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ghosts-and-blue-sweaters · 10 months

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In regards to the seven sentence tag game:

Let's see if I can manage this without going off into the entire plot of Gears of War and a comprehensive guide to the history, science, culture, society, and economic structure of the world of Sera. Or worse, start ranting about the themes of the story. 😅

So within the world of Gears there's a superweapon called the Hammer of Dawn. It's made up of a network of satellites that can rain down firey hell in concentrated bursts. It's a constant presence within the games, books, and comics and helps showcase the gray areas of humanity in a horrific but necessary way. Basically, big scary laser weapon from space. Not to be used lightly.

One of the bigger plot devices in Gears of War 5 is that they're trying to get the HoD back online. Most of the satellites have been lost, destroyed, or knocked offline and unreachable after the near apocalypse the world of Sera endured. The first mission in the game is to find and launch a working satellite. Unfortunately, one satellite is difficult to aim and doesn't cover a large surface area of the planet. One of the next missions you play is an evacuation of a COG settlement. Obviously things go wrong, things are looking bad and my poor sweet darling JD (James) fueled by guilt, pride, and fear decides to use himself as a targeting beacon for the HoD. It works until the satellite goes haywire and Baird no longer has control over it. And then everything goes to ratshit. JD gets hit with a blast that basically cooks him. He ends up severely wounded and in a coma for a while.

Now that you've got some knowledge to go off of this piece is a little bit of introspection on the relationship between JD and his father, Marcus. I'm kind of going for a "these are the times he remembers holding his son" thing. The first being only a few hours after JD is born. The next time being on JD's sixth birthday, only a short time before his mother's death, an event that drives a huge wedge between Marcus and JD. And the last being this moment when he has to drag his dying child to CASEVAC. I'm wanting to explore Marcus's guilt in not being there for his son and how he feels powerless as his little boy lies dying at his feet. One of Marcus's biggest issues throughout the entire series is his messiah complex. He believes it's his job to shoulder pain and suffering for everyone else. For him to be unable to do that for his own son has to feel like a major failure on his part. We don't really get a whole lot of this from Marcus's point of view within the game or the accompanying book. That's all mostly explored from Kait's perspective which is important and great, but poisonous relationships between parent and child are very important to me and I like to explore them in all their multifaceted detail.

So what did JD do? He lied. He put people that depended on him in danger. And he knowingly killed innocents. Eventually, his hubris caught up with him. And now his father has to face his own as they race for the chance to save JD's dwindling life.

And oops I rambled in your ask box. 🤦 Sorry.

Me when I try to explain Ghostbur or Wilbur or Tommy or anything related to Dream SMP to someone who’s not in the fandom XD I usually end up going into a whole lotta detail lol—probably much more detail than is truly needed.

But it’s fun, so :D

Big scary laser weapon from space, gotcha!

NOOOOOOO JD *carefully covers him with a soft blanket and pats his head*

Ough… oh Deathy. One of my favorite things to read about is complicated relationships between family members. Oh gosh. Oh this fic sounds amazing oh my goodness. OH MY GOODNESS!!!!!

YEAHHHHHH FATHER-SON RELATIONSHIPS THAT ARE MESSY YES YES!!! I LOVE!!! OH MY GOSH YES!!!

You absolutely don’t have to apologize, my friend! Reading rambles is one of my favorite things to do :D And this story sounds sooooo good oh my gosh-

Now I’m curious: what do JD and Marcus act like? What are their personalities? Now that I know the backstory I’m very curious about other aspects of them :0

#thank you so much for the wonderful explanation!!#deathy tag #ask #tw language

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iviarellereads · 1 year

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Also, IIRC Sixth is on Mercury but I can't remember why I know that, and I feel like I've seen something that made me think Seventh was on Venus, and in combination with the Extra Deathy Death House being on Pluto I'm wondering if the other Houses are also on very thematic planets as well -- say, Second or Fourth on Mars (war!) etc

First, since you seem to be the same anon that sent the other ask, thank you for splitting up your topics by things that don't require spoilers to answer, and things that do.

Second, I think the ordering in GtN chapter 7 implies strongly that Seventh is on Venus and Sixth is on Mercury, (Gideon thinking of things between First/Earth and the Sun/Dominicus, the mental categorization going in order from present-location to distant-location tracks) and this fits with those planets' names mythologically speaking. Venus being the goddess of love, beauty, desire, very much makes sense with the Seventh obsession with inherent beauty.

And, the Sixth being renowned for knowledge, it fits slightly less well with Mercury (god of commerce, financial gain, travelers, and thieves) until you remember that Mercury was also the god of boundaries, such as between the living and the dead. Not exactly knowledge but... definitely some overlap with Sixth's path through the story as of the latest book, I think. (Don't get me started on explaining this unless you want a rant ALMOST as long as my "Paul is actually an EXCEPTIONALLY relevant and perfect name to choose for the Locked Tomb's deep cut ex-Catholicism vibes" one.)

It seems intensely likely that the rest of the Houses align to planets and their mythologies the same way. I've seen a few very well thought out examinations and theories in the tlt tags at different times. It's one of the things I plan to sit down with after I finish rereading through Nona and have all my notes compiled into an index of events and clues where I know exactly which keywords I used for each one to search for. That is, unless we get Alecto the Ninth before I get around to it AND it has direct confirmation for all House associations. Or if I see a post from someone else on a similarly deep level, with proof I can't counter. Either way, I win!

(Bonus thought while we're here: Varun the Eater, the RB who comes to New Rho, who is RB 7. If Seven is on Venus, then Varun is the RB of "Earth's Twin". Varun/Venus would have been, figuratively, the closest of Alecto/Earth's siblings. And they followed her soul, via Harrow and via Nona, and stayed to make sure Nona was okay when things went weird. I just find that really sweet.)

#tlt #the locked tomb #gideon the ninth #harrow the ninth #nona the ninth #nona the ninth spoilers #nona spoilers #tlt spoilers #the locked tomb spoilers

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photogirl894 · 2 years

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Random asks:

14, 26, 43

Thanks, Deathy, my love!! 💜

14. Do you send 1 long text or separate your thoughts into single texts?

For the most part, I do long texts. Though if I realize I left something out in the long text, then I'll add my additional thoughts in single texts afterwards, but for the most part, I do one single text.

26. Have you ever won a contest?

I have, actually 😊 I've won a couple dance contests at church activities, I won an art contest when I was in...I wanna say 2nd or 3rd grade that I got a medal for, I won a poetry contest once and got my poem published in a book (I don't remember what it's called anymore) and, not technically winning, but I came in 3rd at a church talent show where I sang "Never Enough" from "The Greatest Showman" 🥰

43. Is there a movie you detest for a very specific reason?

I'm probably gonna get flack for a couple of these...but "Avatar" (the blue people movie), "The Last Airbender" and "Titanic".

"Avatar" seemed like a cool movie at first, but all its got going for it is its cool special effects and visuals. Otherwise, the acting in that ain't that great and the story is incredibly boring. I'm a Lord of the Rings fan and can sit through movies over 3 hours long with no problem...Avatar is under 3 hours, but it felt soooooooo freaking long!

