#File ; Sylvia

[nico-necromancin]

guy who never draws digitally anymore: y'all look its malvia but in that one funny ship template

sidenote: partner saw the piece and said: "spectacular, now post it on tumblr"... so without their callout you would've never seen this xoxo

[kaijusmart]

death, murder, anime

[technovillain]

the specialest

[ackee]

it's getting crowded as hell in this clip file....

[mossandfern]

March 10th: Exhausted: is there ever a day otherwise.

— Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

[world-of-wales]

CATHERINE'S STYLE FILES - 2013

10 NOVEMBER 2013 || The Duchess of Cambridge attended the annual Remembrance Sunday Service at the Cenotaph in London along with Prince William and other members of the Royal Family.

[delicatepoets]

i love a lot of things….. but i love love

[vixlenxe]

I don't know if I've ever made it clear before, but all my vampire characters have different types & styles of fangs.

Void Heiress & Void Empress have the more gnarly looking ones. Where almost all of their teeth are pointed & are most suited for being used as weapons rather then simply drawing blood.

Mindy's & Sandor's are the same type as well, baring two fangs side-by-side at the top half of their mouths, with Mindy only also baring two smaller fangs of the same nature on the bottom half of her mouth. Again fangs that are more suited as weapons then just drawing blood.

Bellatrix, Chloe, & Zen have the standard two fangs at the top of their mouth. This is obviously the most common type of fangs one could have, made for drawing blood more so then for combative means, but still quite useful in that area. These fangs also show up in other character of mine that, while they aren't really vampires, they have some type of demonic or animalistic trait. Such as Ruse, Urla, Zolten, Amatsu, Gore Magala, Zero, Shuyi & Yala. Size varies among them, but for actual vampire, like Bellatrix, Chloe & Zen, they are typically bigger &/or longer.

Malzeno is a case where he has two types of fangs, for his dragon & human form. His dragon fangs are suited for inflecting damage, with noticeable space between his fangs that makes it easier to hold prey with a firm grip, as well as assuring for clean bite holes to draw blood.

For his human form, much of his teeth become like human teeth, save for four of them. Two at the top & two at the bottom are indeed fangs. Sylvia also has these types of fangs. Also idealize mostly for taking blood then being weapons, with the bottom fangs usually acting as a means of making sure the prey is secure in place.

[ariel-s-awesome]

The hate won today and I finally made everything I liked in the worst episode ever watchable <3

[steviesays]

Don’t eat Sylvia man she was so nice to you 😭

[spryfilm]

DVD review: “Joe 90” (1968 – 1969)

“Joe 90” (1968 – 1969)  Television / Sci-Fi Thirty Episodes Created by: Gerry and Sylvia Anderson Featuring: Keith Alexander, Sylvia Anderson, Rupert Davies, Gary Files, Len Jones, Martin King, David Healy, Jeremy Wilkin, Liz Morgan and Shane Rimmer Released recently on DVD is the 1970s science fiction series “Joe 90” (1968 – 1969), one of the many series created by Gerry and Sylvia…

[gavisuntiedboot]

We Can't Be Friends (but I'd like to just pretend)

