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#when he says I've wronged you to the chickens I about died
prince-liest · 1 month
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Ok so I know you haven't officially trans anyone's gender in any of your Hazbin fics, but I lowkey get really trans vibes from Alastor in most of your fics?
Idk, it's a little hard go explain but what really tipped me off was his... distaste? Disfavor? Aversion? To his "male body" in one of the 666 fics. (I think the line was something akin to "the male body being what it is" in reference to Alastor getting hard fairly quickly).
There's honestly a lot of interesting things to speculate in relation to how Alastor views his body. Especially with his relationship with touch, and how he initiates touch and how he actively dislikes it (depending on the person).
Not to mention his feelings regarding his non-human features. How he doesn't inherently dislike them for being what they are, or rather, that they're "abnormal", but more so that they're not what they're "supposed to be", and not "what he was before" (though I do think that his dislike of his deer features is linked to his dislike of how he died, being viewed as something so easy to be put down - an animal).
Which also relates to how dressed Alastor constantly is. How he shields away his body using clothing, a customizable thing that he takes great pride in making sure is up to his standards (notice how when his coat is damaged he immediately goes to get it fixed, even though the ends of his coat is already damaged. He seems to have very complex opinions on how, exactly, his coat is supposed to be damaged)
I do think that Alastor's preference to being so dressed is linked to his dislike of vulnerability, but I also think it's a very trans(tm) move, lol.
(And I also do think that his dislike of vulnerability is tied to his transness, kinda in a weird "chicken and egg" scenario.)
I find it really interesting how Alastor's true feelings are revealed by his shadow, a being that can transform to look different, is mostly hidden, and is internally mysterious. Idk, it's just very trans(tm) to me!
I also think that Alastor's transness is linked to how he views masculinity, how he seems to automatically like woman, while automatically disliking man. How this is also tied to his parents. I've noticed in your fics (and could be completely wrong about) that Alastor seems to relate femininity (and his mother) with "safety" (how he compares the gentle touch in your last fic with feeling like his mother and his like of jambalaya).
I'm not sure if I would say that Alastor is a trans woman, but I also wouldn't say he isn't. Overall I think he has a very complex view of gender, but it's definitely something he doesn't put a lot into. Which relates to him not knowing what asexuality is.
I have a lot more Alastor trans thoughts, but this ask is already getting pretty long so I'm just gonna cut it off here. I hope I made sense, and that you're comfortable with me speculating on a character you've written about gender. (Totally valid if you're not though! If so, then please disregard this ask!)
I'll take "asks that made me realize I'm out here accidentally writing a character as nonbinary" for 300, please! Please prepare yourself for the mistake of letting me have a keyboard and talk about gender after 9pm, so sorry to literally everybody else.
You're gonna get a real fuckin' kick out of the first bit of the next 666 that I'm gonna post tomorrow. ;) It's definitely the point where I finally acknowledged to myself that I have a strong urge to inject some genderfuckery into Alastor in the form of him continuing to use his thing with Vox to explore his own relationship with, like, existing in his own body, and then also threw those feelings all over Angel Dust like a fistful of glitter while I was at it.
Like you said, I wouldn't say that I've ended up writing him as a trans woman, but I think I have seen him from the start as a character who is not exactly cis in a wibbly-wobbly way I have not previously defined but that I think I would perhaps characterize as "gender: monster condescending to play at humanity."
I don't think he eschews masculinity entirely, for what it's worth. He definitely strikes me as a person who aligns himself with the image of a smiling gentleman (if a hellish one) as the proper way for a person like him to be, and for whom that is an important, comfortable, and satisfying part of both his identity and how he relates to both his female friends and to men. However, he also strikes me as someone for whom that part of his identity is what he shows the world on purpose, presented as he would like it to be seen, rather than as something that reflects his bodily preferences. To put it another way, if he'd been AFAB, I think he would put just as much into his presentation, just in the direction of femininity, and it wouldn't make him any more or less comfortable with himself.
You're right in that I've definitely written him with a faint distaste for the mundane physical reality of his body, and a lot of this comes through in how he alternates between short moments of fascination with what new things his body is doing as he explores it and decides whether or not he likes it, and his much longer moments of utter disregard for the same thing. It also extends to the rest of his mundane humanity, though: his physical limits, his adrenaline-rush of fear, etc. He values the coat, the cane, the reality-bending static, the smile - but whatever he sees in the mirror when he gets undressed or whatever doesn't function to his purposes, he can take or leave.
I see Alastor as someone who defines himself first and foremost as the radio demon: not a person, but a monster and an enigma. A voice and a personality. Everything else is more or less incidental, and he would prefer to keep it set aside, thank you. The occasional dysphoria isn't just about his sex, it's about the humanity of his body as a whole.
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midweastindigo · 11 months
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i have covid and watched ella enchanted for the first time in years. here's how a buddie au can still win
buck isn't a people pleaser by choice - he just doesn't know it. his parents prayed and pleaded with doctors, nurses, with gods, and witches, and the universe itself, to save their eldest son daniel. and so the universe gave them evan buckley. he was able to save daniel, but it wasn't enough. daniel buckley still died. and as curses, or gifts, or forces of good versus evil, go, they went wrong. evan buckley's purpose was to save his brother and he was unable to fulfill that purpose so the buckleys wanted to give him back. but the goddess that gave them a second son does not go back on their gifts, so a deal was struck. how dare they question the motives of a force of nature? how dare they try and return such a perfect gift? they shall keep the child, and that child will listen to them. a pink mark on his face to forever haunt the buckleys of their choices, and.
a most obedient son, indeed.
now, evan wasn't told of this gift, or curse. the only other person who even knew about it at all was his older sister of 6 years, madeline. and she was never to utter a word to her baby brother, lest she be cursed with the same misfortune, or so the buckleys say.
so, evan cannot say no. children exploited it without knowing. teachers made an example out of him. evan's second home was the emergency room.
he leaves, but it is because he is told to 'get lost!' by his father. not because he chooses to escape his prison.
evan buckley is lost when he stumbles into the fire academy, and from the ashes comes buck. and robert nash sees this. when he fires him on the rooftop, bobby finally understands. 'it's like. i don't-bobby, wait. bobby, like i couldn't say no! i've never told anyone 'no' my entire life!'
bobby knows what it sounds like. buck is cursed.
bobby knows cursed people because he is one. in fact, he prides himself in recruiting people who are cursed, whether they know it or not. buck clearly does not.
'buck,' he says. 'i think you're cursed.'
'cursed? like in fairytales?'
'yeah but in real life. i'm not going to fire you, i think you belong on this team.'
'because i'm cursed.'
'precisely. everyone here is. i'll reintroduce you, c'mon.'
and so there are the introductions.
henrietta, cursed to never be on time by her ex who was never satisfied with how much time they spent together. 'sometimes they aren't so bad. the worst was when i was late to my wedding. karen damn nearly called it off!'
howard, cursed with always having love slip right through his fingertips, just out of reach. 'the one who cursed me said it could be broken with true love's kiss. seems i haven't found it yet.'
and bobby, cursed with knowing that everyone he loves will die by his hands. 'my in-laws did not think my punishment of living every day without my family was enough.'
'and me?'
'buck, we think you're cursed to obey.'
'no, all of this is just bullshit, you can't really think-'
'stop talking.' buck stops.
chim says, 'ooh, do the chicken dance!' hen hits him over the head as buck does what he's told.
'you can talk again.'
'- i'd actually believe.....'
the team agrees to never demand anything of buck, even captain's orders are phrased like a choice. buck learns to live with his curse, and is better off for it now he knows what it is.
until abby. abby never figured it out. so when she said 'stay at my place. keep it waiting for me.' she didn't know he would. that he'd have no choice. it took the power of the whole team commanding buck to come to the station for him to leave after four days. even longer, a 'call me' written on a note for buck to stop waiting for abby to come back.
he wanted her to come back, is the thing. he knows the difference between wanting and being forced, and he wanted, hoped, begged abby to return to him. but she didn't. 'no true love's kiss to break this one, huh, chim?'
and then bobby recruits eddie diaz: cursed to never lie.
he's found ways around it, though. fought hard against the gift given to him by a distant relative that thought it would do the diaz family some good. eddie's father taught him that skewing the truth did not equate to lying. and if there was a bit of truth within, eddie could get away with only a minor headache.
or a child and a marriage he was not prepared for.
so instead of having to share all his truths, eddie runs.
and he ran straight into the 118.
bobby, now curse-free thanks to his witch of a new wife, athena, sees eddie at the academy and recruits him. not because he's cursed, though, that's a bonus. eddie is a damn good firefighter. and his curse only aids in his abilities.
his bluntness is no match for buck.
and when he says, 'you can have my back any day,' he means it. it is not forced out of eddie just because it's the truth. and there is no skewing the fact that he will trust buck with his life again. over and over.
he doesn't yet realize how deep that statement shall run. eddie, not yet knowing of buck's curse, presents him with an option. a choice. not an order.
buck wants to have his back. there is no force behind it.
