#I don't know what do do with all these birds thoughts
Note
I can offer you an idea of yandere alastor.. What would it be like if alastor as a child knew the reader... Like I imagine alastor as a child not knowing how to act properly like a human, and the reader as a good best friend helping him seems more human (and not because the child reader is scared of him) ... Actually, what would happen?
Wrote this instead of working on my finals hope you enjoyed it!
Yandere! Alastor x Childhood friend! Reader
Warning: Animal death, blood, its YANDERE
WC: ~1.5k
Charlie dragged the whole hotel for another ‘trust’ session, this time, she had the great idea for the sinners to share stories from when they were alive. Granted, some of them were eager to share, namely Nifty and Angel Dust, Husk would share some here or there, although it's mostly due to Charlie and Angel pushing him to. Alastor on the other hand kept quiet during the whole ordeal, until the topic of childhood friends came up.
“I had a childhood friend once, such a sweetheart. Wouldn't leave me alone to play with others!,” Alastor let the statement linger in the air, casually sipping on his coffee.
The other members of the Hotel look aat him with mouths agape, shocked and surprised at the fact that THE Alastor, Radio Demon, Dealmaker, HAD FRIENDS? Moreover, a childhood friend?? Someone stayed friends with him since they were children???
“Don't look at me like I am incapable of having proper friendships, and no, you cannot ask them about me as a child because they're simply not a sinner! Oh imagine my disappointment when I didn't find them down here,” his eyes glazed over in slight rage as he thought about how you weren't here.
Very disappointing that I will never be able to hold my beloved again. What I would do to be able to chain them to my side once more…
“Well don't leave us hangin’, whose this sweetheart of you’s?,” the white spider interjected.
He tells them your name, sighing dreamily as he starts to reminisce about the times you were together when you were children.
You were the child of one of his momma's clients, a bubbly little thing, always eager to play with him regardless of how cold he is to you.
His momma was your family's personal tailor, and by God were you a spoiled little thing. Every week you would ask for 2-3 outfits to be created for you, although it looked more like costumes than everyday wear but he doesn't complain, as long as your family treated him and his momma with respect.
Nonetheless, he refuses to be close to you, considering you as a bother, but of course, he would never admit that to you, lest he wants his momma to get in trouble.
He hasn't always looked forward to when his momma brings him to your house, namely due to you clinging to him every time you meet. There's one thing in your mansion that he’s quite fond of though, once he manages to escape from your grasp, he sneaks into the woods behind your house, gazing at all the wildlife roaming around your property.
One time, he found an injured bird crying close to him, it tried to get away from him but he eventually caught it in a tight grip, it chirped and cried but Alastor just gripped tighter and tighter until, pop!
Blood trailed down his hands and onto the forest floor below, unbeknownst to him, he had a huge grin on his face, too pleased with the mutilation of the poor bird. A gasp resonates behind him and he quickly drops the bird, face stilling at the fact that he got caught.
When he turned his body to you, your eyes were full of tears staring at his hands that he didn't bother to hide. He prepared himself to hunt you down to make sure you wouldn't tattle on his momma but your next words made him stop in place.
“Are you okay???” you rushed to his side, pulling out a handkerchief and started to wipe off the blood coating his stained hand.
In response, the child looked at you aghast, stupefied at the concern you were showing, marking yourself vulnerable to the predator towering over your much shorter build. He could kill you if he could, he can lie and tell your parents that a bear found both of you and killed you, that he tried to save you but was unable to. But then again… as you fret over him, a thought passes through his mind.
You are too kind for your own good, just like momma. Don't worry I’ll protect you.
Alastor raises the now somewhat clean hand, and he notes how you didn't even flinch at it, and just looked at him with your wide, innocent eyes. The hand lowers to pat you on the head, ruffling your hair a little bit.
“I am fine, I tried to save a bird but it was too hurt to be saved,” he shows off the bird, face devoid of any emotions.
You frowned at it and suddenly went on your knees and started digging a grave with your hands.
Alastor furrowed his eyebrows and questioned what you were doing, you responded with, “I’m digging a grave for the birdie, I don't want them to die without a proper burial.”
The boy helped you after a few moments of silence. Once you were done, you clasped your hands together, covered in dirt and blood, silently looking at him to do the same. Look at you, as a child of a rich man you shouldn't be on your knees covering yourself in filth, but perhaps he should indulge his angel for a little bit.
As you started praying he couldn't help but let the bitterness consume his mind. God wouldn't care about frivolous things like this, prayers do nothing, if it did, how come he and his momma are still at the mercy of that monster of a man he calls his father?
“Amen.”
You offer your filthy hand to him, gazing at him with a smile that could rival the sun. Perhaps the only good thing that God has done, is sending down an angel for him to play with.
“You should smile more, you look very pretty,” he raises an eyebrow at that, startled by your bluntness. Admittedly, he can feel himself flush at your compliment.
“Do you like it when I smile?” he hums, taking your hand. Both of you started to walk back to your manor.
“I do! Mommy always said ‘you’re never fully dressed without a smile’ and that's why I always smile!”
“Then I'll smile a lot for you,” he tried to smile, but it looked more like a grimace.
“You're doing it wrong! It's like this,” you show off your smile, toothy and wide.
He tries again and ultimately fails, you pout at him cutely when he failed, and he couldn't help but smile, genuinely smile at that. In response you shout out ‘like that!’, and start vibrating in excitement that you managed to make him smile.
It was almost nightfall when you eventually managed to get home safely, albeit covered in dirt and grime. What greeted you both were your father, stressed beyond belief, and his mother, on the verge of tears. They both rushed to you guys and hugged the both of you, fretting and scolding at how worried they are, they asked you and Alastor what happened and you, being the loudmouth you are, told them the story that you know.
Both adults are relieved to hear that you both are safe, they rushed you to clean yourselves up. Ever since then, Alastor has been looking forward to every visit they had to your house. And every single visit has been a learning moment for him, day by day he learns what you like and what you don't like.
You like gentlemen? The next time you meet, he offers you his arm to hold. Do you like poetry? He memorizes your favourite poems to recite whenever you're bored. Do you like food and cooking? He begs his momma to teach him her infamous Jambalaya and other comfort foods to cook for you.
Alastor molded himself to become your ideal man, the most perfect gentleman that ever existed in your life. But then…
“Then what...? But then what??” Angel exclaimed when Alastor trailed off with a cliffhanger. Everyone leaned towards him, captivated by the story he shared. He smiles cryptically, but still doesn't respond.
“Oh well, it seems like it's almost supper time, I should work on it, wouldn't want to be late for dinner hmm?”
Everyone collectively groaned at the cliffhanger, they wanted to know what happened after, but they couldn't complain much lest they want to be part of Alastor's radio broadcast.
Alastor turns away from them, humming to himself as he walks towards where the kitchen is.
But then you had to die as a saint. You had to marry that disgusting excuse of a man you called your husband, and now he killed you. My beloved, was I not enough? Was I not perfect for you? You would have been safe if you were with me… Don't worry, I made sure that ‘husband’ of yours regretted ever hurting you. May this be an offering to my angel.
A haunting scream pierces through hell, amplified by the speakers scattered around the pride ring.
Support me here so I would be more likely to write more fics 🤭
#yandere x reader#yandere hazbin hotel#yandere hazbin hotel x reader#yandere alastor x reader#yandere alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#alastor x you#Hazbin hotel alastor#alastor hazbin hotel
127 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nightingale 🕊
Dick Grayson x reader
《A/N》: first piece for Dickie bird!! Truthfully, I just whipped this up really quick for my dear friend @allysunny . There isn't much I can do, but I hope this helps a little bit <33
If it's too personal, let me know, and I'll take it down 🫶🏻
~Fi 🐝
《Content》: lots of comfort from Dick. reader is stressed bc of school work. Dickie being the best boyfriend 🩷
《Word count》: 1.5k
Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──☁️── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──☁️── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Not only the moon that hung high in the sky but the burning light of your laptop illuminated your face as your tired eyes ran over the words again. With a shaky sigh you closed the device and dragged a hand down your face before a frustrated groan left your throat.
Your forehead rested on your desk as you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to ignore the salty sting in your eyes and your closing throat.
"Stupid grading system, stupid classmates..." you forced through your tightened throat, hoping that your wrath and frustration would somehow reach your fellow students on a spiritual level and make them stub their toe or spill their hot drink.
Or accidently end up in crossfire from the many shootings taking place in Gotham. You weren't picky.
Your fingers threaded through your hair and tugged at the roots, trying to get the blizzard of feelings out of your chest.
Before you had any chance to stop it, a few hot tears of frustration trickled down your face, adding to the overwhelming state you were in.
The hard wooden surface of your desk started to hurt your head, pressing unpleasantly agaisnt your forehead. A dull and pulling ache ran up your neck as well, courtesy of the weird twisting position it was in. You couldn't find it in yourself to care, pulling at the strands of your hair.
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.
