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anne-chloe · 4 months

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Darling Girl

Draco Malfoy x F! Reader [With slight x Harry Potter]

Summary : [Name] Darling is the youngest daughter of Aurora and Maximus Darling - two powerful witches and wizards who aided in the downfall of The Dark Lord himself.

When [Name] turns 11, she finally gets the chance to attend Hogwarts. During her 7 years of studying and learning to become the greatest Witch possible, [Name] must overcome a series of challenges, dangerous situations and the possibility of loving the enemy.

{This story has intense slow-burn. There is basically zero love for Draco in the beginning. Some sparks of feelings half way through. And basically full blown romance at the end. There may be drabbles of some Harry x Reader, but for plot purposes.}

01 | Darling

Year One

Stepping onto the London train platform, you listened cautiously to the bustling noise. New and returning students congregated around The Hogwarts Express steam train, sharing goodbyes with their families before hustling their trunks onto the loading train.

Your palms sweated as you gripped the trolley handle with complete nerves. Your heart thumped wildly. This was it, you thought with darting eyes, taking in your surroundings, my witchcraft journey starts today.

Behind you trailed your adoring parents, both of them sharing loving whispers and laughs, unaware of their nervous child in front of them. They spoke of their fond memories at Hogwarts only a decade earlier. While they spoke, they were also oblivious to the excited whispers of the wizard community surrounding them.

"Mummy," you finally said, coming to a halt as you neared the loading bay of the train. You spun around to face your parents, hair billowing over your shoulders in a graceful manner. Your bottom lip wobbled, fear striking your chest and making it almost difficult for you to breathe.

You would be embarking on this journey alone. Without the constant support of your parents. They would be so far away, on the other side of the country. How would you possibly cope?

"Mummy," you repeated, voice trembling, "I don't know if I can do this."

Aurora paused her conversation and shared a worried stare with Maximus. Aurora moved forwards and crouched down, taking your hands into her own and rubbing her thumb in soothing circles on the backs of your hand. You relaxed at the loving touch, trying to focus your mind on the comfort.

"My darling daughter," Aurora cooed, "nobody ever achieved anything without feeling a little fear. Have faith in yourself. Explore this new chapter of freedom and growth." Her hand released yours and reached ho to touch your cheek; you melted into the caress, tears glossing over your eyes. "Write to me about your adventures, about the memories you shall make and the friendships you will form."

You straightened your back, puffing out your chest in an attempt to embody some bravery. You felt a little more eased than a few minutes prior, but your knees still felt like jelly.

Maximus crouched next to Aurora, a bright smile stretched across his face. You were in awe at how beautiful your parents looked together. "Do not fear, little darling, we might not be with you at Hogwarts, but we are always at the other end of paper and quill."

Your mother leaned forwards and placed a gentle kiss upon your forehead. "Be extraordinary," Aurora whispered, her eyes full of love and adoration.

The final whistle sounded from the conductor. Aurora and Maximus shared an excited smile before they stood to their true heights. You bid your parents one final farewell, a restored excitement and confidence urging you to board the train alongside your fellow peers.

You rushed to the nearest window and immediately peered out in search for your parents. They stood where you had left them, fully in view and crowded by many other families. They caught your stare and waved, your mother blowing kisses and your father shooting a supportive thumbs up.

And as the train began departing from the station, you found your anxiety returning. This entire journey would be new and unfamiliar. You would experience new things by yourself, and you were trying to remain positive for the uncertain future.

It was roughly ten minutes later before you finally detached from the safety of the window. The other students had settled down into cosy cabins or train carts full of tables. Everyone had found a place, meanwhile you were struggling to discover somewhere to sit. You didn't recognise anybody; anyone who briefly glanced your way didn't offer much of a friendly smile.

Then, just as you were losing hope, you came upon a slightly empty cabin. Inside sat a lone blond boy, his attention diverted outside the passing scenery through the window. He glanced up as you opened the door, his blank canvas of an expression painting into surprise. He caught his composure, a small smile lifting his mouth upwards.

"Hello," you greeted nervously, stepping into the cabin with fleeing eyes. "My name is [Name]. [Name] Darling. May I sit in here with you? Everywhere else is particularly full."

The boy gestured to the empty seat opposite him. Relieved, you sat down. Your hands fell immediately into your lap, fingers twisting nervously around.

"Draco Malloy. Your surname is familiar, have we met before?" Draco inquired with a raised brow.

You thought for a moment, scouring your memories for any recollection of ever meeting Draco before. But you couldn't think of ever seeing him, or hearing of his name. Despite this, Malloy seemed familiar, so you assumed that perhaps he was part of an upper class wizarding family.

You shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't think so. But your surname also sounds familiar, perhaps our parents are friends?" You suggested.

"Who are your parents?"

"Aurora and Maximus Darling."

At this, Draco seemed to brighten. "We should be friends," he immediately suggested, his eagerness catching you off guard. You knew your parents names would have a large influence on your social life given their status as legendary wizards, mostly due to their incredible input during The Dark Lords reign of fear. Draco stuck out his hand, and while got eyed it suspiciously for a moment, you shook his hand firmly.

"Friends," you repeated softly, enjoying how the word sounded. "Yes, I think we should be rather good friends."

As the train ride continued, you spoke with Draco about many things. Two more individuals of your age entered the cabin, joining in to the conversation. Crabbe and Goyle, as they introduced themselves, and you found them rather interesting as they sucked up to Draco. It became quickly clear that Draco knew them from before joining Hogwarts, and it was also clear that Draco was the 'leader' of their little group.

"I'm going to be in Slytherin," Draco announced into the conversation. You had been discussing almost everything you knew about Hogwarts. "Everybody in my family has been a Slytherin, so I have no doubts that I will too."

Draco then turned to you, his brow raised expectantly. "And what about you, what house do you think you'll be sorted in to?"

You shuffled in your seat. You hadn't given the sorting ceremony much thought. Your mother was a Ravenclaw while your father was a Gryffindor. Their love story was incredibly comical - your father was head over heels in love with your mother, and he chased her down with his love until she eventually caved in. Having said that, your older sister was a Slytherin, too.

"I'd be happy with any house," you finally said, much to the disdain of Draco.

Draco scoffed, rolling his eyes at your answer. "We all know Slytherin is the superior house to be sorted in to!" He smirked, then added: "but I suppose I'd even prefer Gryffindor to being sorted as a Hufflepuff."

You hummed. "What's wrong with being a Hufflepuff?"

"They're utter wimps," Draco sneered without missing a beat. "None of them have a single backbone in their body. They'd all rather run away and hide. Useless."

You fell quiet after that. You were quick to realise that Draco harboured strong opinions that he valued close to his heart. Your sister had warned you that many Hogwarts students had their opinions heavily influenced by their parents, and it seemed as though you'd witnessed one first hand.

But it also made you think about your own opinions and values - were they influenced by your parents? It surely couldn't be a complete bad thing to value your parents thoughts, because didn't they know better? They had experienced events that you hadn't, which shaped their thoughts around serious matters in the world. Your parents weren't particularly bothered about which house any of their children belonged to, and they supported the outcome regardless. They were overjoyed that Bonnie was sorted into Slytherin, expressing emphasis that anyone can achieve anything with the resources and support they are given.

Night had fallen when the train arrived at Hogsmede Station. You clambered off alongside everybody else, watching with anxious eyes as the taller students walked freely down the path that would lead them to Hogwarts. You had already started to follow them before hearing a booming voice shout: "First Years this way!", to which you changed course and followed like a lost sheep.

A giant man stood incredibly taller than you and the other students. Even compared to the older students, he would still tower above them. You admired him with a mixture of awe and fear, but you tried your hardest to not show it, instead whispering "be brave" under your breath to still your unease. Eventually, once the station had cleared out of all students, the giant man lead the awaiting first years down a rocky path, where he encouraged everyone to board the boats that were docked on a river bed.

You sat inside one of the boats alongside Draco, Crabbe and Goyle. They chatted amongst themselves while you kept your eyes glued to the castle that loomed in the closing distance, it's shadow cast large from the moon rising behind it.

Soon, you arrived at the school. Again, you blindly followed the giant towards the front of the school, where an older woman stood patiently waiting. Her eyes scanned the crowd of students carefully, as if searching for a particular face. Whether she spotted them or not, you couldn't say, because she then started to speak:

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she greeted. "I am Professor McGonagall, the Deputy Headmistress and Head of Gryffindor House..."

You eyed the witch closely. She wore robes of a stunning dark green with a pointed hat that sat proudly on her head. Her hands were folded in front of her as she spoke firmly and clearly to the group of new students.

"Now," she cleared her throat, "if you'll follow me."

The flock of students walked closely behind Professor McGonagall, most desperate to keep up with her sharp pace. Her robes billowed behind her as she gestured to many hallways and rooms that the group passed through or by, explaining what they were and what they were for. The information shot straight over your head as you scanned the intimidating halls, watching as paintings and knight statues waved, nodded and gave subtle greetings.

Standing outside large double doors, the students watched Professor McGonagall curiously as she turned to face the students once more. "Once inside we will conduct the sorting ceremony to discover which house you will belong to: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Slytherin or Ravenclaw. Your name will be called out and you will be encouraged to the front of the Hall."