'or, you know, you could have mine.'
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The Ghost King (of Miscommunication) Ch. 21
Part 1-12,Part 13,Part 14,Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20
Part 21!
So this kinda got long. I wouldn't be able to fit the explanation part without posting off of my ao3 schedule. Also the chapter would be, like, way longer than the ~2K I've been aiming for.
So! Here's this, and I'm gonna try to post the explanation-scene as a separate chapter on Thursday or Friday. (It'll probably be big on its own anyway).
Info: Self-concept upon death hugely impacts ghost form, and Sam & Tucker expected white hair bc of Danny. So by the time Jazz became a ghost (read: Died) it was just an expectation that white hair and green eyes would be a part of that.
(Danny's own palette swap is an effect of his beliefs about what happens when things burn [white to black] and bleach in heat [black to white - like the flag on the moon]. White hair being associated with stress/death, green eyes because green was all he could see, etc. Just a lot of jumbled, morbid, last-minute thoughts while he was dying combined with pre-existing, subconscious beliefs about life and death.)
Jason's form is his exact form from when he died - minus all the injuries and plus the full-white eyes (not just normal eyes behind a domino mask - I know that varies by version for some robins. This is full-whites. They do still turn green when he's angry tho)
***
Jason only realized he’d been tricked after they finally called it a draw.
For all a snowball fight barely counted as a fight, he certainly felt calmer after getting some of his energy out.
He’d been so distracted enjoying himself he hadn’t even thought of using the chaos to bolt - not that he would have anyway, given he still didn’t know where to find a portal home.
The girl flits in front of him just in time for him to catch his breath.
“Nice to meet you,” She holds out a hand, grin as exuberant as it had been throughout the game - minus the feral tinge of competitiveness.
“I’m Danielle,” she offered as he shook the proffered hand. “But call me Elle - or Dani with an i if you want to mess with someone.”
The mischief on her face at the suggestion made him think she’d done so before.
She almost certainly already knew his name, but not telling her himself would be rude - a death sentence if they really were fae. Still, that she hadn’t prompted him should make it safer. Maybe.
(If the initial kidnapping was permitted by Danny hearing his name then he certainly didn’t hear a prompt from him, but who knows if inaudible whispers count. At least he can see that Danielle’s mouth hasn’t moved)
(Not like he isn’t already kidnapped anyway. What’ll they do, double kidnap him?)
“Jason,” he says as he disengages from the handshake, smiling genuinely despite himself.
(And he meant to smile, he did - he’d read enough stories to know how important being polite to the fae is; one wrong word and you’re 15 ribs shy of a full skeleton. Or a brother shy of a full family. It was half the reason he’d spoken as little as he had - but he hadn’t meant for it to be real)
“I’m sure Danny told you aaaaaall about me already, and yes, I really am that cool.”
Danielle - Elle - breaks Jason out his mental spiral. He just manages to smother his laugh with a cough.
“Ah, the tour actually got kind of off track, so I hadn’t had a chance to mention you yet.”
Elle gasps dramatically, putting both hands over her heart and flopping to the ground at Danny’s proclamation.
“Oh, I am wounded! I am shattered! I am abandoned and unloved!-” Danny laughs “-I am filing a formal complaint! I am requisitioning forms to have my darling emotional support Panther, Palu, moved to the Palace-”
“You- Emotio-WHAT!?” Danny reels back, expression horrified.
Elle floats up to sit a foot off the ground, arms and legs both crossed. She glares at him for about 5 seconds before sticking out her tongue and grinning.
“I’m kidding, you big chicken.”
“She ate my cape made with Actual Stars, Elle.”
Elle laughs at Danny’s clear relief and the following pout. Jason himself fails to suppress a snort.
“Well,” Danny huffs, turning to Wulf. “While these two are busy laughing at my expense, I wanted your opinion on something.”
He gestures to a more distant tree with his eyes, and Wulf follows as he floats away - probably aiming for out of earshot.
Elle abandons her laughter to float upright just in front of him - the floating equivalent of standing, he supposes.
“Anyway, like I said, I’m Elle. Long story short Danny’s ex-arch-nemesis who shall not be named wanted to adopt Danny and handled the ‘no’ really poorly and tried to clone him. I was the only surviving clone, and after trying to kill Danny on said manipulative ex-nemesis’ orders he managed to change my mind about said nemesis, helped stabilize me, and eventually ended up adopting me.” She said, in the most nonchalant manner possible, which, wow, the story really did not call for.
Jason desperately wants to know the long version.
“Sooo…” she drawls, smile gaining a teasing edge, “I guess you can actually just call me big sis.”
She laughs at his suddenly blank expression.
“No? How about ‘best big sister ever?’ Oh! Oh! Or ‘Coolest big sister in the Realms?’ Get it? Cuz ice powers.”
She flits around him as she speaks, wiggling her fingers and loosing a few flakes of snow at the last bit for emphasis, giggling.
Jason isn’t sure how to respond without insulting her somehow.
To any of that, really.
“Never expected to have a baby brother,” she muses, “but then with how readily he adopted me despite my origins I guess it isn’t all that surprising. Especially with you being a halfa and all. We’re really rare, I’m sure you’ve noticed. Or maybe not - you are only like a week old, technically.”
“I’m 22,” he corrects, unbelievingly.
She snorts.
“In human years, maybe.”
And hey. Wow. Jason is not a fan of that.
(Yes, he’s glowing. Yes, he’s visibly de-aged 7 years. No, he has not accepted any of the potential implications that has regarding his human-ness.)
Jason has roughly 100 more questions after her little info-dump than he did before.
Before he can debate risking those rib bones, what can only be one of the infamous ‘eyeballs’ shows up.
It sure is an eyeball, just one giant eye takes up most of its head, but for the thin green outline that connects to the rest of its body - only seen by the matching green of its hands, which themselves bear off-puttingly long claws.
It is also wearing quite possibly the most pretentious robes he has ever laid eyes on.
This coming from someone who grew up watching Brucie Wayne play air headed, carefree rich boy like it was his true calling - the man had a designer collection of dramatic robes to greet unexpected late-evening guests with.
“Phantom.”
“Greg.”
“That is not my name.”
By the terse greetings and short follow-up, this was a common exchange.
The eyeball - Greg, why not - turned its eye on Jason just then.
For all its size, the eye moved just as fast as a normal one. The motion was wrong in some indefinable way; grotesque to see. He did his best not to react, cautious of setting the being off; this one seemed more volatile than those he’d met thus far.
Despite the lack of a facial expression, Jason couldn’t help but feel like he was being sneered at.
Thankfully its attention on him was brief, turning back to address Elle after only a beat.
“If you are quite finished shirking your duties to play in the snow, the Valhallan representative is waiting to speak with you.”
“What??? He isn’t supposed to be here for another hour,” Elle questioned, brown pinched.
“It has been an hour, Phantom.”
He floats to her side to point towards the palace.
“If you would be so kind, I would like to get this over with.”
“Uuuuuuugh,” Elle groans, drifting slowly in that direction despite the apparent distaste, “Can’t you just watch from your lair like Clocky always does?”
“You know very well that matters of exceptional import and tumultuous path selection require personal observation in order to maintain timeline coherency. All royal meetings for-”
“‘-at least the next three weeks fit the criteria.’” Elle makes air quotes as she speaks, turning to face Greg while still floating towards the palace, backwards.
“I know, I know. Blah blah regulation, blah blah timelines, blah blah paperwork. Heard it. Got it. Thanks.” She concludes with an eyeroll, before looking back at him.
“Have fun with the rest of the tour!” she yells, smiling and waving as if she was already a mile away. “Make sure Danny shows you the map rooms!”
And then she turns and zooms away.
He can sense the faintest bit of rage coming from Greg, and he barely hears the muttered ‘Insufferable abomination’ before the…guy?...eye… follows suit.
He watches until the eye disappears into the building.
At which point he hears a small sigh from beside him.
He nearly jumps out of his skin in startlement, whipping his head around to find Danny floating placidly by his side, saluting into the distance.
“Good luck, Elle,” he says mournfully, “Rip to your good mood.”
“That bad?” Jason asks, resettling his nerves.
Danny snorts.
“The Observants always make everything either as boring as they can or as difficult as they can. It could be worse though; the Valhallans are a party people so it should balance out. Best case scenario they’ll spend the end of the meeting annoying ‘Greg’-” he adds air quotes at this, grinning, “-together.”
‘The Observants must be the eyeballs then,’ Jason thinks. ‘The name is a bit on the nose…or eye.’
“Anyway!” Danny twists and drifts to float in front of him. “We’ve got another hour or so before dinner; ready to get back to the tour?”
Jason opens his mouth, then pauses.
He takes a glance around and asks “Where is Wulf?”
“Oh, he’s off picking up a preorder - Volume 15 of, uh…something? I don’t remember the name. But don’t worry, he’ll be back in a few hours.”
And wow, the promise that Wulf isn’t just hovering unseen in the background does a lot to untense muscles he hadn’t realized were tensed.