Dick sighed out in relief once he slipped through the window of your shared livingroom. Patrol wasn't too rough tonight, but he could feel the soreness in his muscle setting in.
A fair consequence after being a bit of a show off with his gymnastic skills.
Your warm apartment was a welcome contrast to the biting cold Gotham nights he knew all too well. Dick wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with you and be enveloped by the love that never failed to warm his heart.
He took his mask off his face and ran his hand through his black locks, trying to distract himself from his buzzing skin. The Nightwing suit felt all too tight right now and he couldn’t wait to get it off.
His eyes fell on the bedroom door, slightly ajar, and he cocked a brow. You should be asleep. He let out a sharp breath. He'd told you to sleep. But deep down he knew you'd be up and about the second you heard the window close.
"Stubborn girl..." he grumbled, albeit with a soft and worried intention behind his words.
You could see the door being pushed open from the corner of your eye as a big block of black and blue stepped in.
"Honey..." he said softly followed by a sigh after seeing your hunched over and distraught form at your desk.
"Hi Dickie." You replied, absolutely defeated. The feelings of anger and frustration had faded and left was only the deep sadness of being treated so unfairly.
"Hey, pretty..." his brows scrunched together, not liking how sad and tired you sounded.
"What's wrong, hm? 'Told you to get some sleep." He spoke quietly, prying your hands away from tugging at your hair and replacing them with his, gently petting your locks.
His touch made it even harder to fight the tears you've been trying to hold in. All you wanted was for him to hold you and make everything go quiet, even if it was just for tonight.
You stayed silent for a moment, Dick kneeling next to you.
"Got an e-mail about that presentation.." you explained, ready to break into tears at the mere thought of it. He gently turned your head so you could see him.
"Give me five minutes to get out of this suit and I'm yours, alright? You can tell me all about." He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and you nodded your head.
His comforting touch left you in the blink of an eye as he whisked off to the bathroom. With a quick rummage through his drawer, he was already prying at his spandex prison.
Luckily, he had nimble fingers and was back at your side within the promised five minutes, much more comfortable and ready to be your shoulder to cry on.
"C'mon, sweetheart. Let's get tucked in, yeah?" His voice was gentle and soothing, drawing you in like it always did.
Dick took your hand and helped you into bed, knowing well that you didn't need his assistance physically but that you needed to be cared for right now.
You were cuddled up next to him, wrapped in his embrace and your cozy blanket while he stroked your cheek. He frowned slightly at the couple of salty streaks that had ready dried on your skin.
"Are you okay to tell me what happened?" He asked carefully, not wanting to overstep. You took in a shaky breath.
"D'you remember that project I told you about? You know, that hig presentation with lots of other people?" He hummed in response, listening attentively.
"Well... they fucked it up. None of them were prepared, they were sputtering like a rusty engine- one chick even finished her text while one member was already presenting." You complained, feeling the distaste for such unreliable people bubble up in your chest once again.
"And now..." there was a slight crack in your voice when you spoke, making Dick holding you just a little bit tighter," they're dragging me down with them. I was prepared, I did good, but I get a shit grade too now. It's not fair."
You choked on the last word, finally letting the tears spill. You were already so overwhelmed with work, with things you needed to do that you had no time for, you didn't need a grade you needed to fix just because studying was such a foreign concept to some people.
"It's not fair, Dickie..." you cried, head resting on his shoulder with his head on top of yours. His heart cracked a little. You were such a hard worker, always going above and beyond to achieve your goals. Only to be dragged down due to a chain reaction.
"I'm sorry, baby, you don't deserve that. I know how hard you worked on that. Those assholes didn't even try.." he huffed, wiping at your ever flowing tears.
"A-And now the teacher sent an e-mail which is basically just her saying how disappointed she is and that we're doing terrible." You sobbed, needing all that stress to go somewhere. Dick maneuvered you even closer to him, stroking your back at a comforting pace.
"If anything, they're doing terrible. You did great, honey, okay? You'll figure it out. And I'll be here to support you, you know that. I'm sure you can contact the teacher and work something out. But I just want you to know- look at me.." he said softly, tilting your head to look at him. It pained him to be see you so upset.
He much preferred your pretty lips pulled up into a bright smiled instead of the wobbly pout with tear stained cheeks it was in now.
"I want you to know... that everything will be okay. You will be okay. I promise you." His voice was clear but quiet and soft as he gently bumped his nose against yours.
"You will be okay." He whispered, holding you tightly as you got the last of your sobs out and your breathing evened. They were sweet murmurs against your temple as he had you pressed against his chest, stroking your hair.
Dick held you as the moon shone through the window, he held you until it was covered by clouds and you were plunged into a grey darkness. He held you and wiped and kissed your tears away even as faint peak of colors emerged from the horizon. You were exhausted with puffy eyes as you laid in his embrace, the burden on your chest lightened for now.
You glanced up and saw how dark the bags under his eyes were, but despite that, he was still smiling down on you with a look so sweet and loving you could feel your teeth ache.
"How 'bout we make ourselves a cozy day tomorrow, hm? I'll read you Pride and Prejudice, we can have some cake, cuddle all day.." he trailed off, have of it in a slur as he struggled to keep his eyes open.
"I'd love that." You sighed with a sleepy smile, tangling your fingers together.
"You can sing for me, too.." Dick yawned, scooching further down the bed and tucking himself under the blanket, with you tightly held to his chest, of course. You giggled softly, craning your neck to press a kiss to his cheek.
"My lovely, little Nightingale..." he murmured, a dopey smile on his lips.
"I love you, Dickie bird." You said softly, bringing your lips to his in a sweet kiss before sleep took you away.
"I love you more, honey." He mumbled against your lips, content as ever, with his beloved Nightingale snug in his embrace.
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ──☁️── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
You're gonna be okay, I promise <3
More of my works --> 💫
《DC taglist》: @certifiedredhoodlover @allysunny @hellonheels-x @gaozorous-rex-blog
#bumblebeesfromvenus#dick grayson x reader#richard grayson#nightwing x reader#robin x reader#nightwing x you#dc x reader#dcu#dc comics
110 notes
·
View notes
Text
"need a light?"
you glance up from your sputtering lighter, the last hint of the flame dying out. aventurine gives you a smug little grin. you sigh, but lean forward when he produces his own lighter—gold-plated, embossed with a spade—and flicks it to life.
a breeze stirs, whipping through the alleyway. he cups his hand around the flame to keep it from guttering out. his fingers are long and bird-boned, deceptively delicate.
you breathe in until the tip of your cigarette burns, a sunset catching fire at the edge of the horizon. you exhale, the smoke wisping out from your mouth.
"how'd you find me?" you ask.
his smile gleams; you think of the moon hanging high in the sky, a lonely mirror.
"c'mon," he says. "you gotta give me a little more credit."
you hum. "i give you plenty of credit."
"not enough, apparently."
"apparently. what do you want?"
"maybe i just want the pleasure of your company."
you pin him with a deadpan stare; he laughs, the sound bright like champagne, a crisp pop of sound. it shows his teeth.
"spit it out, aventurine," you say.
"aren't you going to offer me a cigarette?"
you roll your eyes, but you hold out your case. he slips one free and twirls it deftly. he tucks it between the sly curve of his lips, but he doesn't go for his lighter. there's a challenge in his eyes.
you exhale a sharp stream of smoke. then you slink forward into his space, until the tip of your cigarette presses against his, the cherry of it burning bright. he leans in closer. despite the smoke, you can still catch a hint of his cologne, citrusy with a marine kiss of ambergris.
this close, you could count his sun-gold eyelashes. he gazes at you from beneath them. the heat of his breath curls between the two of you. there's a promise hanging in the air.
his cigarette catches; he pulls away. the chilly air rushes in to fill the space between you, leaving you cold.
he exhales, a dragon's breath of smoke. "that's better," he says. "thanks."
"just tell me why you're here."
"c'mon, don't be cold. we're friends!"
"we're something," you drawl.
he grins; a shiver ripples down your spine. "we're something," he agrees.
you take another drag. "don't you have important things to be doing? saps to swindle? you know i'm not one of them."
aventurine gazes at you for a moment, his bi-colored eyes sharp. in the dim, they almost seem to glow. he blows out a stream of smoke.
"no," he says. "you're not."
something stirs in your chest. there's warmth to it, the soft heat of hearthstones long after the fire has gone out. you grimace.
"aventurine."
he hums.
you sigh, dropping your cigarette butt and grinding it out beneath your heel. "go home," you say. "there's nothing here for the ipc."
"we both know that's not true."
you hiss out an annoyed breath. "you don't know when to quit, do you?"
"it's all or nothing," he says, a coy grin blooming on his lips. "i thought you knew that by now."
you push off the wall you've been leaning against. "i do. that's why i don't bet with you."
he laughs. you ignore him and head for the door that leads out to the alley. he catches you by the wrist. before you can pull free, he slips his lighter into your palm. he curls your fingers closed over it, his touch lingering.
