that perfect life."
Your words stumbled out in a jumble as you struggled to convey her feelings to Alastor, or anyone for that matter. "I know it sounds silly, but I love you, or I know I could. What I'm trying to say is, I want to be with you and have that perfect life with you, but I need to know if you feel the same way. I don't want to be just a distraction or someone you discard when you're bored."
The weight of the silence that followed your confession settled heavily on your heart. You braced yourself for Alastor's response, half expecting the worst as your mother's warnings echoed in your mind. If only you could glimpse into Alastor's thoughts and see the turmoil brewing within him. For a fleeting moment, his smile wavered, unnoticed by you. Inside him, emotions raged like a relentless storm threatening to engulf him. You had been nothing more than a fleeting diversion, a domestic facade slowly growing on him, but love? The very concept seemed laughable to him, having forgotten its true meaning since his mother's passing.
The prospect of love was new territory for Alastor, dangerous waters he hesitated to navigate blindly. Yet, a part of him yearned for it. He gazed into your earnest eyes, seeing a hopeless romantic who he had once thought he could manipulate then kill with his charm. Now, he realized you were entirely his, and nothing he could ever do would deter your affection. He entertained the notion that perhaps you were his salvation, someone who had peered into his soul like no one else ever had.
Despite his dark secrets and looming shadows, you looked past it all and embraced him for who he was. Alastor, in his twisted mind, welcomed this newfound sensation of love but remained cautious, acknowledging his reluctance towards commitment. Yet, if you were willing to accept him with all his flaws, he was willing to try.
"Do you love me enough to die for me?" Alastor's gripped your chin tightly, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. You couldn't tear your eyes away, captivated by his aura and the shiver of pleasure his intensity sent down your spine.
"Yes," you answered breathlessly, craving his touch.
"That was too easy," Alastor dismissed your response with boredom, having seen the life fade from eyes so easily before. Living alongside him, however, would be a far greater challenge than dying for him. "Would you live for me?"
"Every day," you replied, your hands clinging to his wrist as he drew you closer, igniting a fiery desire between your legs that couldn't be quenched without him.
"Then you are mine dear, forever. In this life and the next, in heaven and in hell." Alastor's words hung in the air, a testament to the intensity of your emotions now reciprocated. Without another word, Alastor closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. It was a collision of desire and longing, a melding of two souls entwined in a tumultuous dance of love and darkness.
His kiss was both tender and possessive, a silent declaration of his complex feelings for you. You melted into his embrace, feeling the heat of his touch sear through your entire being. It was as if every doubt, every fear was erased in that moment of connection, replaced by a burning need for each other.
Time seemed to stand still as you both lost yourseleves in each other, your hearts beating as one in the midst of chaos. The world around them faded into insignificance, leaving only the raw passion and undeniable bond that drew you together.
When he finally broke the kiss, your breaths mingling in the shared space between them, Alastor's eyes held a mixture of longing and uncertainty. He had allowed himself to be vulnerable, to let you see a side of him he had long kept hidden. It was a leap of faith, a gamble on love that both thrilled and terrified him.
As you looked into his eyes, feeling the echo of his kiss still lingering on your lips, you knew that in that moment, all that mattered was the fierce connection that blossomed from a single dance on a patio a few nights ago, a flame that burned brighter in the midst of darkness.
"Take me home?" Your grip on Alastor never faltered as you felt this undeniable need to be with him, to give yourself to him yet again and explore that now familiar height of pleasure you tasted before.
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The warm glow of the fireplace bathed the room in a soft, flickering light, casting dancing shadows across the walls and floor. Alastor had you on the floor, legs over his shoulders with his arms hooked under your knees to fold you into a deep mating press. You felt his cock go inside you impossibly deeper, his swollen tip bruising your cervix as he pounded into you relentlessly. The crackling of the fire added a soothing rhythm to the charged atmosphere, heightening the senses as you explored each other's bodies with fervent caresses.
Alastor let out a primal groan that had goosebumps appearing all over you skin, his rough thrusts sending electric tingles throughout your body. Those deep brown eyes that poured into yours ignited a fire within you, a need that begged to be satisfied. His lips found their way to your neck, planting soft kisses along the sensitive skin, causing you to shiver with a soft moan slipping past your lips.
You ran your fingers through his hair and down his back, fingernails dragging across his skin to leave marks, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. The desire between you grew with each passing moment, fueled by the undeniable chemistry that crackled in the air.