"The Last Airbender"...butchered the original cartoon! Names are mispronounced left and right, the characters are nothing like their animated versions, the acting is so flat and wooden, character growth is either rushed or nonexistent and the bending...the bending is terribly rendered! Slow motion, no emotion behind any of it...ugh, that movie is atrocious! There is no live action movie in Ba Sing Se!

Then "Titanic"...I do not get the hype behind this movie at all. I didn't see it until a few years ago and I had so many people telling me, "It's so good, you have to see it!" Then I did...and was majorly underwhelmed. It's also very boring and felt agonizingly long. Jack and Rose annoyed the hell out of me (seriously, "Jack!" "Rose!" "JACK!" "ROSE!" over and over again for God knows how long!) And plus, it's a story where you know how it ends. The ship sinks. That takes away a lot of suspense. And don't get me started on the whole room on the door/wood thing. Jack could've easily fit on that! That whole thing was dumb. That and the whole romance seemed very rushed to me. I had so many people tell me to see that movie and that I was missing out and was quite disappointed. Like I mentioned earlier, I love Lord of the Rings and can easily sit through long movies, but Titanic is a 3 hour movie I never want to sit through again.

Okay, rant over. I apparently need to go lie down now...😅😁

Random Ask Game

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starsofjewels · 1 month

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More than Stars

Supreme Leader Snoke x Reader

CONTENT: It's technically kidnapping, character death (non-descriptive), Snoke being a silly creepy old man

It’s May 4th, I don’t make the rules. I don’t mind the first sequel and the non-deathy Snokey bits of the second one tbh- And also I’d smash Supreme Leader man. So here we are. This might not be canon-compliant for Snoke (because they massacred my precious boy). One day I'll make a rant post about my Snoke HCs because Disney pissed me off with that Snoke = Palpatine bullshit, so here we are.

(TLDR: I realised it was May 4th and wrote this in a panic so I’d have content this month, so lol. Also Snoke = smash)

Morning is calm and cold, a reflection of the end of winter and the beginning of the summer months. Usually, you would be attending to the crops, or checking on the small collection of animals your father keeps. But it is a pleasant morning, and the rest of the family still remain in the house, clearing away the breakfast things; whether or not you work is completely unknown to them.

A stroll will do you good, you tell yourself. The days are often dark and grey at this time, and although there is a chill in the air, the bright blue sky is too tempting for you to resist. You turn away from the well-tended farmlands, brown and yellow from their labours, and find yourself a comfortable position, looking down on the wild fields that surround your home. There is little life out so early, but the view of the grass and flowers is more than enough to make up for it.

Wind disturbs the grass, its whistle unusually loud and uncomfortably artificial. From the hills you watch as metal shuttles descend from the skies, the thunderous noise growing louder still as they lay themselves upon your ground, cutting down larger plants and causing whirlwinds of grass and flowers. Though you do not understand their presence here, you know it cannot be a particularly good sign.

You hide in patches of long grass, where you are certain that, lying near-flat, these silver creatures have no hope of spotting you. It is cold, and wet, but something tells you this is better than being seen by these monsters from the skies. They open at the back, and from your distance you can see nothing but their gaping, black mouths.

The first invaders you see appear as nothing more than large, white blobs. Some carry boxes, others hold flags with symbols you are too far away to see clearly; you can recognise a red banner with something in black, but nothing more. There must be thousands of these blobs, an army of them. Their commanders, from what you can see, wear black instead. One officer, you quickly realise, has the most power over any of these other beings, dressed entirely in silver, which reflects horribly against the bright light of the sky above them. They say something followed by the cheers of their white blob-esque followers, who turn towards your capital city and begin their march. You freeze for another moment, until the last of the white soldiers is out of sight, beyond the hills, and run back into the house.

You scream before you have gotten to the back doors, and your mother runs out to find you, certain you’ve injured yourself yet again. She doesn’t quite believe your tale, not until you mention your ‘metal shuttles’. Sitting you by the back windows, she rushes off to find your father.

Once your father appears, still in his pyjamas, he retreats to the other side of the room.

“And they came from the skies? Are you certain? Tell me you’re certain, this is serious.” Your father’s hands dig into your shoulders, “This cannot be one of your silly stories again, promise me you’re telling the truth.”

You look up at him, his gaze too strong to meet,

“I promise, Father, how many times? They came from the sky, they had red flags and a silver general.”

He nods and lets you go, turning to your mother and whispering something to her. He almost runs to his study, slamming the door behind him with such ferocity that the windows shake.

Your father emerges less than a minute later, breathing quite heavily, beckoning your mother to him. The two share a moment in the study, and when they emerge your mother takes you by the hand and drags you along with her.

She leads you out of the back doors. There is a tension you can feel but not quite understand as she takes you into her arms.

“Hide in the long grass, and do not go near the city.”

“Mother, what’s-”

Your mother shushes you, letting you go and inching you further towards the wooden steps leading into the meadows. She’s keeping something from you.

“I would explain if I could, my love, I am doing as Father says. You are my only daughter, and I will not lose you to war. Run, as fast and far as you can go. Go to the caves, to the water, there is nothing of use to anyone in those caves.”

“Mother-”

“Go. Listen to your mother.”

You only get so far before you hear the destruction begin. Gunfire echoes through the empty fields, and can be heard even from as far as your home. In still horror you watch as the clocktower, visible from all around, crumbles to the earth in a flash of thick smoke and fire, and you realise; they are burning the city.

But despite your mother’s words, something keeps you near the house. You turn back and run into one of the sheds, the slats in its walls allowing you to see the back door of your home. You will not leave them, no matter what your mother says. If your apparent invaders wanted the little planet you called a home, you are near certain the city would be enough for them to take it. So, you do not go to the water, you stay hidden amongst farming tools and barrels of hay, hoping you remain undiscovered.

You watch a group of white blobs approach your home, and you can see them closely enough to make out their true form. Thick, white armour littered with black. Identical faces given features by black metal, all bearing guns heavier and larger than anything you have ever seen. One of their commanders accompanies them, a woman in black uniform, who stands back and yells in a language you can only slightly understand without paying much attention. You recognise it as Galactic Basic, even if the words are difficult to hear.

The sky is still bright, perhaps brighter. The hay you sit on pricks at your skin, irritating you to the point where you would consider giving away your position to be rid of it. The tools creak in the wind, and you sit in silence as the white soldiers break through the doors into your home and move in on it with identical steps.

The screaming is something you can never forget. Your mother cries, your father bears his fists, though they do little against men made of metal. The commander has them forced against a wall, and you look away the moment you hear gunfire. No tears emerge, as much as you feel they should. You sit in stunned silence, until you realise how much danger you have put yourself in. Mother was right, your only choice is to run.

As a child there was something oddly freeing about running to the coast, and jumping into the perfect water whilst your exasperated mother chugged along behind you, begging you to slow down before you hurt yourself.

But you do not care if you hurt yourself, perhaps part of you wishes you would, at least then you’d cry. You don’t care if the soldiers find you either, a quick death is preferable to starving as they continue to burn the fields and slaughter the animals.