"what—"
"since yours isn't working," he says, letting go. the heat of him lingers on your skin. you try to press it back into his hand; he pulls away before you can. "ah ah, no take backs."
you sigh, tucking it away in a pocket. "fine. thanks."
he'll come back for it later. you both know it.
"bye," you say, slipping by him. you open the door; the sound of the casino spills out.
"catch you later," he says. once, you'd have thought it was flippant. but now—
it sounds a lot like a promise.
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
I have an alternate pale theory…
Consider this like a ‘Pale-AU’ (i.e. I know it is probably not supported by canon, and certainly not supported by some other works like Joshua Jenkins designs, for example… also I haven’t finished reading PJÕL, so maybe my ideas will change after that) but I started thinking about it as a “what-if” situation: If there were to be a direct sequel to Disco Elysium :insert prayer hands:, how could we reconcile the multitude of different Harrys the player could create? What about the fates of other characters? Some change due to our influence, some die. How could a sequel storyline somehow accept all those possible variances? Introducing my almost-certainly not-correct pale theory!TM using a little bit of in-game info, some real-life stuff, and a sprinkle of imagination!
Caution: Many spoilers ahead.
So what is Pale -- just the past?
After you talk to the Phasmid you’re given the impression that humans/people created the pale accidentally (with thinking and memory and ideas and invention?); and after talking to Joyce you learn that some think the pale is “rarified past.” It’s all pretty nebulous, but I think that the pale being a product (or a by-product) of the human mind/memory is close to what could be accepted as the canon origin of the pale:
INSULINDIAN PHASMID - The pale, too, came with you. No one remembers it before you. The cnidarians do not, the radially symmetricals do not. There is an almost unanimous agreement between the birds and the plants that you are going to destroy us all.
YOU - Wait, the pale is human made?
INSULINDIAN PHASMID - It is a nervous shadow cast into the world by you, eating away at reality. A great, unnatural territory. Its advent coincides with the arrival of the human mind.
YOU - I don't have that kind of power.
INSULINDIAN PHASMID - You are a violent and irrepressible miracle. The vacuum of cosmos and the stars burning in it are afraid of you. Given enough time you would wipe us all out and replace us with nothing -- just by accident.
YOU - ...how?
INSULINDIAN PHASMID - We suspect it will be something like the oxygen holocaust that wiped out anaerobic life 2.6 billion years ago -- when organisms first started breathing. Only much worse.
CONCEPTUALIZATION - Instead of air, you exhale thoughts. There are no trees that eat thoughts.
JOYCE MESSIER – "Some say the damage stems from extreme sensory deprivation. Others argue that pale somehow *consists* of past information, that's degrading. That it's rarefied past, not rarefied matter."
JOYCE MESSIER – "They call it *the blend-over of the self*. The pale does not only suspend the laws of physics, but also the laws of psychology, maybe History, even... The human mind becomes over-radiated by past."
YOU – "Who says and who argues?"
JOYCE MESSIER – "The logical positivists say -- the dialectical materialists argue."
An effect of the Pale is “entroponetical crosstalk" which you can experience when you use the doorbell intercom outside the whirling and hear the woman speaking from Tricentennial Electrics a long time ago, and additionally the old pale driver also talks to you about how she’s experienced the past in the pale, like the assassination of Dolores Dei. Both are snippets of human past:
KIM KITSURAGI - "It was a recording trapped in the circuitry. From some ancient tenant. This sometimes happens. Shall we conclude here? We have other mysteries to solve."
YOU - "I do have one mystery that still needs solving... the radio ghost in the Doomed Commercial Area's electronic doorbell."
SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "The creepy woman!" She slaps her forehead. "We were wondering about that when we worked there... but I had completely forgotten about it ever since!"
SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "It must be entroponetic crosstalk. The one you get in radios and long-distance calls... Now it makes sense, with the pale right on the doorstep."
KIM KITSURAGI - "Incredible..." the lieutenant murmurs. "This would also explain why we get it on the police radio all the time."
YOU - "Entroponetic crosstalk?"
SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "It's quite common actually. When the signal gets routed through pale, all kinds of irregularities take place. You may hear snippets of someone else's conversation, or the voice of your former lover, or an echo of an event that took place 100 years ago."
SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "Pale is a shroud of memories and it doesn't really distinguish to whom those memories belong to. You could hear anything."
PALEDRIVER - "You don't need to turn back time. The pale is already churning with it. As the tide of pale rises, so does the past. Someday both will cover the whole world. That's it. That's the story."
PALEDRIVER - "They say there is a point -- one that *I* have not crossed -- in the pale superdeep. If you stray too far off course on the U41-A, or in Lomonossov's Land... where every step you take is one step further from home, no matter the direction."
PALEDRIVER - "It's a point you cannot come back from. Your mind becomes so radiant with the past -- there is a flip." She flicks the ash from her cigarette. "Instead of writing, it erases memory. Nearing some kind of..." She shakes her head. "Indescribable *finale*."
PALEDRIVER - "Like Gabriel Buenguerro in 'Segure-me, Paraíso'..." She nods and smiles, unkindly. "You're the opposite of me then. I remember everything -- even the things I never knew."
YOU - "Things you never knew?"
PALEDRIVER - "The smell of liquor on Gabriel's lips after the shoot. In the motor park. The roses on the day of Franconegro's coronation. On the grand stairs of Raehl. The smoke from the fowling piece, when Dolores Dei was shot..."
PALEDRIVER - "The look on her face -- like an orgasm. The wound in her chest. My hand in my father's hand..." She closes her eyes, her eyelids trembling. "Except I never had a father. And I never shot Her Innocence Dolores Dei."
..
PALEDRIVER - "Thought insertion? *Dithering*? The Graad-Katla Magistral?" She savours the lungful. "It's more than dangerous -- it's *sad*. But... at first I had to make a living. Now..."
So you’d think Joyce’s theory checks out, it’s all history/memory---BUT! I did the moralist political quest my first play thru, and when you are trying to contact the airship you also get radio crosstalk from the pale.
KIM KITSURAGI - "It's cold now..."
SHIVERS - A slight frisson at the point where your neck meets your spine. Something about the lieutenant's words, directed at you, but not *you*...
YOU - "It's really coming down, now that you mention it."
KIM KITSURAGI - "Mention what?"
YOU - "It's cold, like you just said."
KIM KITSURAGI - "I didn't say anything, detective."
KIM KITSURAGI - "...someone has been maintaining it. The wiring has been repaired..."
HORSEBACK ANTENNA - An uncomfortable silence falls over the connection.
KIM KITSURAGI - "... It's been a long winter... Long and cold..."
YOU - "Are you going to tell me you didn't say *that*, either?"
KIM KITSURAGI - "I promise you, I didn't, even though it certainly *sounds* like me..." The lieutenant seems to wince at the sound of his own voice.
YOU - "It must be entroponetic crosstalk. It's the only explanation."
NOID - "So your partner's haunting himself. Trying to warn him off his current path, most like."
KIM KITSURAGI - "It's eerie, for certain, but also harmless. I just wish I could remember what I was talking about..."
ESPRIT DE CORPS - Something here is eating at the lieutenant, as much as he would like to move past it.
You can even hear it if Kim is not with you:
KIM KITSURAGI - "It's cold now..."
SHIVERS - A slight frisson at the point where your neck meets your spine. You can *feel* the lieutenant's presence, even though he's nowhere to be found...
YOU - "Kim? How did you get on my connection?"
NOID - "Whoa, the cop's *own partner* is a radio-spooker. That's some *other core* business right there..."
HORSEBACK ANTENNA - ...
KIM KITSURAGI - "...someone has been maintaining it. The wiring has been repaired..."
YOU - "Kim! Answer me."
NOID - "No use, man. Don't think he can hear you."
YOU - "I've encountered this before. It's entroponetic crosstalk. This is a piece of the past mixing in with our signal."
NOID - "What..."
KIM KITSURAGI - "It's been a long winter... Long and cold."
NOID - "What have you gotten us into, lawman?"
HALF LIGHT - Just *run*. Unplug that headset and get as far away as you can.
YOU - "Kim? How did you get on my connection?"
…
YOU - "What is he talking about?"’
SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "I believe you mean, what *was* he talking about."
YOU - "Wait, what are *you* talking about?"
KIM KITSURAGI - "It's been a long winter... Long and cold."
SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "It sounds very much like entroponetic crosstalk. It happens sometimes when sending transmissions across long stretches of pale..."
Except IT'S NOT FROM THE PAST. It is Kim talking from the future, from the fort on the island. Which hasn’t happened yet.
And it can possibly NOT HAPPEN.
You hear Kim say this stuff even if he gets shot and doesn’t come with you to the island.
During gameplay they kind of just go “huh, how strange and spooky...” and don’t really delve into it.
But that completely changes the pale right? It’s not just past, it’s also future, and not just the ONLY future, POSSIBLE future.