While Professor McGonagall spoke, you realised Draco was suddenly speaking to another boy. His hair messy, glasses slightly too large for his face. You zoned in to their conversation curiously.

"Draco Malfoy. You'd be wise to make friends with the right sort," Draco said with his hand jutted out for the unsuspecting boy to take. "Unlike a Weasley , who would only damage your reputation."

You felt bad for the boy.

"No thanks, I think I can tell the right sorts for myself."

At this, Draco's smile morphed into a deep scowl. Before he could snap back a nasty response, Professor McGonagall clapped her hands to regain the wandering attention of the students, just in time for the doors to swing open. She gestured for the young group to follow.

You felt all eyes fall to the group. Professor Dumbledore stood at the very front of the school, looming over the podium with a sincere smile upon his face.

While walking down the centre of the hall, you discreetly tried to search for Bonnie. You found the Slytherin table with ease; the serpent insignia hanging proudly above the long table with its silver and green colours. However, names were already being summoned to the front of the hall, where students were started to be sorted, giving you less time to search for your awol sister.

"[Name] Darling."

Your attention snapped to the front. A few murmurs and whispers flew about the hall as you found yourself automatically shuffling out of the crowd of students. You blinked owlishly at the hat sitting upon the stool, it's creases morphing into some sort of grin as you came closer.

You swallowed nervously. This is it, you thought as the hat was lifted and you perched yourself onto the stool. You stared straight ahead, finding Draco's eyes staring straight back at you from the crowd. The hat settled upon your head, and you tried not to squirm under its weight.

"Ah," it spoke, it's voice sounding loud in your ears. You fought back a shiver. "Another Darling!"

You couldn't help but wonder what your sisters thoughts were at this very moment. Would she be bothered if you were sorted in to Slytherin or not? Would she care? You couldn't imagine she would seek you out after she abruptly left home midway through the summer holidays.

You desired her support for you, yet with the way she left on such a sour note, you felt as though you would have to be brave for yourself.

Be brave, you chanted, fighting back the urge to cry, be brave.

"Be brave," the sorting hat repeated, basically mocking you as you let out an audible gasp. Was it somehow reading your thoughts? You were in awe at the type of magic. "Youngest daughter of Aurora and Maximus Darling; a brilliant Ravenclaw and a daring Gryffindor... your heritage is certainly one to live up to! You're brimming with ambition, knowing what you want, but you're uncertain of how to get it. Perhaps... Hufflepuff would suit your needs? But, no, you don't entirely play fairly, which you must have inherited from your sister..."

Where was Bonnie? You searched almost desperately for her kind eyes, but found yourself only gazing in to the unreadable stares of the awaiting students, who all listened with a certain intensity to the sorting hat as it spoke of your qualities and what you lacked.

You wished your parents were here to support you. You didn't recognise any of these students. You felt almost like prey to a predator. You felt lost and alone. You needed to be brave, to have confidence in yourself - you'd already made a friend, Draco, and despite him slowly showing his truer colours as the train ride went on, you valued your friendship for him regardless.

"Interesting... very interesting indeed..."

You squirmed upon hearing the hat chuckle to your thoughts.

"Bravery. Yes, indeed you value bravery. Which is why you must be..."

"Gryffindor!"

#harry potter #Harry Potter and the philosopher’s stone #Draco Malfoy x reader #female reader #own characters #fan fiction #angst #magic #fantasy #Harry Potter x reader #pure blood wizards #muggle born wizards #slowburn #book 1 to book 7 #very long story #fluff #enemies to lovers

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thevalkyriewarrior · 4 months

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Feeling emotional about losing my first car

#i was selling her but like #gone to a scrap yard now #very long story #was just picked up today.#i'm having feelings about it

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endusviolence · 2 months

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Rowling isn't denying holocaust. She just pointed out that burning of transgender health books is a lie as that form of cosmetic surgery didn't exist. But of course you knew that already, didn't you?

I was thinking I'd probably see one of you! You're wrong :) Let's review the history a bit, shall we?

In this case, what we're talking about is the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or in English, The Institute of Sexology. This Institute was founded and headed by a gay Jewish sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld. It was founded in July of 1919 as the first sexology research clinic in the world, and was run as a private, non-profit clinic. Hirschfeld and the researchers who worked there would give out consultations, medical advice, and even treatments for free to their poorer clientele, as well as give thousands of lectures and build a unique library full of books on gender, sexuality, and eroticism. Of course, being a gay man, Hirschfeld focused a lot on the gay community and proving that homosexuality was natural and could not be "cured".