At any other time you would stop yourself before you jumped off of the edge of the meadows and fell into the water. Today, you throw yourself off without thinking, only realising as hard rock collides with your hands and you fall, bleeding, into the water. You allow yourself to cry, the water stings both your hands and your eyes. Your dress is wet and heavy, yet you still clamber from the waves and collapse into the sand, gasping as grit and dirt finds its way into your injuries.

You are there for no more than a moment before you hear footsteps around you, and although you pray it is someone you will recognise, you know it is someone who intends to do you harm.

It is a man, a rather tall man with deep, red hair, in a familiar black uniform. He pulls you up from the sand and puts a pistol to your throat, looking you up and down with a disgust akin to nothing you’d seen before.

“One of those primitive village girls,” He spits at someone hidden by the cave, “I shall have her executed, Supreme Leader.”

“Bring her to me, General.” You are dragged by the arms across the sand to the mouth of the cave, and thrown to the general’s superior. You expect to be manhandled a second time; instead, gloved hands find your waist and hoist you up, more like a doll than a person.

The Supreme Leader, or at least, who you gather to be the Supreme Leader, is seated upon a throne carved out of gold. Gold, you realise, appears to be something this Supreme Leader is particularly fond of; he wears robes formed from gold thread and fabric, though it does not look particularly comfortable, and his personal guards hold weapons tipped with it. He is an impossibly tall, frail being, who looks like something out of a tale made to scare wayward children. His face is deformed by long, deep scars across his face and neck, twisting his face horribly. But, he looks at you with curiosity; a gentle curiosity, which soothes the fear that you will be immediately executed in front of him.

He motions for you to be brought closer to him, and you are lifted again and dumped unceremoniously at the foot of his throne. Instinctively, you pick yourself up and kneel by him, which he seems to appreciate. His thumb finds the bottom of your chin, and he tilts your face up to look at him.

“Did General Hux injure you?”

You shake your head no, even though you feel the bruising on your arms. He turns to the general behind you and simply stares. He sputters a little.

“My- apologies. Little… village girl.” He is as terrified of this man as you are.

General Hux steps back from the two of you, almost as though he wants to hide in the cavern’s walls.

Snoke keeps you at his feet, like a little pet.

“I am sorry your people have been subject to this. There are secrets hidden in this place you could not hope to understand. I shall tell you one day, dear one.”

The nickname startles you, a rush of hope that, should he look upon you favourably, your fate will not match that of your people’s. He helps you stand, looking down at the seawater you have covered his throne in,

“We will find you dry clothes. Turquoise would suit you, have you ever owned turquoise?”

“Turquoise?”

He chuckles,

“Such a simple one. You will learn, I promise you.”

The Supreme Leader rises to his feet and takes your arm, as though you are his queen. He leads you to a much larger, much grander shuttle, and you are disappointed when it is not as gold as his outfits. You are stripped of your clothes and put into a room which fills with steam, subsequently dressed in what you assume to be a turquoise gown.

You sit beside the Supreme Leader and although he has a much more comfortable chair than you do, this luxury is more than you have ever witnessed. Wines of any and every colour you could imagine, and more food than you think you have ever seen. He laughs again at your expression,

“Take some wine.” You sip dutifully from the cup in front of you. His face twists into something of a smile, “you look very pretty, dear.”

You squeak as his ship begins to move, and as the water becomes nothing more than black sky dotted with stars in less than an instant. He takes your hand when you jump up.

“Hush, hush. It is only space travel, you will grow used to it in time.”

The two of you sit quietly. Him in quiet investigation, and you in nothing less than terror. Eventually, he stands, pacing the large, bay windows.

“I suspect you would like an explanation, hm?” He does not wait for you to speak, “yes, of course you do.”

You stare down at your hands, now fully healed, and turn slowly to look back up when he does not begin speaking. When you lock eyes with him, he does.

“There are forces in this galaxy you cannot expect to understand, and I will not ask you to understand them. Some are born with abilities simpler minds cannot hope to fathom. True power.”

Your chair shuffles on its own and slowly, carefully, glides across the room to meet him. You grasp it and scream as it does. It stops at him, and he bends down to your height.

“I am older than your planet, little one, but I watched its birth and death in dreams. And its destruction has a purpose, I promise you. All of those deaths will not be in vain.”

Your wine floats towards you and forces itself against your lips. You take some of it, and it falls dutifully to the ground.

“You are safer here than you ever were on your planet. I will keep you safe, forever. And you will never know hunger, or cold, or fear again. Look at me.”

You lean up, those bright blue eyes peering into yours.

“I shall have anything and everything you desire brought to you in an instant. Jewels, dresses-” His arms slide down your back, and he cradles you as though you would break in an instant.

“When you are ready you will have a crown- I would say that First Lady has a nicer ring than Supreme Leader Snoke, don’t you?”

You realise this is the only time he has mentioned his name. Snoke. A rather odd name, you think.

“Yes- a real woman of power. And when you are my first lady, you will give me my son. That is all I ask.”

Once again, you are given no time to respond.

“But you will adore motherhood, I have seen it so. You will beg for another babe in time, one will never be enough for you.”

He kneels, hands grasping at your arms for stability.

“And I will give you it. I could never deny you. I will burn the stars if it means seeing a smile upon your face, and I will wipe any and every lifeform from this galaxy to please you. Make no mistake, my powers expand far further than you could imagine.”

He raises himself now, pressing a kiss to your forehead,

“Lesser men look to the stars for beauty, but you are worth far more than stars.”

With that he leaves you to be cared for by the servants, to relish in your apparent status and almost forget the extinction of your people at his hands.

One day you will love him. One day you will delight in his affections and giggle when he promises you planets and star systems as gifts for the most menial of tasks; today, however, such a thought is beyond your capacity.

#may 4th #may the fourth be with you #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x y/n #supreme leader snoke #snoke #supreme leader snoke x reader #snoke x reader #x reader #im so sorry #star wars day #star wars fanfiction #Just let me smash the tall man we'll be fine

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andersunmenschlich · 9 months

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Unlawful Entry

My apartment building is meant to be reasonably secure. Staff, tenants, and the US postal service have keys to the building: no one else.

Someone circumvented my building's security.

They broke in without breaking anything but the law—probably slipped in after someone with a key.

They were fervent. Fixated. They had a goal; they were on a mission. Laws meant nothing to them in the pursuit of this goal. Criminal trespass was necessary. They had to deliver a message. .

"DO YOU KNOW FROM READING OUR HOLY TEXTS THAT THERE IS A PLACE WAITING FOR YOU IN A BEAUTIFUL LAND THAT YOU CANNOT ENTER UNTIL YOU'RE DEAD?" one piece of bold text screamed.

"Our holy writings are the words of a supernatural being. They teach many incredibly important things, but the most important thing they teach is how a member of Homo sapiens can become immortal* (*live forever with the previously mentioned supernatural being)," the next bit of text said, in a smaller and less excited font.

A snippet from one of their holy books followed, in red.

"I wrote this stuff to you people (the people who already believe this stuff) so that you'll know it's true and… well… believe it. Which you already do. Anyway, you're immortal."

