SCORPIO: You can remember every terrible thing that’s ever put its hands on you but recalling a small act of kindness can bring you trembling to your knees. Sometimes you have to fight back against your brain, against the voice that’s telling you that all you’ve ever gotten from the world is heartbreak and devastation. There comes a moment when you have to choose what to forget and what to remember, and that time is on the horizon. You’re running out of space in yourself for newer, softer memories. Don’t cast them away for those things that don’t deserve it.
SAGITTARIUS: Devote time to yourself this month. I know that sometimes every positive thing that leaves your lips feels like a lie and the people that surround you don’t always tell you that you matter, but you’re still whole. Nobody can take that away from you. Do you remember the last time you laughed so hard that your belly ached? I know that it often feels like you’re never going to reach that feeling of joy again, but you will. Don’t be afraid to cut out the people that bring you down. Your heart is not a toy or something to prod and subject to experiments. Act tenderly.
CAPRICORN: Lately everything that’s graced your tongue has been tinged with bitterness, which says more about your taste buds than it does about what you’ve been pressing to your mouth. It’s not always that the object or the person or the situation itself that’s bathed in sourness: sometimes it’s the way you’re consuming it. You have the tendency to take a perfectly sweet environment and turn it into something difficult to swallow, because whenever life comes easily to you a cloud of suspicion engulfs it. Give yourself a break from making things more difficult than they need to be.
AQUARIUS: Have you ever thought that maybe ghost stories fascinate you so much because of your inclination to play dead? It’s so much easier to be a spirit than to have one, to hide under beds and sneak around the issues: but what are you avoiding by doing this? Who are you hurting? I know that this is easy to forget when you’ve been not quite a person for so long, but everyone would much rather embrace your physical form than whisper disjointed fragments to an invisible, intangible body. Existence looks beautiful on you. You were made for color.
PISCES: You have maps with red pen marks littering your bedroom floor because you’ve only ever dreamt of being in a house that isn’t this one. That could be because you love traveling, but it could also be because you’ve never found a place you could comfortably call ‘home.’ I suppose this is a cliche that you’ve seen before, perhaps on a poster in a doctor’s office, but you have to become comfortable with yourself before attempting to navigate landscapes or else every location you visit will feel like a movie set. You’ll find your place eventually. Give it time to grow for you.
ARIES: It’s easier to make people laugh than it is to tell them how you’re feeling, and at this point you could be a stand-up comedian with all the practice you’ve had. I’m sorry that you’ve so often felt the need to hide behind a mask in order to make everyone around you comfortable. I want you to know that you’re allowed to be vocal about the things that make you happy, or the things that upset you. You don’t have to be afraid of asking for help, if you feel that you’re slipping off of the edge. There are so many hands outstretched, ready to lift you up.
TAURUS: You know more than anyone else how exhausting it is to tend to people that don’t deserve it but, for some reason, you keep doing it anyways. Perhaps it’s all become routine, or you’re comfortable with the familiar, however that doesn’t change that your average level of happiness is set on a sliding scale dependent on another’s attention. You define happiness with instagram likes and unremarkable moments: this has become commonplace. It shouldn’t be, but I think that you already know that. So, why are you refusing to believe that which you know is true? For what purpose?
GEMINI: Every dream that you have is short-lived because nobody’s ever told you that it’s okay to linger within a state of indecision. Not knowing what you want from the world has become a dirty secret that you bury in your laundry basket, praying it’ll magically clean itself. The hard truth is that it won’t magically become manageable, but it’s still okay to close your eyes, exhale, and contemplate your personal definition of desire. Stop taking into account the feelings of others when doing this: determine what you wish you could be, apart from any social influences.
CANCER: The smoke alarm has been ringing for days and you haven’t bothered yet to turn it off. There’s something incredibly intimidating about confronting your noisiest problems, and lately your solution to this has consisted of hiding under the covers with tattered photo albums and headphones. I’m not saying that you have to immediately tackle every issue that wanders into your life, but a plan of action is always a good thing to have. Set manageable goals for yourself and try your best to stick to them. I promise, progress will make you feel better.
LEO: So, another person let you down and you’re busy feeling sorry for yourself. You’ve fallen in love with how tragic your reflection becomes once you’ve cried every night for a week straight. Adopting unhealthy habits has become a game, like how quickly can you ruin your life before anybody asks how you’re doing. Maybe there’s something thrilling about being reckless, but trust me when I say that there’s nothing exciting about actively wrecking your chances for happiness. Allow yourself to heal. Stop punishing yourself for being alive.
VIRGO: Your to-do lists are all written in permanent ink which says a lot about how confident you are in your ability to get things done; this is to say that your list keeps growing at an incredible rate and you’re angry that you can’t keep up with it. It’s easy to blame it on your situation, and that definitely pulls some weight. But I think that a lot of this overactivity stems back to you and the way you hold yourself back whenever you get close to something you could love. Buy some pencils. Prioritize. Stop pretending that you need to save the world.
LIBRA: Spring cleaning has been over for months now but that doesn’t mean you can’t start a little later than usual this year. There are so many dust-covered boxes surrounding your bed that it’s making your allergies worse than ever before; you can’t remember the last time you slept through the night without waking up in a coughing fit because of what you refuse to throw out. I think you need to acknowledge that things are always going to be changing, both the good and the bad, despite how much you dig your heels into the ground. It won’t ever be the same. And that’s okay.
This occurred to me and I feel it’s worth posting since I’ve never seen any talk on this?
The One Ring doesn’t make you invisible.
Why would it? Seriously, what purpose on Eru’s green earth does that serve? Sauron forging his ring of power in the heart of a volcano, thinking to himself, ah yes, invisibility would be a good trick to build into this thing! No. Cause you know what? Sauron’s ring does not make him invisible. And he certainly did not intend for anyone else to ever have it. So what’s it really doing?
Two words: Dimensional shift.
I believe that when mortals put on the ring, they experience a dimensional shift in which they are pulled (stretched, transported) into a higher dimension, the plane on which the true spirit forms of the Ainur (and wraiths) exist. This would effectively render them invisible to those on lower dimensions, but the wearer would be able to view them with altered enhanced perception. Such as the effects we witness as described by those who have worn the ring. Especially well portrayed in the films is the ability to see the souls of others, particularly the ringwraiths (the battle on Weathertop is a good example, as well as even in Battle of the Five Armies when Bilbo is in Dale), black and white shadowy souls clear as day but invisible to the naked eye, as they exist on a different dimensional plane. It’s quite possible to me that the
ëalar of the Ainur are in a higher dimension than that of mortal
fëar, but that’s beside the point. They’re at least a couple dimensions removed from our reality, and thus invisible until one puts on the ring.
Now, why would the ring have this power? I think, if I recall correctly, that Tolkien at one point did state that it was not intentional, that it was a byproduct of its making. Again, it does not turn Sauron invisible - it wouldn’t, he already exists on that plane. Mortals are bound to their bodies and so would not be able to perceive that higher dimension, but Ainur are not. I think most plausibly, this effect exists because Sauron infused a piece of his own soul into the one ring. The consequences of this are not well understood (it’s not like it’s a common practice) and we know in other ways, it is so strong in its desire to hearken back to its master, it can even influence the wills - a product of the souls - of those around it. I would not be surprised in the slightest if having a piece of Ainur
in an all-powerful object would result in the ability to bend reality to attempt to match the wearer to the properties of the owner. It would bring the wearer closer to Sauron, and allow him to perceive them, thus furthering its purpose to return to the whole from which it is a part.
Just a theory, obviously, but I find it odd that I’ve never seen anyone question the rather absurd notion of ‘magic evil ring makes you invisible!’ Tolkien set up so many intriguing questions, concepts, and possibilities with underlying scientific principles - or at least, consistent rules - that I am sure this fits into his framework.
I don’t know how many people know about this particular TAZ Theory but I discovered it last night in the TAZ Subreddit. There are thread discussions about this here and here. There could be more but these were the two I found.
In summary, the theory in general pertains to the fact that Angus might not be all that he seems, and that he might be a dragon in disguise. Specifically a Silver Dragon. Under the cut because this came out really long! (Don’t worry there’s a tldr at the bottom)
A Definitely Incomplete List Of My Favorite Moments From The Lightning Thief (book), because I'm having Feelings
Percy very causally mentioning times he accidentally hit a school bus with a canon or dropped fifth graders into shark-infested water
Just everything he’s ever done
Percy running an illegal candy ring out of his dorm room
“I was worried they found out I got my essay on Tom Sawyer from the internet and were going to take away my grade. Or worse, they were going to make me read the book.”
