#toms run preserve

[vandaliatraveler]

Late October morning at Toms Run Preserve.

[mysterycitrus]

I'm not sure if you've already answered something like this, but what are your reasons for disliking Tom Taylor?

I haven't read everything of his regarding the Titans and Dick but I don't really like what I've seen so far. I was excited at first with the current Titans run, etc. But that excitement has faded away.

What I don't like that is hard to put into words is his writing seems to reflect that he doesn't really understand the characters that he's writing, AND he seems to prefer Dick with Babs instead of Kory.

But what are your thoughts on Tom Taylor's writing?

in a nutshell — tom taylor is a fundamentally incurious person who writes comics to go viral on twitter. there’s no tangible substance in what he writes aside from moments of unearned toothless fluff, he isn’t interested in preserving legacy relationships or characterisation, and he lauds himself as a champion of representation while blocking those from marginalised communities who critique his works for being harmful or otherwise inaccurate.

his writing on nightwing reinvented dick grayson as a spineless, inoffensive character with almost no conviction. babs gordon has been removed from oracle entirely and exists as his girlfriend who lovingly banters with him but otherwise possesses no personal stance on any issue. his portrayal of bludhaven is devoid of its grit, style, or culture. dick’s ability to perform basic tasks as a hero — solving cases on his own, any degree of instinct or self preservation, acting like an adult — is notably absent. his chip about kory manifests in strongarming babs into being dicks one true love — something that defies existing canon and harms both of their existing relationships with other characters.

his writing on titans pisses me off even more, because now he has a wide cast of established characters that he can water down into stereotypes, flat characterisation lifted out of the cartoon, and bad politics. raven is basically a non-character who exists to be bb’s girlfriend. roy is totally absent. kory is underwritten. donna is flat and lifeless. the dynamics of the group are totally off. the decisions they make are bad, and because he’s established dick as a dunce i don’t understand why anyone would sincerely trust him to lead this group.

the issue is that there are no stakes. taylor’s liberalism allows for surface-level representation with no substance and no personality. why should i care that superman is bi if said superman decides to hug space-hitler instead of fighting him? why would i care that dick grayson is back in bludhaven if every character around him exists to support his new, inferior storytelling? taylor does not appear interested in improving his craft or actually collaborating with the people he claims to represent. there is no compassion, no sincere interest in nuanced storytelling. only window dressing with shiny cover art by dan mora

[forestdeath1]

Regulus wasn't forced by his parents to join the Death Eaters

What do we know about the Black family? I'll write a post about this because there's quite a bit we know if we read the canon in depth.

But the main point for this post is that for the Blacks, the survival and prosperity of their lineage were critically important.

The survival of their surname was in a precarious state at that time because women did not keep their surname nor pass it on to their children. Only two people could continue the line – Sirius and Regulus.

Preserving their lineage was so crucial for the Blacks that they didn't officially disown Sirius after his escape, or they reinstated him after Regulus's death. Because Sirius was the last Black. The last one who could carry on their line. Even if he was a rebellious Gryffindor who liked "mudbloods," he was still a Black.

When Sirius died, even the portrait was upset, although it's not alive. It's simply a reflection of the Blacks' attitude towards the survival of their lineage.

Am I to understand,’ said Phineas Nigellus slowly from Harry’s left, ‘that my great-great-grandson – the last of the Blacks – is dead?’

‘Yes, Phineas,’ said Dumbledore.
‘I don’t believe it,’ said Phineas brusquely.
Harry turned his head in time to see Phineas marching out of his portrait and knew that he had gone to visit his other painting in Grimmauld Place. He would walk, perhaps, from portrait to portrait, calling for Sirius through the house ...

By the time Regulus was 16, Sirius had already run away from home.

Now, explain to me, all you fans of the "Regulus was forced" idea, what would be going through Orion and Walburga's heads to make them push their last hope for the continuation of their lineage into joining a combat organization where people are constantly being killed?

Considering they didn't join themselves because they disliked the methods and probably understood Tom's real goals.

Walburga was in school with Tom Riddle and was two years older than him. Orion Black was also in school with Tom, but he was two years younger. By that time, Tom Riddle aka Voldemort, hadn't yet changed his appearance to the point of being unrecognizable. They all knew who Voldemort was. Tom Riddle. An orphan boy. Likely, they knew he was the heir of Slytherin, which was important for the Blacks because, for them, it wasn't about money but about blood. True nobility and dignity are in the blood, not wealth. The Blacks aren't the Malfoys. And as Sirius said, at some point, they were inspired by Tom's ambition to change the situation in their country, although Sirius obviously knew very little about Voldemort, as he was hardly discussed in front of the children. But initially, the Blacks were inspired because he was worthy, the heir of Slytherin, right?