Pedri x Stylist! Reader

Part 2

Warnings: None

Word count: 4.3K

A/N: Back with part 2! I'm warning y'all now - it's going to suck until it doesn't. Please bear with me. Also, I have included the links to both the shirts being sold for Gaza and the direct donation link. Please check them out! And if you can't donate yourself, I donate $1 for every watermelon comment under this post! So please make sure to share at the very least.

~~~

Being scolded was the worst feeling in the world. Well, actually, sleeping with a famous client and then having him immediately chase your coworker was the worst feeling in the world. But boy was this meeting with Katerina a close second.

“There needs to be a case study on this kid.” She muttered under hear breath as she moved sticky notes around the December calendar. She darted her eyes around her current configuration, before turning sour and looking up at you. The dark circles under her eyes had darkened a shade since you had seen her the previous week, and a twinge of guilt played against your sternum for contributing to her fatigue.

“Let’s go over some basic rules, my dear. First and foremost, you cannot block your client’s number.”

“But I-“ You began to protest, but your boss lifted one finger, silencing you instantly.

“I do not care. I do not care if he is a dick. I do not care if he is going to make my stylists kill each other. Honestly, that might be a blessing.  I do not care if he is the father to a litter of bastard children running barefoot around your home. You work for SDF. You work for Pedro Gonzalez. He will have access to your phone, your email, your address, hell your underwear size if he asks. Understood?”

You bit back the urge to protest, just nodding silently. She breathed in deeply before continuing.

“Second, you will not share his information with the other girls in the office. That includes his photoshoot timing, the PR being sent to him– anything. I’m tired of having to file reports to Milan about my girls fighting.”

The command was followed by another nod, this one more genuine. You had no intention of getting within 100 meters of either Tania or Sylvia, who were still not speaking but had also telepathically decided that you were a common enemy. You had been stepped on a suspicious number of times while collecting their pins from the floor, and you always caught them whispering to the other girls in the office about “la naranja podrida”. Didn’t take a detective to put those pieces together.

You were still in a state of agitation regarding the whole ordeal. In your fit of anger, you had done the mental calculations of how long it took Pedri to text another girl. He had left just as the sun was rising, so about 5:30 am. Google maps said you lived 25 minutes from the stadium, but he would have gone home first, because that’s where the damned boots and more damned note would have been. That brings us to 6 am to account for wherever the gremlin lives. By all your most optimistic estimates, he had waited at most a hour between leaving your bed and texting your coworker.

“Hey Silvia” was the text heard around the world. After the report (and a few hair samples) was filed away, a company-wide letter from HQ was sent out reminding employees of professional boundaries with clients. The giddiness and satisfaction that had come from a harmless prank had dissolved, leaving a queasy feeling in its wake. Day damn one. You lasted 4 hours before you crumpled like a convenience store receipt over a boy at work. Ignoring every caution sign, you dove head first into a pool of prospective romance - and promptly hit the concrete.

The worst part was that you couldn’t tell anyone. Bryce had responded to your gushing sonnets in the worst possible manner: with logic. You had brushed aside every one of her very appropriate questions, looking through your rose-tinted lenses at your life. You had gone as far as to tell her she was being a bad friend for trying to find any possible negative in this situation, causing her to pull back.

“I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.”

The words of her static-garbled voice memo never left your head. There you were, only a few hours later, stomach turned and heart shredded, completely and utterly hurt. And you weren’t ready to face the sting of “I told you so” that was waiting for you, so you just… never said anything else. When she asked about Pedri, you responded formally with his upcoming campaign schedule. Lucky for you that she was too busy with her own life to keep pestering.

The upside to the current tragedy in your life was that you were working in fashion. It was hard to cry when you spent hours upon hours looking at some of the most beautiful clothes in the world, getting full creative freedom to bring your visions to life. Not impossible, because there were definitely a couple of wet spots on the Margiela from yesterday, but harder. Barca Femini had been in and out of the office for fittings, and it was a relief to be able to work with something other than khaki trousers and blazers. There were seemingly hundreds of hangers carrying vintage sports pieces, colorful jackets, and silky skirts. It sparked little moments of happiness, knowing that you were so good at playing dress-up that now you were getting paid for it.

It had been a week since your unfortunate altercation, and though the evening (and unfortunate following morning) had never left you, it had seeped from the front of your mind to the base of your skull, a dull throb that could be ignored during the course of the day. That was, of course, until you received an email from Adidas.

~

"Okay, Pedri, I hate to be the one to break this to you, but this means you're blocked."

There was a snigger that floated through the lunch room that, had he been able to pinpoint the source, Pedri would have promptly quieted with a slap to the head. But it whizzed around like a gnat between some of the younger players.

"How could I be blocked, Fermin?" The question was met with a raised eyebrow from Fermin, who was mentally cursing his college education.

"Maybe it has something to do with you sleeping with her and then disappearing?" Gavi offered up that brilliant hypothesis between bites of grilled chicken.

"No, it couldn't be. She's American - they don't take sex so seriously. Besides, we just met! What was I supposed to do? Propose?"

Pedri resisted the urge to shrink back from the judgmental stares he was receiving. He was used to being questioned by Gavi, who believed in the "stare at her intensely until she falls for me and confesses" method of romance. But now that he had roped in Fermin (the most tech-savvy of the squad), he couldn't handle the intensity of the silent disapproval.

In all honesty, Pedri was tired of the emotional rollercoaster that had plagued the entire day. The previous night had been incredible. He wasn't quite sure what to expect when La Naranja stepped through her front door, but she surely exceeded expectations. Pedri believed he was happy in his normal routine: DM an Instagram model, engage in the little cat-and-mouse game where she pretended she wouldn't bend to his every will, and go back to her place for a decently fun time. But there was something about the way you walked, so coy and bashfully, looking up at him through delicate lashes with wide eyes, that warmed the most primal part of his being. His heart quickened at the sudden desire to chase, to capture, to consume. He wanted to protect this pretty little thing from the sharp eyes and sharper teeth of his friends. He was ready to savor everything you offered.

Over the course of the evening, the feeling gnawing at the inside of his chest became harder to ignore. The soft grip you maintained on his bicep to keep him close, the warmth of your fingertips searing his skin. He wanted to bark at Ferran to never look your way again. To sink his teeth into your neck, have you cry out his name so every man would know to never come near you again. Your hand, so delicate and soft in his own, maintained a firm grip as he dragged you out of the club, and a firmer grip on his hair once he was finally able to kiss you senseless. He felt like a wild animal unleashed in bed with, unable to slow or take pause. You were so hypnotizingly innocent, and he was going to destroy that.