When Percy thought Grover was going to give him some deep, meaningful commentary on life to make him feel better but Grover just wanted Percy’s lunch
Percy tried so hard to do well on his Latin final and Chiron somehow thinks it’s a good idea to tell him he’s ‘not normal’ in front of the class my poor boy
That one part where Percy essentially went “Oh hey mom’s home!!! Better reschedule this panic attack I was having!!”
When Percy did that weird hand sign (that was never explained) and the door slammed on Gabe so hard he flew up the steps
The fact that when Grover finally tracked Percy down he wasn’t wearing any pants. Like, there was literally no reason for him to not have the fake feet and the jeans on. No actual reason for him to be free balling it. Percy just needed a shock apparently. Showing up in the middle of a hurricane with no pants, dramatic ass satyr I love him.
The SATISFYING DEATH of Gabe’s Camaro + Sally apparently learned bullfighting just in case because she truly is the best mom
Percy killing the minotaur with its own horn
Percy dragging Grover over the camp line while crying for his mom literally end me
“You drool when you sleep.” could we get more iconic here
Percy teasing Annabeth about her crush on Luke
When Luke stole some toiletries for Percy and he got a little choked up because it was apparently the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him
The fact that Chiron basically told Annabeth that Percy was her destiny
The fact that a recovering alcoholic god of wine who hates children was deemed fit to run a camp for children
Not so fun: Percy, upon meeting Mr. D, immediately recognizing the signs of an alcoholic and going out of his way to sit far away from him ‘just in case’
The fact that everyone just expected him to hear ‘the greek gods are real’ and move on?? why would no one let this boy be in shock omg
Zeus apparently had a thing for the fluffy 80′s hairstyles
“the real world is where the monsters are”
The fact that Poseidon could have claimed Percy at literally any moment but he apparently decided he really needed that dramatic reveal during capture the flag.
When Zeus was feeling Extra Dramatic™ after Percy’s claiming so he started making it rain inside the camp boarders and everyone was lowkey freaking out
When Annabeth pulls off her invisible cap and declares she’s going on the quest with him and Percy was like, beyond unsurprised that she was there and didn’t even attempt to fight her
Chiron forgot to give Percy a sword from his father for like, an entire month.
Grover with those freaking flying shoes oh my God
Annabeth blushing literally any time Luke talks to her
IN THIS HOUSE WE LOVE AND RESPECT ARGUS, HEAD OF CAMP SECURITY
lmao when Percy and Annabeth start bickering about something and Argus just winks at Percy because he knows
When they were playing hackey sack with an apple but it got too close to Grover’s mouth and he just ate the whole thing
The entire bus scene oh my God
“I was about to become the ADHD Poster Child of the Year” as he’s CRASHING A BUS
Annabeth on a fury’s back
the explosion. just. all gr8.
When Grover tries to play a path finder song and Percy just immediately slams into a tree. Also the fact that the path finder song was actually just a Hillary Duff number.
“You two are giving me a migraine, and satyr’s don’t even get migraines!”
Percy actually, truly trying to sell the story that the three of them are circus orphans who got separated from their ringleader
Grover: hey guys this place is REALLY SHADY and we need to leave
Annabeth and Percy: but f o o d
Can you imagine walking into a store and finding your dead uncle’s body on display? Like????
When Medusa revealed herself and Annabeth’s running around invisible, Percy’s swinging a sword blindly and Grover’s flying around screaming and trying to whack her with a stick: everyone here is a MESS
When Annabeth was overly annoyed with Percy after that ordeal??? Sweetheart you fell for the trick too
Name something more iconic than 12 year old Percy Jackson mailing the decapitated head of Medusa to the gods on Mt. Olympus in an act of sheer pettiness. I dare you.
When Percy was insisting on taking first watch while the others slept and Grover was basically like “hey kiddo listen to this” and played a song that immediately knocked him out so he could sleep all night
“Percy. Say hello to the poodle.”
Percy seeing all the Greek creatures from the train window
When Annabeth was dragging the boys to the St. Louis Arch and Percy’s claustrophobic ass Did Not Want To Get In That Tiny Elevator but he went anyway because he wanted Annabeth to be happy. That boy has had it bad since the start.
“I am Echidna!”
“Isn’t…isn’t that a type of anteater?”
“I HATE AUSTRALIA.”
How many times has Percy actually been poisoned throughout all the series I literally want a count
‘Lemme just, uh….jump off the fucking St. Louis Arch and hope I don’t die when I hit the water.’
There is just something very aesthetic about Percy lighting a fire in the bottom of a river
Percy’s got so much pent-up rage that he’s just immediately ready to wreck Ares upon meeting him omfg
THE THRILL RIDE O’ LOVE
Annabeth getting so worked up and flustered over going down there with Percy because it’s a love ride and Percy’s just like “you literally do not have to make this a Thing” lmao
Annabeth wouldn’t let Percy touch Aphrodite’s scarf because she didn’t want him getting infected by love magic but then…touched it herself lol
The entire sequence with the mechanical spiders and the cameras and the ride itself
Percy’s plan to get off the ride!!!! He’s so smart okay can people stop calling him stupid!!!
Grover trying to catch them both in mid-air but they‘re too heavy so the three of them just kind of slowly crash into one of those face-cut-out posters lol
Percy, turning to the camera’s broadcasting this shit on Olympus: “Show’s over! Thank You! Goodnight!”
THE FUCKING ZOO BUS
Everything about that scene omg. The animals they had to help. Trying to convince Grover of how great he is. The baby percabeth. my h e a r t
“What if it does line up like the Trojan War? Athena versus Poseidon?”
“I don’t know what my mom will do. I just know I’ll be fighting next to you.”
“Because you’re my friend, Seaweed Brain, any more stupid questions?”
Do you hear that sound? That’s me, ages 13-21(+) sobbing uncontrollably oh my God I love them so much
‘let’s just set a fucking lion loose in Las Vegas’
“I put a Blessing of the Wild on them, so they’ll safely find food and shelter wherever they go.”
“Why can’t you put on of those on us?”
“It only works on wild animals.”
“So it would only effect Percy…”
When they get to the Lotus hotel and Grover starts playing that game where the deer shoot the hunters azxjhnhdjx
Percy physically having to drag his friends out of there once he realized it was the lair of the lotus eaters
When Annabeth gave the taxi driver her lotus credit card and he started calling her “Your Highness” lmao
Every time in this book Percy comes close to uncovering a Dark Truth the people around him are just like “let’s not worry about that :) “ and my polite boy actually shuts up it’s so wild because I would just keep going lol
CRUSTY THE WATER BED SALESMAN
Listen that entire scene has lowkey always been one of my Favs and I’m not even sure why but Percy chopping his head off was g r e a t
The entrance to the Underworld is DOA Recording Studios and I love it
“We, uh…all drowned in a bathtub.”
Poor Charon just wants his Italian suits he doesn’t need all this bullshit
Grover almost getting dragged into Tartarus: not good. very bad. bad shit.
Annabeth getting emotionally attached to Cerberus in the span of 3 minutes: RELATABLE
‘huh my backpack that I thought I got rid of five days ago is getting weirdly heavy, that’s not suspicious though, right?’
When Hades just starts monologue-ing about all the shit he has to put up with
“what kind of awful things do you have to do to get sewn into Hades underwear?” p e r c y
when Percy realizes the Master Bolt is in his backpack and he’s just like. tell me why. why. I’m a good person. what did I DO.
When Percy has to sacrifice his mom to get Annabeth and Grover out of there I Cri Evey Tiem
My cute lil’ baby yelling around on a beach to get Ares to show up
ahdbsjznx when Grover gives Percy a crushed, half eaten tin can for good like and Percy is just like “Grover…I don’t know what to say.” I LOVE HIM
My sweet son kicking the god of war’s ass. bless. blessed on this day.