Probably Orion, Arcturus/Pollux realized that Tom didn't care about blood purity. He cared about his own power. By the time they understood this, Tom's power was already too strong, and he had won much support among the pure-blood society, who believed he genuinely cared about pure-blood wizards.

Why did Sirius say he was sure their parents were proud of Regulus?

Because most likely, not both parents were proud, as Sirius doesn't mention the father at all, and Walburga had an irrational desire to see her son as a hero. Sirius – the lineage's continuer, and Regulus – a brave and courageous warrior for blood purity. Because being a Death Eater was seen as brave and cool. They were revolutionaries. Chosen warriors.

Moreover, Bella was already in the organization and could influence Walburga's opinion against Orion and Arcturus's wishes. Playing on Walburga's emotional irrationality wasn't very hard, especially for Bella and Rodolphus.

Bella was in love with Voldemort. Rodolphus was devoted to Voldemort from the start, as Lestrange Sr. had been a supporter of Tom since their school days. The Rosiers fall into the same group. Surprise, surprise, Bella's mother – Druella Rosier, was likely the sister of that very Rosier who was with Tom from the start and who was Evan Rosier's father. Cygnus Black is open for interpretation, but my headcanon is that from a young age, he was a bit more aggressive than the others and didn't quite fit into the family dynamics and control (and Bella took after him in part).

Who convinced Regulus to join the organization, even knowing Orion and the Blacks were against it?

From the little we know about Regulus, it's clear he was a maximalist inclined to broad "heroic" actions, with his own understanding of honor. He had been committed to the idea of blood purity from childhood, believing it to be truly noble and important. He wanted to be a hero and admired Voldemort. Also, always being second to Sirius, he wanted to prove his worth. That he too was strong and brave and capable of significant, but correct actions. And, our beloved Bella was there. She helped him join the organization at 16.

If you want tragedy in Regulus Black's story, here it is:

Regulus Black went to his death knowing he was the last of the Blacks. He destroyed his family. His lineage. Put an end to it. Even for Sirius, running away was easier because Regulus was still there. When Regulus went to his death, Sirius had already run away from home.

There's much more interesting stuff here than "Regulus was forced." But who cares, right? Fuck canon, live fanon.

[writeforfandoms]

Island 2

Find the series masterlist

More conversations are had, plans are made, and you all make a run for another drop. Of course, things don't always go smoothly.

Warnings: Swearing, intense emotions, reader has Issues, canon typical violence, shooting at dinosaurs, blood, death (dinosaurs only), playing fast and loose with Ark mechanics.

Word count: 2.5k

Eventual Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x f!reader

All four of them helped you carry in the meat and berries, and you showed them where you kept everything. It took longer to pluck the dodos, leaving the feathers in a large basket. Gaz took over that for you, and you stood in the middle of the house for a minute, hands on your hips. 

“Taming really isn’t a day two topic,” you said, shaking your head a little. “But. Oh well.” You breathed in deep, fingers tapping against your hip. “Obviously you lot have seen Bessie and Watermelon. Taming creatures is generally not hard, but it is a process. The herbivores are the easiest, you just find their favorite berries and feed ‘em until they like you.” You paused there and then sighed. “You kind of have to take all of this with a grain of salt, because none of this makes sense. I just knew when Bessie was tame, same way I just know that hyaenadon will be ready to come in tomorrow. I didn’t have to train Bessie, she just knows.” You shrugged. 

“So, what, you just feed things until they follow you home?” Gaz didn’t look up from the dodo he was plucking. 

“I mean, with herbivores, yeah. And a few carnivores, like the hyaenadons. But most carnivores are much more dangerous.” You shook your head. “I’m honestly amazed Tom was able to tame Ripper. Raptors are dangerous and they’re pack hunters.”

“So how did he tame it?” Price crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Nuh uh.” You pointed a threatening finger at him. “Nope. Week two. Survive that long and I’ll teach you.” 

His eyes gleamed and he tipped his head to look down at you. “Fine.” 

“Are we goin’ for the green drop?” Soap asked as he finished piling meat in the preserving bin. 

“Haven’t decided. The closer you get to the mountain, the more dangerous the creatures are.” You shrugged, turning away to check your berries. You needed to do something with some of them. More hard biscuits, probably. Especially considering how many Gaz had eaten. “Gaz, let me know when you’re done with those dodos.”

“Will do.” He sneezed as a feather tried to drift up his nose, making Soap laugh at him. You just rolled your eyes. Children. 

The rest of the day passed in more or less easy work. Gaz picked up how to get the most meat off the birds quickly, only grumbling when Soap interrupted him. Ghost had vanished outside again, which you decided was Not Your Problem. Price had studied the map for a bit and then started poking around. 

It was not the same kind of quiet that you’d grown accustomed to since Jasper got killed. But it was quiet, mostly. 