"Say it again," Alastor demanded, sweat beading down his face as he brought his head up to look into your eyes once again, his thumb tracing the outline of your bottom lip with a blissful smile.
"I love you," You tossed your head back in pleasure, your throat nearly becoming raw from being so loud, your voice echoing throughout the walls of the warehouse, "I love you, A-Alastor..I'm so close, please."
"Good girls beg to cum, my dear." Your lover says, his voice a sweet taunt in your ear as he continues to fuck you into the floor, his balls slapping against you, "So beg."
"Alastor, please-please can I cum?" You begged, your mind going dumb with nothing but the thought of his cock inside you, filling you to the brim and stretching you impossibly wide that it stung, "It feels so good, Alastor, please-! I-!"
"No." His refusal had tears brimming the corner of your eyes, that need within the pit of your stomach only growing, aching to be released as you tried your best to deny it and not succumb to that feeling in the desperate attempt to submit to Alastor.
“Please—? Ah! Al—!”
Alastor could only laugh at your pitiful attempt to speak over the lewd sound of your tight pussy sucking him in greedily. If he couldn’t torture you to death he would surely torture you in other ways. Though the thought of your blood spilling from your pretty throat and soaking his fingers enticed him, he realized that he enjoyed inflicting the sexual torture a tad bit more. There was something about the look on your tear streaked face, mascara running and lipstick smudged, painting you as the perfect sinful masterpiece that he created. The way you were going completely dumb on his cock, getting lost in the feeling of only him as your mind turned to absolute mush from the overwhelming pleasure. You were shaking, writhing beneath him from the overstimulation and yet you still looked up at him with oh so innocent eyes— sweet pure innocence that he wanted to corrupt.
You were young and inexperienced in the matters of the heart, sex— hell, the world. It was going to take someone who was much older, much more experience to show you just how amazing adulthood could be, how pleasure can be felt from the top of your head to the top of your toes and lucky for you, you had a partner that knew the female anatomy all too well. Alastor angled his hips just right, hitting the sweet spot within you relentlessly that had you crying out, eyes rolling back, and toes curling.
“Look at me,” Alastor took ahold of your chin, forcing you to stay present and not get lost in the wonderland of complete euphoria, “That’s it darling, keep looking into my eyes and maybe I’ll reward you, hm?”
“Alastor…” Your voice was becoming a bit hoarse now, voice cracking from the tears you were shedding but a small smile graced your lips despite it all because you knew that this was something you wanted to experience for the rest of your days. To be beneath him, submitting your entire being to the man you love so you wouldn’t have to worry, or some much as think about the outside world because in this moment it was just you two.
“Fuck,” He cursed, feeling himself grow closer to his own release but he ignored it, focusing on you and how your lips were parted, begging Alastor with a soft voice to let you cum, “Let me hear that pretty voice, mon chère.”
"Please, please, please," you quietly begged, feeling another orgasm coming quicker than the last. Alastor watched you intently before he sat up to lick his thumb, bringing it down to rub circles onto your swollen clit. Your hips nearly bucked away from how sensitive you felt, "Alastor!"
"Does that feel good?" Alastor quieted you with a kiss before moving away to take your bottom lip in between his teeth, making you whimper as you felt him bite down, the irony taste of blood filling your mouth, "Be a doll and cum for me."
"Fuck!" You moaned out, feeling yourself clench around his cock just as you came undone.
Alastor quickly followed suit, burying himself inside you to the hilt before painting your walls white. You winced slightly from the feeling of being stuffed so full, your hole practically fluttering around nothing once he pulled out of you. It was strange, feeling his seed drip out of you, it was warm. You yelped just as Alastor brought your sore legs up to your chest again, his fingers making quick work of your freshly fucked out hole as he finger fucked his dripping cum back into you. The sudden primal urge to not let a single drop go to waste taking over Alastor, his eyes nearly black with lust once he takes in the sight of your swollen pussy with a grin that made you shiver.
“I’m s-sore..” Your body still shook from the intense orgasm you just had, “wait—”
“Shh,” Alastor hushed you, the wet sounds coming from your pussy seemingly louder now, “Relax, my dear.”
You whimpered, body tensing as you watched Alastor’s long slender fingers slide in and out of you with ease thanks to the natural lubricant of your arousal and his cum combined. Alastor finger fucked his cum back into you with a wide grin, only stopping when he was satisfied with the sight of your pretty pussy taking all of his cum again
Alastor traced delicate patterns along your inner thigh, his gaze locked on yours as he savored the rise and fall of your chest. "Such a beautiful sight," he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "I don't take words lightly, especially when they come from someone as captivating as you. Your mind, your body," he trailed kisses up your body, savoring each love mark along your neck, "and your soul—all are mine now."