Hirschfeld was unique in his time because he believed that nobody's gender was either one or the other. Rather, he contended that everyone is a mixture of both male and female, with every individual having their own unique mix of traits.

This leads into the Institute's work with transgender patients. Hirschfeld was actually the one to coin the term "transsexual" in 1923, though this word didn't become popular phrasing until 30 years later when Harry Benjamin began expanding his research (I'll just be shortening it to trans for this brief overview.) For the Institute, their revolutionary work with gay men eventually began to attract other members of the LGBTA+, including of course trans people.

Contrary to what Anon says, sex reassignment surgery was first tested in 1912. It'd already being used on humans throughout Europe during the 1920's by the time a doctor at the Institute named Ludwig Levy-Lenz began performing it on patients in 1931. Hirschfeld was at first opposed, but he came around quickly because it lowered the rate of suicide among their trans patients. Not only was reassignment performed at the Institute, but both facial feminization and facial masculization surgery were also done.

The Institute employed some of these patients, gave them therapy to help with other issues, even gave some of the mentioned surgeries for free to this who could not afford it! They spoke out on their behalf to the public, even getting Berlin police to help them create "transvestite passes" to allow people to dress however they wanted without the threat of being arrested. They worked together to fight the law, including trying to strike down Paragraph 175, which made it illegal to be homosexual. The picture below is from their holiday party, Magnus Hirschfeld being the gentleman on the right with the fabulous mustache. Many of the other people in this photo are transgender.

[Image ID: A black and white photo of a group of people. Some are smiling at the camera, others have serious expressions. Either way, they all seem to be happy. On the right side, an older gentleman in glasses- Magnus Hirschfeld- is sitting. He has short hair and a bushy mustache. He is resting one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. His other hand is being held by a person to his left. Another person to his right is holding his shoulder.]

There was always push back against the Institute, especially from conservatives who saw all of this as a bad thing. But conservatism can't stop progress without destroying it. They weren't willing to go that far for a good while. It all ended in March of 1933, when a new Chancellor was elected. The Nazis did not like homosexuals for several reasons. Chief among them, we break the boundaries of "normal" society. Shortly after the election, on May 6th, the book burnings began. The Jewish, gay, and obviously liberal Magnus Hirschfeld and his library of boundary-breaking literature was one of the very first targets. Thankfully, Hirschfeld was spared by virtue of being in Paris at the time (he would die in 1935, before the Nazis were able to invade France). His library wasn't so lucky.

This famous picture of the book burnings was taken after the Institute of Sexology had been raided. That's their books. Literature on so much about sexuality, eroticism, and gender, yes including their new work on trans people. This is the trans community's Alexandria. We're incredibly lucky that enough of it survived for Harry Benjamin and everyone who came after him was able to build on the Institute's work.

[Image ID: A black and white photo of the May Nazi book burning of the Institute of Sexology's library. A soldier, back facing the camera, is throwing a stack of books into the fire. In the background of the right side, a crowd is watching.]

As the Holocaust went on, the homosexuals of Germany became a targeted group. This did include transgender people, no matter what you say. To deny this reality is Holocaust denial. JK Rowling and everyone else who tries to pretend like this isn't reality is participating in that evil. You're agreeing with the Nazis.

But of course, you knew that already, didn't you?

Edit: Added image IDs. I apologize to those using screen readers for forgetting them. Please reblog this version instead.

#transgender #trans history #transsexual #transphobia #Magnus Hirschfeld #holocaust #holocaust denial #book burning #j.k. rowling #jk rowling #just in case you missed what i mean by all this: go fuck yourself anon :)#trans people have always existed #and we will always exist #if you really wanna pick a fight with me over well-documented history then you better bring in some sources to back your shit #queer history #queer #lgbt+#lgbta+#lgbt #lgbt history #edit: i finally got around to those damn image IDs. i am so very sorry for totally forgetting that's my bimbo moment of the month #also real quick i thought about adding an image of the actual building but the only one i can find has a Nazi parade in front of it #it was taken the day of the book burning raid and honestly if i were to include it then i'd add it to the first few paragraphs #and i think the story's better told when you uphold the hope Magnus Hirschfeld and all the researchers he worked with had #also keeps being brought up: yes Hirschfeld was a eugenicist. it was a popular belief set that was only discredited after WW2 #Hirschfeld died in 1935. he literally didn't live long enough to see science turn against those beliefs and practices #considering how he changed his mind on transitions i like to think he would've changed his mind on eugenics too if he'd lived

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enchantedspherosis · 1 month

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First Tarragon double release!