Gaz helped you with dinner, which was good, because you weren't used to cooking for five. 

Dinner was quiet too. This time, Soap grabbed the dishes before you could, leaving you inside with Gaz and Price. Gaz stepped outside as well. 

Lovely. 

"You haven't searched for a way out?" Price asked, leaning back in his chair, hands folded together over his stomach. 

"I never said that," you shot back, a little annoyed. "Of course I have. Everyone has. And nobody's done it. This place is a fucking death trap." 

He was quiet for a few moments, watching you. You looked away first. 

"Forgive me if I don't believe there's no way out," he drawled.

You waved a hand. "Believe what you want," you muttered. "You'll figure it out." 

He blew out a breath. "What else do we need to learn?"

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. "More about taming, later," you said. "Weapons you seem to know. We need to go through berries and edible plants, of course. Basic repairs. Basic building. Creature identification. Things to avoid at all costs." You shrugged. 

Price nodded, still relaxed in his chair, still watching you. "You haven't given up yet."

You tensed. "What?"

"You're still here. Still alive." His lips quirked in an almost-smile. "Much as you insist this place is a death trap, you haven't resigned yourself to it. Not fully. Else you wouldn't have survived this long." 

You stared at him for a few long moments, lips parted, eyes wide. Your heart beat hard and fast in your chest, the same feeling the last time you'd come across a raptor. 

You slammed out of the house before you knew what you were doing, walking fast away from that train wreck. He wasn't even entirely wrong - there was still that tiny glimmer of wondering, that tiny what if.

More than that, though, you were mad he had read you so easily. You weren't used to that. Maybe it was all the time you'd spent alone, or the lack of emotional intelligence from Jasper. 

Either way, you probably could have reacted better. 

“Love?” 

You startled a little at the nickname and half-turned to look at Gaz. The bastard had snuck up on you. “Hm?” 

“You alright?” He took a slow step closer, hands twitching at his side.

“Yes, of course.” You breathed in, swallowing hard. “You lot got the dishes done already? Gonna have to find more things for you to do before you get bored.” 

“Don’t worry about that,” Gaz murmured, taking another step closer. “We’re good at keeping ourselves busy.”

“Hm. Even so.” You turned away from him to fuss with one of Bessie’s saddle bags. “Nice having help, definitely makes the chores go faster. If that green drop is still there tomorrow maybe we’ll go find it. Green drops usually have better stuff in them.” 

“Yeah? Anything you want in particular?” He stepped around you so he could see your face again, leaning against the fence. 

“Wouldn’t mind getting a shotgun,” you admitted on a sigh. “And boots. I would kill for boots.” 

You both looked down at your current pair, which were in poor repair by now. And too big for you. 

“See what you mean,” Gaz murmured. “Well, we can check tomorrow, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You breathed out again. “Long as there aren’t raptors along the way.”

“There a lot of them around here?” 

“Not usually.” You shifted your weight, finally giving up on messing with the saddle bags to mirror Gaz’s posture. “Get a little further up into the mountains, though, and there are all kinds of things. Raptors, sabertoothed cats, carnotaurus. Even rexes, if we’re really unlucky.” 

“Sounds like everything wants to eat us.” But he was still relaxed, smiling a little.

“You joke, but you’re right.” You shook your head. “There are so many things on this island that want to eat you. So many.” You shivered as the memory of screams echoed in your mind. 

He frowned, hand settling on your shoulder. "It's alright, love," he murmured. "There are five of us, now. And you've got experience. We'll manage." 

You leaned into his hand, swallowing convulsively. It had been… a long time since you'd had human contact. A long time. "You're right." You breathed in deep, trying to wrangle your emotions back under control. "We'll be okay." 

He smiled at you, warm and confident. "I know you don't know us yet," he said, shifting closer to you, brown eyes holding yours. "But we keep each other safe, and we'll do the same for you." 

You shook your head a little, smiling even as you pulled back. "Don't worry about me," you demurred. "Focus on yourselves at first. I know what I'm doing." One deep breath in and you stepped back. "Come on, we should go set up for bed." 

He nodded, motioning for you to go first. You breathed in deep before you went inside, scooping up the basket of glow crystals. 

The evening was quiet. Gaz helped you set up, and ended up sitting near you for a little while. 

"Think you're gonna name the hyaenadon?" He asked, glancing at you. 

"Oh, probably." You smiled a little. "Dunno what yet." 

He nodded, relaxing next to you. "Think it'll be right around here?" 

"I hope so." You chuckled. "Or maybe it'll find us when we go to the green drop." 

He nodded and watched as Soap and Ghost came back in too, settling down for the night. 