“Right. Sure, tour away.”
He held in his questions, for all that he was bursting at the seams for answers.
Because really: Clone? Archnemesis??? Was this a hero-villain thing or a fae politics thing? Cloning generally wasn’t a thing heroes did, but kidnapping wasn’t either.
What did Elle mean by ‘Halfa?’ Or technically a week old???
Also: brother? Adopted? There’s no way, right?
Being yanked off of the streets of Crime Alley by some dude living in a veritable castle to be adopted with little to no explanation was not something that happened to people twice.
Let alone when he is, in fact, a grown-ass man.
----------------------
The next section they visit is Elle’s, located close to the final tower on the same side as the Specters’ had been.
The first room is filled with complex ice sculptures - a panther the size of a horse, a normal-sized cat, a few of the yetis, a kid in a pirate garb with a parrot, a girl covered in…Lunch Boxes? Danny, Jazz, and Spike were scattered among more unfamiliar statues.
They take their time in this room, Danny pointing to a lot of the people depicted and giving him names to go with faces - he even recognizes a few of them from earlier parts of the tour, and makes sure to commit them all to memory.
Then came the rooms that looked like a cosmopolitan’s dream collection.
A room dedicated to world maps through the ages - little groups of similarly-aged maps slowly orbited each other in globe-like patterns while newer versions and even a few of alien worlds lined the walls.
At least 3 rooms are dedicated to photos from all around the world - he spotted the Eiffel Tower, the Pyramids, the Congo from above, the Great Wall of China, Niagara Falls - plenty of well-known tourist locations, as well as a wide variety of nature shots. The nature shots took up an entire floor-width room, and were arranged to transition from one biome to the next.
The next room is full of souvenirs; postcards, foods from around the world frozen in more of that crystal-clear ice, weapons, clothing, jewelry - a little bit of everything.
Another swift pass-through - and by, since one of them was occupied - of the meeting, sitting, and nap rooms has them finally arrive at the room that was probably the reason Elle said ‘map rooms’ and not just ‘room.’
It was domed like an observatory, but instead of the night sky it showed that infinite green.
Different sections zoomed in and out, just slowly enough to take in. The room is scattered with cushions and telescopes aimed up. At the very center stands some kind of machine, spitting out paper which, when he floats over to look at it, reveals a single, ever-growing map.
“Elle is obsessed with travel,” Danny says fondly. “She was away more often than not at first, but then she got the idea to map the Realms - a map that can be referenced rather than a single ‘take me where I ask you to’ artifact.”
He floats up towards the dome as he speaks.
“It might seem pointless with how much paper an infinite amount of realms will take to map, but the mechanism feeds the map data into a computer that sends everything to be incorporated into Tucker and Technus’ Zone Map App. It updates constantly, what with the fluctuations in the Zone, but it’s always improving.”
“Fluctuations?” Jason asks, processing the ‘infinite amount of realms’ remark.
“Think of it like space; there’s gravity against the constant growth of the universe. The zone expands and contracts, like the flow of a tide. Except it’s moving in all directions instead of just the two.
But it expands more than it contracts, and just like on the sea or in space things can drift closer together or farther apart. Following specific streams can help, but only so much. Reliable navigation was pretty hard to come by before Elle, Tuck, and Technus started working on this.”
“Impressive,” Jason says softly.
And it is. The thought of mapping a veritable ocean with important bits that never stayed in the same place…it seemed nigh-impossible.
Opposite the third tower - “We can tour my tower after dinner,” Danny had said - lay the section belonging to Jazz and Spike.
The first thing they come to is familiar - the library.
“Anyone can use the library, but Jazz is the one in charge.”
Jason stops cold.
“Jazz.” He echoes.
Jazz, who had so calmly and proficiently wielded a gun.
Who had gifted him a gun.
Who had expressed her own love for literature.
They’d even briefly discussed some of the classics and yet-
“Jazz made that impossible excuse for a sorting system!?”
He couldn’t bring himself to worry about upsetting him, he’d just have to risk the ribs. That ‘sorting’ system was a travesty that could not stand unchallenged.
Luckily, Danny only chuckles a bit.
“Come on, it’s not that bad,” he snorts, shaking his head.
“Not that- how are you supposed to find anything!” he shouts, throwing his hands into the air.
“You ask,” Danny answers, brow raised.
“WHO!? THERE’S NO RECEPTIONIST!” Jason scrubs his hands against his hair in frustration.
Understanding dawns on Danny’s face at that.
“Here, let me show you,” he says, nodding to the doors before zooming through.
Jason follows, anger simmering under his skin - fully his own, for the first time in years.
“Library,” Danny says as Jason comes to float beside him, “May I please see The Guide to Phantom Palace?”
A book soars from a wall shelf to float, wiggling in front of him like an eager puppy.
“Thank you!” Danny says brightly, before turning to hand the book to Jason.
“The library is sentient,” he explains. “Good manners are key, by the way - Jazz is in charge, but the library can and will kick people out if they're rude or incautious with food and drinks.”
Jason stares at the book in his hand a moment, frustrated at the simplicity of it and the hour he spent looking aimlessly, but at least a bit soothed at the presence of a way to actually find things - even if the organization still makes no sense.
“Why the emotional organization system, then?” He finally asks.
“That’s for Jazz,” Danny answers. “This library is a part of some psychology project she’s doing - the return system, at least. Ask the library for the book you want - or you can ask for suggestions based on certain criteria. It’s sentient, it can help you find things - and when you’re done with it you put it back where you think it should be based on your own emotions.
Or if you don’t want to participate you can just put your books back on the shelf by the desk and Jazz will rearrange them however she sees fit.”
“Psychology project?” Jason asks after pause.
“Ah, you’d have to ask her. She told me all about it when it was first getting set up, but as much as I tried to understand it, it was all Greek to me.”
“Anyway!” he claps, “Now for the rest!”
The rest of Jazz’s section seems to follow the psychology theme.
A rage room that looks well-loved - battered, glowing clubs and a variety of damaged items from tech to glass to dummies that appeared to be slowly healing themselves.
A soothing room full of soft things and calming music and candles and even a few flowers.
A sound-proof room for quiet, a therapy room for meeting with ‘patients.’ Then of course there were the business meeting, paperwork, sitting, and nap rooms. And a combat room.
The nap, combat, and sitting rooms seemed to be shared, with the second part of the section - Spike’s - branching off from the sitting room.
Spike, of course, had his own cursed paperwork and meeting rooms.
Then came the ‘this is the home of an artist’ rooms.
An enormous circular room was dedicated to acting as a color wheel, the walls slowly shifting from deepest reds to darkest indigos, with every shade and color in between. In the center of the floor was the darkest shade of black, radiating out to a blinding white where it met the walls - the ceiling was the opposite, a bright white dot radiating darker until it met the walls as a void-like black.
A room filled with sketches and paintings, a room full of blank or half-made canvases with pencils and paints and brushes floating all around - seemingly where they’d been abandoned, a room full of miniature landscapes matching both locations he’d seen on earth and the strange landmasses he’d seen on the journey to the castle. And then what Danny called an archive room, where Spike stored older projects that he no longer wished to display.
Skalfred found them just as Danny finished explaining the room.
“Perfect timing!” Danny grins, turning to Jason. “Race you there?"
They’re near the library. Jason knows the way.
He zips around Skalfred and out the door in lieu of an answer.
He can just faintly hear Danny sputtering, ‘You cheater!’ coming out around the echoing laughter behind him.
***
@mayoota-blog1 @kyrianclawraith, @do3y, @someonebored0100 @omegasmileyface @a-star-with-a-human-name @akikoyuii @newgraywolf @tytythehistoryguy
Fun Facts!
Elle’s name - she initially chose Dani because she didn’t want to change herself just to differentiate herself from Danny - lots of people have the same name, and she has just as much right to it as Danny.
But it also made her feel too much like a copy and less like a person - especially with the confusion when she started living with the Fentons.
Then Jazz suggested Elle would be a nice name - it’s part of her name already and it’s like Elle Woods, known badass. They then watched legally blonde, and Dani decided it was a really cool name and started going by Elle. She’s a lot happier with it - no more discomfort when being spoken too, and they can still call her Dani when she and Danny are both in the room and they want to annoy the Observants or other people by doing The Bit(™) [both pointing to themselves ‘who me’ - other person, also in on the bit, facepalming and saying ‘Danny’ - them ‘which Danny.’ Of course no one told the observants Dani also goes by Elle. One time one got tired of it and went ‘Obviously the Danny with the crown of fire.’ And Danny makes the Crown of Fire appear (separate little mini-rings-transformation) at the same time Elle pulls a Burger King Crown actively on fire from her Halfa Pocket Space and they both go ‘which crown of fire’ and it is by the blessing of not having organs alone that the observant in question did not immediately have an aneurysm from sheer, apoplectic rage.]