Unembarrassed by this, the smaller and less excited font continued, "According to our holy texts, there are some things that we humans have to do in order to know for sure that we'll be going to a beautiful land that only dead people can enter after we die (at which point we'll live forever)."

Don't be misled by the suggestion of things to be done to achieve knowledge.

Don't, as I did, begin thinking about how one could actually know that people go on living after they're dead (but in an unreachable location).

Remember that this is "according to our holy texts."

The next bit of writing screams loudly and excitedly again, an all caps instruction that the person who left it thought was worth committing a class C felony for: "ADMIT YOU ARE A CRIMINAL WHO HAS OFFENDED AGAINST A SUPERNATURAL ENTITY."

Yes, that's right: step one in getting the knowledge of your ticket to a beautiful place you can only live in after you die is… accepting as valid the idea that you have done something to upset, harm, or offend a being that, to all appearances, does not exist. Seems an odd way of getting knowledge!

After some consideration, I realized the problem.

They say that admitting you're a criminal is step one in knowing that you're going to live forever after you die, but what they mean is that obviously you already know that living forever after you die is a possibility, and so they're skipping that part—what they mean is that admitting you're a criminal is step one in making sure that you get your ticket to Wonderland.

"Everyone has failed to follow this one supernatural entity's rules," another red-text snippet said in calmer font, "and isn't good enough."

"According to our sacred writings," the unhinged rant continued, "we have to admit that we have offended against the supernatural entity whose words those writings are, and so we don't deserve to go to a beautiful place and live forever after we die."

"ACCEPT THAT YOU DESERVE TO BE TORTURED FOREVER," the next all caps bit bellowed.

"If you work, you get money. If you break this one supernatural being's law, you get death. Death is your wage: you deserve it. But the entity will freely give you the undeserved gift of immortality, via Joshua the Chosen One, our master."

"Death and eternal torture were thrown into the lake of fire. This is the second death, with even death dying 'cause it's so bad and deathy."

"Our sacred texts tell us that, because we broke this supernatural entity's law, not only do we not deserve to live in a beautiful place forever after we die, we deserve to die in a horrible place forever after we die! Eternal punishment! Unending, torturous death!"

…

I don't really have a lot to add here. We've gone right past unsubstantiated claims about immortality to insults and threats.

Of course the felon who left this piece of paper inside a locked dwelling thinks they're just stating a hard truth by telling me (and everyone else who reads the paper) that we're so horribly criminal we deserve to be tortured forever… but still.

"CONFESS THAT THE CHOSEN ONE DIED A HORRIBLE DEATH TO PAY FOR YOUR CRIMINAL BEHAVIOR AND THEN CAME BACK TO LIFE THREE DAYS LATER."

It seems to me that if one temporary death is enough to make up for whatever supernatural laws everyone everywhere has supposedly broken, billions of eternal punishments are a bit much. I mean, if I and a group of friends break someone's fancy windows and it turns out $20 is enough to cover everything, why should each of us have to pay $200,000,000,000?

And if it's some worse offense—say we each chopped off one of his fingers or something—how could someone else being punished possibly make up for what we did?

What are we supposed to learn from that? "Do whatever you want and don't worry about it because there won't be any unpleasant consequences for you" seems the only possible conclusion to me. You don't even have to worry about the whipping boy; he's fine!

"This is how the supernatural entity shows us how much he loves us: the Chosen One died in our place even though we were still filthy criminals who didn't deserve it."

This snippet of red text seems to imply that once somebody pays for the broken window, you're not a window-breaker anymore.

Handy, that.

It also suggests that love is shown by killing somebody else, instead of the person you ought to kill. "You broke my rules, so you deserve death. I love you, though, so I'll kill this guy over here instead, and that'll make up for your rule-breaking."

Interesting definition of love.

"Our sacred texts say that Joshua came to earth"—from outer space? from another dimension? from the darkness of nonexistence the way we all do?—"and consented to be tortured to death to pay for our supernatural offenses! Then he stopped being dead and became alive again, to prove that his horrible death really was a satisfactory alternative to our eternal torments."

This is rather like being told that, because I've broken a rich man's window, I owe him two hundred billion dollars—but some other guy handed the rich man $20 and then took the $20 back, so the price is paid.

And, in fact, the guy taking the twenty back is what proves that he had the right to pay my fine in the first place.

"COMMIT YOURSELF TO FOLLOWING THE MASTER JOSHUA AND YOU WILL BE SAVED FROM THE TERRIFYING FATE YOU DESERVE," shrieks the final all caps sentence.

"If you admit out loud that Joshua is your master, and genuinely believe that a supernatural entity brought him back to life after he died, you won't be tortured for ever and ever after you die."

"Our sacred texts say that in order to be saved from the unimaginably horrific fate worse than death we deserve, we have to sit down and deliberately choose to let the Chosen One pay for us," the threatening gibberish continues.

"If you would like to accept the Chosen One's offer now," a bold, but small text paragraph informs the reader, "then do your best to convey this following message (or something like it) to an entity that does not appear to be present anywhere in reality—and make sure you really mean it!"

The message is given in italics, which is pretty much the only way of making an individual piece of text stand out from the rest at this point on the heavily marked paper.

"Cherished Joshua, I admit that I have done something/s that broke your rules. I understand that I deserve to be tortured forever and ever, but I also know that you died a painful death to make up for my crime/s (and then undied). Please make it so that your temporary death is accepted in lieu of my eternal torture, so that I can live forever in a wonderful place after I die. I absolutely believe that you are going to do this for me. Truth!" .

…I know, I've put too much thought into this.

A piece of paper delivered by a literal criminal to the inside of my locked residence without my knowledge or consent, covered in incoherent claims, threats, and promises—in a better world, I'd throw the thing out and call the cops to check the security cameras.

Unfortunately, I don't live in a better world. I live in a world where ranting cultists like this one are considered normal people.

Actually they get more of a pass than normal folks.

Criminal trespass is a crime for everyone else. Entering a locked building without permission would get most people jail time; but when you're the right kind of cultist, you're above the law.

Scary, isn't it?

#ex christian #criminal trespassing #in order to propagate cult nonsense #''there's a wonderful place waiting for you to live in it forever after you die #''and here's how you get there:#''admit that you're a disgusting criminal who deserves to be tortured for ever and ever #''admit that a special person got horribly hurt so you could be saved from the fate you deserve #''beg that special person to save you and believe that they'll do it #''profit! (for the folks at the top.)''#long post #very long post #this is sort of my specialty isn't it #Isaiah loves writing long posts #Christian beliefs described bluntly #stripping bare the ideas and concepts they like to try and hide behind specialized vocabulary

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joisbishmyoga · 2 years

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Ok, zo. ONCE AGAIN 'the series that really needed to be confiscated from the original author years ago' has me posting.

I don't think I've mentioned it here, mostly bc I know I intended to write a ficlet but nope that didn't happen I am DONE with HP ficlets I really am. ANYWAY.

James was great at Transfiguration. Lily at Charms. Both were hardened veterans of seven years of magical prank wars, whether committing or defending from as a bystander. You're stuck in a house for months with a baby you need to protect at all costs, and you have.... exactly ONE layer of defense. Suuuuuuuure you do. I'd be making failsafes out the wazoo just from sheer bored stress pretty damn quickly.