The news crews who suddenly started backtracking and writing Percy as a hero
Percy, choking back tears, giving Gabe’s store’s phone number out on national television and promising everyone free appliances IM STILL CACKLING I LOVE THIS BOY SO MUCH HE’S ICONIC
Hades actually releasing Sally because he’s Not As Big Of A Dick As He Could Have Been
Percy: hey I think there’s a really good chance that Kronos was behind this whole mess-
Zeus and Poseidon: XXX KRONOS DO NOT INTERACT XXX
Poseidon rolling his eyes at literally everything Zeus says and does
Poseidon and Percy’s whole talk omg my sweet boy just wants his dad to love him and Poseidon’s trying to figure out how to show affection when he basically signed this kid’s death sentence I’m crying
A man will never satisfy me as much or in the same way as Sally Jackson murdering Gabe Ugliano did
Percy was spending months of summer stressing over who the friend that’s supposed to betray him was but like…Sweetie you had exactly three (3) friends and you knew two of them weren’t gonna hurt you
ahbdjsnx when Percy and Luke were having their conversation in the woods and like Luke’s acting shady af the whole time but it’s literally not until he litters that Percy is like “something…is Wrong.” this boy I s2g
Percy getting bit by a scorpion is Not A Favorite Moment but the nymphs helping him out was
Percy making his Official Decision to go home for the school year only after Annabeth reveals that he actually did talk her into trying again with her family
I didn’t mean to write out a summary of the whole damn book it’s six am listen I’m just feeling nostalgia for the original series in this chili’s tonight
Draco had known it would start then, of course. That part was normal. The clock was supposed to manifest as a tattoo on his skin, and begin its countdown to the moment Draco would meet his Soulmate. He’d been looking forward to the clock’s appearance all year— desperate for anything that might take his mind off his hopeless situation. Draco was exhausted, the damned cabinet was never going to be fixed, and his whole family was probably going to die as punishment.
And Draco had been prepared to die with them, resigned to the fact that his countdown tattoo might not appear at all, or might be stuck at 00:00:00:00:00:00 right from the beginning.
Draco had not, however, been prepared for the clock to appear at midnight and begin counting down from a mere one minute and seventeen seconds. His heart jumped in his chest. Clearly Draco was one of those rare wizards who had already met their Soulmate, but hadn’t known yet because he wasn’t of age at the time. Which didn’t help Draco in the slightest, as he could think of precisely nobody at Hogwarts who he might like to spend the rest of his life with.
He stood up from the stool he’d set in front of the hopeless cabinet, grabbed his wand, and began making his way to the door of the Room of Hidden Things. Between the time he’d spent staring at his countdown in disbelief, the time it took to reach the door, and the few seconds he devoted to not panicking, the clock reached zero at the very moment he pushed open the door.
86: “Perhaps you’ll take me out one day — or do I have to make an appointment?” (I combined this with a prompt from foxpaws10 from ages ago based on this post, and I kind of warped both of your prompts i hope this is still okaaay basically it’s doctor andrew and that’s all u need to know)
His morning is a string of disasters that begins with covering the ER in the Sunday rush of hypochondriac elderly and fussy children. It’s one long stretch of kicked over paint buckets, a mess you can’t ignore, splattering the walls and getting on his shoes.
Andrew chose surgery almost entirely for the distance of it, the sterility of a room with a slab of meat, a tray of knives, and a sickness he can actually cut out.
He’s a doctor because he can be, and patients sometimes like that he doesn’t speak a word to them, like silence equals genius.
He likes that there are some patients that come into the ER unconscious and leave the OR unconscious, and all he has is a problem and a ticking clock. He always solves the problem. He thinks maybe it’s because he is one.
The sinking ship of his Sunday in the emergency room goes from slippery to debilitating with one patient.
Two showy ER doctors with their lab coats off and their sleeves rolled up go into the private room they’ve cordoned off, and they both come out looking pinched in the face with their stethoscopes clenched in their fists.
“He’s a fucking disaster,” one of them says, leaning up against the information desk with his eyes still pulling back to the closed door of the room.
“I know. I thought, I dunno. That the news was exaggerating.”
Andrew tilts his head and listens without making any move to leave his post, filling out inane charts as illegibly as he can.
One of the residents chances a look at him and Andrew makes a point of catching him. The guy startles, then juts his chin.
“Maybe you’ll get along with him, Minyard. He’s as crazy as you.”
“You’ve mistaken the hospital for a playground,” Andrew says mildly. “Give me his chart.”
He looks at his friend, mouth slack, and then the one holding the chart holds it out like a dirty rag.
“He’s Boston’s starting striker,” he stage whispers. Andrew takes the clipboard and ignores him, scanning the details. “We’re not supposed to let any patients know.”
“That Neil Josten is causing a scene ten feet away from them?” he says, and the men titter uncomfortably. “Why should he get the luxury of privacy?”
“How did you—“
“The news is available to everyone, Bryant, you fuck.” He rounds the desk and makes for the closed and shuttered room, dropping the chart in the receptacle outside.
“He shouldn’t be allowed to practice,” someone says behind him, and then someone else, softer, scornful: “surgeons”.
Andrew wrings the door knob and finds himself abruptly face to face with the singular most swollen person he’s ever seen. He’s obviously bolting for it, his gown gaping at the neck and someone’s stolen shoes jammed on. Andrew scans the defiant face, the shock of red hair, the near invisible trail of blood from an incorrectly removed IV.
Andrew watches Neil Josten— and it is him, one of the handful of strikers on Boston’s team and certainly the most newsworthy — size him up. His eyes run the same circuit Andrew’s would if he were looking to fight his way out: door, threat, surreptitiously behind him for a weapon, back again.
“I’ll drug you,” Andrew says simply. Neil’s good eye, the one that isn’t purpling, goes narrow.
what can you say
about making Simon a shadowhunter, Mrs Clare? it seemed odd to me that after a
whole series of battling for equality between species/races, the downworlder
had to become a shadowhunter. not only he basically ceased being a minority, he
also became a part of a privileged community, and it just didn’t sit well with
Just for the record — I’m not Mrs. Clare; there is no Mr. Clare.
I am married, but my pen name is not my husband’s property. :-)
I think this is a very interesting question that brings up a ton
of issues, but there are some aspects of it I’d love to clarify — for instance,
I am puzzled at calling Simon “the Downworlder.” Is he more a Downworlder than
Magnus? Things like that actually are really important when discussing stories — if he were the only Downworlder in the story, that would be one discussion, but he isn’t, and therefore his story does not speak for the experience of all Downworlders or even a small fraction.
I am sorry you were surprised negatively by Simon’s story in
TMI. Simon never wanted to be a vampire — he always hated it, and unlike
Raphael and Lily, he never joined the community of vampires but instead spent all his time with Shadowhunters. Being a Daylighter
had already changed him from being any kind of regular Downworlder, as did
bearing the Mark of Cain: both made him even less “the Downworlder” and more of an anomaly. It also separated
him from the other Downworlders, who treated him with distrust. In my
experience, very few readers expected Simon to remain a vampire, given that it
was something he never wanted or got used to, and that it was not his dream.
More on that in a bit.
As to the question, to me the suggestion that Shadowhunters are
“the privileged” and Dowworlders are as a block “the marginalized” — instead of
being a complicated metaphor in which they sometimes but not
always stand in for people who have had their rights curtailed — overly simplifies the situation. It is an argument seems to ignore the fact that in fact, humans exist along axes of privilege and marginalization: that people can be privileged in one way and marginalized in another and that when Simon becomes first a Downworlder and then a mundane and then a Shadowhunter, he is not moving clearly from marginalization to privilege, but rather exchanging some types of privilege for others (he remains white as a Downworlder, and is a Daylighter), and exchanging some types of marginalization for others (the marginalization of being a Downworlder for the marginalization of being a mundane-born Shadowhunter and a Jew in a world where Shadowhunters are meant to have one religion).
Because the argument disclaims spectrums of privilege and marginalization, it also suggests that the world of the Shadowhunter Chronicles
is one in which there are no gay or POC or trans people in existence; one in
which there is no racism, homophobia, ableism, cis privilege,
or bigotry against the neuroatypical. But that is both problematic erasure, and also not true of these
books. Downworlders don’t stand in for people of color or
LGBTQ+ people because people of color and LGBTQ+ people are in the books; they have not
been subsumed into metaphor. (I know the showrunners said there was no
homophobia in the Shadowhunter world, only warlock-phobia, but that’s the show,
not the books, and it has a different world and world-building. I notice this
is a question I get since the show came out, and I sometimes wonder if it’s a
question of confusion between the two different universes? It’s easy for that to
Fantasy prejudice metaphors are complex and confusing and they
rarely work as a one to one comparison (in other words, there is a difference
between saying that this fantasy
situation is reminiscent of this real world thing and saying this fantasy situation is exactly the same
as this real world thing. For instance, one of the really interesting
things about True Blood is that it made many deliberate parallels between
“vampire rights” and GLBT+ rights — referring to vampires “coming out of the
coffin” and “God Hates Fangs” on church signs. However, its vampires were also often
violent predators who killed and ate people. The argument that Simon “basically ceased being a minority” (while,
somehow, remaining Jewish) is similar
to making an argument that True Blood was saying that gay people kill and eat
their neighbors; I’m fairly sure in fact, they weren’t. They were reaching for
a resonance — the echo of a real world situation that would give a layer of
relatability and meaning to their points about difference. But they were not
creating a literal “these things are the same” comparison or they wouldn’t have
had vampires chewing off people’s heads.