Palu - Danny is a dog person, Elle is a cat person. Palu is named for Cath Palug - the closest thing I could find to a cat-equivalent of Cujo’s namesake. Same neon-green fur as Cujo, but all-purple eyes. Palu can be the size of a cat (around twice Cujo’s puppy-size), but can get up to the size of a horse (just slightly smaller than Cujo’s max). Unfortunately, Palu is very fond of Being Enormous And Also Hunting Everything That Moves That Isn’t Dani, so they put her in one of Sam’s conservation areas where she’d be happy. She liked it enough to move her lair - an incredibly large pet-bed in a small forest of cat trees - and Dani visits whenever she wants to see her.
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robybyn · 8 months
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Beware, this is a very, very, very scary story with a scary thing that will give you nightmares. If you haven't heard of it, it's the michael pikmin story. here it goes (beware)
I've always been a big pikmin fan, so imagine my surprise when i randomly came across a gamecube and pikmin 2 for aforementioned gamecube at a garage sale in Louisiana it was an immediate buy, my unwashed sweaty fingers swiftly reached for my pikmin themed wallet as i handed $42 to the garage sale man (a steal!!!). Obviously, I rushed home, plugged my cubed console into my wall, and tv then threw the blessed pikmin 2 into said gamecube, I sat my 32 year old ass onto the couch in my bitch mothers basement as i waited for pimkin 2 to load. and then there it was. the theme to pikmin 2 started playing... although it sounded a little slower than what i remembered... and a little lower in pitch, but I brushed it off as it was probably just me remembering it wrong, and I started playing the game!
Two hours into the game and one hour away after my stupid mother made me dinner with no fucking chicken nuggets (god I hate her) I came back and unpaused the game to see an untextured pikmin in the distance "that's weird" i thought, "probably just a bug tho" i said outloud to nobody but my olimar body pillow. I made olimar walk to the untextured pikmin so i could figure out what type it was and... upon closer inspection... the pikmins eyes was bleeding and looked voidesc. Seeing this creeped me, and I was about to walk away until the untextured pikmin said in a brash voice.
"I am evil pikmin. I do evil to all"
I gasped at the TV. what? "pikmin can't be evil" I thought but then the evil pikmin continued.
"I am evil pikmin, the true owner of this pikmin game is Billy Johnson. He died, and so now i must punish you for disturbing his resting place... MICHAEL"
Hearing the evil pikmin say my name made me piss myself in fear but not in a pathetic way, a cool way. I decided to unplug the gamecube and plug it back in, hoping it would fix everything... I was wrong.
the game loaded up, the theme music sounding even more ominous than before. when i tried to load the game, my save file was gone, so i punched the wall, prompting Mother to shout at me. i decided to start again, but this time, the evil pikmin was hiding in the cutscenes and around the levels, and when i turned Olimar around to face the camera... his eyes were red and bleeding!!!! I jumped out of my couch and evil pikmin showed up again. Olimar and evil pikmin got closer to the camera and started talking at the same time.
"MICHAEL YOU STOP PLAYING THIS PIKMIN RIGHT NOW"
Olimar shouting at me made me cry a little, but i stood my ground and shouted back at the tv "NO I'M PLAYING THIS GAME NO MATTER WHAT" inbaddass tone, oh how deeply I regret that! the evil pikmin shot olimar as I screamed "whyyyyyy" my bitch mother came down and started yelling until i heard another gunshot, the evil pikmin left the TV and killed her!!!! The evil pikmin was out of the TV and grabbed me by my receding hairline as he began to swing me over his head as if i was the pikmin i was so happily throwing around just an hour ago, he thew me into a wall knocking me unconscious, I thought i had died because he shot me too but months later I woke up from a coma after all the events. I was naive and thought the evil pikmin couldn't get me here... I was wrong. Dead wrong. The evil pikmin jumped from the ceiling like a licker from resident evil and started attacking my face beating me until i began to cry. finally, after my beating was over, the evil pikimin said
"One of these days Michael pikmin, I will kill you, I'm going to follow you around and enact my vengeance upon you every day until i get bored"
He let out an evil laugh. Michael pikimin? why did he call me that I thought until... I LOOKED DOWN AND MY BODY WAS SLOWLY TURNING INTO A PIKMIN I'M TYPING ALL OF THIS AS I TRANSFORM FURTHER INTO-
"pikmin"
Guys, I told you this story was terrifying... I hope you sleep well tonight.
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sucuretcannelle · 2 months
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A little bit of dialogue practice, getting to know their new personalities more 😐
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"You're tense...You really shouldn't worry. Honestly I'm surprised no one's gotten drunk yet. I think that's what Kuji would really want."
The princess shook her head and smiled weakly. The dark circles and creases under her eyes were rather prominent today, despite not a hair of hers being out of place.
"I'm not worried."
"I can see right through you. Worst comes to worst, he smites you like Zeus, you stay dead for a bit, and then you can go back to your fiancé and your boyfriend."
She laughed dryly, "You know, you'd make a great jester. You're funny, but I don't think you're joking."
The air between the two Sins rapidly turned sour after that interaction. Aibreanne turned her back to her and walked away. She sighed a breath that she didn't know she was holding in and rolled her shoulders back before approaching Nash. She tapped him on his shoulder, and he turned around. The bounty hunter was near the buffett, holding a barbeque rib in one and a chicken wing in the other.
"You scared the dogshit outta me."
Her tail flicks behind her, "I've been working on my stealth."
She glanced at his mouth and snickered. She even went to turn her head away from him before he could ask her what she noticed.
"I thought you came here to be respectful and mourn Mr.Acheron's death. Sounds like the food caught your eye. And your mouth."
She pulled a handkerchief out of the top of her dress and wiped his mouth right before he could question her.
"Do what you want, but when the gates open, you better be on your best behavior, understood?"
"Yeah, yeah, heard you."
She threw the handkerchief at his face, "And leave the gluttony to Lacuna, it's not a good look on you."
When he caught the falling handkerchief, he had a certain shimmer in his eye. He picks his head up to look back at her, "Damn, just come for my whole lineage why don't you?"
"I'll think about it."
The two looked as if they were about to say something, but Aibreanne turned to leave once again.
Am I being too snarky? Is snarky the right word? Sarcastic? Gods, I feel like Lexi.
She placed her hand across her mouth.
I think he'd say fiery. Not on purpose, but he'd notice it after I'd point it out.
"Head's cloudy?"
"Did you even need to ask?"
"It's polite to, Mrs.Saorise—"
Desire immediately felt a sharp pain when her tail whipped him. His arm went to rub his waist, which would soon become bruised by the attack.
"Oh, was I wrong? Are you keeping your last name?"
He was hushed as soon as he finished his sentence, "Would you quiet down already? You'll cause a stir like you always do, and everyone will shift their attention to me instead of the person who's clearly the most important here."
"I'm sure you like the attention. Plus, I think Akuji would've liked the drama."
She shook her head and closed her eyes, "And here I thought he lived up to his fables. 'Reticent and humble' they said."
"He was, just not when it came to some of us."
They sat in a comfortable silence for a few moments.
"Do you miss him?"
The smile that caught his lips was somber at best, "Of course I do. I wish these funeral traditions would end so we could put his name to rest, it's been so long. Nash was still aging by the time he died."
The goddess hummed in understanding.
"Do you miss Alexi?"
"Don't make me answer that."
"I wonder how your vows will go if you're that stubborn about affection."
I'm not stubborn. Wait, when did he change the topic?
He laughed to himself, "I'll be taking my leave. Try not to take this too seriously, alright?"
Sly fox.
"He can be a lot. I'd kill myself if I had to see him as often as you do."
"Velleitie, that is extremely unprofessional."
"But you fantasizing about your house himbo isn't? Okay."
He got me there.
"Have you seen Phthonus?"
"Nope. Haven't seen her."
"Tell Duke and Joule to open the gates, we can start without her."
As Wrath moved to the front of Akuji's statue, the large gates near the front swung open. The eerie silence that drowned all of the visitors turned into loud chattering from the public and camera clicks from their cameras. The noise was loud enough that it signaled all of the other Sins to come to the front as well.
Do I really have to do this? I never even knew him.
Nash and Aibreanne locked eyes for a second, so he mouthed to her, "It's good for your reputation, just do it."
I'll be really surprised if the cameras didn't catch that.
If asked by anyone there, they would've said the speech was formal and well prepared. At worst, it lacked passion and inspiration.
How many times will interviewers bring that up?
Much to her dismay, they would have a field day with that one. It's unfortunate that from the front gates, people could get a clear shot of the grave.
Perhaps that's what he wanted. He was the first Pride to die from an outside force, having the spotlight on him makes sense.
She waved to her colleagues as they teleported out. Facing away from the gate, she carefully seated herself on the base of the statue.
When one of us dies, where would they put us? Probably nowhere near him. Unless one of us suddenly chooses to become as heroic as him. His reputation rivals Archangel Michael's, and anyone would say that his achievements are impossible to surpass.
...That's what I would say if I had no plot significance.
"Why are you sitting here as if you have nothing to do?"