I just published both chapter seven and eight of Tarragon on Wattpad! Together, they total up to about ten thousand words, and are two of the best chapters so far (in my objectively correct opinion) Read chapter seven here: https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/360307834/write/1433375034 Alternatively, read chapter one here: https://www.wattpad.com/1413663718-tarragon-chapter-one-the-icehorn-incident

#tarragon #writers on tumblr #writers on wattpad #writing #original story #very long story #like seriously it's gonna take a year or three to finish #I might have to rewrite chapters 1-50 after finishing it because you know standards of writing #but until then this is some of my best work #also all my opinions are objectively correct #I know this because I have 41 reads on a story I wrote which makes me an internet celebrity #therefore all my opinions are fact and you should blindly follow whatever I have to say without giving a second thought to what you're #being told

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holyheadshot · 5 months

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No that's an entirely different prophecy that I hate.

#Very long story #ic

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makingqueerhistory · 10 months

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I’m actually serious about this, if at all possible, right now is a very good time to request queer books from your local library. Whether they get them or not is not in your control, but it is so important to show that there is a desire for queer books. I will also say getting more queer books in libraries and supporting queer authors are pretty fantastic byproducts of any action.

This isn’t something everyone can do, but please do see if you are one of the people who has the privilege to engage in this form of activism, and if you are, leverage that privilege for all you’re worth.

For anyone who can’t think of a queer book to request, here is a little list of some queer books that I think are underrated and might not be in circulation even at larger libraries:

Refusing Compulsory Sexuality: A Black Asexual Lens on Our Sex-Obsessed Culture by Sherronda J. Brown

Silver Under Nightfall by Rin Chupeco

Harvard's Secret Court: The Savage 1920 Purge of Campus Homosexuals by William Wright

The Perks of Loving a Wallflower by Erica Ridley

God Themselves by Jae Nichelle

IRL by Tommy Pico

The Pink Line: Journeys Across the World's Queer Frontiers by Mark Gevisser

Passing Strange by Ellen Klages

The New Queer Conscience by Adam Eli

Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars: A Dangerous Trans Girl's Confabulous Memoir by Kai Cheng Thom

Queering the Tarot by Cassandra Snow

Wash Day Diaries by Jamila Rowser

Queer Magic: Lgbt+ Spirituality and Culture from Around the World by Tomás Prower

Before We Were Trans: A New History of Gender by Kit Heyam

Beyond the Pale by Elana Dykewomon

Hi Honey, I'm Homo! by Matt Baume

The Deep by Rivers Solomon

Homie: Poems by Danez Smith

The Secret Life of Church Ladies by Deesha Philyaw

The Companion by E.E. Ottoman

Kapaemahu by Dean Hamer, Joe Wilson, Hinaleimoana Wong-Kalu

Sacrament of Bodies by Romeo Oriogun

Witching Moon by Poppy Woods

Tell Me I'm Worthless by Alison Rumfitt

Dead Collections by Isaac Fellman

Disintegrate/Dissociate by Arielle Twist

Dear Senthuran: A Black Spirit Memoir by Akwaeke Emezi

Peaches and Honey by Imogen Markwell-Tweed

Nepantla: An Anthology Dedicated to Queer Poets of Color by Christopher Soto

#queer books #queer history #lgbt history #honestly #libraries are a massive resource in terms of preserving and uplifting marginalized narratives #and as a community #that has been so very excluded from both fictional and nonfictional narratives #this is a great way to reclaim and care for the stories that have been surpressed for so long

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anuphim · 1 month

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so. i recently had an idea.

#lamb is very fun to draw with long hair #i am still working out the details for this au like idk who to make the horse but #might twist/change some stuff in the original tangled story just to fit cotl better #like for the bishops #but i have MANY THOUGHTS #cult of the lamb #cotl #narilamb #true devotion #narinder #the one who waits #shamura #cotl aym #cotl baal #ratau #tangled au #my art

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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 4 months

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No time to play. You are being sent away.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