The warmth in his chest remained till the following morning. As he kissed your cheek and whispered his goodbyes, he allowed himself to imagine what kind of arrangement the two of you could have. He was more than eager to feel the caress of your soft lips again. Maybe you would be open to picking up his late night calls, spending long, tedious days together talking and fucking and laughing at nothing in particular. He thought about the flush in your cheeks that would arise whenever he came into work, dropping subtle hints about your activities in the days before. He could really make you a permanent part of his rotation with little difficulty, facilitated further by the fact that you had been assigned as his personal stylist. Filthy as it may sound, he contemplated not showering upon his return home. He would have to later in the day following practice, but until he could secure a second audience with you in a bedroom, he wanted to savor the scent a little longer.

His front doorstep was littered with packages once again, about half from Adidas and the other from Springfield. He was not a designer by any means, but he appreciated that he was at least sent the collections that were meant to be his. Fer was sipping on a coffee when Pedri walked in, and expertly avoided ay questions of where he had been the previous night. He was a concerned older brother, but he was also a guest. He instead asked to see the piles of PR that his younger brother had hauled through the door.

"I don't understand why they bother sending you all this stuff. Why wouldn't they just send it to the styling team."

"Because I actually have to play in the boots, hermano." Pedri said, lifting the lid off his newest pair. He was excited for another Adidas campaign, or any campaign really that would bring him closer to you once again. Oh how he wished he could have captured the way you looked in that dress forever, immortalized it in an oil painting and hung it on his wall (right beside the ripped remains of the dress, which he so desperately wanted to destroy). His daydream had been broken by a crisp white envelope contrasted against the bright orange of the boots. There was a feminine wave of scent in the air, and the heart pumping in his ears drowned out the sounds of his brother’s whistles and taunts. Had you done this? Had you been planning ahead to send him a note had he neglected to ask you out while at the office?

He tensed his forearms to disguise a slight tremble, ripping open the envelope and scanning the page only to find-

“Ay dios mío. Silvia.” He allowed his head to thud against the counter, Fer’s tittering laugh clear as a bell now.

“Is she the scary one or the weird one?” His brother asked, prying the crumpled letter from Pedri’s dejected form.

“Both are fitting adjectives. She’s the shorter one with the silver hair. She kind of looks like our Tia Marisol?”

Another tittering of laugher, and this time Pedri joined in with a cracked smile of his own.

“She wants to tell you how much she admires you, how much you make her … quiver? Ew.” Fer squinted at the note further.

“Listen to this line. Ehem: ‘I am ready to serve you, worship you, give you my body and soul because I love you.”

Pedri groaned so loudly he was sure the neighbors heard. Honestly, what were these girls thinking?? That he would start blushing and giggling at the mention that they would sleep with him? That was the least most girls would do. It turned his stomach, constantly fearing that he would be trapped with a child.

“Let me text this girl. I have to go in next week and I don’t want her bent over a table spread and waiting when I arrive.”

He typed in the number on the note, drafting a long text before deleting everything but the “Hey Silvia” at the top.

“It’s too forceful to say ‘hey I don’t want to fuck you’ right off the bat, no?”

He hit send, reluctantly heading off to shower away his escapades before he went into training, waiting for a reply before he asked not to receive any more erotic letters from his stylists. Oh how he wished she hadn’t.

~

“So run us through it one more time.” Gavi said, Ferran deciding to stifle his groan. The last thing he needed was to enrage Gavi further, as he suspected it would result in him finally getting the punch that was coming to him. Ansu and Fermin were nodding along vigorously, eager to hear all about Pedri’s first experience having feelings.

“We went out, we fucked-“

“Pedri!”

He rolled his eyes at the indignation from the boys. Kids these days.

“Okay. We went out, we had a magical lovemaking experience, and then I had to come to training. I texted her about her being my stylist to ya know break the ice. And I found myself in deep shit and promptly blocked on like everything.”

“I think your first mistake,” said Fermin, “was not texting her about last night. Why would you start with her working for you?"

Pedri dragged his hand down his face in frustration.

"What was I supposed to say? Good morning linda, great pussy last night?"

Gavi stood promptly with his hands up, leaving the room.

"I don't want to hear about another girl's vagina."

"Yes," Ferran muttered, "God forbid he cheat on his crush by listening to a story."

"Whatever happened to 'Hey, I had fun last night'? Is that not a normal thing to say?" Ansu asked, as shaken as Gavi but remaining planted by his desire to be in the loop.

"I think my agent is texting SDF to get her to unblock me. Not super easy to talk to my stylist if I have to do so through messenger pigeon. Where did Gavi go?"

Pedri followed his friend out of the locker room, watching as Gavi stared dejectedly at the Doctora’s office.

“Are you done moping?” Pedri asked, clapping him on the shoulder.

“No. She might lose her job and we play her stupid boyfriend’s team tomorrow. I just want to keep her safe from that asshole.”

For a minute, something sparked in Pedri’s chest. Was that jealousy? He had never before felt that there was something missing in his life, content with being surrounded by friends and family and teammates. But there was something about watching Gavi pine, listening to the way he spoke of this girl, and it caused him an ache. He was in awe of this foreign spectacle: loving someone so deeply, so intensely, that it led to begging for crumbs of their time and attention. He almost wished to be in the Doctora's position, always having someone waiting around the corner for him.

"I have a styling meeting today. Do you want to come and keep me company?"

~

"Naranja, the bastard is here."

You didn't even lift your head when Maria informed you of the arrival of your client. You had worn all black to mourn the death of your self esteem, prepared to ass-kiss as much as needed to preserve your job. Unfortunately, it was difficult to push down the burning rage in the pit of your stomach when you had to kiss the ass of the man who has hurt you so intensely.

Pedri strolled into the room clad in the ugliest jeans known to man, his doe-eyed teammate (Gavin?) trailing behind him. At least the littler one knew how to dress. He was in baggy jeans and an Amie Paris t-shirt, clean sneakers in the same shade of blue as his top. Pedri, on the other hand, was an abomination. His black hoodie was far too baggy on his frame, making him look somewhat inflated. It was made worse by the tight and ribbed denim hugging the (admittedly stunning) legs that ended suddenly in some chunky clompers.

"Good morning, Naranja."

God. Even the sound of his voice was like swallowing razor blades. You wished that you could hear the lilt in his speech without remembering the soft whispers against the column of your throat, guiding you to ecstasy at his command. The way that he encouraged you, coaxed the gentle sighs and high moans with just an ask.

"Let me hear you, pretty girl."

And who were you to deny? But now, looking at his soft eyes and confident stance, you wish you had resisted. Pretended you didn't speak Spanish that first godforsaken day in this office.