She looked up at Anasuya, or Phthonus who was crossing her arms. It seemed like the little time she had after her mission was spent looking for a dress that was far more creative and alluring than Aibreanne's.
"You look beautiful, as always."
Like many girls do after getting a compliment, she does a small half-turn on each side, slightly lifting her heels off the ground as she shifted.
"I know, you didn't have to tell me. Oh, and there's pockets, I'm tired of you just shoving everything in your bra."
"That's for me?"
"Isn't that obvious? Hadn't it been, I wouldn't even be here. Initially, that is. The Morningstars asked me to check on you."
Both of them?
"And my suggestion is that you get moving. You might turn into stone too if you just sit there overthinking. 'Hang out' with Charlotte or that judge you like to hang out with," she sighs, "He's rather attractive, don't you think? I'm sure he'd make you feel better."
"No comment."
"Understandable, I don't see how you can just stay so loyal to one man," She turned her back to her, beginning to pace in the other direction, "With how you look, it'd be considered a waste of beauty to—"
By the time she looked back, the princess was gone.
"...I may have worsened the situation."
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I want to be a person who isn't routinely incapacitated by outsized emotions. most of the therapists I've had have said I just have a lot of empathy. I feel like i would be more useful and productive as a person if I didn't.
(under the cut I meander around about my family a lot)
when I was in high school I took an elective called Global Conflicts In The Modern World. we watched a lot of documentaries and I had to sit in the hall during 90% of them after the first one where I had a panic attack because these terrible things were happening to real humans somewhere in the world. I could read about it, but something about the videos took me out at the knees.
the thing is, my panic attack was not helpful to anybody. I was not making any of those people's lives and situations better by being unable to bear looking at them head-on.
I sometimes think being this way is a character flaw. like, we have an obligation to bear witness, right? do we? I can't do it. I can't bear witness. it incapacitates me.
I'm now going to meander from the subject of real tragedy to the whole thing with my grandfather again. sorry.
my dad's logic points weren't totally wrong. he wants to die. as a child I was closer to my grandmother than to him. he's hard to talk to. he wasn't always nice.
but, like--- I don't think the people he hurt (my mother, who is not sad at all or at least projecting the appearance of not being sad at all) are obligated to be sad about him dying. that's not my point.
but also, I think everyone should be grieved for when they're dying. he was a curmudgeon and sometimes an asshole and he loved me. that's the last thing he said to me, I said "I love you," as we were leaving and he took my hand and said "I love you too, little girl."
I call a bunch of my relatives every Sunday. my paternal grandmother used to do it but then she died and then I started doing it. I want to keep in touch with people, especially my brother and some of my aunts. and I called my grandparents every week. my grandmother used to talk to me and then she stopped being able to use a phone because of the dementia. so I would talk to him for five minutes a week.
sometimes he'd talk about wanting to die. sometimes he'd talk about something he remembered-- the cats he had when he was a child, or something he used to do for work, taking the train to work. little stories. he could never talk for very long, but we'd say "I love you" and he'd always say "keep calling, little girl, keep calling." I think he liked having someone to talk to for a few minutes.
how am I supposed to look at this weird, curmudgeonly, sometimes mean man who loved me and not be sad that he's dying? my mom doesn't have to be but she facilitated a relationship between me and then when I was little and now he's my grandpop who I love because of course I do. dad acts like there's nothing to grieve. I can't talk to mom about it, that wouldn't be fair to her.
when my other two grandparents died, everybody was sad and nobody treated me like a space alien for being sad. it was still impossible. the priest at my grandfather's wake talked about how it was a good time to assess your life and get right with God. he talked about going to hell and I lost my mind and sobbed in the lobby. I missed my grandmother's actual funeral because I threw up so bad I had to go to the hospital, story of my life, but I went to her wake and sat with my great-uncle, the cool one who shut down my parents' ableist nonsense when I was a kid*. and I was in the living room when everyone got together to look at pictures and talk about her. I did not feel like I was on the moon with my grief.
*lets end this on a positive note. one time while we were in Ireland with my cool great-uncle I was having trouble cutting up some chicken or whatever and my mom started in on the "what are you going to do on a date with a boy if you can't cut your food with a knife and fork?"
this is a thing she did that genuinely fucked me up later, actually.
anyway, my uncle said "she'll order the spaghetti!" and I carry that with me forever, both as an actual strategy and a reminder of the fact that some of my relatives are cool, actually. it's possible to love me without wanting to fix me.
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queen-scribbles · 3 months
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#THEM!!!!#gosh I love them so much#god where do I even START#qyzen! I'm so happy to see qyzen get some love he's such an underappreciated companion and you really nailed his voice 💚#endrali straight up nopeing off of the entire planet because she was too horny#arcann seeing her leave and immediately assuming he'd done something wrong 😭😭 (laura bailey voice) can I hug him?#the combat! I always love how you write fights you do it so welllllll#the TENSION in that last conversation!#it felt like the *slightest* slip in self-control from either of them would have them making out right there in the hall#let them smoooooch#but more than that: LET 👏 ENDRALI 👏 FUCK 👏 she is gonna combust if she doesn't let off some of that steam soon#(qora is patting endrali on the shoulder in sympathy. 'could be worse. at least your bond doesn't have you sharing dreams with him.')
@haledamage I love them so much too, way WAY more than I expected when I first went "idk, Endrali's single I ~guess~ I could have her romance Arcann...?" played myself big time there😂 I was so happy getting to give Qyzen some love, he deserves it, and he was really, really fun to write. His speech pattern is so neat.
(Arcann's knee-jerk reaction to her leaving without him being "Clearly I did something wrong" is going on my list of writing things I'm proudest of for the year ngl[sorry, dude]. There's at least a couple points in the Sacrifice trailer where he and Thexan look to Valkorian for affirmation and Valkorion just turns away, so I felt it made sense and a habit he's learning to undo)
I have had this idea swimming around in my head for ages, but wanted to write the things leading up to the Unmasked Regret convo in chronological order(even if I have written stuff that skips to after they're together :3). I just find it hysterical, that my sweet, perky lil blueberry had such an X-rated dream about the guy she had to run away nope off the whole-ass planet to feel safe. We're definitely at the point where they both have Feelings for the other, and both are burying them very very deep bc they're so sure they aren't reciprocated, so why mess up what they have? and THIS is the thing that makes Endrali realize even if it's awkward and she's convinced he doesn't Like Her Like That(how she's missed the heart eyes GOD ONLY KNOWS), she has to at least tell him she Like-likes him, "I think I'm falling in love with you" etc etc and just deal with the fallout if it's not mutual. But then things get super busy for a couple weeks and then IOKATH, so she doesn't get a chance. And fun fact! Arcann planned to say something in that same interim and chickened out and then ofc she almost dies, which is what finally makes him give her the armor + confess. :3
SO yeah, next piece for them should cover the Unmasked Regret talk and there will be smooching, I promise. Less sure on the timeline for the Let Endrali Fuck part, but she's one of the pushier muses in that regard, so we shall see.
I love writing combat, I think I've mentioned that one or two(hundred) times? :P And I guess loving it so much means I write it more so it's one of the things I've really honed(thank you <333).
(And I love the mental image of Qora--So. Much. Taller--giving Endrali sympathy pats and Endrali pulling a 'You've Got a Point" face🤣🤣🤣)
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greatwyrmgold · 5 months
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For some reason, I've been thinking about what kind of power Asa Mitaka might get if she was from Earth Bet.
Background
Asa Mitaka's backstory requires basically zero adjustment, and literally zero if we allow devils to exist in this setting. (For those who don't know, the current Chainsaw Man arc is set in 1997. Kyushu is safe for a couple more years.) But it's worth covering that backstory and considering how that could affect her powers.
The most important event was her mother's death. Asa's neighborhood was attacked by the Typhoon Devil, and while she and her mom were running from it, Asa noticed a cat with an injured leg. Now is as good a time as any to mention that Asa, in her own words, always trips and falls at the most critical moment. And this moment was pretty critical.
Asa falls, and her mom has to stop to help her get on her feet. They keep running, but Asa's mom isn't quite fast enough to escape the Typhoon Devil's debris cloud. Asa blames herself; if she hadn't tripped, if she hadn't saved the cat, her mom wouldn't have had to stop and she wouldn't have been hit by that car.
Asa's dad had probably been dead for a while (he has literally never been mentioned, but Asa doesn't blame herself for his death, so he probably died before the Typhoon Devil attack), leaving Asa alone. She went to an orphanage, but she doesn't become friends with any of the other orphans, and the caretaker drowns the cat she saved. Asa is all alone.
Trigger Event
Now for the trickiest part to de-devil. Her class adopts Bucky, the Chicken Devil. Chickens aren't very scary, so he's an eggs-eptionally weak devil; the worst he can do is make terrible puns.
Most of Asa's class gets along with Bucky, with the exception of Asa. And it's made clear that Asa isn't close to any of them, to the point that only one of her classmates knows her name. (And it's the one that tries to kill her by the end of the chapter, so...not exactly bestie material.)