So: are Downworlders discriminated against? Yes, sometimes, by
Shadowhunters, who are a small specific group. Do they “stand in” for a
specific minority group? No, they cannot, because they are accessible as a
metaphor to any marginalized group or groups whose rights have been abridged.
Also: the world at large does not discriminate against Downworlders because
they do not know they exist, nor do they privilege Shadowhunters because they
don’t know they exist either. It would be one thing if this was a high fantasy
and Shadowhunters and Downworlders were all there was, but these books are set
in our world, and the characters experience real-world bigotry, racism,
homophobia etc. because of it.
Alec sighed. “Sorry to
wreck your vision of our happy family. I know you want to think Dad’s fine with
me being gay, but he’s not.”
“But if you don’t
tell me when people say things like that to you, or do things to hurt
you, then how can I help you?” Simon could feel Isabelle’s agitation vibrating
through her body. “How can I—”
“Iz,” Alec said
tiredly. “It’s not like it’s one big bad thing. It’s a lot of little invisible
things. When Magnus and I were traveling, and I’d call from the road, Dad never
asked how he was. When I get up to talk in Clave meetings, no one listens, and
I don’t know if that’s because I’m young or if it’s because of something else.
I saw Mom talking to a friend about her grandchildren and the second I walked
into the room they shut up. Irina Cartwright told me it was a pity no one would
ever inherit my blue eyes now.” He shrugged and looked toward Magnus, who took
a hand off the wheel for a moment to place it on Alec’s. “It’s not like a stab
wound you can protect me from. It’s a million little paper cuts every day.”
“He hurt you. It was a
long time ago, and I know he tried to make up for it, but—” Bat shrugged.
“Maybe I’m not so forgiving.”
Maia exhaled. “Maybe
I’m not either,” she said. “The town I grew up in, all these spoiled thin rich
white girls, they made me feel like crap because I didn’t look like them. When
I was six, my mom tried to throw me a Barbie-themed birthday party. They make a
black Barbie, you know, but they don’t make any of the stuff that goes with
her—party supplies and cake toppers and all that. So we had a party for me with
a blonde doll as the theme, and all these blonde girls came, and they all
giggled at me behind their hands.”
If we carry the theory through (Shadowhunters
are THE privileged, Downworlders are THE marginalized) that means that Alec, as
a gay Shadowhunter, is more privileged than Simon, a straight vampire. That Ty,
who would be locked in a mental institution if the Clave
discovered his autism, is privileged beyond white, rich, immortal and powerful
Malcolm Fade. It’s saying that when Cristina encounters a wealthy, white,
straight, misogynist male werewolf in Lady Midnight who tries to
force sexual attention on her, she, a Latina woman, is the one
who is the privileged character because she is a Shadowhunter and he is a
Downworlder (though Sterling has arguably, given that he lives outside the
supernatural world, never experienced a whit of prejudice because of it.) So I’m sure you can see where the problem lies.
It also erases Simon’s Judaism entirely. Stating
without caveat that Simon has become “part of a privileged community” means
ignoring the fact that Simon is Jewish; that he decides in Tales that he will
continue to practice, and that he was the only Jewish protag written by two
Jewish authors that I’m aware of having been on the bestseller lists last year.
He didn’t think about being a
vampire as he was preparing to transform — he never wanted to be one or
consented to be one, nor was he part of the community, as Raphael constantly
pointed out — though he does later think of having previously been a Downworlder
when interacting with vampires and Shadowhunter prejudices. He thought of the
important thing to him: his Judaism, which he both couldn’t and wouldn’t give
up. To me it is personally painful to think that for any reader, Simon’s status
as a vampire is more significant than his status as a practicing Jew.
I think sometimes it is possible to invest yourself so heavily
in a metaphor that you forget the real world that surrounds the metaphor and
the flexibility of metaphors in general. The Shadowhunter/Downworlder situation
could stand in for the systemically privileged
and marginalized of our world: sometimes it does. However it also can stand in
for the way totalitarian governments abuse their own people: there are echoes
in Shadowhunter history and current events of the Cambodian genocide, of
Stalinist violence against intellectuals and resistors. There are also echoes
of police brutality — what Shadowhunters have is the privilege of the Law, specifically: the Law is what allows them
to enact bigotry in the name of justice, and when they abuse their jobs, it has
resonances of the way police can abuse their jobs and use the privilege
conferred on them by their authority to murder and abuse the helpless and
marginalized. There are also echoes of the way soldiers carry out immoral
orders given by superiors: the Shadowhunters are taught to be obedient to the
Clave, and one of the ways we know who our Team Good is in any TSC series that
they question that obedience. All of these are echoes and resonances: they are
not saying that the Shadowhunters are
the police, or the US military, or the Khmer Rouge; the resonances provide
context and hopefully add a sense of realism to a situation that is fantastical
in its nature.
(It’s also a wise idea not to so totally buy what the
Shadowhunters are selling about themselves. They think they’re special and
better and awesome, but the books constantly question and problematize that.
Shadowhunters also pay a high high price for their runes and their sense of
superiority: they die young and often and experience brutal constant violence
and the pressures of a repressive society that allows for little divergence
from an idealized norm.)
There are reasons that the Downworlders were never constructed
to be a specific marginalized group and their situation was never meant to be
limited in its relatability to one situation— for instance, it’s very hard to
not look askance at the argument that Downworlders are meant to be specific “race”
when you can become a Downworlder and then stop being one: when you can, as
Simon does, change what kind of magical creature you are, because there is
absolutely no correlation between that and what race or ethnicity means in our
So yes, Simon becomes a Shadowhunter: however, what I don’t see
acknowledged here is not just his ethnicity and religion, but the fact that he
becomes a Shadowhunter partly because he is aware of the
prejudice of Shadowhunters, and fights against the bigotry they show not just
to Downworlders but also to their own. He is part of Magnus and Alec’s
Shadowhunter-Downworlder Alliance. He continues to work for change from within the
system, arguably something almost no one else could do, because there are
almost no other Downworlders who have become Shadowhunters. It is odd to me to
consider Simon as simply ascending to a height of blithe privilege when he is
fact much more like someone who has become a police officer in order to root
out corruption and racism in the police, and brings his own knowledge of
marginalization (which he still experiences) with him.
That is why Simon in Tales
from the ShadowhunterAcademy is
constantly fighting and bending the rules in the name of his evolving social
conscience, though I understand if you haven’t read TfTSA. One of the things
about having had a flood of new readers enter fandom because of the TV show is
that I’ve seen a lot of arguments based on the idea that TMI is the entire
story of Downworlders and Shadowhunters, or the entire story of these
characters. I see people talking about characters getting a happy or sad ending
in TMI even when those characters go on to feature heavily in the sequel books
and could by no reasonable account be considered to have any ending, happy or
sad — unless you thought TMI were the only Shadowhunters books that existed
rather than a chunk of a larger ongoing mythology. In no sense has Simon’s
story ended: you have no idea if he will remain a Shadowhunter or not. Perhaps
if you consider the fact that TMI is not a story that has ended for Simon, but
rather one that continues, the fact that he has now been two magical species
and might well move on to become another will sit less poorly with you? After
all, this is not “after a whole series of
battling for equality between species/races” this is “in the middle of a whole series of battling for equality between
species/races.” Usually the middle of a story isn’t the place it’s best to
draw all your conclusions from. :-)
If all of the similar names and phrases that float around witchcraft posts confuse you as much as they have confused me in the past, I submit to you my personal method for understanding the difference between everything:
Disclaimer: I am a solitary eclectic witch with a highly personal craft, and the definitions that follow are my own personal understandings of each word or phrase.
Magic is the energy that vibrates between everything. It is the primary energy that witches use to perform magick.
Magick is the transmuted energy that witches send out when they are performing magick.
Performing magick is the act of using invisible energies and forces to alter the world as you wish to alter it.
Witchcraft is learning to use magic (and other energies and forces that you are familiar with) to perform magick, and then actually performing magick with a personal flair.
Practicing magick or witchcraft is the act of having it become an integral and embedded aspect of your life.
Spellcraft is learning how to properly use a spell or type of spell for your own personal craft, and then actually using the spell to perform magick.
Spells are usually the main method that witches use to perform magick. Spells can be viewed as magick enhancers or carriers. I view a spell as being a way to organize the magick being performed so that it is more concentrated and focused when it is sent out.
A type of witchcraft is any sort of witchcraft that has some overarching connection.
A path of witchcraft is any type of witchcraft that operates under a set theme.
A way of witchcraft is any type of witchcraft that operates under a set of rules.