"Good morning Pedro."

A stifled laugh and wide eyes from the boy behind Pedri (God what was his name? Gustavo?). Pedri's shoulders had dropped significantly, his thick brows coming together in confusion.

"No one calls me Pedro. Not even my mother."

"Well, maybe it's a good time for you to learn what disappointment feels like. Especially since you're so comfortable giving it out to others. Do you have your boots?"

You could tell Pedri was lost for words, and it caused you a mild spark of satisfaction. You had spent the last week boiling silently, unable to unleash all the rage simmering in your chest. He nodded silently, pulling the box out of his bag.

"Great. Gabriel, there is a coffee shop on the second floor if you want to grab a drink while I'm fitting Pedro. I'm sure you've seen him naked plenty of times but-"

"No, no, I'll go. Would you like anything?"

After shaking your head, he exited the room, and you began frantically grabbing different sweat pants and shirts for Pedri to put on.

"His name is Gavi by the way." Pedri said to break the silence, and you turned so he could strip off his shirt.

"Come on, Naranja. Don't pretend you haven't see it already." He smiled somewhat earnestly, softer than he did at the other girls. You were a gentle thing, and he wanted to be gentle with you.

"How many other girls in this office have seen it as well, Pedro?" You asked with as much venom as you could muster, turning to face him and eyes locking as he unzipped his jeans.

"You think that sleeping with me is a company welcome gift, Naranja?"

"That's not my name."

"And Pedro isn't mine. But if you want to poke at me, I'll poke at you right back."

He was now in only his boxers and his socks, and it took everything within you not to glance downwards, a reminder of the sight from one week and one night ago. He took a defiant step forward, the heat radiating off his body.

"You know, Pedro," You began, steadying your voice. "Texting my coworker mere minutes after leaving my bed is a sin on it's own."

"Wait, what? Hold on-"

"But in those mere hours of bliss, I googled you. Looked at your name on Twitter. Saw who you were. And you're just another slimy athlete that uses girls and throws them away."

Your face broke when you heard him laugh loudly at the revelation. It made you angry, expecting him to feel ashamed of his behavior.

"I despise miscommunication, Naranja. So don't go jumping to conclusions and acting foolish. Your coworker sent me a letter essentially begging to fuck me, but I suspect you knew that already. Hell, you might have even been the one to switch the names around."

Your cheeks grew warmer, and a part of your brain registered that Gavi was now lingering in the doorway.

"But beyond that, linda, is that I was texting her to say I wasn't interested." He began dressing, joggers defining his legs in a way acid-washed denim never could. "But I don't like being judged based on rumors on Twitter. I want to be your friend-"

"Again with that word!" The outrage was finally seeping from you, and now that the lid had come off there was no containing it.

"How am I meant to be your friend, Pedro? You hit on me, you sleep with me, and then you moved on to the next girl. How am I supposed to be your friend after everything you've put me through?"

"What did you expect of me exactly?" He shoved his shirt over his head, a sweet bit of relief in a tense situation. "I like you, Naranja. More than a lot of other girls I've met. And I want to keep seeing you," he let his eyes burn a path down your body, "as a little more than a friend. If that's something you're into."

You took a step back, hand over your chest in shock. Did this man just ask you to be a friend with benefits, mere minutes after you asserted your disgust for his very being.

"You must think so highly of yourself." You couldn't raise your voice out of fear of it cracking. Just how much had you deluded yourself into thinking you found something special?

"I don't actually," there was a tone of laughter in his voice, "quite the opposite actually." There was suddenly not enough air between you. You simultaneously wished someone would interrupt you and that the moment would last forever.

"You're a sweet girl, Naranja. Too sweet for someone like me. I know who I am and what I want, and a girlfriend is not on that list currently."

"So what? I'm good enough for you to fuck and not to date?" You asked, the question heavy between the two of you. He remained silent, lips unmoving, the wheels turning behind deep chocolate eyes.

"I like you enough not to want to hurt you, Naranja. So, what do you say? Friends?"

"Go fuck yourself, Pedro."

~

The high pitched noise of the camera going off repeatedly was starting to get to your head. You leaned against the wall, rubbing at your temples to try and stave off the impending migraine. You opened your eyes briefly to see Gavi also leaning against the wall, gnawing on his lip and staring at his phone. Propelled by boredom, you shifted slowly along the wall to peak at what he was doing, desperate for any form of entertainment.

Thank God for the lack of Gavi's vertical blessing. A quick peek revealed that he wasn't actually typing any words, only rereading text from a contact that was saved as...

"Holy shit are you fucking your doctor?" You asked, probably a little louder than appropriate.

His eyes went wide as frying pans and he began to go visibly red. He started babbling out denials, explaining that the two of them were just friends.

"I mean she has a boyfriend and even if she didn't she would never go for me because she's so much older than me and cooler than me and she's way out of my league but all I want to do is keep her safe and make her happy and-"

His brain finally caught up to the words he was letting loose, and he abruptly suspended his word vomit.

"Does she know that you like her?" You asked, back against the wall, shoulder to shoulder with Gavi.

"God, I hope not. I don't want to do anything to make her life harder than it already is."

"Maybe telling her how you feel will make it easier. Maybe she feels the same."

"Yeah," he sighed deeply, looking wistfully at his phone again, "That's what Pedri keeps telling me."

The disgust was evident on your features. "I wouldn't really take Pedri's relationship advice."

"Now now, turning my best friend against me because you want me is a little extreme, Naranja." The voice behind you was too much to bear.

"Someone needs to give your best friend advice on how to not transform into a heartless user."

"Ironic. I remember one of us chanting 'use me, use me, use me' just last week." The response died in your mouth as Pedri's publicist approached. Where did this guy get off? Even if you believed his bullshit excuse about not wanting to fuck Silvia, the teen drama explanation as to why he doesn't "do" relationships compensated plenty.

"Alright you crazy kids! Ready to go shopping?" You spun around so quickly that you almost smacked Gavi with your hair.

"I beg your pardon? I am a stylist, not a personal shopper. I get pieces sent to me."

That was the truth. You weren't in charge or brand relations, and the purchasing department was an impenetrable fortress. Each week, a soulless intern wheeled a rack into the room, and you worked with what you were given. You had several ideas for how you could modernize some of these stuffy athletes, but that wasn't your place. Not yet anyways.

"Yes, of course. But we are redoing Pedri's wardrobe entirely. We have received communication from the team that his tunnel outfits are - what was the official wording? Oh yes, 'a detriment to the team's public image and an offense to the eyes of culers globally'. Springfield have also asked us to film some content during the journey."

"I don't think this is really part of Naranja's job description."

Of course Pedri was the one undermining you. Of course it was his voice speaking out only to call you incapable. You forced on your biggest smile, turning to face the agent directly.

"Oh, there's no issue at all. It would be an honor to makeover Spain's worst looking footballer."