"You should get some sleep," you murmured to him. He was close, you could touch him. You could. It wouldn't be weird. Your gaze settled on his hand, a nice, innocent spot. "Gonna be a long day." 

"Sleep well." Gaz hesitated another moment longer before he pushed up to his feet. You watched him go.

You should have touched his hand. 

Annoyed at yourself now, you retreated to your own bed for the night. You needed to take your own advice, especially if you were leading them off to the green drop. 

Huffing to yourself, you curled up on your side with your back to them. 

It took you a long time to sleep.

Gaz helped you with breakfast the next morning, standing a little closer than he needed to. But you didn't mind. 

And then Soap crowded in on your other side, and you eyed the both of them. This felt distinctly like pranks, or something. Mischief. 

But nobody got into trouble through breakfast. Thankfully. 

It didn't take long to get armored up again, and you grabbed another piece of meat for the hyaenadon. 

“We'll take Watermelon today,” you said, glancing around at them. “He'll be good help.” 

“How so?” Gaz asked, sidling closer to you. 

“These guys are good as watch towers. They're kinda paranoid, and they alert at any sign of danger.” You shrugged, walking over to the paddock. “Hey, Watermelon. Hi cutie boy.” You held out a hand, smiling as the parasaur plodded happily over to you. “Good boy,” you cooed. 

“Big dinosaur,” Soap muttered, shifting his weight. “Ye sure it'll help?”

“Saved my ass before,” you said with a shrug. “Okay, come on. Let's get going.” You whistled for Watermelon to follow. 

The walk up to the green drop was longer than you liked, and you were on alert the entire walk. So was Watermelon, ambling behind you all and looking around constantly. 

Watermelon bleated in alarm, and you halted, gun up, scanning for the threat. 

But the only thing to approach was the hyaenadon. 

“Okay,” you breathed. “Do not shoot my hyaenadon.” You glanced back at the men to make sure they were listening. Price nodded once, so you tucked your weapon away and approached the hyaenadon. Handing over the last piece of meat was easy, and the hyaenadon wagged as it ate. She licked her lips and then sat politely in front of you, jaws parted in a canine grin. 

“Good.” You patted her on the top of her head, ruffling her fur. “Okay, come with us.” You whistled and she trotted happily along with you as you rejoined the others. 

“Done?” Price asked, glancing down at the hyaenadon. 

“Yeah. She's all tamed now.” You breathed in deep. “Alright, let's get going again.” 

You took the lead again. A quick glance back showed Soap and Ghost both giving your newest tame a good berth. But Gaz looked curious. 

Eh. You'd deal with any questions later. 

You paused at the top of a rise, looking across the flat land towards the green drop. This was a potentially dangerous area. So far all looked quiet, and the pair of pachys roaming the flat area were a good sign. 

Hopefully all would stay quiet. 

“Alright. The drop is just up there.” You glanced back at them, a little surprised to see them all already watching you. “We’re going to approach slowly. If you see anything, speak up. I've seen raptors up here before.” 

They all nodded, and you took the lead to the drop. Watermelon looked around anxiously, but stayed quiet. Probably a good sign. 

You popped open the crate, peering inside. Some armor pieces that looked too big for you, ammunition, another assault rifle, two more canteens, and… a pair of boots. 

“Hell yes,” you hissed, picking up the boots immediately. They looked like they might be a little too big, but you had extra cloth you could shove into them. Good enough. 

Gaz helped you get everything into the saddle bags, grinning when he spotted your boots. “Finally, eh?” he murmured. 

“Finally,” you agreed with an easy grin. “Alright, let’s–”

Watermelon bleated, lifting his head and looking to one side. You turned, pistol in hand, scanning the tree line.

“Raptors,” you hissed, eyes narrowing, even as you stepped forward, all too aware of the men behind you. “Fuck I hate raptors.” 

“How many?” Price asked, closer than you expected. 

“At least three.” You tracked one pacing at the edge of the trees, dark green skin blending into its surroundings. “They’re fast, be careful.” 

The first one burst from the trees with a screech, two others flanking it. You aimed for the leader, jaw tight as you timed your shots. Blood bloomed against the dark green, bright and almost startling in the sunlight. 

The leader fell, jaws still open even in death. You huffed in satisfaction. 

One of the other two leapt over the leader’s body with a screech, claws extended towards you. 

And then fell just shy of you from a shot to the eye, bleeding sluggishly. 

Your breath escaped in an unsteady whoosh, hands trembling even as you reloaded your pistol. “Nice shot,” you managed, voice more or less even, gaze still fixed on the corpse. 

“You alright?” Gaz stepped up next to you, one hand hovering near your shoulder.

“Fine.” You forced your gaze to him, plastering on a smile, even if it felt wrong. “Not the first time raptors have ambushed a drop.” You did a quick visual inspection of him before looking at the others. “Everyone okay?”