A whispered affirmation escaped your lips, barely audible but filled with a depth of emotion that mirrored the intensity in Alastor's eyes. As your lips met in a slow, passionate kiss, the world around you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in a realm of shared desire and longing. His mouth silenced your moans as he deepened the kiss, each touch igniting a fire that consumed you both.
Exhausted yet content, you nestled into Alastor's embrace as he spooned you, his warmth enveloping you like a protective cocoon. The soft glow of the fireplace cast shadows on the walls, creating a tranquil ambiance that matched the peace settling over your spent bodies. Goosebumps danced across your skin as his hand traced gentle paths down your arm, pulling you closer to him.
In that moment, with your head resting against his chest and his heartbeat a steady rhythm beneath your ear, you drifted into a peaceful slumber. Alastor's whispered words—"Rest, my darling. We'll leave in the morning"—were the last echoes you heard before sleep claimed you, cocooning you in a world where love and warmth were the only realities.
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As Alastor lay beside you, the flickering flames of the fireplace began to dim, casting fleeting shadows across the room. Sensing the need for more wood to keep the fire alive, Alastor gently slipped out from under the covers, careful not to disturb your peaceful slumber. Unbeknownst to him, Mr. Ray had been lurking outside the window, his curiosity and fulfilling need to protect you getting the better of him as he watched Alastor's movements.
Silently slipping out into the cold night, Alastor made his way to the woodpile, his breath forming misty clouds in the chilled air. With practiced ease, he picked up the axe, lean muscles flexing as he did so, ready to chop the logs needed to fuel the dying fire. Little did he know that Mr. Ray, hidden in the shadows, had followed him, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and curiosity. Mr.Ray had been there long enough to witness the intimate moment you and Alastor shared, drawing his own conclusions about you and what exactly you meant to Alastor. Overall, he saw nothing but a couple being scandalous, your intimacy blanketed by the secrets of the night but there was just something off about Alastor that Mr.Ray couldn't shake and he wanted to find out what.
As Alastor swung the axe, the sound of wood splitting echoed in the quiet night. But it was a small twig under Mr. Ray's foot that betrayed his presence. Alastor's senses instantly sharpened, his instincts alert to the intruder in his domain. With a swift movement, he turned, the axe held firmly in his grasp, a murderous glint flickering in his eyes as he scanned the darkness with a playful grin. The killer had a hunch, a feeling, that something felt off when he brought you back to his place. Of course he thought it was his imagination or the voices in his head playing tricks on him but now he was certain that there was someone lurking in the shadows watching him.
As the twig snapped under Mr. Ray's foot, his heart raced with the realization that he had been discovered. Panic surged through him as he tried to retreat into the darkness, hoping to hide from Alastor's piercing gaze. However, before he could take more than a few steps, he heard the sound of footsteps closing in behind him.
Alastor, quick to react, had already sensed Mr. Ray's attempt to flee. Like a fox hunting a hare, he closed the distance between them in mere moments, his presence looming over Mr. Ray like a menacing shadow. The moonlight cast eerie shadows around them, adding to the suspense of the moment.
Mr. Ray's breath caught in his throat as he felt Alastor's presence right behind him, the cold steel of the axe chillingly close to his back. A shiver ran down his spine as he realized the danger he was in, trapped between the darkness of the night and the looming threat of Alastor.
Alastor's voice sliced through the tense silence, low and threatening. "Trying to sneak away, are we?" His words dripped with a dangerous edge, sending a chill down Mr. Ray's spine.
There was two choices Alastor had to make, he could kill him now or torture him later. Though you were here so that limited him to only one option, which was to kill him now. The murderer didn't mind that because as much as he wanted to drill some information out of him on why he was here, the sudden realization that he had been watching the both of you made a bubbling anger boil within him. He had watched you, in all your naked glory no doubt, and that thought alone made the rage spill over.
In that heart-stopping moment, Alastor raised the axe, the moonlight glinting off its sharp blade as it hovered ominously in the air. Mr. Ray's instincts screamed at him to run, but fear rooted him to the ground, unable to move.
The scene was frozen in time, the only sound being the faint rustle of leaves in the night breeze. With a swift and calculated movement, Alastor brought the axe down, the air splitting with the sound of its descent. That satisfying crunch of a skull crushing made Alastor smile, blood splattering all over his face and bare chest as he brought the axe down again, and again. His eyes, usually calm and collected, now glinted with a manic light as his true, psychotic nature spilled over.