~~~

Okay end of part 2!! I have decided that I want to post more frequent, smaller parts for this story rather than giant updates every three months. Please let me know what you think in the comments and in my ask box, and potentially where you want this dynamic to go! Thanks cutes xoxo gavisuntiedboot <3

(also if you would like to be on the taglist for this story, pls lmk!!)

Taglist:

@girlidekanymore

[pupsmailbox]

DECTECTIVE︰MYSTERY ID PACK

NAMES ⌇ adler. aeris. agatha. aiden. aisha. akakios. alec. alistair. amadio. amos. anastasia. andie. annika. ansel. arden. ariel. aspen. atlas. auda. audr. august. augustine. augustus. aventurine. avery. barett. beau. belladonna. benedict. bentey. bentley. bian. blanc. blythe. bonaventura. bradley. briony. buenaventura. calix. caper. casey. castle. cebba. chance. chanceline. chancey. charis. chase. cipher. claude. cleo. cliff. clu. clue. clyde. colette. columbus. conan. constance. cora. corbin. cypher. daley. dalton. damon. daphne. darcie. darcy. darnell. darwin. dean. deanna. declan. dee. delia. devin. dex. dice. dot. dottie. doyle. duncan. edith. edmund. edric. edward. eivor. elmer. elysium. enigma. fog. fortuna. fortune. foxglove. gizem. godid. hannah. harley. harlow. harper. haze. holmes. indigo. iris. juke. jules. kasper. keme. king. leto. lilith. liraz. locke. maya. mist. morana. myst. mystery. nancy. neil. noir. noire. obscure. odilia. onni. ophelia. ortun. otto. pandora. poe. poirot. quinn. river. rivers. runa. rune. runfrid. sam. scarlet. selma. sher. sherlock. silver. sitheach. spy. sylvi. sylvia. tec. tyche. tychon. veil. veila. velma. vera. verity. vesper. vesta. watson. widow. wisteria. zero.