“All fine,” Price said, glancing between you and Gaz. “No injuries.”

“Good.” One more deep breath and you shoved everything down. You didn’t have room to break, to panic, to cry. Not here. “Right, let’s head back, I don’t want to see if that noise attracted anything around us.” 

The walk back to base was quiet, with all of you on high alert. The hyaenadon trotted next to you, ears perked, listening to everything around you.

You were very, very grateful that nothing came for the group of you. You were even more relieved when you closed the gates behind everyone, once again safely in base. 

“Let’s get this lot unloaded,” you said, swallowing against sudden exhaustion. “And then figure out dinner.”

“You alright?” Gaz asked softly, standing next to you to unload the armor while you grabbed your new boots. “Your hands are shaking.”

“I’m fine,” you lied with a quick smile. “Nothing to worry about. Go on, head in with those, I’m going to get Watermelon settled.”

Gaz shot you one more worried look before he obeyed, falling into step next to Price. 

Your hands didn’t stop shaking, even as you took off Watermelon’s saddle and got him settled in the paddock with Bessie again. 

You stood outside for a few extra minutes, hidden from sight of the building, just breathing. You hadn’t lost anybody today. You hadn’t lost anybody today. 

You’d make sure you didn’t lose anybody tomorrow.

[mod-doodles]

Carmy is the walk-in - the fridge guy is a therapist - the T is for therapy

(Tony, Tom, Tim, Terry)

Song: ‘Changes’ - Charles Bradley

The fridge is his self preservation and we experience The Bear from Carmy’s perspective and it’s very reminiscent of Bella and Edward; blue af and cool toned like ice, coldness and glaciers like his eyes.

The renovation is the staff removing the toxicity (mouldy walls) and rebuilding.

They are the pots and pans that were ‘barkeeper-ed’ into a second life (science baby).

The one person that didn’t receive the barkeeper’s treatment was Carmy - he was resistant to the change, he starts seeing Claire in a last ditch effort to revel in the past and stops the Al-Anon meetings and so he’s regressing and like the handle of the walk-in he’s still broken.

The one thing everyone agrees on from the show runners to the actors to Natalie to the fandom is that Carmy desperately needs fixing via individual therapy.

Carmy is the fridge that needs to be fixed and he never calls the fridge guy. . .never goes to therapy

•••

Somehow he’s both the fire and the ice; things necessary in the running of a kitchen. His love for his family and friends is the fire but he’s also cold, hardened, frigid because of the hand he was dealt in life (a more eloquent, poetic writer kindly run with this).

So maybe in the last season of the show they’ll have to get a new walk-in installed or maybe not because having experienced trauma we don’t just get to replace our old selves, no, ultimately we keep working on ourselves; fixing bits and pieces as we march on - by replacing the handle, changing the shelves, installing new lighting etc.

It’ll be funny if Carmy’s actual therapist is named - Tim, Terry, Tom - visual reaction below:

[roseblancheenfleurs]

Untold Story Of Magic ✨

Warning ⚠️⚠️⚠️

Nsfw Content, Slight Degradation, later aged characters, fanfiction, toxic, rivals to lovers to enemies to spouses 😌,Muggle insult, cursing by underage etc.

"Stop it sneaky snake" You frustratingly call out the black haired boy who has snatched away your notebook. Now reading all your doodles on the back side with a sly smirk as he has a bunch of secrets in his hands.

He didn't seemed to respond to your insult.

"Thomas Marvolo Riddle" You called out the future dark lord , your rival.

You are Y/n S/n , a student at the Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. You are muggle quite a special afterall the sorting hat asked you to choose your own House from Slytherin and Gryffindor because you were both truthful and loyal with high ambitions with necessary scheming.

Wanting to preserve the name of your very past ancestor Godric Gryffindor, you choose the house of the lion throwing major insult to the half blood and pure blood of the Slytherin (as if there were so willing to accept a muggle 🙂).

This made you a respected figure in the Gryffindor house and also earned you a major rival Tom Marvolo Riddle, the direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin, the future dark lord.

Both of you have been for every single thing . From the last cup of butter beer to the first position at the end of the session.

Like two poles of earth have the climate in common similarly you two also had a habit of sneaking into the library. But unaware of each other until the Sunday night 6 months ago.

"Is the coast clear, Puchi?" You whispered to your pet cat who has the major responsibility of accompanying you everywhere even washroom.

"Meow", the furry creature run through the corridor to the library door.

And you followed with dangling lantern flickering in your hand.

Even though having special permission from Headmaster Dippet, you were advised to go their secretly for the other students to not to break the curfew protocol.

You reached the door where you cat waited for you to open the door and she would feast on some mices.