#poorly drawn mdzs #mdzs #yu ziyuan #jiang yanli #jiang cheng #wei wuxian #Do you know how hard it was to *not* do a 'Sold To One Direction' spoof comic? It took nearly all my will power.#Mostly because it misaligns a little too far off from the canon events and vibes.#But sit with me for a moment. Consider it:#“BEEP BEEP BEEP. I threw my pillow at my alarm clock. ”Wei Wuxian get your lazy ass downstairs!“ Yu Ziyuan yelled.#I ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror to see my grey orbs staring back at me.#I put my long straight black hair in a ponytail with a red ribbon.#I went downstairs to see my adoptive mother holding a bottle of vodka and a cigarette.#'Listen up whore! I need money to pay the bills so I sold you. Your new owners will be here any minute so go pack!'#I stormed upstairs. There was no way I was going to let her sell me to a creepy old man!#I decided to run away. Since I'm not like other girls I don't have very many friends.#My gay friend Lan Zhan was mean but he lived like a block away.#As I opened the door I saw Wen Chao blocking the door. 'Ello Love. We're your new owners!'#I rolled my eyes and pushed him. 'Aren't you from that stupid Wen Sect? There's no way in hell I'm going with you!'#Hey again. It's me the OP of this blog taking a pause. I haven't actually read this story before aside from the memes #and I am honestly reeling from how this watpad fic chapter ends. What do you mean one of the one direction boys chloroforms her???#Chapter 2 is so much worse #Why is there such a strong focus on the *eyes* of every boy!!!#This fanfic is a horror story actually. I came into it trying to make a funny parody but I got in over my head. Dear God.#It's me again. Several minutes have passed and I'm on chapter 4. What the FUCK is going on here?#I feel like I opened up pandora's box hoping for a fun little treat and got the plauge upon me. Dont read this fic.

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bringerofdeathandtheapocolypse · 1 year

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The new edited versions of chapters 1 to 8 have been uploaded along with a change to the summary. So happy to have them finished and uploaded.

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ascesabo · 4 months

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the great irony of early one piece antagonists believing zoro was the actual captain and using luffy as a puppet ... oda really threw us a bone and curb-stomped it right in our faces. yes, zoro could be a captain in his own right. yes, zoro could match luffy in strength. yes, zoro knows this perfectly well. and you know what? he chose luffy two years ago, and he will continue to choose luffy again and again. roronoa zoro, the pirate hunter, who followed a wannabe pirate with a nonexistent crew on a whim because luffy brought him his swords and made a half-assed attempt at a bargain. zoro, who made a vow to never lose again on both his and luffy's honor. zoro, who told luffy he'd make him commit harakiri if he got in the way of zoro's goal, only to turn around and be willing to sacrifice his dream if it means that luffy reaches his. zoro, who stood in place and took luffy's pain and told a warlord to take his head instead of luffy's, who got down on his knees before his supposed rival and begged mihawk to mentor him so that he could return strong enough to protect his captain. zoro, who has conqueror's haki- a natural born leader- but chooses to stay at the right hand of a man he has deemed greater than himself.

and the thing that luffy fears most? being alone. being rejected. being left behind. and what should have been his foil- the pirate hunter to his pirate king, the nonbeliever to his divine, the king of hell to his sun god- instead becomes his first and most devout follower; the one who demands to follow him to hell and back. oughhhggg i'm sick to my stomach

#one piece #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy #zolu #what the hell is wrong with him #the very definition of becoming bewitched body and soul #do you get me #luffy is zoro's helen of troy #in that #he'd launch a thousand ships to put a smile on luffy's face #i need to crack open that mossy green head of his and see what's going on inside #has anyone told oda that he could possibly be cooking one of the greatest love stories the shounen genre has ever seen #one piece is a 26 year long ongoing slowburn #luffy: it's rotten work!!! ^_^#zoro: yeah i fuckin know but god what does it matter. it's for you #pls dont tag as platonic lmao

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b0tster · 11 months

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Who is your favorite Zelda character?

who do u think lmao

#groose is a close second #but midna saved tp imo #at least the story #and like yeag the first zelda character with an actual arc hits really hard #like i love botw and totk's gameplay focus but i miss when zelda had good stories #and tp fumbled it a bit but midna was a good first step #with SS really delivering a well rounded story with multiple interesting characters who go through arcs #and i feel like botw and totk really walked that back #oh well #billion copies sold or whatever #prolly wont be getting a story focused zelda in a very long time #q.q

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flanaganfilm · 1 year

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Good day Mr Flanagan. please what does "the rest is confetti" mean to you and in the context it was used in hill house??

Okay, here we go. Buckle up for a long read.

To answer this, I've got to explain a little bit about what was happening and where I was when I sat down to write episode 10 of The Haunting of Hill House.

Hill House was not a fun shoot. The picture above is from very early in production, when I was still chubby and happy.

It was my first foray into television. I was absolutely terrified that I'd mess it up. So I'd opted to direct all of the episodes myself, figuring that - if nothing else - I'd have no one else to blame if it went south.

It was the most grueling professional experience of my career. The shoot was by no means a smooth one, every day was an uphill battle from a budgetary perspective, and between the three giant production entities involved with the production, I spent a lot of time fighting over the creative and logistical elements of the series.

I began losing weight. I was smoking two packs of cigarettes a day.

By the end of the shoot, I had dropped almost 40 lbs.

I was very depressed. Every day was a battle, and for the first time in my career, I wasn't excited to go to work in the morning. We were fighting for basic resources, fighting for the show we wanted, and even fighting amongst ourselves by the end. It was grueling.