PRONOUNS ⌇ analyze/analyze. book/book. caper/caper. case/case. chance/chance. cipher/cipher. claw/claw. clu/clue. clue/clue. code/code. crime/crime. crime/scene. cypher/cypher. deal/deal. detect/detect. detect/detective. detective/detective. en/en. end/end. enigma/enigma. evidence/evidence. eye/eye. fate/fate. file/file. find/find. flaw/flaw. game/game. glass/glasse. grit/git. hidden/hidden. hide/hide. hint/hint. hunt/hunt. hypo/hypothesi. inv/investigate. invest/investigate. investigate/investigate. it/it. justice/justice. lore/lore. luck/luck. magni/magnifying. magnifying/glas. murder/murder. mys/mystery. myst/myst. myst/mystery. mystery/mysterie. mystery/mystery. noir/noir. note/note. obscure/obscure. per/perplex. poi/poison. private/private. psych/psych. puz/puzzle. puzz/puzzle. puzzle/puzzle. que/question. read/read. rid/riddle. rob/rob. rob/robbery. rpg/rpg. scene/scene. search/search. search/searche. sec/secret. secret/secret. see/see. seek/seek. sight/sight. sleu/sleuth sleuth/sleuth. sol/solution. sol/solve. solution/solution. solve/solve. spot/spot. spy/spy. stake/out. stake/stake. step/step. stole/stolen. story/storie. tape/tape. thon/thon. threat/threat. track/track. watch/watche. ⚰️ . ❓ . 🎭 . 🎮 . 🐦‍⬛ . 💉 . 💊 . 💡 . 📁 . 📖 . 📚 . 📹 . 🔎 . 🔐 . 🔑 . 🕹️ . 🗃️ . 🗝️ . 🗞️ . 🚬 . 🧩 . 🧬 . 🩺 .

[l-just-want-to-see]

Jason (from the Greek Iásōn, “healer”) Peter Todd (from the German Tod, “death”) - I hope you find your way out of that grave.

dc comics + The Oresteia, Aeschylus / Lady Windermere’s Fan, Oscar Wilde / Grief Lessons: Four Plays [tr. Anne Carson], Euripides + Batman v1 #385 / Batman: The Cult #3 / For Example, Mary Oliver / Batman: Legends of The Dark Knight #100 / Batman: Under the Red Hood / Eight, Sleeping at Last / Red Hood and the Outlaws: Rebirth / Batman: Urban Legends #10 + ? / On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Vuong / Red Hood and The Outlaws #25 / Slay the Princess / pinterest + Batman #422 / Batman #424 + Rilke's Book of Hours: Love Poems to God, Rainer Maria Rilke + Batman #428 | A Death in the Family / @/metamorphesque, tumblr / American Teenager, Ethel Cain / Anecdote of the Pig, Tory Adkisson / interpretations of A Death in the Family + The Oresteia, Aeschylus / Nightwing: Secret Files and Origins #1 + the Haunting of Bly Manor + Red Hood and the Outlaws #23 / @/petrichara, tumblr / I Didn't Apologize to the Well, Mahmoud Darwish / Infinite Crisis: Secret Files + pinterest / Ruin and Rising, Leigh Bardugo / Red Hood and the Outlaws #26 / The Cruel Prince, Holly Black / pinterest / Red Hood: The Lost Days / Sue Zhao / Red Hood: The Lost Days part II + Red Hood: The Lost Days #4 / I See Boats Moving, Fernando Pessoa / Oedipus the King, TV Tropes / @/devilsmoon, tumblr / Red Hood: The Lost Days + Speeches for Dr Frankenstein, Margaret Atwood / Saving June, Hannah Arrington + embroidered patch / Slay the Princess / unaligned, @/hamletmaschine + Batman: Under the Red Hood / Batman: Under the Red Hood + Batman and Robin #11 + South and West: From a Notebook, Joan Didion / The Good Fight, Ada Limón / Batman: Under the Red Hood / Grief Lessons: Four Plays, Euripides [tr. Anne Carson] / Batman: Under the Red Hood / Slay the Princess / Under the Red Hood / Slay the Princess / @/sainticide, twitter / The Truth About Grief, Fortesa Latifi + Batman: Under the Red Hood / Batman: Under the Red Hood / Ten Legs, Eight Broken, mandana on tiktok / War of the Foxes, Richard Siken + Under the Red Hood + Batman #428 | A Death in the Family / The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath, Sylvia Plath / Under the Red Hood + Batman #428 | A Death in the Family / @baitmeat, tumblr + Batman: Under the Red Hood (Deluxe Edition) / Origin Story, Desireé Dallagiacomo / Vive, Vive, Traci Brimhall / The Dogs I Have Kissed, Trista Mateer + Batman: Under the Red Hood + Three Jokers / Red Hood and the Outlaws Rebirth #9 / @/sainticide, twitter + Red Hood and the Outlaws #10 / Would’ve, Could’ve, Should’ve, Taylor Swift / ? + Robin 80th Anniversary 100 Page Super Spectacular / Ep. 4: Joseph Campbell and the Power of Myth -- 'Sacrifice and Bliss', Joseph Campbell / White Knight #7 + Heaven, Mieko Kawakami / Forest Fire, Mitski / Red Hood and the Outlaws Vol. 2 #9 + Batman Annual #25 + Free Will Astrology, Rob Brezsny / Letter XV, @/lucidloving / Red Hood and the Outlaws Vol 1: REDemption / briscoepark + The Civil War, Anne Sexton [compiled by @/lovejoyparadox here] / @/soapstore, tumblr + I Await the Devil’s Coming, Mary MacLane + Claire C. Holland / @/havingrevelations, tumblr / Meditations in an Emergency, Cameron Awkward-Rich + Deathstroke #34 / Grief Lessons: Four Plays by Euripides [tr. Anne Carson] + Red Hood and the Outlaws