So, my theory is that the pale is multiverse colliding: the near pale is the places where these universes begin to overlap, and deep pale is where universes overlap to such a degree they are cancelling themselves out into nothing.
Fungal communication – mycorrhizal network
When Joyce talks to you, she talks about a fungus growing at the edge of the porch collapse. I think this fungus could be acting like a mycorrhizal network, which in our world are an underground networks connecting fungi and plants allowing them to communicate or share information. I think the fungi/spores in Elysium pop up at origin points and thrive along the porch collapse and are allowing the universes to “talk” to each other.
SOONA, THE PROGRAMMER - "I understand..." She closes her eyes. "A theory of the pale where instead of an *outer ocean* it metastasises -- like a cancer or a mould -- erupting in points *inside* the world."
JOYCE MESSIER - "An uproar of matter, darling, *rising* into the pale. Rolling. Evaporating even, a great vision. The area of transition between the world and the pale is called *porch collapse*."
JOYCE MESSIER - "Imagine a grey coronal mist, cold vapour, marked by spores of an opportunistic microorganism -- a mould that's adapted to grow at the edge of the unrest. It's..."
JOYCE MESSIER - She closes her eyes and breathes out heavily: "... the most *disco* thing you will ever see.
INLAND EMPIRE - The white noise turns into a wall of mist and grey mould, bubbling, sweeping over the city... it tears up buildings and raises sidewalks into the sky. It's Revachol -- at the end of the world.
INLAND EMPIRE - ...and it hasn't even really started yet.
Destructive interference – “le gris”
When Lena tells you about the cryptid the Col Do Ma Ma Da Qua, you learn that they are nearly extinct because the scientists played back their own calls and since they are creatures made of sound, the recordings cancelled out the birds. They died because the signals matched and cancelled each other out.
LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "It's the *Col Do Ma Ma Daqua*," the woman corrects her glasses. "Its name means 'thin whisper of sound'. And that's *precisely* what it is -- self-replicating sound waves, invisible and intangible! The Col Do Ma Ma is very afraid of us, which makes it incredibly difficult to track..."
YOU - "Why is the Ma Ma Daqua so afraid of us?"
LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - "That is a sad story." She frowns. "A group of university students assisting with the field work, in their enthusiasm for the project and, no doubt, because they were preoccupied with impressing their professors, nearly drove it to *extinction*."
YOU - "Extinction?"
LENA, THE CRYPTOZOOLOGIST'S WIFE - She nods gravely. "They tried to communicate with it, and had no other means but sound. So they started sending out sound waves at frequencies they thought might match the Ma Ma Daqua's. And what happens when a sound wave meets another sound wave of the same frequency, dear?"
YOU - "They cancel each other out."
So... admittedly this doesn’t directly connect to the pale, but it’s illustrating the concept of signals cancelling each other out and, I'm going to say, indicates that this concept is possible in Elysium. The pale is destruction, the overlap between universes causes matter, physics, and even numbers to dissolve. The more complete the overlap, the more complete the destruction.
In conclusion...
According to my theory, the pale is the areas of the world that are affected by these fungal organisms that allow very similar, but different universes to communicate with each other, and since their 'signals' are so alike, they are being cancelled out.
So why did I force myself to jump thru these mental hoops? I think having a multiverse like this would make a sequel more possible since there are so many ways the game can be played. Any possible playthrough would be its own universe. Having a multiverse like this acknowledges and validates any play thru as 'canon,' no player will feel that they somehow played the game “wrong.” Whatever Harry appearing in the sequel is one of the possible Harrys even if he wasn’t “your” Harry. If a character died, they died only in some of the universes, not all. Whatever world the sequel would take place in is just one of the many possibilities.
Anyway, I thought WAYYYY too much about this and now you can too. Sorry!
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
mitski songs that make me think of reid + a specific lyric
spencer reid is very mitski. but these were the first to come to mind. i do not take criticism.
- working for the knife
honestly, the entire song reminds me of reid, but this in particular:
I always thought the choice was mine
And I was right, but I just chose wrong
I start the day lying and end with the truth
That I'm dying for the knife
- liquid smooth
I'm liquid smooth, come touch me, too
I'm at my highest peak, I'm ripe
About to fall
How I feel this river rushing through my veins
With nowhere else to go, it circles 'round
- class of 2013
Mom, would you wash my back?
This once, and then we can forget
And I'll leave what I'm chasing
For the other girls to pursue
Mom, am I still young?
Can I dream for a few months more?
- i don't smoke
Just don't leave me alone
Wondering where you are
I am stronger than you give me
Credit for
If your hands need to break
More than trinkets in your room
You can lean on my arm
As you break my heart
- abbey
again, the entire song is very reid, but:
I am something
I have been something
I was born something
What could I be?
There is a light that I can see
But only, it seems, when there's darkness in me
There is a dream that I sometimes see
That only appears in the dark of sleep
- i bet on losing dogs
Will you let me, baby, lose
On losing dogs
I know they're losing and I'll pay for my place
By the ring
Where I'll be looking in their eyes when they're down
I wanna feel it
I bet on losing dogs
I always want you when I'm finally fine
- the deal
Then of course, nothing replied, nothing speaks to you in the night
And I walked my way home, there was no one in sight
Save a bird perched upon a streetlight, watchin' me
So, I stopped and let it watch 'til I found that it said
"Now I'm taken, the night has me
You won't hear me singin'
You're a cage without me
Your pain is eased, but you'll never be free for
Now I'm taken, the night has me"
- fireworks
this is perhaps one of the reid-est. here's the particular lyric:
One morning this sadness will fossilize
And I will forget how to cry
I'll keep going to work and you won't see a change
Save perhaps a slight gray in my eye
I will go jogging routinely
Calmly and rhythmically run
And when I find that a knife's sticking out of my side
I'll pull it out without questioning why
- i don't like my mind
again, the entire song is reid, but this is my pick:
I don't like my mind, I don't like being left alone in a room
With all its opinions about the things that I've done
So, yeah, I blast music loud, and I work myself to the bone
And on an inconvenient Christmas, I eat a cake
- first love / late spring
very cliché, but i HAD to include it! here:
And I was so young when I behaved 25
Yet now, I find I've grown into a tall child
And I don't wanna go home
Let me walk to the top of the big night sky
- there's nothing left for you
You could touch fire
You could fly
It was your right
It was your life
And then it passed
To someone new
It'll keep passin' on
Long after you
- nobody
And I don't want your pity
I just want somebody near me
Guess I'm a coward
I just want to feel alright
- because dreaming costs money, my dear
I once lived in the sea
Bring me to your ear, you can hear
The tide where I used to be
Though now I'm but a shell
- a pearl
Sorry, I don't want your touch
It's not that I don't want you
Sorry, I can't take your touch
It's just that I fell in love with a war
Nobody told me it ended
And it left a pearl in my head
And I roll it around every night
Just to watch it glow
Every night, baby, that's where I go
- real men
Real men keep cool in the face of a fire
Go down with the ship
And real men don't eat
'Cause they're above that, damn it
Oh, I'm gonna be a real man
- crack baby
It's been a long, hard 20 year summer vacation
Both these 20 years tryna fill the void
Crack baby, you don't know what you want
But you know that you had it once
And you know that you want it back
Crack baby, you don't know what you want
But you know that you're needing it
And you know that you need it bad
44 notes
·
View notes
Text
Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 21
chapter 36:
1. “It's been so long. Oh, there you are, here you are, hi,” *deep breath* AHHHHHHHHH
2. 😭😭😭 “Remus keeps a firm grip on him and turns around to promptly leave, which is probably a little rude, considering that the others are here and may wish to greet him, but he honestly can't bring himself to care about that right now” i would expect nothing less
3. WOLFSTAR REUNION!!!! I AM IN SHAMBLES!
4. “On the way, James glances back with a grin, internally wishing Sirius all the good things, because no one deserves them more.”
oh. wow. that’s such a soft line. it’s literally making me melt
5. “Remus could not be more in love if he tried.” shit shit shit shit sobbing. wolfstar deserves the world
6. “He does love Sirius, though. Loves him dearly, with every defiant bone in his body. This man, who doesn't even realize the importance of what he's just done by giving Remus an unopened envelope. Remus, who owns nothing. Remus, who has nothing. Remus, who is not granted privacy or freedom for anything like this, for anything at all.”
i am on PUBLIC TRANSPORTATION and i am BAWLING my eyes out as silently as i possibly can. y’all don’t understand the restraint i have right now to not loudly sob
7. the LETTER has me CRYING
8. THE SECRET MESSAGE
9. oh, okay. remus killed an auror/greyback. it’s honestly not as bad as i thought it would be. also, i love the lily and remus duo. they’re so iconic
10. i LOVE LOVE LOVE that zar made a point for sirius to have the discussion that his demisexuality is NOT because of trauma and he’s always been that way. it’s beautiful <3
11. “”You can ask Regulus and James; I walked around for a solid month making everyone call me Mr. Sirius Macdonald."” STOP PLSS THATS SO FUNNY
12. SIRIUS JUST TOLD REMUS HE LOVED HIM!!! this is literally so sweet
13. andjskjdksksjsms the authors note:
“sirius, internally: a guillotine could not sever the head im about to give this man. good for them 😌”
chapter 37:
1. i’m starting a gofundme to get regulus a balcony
2. "”Sirius doesn't let me drink," James replies flatly.