Behold: two parent-shaped golems, pre-programmed with "Lily run" and "not Harry". At least one secret magical door + collapsing escape tunnels in every room. Brooms in the escape tunnels. Heavily shielded bunkers deep underground miles away, holding illegal Portkeys. And one bomb shaped like a baby.

Potters want big boom.

But wait! There's more! (For one thing, their Fidelius address, the one that Peter's going to tell Moldybrains, is sure af NOT in the middle of a village for Voldie and the Deathies to take out their tempers on.) Booby-trap the foyer to shoot up spikes when stepped on (if you've hit the panic button, obviously). (It might not kill him but it would certainly slow him down and hurt like a bitch. And do worse if you cover the spikes with potions!) Douse him in Draught of Living Death. Wear bracelets charmed to register as Number Whatever Fidelius Lane, Fuck-Fascists Hollow, ta-dah you're always in it. (Ok that one is a stretch, but seriously.) Get tf out of the country, choosing the destination via dartboard world map, because if Voldie has to leave England to come get you there's a chance it'll get noticed. Nested Fideliuses. Fidelii? Our location is known to our Keeper whose location is known to his Keeper whose location is known to her Keeper etc etc etc, which at least will give everybody down the chain some goddamn warning before they get to you. (And you don't pick a known close friend for your Keeper, no matter how much you trust them; anybody can break. Heck, Lily has to know other Muggleborns, they and their families would be targets but they won't be DEs, or pick the Longbottoms. Either way, do a reciprocal Fidelius.) Borrow a house-elf from Hogwarts (which is a whole 'nother rant that a lot of other people have done far better than I could); not to die for them, but to throw Volds all over the place and whatever else house-elf magic can do until they have to escape. And Dumbledore does NOT get the Invisibility Cloak, come on now, that is your last resort, something that can hide one adult and child while they flee.

#HP why #shows what you know scoffing at cleverness #no holds barred #hp meta

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awed-frog · 4 years

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“The big flaw with this is that it completely misunderstands who JK Rowling is and why she wrote the books. Simply put, this novel is a Christian tale. You miss that, you miss the entire point of everything it has to say.” Elaborate? Sounds interesting and I haven’t heard that before.

Well - I love this to bits and sort of wrote my thesis about it, so here we go.

Basically, you’ve got several kinds of heroes, but ‘left-wing hero’ is almost a contradiction in terms (more on this later). There’s your average Greek hero, whose status as a hero is more of a social class than it is a job and who generally doesn’t have any morally redeeming qualities (have you met Theseus?). Then there’s the medieval Christian hero - he comes in different flavours, but what’s relevant here is the Perceval model: basically the village idiot, whose only power is his good heart and who has no desire to challenge the status quo (because kings are divinely ordained and also poets tend to work for them, so ‘That vassal guy of yours has rescued yet another damsel’ story is going to be better received than ‘Your tax system is corrupt and this knight will now implement direct democracy’). Next you have the modern superhero, who was born in a very different historical context (the vigilantism of 19th century US) and as such has very different priorities. Namely: in his world, there is no higher authority and it’s up to him to use his superior skills to be judge and executioner so he can protect the most vulnerable. This understandable but toxic narrative will later get mixed up with WW2 and then the rampant capitalism of the last 30 years, resulting in the current blockbustery mess.

Anyway - if you’re a Western writer, it’s basically impossible to escape these three shaping forces we’ve all grown up with (classical Antiquity, Christianity, and US-led imperialism/capitalism), so most books and movies of the last forever decades can be analyzed through this lens. In the case of JK Rowling, what you have is a Christian author who openly used her YA series to chart out her own relationship with God. This is not a secret, or a meta writer’s delusion, or anything: she’s discussed it in several interviews. Her main problem, which is most believers’ main problem, is how to reconcile her faith in a benevolent God with the suffering in her daily life; and something she’s mentioned more than once is how her mom died when she was 25, and how this was very much on her mind especially when she was writing Deathly Hallows.

Now, I don’t want to write a novel here, so I won’t analyze the entire series, but what it is is basically a social critique of British society, mixed up with Greek and Roman elements in a cosmetic way only, and - crucially - led by an extremely Christian hero.

In every way that matters, Harry Potter is a direct descendant of Perceval: he’s someone who’s grown up in isolation as the village idiot (remember how he was shunned by other children because he was ‘dangerous’ and ‘different’), randomly found a more exciting world of which he previously knew nothing (he’s basically the only kid who gets to Hogwarts without knowing anything about the magical world, just like Perceval joined Arthur’s court after living in the woods for 15 years), and proceeded to make his mark not because of his innate powers or special abilities (he’s average at magic, except for Defence against the Dark Arts), but because he’s kind and good and humble. And in the end, he willingly sacrifices himself so everyone else can be saved: a Christ-like figure who even gets his very own Deposition (in the arms of Hagrid, the closest thing to a parent his actually has).

(This, by the way, was the only reason why Hagrid was kept alive. JK Rowling had planned to kill him, but she absolutely wanted this scene - one of the most recognizable and beloved image in Christian art - in the books.)

And even if he ultimately survives his ‘death’ (like Jesus did), Harry refuses the riches and rank he was surely offered and chooses to spend his days in middle-class obscurity as a husband and father (if I remember correctly, Harry and Ginny’s house isn’t even big enough for their three kids). And no, of course he doesn’t stand for anything or challenges the status quo: that’s not his job. His job, like Jesus’, was to defeat evil by offering himself up in sacrifice; and the entire story - especially the last book - is a profound, intimate, and very moving reflection on faith.

(“Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's”, remember? It’s not your job to change anything in the temporal, material world; your job is to nurture your immortal soul and prepare it for the true life that comes after death.)

Like - I don’t know how it was for younger readers, but for me, reading Deathy Hallows as an adult, it wrecked me. Even as an agnostic, I read it over and over again, and I kep finding new meaning in it. The whole thing is basically a retelling of the Book of Job, one of the most puzzling and beautiful parts of the Old Testament. That’s when Harry’s faith in God Dumbledore is tested, when his mentor, the cornerstone of his world, disappears; when Harry has to decide whether he’ll continue to believe in this absent, flawed figure despite all the bad things he keeps uncovering or give up his faith - and thus his soul - completely. The clearest, most startling moment exemplifying this religious dilemma is when Harry decides not to go after the wand. Getting it is the logical thing to do, the only way he can win, but Harry - while mourning Dobby - decides not to do it. That’s when he recovers his faith, and starts trusting his own kindness and piety (whatever happens, he will not defile a tomb) over everything else.

Another key moment is King’s Cross - here, and once more, Harry forgives his enemy, thus obeying Jesus’ commands. He sees Voldemort, the being who took everything from him - and he pities the pathetic, unloved thing he’s become. This is what sets him apart from everyone else and what makes him special: not his birth, not his magic, not some extraordinary artefact - but simply, like Dumbledore puts it, that he can love. After everything that’s bene done to him, he can still love; not only his friends, but his enemies. He forgives Voldemort, he forgives Snape, he forgives Malfoy, he forgives Dudley; and I see so many people angry about this, ranting about abuse victims and how hate is a right, but I think they’re missing the point. This is a Christian story; from a Christian perspective, your enemies need love more than your friends do.