[prosperousduckscommuteviawaffle]

Now we’ve had this bi-generation I just think we should go full unhinged and have gold tooth turn into Simm Master. Have a full ‘why has this face returned?’ parallel. Shove him into retired life with Tennant’s doctor. Scale down their enmity to absolutely microscopic proportions. From cosmic scale to just domestic life. Have the Nobles stuck in the front row watching them sort their shit out.

I want them trying to survive Sylvia Noble together. I want them at war with their neighbours. I want them battling with the chaos of Evri deliveries - ‘not even the TARDIS can locate the safe place they’ve apparently left it in’. Have them arguing in Tesco over whether it really matters whether eggs are free range. They can make up by getting their own chickens which The Master can regularly threaten to roast much to Rose’s horror (but he won’t because he named them after the Teletubbies and The Doctor knows he’d never hurt Tinky Winky, Dipsy, Laa-Laa or Po… and he just enjoys having dominion over lesser creatures or something 🙄)

I want aliens turning up for their regularly scheduled fuck with London at Christmas time moment only to be faced with the two of them in their matching Noble family Christmas jumpers (and they will be wearing them because have you met Donna?) And no, The Master hasn’t gone soft, he doesn’t care about Earth in general, but the Strictly final is on and he’s a little invested in that.

I want Donna, in her new UNIT job, explaining this to her new colleagues. Because they know The Doctor and The Master, they’ve seen the files, and they just…live in her garden now.

[the-magiarcheologist]

The Forgotten Witch

Let me tell you the tale of the Forgotten Witch.

Chapter 1: The Prophecy

First of all, do you know Sylvia Pembroke? She is a seer in one of the portraits in the Grand Staircase.

Throughout the game she makes different prophecies that foreshadow events in the game:

"Ancient secrets bring forth an age of magic with the rise of a new hero."

This one is about the whole plot of the game.

"I can sense someone close to you needs your help. Someone with the initial "S"."

That one is obviously about Sebastian.

"When what was lost has been found, the brother's betrayal will turn the tides of war."

That's when Lodgok finds the last of Bragbor's journal and tries to bring it to the MC. Ranrok discovers that he betrayed him, takes the journal and kills him. And by getting hold of the last journal this turns the tides of the war since Ranrok now knows where to find the last repository.

"When mentor and student collide a path must be chosen."

I think that one is about the final choice of the player, whether we follow the path of the Keepers and keep the repository closed and secret or we follow Isidora's path and try to use the ancient magic in the repository.

I think all of her prophecies can be explained by event in the game. And then there is this prophecy:

"When the forgotten one's true power is revealed bonds of trust will be broken."

And for this one, I couldn't think of a straighforward, obvious interpretation for it. And trying to find out who exactly this "forgotten one" is has lead me down quite the rabbit hole...

Now, the first thought is: the forgotten one must be Isidora. After all, all mentions and memories of her have been erased by the Keepers. What is her "true power" then? It could be her ability to rid people of their pain. And what about the bonds of trust that are broken? That's where it all starts to break down. The MC learns of Isidora's "true power" through the Keepers memories, there is no big revelation about Isidora that causes MC to loose trust in the Keepers or Fig or anyone else, really.

Someone on reddit had another interpretation. They believed the "bonds of trust" that were broken were between Rookwood and Ranrok. When Rookwood discovered what the repositories they were looking for really were (Isidora's "true power") and what Ranrok intended to use them for the fragile alliance between Rookwood and Ranrok shattered ("broken bonds of trust"). But rewatching the scene in the mine when Ranrok takes bragbor's last journal I think it's pretty clear that Rookwood realizes that his alliance with Ranrok is over the moment he understands that Ranrok has now found the location of the last repository. He realizes then that he has lost all of his usefullness to Ranrok and that the tentative partnership they had is over. Hence why he tries to kill Ranrok right after (before Ranrok can try to kill him). I don't think any "bonds of trust" are broken here because there was no trust to begin with and there is no revelation of a "true power". Rookwood already knew they were searching for repositories of ancient magic.

But thinking along the same lines, maybe the broken bonds of trust could be between Sebastian and MC when Sebastian realizes that Isidora could use ancient magic to cure people of their pain (the "true power" that is revealed) and yet MC refuses to ask the Keepers about that power or refuses to use it to cure Anne. But I think that is stretching it. Even though MC and Sebastian have a little fight about this I hardly think that you could say that "bonds of trust" are broken.