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yusuke-of-valla · 2 years
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And now for this week’s edition of “someone in this family is being fucking weird and idk if it’s me”
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araminakilla · 1 year
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Regarding Death Wolf...
Hear me out (NO, it's not the kind you are thinking)
We know Death has a job, right? To collect souls and most likely release them to the afterlife.
And for this job, he has to be there when somebody is about to die, as demostrated with him being there moments before Puss' eight death.
Supposing he is THE Death and he has been doing this since the beginning of time (or at least when there were enough stories of the Grim Reaper to adquire a physical form) that means he has seen a lot, A LOT of awful things.
Murders, suicides, massacres, death of infants, people who didn't deserve to die alone, animal cruelty, some other heavy stuff I won't mention here, etc etc etc.
And we thought "man, how is he able to cope with all of that? That job has to be utter torture for someone."
Probably many of you could think that he is able to do that because he is Death, and he was "born" with that purpose and only him can reap souls perfectly.
But while he is a force of nature, he also WAS a force of nature. Let me explain it well: He adquired a personality enough to be angry, excited, frustrated, amazed, happy, among other emotions.
While he has supernatural power and is most likely the most powerful being in the Shrek Franchise (or in Dreamworks as many say) he is also a PERSON.
Someone with a code of honor, morals, opinions, beliefs, etc.
Returning to the question "How can he bear all of that?" taking into account he is no longer an inevitable force, but a character of his own.
The answer is something you may relate to, and that is: Creativity and escapism.
To be the embodiment of Death, the guy is a very creative fella.
First of all, his design. I heard many people saying here and in Twitter that his design is something they would come up in their edgy, teen years of drawing their first fursona.
Guess what? They are right, the wolf form is someone's fursona. It's DEATH'S fursona. He clearly came up with this badass, piercing canine form to blend with the Fairy Tale Land assuming the form of the "Big Bad Wolf". He most likely had other forms he designed over the centuries and was able to present as them like if he were on a role play game in the living world.
His sickles? The weapon of choice with the little crossed cats on it to have a bigger effect of terror for Puss? Those who can become knuckles and join to create a scythe? Those are his creation, probably after thinking it for a while and writing all of those functions on a paper.
The way he presents himself? In the bar? The coins in his eyes as a "watching you" sign while being a cool reference to the Ferryman of souls? He transforming Perrito's forest into the background of a skull? The chilling reveal at the Cave of Lost Souls? The fire ring? It was all him.
As for the escapism part...
When the world becomes too heavy to deal with as real life issues tend to make us feel bad, depressed, angry... we tend to escape it somewhere. And in our time the common place would be the internet as in webpages or comics, stories, etc.
But what has to do with Death Wolf you may ask?
Well, while he would NEVER be able to escape his job entirely, he can have moments where he can enjoy a good hunt of people who don't appreciate life, like the whole plot of the Puss in Boots sequel could demostrate.
He managed to have a little time outside his eternal routine to chase an arrogant cat who took life for granted. He enjoyed it, it was thrilling, it was exciting.
It was a way to escape a monotonous, grim "life", if just for a short moment.
So, when the chase ended as his prey no longer feared him and now was ready to fight for his last life, the wolf retreats, happy for Puss' character development but resigned because he once again had to return to "The Eternal Duty"
And that's not even counting all the times Jack "I'm dead inside" Horner had to interrupt Lobo's hunt and remind him of his job even in his "spare time"
Death knew the chase had to end eventually, but he didn't want it to end.
He didn't want to return to his own world
And if we look at Death like that, then he is probably one of the most relatable characters Dreamworks has ever make.
In the Shrek Franchise:
Monsters can be loved
Princesses don't have to fit the perfect standards of beauty
Handsome guys can be possesive jerks
Love at first sight doesn't work like one would think
Happily ever afters had to be built and not just obtain them with magic
And Death is the most creative and "full of life" being in the world
Because he would absolutely go crazy with his life/work if he wasn't.
Because in a world of Kings, Poets and Soldiers, he's the Supreme King
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And he's also a perky goth but none of you are ready for that conversation.