You twisted the knob and was about to open the door a hand stopped doing so by helding your hand. Like brave lion you didn't screamed instead gripped your wand to obliviate the sudden intruder. You turned back only to feel someone's lips on yours.

It's Tom standing behind and you kissed him.

"WTF" you both cursed rubbing your lips harshly.

Congrats you have kissed you rival.

Also your blood enemy. 🤣

And from that possibly the doom started (For you specially). Having very conservative thoughts Tom was persistent about marrying you as you took his first kiss.

"But we are freaking kids 🙂" You were so done and had enough of this rascal pestering you having a good talk to boys around you, stalking you, stealing your quils and handkerchief (literally you mother is scolding you why you needed 50 handkerchiefs in less than a month).

Born from the affects of amortenia, The way of confessing is a bit different from others. Teasing, ruining your drawings, sneaking wrong ingredient in the potion and many more if someone else was in your place they would have been leave Hogwarts days ago because of the extreme level of torturing.

To his teasing you gave savage answers, restored you hard work by magic spells, adding the neutralizing ingredient to the potion to save progress.

It went well, you loved this challenges.

Until one day you found Tom bullying your childhood male best friend and you slapped him across the face which echoed through the whole hall. Everyone will fear stared at Tom who grabbed your wrist thinking he would twist it painfully only to see him placing a kiss on the back. Rubbing it on his wounded cheek.

"You hands are so soft just as I imagined" he said like a professional creep.

"It's enough I wanna go home" That's your only thought. You later confronted him in the library .

"What do you want, Riddle?"

"You"

SMACK!

You smacked him across the face.

"Date me"

If it saved your friend from his hand that's what you did .

Breaking News!

The world is on the verge of End Tom and Y/n are dating.

It was printed on the monthly magazine of Hogwarts containing important updates.

Even professors were shocked seeing Tom apologizing to your friend in the hall full of students.

At first you were cold to him but due to gentleman gestures it didn't take long for you to fall for him.

He was already madly in love with you.

Every secret... his world domination plan, The story of his heartless birth father and incompetent mother everything he told you. You didn't supported the plan of his word domination but he was persistent that he would dominate the world and you would be his lady, The lady of the great dark lord. He reasoned that in that position you could get everything you wish for but all in vain.

"Damn it why would you take to support our love?" He yelled.

That day you were already in a bad mood, Extra classes, extra homework didn't got enough sleep last night accompanied by the depressing period hormones.

"Let's break up" and you walked away that was the last time you saw Tom.

It's like he never existed, you graduated from Hogwarts with flying colours.

From a muggle to a powerful and prestigious witch .

You had a great contribution to the magic world numerous effective and easy spells.

New books, new wand cores, there wasn't a single field left.

Sucess fame and fortune you earned it all.

But it was too tiring.

You moved to a deep forest away from human civilization with your parents and cat.

Deep inside the jungle you constructed a luxurious castle to lavishly spend the rest of your days.

Chirp!

Chirp! Chirp!

Two sparrows are playing on the balcony railing.

Wind blows fluttering the curtains revealing a figure sitting on the whitewood table designing a new magical device.

It's You, The powerful muggle witch currently 53 years old.

Hoooo! A messenger owl comes to deliver you the latest daily prophet .

You leave the rest of your work taking a short break keeping yourself updated for the new world.

The first two headlines that caught your eyes

Lily And James Potter Found Dead!

Sirius Black,The Traitor.

[phoebecoleanddamonelenafan]

Tomarry fanfics worth reading (Part 2)

Wizarding Britain's Finest by duplicity

Summary:

Who was Voldemort with his lieutenants, his beloved followers? Who was the man that so many willingly called Lord?

Harry had witnessed Voldemort's madness and cruelty. He had yet to witness the inspiration behind such loyal, fanatical devotion.

Soon, however, he would.

Before they convinced you life is war by EclipseWing

Summary:

Harry's got the Imperius Curse tripping off his tongue and Tom's suddenly acutely aware of other people's emotions.

[that mutant reincarnation au nobody asked for but I wrote anyway]

Hauntingly by ObsidianPen

Summary:

Harry is put under a sleeping draught. A story of obsession.

You have to me a member on A03 to read this one.

Heir Apparent by MonsieurClavier

Summary:

When a Voldemort in his thirties encounters a time-travelling, seventeen-year-old Harry Potter, he makes a dangerous—and hilarious—assumption. He assumes that Harry is his son. And his son, of course, deserves the very best.

A confused Harry plays along for the sake of self-preservation, but living with his “father” is proving to be intolerable in more ways than one.

Keep Your Enemies Closer by Riddletobien

Summary:

Voldemort conquers wizarding Britain in Harry's sixth year, starting with a surprise attack on Hogwarts. Harry is allowed to live and his previous training with Snape merely... continues. Realization comes when Voldemort saves his life, of all things. Harry struggles to deal with friends and enemies alike, his strange influence over Dark Marks and Tom Riddle inside his head. He gets a chance at influence, but should he take it?