We hadn't written all of the scripts when we started production. I believe we had finished through episode 7, but the rest of the scripts had to be finished while we were already shooting.

We'd mapped everything out in the writers room, and I had great support on the other episodes, but I was writing the finale solo. I'd thought I'd be able to juggle it with everything else. I quickly fell behind.

I finally got to the script about halfway through production. I'd work on it between takes at the monitor, and then get home to our tiny rental house in Atlanta, where Kate was waiting with our baby son. (One of the rare bright spots of this shoot came when Kate found out she was pregnant about halfway through production. We even named our daughter Theodora, in honor of her origins.)

I'd typically fall down from exhaustion when I got home, but I had to push through it and work on the script. My weekends were spent shotlisting and prepping for upcoming episodes. We didn't have enough time to stay ahead of prep, so every available day was used for that... I went three months without a single day off at one point.

I'd sit up late staring at the script. I was in a dark, dark place. Overwhelmed, exhausted, and feeling like I lived in an eternal present. Each day bled into the next and it didn't feel like there was an end in sight. That feeling of unreality was heightened because we kept returning to the same sets, same locations, and even the same scenes throughout the 100 shooting-day production. Stepping back into the exact room we had shot in days or weeks or even months ago made the whole thing feel absolutely surreal. Making movies is always an non-linear experience, but this one felt particularly so... it was like the days of our lives were happening to us all out of order.

I remember feeling something like despair creeping into my daily experience on the show. And I remember dwelling on that when I got into the scene work of episode 10.

As I worked through the draft, I recall that despair coloring a lot of what was on the page. My filter was breaking down. There's a monologue at the beginning of the episode where Steven's wife Leigh (played by my dear friend Samantha Sloyan) spews out a torrent of eviscerating insults about Steve's value as a writer. That is just me vomiting onto myself. She was voicing all of my deepest insecurities about myself at the time, and of what I was doing with this series.

She says "Is anything real before you write it, Steve? The things you write about, they're real. Those people are real, their feelings are real, their pain is real - but not to you, is it. Not until you chew it up, digest it, and shit it out onto a piece of paper and even then, it's a pale imitation at best."

This was the mindset I was in for a lot of the shoot. The writing became a reflection of a lot of that turmoil, and I knew who I was referring to in that monologue - I was talking about my family. I was talking about how much of their lives I'd used as building material for this show. I was talking about the fact that I'd lost two loved ones to suicide, and seen what it had done to my mother in particular. And I knew I was using - possibly even exploiting - those people for this series.

There's a lot of despair in this episode. The Red Room, as we conceived it, was a place that would feed upon those emotions. Grief, sadness, loss... those were the real ghosts of our series, and where our characters find themselves at the start of the finale. They're being slowly digested - eaten alive - by those feelings.

So finally, it came time to write Nell's final scene with her siblings. I knew from the outline we'd constructed in the writers room what this was supposed to accomplish - she was supposed to be their salvation. She was supposed to take all of these feelings that we'd been wrestling with and finally provide catharsis... finally say something that would free everyone.

I remember sitting with a blinking cursor for a long time. The Crain siblings had just turned and seen Nellie standing by the door, and suddenly were able to hear her speak. But what should she say? What would I say? What would I want someone to say to me?

What she ultimately says lays bare a lot of what I was thinking about when it comes to grief. It exists outside of linear time, much as I felt I existed at the time. That sense of eternal present, that sense of a nonlinear eternity of moments and memories - it all came out in her speech to her brothers and sisters.

I remember feeling, looking at my insane present and looking back at my past, how strangely overwhelmed I was by memories. That I wasn't experiencing time in a straight line, and hadn't been for a while - for the better part of a year, I'd felt more like I was standing in a whirlwind of moments. "Our moments fall around us like..." Nell said, and I recall sitting back and trying to find the words.

"Rain," for certain, but there was something too uniform about that. The moments of life as I experienced them weren't that orderly, they weren't that small. They didn't fall the same way. Some sailed by, fast and unremarkable, while others lingered in front of me, twisting and stretching. So it was a good word, but not the right word. I left it on the page though.

"Snow" was my next attempt. Better, in that I imagined the snow blowing in the wind, swirling and dancing and feeling more organic. More chaotic. More like life. But for some reason, the word that stuck with me, the word I felt Nell Crain would connect with was...

"Confetti."

And that was because I was thinking not of Victoria Pedretti at this point, but of Violet McGraw.

Violet played Young Nell, and I wondered what she might have said if she experienced time this way. As an adult, Nell was despairing. Nell was overwhelmed. But as a child... there was an innocence to the word. There was a joy to the word.