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pt XVI good omens season 2 (still not traumatic) episode 3 EDINBURGH
HELLO IT'S ME IT'S THE OFFICIAL GOOD OMENS MASCOT WHY DO I STILL KEEP INTRODUCING MYSELF IDK. If you don't know who I am, thank God and Satan for their mercy and flee. Also, the day after I post this, I'll be watching the last three episodes on livestream for the first time so. You know. I'm hyped on the energy of this being my last day not enveloped in tears. Take the summary:
Before the episode starts, someone asks why Crowley said in the last episode that Aziraphale couldn't fall because look at him, all angelic when Crowley looked the same as starmaker. I reply that "Crowley thinks he deserved it, he sees Azi as something beautiful and untouched while he probably sees himself as idk marked in some way so god kicked him down."
I am told that I am learning too fast to weaponise the narrative to induce angst. So then I say oh, I go too fast for you. Tears ensue.
The episode begins! Everyone shrieks about Edinburgh, David Tennant, how it is their favourite episode, and SCOTTISH CROWLEY.
We open with lesbians being gay, and then Muriel enters as Inspector Constable! They are very sweet and very determined to do their job right, and they are adopted by Crowley and Aziraphale just like Jim.
Crowley sits on Aziraphale's chair's arm. The maggots all swoon.
Fine, I also swooned.
Aziraphale gaslight-gatekeep-girlboss-mansplain-manipulate-manwhores his way into getting Crowley to give him the Bentley keys (BOUNDARIES. BOUNDARIES.).
WHAT PLENTY OF USE DO BOTH OF YOU GET OUT OF THE BOOKSHOP?
The really ineffable plan is whatever the fuck was happening in Aziraphale's brain when he somehow went from London to Edinburgh via Loch Ness (check the map) and then proceeded to disguise himself as a detective who pretends to be a journalist.
Crowley slays in sleeve garters and a cardigan keeping house in the bookshop meanwhile, does not sell books, instead cleans with Jimbriel and periodically yeets book stacks into corners when distracted.
Aziraphale reads his old diary entries about Crowley, a (6000+) 13 year old with a crush.
MINISODE MINISODE. They are in Edinburgh during the mid 1800s. Victorian outfits, check. Scottish Crowley, check. Capitalist Karen Aziraphale, che-wait what.
Huh. Well. There's a wee bit of body snatchin' going on, to sell to doctors for medical research because there aren't enough murderers, and to make enough money to survive.
Aziraphale channels his inner capitalist judgemental Karen and ruins that plan, come on Aziraphale you have religious trauma but you're better than this, and long story short, Wee Morag dies after Aziraphale realises his error, her friend Elspeth has to sell her corpse for pennies, and is about to commit suicide with laudanum. Azi, oh god. I'm glad you underwent character development at least.
NOW CROWLEY HERE SLAYS. I KNOW THIS IS AZIRAPHALE'S PERSPECTIVE AND IS BIASED. BUT WITH THIS POV, CROWLEY SLAYS.
He calmly educates Aziraphale about how his whole "the poor have more opportunities and you shouldn't give them money or they'll lose the virtue of poverty" is absolute bullshit, and he does this understanding Aziraphale's situation and not losing his temper.
The framing. The framing of the shot when they see Wee Morag and Elspeth sitting down on a step and explaining their situation. Aziraphale stands above, bustling with righteousness, and judges them. Crowley sits down. He sits down next to them, rather than taking the high ground. He meets them where they are and empathises. It is the fact that he is fallen and damned that makes him behave really divine and sorry I wrote a whole hymn on him have it I'll stop rambling just know I love him.
I think his amusement is a facade so hell won't think he's genuinely being good. I think he's morally grey and incredibly brave and kind.
When Elspeth is bouta kill herself with the laudanum, Crowley grabs it and drinks it himself, and grows tiny and then huge, absolutely high off his head. David Tennant takes the opportunity to travel Scotland from east to west in terms of accent variety.
He gives us the good message of NO DYIN'. NO MORE DYIN'. IT'S NOT ON. And then forces Aziraphale (who doesn't want to ruin her virtuous poverty) to give the girl all the guineas he has in his pocket, and tells her to go off and start a farm or something. BUT NOT JUST PRETENDY GOOD, BE PROPERLY GOOD.
He then gets pulled into hell. To be punished for this. Aziraphale is frightened and heartbroken for him, looking around desperately, and we find out that Crowley didn't meet him for a while after. And later he wanted holy water. To protect himself? He got punished by hell. For how long? The whole month in between the incident and the diary entry? There can't be anyone better at punishment and cruelty than hell.
Sorry I'm just screaming here.
Never mind fuck I started this summary really happy and bouncy and listening to a dance playlist. Dionysus by BTS and Italian pop is still playing and now I'm crying.