Anyways, the teacher says it's time to kill and eat Bucky, but the class says they refuse to. The teacher says good, that's what I wanted you to do. Everyone goes outside to play soccer. Asa hangs back until Bucky jumps into her arms, encouraging her to "come out of your shell" and play soccer. Also, he remembered her name, which as mentioned is remarkable.
Asa's protective aloofness and cynicism melt, letting her realize that her class wants to play soccer with her. She realizes that she was just jealous of the other students. Asa runs into the yard, still carrying Bucky.
I'd like to remind you of two important facts.
Asa always trips at the worst possible time.
Bucky is an absurdly weak devil.
Once Asa gets up, she sees Bucky's slightly splattered corpse under her. She looks up and sees her class freaking out about Bucky's death. A death, right after the teacher praised them about recognizing the value of life. A death, right as Asa was about to open up. A death which would make the rest of class hate her, which makes Asa hate herself.
Trigger Considerations
This is one of those Master/Stranger triggers. The trigger comes about from a mixture of isolation (alienating the entire class) and unwanted attention (the entire class staring at her, covered in Bucky's blood).
During the Falling Devil arc, Asa says that she's afraid of both solitude and companionship. Something always goes wrong when she tries to get close to people, and she ends up alone and in pain. So instead of a single Master/Stranger power which messes with other people's minds or senses, I think it makes sense to give her separate Master and Stranger powers, or at least distinct Master/Stranger aspects of the same power.
A few canon Strangers create duplicates; Othello, Blister, arguably the Custodian. Also, the Strangers document mentions duplicates as a "niche" sort of Master/Stranger power. Since Asa's self-loathing is a significant part of her personality and tied into her trigger event, having the Master half of her power involve sacrificial copies of herself makes sense.
As for the Stranger half...I'm thinking a mist that lets Asa teleport people within it. Specifically, the Trickster kind of teleportation, letting her swap locations with someone else. Obviously, this can be used to put other people in harm's way, make attacks that were meant to hit her hurt other people instead...the kind of thing that fuels Asa's self-loathing.
I want to add another restriction that makes it hard for her to use that power peacefully, but something like "can only teleport when she's afraid she'll get hit by something" feels too much like a reverse Armorface.
Power
Asa can create a greasy red mist. She produces it slowly when compared to the likes of Grue and Nyx, but she can cloak herself if she stays in one place for a minute or two. She can make the mist coalesce into solid (though fragile) duplicates of herself; they look almost identical to Asa, except that their skin is slightly redder and they have no mouths.
Asa controls her duplicates, and can see and smell through them. Her power helps her process this information, but not to anything like Skitter levels; she can direct several duplicates if they're all in the same general area as her and doing similar things, but only two or three if they're all doing things in separate rooms. Keeping duplicates solid requires a small but non-trivial amount of her focus; she can't assemble an army and only use a few at a time.
The duplicates disperse if they get more than a couple hundred feet from her. (The same is true of the mist, which is only significant if Asa moves.)
When destroyed, the duplicates release the mist—more than it took to create them, the exact amount depending mostly on how long the duplicate was around. If it was only around for a few seconds before getting shot, it barely releases more mist; if it survived several minutes, it can fill the room.
The mist is hard to see through; more than a couple feet and all you can see are silhouettes. It also muffles sounds and is unpleasant to stand in. It also lets Asa teleport. If both she and another person are engulfed in a contiguous cloud of mist, Asa can switch locations with them. Their silhouettes take a moment to change—that is, the target has Asa's silhouette and vise verse, until the mist shifts.
Conclusion
I don't have one.
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vavandeveresfan · 8 months
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Thoughts on the Beetlejuice 2 movie?
Honestly . . . .
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*deep breath*
Michael Keaton said that Beetlejuice was "lightning in a bottle." They had no idea WTF they were doing and whether anyone would like it. All the cast members were fairly unknown then; there were no Movie Stars as the main characters. Tim Burton was still on the Hollywood fringe. So everybody involved was pretty unselfconscious about it. Beetlejuice was sort of the equivalent of, "Hey, guys, let's make a goofy scary movie with a bunch of cheap-ass stop-motion, it'll be a fuckin' hoot!"
I remember hearing about it at the time. All the Entertainment Industry was saying, "Burton's next film sounds absolutely ridiculous. It's had three rewrites already."
They were stunned when it became massive hit.
This time Warner Bros, Burton & Co. know Beej has a huge fandom. So they're making the film with that in mind. And, in my humble opinion, when you self-consciously make something to please people you get clunky and messy.
Michael Keaton, bless his heart and I love the guy, is too old. He's 72. I have a lot of doubts whether he can capture the manic energy of Beej again. I mean, he basically created the character, but still, I've seen Keaton in recent roles and I definitely notice he's way older. The little bit I saw of him as Batman in The Flash made me cringe a bit.
I don't know the sequel's plot, but if they have Beej going after Lydia's daughter Imma gonna be pissed. I only Ship Beej + Lyds. I'd love Beej trying to win back older Lydia, and her, now a woman who is/was evidently married (maybe), and who has a kid, fighting against temptation. What 50+ year old woman wouldn't want to leave dull middle-age and hook up with a poltergeist?
The moment I saw this
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I really ground my teeth. It made me think of the old Robot Chicken skit of Beej married with a kid, still going to see Lydia. But Beej married????? NO no no nono.
If Beej is Lydia's kid's father . . . they're going to have to fill me in on all the backstory about THAT.
I don't trust the screenwriters to have gotten it right. I don't trust Tim Burton. His last several movies have all been shit (I enjoy Dumbo in spite of its many, crappy flaws). It's like Burton comes up with great ideas and then fucks up their execution. I haven't seen Wednesday so maybe I'm wrong, maybe he's bounced back. But I'm worried he Greenlit the Beej project because he thought, "We're getting too old, we need to do this now, before either Keaton or me dies," so he accepted a less than polished screenplay.
I want to be proven wrong. I want to walk out of Beetlejuice 2 laughing and yelling, "IT WAS FANTASTIC!" I'd love that.
I don't believe for a second I will.
What do you think, Anon?
Also, it better not have any references to that wet turd of a musical. I doubt it will. Both Michael Keaton and Tim Burton kept their distance from it. I wouldn't be surprised if one of the reasons Burton decided to greenlight the sequel was to return Beetlejuice to its original canon. He and Keaton, who basically invented Beej, had no involvement whatsoever with the musical; that was all Warner Brothers' baby.
youtube
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reds-ramblings · 2 years
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Thoughts?
Thoughts on what? Episode 10? I'm going to assume that's what you mean but if not feel free to let me know. So yeah spoilers!
If I'm being honest I was a little disappointed. I've seen several people say they wanted a darker ending. I can't say I wanted a darker ending but that was definitely what I was expecting. As someone else said I feel that chickened out. It's like they were afraid of making the fandom mad. Let's be honest, if Jake had died we all would have been pissed but I think we would have been ok with or at least gotten over anything else that could have happened. I wasn't necessarily disappointed in the ending but it could have been better.
I had suspected Richy was MWAF for a while so that wasn't a big surprise to me. When I saw the feed for the first time I was incredibly happy because at that moment I figured my theory had been wrong. Although I was correct on who I was completely wrong on why and I didn't expect them to make me feel sorry for him while simultaneously wanting to punch him in the face.
I liked the interaction with Dan in this episode. As I've said before Dan is my favorite, after Jake of course. I was happy with the option of watching a movie with him. I didn't choose it because I was afraid it would mess with the relationship with Jake but I'll play again and chose that option just to see what happens with that.
The thing I was most disappointed in would be the lack of answers. What happened to Phil? I'm assuming he was released after that but we don't know. How did Hannah get our number? I was also hoping to hear more about Jake's back story but I'm also hopeful that will come in the next game. The last conversation with him did kind of makeup for that though. I feel like since they took so long to develop this episode they could have at least tied up all the loose ends but I've all I was pretty happy with it. I swear they were trying to give us all a heart attack in some parts.
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reitziluz · 1 year
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Back at'cha!! 9 and 14 for the artist ask meme <3
thanks!! a simple one and a complex one.
9. What are your file name conventions
oh damn. there's the thematic or outright titles of the works, like splitattheroot or howskeletonsareborn. more often, especially for one off things, it's more along the lines of sexywizardbullshit or hungery. for challenges or series, i tend to do pretty utilitarian file names, like witchfashion_pencilskirt.
when i start to really get into an idea, the amount of files for it tend to explode. when that happens, the "core" name tends to get more matter of fact. the current file for shit-all is dsdsa_canoncompliancecut, but there's also dsdsa_oldarchived and dsdsa_rewrit_note (which is the spreadsheet file for the rewrite).