"Well, don't say it like that, James. You make it sound like I'm a strict parent, or a controlling spouse," Sirius grumbles. "And I do let you drink, in moderation, when you're in a safe environment and in a good mental state. Don't forget to mention that you only let me drink within those same rules."”
i bet james is upset with the rules he made for sirius so long ago. came back to bite him in the ass
3. describing sirius as “ruffled like an offended bird” has done wonders for my mental health
4. james, remus, and sirius are all hanging out and i am beyond angry that peter doesn’t get to share this moment
5. pandora is such an angel and doesn’t deserve this pain
6. pandora and reg friendship >>>>>>>>>
7. their outfits for the night!! every last one of them is slaying so hard
8. “There's a tense moment where a group of murderers all stare around at each other, not opposed to adding a few more names to their lists. Oh, and Pandora is there, too, startlingly calm despite this.”
yaxley needs to shut his fucking mouth and stop implying that sirius will fuck his way through issues
9. “"You know what they'll assume we're doing."
"Running away," Regulus mutters.
James sighs in exasperation and fond amusement. "No, Reg. Fucking. They'll assume we've snuck off to find a corner to go fuck in."”
😭😭😭😭😭 i love reg. he’s so ready to leave
10. jegulus is getting their shit together and improving. i’m so glad
11. “James swallows. "They're—they destroy things now, when they never did before. They're rough sometimes. Bloody."
"Warm," Regulus counters, pressing another kiss to James' shaking fingers. "Steady. Strong. These hands hold the people you love. These hands care for them. They're gentle. Tender."”
this is love. what they have is love. it’s messy and broken and so difficult, but they’re trying and it’s love
12. and once again we have wolfstar my true loves ☺️☺️
i feel like nows a good time to add to respect bizzarestars’ wishes to not have the fic reposted or reuploaded a different site. i can’t remember his wishes about bookbinding, but respect those as well.
thank you, lovely people
#marauders#regulus black#james potter#fanfic#jegulus#sirius black#remus lupin#wolfstar#sunseeker#starchaser#pandora rosier#pandora lovegood#crimson rivers
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
So I need to know what animal they think is the batfamilies special interest.
Like we all know they are on the spectrum like look at Bruce. He's a 30 year old man that dresses as a bat and don't get me wrong there are several reasons he dresses as one but it always has something to do with the animal itself and I always think that's funny how it's even used as a joke in several comics, and animated movies/ shows.
So Bruce knows everything about bat's, shape color, species, what food they eat and how they live and even the different culture views on bat's. He could talk all day about it if asked and he always does it with the utmost care. Like he was giving a speech at a gala or speaking to the league.
I think we all know Dicks is obviously Robin's. Cause why else would he choose to be a brightly colored vigilante that's after a bird from the north? I feel like after moving in with Bruce he took a quiz on what bird he would be cause he was studying birds in school and got a Robin and took that to heart as a passion and not only learned everything about a Robin's but that had just become his identity for awhile and he loved it. Bruce when he heard it at first had thought it wouldn't work but after making him his own costume and even watching several videos on the birds he thought it fit his son nicely.
Jason didn't break away from the Robin role and embraces it actually. But he was always way more shy when it came to discussing his favorite. I think he would have a fascination with bugs and snakes and would absolutely be the kid with a spider or a beardy. He once convinced Bruce to get him a baby beardy and then it became an obsession. He had a sweatshirt that even had a cartoonish looking beardy printed on it and he proudly talks about it to any one who asked. Bruce would silently close his eyes and soak in all the information about them he could.
I totally think Tim loves frogs and even sea creatures. He has a tank with shrimp in it and his boyfriend makes fun of him and calls him a shrimp farmer but he also has a tank that has glass frogs in it. It's a huge tank that takes up over half his room and he loves just watching them sleep and even makes cute little tiktoks with them. He always is getting cute things for the habitat and going shopping. He also takes Damian on these trips. Because they both enjoy walking around and even stopping to pet or talk to the people who bring in their dogs. Bruce also enjoys walking into Tim's room and seeing the frogs and shrimp and even says hello to them before leaving again.
Damian is no stranger to having a soft spot for animals but I know he loves cats and dogs. He is definitely a cat person. Alfred the cat is his prized possession and he will proudly take pictures and then draw them. He loves using his animals as drawing references and has multiple books filled to the brim of just them. Sometimes if they are really good he goes to Bruce and asks them to be laminated so he can hang them up in his room because they deserve to be celebrated and respected. He also tells Bruce odd facts about his animals. How Alfred (the cat) specifically likes to sleep on his left side and enjoys being scratched behind his ears the most.
Bruce loves his weird sons because he is weird and for Christmas he always gets them something related to their animals because it's like a bonding experience for them. Some days they don't even talk about anything but their animals but I can imagine them all settling on a couch and out of pure bordem putting on documentaries and spending time just listening and learning. Of course this could also lead into some heated debates about who's animals is the best.
Jason: no you don't understand
Damian: *scoffs* actually Todd you never understood anything
Dick: ok well I set the whole thing for Robin soooo
Tim: oh please you were eight!!
Bruce: I think we are forgetting how bats-
Kids: *groan because they have been hearing about bat's for over half their lives and are tired*
Alfred just walks in and smiles as he sets a pitcher down.
Alfred: actually you are forgetting how important bee's are to the environment. Which is why I plant only the best pollinator friendly flowers
Cue to everyone rioting cause after all this time Alfred has never talked about the fact he is in fact a bee guy. Ever since he started working for the Wayne's they let him have full control of the gardens and he always loved that in the bleak of Gotham he had his own personal eden with the flowers. Bruce's parents also appreciated him for this and would let Alfred do as he pleased when he would passionately talk to them about the bees. Even when they passed away Bruce had always assumed Alfred just did it because he didn't trust anyone else.
Which was part way true but he loves watching them bumble around and bump into each other as he works.
If anyone knows what Duke, steph, and Cass would like please comment or feel free to debate!! Just please remember to be nice and save the bees 🐝
#batman#they are so silly#batfam#dc comics#damain wayne#jason todd#tim x conner#tim drake#bruce wayne#alfred pennyworth#dick grayson#i live for this#i love them#headcanon#animals#debatable#go ahead and try man#your honor they are autism and adhd coded#special interest#no objecting in the court of krypton#teach me how to dougie#once again the chat is tweakin#dc incorrect quotes#dc universe#incorrect dc quotes#dcu#justice league#dinosaurs#i love dinos at least#this is what i get for being a hippie
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
Pancakes for Dinner
inspired by the song of the same name by lizzie mcalpine.
a fetchen story as told by karen's letter to gretchen.
warning: light angst, possibly unrequited love
Gretch,
Hey. I know I haven't been in contact for weeks since I came home in India, and I'm really sorry for that. I thought I needed some space after graduation to figure things out for myself for a while especially now that high school is really over.
It kinda sucks, doesn't it? I thought life would be all good after Spring Fling in junior year, but somehow everything became different. Some are good different, others are bad different. Mostly good, though. At least we all graduated, and thanks to everyone, I didn't have to fall back a year to catch up with my grades.
Gretchie, I'm in the airport right now, waiting for my flight back to the US.
Funny how I've been riding airplanes since I was small and it still makes me nervous. I mean, it shouldn't be logical for a machine that heavy to be able to fly, right? It has no feathers like a bird, and its wings doesn't even flap. It just doesn't make sense, Gretch.
I am coming home. I plan to, at least. And I will be there by your side the next thing you know.
But in the rare case that I don't make it home, I want you to know something.
The truth is, all these years being by your side has been the best years of my life.
Sure, there are ups and downs especially when Regina gets cranky and lashes out on us, or when school sucks so hard that it's stressing us out. It was always you who held my hands though it all and made things better.
I love the days when it would just be the two of us hanging out. When we go to the mall and shop for clothes, when we go salons and have our nails done, when we go to festivals and carnivals and try on all the rides that we can go to, and take photos for our scrapbook.
I especially love it even when we're chilling in your house when your parents aren't around, on the couch wearing our pajamas with popcorns and colas in the table in front of us, a cheesy movie playing in the TV. You would always snuggle next to me, hold my hand underneath the blanket, and lay your head on my shoulder. You would fall asleep on the middle of our third movie and I would always be too scared to move, not wanting to wake you up and ruin your peace so I just sit still until the credits roll.