Is this the natural progression. Fuck I'm crying. Sorry guys something else happens with Aziraphale politely talking to a phone and Crowley smiling really beautifully while unsuccessfully trying to manipulate two lesbians into a relationship and something about a visit I don't care everyone's being morally dubious as usual and then lovely Scottish music outro I CAN'T FUCKING ELABORATE I'M SITTING HERE CRYING OVER CROWLEY.
right summary done, time to go sob, lmao i thought i wouldn't cry today over good omens HAHAHAHA still not traumatic eh HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
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ahxu-laowen · 1 year
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I see you're a GL enthusiast and others have often tagged you in GL related content... As someone who has consumed a little BL and is curious about quality GL stories, do you have like 2 or 3 recs for me? Thank you!
hi!! i'm so glad you asked *pulls out a presentation on all the gl crumbs i've collected over the years*
we don't have a lot (yet!!!!) it's mostly miniseries, short films and side couples but i'll try my best to put together a list of my personal picks hope you'll be able to find something you like <3
first of all here's some of the longer / higher production stuff we've got
Sleep With Me
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Philippines, 6 eps, iWantTFC and GagaOOLala
tw ableism
100/10 can't possibly recommend it enough. a beautiful and sweet story, not too heavy but still complex, the actresses have amazing chemistry that made me all giggly, disability rep, high quality everything. oh and the screenwriter&director is sapphic herself!!
(if the other options don't work for you or you want to make gifs you can download the episodes here)
Fragrance of The First Flower
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Taiwan, 6 eps, GagaOOLala
tw homophobia
great acting, writing, cinematography, music, created by a sapphic woman, one of the main actresses is openly bi BUT it has a sad ending (sorry for the spoiler) so if that's something you avoid this show might not be for you
The Handmaiden
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Korea, movie, Netflix, Prime, Apple TV
tw graphic violence, abuse
a wlw classic, absolute masterpiece, has a surprisingly happy ending. highly recommend if you haven't watched it already
Couple of Mirrors
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China, 12 eps, youtube
tw murder, guns
based on a gl manhua but it's china so the show is censored meaning that there's no explicit declaration of romantic love. however it's all still very obvious and i love this couple dearly, they have a v interesting dynamic. and xu youyi is one of my favorite characters of all time, what a woman. the ending is ??? but there's some hope for a second season
now onto the miniseries
Girlfriend Project Day 1
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Korea, 4 eps, youtube
fake dating, enemies to lovers, super cute. very short but the second season has been announced 🥳🥳
you can also find a mv starring the lead actresses here
Nevertheless (side couple)
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Korea, 10 eps
don't watch the whole show you really don't need that just watch the soljiwan cut it can stand on its own as a miniseries (i've watched it here i think it's a really nice cut)
best friends to lovers, mutual pining, absolutely delicious. had me crying screaming throwing up
My Fairy Ghost
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Japan, 4 eps, youtube
romance between two artists, one alive and the other not so much. don't worry though this has the happiest ending!!!!
Magic of Zero: Zero Photography
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Thailand, 1 ep, youtube
tw body image issues
if you're a bl fan you've probably already watched bad buddy (if you haven't you really should). this is a sequel about the gl side couple from that series but it can stand alone. it's an incredibly cute story about established girlfriends with a fantasy element. it should be obvious from my blog how obsessed i am with these girls aksghsksks
Out of Breath
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Korea, 3 eps, youtube
a sweet story about two women who met on a dating app. tbh i don't remember much about this apart from the fact that i liked it
She Makes My Heart Flutter
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Korea, 5 eps, youtube
from the same director as out of breath. a story about two lesbians, niece and aunt, navigating their queer lives. an awesome sapphic friend group, multiple romantic subplots. it's currently airing so tune in <3
Chinese miniseries and short films
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i'm putting them all into one category because there's a lot of them but they're all rather short. some of the longer ones are legend of yunqian, legend of yunze, led astray by love, the vampires, a practical guide to being a superstar's assistant. because they're so short the stories are generally too fast-paced and the production is not high by any means but they're all so beautiful and cute and i enjoy them a lot so i decided to include them in the list. you can find all of the ones i mentioned and more here and here
(the screenshot is from the short film the fox spirit and the little priest you can find it on youtube)
i'm sure i've forgotten something but here's the list for now, enjoy 💗 tell me what you think if you watch anything i'm curious 👀 sorry for such a late reply as you can see i got a bit carried away....
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