(“It is not those who are healthy who need a physician” and all that.)

And in any case, a hero is inherently not left-wing. The whole trope relies on three rock-solid facts: the hero is special, and he can do something you can’t, and that gives him the right or the duty to save others who can’t save themselves. Whether it is declined in its Christian form (the hero as self-sacrificing nobody) or in its fascist form (the hero as judge and king of the inferior masses), that is is the exact opposite of any kind of left-wing narrative, where meaningful change is brought about not by individual martyrdom or a benevolent super-human, but by collective action.

So, yeah - Harry changes nothing and is not the leader of the revolution, but it’s unfair to link this to JK Rowling’s politics. It’s just how the trope works. And, in fairness to her, many kind and compassionate authors who write books concerned with social justice tend to lean towards this kind of hero because the only workable alternative - the fascist super-hero - is way worse. Had Harry been that, for instance, he would have ended up ruling the wizarding world. Would that have been better for its democracy? A 19-year-old PM who knows nothing about the law or justice or diplomacy? A venerated war hero drunk on power? Instead, JK Rowling chooses the milder way out: Harry and his friends do change the system - little by little, and within the limits of the genre. Hermione becomes the equivalent of a human rights lawyer, while Harry and Ron join the Aurors (and I know there’s a lot of justified suspicion towards law enforcement, but frankly having good people in their ranks is still the only way to move things forward. It’s been years and I still haven’t heard a practical suggestion as to how a police-less nation would work). As for the government, it is restored to a fairer status quo - again, not the revolution many readers wanted, but also not the totalitarian monarchies or oligarchies or the super-hero’s world.

And as to how one can write a story that’s actually revolutionary - I don’t exactly know. Some writers rely on multiple narrating voices to try and escape the heroic trope; others work on bleak stories which point out the flaws in the system and stop short of solving them. I guess that, in the end, is one of the problem with left-wing politics: they’re simply less eye-catching, less cinematic. On the whole, it’s dull, boring work, the victories achieved by committees and celebrated with a piece of paper. From a literary point of view, it just doesn’t work.

#ask #harry potter #hp #meta #jk rowling #tropes #heroes #literary tropes #ancient greece #superheroes #the jesus fandom #writers problems #right vs left #politics #again i don't hold it against it #i think it works beautifully #and has a lot to offer to non-believers as well

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deathistheonlywayoutforme-blog · 7 years

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Can I please.....

Life be damned. I don’t want to be a part of this life anymore. everyone here just makes me feel like death would be a good option. That if I die, I will not have to deal with their bullshit. I can be free from all the bullshit.

The sad thing is, if i did die. No one would actually care. They most likely would be happy about it. They would have to make sure i felt accept. They wouldn’t have to worry about me at all. They could live their lives without me dragging them down.

No one actually knows about this account and I’m happy about that. I get to say what i want, without worrying about want people think. I can rant about my life and no one would see it.

So can I please just die...

#Suicide #deathy #trigger warning #suicidial #killme #someone #rant

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crybabyjustice · 4 years

Note

fandom asks: all prime numbers.

[googles prime number chart bc I can’t fkn remember them]

2. what fandoms were apart of that you aren’t any longer?

I never really “leave” fandoms, I typically jump from hyperfixation to hyperfixation before inevitably landing back on my SpIn. There’s no fandom I can honestly say I never see myself consuming content for again.

3. characters you would marry in an instant?

Not AA, but Prompto Argentum. I love the bare bones of the man.

5. what is your favorite overused trope?

I’m a sucker for AUs (have you noticed?)

7. name a character you wouldn’t mind naming someone after.

I’ve decided I don’t want children (also I have a literal pregnancy phobia and were it not for the misogynistic laws of this land, I’d have all organs that make conception possible ripped from my body), but when I was 15 I made a point of telling my family that if I ever had a daughter, her name would be Trucy.

11. do you mind sex scenes or do you skip over them?

I don’t skip them, I’m not bothered.

13. do you mind sequels that are completely different with a new plot and new characters or do you prefer they stay with the same story and characters?

I mean, my favourite game in the AA franchise is AJ, I think that speaks for itself

17. are there any tropes you wished were used less often?

Shoehorned romance, particularly of the heterosexual variety. Before anyone misconstrues this, I don’t dislike straight romance, Ore Monogatari is still the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my life, the endgame pair in Fruits Basket (not name dropping bc I know someone who’s still reading and spoilers) still makes my little heart soar and Noctis and Lunafreya are still so beautiful together, but just try to tell me Ichigo makes more sense with Orhime when we all know he should have married Rukia (bit of a rant, sorry).

19. if you could be a part of any story, which story would you want to tag along in?

This is such a good question and it’s bugging me bc there are so many! I think I’m gonna have to say the FFXV chocobro roadtrip. Yes, I do realise that this is the thrid time I’ve mentioned FFXV in this answer, but I adore that game, man. Also, surprisingly, I feel like FFXV might be a tad less deathy than AA, my chance of survival is probably a lot higher.

#ask meme #kittensmctavish

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dance-till-the-death · 1 year

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can someone please explain what is the beef does hyv has with middle east ? 💀

wtf are those motherfuckers 😭

#Deathy Rant #genshin impact #hoyoverse #honkai impact #honkai impact susannah #susannah stigma #hoyo please #ISTG THIS COMPANY WILL NEVER LEARN #they need to hire someone at this point #hoyoverse rant

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spectercat0901 · 5 years

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I just wish my dad can be happy with me as his daughter. (Rant).

I love how my dad is happy to be my dad until any part of my mental issues show then it turns into I don't want anything to do with her. I'm sorry I'm not a convenient child that he always wanted. Trust me I hate myself too.

Time after Time my mom tries to tell him about my mental illness, and he just blames the medicine which keeping me stable, or comes up with an off the wall conspiracy theory. When I have a bad episode he will tell at me, or say that my husband will leave me, because I'm crazy (I know my husband won't, but the words hurt).

The worst part is, I've had the schizophrenia since I was really little, and once they figured out I was sick like my grandma he turned his back on me. He had little to do with my life, and at one point where I was about to hurt myself he just said "Do it already!".

He looks at me like his mom. His mom never got help, and hurt my dad and his siblings badly. I have help, and I don't think I should be punished for someone else's actions. I actively keep myself in check, and I'm still a problem.

He only wants to be a dad when I'm happy, or when it comes to my hobbies (he just rants how I'm talented, and should work). Other times he's just getting drunk, and just being a hateful person.

I am afraid of men, because of him. He has issues that he won't get help for. He's attacked my oldest brother with a screwdriver in front of me when I was a toddler. I am deathy afraid of men yelling or being loud. I was terrified of my male teachers as a kid.

But hey, I'm the problem! He can do no wrong, and he does everything for the family (highly untrue. I do everything really).