Days when you would sleepover at mine and we would talk and talk about everything and anything until the sun rises. How we would sneak downstairs in the middle of the night and make the kitchen our own little bubble. You would always pretend that the spatulas were microphones and sing random tunes just to keep me company while I cook pancakes for dinner. I would always be in awe of your voice and how you carry yourself when you perform as if you were on a stage, spotlight set on you, and there were only the two of us in the whole world that existed in that very moment.
I know you still love her, Gretch. It shows in the way you look at her and the way you cling to her every word. It has been like that for years but you just don't realize it. You would always say that you were just doing everything because you're a great friend. It's not like that, though. It hasn't been since ninth grade.
I know I was too much of a coward to say something, even now, I'm still scared. I don't want to taint whatever we have right now and risk losing it all. I can't lose you, Gretchen.
I don't want to keep on pretending that seeing you pay attention to someone else doesn't hurt. I don't want to keep on telling you that I'm happy you're with someone else when I'm clearly not.
But you couldn't have known.
Gretch, I don't want to say something, not yet, but I hope by now you probably have an idea what I'm trying to tell you. I can't be too forward in case it all comes crashing down on me and I don't think I can handle this going south, at least not right now.
I'll see you when I see you, and hopefully I'll finally be brave by then.
Always yours,
Karen.
#karen shetty#gretchen wieners#fetchen#mean girls#mean girls 2024#karen x gretchen#song fic#kinda#idk what to tag this i just whipped this out a couple of mins ago#dribble drabble#angst#light angst#?
31 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey! I'm not looking for a particular fic and maybe somebody's already asked this, but could you point me the way to kidfics where Crowley is the birthing parent? Idk if I'm just unlucky or bad at searching but it seems like almost all the 'one of them gives birth' fics have Aziraphale as the birth parent...
Hello! We do have a #pregnant crowley tag, so take a look at that. Here are some more fics to add to the collection...
Angel Baby by ARealPip (T)
Crowley is pregnant, and a group of doctors and nurses struggle valiantly to handle the gender-fluid inhuman patient who has suddenly shown up in their offices. Aziraphale does his very best to help put them at their ease. But it all goes a bit strange.
This Miraculous Child (Of Ours) by blackeyedblonde (E)
“Well?” Crowley asks, wretchedly pulling his sunglasses from his face. “Why isn’t your angelic juju doing me one better and nipping whatever this is in the arse?”
The fact that Aziraphale has paled some himself and reached up to clutch at the front of his dressing gown doesn’t seem to bode well.
“You—you’re with child, Crowley,” he says, just like that, in the messy parlor of this once-scourged effing bookshop in Soho where Crowley thought he’d lost the one thing he ever really cared about, the car be damned, since they unraveled into existence and millennia began.
More to Love by Sodium_Azide (E)
It's a new world, and the beginning of a new era. Crowley has never been happier in his long life, but, (ain't there always a but) he has his angel, he has his freedom, he has his Bentley and the whole world to explore, but he still wants more.
Unexpectedly, he gets it.
(an ineffable family fic)
The Way We're Made by dsaun (E)
After the almost-apocalypse, Crowley and Aziraphale attempt to settle back into their old routines. What they don't know is that their meddling in the great plan has piqued the creator's curiosity and she has other ideas. A drunken evening causes ineffable consequences and turns everything upside down.
beyond the river jordan by blackeyedblonde (E)
“I think it’s time we try and do the thing,” is what Crowley says, when the words finally wing up out of him one morning.
“Do what, dear?” Aziraphale asks as he takes a scrubbing brush to the skillet they’d made eggs in. Behind them, Dove is smearing oatmeal and a bit of scramble around her highchair tray, blabbing good-naturedly in her little singsong voice while morning sunlight slants in just enough to make her strawberry hair shine like rose gold.
“You know,” Crowley grunts, drying an antique porcelain plate with a particular furor that makes it consider breaking, though it wouldn’t dare so much as chip with the angel in the room. “Uh. Try again—for a baby. But swapped ‘round a bit so I do all the cooking.”
Aziraphale calmly keeps up with his washing, though a little smile plays around his mouth and then gradually grows a bit wider. “Ah,” he says all too knowingly, which makes Crowley’s stomach lurch. “I’d been wondering when you’d feel ready to bring that up again.”
The Birds and the Bees for Ineffable Idiots by DarkAngel2891 (T)
Crowley doesn't know how reproduction works.
Aziraphale is at a loss for words. Whatever the two where expecting it wasn't this.
God ships Crowley and Aziraphale.
- Mod D
#good omens#ineffable husbands#ineffable partners#pregnant crowley#pregnancy#mpreg#female presenting crowley#kid fic#mod d
28 notes
·
View notes
Text
wondering about Frank and insects but specifically about how it looks like the WH insects are highly stylized, so does Frank even know anything about real butteflies/insects?
& if he saw a real one, would he recognize it? are all of the species names he applies to the WH bugs real, or are they all made up like "Vibrant Eyespot" or "Fluttering Heartwing"?
and then there's the question - does the neighborhood have some of the more 'undesirable' bugs like moths, worms, roaches, spiders? does it have bugs outside of the generic groups of beetles and butterflies? like are there mantids? leafbugs? dragonflies? weevils? or are those too specific/complex/not-cute for the Playfellow Workshop to have included?
and then there's the question of what are the bugs? props? puppets? are they alive or do the neighbors just perceive them as such? Do they even exist outside of art, storybooks, and animated segments? I highly doubt they're alive like the neighbors are, since in the gif of Frank's head spinning, the framed butterflies' wings are moving. which is kind of horrifying if you think about it for more than a second.
just... the critters Frank loves so so so much being a complete fabrication... every piece of knowledge he prides himself on / delights in knowing being utterly Untrue... oof
#by not-cute i mean that most bugs dont sell well as marketable plushies#cute butterflies? round adorable beetles? those fit right in with a vibrant puppet-y world#so it'd make sense if those are the only two bug groups that exist#along with like. caterpillars of course. i can also see bees being a probable candidate for Existing In The World#AGHHHHH THIS HAS BEEN EATING AT ME FOR DAYS NOW#been questioning how the neighbors' consciousness and awareness manifests as well#might make a different post on that since this one has a Topic and id like to Stay On It for once#well. its related. but that deserves its own Pondering#welcome home speculation#i dont know what else to tag this as!#absolutely unprompted#ALSO ALSO are there any animals outside of insects?#does the neighborhood have birdsong but no birds? if one listens real hard to it will they notice it looping?#do they have squirrels? critters in general? is that why wally doesnt know what a rat is? he'd have no reason to.#in his world they simply don't exist.#anyway but i wonder how frank would react to seeing a real butterfly (& insects in general)#the WH ones are gigantic in comparison and overly-colorful and friendly & cutesy#wouldnt it be painful if he was scared of them. if they look too alien. would it be the spongebob butterfly episode all over again#many many thoughts tonight....#but also....#what if he tried to frame a real one. expecting it to be Fine and Alive when he pins it bc they always have been#theyve always been perfectly happy fluttering in their frames#but a real one would fucking die. so. yikes#traumatic core memory unlocked! frank frankly has discovered Death
218 notes
·
View notes
Text
I think a lot of people like. Don't know or understand how powerful birds of prey really are.
#thoughts#i saw someone saying that a cats claws are more powerful than a red tail hawks talons#and how many people say they can take on eagles without any problem and ooo boy#imagine getting four hooks lodged all the way into your flesh with behind them a strenght that in some cases can break your bones#and be stuck in that position until the bird decides you're no longer interesting. that's what it feels to be footed by a bird of prey#larger ones that is but you know#birds of prey hurt a lot and they do not mess around#don't be fooled by the fact they are birds#a golden eagle can send you to the hospital with very significant injuries#birds
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
having thoughts about how Husk actually has very little left to redeem bc he started his journey of self-change before even coming to work at the hotel, but at the same time redemption isn't even his goal- he ain't even aiming for heaven, he just wanted to be a better person and maybe now with friends and especially Angel, who he supports so much and wants to see succeed, maybe now he has a reason to be a better person
#hazbin hotel#husk#warning I am about to ramble in these tags O7 I have a ridiculous amount of thoughts about this cat bird man#thinking about that word of god from vivzie that Husk is actively fighting his gambling addiction in hell#which besides the pilot we've only seen his gambling mentioned in the past#and idk if it's just because they had to focus on other things but we don't see him drinking as heavily as he did in the pilot#and first few episodes. like he actually wants to be sober#we know he used to be an overlord and we assume that comes with all the terrible overlord qualities#(aka there's no such thing as a good slave owner)#but the Husk we know now has been on both sides of this chain#he knows and respects boundaries. consent is super important to him. this feels like a moral you can't really have to be an overlord#he also sees everyone as more than just what they can do for him specifically. he gets NOTHING out of being Angel's friend#he gets NOTHING out of defending Angel and Cherri during the fight with the Exorcists#he knows when to open up and who to open up to and trust. and he extends a hand to someone in need. someone he ain't even close to-#and if it hasn't changed he is trying to beat his own vices despite not even being a guest of the hotel. he's staff. he doesn't HAVE to#participate in their activities or try to change. he was dragged into this#but dammit he does it anyway#(also if he is still trying to beat his gambling addiction I wonder if the pilot was a relapse. hm)#anyway ig what im trying to say is husk isn't a guest at the hotel but plays the role of a guide for the guests bc he's already#got a very strong and *GOOD* set of morals considering they're in hell#like his level of morals we've only seen /explicitly/ shown in hellborn. and yeah consent and boundaries is rock bottom even for Earth#but they're in hell so somehow the bar manages to be even fucking lower than that so I consider it a win#ALSO THE FACT THAT HE STOOD BETWEEN ANGEL & CHERRI AND THE EXORCISTS??? this mf is willing to DIE for these people#I am 100% sure that if Husk's soul didn't belong to Alastor he would already be redeemed#we don't know what he did in life and we don't know how bad he was as an overlord but we know who husk is /now/#and that person is a pretty damn good guy#he might have some work to do sure but he's already at least started his redemption before the show even began and#we're just seeing the tail end of it#god damn I really rambled in these tags i am so sorry#I just have so many thoughts about him
33 notes
·
View notes
Text
SCREMS my snautsticic child
he is trying ok!!!!!! one tiny snake human hybrid built from the cave-ground-up, , attempting to learn all the implicit rules of humanness?! as if it isn't already tough enough out here!!!!