To cleanse something is to remove all negative energies from it.
To purify something is to convert its existing energies into its original pure form.
To charge something is to feed it with energy that may or may not have been imbued with a specific essence and intent. You can charge it with unused magic.
To enchant something is to magickally give it a specific task.
To place a glamour is to magickally affect how something is viewed.
To charm something is to magickally cause it to attract or repel something.
A charm can either be a spell to charm something, or a charmed object, depending on the context that the phrase is used in.
An amulet is an object (often charmed) object that is meant to repel evil, bad energy, or anything negative.
A talisman is an object (often charmed) that is meant to draw power. Talismans are usually connected to the other realms.
That is all that I have at the moment, but I will add more or create a Part II once my understanding of other similar terms grows a little bit. In the mean time, you are welcome to use these definitions if they work for you. I hope that y’all like it! ^_^
is having a ginormous fat peen a deal breaker for you? yano cuz u short
Anonymous looked up at the sky, not trusting the colour smeared upon the horizon. Horizons could be misleading, they knew. Horizons could convince you it was still daylight, even when the whole of the sky arced above you in a sprawl of midnight. Looking forward was not always enough. Sometimes, you had to look up.
Directly above Anonymous, the moon cut its teeth into the clouds, drawing blood and bruising the darkness with its waxen light, waning at the edges. It was time.
They did not have long. The witch had told them, as she reluctantly handed them the bag of herbs, that the spell would only be useful for the minute or so that the moon was at its highest. The minute was upon them.
Fifty five seconds left.
Cursing themself for having lost track of time, Anonymous reached into their trouser pocket and pulled out the little drawstring bag. With hands shaking in anticipation, they emptied the contents into the small well they’d dug into the earth all those hours ago, and covered it back over with dirt. Fingers crossed behind their back, they stepped away and waited.
It did not happen immediately. Magic takes time, the witch had said. Magic does not come to you when you ask for it; it comes to you when it’s good and ready. You can cast all the spells you like, scatter all the herbs and make all the offerings, but magic cannot be summoned - only tempted.
The seconds ticked by, and Anonymous waited.
This had been a long time coming, they reflected. They had waited too long for the taste of power on their lips. They had been too long distant from how it felt to be in control. They had learnt too early their place in the world, and they had too soon come to rue it. The chasm between want and have had grown inexorably bigger since the day they were born, and now they were here.
The mound of earth did not move. Anonymous thought about the time they had first felt insignificant - the first time they had realised that they stood small in the face of all things - and counted the seconds.
With ten seconds left before the spell died, the magic came.
Magic has no face, has no body. It takes no form and it holds no weight. The witch had told Anonymous this herself. Magic simply is; it is because no other word will do, but it is not. It cannot be, and has never been, and yet it is.
When Anonymous thought about it, it was all rather complicated.
Best, then, not to think at all. Best to give voice to thought and make it speech.
Anonymous cleared their throat and began.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I summoned you here - ”
I was not summoned.
They flushed, the soundless sound surprising them even though they had been expecting it. Do not fear the voiceless voice, the witch had warned. It speaks, and is silent. The words are only half your own.
Breathing slowly, they tried again.
“No, of course not. Sorry. I’m not - I haven’t used magic before.”
And you still have not. I am not here to be used. Say what you would have, and I will do the same. This is not a service. This is a trade.
“Right. Yes. Sorry.” They inhaled, exhaled. This was the only chance they would have to resolve the conflict that had been the shape of all their life. This was the resolution of aporia; of feeling as though they deserved everything, yet having nothing. Of knowing that they should be free, but being everywhere in chains. Of wanting, and of not having. “I want to feel powerful.”
In what sense? Power is not all-encompassing. The queen ant is powerful to the workers, but weak to the heel of the boot. What power would you hold? Do you seek to command nations, or to master the arts, or to take another as your own?
Anonymous considered how best to formulate their response before replying. Precision was key here. The witch had made it clear that magic would grant you what you asked, whether or not it was exactly what you wanted.
“I’m tired of being silent,” they said eventually. “I’m tired of being unable to say whatever I want. I’m sick to the teeth of thinking all these thoughts - great thoughts, too; thoughts that could topple cities and part seas - and being forced to keep them to myself, all because other people think that their own feelings are more important. Well, what of my feelings? What of feeling inadequate? What of the weight of being told to keep silent? Do they know what that does to a person?”
As they spoke, they could feel their heartbeat rise, pumping and roaring in their ears, in their veins. “Sorry,” they added. “I’m getting carried away. But to answer your question - I want to have the power to speak my mind.”
In all things?
They contemplated it. “Yes. In all things.”
The silence was real for a few moments before it became illusion.
I can help you.
“And will you?”
Yes. It will require exchange, however.
At these words, Anonymous could hardly contain their excitement. “Anything. I’ll give you anything.” They took their purse out from their other pocket, and held it out towards the mound. “I have money. I have a house, too, but that’s back in town. You mightn’t like it there. My neighbours - ”
I would have your face.
Anonymous faltered. “My what?”
Your face. That is my offer. I will give you unlimited and unprecedented power to speak your mind. All thoughts you have will be given voice, and you will never again be forced to turn away from speaking aloud what you have always been taught to keep silent. In return for this extraordinary power, I would take from you your face, and in so doing I would give myself form and body. You would never again be silent; I would never again be invisible.
“But wouldn’t I suffer without a face? How would anyone know that it was me who was speaking?” Anonymous asked, wringing their hands around their purse.
I have named my payment. Now I would name my price. The price of this power is thus: the knowledge that all thoughts you give voice to will be dampened by your lack of face. That everything you ever say to another will be tempered by your lack of identity. That no-one will again know whose thoughts you speak; only that you do speak, and in all things.
There was nothing for it. They would have to decline. They could not accept these terms. What power came at such a price, after all? What king had ever ruled his country with no name or face? What lover had ever made another theirs with no identity?
All the times they had been asked to hold their tongue; all the times they had been scolded for speaking their mind; all the times they had uttered the wrong words at the wrong time and had suffered for it: all this had been for nothing.
Although, Anonymous admitted to themself, the thought did appeal on one front, and one front alone. It was undeniable that a certain freedom was gained by completely giving up one’s identity. After all, who could be held accountable for a deed when the deed was done by one with neither name nor face? Who would they scold when the words that were given were not the words that were wanted? Who would suffer when the things said were not things that people wanted to hear?
Only those who heard them, of course, and not the one who spoke them.
And immediately, ashamedly, wonderfully, the decision was already made, had perhaps been made years ago.
“It’s a deal.”
You agree to the payment and price?
“I do. Take my face, and give me the power I seek.”
The deal is struck.
And then the moon, which had begun to falter at its peak, was suddenly once more at its highest. The minutes had been returned.
Hand trembling, Anonymous reached up to touch their face, only to find that, of course, there was no face. Where their image had been - the folds of their mouth, the curve of their nose - was now smooth and featureless. There was nothing there at all.
“Are you happy?” came a voice from behind them.
Anonymous whirled around, and came face to face with their own face, worn by another. “Who are you?” they asked, and a thrill chased up their spine at the realisation that there was no fear behind these words at all. Their voice did not falter. The question was biting, crystalline.
“I am Magic,” replied the impostor, “given form by our deal. Is it to your satisfaction?” It cocked its head inquisitively, Anonymous’ old eyes seeking validation in their new setting, and Anonymous felt powerful. They were looking at their old self - their weaker, voiceless self - and they were free.
Anonymous drew a deep breath in before responding. “is having a ginormous fat peen a deal breaker for you?” they asked.
Magic blinked. “I don’t understand.”
“yano,” continued Anonymous, “cuz u short.”
“Why are you saying that?” asked Magic, eyes darting left to right in placid uncertainty. “I don’t understand. I gave you what you wanted. You could say anything you wanted, and no-one would ever hold you accountable. You could take a lover with intricately crafted sonnets, bend ears with your scintillating rhetoric, and yet you choose - ”
“is having a ginormous fat peen a deal breaker for you? yano cuz u short,” interjected Anonymous, feeling giddy and drunk with power.
Magic blinked again. “You have the choice of a thousand languages, billions of words - ”
“is having a ginormous fat peen - ”
“Sometimes,” Magic interrupted, “silence is the more powerful weapon after all. I could undo what I have done, but I think it best not to bother. Some people will never learn. I wish you luck with all things, and may you one day find your power useful, for it will not aid you in the pursuit you have chosen.”
With that, Magic was gone, and Anonymous’ face was lost to them forever. Now alone, Anonymous looked gleefully at the small mound of earth that had been their salvation. They thought of all the things they would say tomorrow, and they smiled.