I Have Seen Your Heart by Arliene

Summary: The arrival of his nemesis is the least of Harry Potter's problems. Now that the war is over, he finds himself drifting away from all that held him together in the past, trying to find a new purpose in his life. Being framed for murder forces Harry to be on the run and this time the only company he takes with him is Tom Riddle. The young Dark Lord faces a future he did not expect, meets an oddity who killed everything he strived to be. And yet he finds himself obsessed with his murderer, a determined man searching for answers and reaching for the sky once more. Harry Potter's purpose and Tom Riddle's destiny, seemingly entwined. They say change is overrated. But choice is everything.

This one ends on a bit of a cliffhanger but is still worth reading. 

Stars, Hide Your Fires by Audair, Ophidias (Audair)

Summary :

In the winding streets of Knockturn Alley, an intricate dance of mutual obsession unravels between twenty-three-year-old Tom Riddle and a time-travelling Harry Potter. 

You have to be a member on A03 to read this one.

These Violent Delights by Ghidorahs_child 

Summary:

Harry never thought he’d survive Voldemort, and four years after the end of the Second Wizarding War he finds himself looking for something that will give him a new purpose.

Not sure himself of what he truly wants, on his birthday he jokingly tells Ron and Hermione he wishes for one last adventure for old times’ sake, before finally moving on and settling down.

Little did he know that he would not only get his wish, but also so much more than he bargained for. 

[below-average-fangirl]

I'm halfway through Tom Cruise's filmography, and one aspect of his acting which stood out to me is that he's unafraid to show vulnerability on screen, be it fear, silliness, or embarrassment, i.e.

- Jerry Maguire face-planting onto the floor when he rushes back into the office after being fired. 

 - Ethan Hunt in Fallout after the bathroom fight when Ilsa tells him he doesn't know what he's involved with. "I don't know what I'm involved in. I don't know what I'm involved in... What am I involved in?"

- Ethan Hunt in Rogue Nation when he attempted to jump over the hood of the car, slipped and face-planted onto the floor. 

- Bill Cage when he is wiped out by a car while running to Rita in Edge of Tomorrow. 

- Jack Reacher looking at the knife when he has to face off with the bad guys who have assault rifles.

I couldn't help but think of Harrison Ford. It’s been said somewhere by someone that one of the great traits Ford has as a screen actor is the ability to show fear without undermining his hero status, and I think Tom Cruise shares this trait, as well as humor. Their characters are funny and they will often lean into the humor without undercutting it, and that makes them more relatable. However, despite those similarities, the way I respond to them as an audience member is very, very different.

Harrison Ford is an actor I grew up watching, and Star Wars and Indiana Jones were the main staples. While I did enjoy those films, even as a kid, there was an energy Ford brought to the screen which felt dangerous. Thankfully, this is all brilliantly examined by Pop Culture Detective in this video, and jumping off the back of that, I want to talk about the power dynamics between Tom's characters and the female leads in his action films.

Let’s start with Nick Morton in The Mummy, who is an adventurous type in a similar vein to Indiana Jones. Both characters go around stealing artifacts. Although Indiana Jones would claim he’s preserving them by putting them in a museum, he's still stealing them from the indigenous culture. Nick is more honest with himself about being a thief. Another distinction between Nick Morton and Indiana Jones is how they interact with their respective heroines. Our first introduction to Jenny Halsey in The Mummy is when she, without hesitation, slaps Nick across the face and calls him out for stealing some papers from her. Nick plays dumb because he thinks she won’t want to admit that they slept together. However, Jenny is not at all embarrassed by this and instead uses it to get in a dig about Nick’s prowess in bed. In response to this, Nick makes a quip that she didn't complain the night before about his performance. The key difference between what you would see from a character like Indiana Jones in this scene is that at no point during this exchange does Nick get in Jenny’s face or manhandle her to try and intimidate her physically to reassert his masculinity. 

Then there's Bill Cage in Edge of Tomorrow, who, like Nick Morton, is a morally ambiguous character. Cage is a coward who finds himself a safe job far away from the fighting, but is suddenly stripped of his rank and thrust onto the frontline after the attempted blackmail of an army general backfires. When he first comes across Rita Vrataski on the beach, he is lying on his belly, out of his depth in battle and looking up at her with bewilderment and awe, the Angel of Verdun. Rita is then immediately killed by a rocket blast right in front of him. The second time Cage meets Rita on the beach, he saves her life by pushing her out of the way of the rocket and getting hit instead. This is where we see Rita’s determination and single-minded focus to win the war; she does not stop to mourn or thank the man who saved her life; instead, she steals Cage’s power back and leaves him for dead on the beach. This ruthlessness does not deter Cage from seeking her out again on the battlefield. He knows Rita is his way off this beach. Once Rita understands that he has the power to reset the day, this is where Cage’s purpose changes from trying to save himself to serving Rita. We witness this with the scene at the farmhouse where he is kneeling at her feet serving her coffee.