#ALL he has to work off of is the Great Serpent's memories? fuzzy clips of ppl he might have seen or interacted with??#depending on the kind of snake he was he could have a variety of defense mechanisms#he could have had to suppress his hissing instinct. or maybe he contorted his body in that adorably vertical corn snake way when he scared#big baby eyes trying to mimic the ppl around him but they are busy being judgemental#so many stupid little human things that villagers try to explain to him as “that's just the way it is” or “never really thought about why”#and yakumo just stares in disbelief bc how could u have never thought about the concept of goosebumps#you're telling me ur skin turns into plucked-bird-skin when you're cold or frightened and that is completely mundane?#you're telling me that when ppl try to hug you it is NOT because they want to strangle u to death and eat u????#how much strength am i supposed to put into a hug then. NOT bone crushimg??????#WHAT EMOTION IS THIS GESTURE SUPPOSED TO CONVEY#yakumo#the tags tho#now imagining blade and yakumo shaking hands and discussing “why are humans such funky lil guys and why do they do the things they do”#several of the non-humans gather in a monthly meeting like:#on today's agenda: WTF is kissing. why are they smashing their food holes together.#one week they bring in a guest human (edmond?) and ask him all of humanity's big questions from non-human POV#and edmond's just like ??? i don't know???!?!??#and eberyone throws up their arms in frustration bc if humans don't make sense to the humans then what are we supposed 2do
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
@raventhekittycat
hi okay so I've been mulling this one over for the past day or two and I think I have the answer. not to be using hamburger to explain anything to an american but you're my detco mutual so I'm going to try and explain it in detco terms
There's a post going around recently about how if you've read detco and only detco, the first time hakuba shows up you're going to be totally flummoxed, because damn this guy is clearly important, he gets to be even cooler than Shinichi, he's got a half-page shot of him (in such a panel-dense series such as Detective Conan, no less!!) and he's got a fucking hawk. he's CLEARLY important. everything about the narrative is indicating that you need to PAY ATTENTION to hakuba and that he's the coolest guy and he's important!!!! and then he dies in the case lol (not for real. but still.)!! and you're like huh??? what was that. why did aoyama do that.
But with the context of magic kaito this totally makes sense. He's a beloved character that people have been waiting decades to see again. Of course Aoyama is going to hype him up!! It's his big moment after years of being locked in the backrooms!!!
Anyways reading birdmen for me was kind of like that. The author's previous series, Kekkaishi, was pretty one-dimensional at the beginning, and even after the main plot started picking up at around volume 6, it still felt quite understandable. I knew what she was trying to get at, and the spectacular job she did with the anthropocene and climate change metaphor towards the end of that series really made me interested in the rest of her works. That and the way she writes familial relationships is absolutely DEVASTATING. (I mean this with the highest of praise)
But when I read BIRDMEN for the first time, I was probably in... middle school, maybe? And I read it, sure, but I didn't get it. I could see what was literally happening on the page but the narrative choices were absolutely baffling at times. Why skip over the entire part of the plot where they figure out who the birdman that saved them was? She blatantly doesn't care about that. What does she care about then?? I knew I didn't get it, I knew there were parts of it that were important and I couldn't figure out why and THAT'S how it dug its pretty little claws into me. Even after I finished catching up it nagged at me a little bit, not often at all, but enough that every once in a while I go, huh, right, that was a thing, let me go read it again.
For the record this type of story haunting has happened to me twice. First time was the Heart of Thomas, second time was BIRDMEN. I think the thing is that these are both stories which are not what other people say they are and I think I came into both of these stories with a misconception, trying to look too hard for things that weren't important and therefore missing the things that were.
Because sure, BIRDMEN is about mental illness. Yeah, it's about an evil scientific organization growing mutants in a lab. Yeah, it's about what it means to leave your humanity behind. That's all technically correct, on a surface level, and the fandom at large likely agrees with these takes for the most part, but in my opinion none of that really delves into what the thematic messaging of the story is about.
There are cryptic conversations about authority and human extinction and peculiar outfit and ability choices. You can tell these choices weren't made to serve the purpose of "writing exciting shonen manga" because that was what she did for the most part in Kekkaishi and you can tell she wasn't putting her whole pussy into doing that here. So what was she doing? What's like. All of this. Waves my hands at this.
The short answer is that it's really about the interplay between capitalism (represented by humanity) and communism (represented by birdmen), and explores the role institutional white supremacy (EDEN) plays in enforcing capitalism. It is ALSO about queer liberation and the importance of community, but hey, that double-stacks conveniently with the communism metaphor.
But also take this opinion of mine with a grain of salt. As far as I know I'm the only one who really truly deeply believes that it is not only AN interpretation of the work, but one that was fully intended by the author.
So basically, I like it, because I think it says something true and beautiful that I also believe in, even if I didn't have the words for it the first time I read it. But I don't really think that's what people really look for in a media recommendation.
Do I like it? Yes, I love it. Will I recommend it to others? Yeah, sure. But do I think it's deeply flawed? Yeah, absolutely. It's flawed in the same ways as The Witch from Mercury— a rushed ending, too many threads that were opened and never tied together. The pacing and characterization is perfect in the beginning, and too rushed at the end. There are prerequisites you basically HAVE to read in order to understand the story (tempest for G-Witch and the communist manifesto for birdmen). I think a truly good story wouldn't have any of these things so if people don't like it I never blame them.
It's my personal experiences that make birdmen so profound to me. If you are not queer I just don't think Eishi coming out as a birdman to his mom will hit the same, just as an example. Sorry that I wasn't the kid you wanted me to be. I know you love me and you just want the best for me and that's why you're so controlling, because you think I can be saved by conforming to societal expectations. But I can't live like that. I can't be like that. And that's why I must go. etc.
Aesthetically I do love birdmen a lot. If I had to describe it in a few words it would probably be "chilling", "beautiful", and "powerful", which nicely coincides with the type of things I personally like to draw. It's also silly to a small degree but it's so serious and I know Tanabe can be way way way funnier (read kekkaishi for this. kekkaishi and hanazakari no kimitachi he were foundational to my sense of sequential art humor) so that's not really the standout trait of this series.
I can't let it go because I'm chewing this series like a bone. And it's taking me years but I am getting that sweet sweet marrow. By god. We are on year 3 of this shit and I am GOING to understand this series. and I'm going to make 3 video essays about it
#just thinking thoughts...#stray bird thoughts#so it's like... I don't like it because birdmen is good#I think I like it because I am a certain type of person and the author was trying to say something specifically to the type of person I am#OH#I'M THE TARGETED AUDIENCE THATS WHY I LIKE IT.#YEAH THATS REALLY IT!!!#A long time ago I said that birdmen wasn't written for the people who read it at the time it serialized.#it was written for the people they would become.#and I stand by that 100%#if it really stays with you there is going to be a reason even if you can't articulate it yet#and it may APPEAR sloppy to someone who doesn't see the queer or communist metaphor#like 'what is she doing what is she saying here she's not saying anything meaningful and emphasizing the wrong things'#but that sort of presumes she is gunning to make 'the best shonen manga ever'#which she clearly isn't.#I remember when I was reading fma with a bunch of my classmates and I'd lend them a volume or two every day#and a piece of feedback I received that has stuck with me was 'volume 15 was so boring'#(that was the volume recounting the ishval civil war. it was boring because we were middle schoolers and didn't REALLY get it.)#and like. I think to people who are looking for something like kks. the whole thing is going to feel like fma volume 15#like WHAT is she going on about? ? ?#like witch hat and dunmesh I think are similar types of stories but I think these two are just executed way better than bm#but because of that it is just not as compelling to me you know.#like yeah yeah it's well constructed. we all see it's well constructed.#the metaphor is so well constructed that I don't feel the need to point it out. everyone is saying it already you know#but bm is cryptic enough and just slightly missed that execution enough that I feel like I'm pulling the analysis out of a smoking wreckage#recently I've been watching mentourpilot videos about airplane accidents and like. that's exactly it.#there's nothing to say about a perfectly executed flight.#it's the ones that failed. and in particular the ones that just barely failed by a little bit. that compels people the most.#cue my de communism is failure post. bc that bm sure did fail.