14. Any favorite motifs
ahhh this is hard! i mean, skeletons, flowers and food feel like obvious things to mention? but hmm...
there's of course monstrous hunger. especially when it's made mundane. like in the venom movie with the tater tots and trash can chicken, or when i used to read mcu fics just for the "everyone lives in the avengers tower and boy do supersoldiers eat a lot" type of content. i have one oc, whose one iteration in a superhero setting had the power to literally become what he ate, but the drawback was a ridiculous metabolism that also meant he had to eat constantly. something about bodily needs that are not respected because they're seen as funny or frivolous or something inconvenient and unsightly that's ought to be controlled and surely the person is exaggerating and should just act normal because why would anyone normal experience a basic thing like that that strongly or in such a weird way?
monsters, specifically skeletons, and even more specifically gashadokuro, are also a big fave. the process of becoming a monster, or being made into one. but i don't find the "pure evil" kind of monsters compelling at all*. like, sure, gashadokuro bite off the heads of lone travelers and drink their blood, and that's a p straighforward evil thing to do. but if you reduce them to that, it's like, you might as well be writing about lightning strikes or earth quakes? the compelling thing about monsters to me is how complex they are. not in a shallow sympathetic portrayal of "oh there's a tragic backstory so all the wrongs are excused", but in the inherent horror and tragedy of "oh, i see how i could have become that" and "i see how that could have been prevented but wasn't." gashadokuro are formed from the spirits of those who fell in battle, who were disrespected in death, or who died of starvation, and they crumble to nothing when their rage is spent. that's devastating on multiple levels, and i think the tragedy adds to the horror as much as the horror adds to the tragedy.
(there's also something to be said about how people who see monsters as inhuman pure evil might also fail to recognize or outright reject the possibility that they could be acting monstrously against others, and also how extending no sympathy to any monsters can also turn into hatred for the parts in you (unfairly) deemed monstrous, but i've already gotten off topic and rambled enough.)
*to be fair, this is mostly just when the monster is more of a character of its own. like if the monster is way in the symbolic end of the spectrum, or like, more of just a scenario like zombies most of the time are, that's alright. but i don't get people who, for example, say that sephiroth is absolute pure evil and to argue anything else diminishes him as a villain, when i think knowing that he was 14 at the oldest when he was first thrown into an all out war and that without the evils of shinra the evils he committed would also not have come to pass just... like fuck man, how is that not more terrifying to you than a flavorless construct of "pure evil" that you can compartmentalize and distance from yourself and your reality as a whole?
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thschei · 3 months
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Okay well um . I started writing this post and it started to get too long and go off topic so I'm going to put the more relevant info in this post and then finish typing the other post tomorrow probably and you can read that for more hashtag erin lore
Tw for discussion of animal death/illness, cancer, and (unintentional) disordered eating; no one is obligated to read this. It'll also probably get pretty long. Again, don't feel like you need to read this if these are upsetting topics for you
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Uhhh how do I start this . Um, it's been a bad week. I don't think I've had a worse new years; even when my dad died it had been earlier in the year so we were more numb to the fact he wasn't there.
For the first few days I couldn't eat anything more than toast or crackers and I'd start crying when I tried to eat. I don't really know what the physiological connection is there, but I have to assume there is one. I was having to take my PRN anxiety meds multiple times a day because I was getting so upset I'd get nauseous and feel like I couldn't breathe.
I'm doing better now; today's the first day I felt like I wanted to eat willingly and not out of obligation, I haven't cried yet, and I haven't needed my anxiety meds.
But the day after my cat died, we found a tumor on my dog's stomach. It sounds like I'm making this up for attention on the internet, but it wasn't there before this day. Cosmic irony, god's ire, greek tragedy, etc etc.
My dog is 15, so all of us are against any surgery or chemotherapy, even if we could afford it. My mom works in hospice, so just take my word for it when I say all of us know how much pain and suffering and loss of quality of life that (invasive) surgery and chemotherapy causes for people.
So we just spent the day trying to keep her as comfortable as possible. We rearranged pillows and blankets, helped her move, tried offering her Literally every piece of food that was safe for dogs that we have (cat food, dog food, chicken, roast beef, turkey, ham, cheese, etc), sat down towels when she refused to go potty outside.
I made the decision to not talk about this on here for several reasons. I didn't want to contribute to people feeling sad or guilty over NYE, when there's already so many sources of despair and disillusionment in the world. I didn't want to receive pity; something I've hated feeling since my dad died when I was little. I didn't want empty platitudes of toxic positivity insisting that things would turn around and good things will start happening to me, and I didn't want to be the asshole who wasn't grateful for those empty platitudes. Most of all, I didn't want people to change how they treat/interact with me because they knew. I didn't want to be treated like I'm fragile or need special treatment. (If it needs saying, I still don't want to be treated like that.) I wanted to cry in my bedroom, and then reblog silly posts like nothing was wrong.
It's been a few days since the 30th, obviously. She's having less trouble walking, wags her tail when she sees us again, after a few (absolutely heartbreaking) days of not moving her tail at all. Her appetite is slowly coming back, she ate a little tuna and cat food.
But... the tumor has grown already, in just these few days, and she keeps licking at it, so it's sore and raw. My mom and brother don't want to put her to sleep because she's been improving. I obviously do not want to lose her; she's my baby and my sister and my mother all in one. She was the first pet we got that I picked out. When I leave the bathroom door open, she sits with her back facing the bathroom, guarding me.
But I don't want her to suffer. I don't want this to get worse. I want her to be able to go out with dignity and some quality of life. I don't want her to not have any quality of life left by the time we decide to stop being selfish and let her go.
Two of my friends sent me some money to help cover the cost of putting her to sleep. It was very very kind, and I can't put into words how much I'm grateful for my friends for every act of kindness and love they do for me.
I don't really know how to end this, because I still don't know what we're going to do. I know what I want to do, but it's not solely my decision and I want to respect my mom and brother's feelings. I just know that holding all this in and not talking about it was starting to be... Not Good, as much as I did want to just Be Another Random Guy on tumblr, being annoying about my hyperfixations.
If you've read any or all of this, thank you. Please don't treat me differently because of any of this, and let me post my silly little things like nothing's wrong. That's what's helped me keep it together.
Oh, and it's my birthday on the 10th. I don't want to get into it now (my birthday woes can be its own separate erin lore post too), but every year something bad happens around my birthday, so this is this year's Incident. The only socially acceptable thing I can think to say is a sarcastic yayyyyy consistency <3333.
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casspurrjoybell-29 · 4 months
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Forging Ties - Chapter 33 - Part 1
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*Warning Adult Content*
"Anyway," Zunda said as she leant over to get a closer look at the baby bundled in Hamish's arms.
"Who's this tiny thing?"
"That's Aris," Nim said. "Do you remember when I told you about her? The winged woman who died and turned into an egg?"
"That's her? She was with Skye?"
"Well... it's complicated," Nim said. "But ultimately she did come back with him, yes."
Zunda held her arms out towards Hamish.
"May I have a hold her?"
"Absolutely," Hamish said as he passed Aris over.
"And if you're in the market for adoption, well..."
As Zunda distracted herself with cooing over Aris, Nim stepped away and quietly beckoned to Skye.
"Yeah?" Skye asked.
"Can we talk for a moment?" Nim made eye contact with Harrison.
"Alone?"
Skye had been growing quite comfortable with having a fierce and deadly bear between him and everyone else at all times,but he wasn't going to say no to Nim.
"Okay."
Skye jumped off Harrison's back and followed Nim along the strip of grass that ran along the scrubby brush that bordered the beach.
They didn't stop until they were out of earshot of even the keenest of werewolf ears.
"I've been thinking," Nim said.
"How would you feel if we adopted Aris?"
Skye quirked his head to the side.
"Hamish seems like he'd prefer not to be the one to raise her and I have experience with babies. If Aris has been in that egg this whole time, she might be better off with people who remember what things used to be like. And after what she did for us..."
Skye nodded.
"Do you want to?"
"I do but it's your home too now. It's not something I'm going to decide for us. I wouldn't expect you to do any of the baby care but sharing a home with a little one can be a lot in itself. Kids are a handful."
"We should do it," Skye said.
"Sometimes I don't like kids but I bet we could raise her with good values, like not throwing rocks at me."
"Well, I'd hope so," Nim said.
"Zunda was never meant to be my kid. I was never meant to be her father. Don't get me wrong, I am her dad and I love her but I didn't get to raise her myself. I didn't have any say about anything and right to her. I'm sure things will be a little less than typical with Aris, considering she's already hundreds of years old but I'd love to walk that road with her. Whatever it ends up looking like."
"I wanted a cat and a hammock and you got those things for me. If you want a kid, I want you to have one. I want you to have the things that make you happy as well."
"As long as it's not something that's going to make you any less happy. A baby and a cat aren't really comparable."
"Nah, they're basically the same," Skye said.
"Have you ever heard a sound and you can't tell if it's a baby crying or a cat meowing? A baby is just a really feeble cat."
Nim let out a quiet laugh.
"Okay. You're happy for me to make the offer to Hamish, then?"
"I already said yes, like, five times."
"You did not."
"Well, I lost count. One should be enough. It was definitely more than one time."
Nim gave Skye a fond smile and shook his head.
"Okay. Let's go back and talk to Hamish."