So maybe we should go right back to the beguining. Maybe the "forgotten one" is not Isidora but someone else entirely...

Chapter 2: The Statue

How do you go about discovering the identity of someone who was forgotten? You go search through the game files for clues of course!

And low and behold, there is an asset called "ForgottenStatue", could it be related to our "forgotten one"?

I think the name of this particular asset is quite significant. Usually any asset in the game is identified with a letter. There are plenty of assets called "SmallStatue_A", "SmallStatue_B", "WallPlaque_D", etc. Few assets are given actual names like this.

And besides, don't you recognize this statue? It's the statue that is standing in the alcove by the water in the transfiguration courtyard!

It's the statue that Prof. Ronen had us repair at the very beguining of the game after learning reparo. Prof. Ronen says this statue alledgedly represents heartbreak and that perhaps a jilted lover, seing it and finding it too accurate, could have lashed out and destroyed it. But maybe that is not the full story. Maybe there is another reason it was destroyed, perhaps so that no one could ever recognize this statue and find anything out about the witch it represents.

So here we have a statue of a forgotten witch. No one really knows for sure who she is, what the statue represents. Looking at the clothing that she is wearing, it seems that she is from really ancient times (could be ancient greece, could be ancient rome,...) and alledgedly she had her heart broken at some point.

Chapter 3: The Dagger

The statue is not the only thing I found in the game files. There is also a very interesting asset called "SM_Evil_ForgottenWitch_Dagger". Again, note how this asset has an actual name (as opposed to just "SM_Dagger_A") and also that it is even labelled as "Evil".

Sorry for the image being so dark but I really wanted to show how the rune on the dagger is glowing. From what I can understand by looking at other in-game assets, the glow we see on the rune means there will be some VFX applied to it in game. So obviously, the rune etched into the dagger is significant somehow. The dagger is also very ornate. And, because it is labelled as "Evil", we can deduce that it is some king of artifact used for dark magic.

The gives us some new information about our "forgotten one". First of all it seems that she is a witch (that is also consistent with the "Forgotten Statue" that is of a woman) and she practised the dark arts. Could this be what her "true power" is? Some secret form of dark magic?

For the longest time I thought that this dagger was just part of some cut content, that it was not used in the game. Until someone found this exact dagger in a the middle of a standing stone circle near Marunweem Lake!

They also identified the rune on it as Mannaz rune. It's an Elder Futhark rune meaning 'mankind'. Elder Furthar dates back to the first century which is coherent with the type of dress of the forgotten statue. These runes also apparently had deep spiritual significance. Mannaz represents humanity, community and cooperation. It could also represent intelligence, mind and memory.

I went and found the dagger in-game myself.

It's in the middle of standing stones on a flat circluar stone engraved with some weird symbols reminiscent of alchemy symbols. Also note the human skeleton that could hint at some dark ritual maybe involving a sacrifice.

I don't know if there are other places like this one elsewhere in Hogwarts Valley where we can also find the dagger. I have not found any yet but let me know if you have!

But there's more! In the game files, the asset for the dagger is found within the folder of props for "Sanctum_Dungeons". These are any dungeons related to ancient magic (like the keeper trials). So, how exactly is this dagger related to ancient magic and the Keepers?

Chapter 4: Ancient Magic

There is yet another place where the "ForgottenWitch" appreas within the game files. There are assets for stone columns used to build the environments for the ancient magic dungeons which are the Keeper trials, the place below the restricted section when we find the book and the cave we go to with Richard Jackdaw to find the missing pages and get access to the Map Chamber.

First there is a set of assets called "SM_SanctumDun_Column_Natural" which look like stone swirls.

Then there is a set of assets called "SM_SanctumDun_ColumnFlair_Forgotten_Witch" which look a little more ornate with some developped "spikes" (sort of looking like thorns on the stem of a rose) but still made of stone.

And lastly, there is a set of assets called "SM_SanctumDun_ColumnFlair_Keepers" that are even more ornate and detailed with spikes and some sort of tendrils. These columns also glow (again I believe indicating some VFX being applied to it). There are also some gold trims that can be added.

To me, this looks like some kind of evolution of art style or archetictural style over time. As the technique is developped over the centuries (from 'Natural stone' to the work of the Forgotten Witch in antiquity and to the work of the Keepers in the late middle ages), more and more ornate designs are made possible.

I believe the "Forgotten Witch" could wield ancient magic. Like we see the Keepers do, she used ancient magic back in antiquity to transfigure the world around her, build elaborate colums. But then she also used her ancient magic for some dark purpose. This is the "true power" that the profecy refers to. What about the bonds of trust that are broken, then? I believe the events of this particular prophecy have not happened yet. Someone (and lets be honest, it's probably the Keepers because they are the only ones who seem to know anything about ancient magic) knows about this Forgotten Witch and the dark magic she used but they kept that secret from the MC. And when this secret is finally revealed, uncovering a dark history of ancient magic, the bonds of trust between MC and the Keepers will be broken.

After all, Isidora herself, another forgotten witch, could have left us a warning when she wrote on the wall of the Undercroft: "Percival is hiding somehing".