10 notes
·
View notes
Text
I can't stop thinking about that Wing AU and Sticky plucking his feathers...
(Weird, angsty ramblings that might require some knowledge of bird anatomy to fully understand to follow)
(Basically, when birds grow feathers they start as "blood feathers" which are basically just little sacks of blood and growing cells. After this, they are "pin feathers", and the blood is all inside where it belongs, leaving the feather all rolled up and covered in this papery stuff that rubs off and leaves a fully grown feather. Also, Primaries are the big "pointer finger" feathers at the tip of the wings, Secondaries are the medium sized ones from the "wrist" joint to the "elbow", where they get smaller and are referred to as Tertiaries. That should be it :>)
Because, in real life, it's quite common in pet psittacines (Parrots: so, macaws, cockatoos, budgies, lovebirds, etc.) especially when they are stressed. And it can get out of control really fast and take a long time to train the bird out of even though it's very obviously hurting it.
And I just keep thinking about how young he was when he started being on TV. And for a while the fluffy little baby feathers were cute but an entertainment industry seeking engagement instead of connection demanded he grow up too fast.
And so the make-up/wardrobe department for any competition he was on started pulling some of the downy feathers. There weren't that many left at this point regardless, but they assured him it would make him seem more mature and appeal to a wider audience. And it would be fine, it wouldn't really hurt him, especially since he was growing in big feathers anyway.
So it went. With Sticky being so self-conscious and anxious anyway, he probably kept his wings tucked in tight behind him no matter what people thought about them.
He had never put that much consideration into how he looked, but now he can't stop thinking about it. He doesn't know why it's so important, but apparently it matters to people. He doesn't want it to matter. He doesn't want to be seen or recognised. He just wants to be left alone.
He starts fidgeting with the pin feathers that will one day unfurl into adult primaries, and even though he knows it's counter-intuitive because removing the casings will only free the feathers sooner, he can't help it. A few times he goes too far and starts picking at blood feathers, and even though the red coats his finger tips more often than he'd like, he still can't stop his hands from scratching and pulling and yanking as he grows more and more agitated.
And then he ran away
He ran and he couldn't keep his hands off his wings for more than a few minutes. Tugging and raking his fingers through the feathers in a futile attempt to calm down. The first couple of times, it's an accident.
The first couple of times he's so caught up in soundless panic and all he can hear is his own breathing, it's only later that he notices a small cluster of secondaries, close to his body and almost never seen with how rigidly he holds himself, are missing. Small pieces of the night sky littering the alleyway ground where he'd been hiding.
His wings are so dark in colour, not to mention unkempt after a few weeks hiding and running and flitting from place to place trying to find safety, that the other kids don't even notice anything wrong.
It isn't until a few days later, when they're all in the backyard attempting to practice their Morse Code, and Kate does something that startles him that they really see what kind of a state his wings are in.
Most birds, when scared or on edge, will carefully spread their wings. Maybe not a lot, but they are preparing to fly away or make themselves look bigger in hopes to scare off the threat. (I imagine Milligan having great big owl wings that he puffs up to try and guard the children when the Recruiters come after them in the maze)
But Sticky just draws them in closer to his body. When he is scared, which Constance would note is often, he holds his wings so tightly to his back that they seem half their size. This would be considered odd and in some ways handicapping himself or keeping him from being able to react properly.
But this time, as Kate wobbles unstably out of her cartwheel and lets out a shriek of laughter, landing on the ground right next to him, Sticky jumps. He starts off the bench he had been sitting on, hunching his shoulders and reflexively spreading his wings.
And instead of the fully extended mix of fully grown flight feathers and occasionally wayward piece of down the other kids have, Sticky's wings are a mess. They have a skeletal quality, with just enough plumage that when they are folded in it's hardly noticeable, but when they are extended it's clear there are significant gaps. The remaining feathers have the dull, stunted quality of someone who has been under an incredible amount of stress without nearly enough nutrients to fuel them, and indeed Sticky looks rather like a feral cat in that moment: Spooked and curling in on himself as if expecting a fight.
He quickly realises his overreaction, and then processes that the girls are staring at his wings (Reynie's eye did dart up, but quickly returned to looking at Sticky's face), so he jerks them back into a resting position. Though there's nothing particularly restful about how stiff his posture is, back ramrod straight and muscles so tight he's beginning to shake.
However, this is something that the others know he doesn't want to share yet. And he doesn't need to. Not until he's ready.
So, Kate grabs the flashlight from where it had fallen to the ground, a sheepish grin on her face as she apologises for scaring him.
Reynie suggests they all go inside, take a break and get something to eat before they begin again.
Constance glares at Sticky suspiciously, but right as she opens her mouth she seems to think better of her questions and simply shrugs.
And Sticky is grateful for his friends, grateful that he has these people who love him enough to trust him with his secrets, even though they don't know each other very well yet. So he follows them inside, and if Kate dumps a little bit more food on his plate, and Constance doesn't try to swipe his juice glass this time, and if that night (for the first time) Reynie shyly asks if the two of them could take turns preening each others' wings, when it's just the two of them alone in the room, Sticky thinks he might be able to trust them too.
#Anyways#I wanted to get this idea out of my head so I could actually think about other things#Because it has been crowding out a lot of other thoughts lately#That's what I get for getting all excited about bird anatomy I guess :/#I hope it isn't too annoying or weird#But it's a super real thing that lack of proper nutrition can mess up a bird's feathers too#Birds are kind of ridiculously delicate#In other ways aside from the hollow bones I mean#But at least they're not as bad as horses#All this is mostly based off my own experience with anxiety and doing stuff like pulling on my hair or pinching myself?#I don't really know anymore if that's a common anxiety thing or something I should tag as a 'trigger warning'?#I thought it was normal but if anyone has an issue with it please tell me#Anyways like I said#Lots of feelings about wing aus and birds and a TON of feelings about Sticky#Whoo I finished that now I can retreat to the safety of my phone and leave the clown behind#the mysterious benedict society#mbs#sticky washington#mbs wing au
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nano 2023 Day 17
hey wait a minute! how did you get here? (and where is that large automobile...)
“And I suppose you have special insight into his fate?” said Hermes. “Like where he is now? How to find him?”
“Bold to assume my visions would be helpful,” replied Apollo.
Hermes doubled down. “You found your way here, didn’t you?”
“Several hours late.”
“Sure, but you came.” Hermes pulled to the front, forcing his brother to a stop. “You’d never leave Hyperborea without a reason, come on. You had to have seen something big.”
Apollo stared Hermes down a moment before releasing a puff of white breath and scrubbing his hands through his curls. “I didn’t see much,” he said, eventually, leveling carefully against his brother’s gaze. “Just a crumbling Olympus, a boy with dark hair and grey eyes, and halo of storm clouds above him. I felt motion in the weave, so I let the strings pull me here.”
Hermes frowned. “You’re lying. There’s something else.”
Apollo smiled and shifted past him to continue walking. “Good luck proving that in court.”
“Pretty sure the god of liars can smell a rat,” Hermes called after him.
“And I invented lawyers!” said Apollo. “I like my chances. Now, if you don’t mind, we have bigger fish to fry.”
Hermes huffed and bit back a groan. Despite himself, he asked, “What kind of fish?”
“The kind that keeps father from clocking us as traitors the minute we get home,” replied Apollo cheerily. “Let’s hop to it.”
#my post#writing#large automobile is a chariot btw#i don't think apollo has a chariot for me#sometimes in the myth record he has a very large swan or like a regular chariot with normal horses#and the swan is kinda interesting but actually i don't like it#and ares has cool horses that have names and artemis gets a bunch of deer#and when two of your siblings have very cool chariot set ups why would i also spend more time on chariot business#i'm very bored of chariots right now#and i can turn him into a bird instead#swans are also out because i was starting to get real in the weeds about swan social behavior and boy#swans sure do like imprinting on humans and trying to mate with them#i don't like that#i wrote giant swan for all of 5 minutes#immediately thought about leda (and the swan)#i don't wanna think about leda (and the swan)#so no swan for apollo#anyway i think i might totally rework the beginning once i'm done#i wanna smooth out the prophecy delivery and who knows what when#but that's a job for later#by my estimation if i keep going at my current pace i could have 50000 words written in the next 3-5 months#so i could have a finished book by this time next year easy#exciting
4 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