At least, they would have smiled, had they been able.
Far away, Magic rolled its new eyes, and decided to write a sonnet.
Queer Self-Presentation and Burlesque Auto-Sexuality in Yuri Plisetsky’s “Welcome to the Madness”
PHEW! It’s finally ready for ya!
Thanks to everyone for patiently waiting. I was overwhelmed with the response to my teaser post about this meta. I’m sorry it took so long to finish… I had to write the academic version for class, then rewrite it to be tumblr-appropriate (I’m still not sure that it is, constructive criticism is welcome!)
I’m hoping that this will contribute to the ongoing conversation about underage characters in fandom, and am looking forward to your asks. I’m a little nervous to be tossing my hat into the Otayuri discourse, but I hope I won’t catch too much hate.
I took out footnotes but included the bibliography at the end. If you have any questions about specific references, send me an ask or DM :)
I, I loved you in secret First sight, yeah, we love without reason Oh, 25 years old Oh, how were you to know and
First off the beginning of the song is in the past tense because she is looking back on emotions she previously experienced in the relationship not ones she’s feeling at the time of writing this
Taylor’s only relationship thats been a secret is joe in case anyone had any question who this song is about.
love without reason: when you fall in love you don’t know whyyyy you do, you just did. no reasons. you just did. And ‘first sight’ is throwing back to her sentiments expressed in Gorgeous - she felt something for him right away. Which she has unequivocally said was a song about joe.
25 years old, how were you to know - how did you know at 25 you were going to fall in love with me (joe was 25 and taylor 26 when they started dating)
My, my love had been frozen Deep blue, but you painted me golden Oh, and you held me close Oh, how was I to know what
I could’ve spent forever with your hands in my pockets Picture of your face in an invisible locket
she’s looking back at a time when he was holding her close with his hands in her back pockets. you know when a guy puts his hands in the back pockets of your jeans and you hug. she is saying she couldve stood like that with him forever. She had thought she couldnt love again, that it was dead/frozen (blue) but he brought it to life again, made it shiny and new (golden). Before the fears set in.
face in an invisible locket. She’s not wearing an actual locket w/his face in it but she is holding him and the idea of him close to her heart as if she was. (Sooo again this isnt a calvin song since that locket was actually real)
You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it I had a bad feeling
he told her there was nothing that could stop them from falling in love, their feels were so strong
She was nervous to get into a relationship and fall in love so fast - probably due to the last 2 rs she had.
And darling, you had turned my bed into a sacred oasis
People started talking, putting us through our paces I knew there was no one in the world who could take it I had a bad feeling
she may have had a bad feeling at first but he changed her mind. She thought she would never love again, that her bed was a desert (dried up, infertile, cracked). But he turned it into an oasis. An oasis is a place in the middle of a desert where there is water and fertile land. He showed her she could still love and be loved.
But then ….”people started talking putting us through our paces” is a key line. Remember she’s already said she’s loving this man in secret. Remember the plane info being spread online at halloween. About why did taylor go to london. Remember the articles about ‘where is taylor’. Remember perez posting that she’s secretly in london later in early ‘17. imagine you are taylor, a highly visible and recognizable person and you are hiding from the world but not only that, a huge secret. a relationship. Thats a big burden on both your shoulders. if people are talking about where taylor is, what is she doing, that can be nervewracking. is she going to get caught? will they get found out ? ‘putting us through the paces’ things got complicated for them.
‘knew no one in the world who could take it / i had a bad feeling’ think back to the many articles where she’s thought that no one could handle her fame or the media if they got caught. where she worried that it would get to be too much. that the media would inevitably crush what she had. She is saying that she started to worry that the same thing was going to happen again. That they were gonna get caught and the media will ruin it. AGain this cannot be tom nor calvin becasue the media was well aware of both those relationships, no secrets.
But we were dancing Dancing with our hands tied, hands tied Yeah, we were dancing Like it was the first time, first time Yeah, we were dancing Dancing with our hands tied, hands tied Yeah, we were dancing And I had a bad feeling But we were dancing
She’s still looking back at when they were scared of getting caught. They were enjoying their time together, being close. Metaphorically dancing. Enjoying the feeling of being together was great and still felt fresh and new - like your first dance is. Still exhilarating. But they were sort of prisoners to their situation. Their hands were tied. They couldnt do everything they wanted, bc they were a big secret. Their hands were tied. they couldnt go out in public freely. She was worried they were gonna get caught hence the “bad feeling” but they persevered; they were dancing. They were still enjoying themselves despite feeling like prisoners of their own situation.
This is key because she wasnt in this situation with any of her previous boyfriends, worried about getting caught.
I, I loved you in spite of Deep fears that the world would divide us So, baby, can we dance Oh, through an avalanche? And say, say that we got it I’m a mess, but I’m the mess that you wanted Oh, ‘cause it’s gravity Oh, keeping you with me
“i loved you in spite of deep fears the world would divide us” – throughout all the fears she had felt, she loved him, despite being so worried about something tearing them apart. again going back to worrying that when/if they got found out that the media and everyone would try to tear their rs apart, ruin it, force them apart, literally. She is talking about the future here. hence future tense “would”.
Can we dance through an avalanche? can we stay happy and together through a massive shitstorm? ie. our secret rs getting found out? can we say that we got this, that we’ll be okay? Can we do this?
i’m a mess but the mess you wanted - she was definitely a mess going into this rs; this goes back to what she talks about in Delicate - that he likes her for her. Mess and all. And a mess about getting found out. But she’s his beautiful mess.
cause its gravity / keeping you with me - callback to the magnetic field she refers to in Gorgeous. which again was about joe. she might be a mess, but there is something bonding them together that they can’t control. You can’t control gravity. Gravity just exists. This force was keeping "you with me”
[…] I’d kiss you as the lights went out Swaying as the room burned down I’d hold you as the water rushes in If I could dance with you again I’d kiss you as the lights went out Swaying as the room burned down I’d hold you as the water rushes in If I could dance with you again
Now Taylor is looking to the future again and switches tenses.
She’s saying…If their relationship gets ruined by the media, (this is future tense now, the “I’d” - which is impt to note) she’ll kiss him til the very end, as the lights go out (metaphor). She’ll sway with him dancing as everything burned around them and it was turned to ashes, she’s going to hold on to him. if the floods come in and people try to drown them, she would hold on to him. She doesnt want to give this relationship up if they have to face a storm, she’s gonna hold on to him through anything. if any of these disasters happened (electricity went out, avalanche, flood, fire) …she would want one more dance, one more minute, she would stay with him through any of that.
So now she has changed, she’s saying if these things happen….i’d hold you, i’d kiss you, i’d stay by your side if it means i can still dance with you again. if i can still be with you. She’s now gotten to a place in the story where she is saying she’ll be by his side, no matter what they face. She thinks they can make it through and she is saying she isnt going anywhere.
The dancing while maybe stemming from something literal, is mainly a metaphor for being together.
Characters: reader, Bucky, Nat, Clint, OC Talia. DumDum Dugan and Peter Parker mentioned.
Summary: After leaving the small town life behind, you’ve worked hard to make your dreams come true. When something unexpected brings you home, you’re brought back to the place where everything changed. Timing is everything and now there just might be a second chance with the man you left behind.
A/N: Hoo, boy, you guys. I love this part. So much fluff and answers and more questions and so many words!! I just can’t stop myself at this point. There will be more parts. Hope you don’t mind. ;) Any feedback is appreciated! I adore you all!! <3
“Y/N. Just stay. Please? It’s ridiculous for you to go out again in the storm when you’re more than welcome here. I’ll sleep on the couch, I’ve done it dozens of times on accident and I won’t hear another word about it.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but he held up a hand with a stern expression, so you relented. “Okay. I’ll stay. Thank you, Bucky.”
His face lit up when you agreed, causing that sputtering spark inside you to spread warmth from the inside out. Tearing your gaze from his, you picked up the remote and pressed play.
Hearing the actors speak your words and seeing them act out a story that once only lived in your head was still a new and bizarre sensation for you. Beginning with you sitting in a room by yourself, staring at a blinking cursor for hours on end all the way through casting, production and editing until finally it all came to life, it was a miracle. It was also strange and wonderful to see someone witness your work for the first time. You couldn’t stop yourself from observing out of the corner of your eye as Bucky watched the action on the ancient television screen before you.
You're my fav fic writer here <3 so I wanted to ask if you also take prompts that are not from the list? If yes, please please please could you write a fic in which lola kidnaps andrew along with neil to baltimore? (or he just somehow ends up there)
(i lov u thank you sm, also this prompt is fucked up I had FUN)
Neil’s face is so sunken with grief that he’s barely recognizable. Andrew watches cooly as Nicky jokes with him, the energy of the team cascading down and off of Neil, water off an indifferent umbrella. This is not the same man who was buoyant with a fresh win half an hour ago, who holds exy in higher regard than his own life, some days.