As soon as they got back to the others, Skye climbed Harrison again and snuggled in against his shoulder.
His fur was coarser than Nim's but he had a lot more of it.
"Hamish, are you serious about looking for someone else to raise Aris?"
"Yeah," Hamish said.
"You interested?"
"Yes."
"Oh, huh," Hamish said.
"Somehow I didn't see that coming. You want to adopt her?"
"If you're comfortable with it," Nim said.
"I have the time and the space, and it wouldn't be my first time looking after a baby. I talked to Skye about it and he agreed."
"We have a cabin in the woods," Skye said, his chin pillowed on his arms.
"And a cat and chickens and lots of fruit trees."
"I've only just met Skye but I can vouch for Nim," Yore said.
"I spent all the time I could spare at that cabin growing up. It was the one place where I could just be a kid."
"Since before you even remember," Zunda added.
"He never once said no to having you stay with him. Or Slone, for that matter. Slone hated being a baby, and he didn't let Emity and I get much sleep. When we needed a break, my dad was always willing to take him."
"Until he was six and you stopped offering, anyway," Nim said.
"It wasn't personal," Zunda insisted.
"After he ran away and ended up with those humans, we were a lot less willing to let him go anywhere away from the pack. Maybe that was a mistake, in retrospect. Maybe holding him too close only made things worse but it was hard to make any other choice when Emity was so terrified."
"Ah, yeah," Slone said.
"Took us all a while to figure things out. Didn't even really understand myself why I couldn't just do what everyone wanted me to."
"We can't change the past, only learn from it," Yore said.
"And, to bring us back on topic, I can safely say that what we learnt was that Nim is an excellent father."
"I trust your judgement," Hamish said.
"I think you'll be good, too, in your own way, Skye. You have a very protective spirit. I don't know if you can change a diaper, but I do know that you wouldn't let any harm come to Aris."
"Yeah," Skye said.
"I did throw her into that fire, which is a bad thing for most babies but for very specific babies it's exactly what they need. To be on fire."
"I guess that's true but it still sounds really bad," Hamish said.
"I'll get her things off the ship for you. I've got some powdered milk for her. I assume you know how to get hold of more?"
"Yes," Nim said.
"It's not the cheapest thing but at least she's small so she shouldn't eat as much as the other babies I've taken care of."
"She eats more than you'd think but yeah, still not that much," Hamish said.
"Do you mind if I come and visit her? I'm not the right person to raise her but I'd still like to be a part of her life. Like a cool uncle or something."
"Of course. I'll draw you a map to our cabin before we leave. You're welcome any time."
"I'll come by as well," Zunda said.
"It's been a while since I've been there and since we're staying here right now, we're closer than we usually would be."
"You're welcome any time," Nim said.
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frogsandfries · 7 months
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Anyway
I made my bed for the first time since I got it.
The body pillow is a great touch, imo, but my real trick is sleeping on top of the duvet, if you can--like now, it's hot outside. So I just had to touch it up from all the scooting off the bed in the morning. I also re-rolled my smaller blankets into a nice cervical pillow. It makes a good neck rest. Yeah, I know, lame. I'm giving the cats some time to wake up before I go out. They don't like to wear their harnesses, so they get to stay in the bedroom while I leave the apartment. They have water and their litter box, they'll be fine after they get breakfast.
My headphones also died from neglect, which is fine. So I'm waiting on those to charge, so I can play my endless background music.
I've been thinking also, about my inability to money. Like, I can give myself a budget, I can pay my bills, I don't have trouble being certain there's money for rent and my internet. But I haven't had a proper phone in months. I have the worst time like, buying stuff for the apartment instead of food, even snacks. Because apparently, all I will eat, when left to my own devices, are snacks. Which actually, yeah, that tracks. When I was living with my friend before coming to New Mexico, the only time I ate a Meal was if I got fast food, or they invited me to eat with them. But I mostly just bought myself snacks. Good thing I don't have access to a Menard's or Farm and Fleet. I don't know anywhere around here like that, that sells like, bagged bulk goods? I don't quite know how else to describe it.
I also don't know anywhere that sells a variety of pastries. I guess the core culture being mountain/desert-based, fattening pastries wouldn't really be a part of the diet like they would somewhere that gets cold. The culture around here is distinctly devoid of that Scanda-Germanic base that I'm used to. At least where I was in Arizona had a hearty Jewish culture; that was close enough to familiar for me.
Tangent, I don't understand hating people of Jewish decent, religious or ethnic. My dad tried to practice "color-blindness", which in the 90s kinda felt like the thing to do, so he didn't even teach me why black and/or Jewish people were hated. I sure wasn't going to learn it in school. Although, he may not have known either.
All I can imagine, from my limited grasp of history, is that their cleaning rituals helped them survive the plague better, but no, it went on before them. Money handling? But.......I don't understand that either. That they have the wrong idea of "God" and this Christ character??? But religion is fucking made up, dude. It's all fake and we can free ourselves from the shackles of feudalism. I contend, to this day, that Christianity in its current form is all about entrapping people in their own minds and imaginations and I will not have a part of it.
Anyway, I appreciate Jews and their food culture at the very least. It's familiar to me as part of the base-culture that I grew up with. Now I'm just rambling.
The cats are done eating. Time to check my headphones and get going.
Maybe if I'm going to start making my own onigiri to snack on, I can start making my own pastries? Making my own snacks, instead of just eating chips and ice cream with the occasional slow roasted cut of meat. I am so bad at food. I heard this lady in the grocery store saying something about Friday is chicken night and thinking how comforting it must be to have a schedule like that, to make the decision once and that's it. But how do you set that schedule, how do you choose?
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cursedweedman · 8 months
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🕯️ xo
meme // accepting.
I keep having this dream.
The floors are covered in dead grass, and hay, and sawdust. And his arm wraps around my shoulder, a friend from another life. And he tells me, quietly, the nature of it all. They used me. I would've done anything for them, and it was chemically induced, it was a false loyalty. Sometimes I worry. Worry that I've made the wrong choices. But then I remember, that it's all just debris.
"You gotta pick up a real drunk," Johnny would tell me, "someone with nothing to lose, someone young," and the man would circle the chicken, covered in hair, eyes alight with mania, and grief, "see, you reel 'em in with booze," and he did. Jimmy recalled the bottle of whiskey, that's all it took to seal his fate, he had asked for beers, but Johnny had insisted this would be a better way to spend his hard-scrounged coin. "You tell 'em, I got a little job for you." And it was all there. A rucksack he wasn't supposed to look in, a gun he had to throw in the river. "But you spike it, the drink, their payment. And now, now, this, the bottle is what he thinks is heaven," and he remembered, through the haze, the way the older man cleaned his veins, and told him to enjoy it. It kicked. God, it kicked, like nothing he'd felt before, every fibre of his being, alive, dancing. "Enjoy it, kid," echoing in his mind, forever.
And then, the kicker. "I gotta get me someone who doesn't fuck around. Someone who knows how to pull the trigger."
And, all very suddenly, it's gone. You're left with the shakes, and the sweats, and your mind is screaming for something, and you don't know what. Your skin feels like it's turning inside out, your brain attempts to evacuate through the bone in your forehead, and it's all churned up, your mistakes, your failures, it's all there to torment you.
And in the freak show, in the dream, the crazed man makes a swipe, grabs the chicken by the neck, he rips it's head off, blood down his chin, sprays his face.
They used me. None of it was real.
Vern never made me do nothing.
And he's always there. In this dream. He walks over, real casual like, with a swagger about him, and he tells Johnny that he needs to fuck off, you know, the words themself shouldn't have sounded as pleasant as they did, but it was like Vern knew how to spin it, like he knew the exact cadence to speak those words for them to be unoffensive, passive, "hey man," he would say, softly, "would you fuck off?"
And it was like Johnny was swallowed by the dream, forgotten, lost to time. He was dead. Had his brains blown out by the Russians. It was the start of it all, and I was still bitter, because if it was up to me, I would still be doing heroin in that broom-closet, preserved in ice, or maybe I'd have died, of an overdose, or something grim like that. But, I dunno. Vern makes me glad I didn't fuck myself up. Vern's this raw dude I met, this guy that I know has my back, you know how rare that is, for a guy like me?
They all want something. They all need something, from me. Even in Alaska, I was the guy who dug the hole, I was the guy you went to if you have a problem, and the fact is, I got problems of my own. Vern understands that. And when I'm with him, sure, I'm still lost. But I'm lost because I chose it. I'm lost with him.
He wasn't my saviour. Not in real life. Sure, in that dream realm, he was a calming prescence. He didn't save me. I'm still damned. But it was good to be damned with someone. Good to feel alive. When I was with him, my partner in crime, blood flowed through my veins.
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chrisjake-cp · 3 years
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Chris Wu vs. the chickens (x.x)
I have never fallen in love as quickly as when Chris went up a mountain to shoot pics for his photobook and met a whole bunch of chickens along the way. And then came back down the mountain and talked to the chickens again. 
This is utterly adorable.  
鷄鷄們、拜拜!
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