#rant #schizoaffective #schizophrenia #seriously schizophrenic #actually schizophrenic #paranoid schizophrenic #schizophrenic disorder #bipolar #bpd #ptsd #ptsd problems #meltdown #mental illness #mentally unhealthy #mental instability #mentally ill #mental help #i am angry

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grindeldoresongs · 5 years

Text

When We Were Young

So continuing with the ‘oh this song reminds of Grindeldore! Let’s go and describe the music video going on in my head!’ theme:

Song: When We Were Young

(This one is very long- hnnnn-)

Lyrics: Dumbledore, Grindelwald, both

^it doesn’t make sense all the time but whatever.

Also anyone who actually reads though all of this: ich liebe dichhhhhh

And sorry if it gets a bit less music video like at some parts, and I’m sorry for that- I should just make a song fic.

Everybody loves the things you do

While alone, Gellert thinks of how highly people speak of Dumbledore. He’s middle aged in this scene, and has yet to go to prison. He remembers how his great aunt spoke of the boy next door (cliches ;))

From the way you talk

He remembers how he too admired Dumbledore. The way he spoke was captivating to Gellert while both young and middle aged.

To the way you move

A flashback occurs, and we’re taken to another empty field, where the two are sitting underneath an oak tree, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. There’s a swift movement, then Albus’ lips are on Gellert’s.

Everybody here is watching you

We’re taken back to reality just as Grindelwald is. He looks at a new article about Albus... This reminds him Albus exists even outside his memories, and that hurts him. He tries his best not to show it though.

'Cause you feel like home

We’re taken to the barn, where they’re sprawled across some hay, closer than ever. They look peaceful, and they drift to sleep.

You're like a dream come true

Now we transition to young Albus opening his beautiful blue eyes. He sees Gellert. This is his dream come true- for the time being.

But if by chance you're here alone

He recalls the first time they’d met. He’d been invited over for supper or at least some tea with Ms. Bagshot, and he was alone with Gel as the owner of the house went to grab something quickly.

Can I have a moment

Tea time is over and Gellert walks Albus to the door, because of his great aunt of course.

Before I go?

Before Albus leaves he stares into Gellert’s eyes, hoping he doesn’t mind. Albus is just...very intrigued. The scene though looks a little bit like Albus looking up after having stared at the ground for long to avoid looking the taller boy in the eye. Then he stares.

'Cause I've been by myself all night long

It’s a bit after their first encounter and Albus is laying alone in his room, staring at the ceiling and the Phoenix flying about, when he hears a knock on his door.

Hoping you're someone I used to know

He looks out and it’s Gellert. He has a book in hand- seems Albus had forgotten it at their place.

You look like a movie

We finally get to see who’s remembering all of this, and we see it’s middle aged Dumbledore. He’s staring at what used to be his house back at Godric’s Hollow. He sees the very spot Gel used to climb into their house from. He thinks their past must’ve been fiction...it was so...perfect. Straight out of a movie!

You sound like a song

We get taken to the memory Dumbledore has of Gellert raving about the Hallows. He remembered how captivated he was. Every word hooked him more. Now we see a middle aged Gellert, touching the Hallows pendant.

My God, this reminds me

Back to Albus, as he smiles sadly at the ground.

Of when we were young

They’re in the forest now, with some parchment, some books and a quill.

Let me photograph you in this light

Dumbledore thinks of how much more he would’ve cherished his time as a happy teenager if he knew what would become of him and the man he...well...loved.

In case it is the last time

His mind brings him (and us) back to the last time they were happy. Before the duel. Before Ariana’s death.

That we might be exactly like we were

We see the duel. Magic everywhere.

Before we realized

Slow motion almost, as spells after spells are casted.

We were sad of getting old

Spells are still flying...but it’s a good 30 or so years later. Aberforth is out of the picture- but not in the way Gellert wanted- at the beginning at least.

It made us restless

Spells.

It was just like a movie

As Dumbledore casts a hex, he remembers their pointless duels in the mid afternoon sun.

It was just like a song

Gellert remembers the books they would read out loud.

I was so scared to face my fears

Albus remembers the first time he heard of Grindelwald as the ‘dark lord.’ He’s mortified.

Nobody told me that you'd be here

We see the pain in Dumbledore when he realizes he’s the only one who can stop this madness he used to support; for the ‘greater good.’

And I swear you moved overseas

It’s the day after Albus buried his sister...he expected Gellert to come back...to apologize. To try and justify his actions...to make Albus believe again.

That's what you said, when you left me

But no. He was gone.

You still look like a movie

The middle aged teacher Dumbledore also remembers seeing the papers about Grindy again after a while. ‘Oh how he’d changed...’

You still sound like a song

Dumbledore is now among the crowd- listening to Grindelwald’s speech. His voice is still so...

My God, this reminds me

A pang of nostalgia hits him as he leaves the room- not able to take this.

Of when we were young

Grindelwald sees that someone has gone- actually he knows it’s Albus. He had been the only one among the crowd to gain eye contact with Gellert during the beginning of his speech.

He hesitates for a moment- maybe too. He’s thinking of when Albus would disap(p?)erate into thin air to somewhere in Godric’s Hollow. Then Gellert would have to try to find him.

He goes back- a bit disgruntled, to the speech. The words ‘greater good’ suddenly don’t feel so good in his mouth.

Let me photograph you in this light

Dumbledore has disaperated to Hogwarts. He’s trying to forget what he saw...trying to hold on to the perfect past.

In case it is the last time

He thinks about the past...yes...he dwells on it. It’s almost like a dream.

That we might be exactly like we were

He wants to see it again. He wants to be there. He wants to be the 18 year old Hogwarts graduate in the summer of 1899. He goes to the pensive.

Before we realized

He dumps memories and memories into the peculiar thing. We go through flashes of all of them. We see how much they’d changed over the years. From the shy neighbours, to the friends, to the lovers, to the strangers...to the greatest rivals.

We were sad of getting old

As the years go by in the pensive; the older Dumbledore gets, the worse his life seems to be.

It made us restless

His eyes are pained. He wants to make it better. He knows he needs to face Grindelwald...but for now....he can’t. He won’t.

It was just like a movie

Middle aged Dumbledore closes his eyes, and we’re taken away to the green field again. In the background of the field, we see the abandoned barn, but everything is focused on the two boys, now standing. The shorter of the two is laughing, pointing his wand at the other, who is smirking- but he looks just as amused.

It was just like a song

The incantations coming out of their mouths flow as naturally as an ‘I love you,’ maybe...

When we were young x4

More sweet and unrealistic memories flash by us.

It's hard to admit that

We stop the flashes at the scene where Albus is holding hands with Gellert in the field, but then one last flash...Albus is alone, in the rain. He’s in the same place though, in the exact same position. Nothing seemed to have changed for Albus- but the world had moved on. This is symbolic in a way.

Everything just takes me back

Now it’s still raining, and we see a pair of feet walking on cobblestone. Then we flash to a time where it was sunny; summer no doubt. The same feet are shown, but now they’re accompanied by another pair. The two seem to be walking in step.

To when you were there

We zoom in on how their hands brush against each other.

To when you were there

Slowly...the first pair of feet we saw disappear. Now the weather seems to be darker as well. The streets change...but the feet are the same.