Andrew crosses to him, siphoning Neil’s attention away from the action of the room to him, just him, their eyes hooked together.
“Thank you,” Neil says, his mouth trembling. “You were amazing.”
Andrew searches his face, waiting for more. The room around them feels hazily separate, his attention is pulled to every flicker of Neil’s eyes, every shape his mouth makes. Something is giving out like a rotting support beam, Andrew can feel the collapse as if it were happening in his own body.
He catches Wymack gesturing from the corner of his eye, and the foxes fall into line. Neil keeps holding Andrew’s gaze the way someone might watch their home disappear on the horizon as they drive away.
He turns on command, though, body held too casually to be genuinely at ease, walking in tandem with the men bracketing him.
Andrew levels Wymack with a dismissive look and turns on his heel to follow Neil to the parking lot, his heartbeat out-pacing his footsteps.
He watches the bobbing heads of the man in the reflective vest and his colleague guiding the team through a simmering crowd. A bottle careens past Aaron’s head and Andrew looks blackly out in the direction it was thrown from. His eyes return to Neil, and because he’s watching, he sees the moment the crowd swells and Neil is grabbed hard by the wrist.
Andrew starts running immediately, pushing his way through a crowd that feels more like the tumultuous surface of an angry ocean. He trips over a slippery bottle and clips a 6 foot tall Bearcats fan, who tries to punch Andrew and gets his hand ripped at the seam of his fingers for his trouble. The crowd is a firing squad pointed at him, but Andrew braves it without hesitation.
He loses sight of the shiny vest and Neil’s flaming hair, almost tripping again on a duffel bag upended in the street. He kicks viciously at it before realizing it’s Neil’s, his racquet dropped two feet away. It’s like a crime scene, like the gunpowder left in the wake of a ripping bullet.
Andrew scoops the racquet up and breaks into a flat-out sprint with it held in front of him, using its length to rake the crowd out of the way. They break, more interested in self-preservation than the spirit of revenge. Andrew gets a clear view of Neil’s shoulder being wrenched around, his face contorting with anger as he’s stuffed into the back of a highway patrol car.
“Stop,” Andrew calls, voice raised. He skids into the parking lot just as the door is closing on Neil, and four sets of eyes swing towards Andrew. He sees Neil mouth ‘no’ as a woman with an unhinged grin cranes around Neil, sizing Andrew up.
Could you do 067: "I came home to a Nerf gun on the front porch and a note that says ‘Here is your weapon. I have one too. Loser cooks dinner. Good luck. xo’" from the 101 Fluffy prompts with Bucky please?
Why of course I can!!! And I am so fucking sorry this took a century and a half to post. I’m a horrible person. xxx
Home Sweet Nerf Gun
Bucky came home to see an offensively bright, neon pink and orange nerf gun on the front porch. Just laying there all innocently on the doormat (the doormat says ‘Welcome! Beware of husband, cat is shady, wife is cool though’). With a curious grin he climbs the three porch steps and halts before the gun that has a small torn piece of scratch paper perched on top of it. It reads in your familiar script: Here is your weapon, I have one too. Loser cooks dinner. Good fucking luck xo.
Bucky right out cackles when he sees your P.S - ‘p.s you should not have taught me how to snipe baby’
- Y/N’s a runner and gets attacked by a griever while in the Maze. -
Word Count : 3492
You swiped the sweat off of your forehead with the back of your hand as you stood up. Stretching your arms up towards the sky, you hummed in satisfaction as your back popped and cracked from having been crouched over for so long. You set your basket of crops downs and used the fabric of your pants to brush off the dirt on your hands before gathering your hair up into a ponytail. You winced every time your fingers got snagged in a knot. After a few minutes of combing your fingers through, you managed to secure an elastic band around it and with one last tug you picked up the heavy basket again.
It was a hot day in the Glade and the urge to just sit in the shade and lay about was strong but Alby’s words echoed in your head as if they were engraved into your brain.
Everyone had to do their job and that included you as well. You had to do your part and pull your own weight in the Glade. There wasn’t any time or patience for lazy people.
Personal log 1. I got accepted into the coalition military only as a simple deck serf my main duties are cleaning the vents of vermin that somehow make it onto the ships and breed. I also run messages, it’s good exercise but most of the officers don’t even look at me, I’ll show them I’ll make admiral in not time.
Personal Log 6. After helping engineer Lopya with the engine after being stuck in dead space for nearly a week I was promoted to bridge officer, I mainly work the coms console but it is a step in the right direction, i cant wait.
Personal Log 8. One of our explorer ships has found a new planet, this one is apparently unique and has all our scientists really excited. Not sure how it is unique because I always thought every world in the galaxy was unique but apparently this is one is special. My colleagues are talking about nothing else I might actually keep an eye on the com traffic to see what the fuss is about.
Personal Log 9. Well I read some of the com messages ( I know I’m not supposed to but curiosity got the better of me) and this new world everyone is going crazy over is apparently the only world which can truly be classified as a “Dead World” But life is not only surviving apparently its thriving. They think their might be intelligent life there, even if the air is toxic and the plant life poisonous and Maker only knows what the animal life is like. I shudder to think of what could survive there.
Personal log 13. The explorer team has gone missing, they were researching a new animal that lived in huge hives and it is believed the creatures may have discovered them. Not sure how I thought they were using this new cloaking technology that makes them invisible? Could these creatures see through it?
Personal Log 14. Workload today was insane, more com traffic than ever, our fleet is being redirected. But on the bright side if I make a good impression the captain might put me on course for deck officer level 2? I can only hope.
Personal Log 16. I’m not sure if this is good or not but our fleet has been chosen to search for that research team that went missing, why we should when we are an explorer fleet not a military fleet. I mean, we only have handful of actual soldiers on each ship, but then orders are orders.
Personal Log 17. I think I may have made a mistake, the captain wanted a coms officer to go and record to rescue and like an idiot I said I’d do it before I truly thought about it. I’m going to a “Dead world” to find people. I want to live long enough to have wife’s and spawns I don’t want to to go somewhere where i might die. Well I can’t back out now, at least Major Jesa gave me a handgun to use in case.
Personal Log 18. We landed on the planet at the researchers last known location, we found their base, it was hidden inside one of the hills over looking a herd of fluffy animals that made off “Bahhhh” sounds as they saw us. They were not hostile luckily, we assumed they were prey animals, wee went off to complete our mission. We found one of the trackers the researchers use sot hey don’t get lost, it was badly broken so the log could not be accessed, we bagged it kept on.
Personal Log 19 The nights here are cold, really cold. We set up air tight tents so we did not have to sleep in our suits and even with the heaters we were all shivering. Private Getr joked this was worse than the time he fought against some snow like monsters on a world going through an ice age. i could tell he was not joking, i hate this place.
Personal Log 20. Private Getr’s suit was split yesterday, some plant that has spikes cut his suit and he died in moments, he never had a chance to even seal the split. A pair of his comrades volunteer to take him back to the shuttle and off they go, we are three men down.
Personal Log 21. The rain, so much rain, I mean it’s not unusual for water to fall from the sky but this is just crazy, we all agree not to out today.
Personal Log 22. We saw the natives, or at least what we think are the most dominant natives here. There were three of them, small and running around in one of the fields playing I think, is that playing or were they fighting for dominance? they were quite small and talked to each other in odd clicking noises. Then the older appeared, far larger than their young, they appeared out of the trees not far from us, then one of them started sniffing the air, no way could they smell us could they? We quickly left before we were discovered. But not before we saw the Hive, it was larger than any city I have seen, how many of these creatures were there.
Personal Log 23. Finally some other sign of the research team, an tent, only one but it’s a sign. We call inside but there is no answer, we slowly make our way inside and find what we feared we would. A body, His skin was the same as privates Getr’s when his suit split, he was holding a note though all it said was. “Run!”
Personal Log 27. Well I’m glad that’s over with and i can get back to my life, that world is now off limits to everyone now and is under strict quarantine level 10. The first planet to get that level. They even named it Kila, apparently it means death in one of languages spoken in the coalition.
Personal Log 30. Since my mission to Kila I have gain more responsibility and just yesterday they are giving me my own ship!! It’s only a snall support ship with a few hundred crew but I’m excited. Captain Elfre, i like the sound of that.
Captains Log 36. I’M BORED!!!! This support ship gets almost no mission, all we do is patrol and help the larger ships move into formation, I want a bigger ship!!!! Or at least something to break the boredom.