I imagined moments falling around her, this little girl with the big smile and the wide eyes. Her moments would be colorful. They would be of different shapes and sizes, some falling fast and some falling slow, flipping and turning and dancing in the air, independent of the others. Sparkling, whirling, doing lazy summersaults as they sauntered down to Earth.

I thought of myself, and of the members of my family. I thought of those we'd lost. I realized what I hoped for them, and for us all, in the end... was to look upon that mosaic of experience, that avalanche of days and minutes and moments... and to smile with some of the joy we had as children.

And this, I thought, was something that gave me hope. This gave me a glimpse of some kind of salvation for them. This was also how I hoped my life might seem if I was a ghost - a cascade of color and light and shape and movement, something I could dance in.

So Nell smiled and said... "or confetti."

It stuck with me. The rest of her monologue gets heavy again, and gets to the real point of the show - the point of the whole series, if I'm honest - and that's forgiveness.

I figured the only thing that would let the Crain children out of the Red Room was to be forgiven. I thought of the losses in my own family, and I thought of what I wished for my mother and for my aunts and uncles and cousins and I tried to pour that into her final words.

"I loved you completely, and you loved me the same," she said, "that's all." And this was the point I wanted the most to make. That at the end of our life, if we can say this about each other, the rest doesn't matter. The rest is that rainstorm, or that blizzard, that fell around this one central truth, and maybe built itself in piles around it, to the point we lost sight of it along the way.

And I thought again of that little girl, and almost as an afterthought, wrote "The rest is confetti."

I liked the way it sounded, but I was insecure about the line. I almost took it out, in fact. I remember asking Kate to read the scene and talking about that last line with her. "Is it too cute?" I wondered. She was on the fence. "Depends on how it's acted," she said, and I figured she was right. We could always take it out if it didn't work. The scene could end with "I loved you completely, and you loved me the same. That's all."

Why not shoot it and see what happened.

I turned in the script, we published it quickly so that we could start breaking it down and prepping it. And the next morning I was back on set. I'd deal with episode 10 when it came down the pipe again, sometime in the coming months. We had a lot of shooting to get through before I had to worry about it.

I recall Netflix asking me to cut a lot of that monologue, and I remember them also having questions about the "confetti" line. I pointed out that it didn't cost us any extra to shoot it all, it was only words, and fought to keep the script intact.

Ultimately, they insisted I make a series of cuts on the page. I begrudgingly agreed, but left Nell's speech alone. I made superficial cuts around it, throughout the draft, and even considered changing the font size to fool them into thinking it had gotten shorter (I ultimately was told I wouldn't fool anyone and not to risk starting a war). But Nellie's final goodbye stayed intact.

It must be said - Victoria Pedretti SLAUGHTERED this scene.

By the time we got around to filming it, things had never been worse for the production. There was almost nothing left for a lot of us. Tensions were sky-high, resources had been exhausted completely, and we were all ready to give up.

Filming in the mold-ridden Red Room was depressing, morose, and led to a lot of arguments and unpleasantness. The room itself just felt gross, always, and we were in there for days at a time. The last thing we had to shoot in there was Nellie's goodbye.

Victoria came to set having to push through pages of monologue, and she did so with captivating bravado. I recall being teary-eyed at the monitor watching her work. And when we finally made it to the last line, I watched her deliver it with... a smile. A sincere, innocent, longing, joyful smile. A smile informed by the sadness, grief, and loss of her own situation, of her own life... but a smile that finds forgiveness and grace after all. Pedretti knew how to say the line, and how that word would work.

And as she said it, I knew it would stay in the show.

Over the years, that sentence has become something of a tagline for The Haunting of Hill House. I'm always a bit mystified and touched when I see people approach me with the line on T-shirts, or even tattooed on their bodies.

I started signing it with autographs back in 2020 after enough fans asked me to. Now it's my go-to when I sign anything related to Hill House.

The line, for me, represents a lot of things.

It's about the insane, chaotic, non-linear experience of making that show. It's about trying to find and hold onto joy, even in the grips of despair.

It's about the way the moments of our lives aren't linear, not really, and how we may be unable to understand them as we exist in their flurry. It's about finding hope, innocence and forgiveness in the final reckoning.

And it's about how, outside of our love for each other, the rest is just... well, it's fleeting. It's colorful. It's overwhelming. It's blinding. It's dancing. And, if we look at it right, it's beautiful. But it's also light. It's tinsel. It flits and dances and falls and fades, it's as light as air.

The rest is the stuff that falls around us, and flits away into nothing.

It's the love that stays.

#haunting of hill house #the rest is confetti #that was a very long story #man I was not okay while we were shooting that #forgiveness #heal

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