And a part of me keeps holding on

Now we can see what’s in the man’s hands. It’s a book... then wrapped around his other hand is a necklace. One with the infamous Deathy Hallows pendant on it.

Just in case it hasn't gone

We now fill on see Grindelwald, he is walking through Paris, rather aimlessly- but he walks by a shoppe window and looks to see his reflection maybe...and then the strangest thing happens. He sees...Dumbledore? He blinks- he’s gone.

I guess I still care

He realizes he hasn’t moved on yet.

Do you still care?

The stupid thought runs around through his mind, and we’re taken back to Dumbledore- who definitely still cares.

It was just like a movie

Now from Dumbledore’s window we’re taken over mountains and through time essentially to the two star gazing.

It was just like a song

Gellert ranting about the constellations as Albus falls asleep on his shoulder.

My God, this reminds me

We now only see the stars, then the camera (our perspective rather) is downwards again, only the boys aren’t there. No. It’s Gellert; under the quiet Parisian streets.

Of when we were young

You can see the nostalgia in his lighter eye and pain in the other.

When we were young x4

He starts walking back to his headquarters. He’s trying to think of why this is for the greater good and why thinking about the past this often is bad! Grindy is breaking down just a bit, consumed with emotions he’d locked away years ago.

Let me photograph you in this light

He stops, the memories and feels ambushing him seemed to have finally driven him over the edge. He’s in the middle of the road, but he doesn’t care. He’s looking up at the moon, remembering.

In case it is the last time

The night right before he left for Germany...when Albus had thought he’d already gone. Gellert, looked through the window he’d entered through all those years ago, and sighed. He would never be able to come back...from what he could tell. He touched the bricks once more, then disaperated.

That we might be exactly like we were

We see young Grindelwald in Germany, he seems to have it all under control, but every little flower and every blade of grass(!!!) reminds him of how he spent his summer.

Before we realized

Gellert stops himself- this time in the past.

We were sad of getting old

That last scene was the parallel of the one where Albus was alone in the rain, holding his hand up. Gellert slowly puts his up too...as if maybe someone would reach out and grab it. In our perspective, the frames are side by side, so it seems like they’re touching, even if they aren’t. Gellert is the first to pull his hand away. He then walks in the other direction, leaving Albus behind. Then with every step he takes, he gets older. Older...

It made us restless

Older..now Dumbledore is finally walking away...slowly. He too is aging with every step.

Oh, I'm so mad I'm getting old

We follow Dumbledore out of Godric’s Hollow into Hogwarts. His pants get replaced by robes...he’s old now. Very old.

It makes me reckless

He is looking into the mirror of Erised now...tormented by what he still sees.

It was just like a movie

He sees the fields again. Them running- or rather Albus running away from Gellert, only to be tackled

It was just like a song

He remembers their laughter, and we see it. We can only imagine how happy and pure the laughter sounds like...

When we were young

We’re taken back to Dumbledore’s perspective as an old man. We zoom in on the blue of his eyes. As the word ‘young’ comes about, we see the picture of young Gel and Al in old Dumbledore’s eyes fade away. Dumbledore closes his eyes and everything goes black.

Then a quote appears: “

//////

So this ist the second one and uh if anyone wants to do this- that would be near impossible, then yay please doooo, and tag me or something? So I can see it lmao, I need this and so many more. Sorry though if this is trash to you- I made almost all of this on the spot this time (oops). To be fair I didn’t think the song would be this long. (Also; don’t mind my mistakes with tenses.) But yea so I had the chorus in mind and whatever but then the rest was like Ooft.

#ggad #grindelwald #dumbledore #grindledore #gellert grindelwald #albus dumbledore #song fic like thingy #music video #music video in my mind

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foreverevanescent · 5 years

Text

Little Things (Patty Thompson x Death the Kid

Little Things

Patty Thompson and Death the Kid were walking back to Kid’s mansion. They had just been at a restaurant for another date night. It took a lot of convincing on Patty’s end to let Kid leave her older sister, Liz, alone at their house.

“That was really fun, Deathy!” Patty exclaimed, enveloping Kid into a hug. Kid chuckled a little to himself before giving Patty a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m glad you had fun Patty. It was a marvelous time. I just hope Liz kept the house nice and symmetrical for our return,” Death responded, walking up to the door to the mansion.

“Don’t worry about it, Deathy. I know that Lizzy took care of our home. She’s so responsible,” Patty said, patting Kid on the back. Kid smiled back at her before unlocking the door. However, once he opened the door and saw the inside of his living room, the smile on his face completely disappeared from his face

“Deathy? What’s wrong? Are we under attack!?” Patty screamed, looking around at supersonic speeds to scout any potential sources of suspicions.

“No, my darling, it is much worse,” Kid muttered, as he walked into his house, seeing Patty’s older sister, Liz, sitting on the couch in the living room with her feet on the table. However, Kid was not paying attention to her, as his focus was on the floor, which was covered in crumbs of various snacks. When Kid looked up on the table, he saw a couple of cups on the glass table, without coasters leaving marks on the glass.

“Liz! I told you to look after the house while I was gone! And I come back to find a mess all over my perfect table and carpets!?” Kid started ranting, with Patty still standing in front of the door.

“It’s not that big of a deal. I just had a couple of friends over for a little bit, and we watched a movie,” Liz stated, shrugging her shoulders. Kid’s face was starting to grow red in anger, and that’s when Patty came in to calm him down.

“Come on Deathy, don’t get so upset. It’s only some crumbs, we can clean it up,” Patty said while massaging Kid’s shoulders. After a few deep breaths, Kid looked at Liz with an unreadable face.

“I’ll overlook this only for tonight. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today. However, I expect you and your friends to be more careful with my home,” Kid stated, causing Patty to smile and hug his arm while Liz rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it. Now, I’ll leave you two to your cleaning,” Liz said, before being pulled back to the couch by Patty.

“Sis, when I said ‘we’, I meant you, me, and Deathy. All of us are going to clean the living room together!” Patty explained, causing a sigh to escape Liz’s lips. Before she could reply, Kid decided to make his thoughts known.

“Were you seriously planning on leaving without helping us clean!? You are not leaving this room until you help us get this room back to its clean and symmetrical glory!” Kid yelled, pointing to the floor, and throwing a miniature vacuum into Liz’s hands. Liz rolled her eyes before getting down on the floor to vacuum. While Patty was picking up crumbs too big for the vacuum cleaner to handle, Death the Kid kissed Patty on the cheek, before running his hand through her hair.

“Thank you for your help, Patty. I love you,” Kid whispered in his ears. Patty smiled back at Kid, before giving a kiss on the lips to Kid as a receipt.

“I love you too Deathy,” Patty said, giving Kid a hug. Before Death could return the hug, Liz walked in the room with the vacuum in her hands, and smirked.

“Awww…I knew you would be too distracted by my sister to do any work,” Liz playfully mocked, leaving Kid’s face covered in a blush.

“Well, we can afford to take a break, since this isn’t actually our mess,” Patty countered, smiling at her sister, who looked away before continuing to vacuum. Kid responded with a thank you kiss to Patty’s lips, before they continued their cleaning.

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