Captains Log 38. A whole quarantine fleet went missing a couple of days ago, I instantly knew which one before i even heard the planets name, it was Kila. By the Maker have they made it off the that planet? More fleet are being directed and we are on standby if we are needed. I have a feeling we will be.
Captains Log 40. We are needed, the fleet is heading to the quarantine Kila zone.
Captains Log 41. The quarantine is breached the creatures have built ships and a lot of them, these hive ships were scanned and found our own technology on board. They are using our warp drives, did they figure out of they were built? How? Are these things sentient? We take up position to bar their path and we simply stare at each other, we send message after message to try and open a dialog but there is no response. Then over all our coms, a noise like screaming, is that Getr? Are they in my head? Only one word is truly heard. Hooman, our enemy has a name. The Admiral orders us to open fire and we unleash our weapons upon them, huge pulse cannons and missiles with enough yield to scorch a planet. Nearly all miss. How could they miss and those that hit seemed to only cause minimal damage. Wait are..their ships healing themselves? We scramble to reload and open fire again but the Hoomans fore first, we don’t recognize what kind of weapons they are using but they cut right through our armor, the flagship goes down having been hit by three separate enemy ships. The other captains are screaming orders or trying to regain some kind of control, I shout over the coms that I cam taking command and order the retreat. The war against the Hoomans, has begun.
Captains Log 50. The Hoomans are spreading and spreading fast, every engagement is the same, they break into real space, our coms go haywire and our fleet gets wiped out. We need a different strategy.
Captains Log 54. I have been given command of a new battleship, it is to be the new flagship of a invasion force into Hooman space. Our scientist have theorized that the Hoomans work on a hive mind command structure and if we wipe out the their main hive world Kila the rest will fall into chaos. I don’t know how they can know that as to my mind no Hooman has been captured alive or dead. But I am eager to go on the offensive for once.
Captains Log 55. Our first victory!!! We engaged the Hoomans on the edge of their space and wiped them out, we left the planet as we needed to save our resources for the homeworld but it felt good to drop a few nukes down there. We can do this, we can win!!
Captains Log 57. The Hoomans never seem to run out of ships, we have assembled the largest fleet in the galaxy and that has got their attention, their advance into our space has halted. I have their complete attention, and that terrifies me.
Captains Log 58. We lost half our ships in the last battle and the flagship is heavily damaged we have taken refuge in an asteroid belt to make repairs but the Hoomans are looking for us. They always know where to find us, they always know.
Captains Log 60. I can only engage the Homans one more time before I have to retreat and i am nowhere near their homeworld of Kila, they always seem to have more ships. The last engagement were boarded by them, I have seen every kind of species in the galaxy and we are all different, some are fast, some are strong, some are smart and so on. But never have I seen a race like them. They only have two arms and two legs which is the lowest number of any rce and it seems to work to their advantage. I saw on the security cameras our soldiers fight them in hand to hand and the Hoomans just danced around them. They moved like water and hit like avalanches, our new directive was never to engage them in close combat, you’d never win. Not that shooting them seems to work either, my bridge was breached by them and i shot one in the head with my pistol and it barley flinched, if it wasn’t for a guard with a blaster i would have been dead. Sadly that moment of saving my life cost him his own, he was hit my one of their weapons and his whole body evaporated. Not sure what is a worse way to die, being touched by one of these things or shot. This invasion is over, I’m ordering the retreat.
Captains Log 62. 2 months, that was all the time I bought while invading their space and once more they are on the offensive, consuming world after world and terraforming it so only they can live there. Trillions are now dead and how much further will they spread before they burn themselves out.
Captains Log 65. Our leaders are panicking, the surviving races are merging all their resources in some attempt to turn this tide. Our pleas of surrender and mercy go unanswered except for the usual response of the com screaming. But on some lighter note I go promoted to Admiral, my life long goal was achieved only because my predecessor shot himself when his homeworld was consumed by the Hoomans, his mate and youngling did not make it of world in time. They now expect me to win this war for them, I don’t know if I can but I am going to try.
Admirals Log 1, My first engagement as an Admiral with the race known as Hooman has ended in our utter defeat, we exited hyperspace right on top of them and they reacted as if they knew we were coming. Are these creatures just super fast or can they see the future? We retreated to Elixal Prime but my few remaining ships will not be enough to hold them off for long. I have already began evacuation but there are not enough ships, they will be here soon,
Admirals Log 5, Elixal Prime is lost, the moment the first of their hive ships arrived we had to abandon any hope of rescuing the population. I can only imagine what horrors they will face. We heard their screams over the com as we left.
Admirals Log 13. I have implemented a scorched earth policy, any world we cannot protect or have to retreat from is scorched to make sure they can’t use it. It will slow them at least.
Admirals Log.16 It did not stop or slow them, in fact it made terraforming the planet for themselves easier so we have abandoned that tactic.
Admirals Log 22. They are spreading faster now, faster than we can track them its like a damn has broken and their entire race is now searching for new worlds to consume. Do they eat their worlds? Is that why they are expanding? for food?
Admirals log 29 the Hoomans have conquered half the galaxy and there are too few of the surviving races with the ships to even try and stop them. Some are talking about surrender. How could we? These creatures are so deadly that even one setting foot on a planet spells disaster as if their whole body was made to house millions of viruses. My old friend was touched by one once, I’ll never forget what happened to him. His skin burned and fell off he bled form every part of his body, his screams, they still haunt me.
Admirals Log 40. Me and the other admirals have agreed that this war cannot be won, we have but one hope, all the survivors of the coalition have gathered in one system. There are only 50 billion left out of a population of thousands of trillions. But our scientists have built a war winning weapon, a huge beam cannon that can destroy fleets. It is very experimental as if uses the power oft he sun to fire. The plan is to use it to defend against the Hoomans in this system indefinitely, let them have the galaxy surely they will let us have one small system?
Admirals Log 50. I was wrong about the Hoomans letting us live here, because here they are, but there is only one hive ship just sitting there watching us. My ship is placed directly opposite it, Im sure i can take on one ship but I know, that silently out there, his friends are watching. Once more our coms go nuts, i turn it off, i have had enough of listening to the sounds of my comrades die over and over again. I open fire and before the munitions hit the Hooman hive ship turns and enters hyperspace. He’ll be back.
Admirals Log 60. The Hoomans are back and it seems they have brought their entire fleet with them, My fleet has over 5000 ships of varying classes and the new solar cannon we built. Just a little closer, i oder the cannon to fire and millions of miles behind my fleet the solar cannon unleashes the power of the sun at the Hoomans. Then…wait? No this is not possible the Hooman fleet is moving and a new kind of ship is taking the lead…it’s huge almost the size of a moon and it is moving to intercept the beam. The solar cannons beam hits the new hive ship but…it does not do what they said it would. It is supposed to destroy the ship then the beam jumps tot the nearest ship and destroys that one and so on. But the ship is…is…absorbing it? the light is dancing around the hive ship and then suddenly fires from the tip, oh no it’s heading for one of the planets! It hit the planet the solar cannon was orbiting and it erupts and breaks apart. 20 billion souls all gone in an instant. Screaming I order to open fire, all 5000 ships unleash our firepower at the Hoomans, with so many ships and so many targets it’s hard to miss. The battle last only an hour.
Admiral’s log , We’ve lost, our final stand began an hour ago, 3 thousand ships gone, in an hour!!! How could such a race even exist? I sit here reading reports of what their world is like, no wonder they turned out like they did out of all the worlds in the galaxy this one has to be the most hostile one. I’m not going down without a fight though.
Admiral Efre grabbed his rifle and locked his log in the hopes that it might be found by someone who could read it and remember the struggle the galaxy went through. Perhaps in a couple of millennia when the Hoomans have died out. The Hoomans were cutting through the door now, his soldiers all got to their feet and readied their rifles. The pride he felt for them, even in their final moments they were defiant, even though there was nothing and no one left to save.
The door blasts open and we open fire, like before the Hoomans shrug off our shots like they were pebbles, a few go down but it doesnt stop the others. The run into us and…and? They’re not killing us By the Maker they want us alive! Are they going to eat us? One grabs me with its gloved hand and forces me to my knees alongside my soldiers and another enters like the others of it’s kind inside a sealed suit. It lowers itself to look me in the eye and raising a visor to show it’s face.
They’re disgusting, their faces…the proportions are all wrong and only two eyes? How could they see so well with only two eyes? The nose is pitiful in size I can only imagine how strong it was. And the skin, it looks wet like oil, is it acid?
Finally it speaks and the words put the chill of death into me.