By this point in the film, Cage is as well trained as Rita, but his authority never supersedes hers; he is only ever subservient. He does try to deter her from the mission by not admitting that they have been at the farmhouse before. He already knows that no matter what he does, he can’t save her, he can’t get her past this point, and what gives him away is three sachets of sugar. That one caring act of being prepared to make her coffee as she likes it is enough for Rita to realize that he’s lying, that they have been at this farmhouse multiple times. Here is where something shifts in Cage, because after witnessing Rita’s death this time, instead of telling her in the next loop that he can reset the day, he decides to find the omega on his own, knowing that if he succeeds, Rita will be dead.

"I’m a soldier. Why does it matter what happens to me?"

Cage is learning that in war you can’t save everyone, something Rita knew when in one loop she unceremoniously took his power pack after saving her. This is when he begins to be on an equal footing with Rita, demonstrated in the scene where they both realize, and agree without words, that they have to break into Whitehall to steal the transponder. While they had been a team before, Cage is now fully onboard with the job of finding and killing the omega. They then only have one shot left at succeeding, because Cage has lost the ability to reset the day anymore, but Rita trusts Cage to do it. This finally shows that they are equals.

In contrast to Nick Morton and Bill Cage, there’s Ethan Hunt, a morally good character who is intelligent, highly capable, and most importantly, empathetic. I won't go through all six Mission Impossible films, but instead, solely focus on the dynamic between Ethan and Ilsa. Ilsa saves Ethan on multiple occasions in Rogue Nation.

The first time the audience and Ethan meet Ilsa is at a moment when Ethan is incredibly vulnerable. He just witnessed the murder of a fellow IMF agent before being gassed and kidnapped, where he wakes up tied to a pole in a basement under threat of torture. It is only because of Ilsa that Ethan makes it out alive. The second time they cross paths is after the opera in Vienna, where we learn that Ilsa is an MI6 agent who is deep undercover.

Slowly, the film is building a connection between Ilsa and Ethan, but one that doesn’t override either one's main objective. As much as Ilsa has a sense of loyalty to an agent from an allied country, and saves Ethan again from the water tank, to escape from Ethan in the bike chase, she steps into his path suddenly, causing him to fall off and skid into the dirt. In any other film, this would be a humiliating moment for the main character, and there would almost certainly be a scene to balance it out and give the upper hand back to the male hero, but not in Rogue Nation.

There is not one scene where Ethan tries to reassert control or dominance over Ilsa, like the kind you would see in a Harrison Ford film where he gets into the personal space of a woman to sexually intimidate her. Instead, it is established that Ilsa, throughout the film, is Ethan's equal, and his masculinity is not threatened by this; nor is he humiliated in being rescued by her; and he feels no need to try and assert his dominance.

This is something which continues into Fallout, where once again Ilsa saves Ethan, and once again they are starting from opposite objectives. Ethan has to break Lane out, Ilsa has to kill him, and the essence of their relationship is distilled beautifully by Christopher McQuarrie.

There is emotional maturity and understanding between the two of them that elevates their relationship above what you would normally find in this genre of film between two spies of the opposite sex.

However, the character who is the most interesting to look at in terms of male/female power dynamics is Jack Reacher, as he is probably the most traditional action hero Tom Cruise has played. Reacher is a gruff, no-nonsense man of few words, and as the book outlines, his philosophy is: Hit early, hit hard. Kill with the first blow. Get your retaliation in first. This man is dangerous. Yet, at no point do I feel that the female characters are in danger around Reacher simply because they are women.

First off, the waitress who clears away Reacher’s table. It’s a small but, I think, important interaction. All Reacher does is give her a "fancy it" kind of look, but there's nothing aggressive or leary about it, and when she rejects him, he's disappointed but quickly moves on.

Secondly, the dynamic between him and Sandy in the first scene at the bar; he is being tough on her, but we know that he’s seen her argue with some guy before coming to sit at his table, so he’s probing. He’s trying to work out what her angle is. He’s mean, but he’s never intimidating. Then later, when he goes to Sandy's work, he’s pissed that she tried to set him up, but at no point do I ever feel Sandy is in danger, and at no point does Reacher try to exert information out of her by getting into her personal space. He never uses the threat of sexual violence to get that. His whole attitude is much more that of a disappointed dad. When he understands what is going on with her, and that she is a victim too, he softens toward her because she is just a kid.

Then there’s the main relationship between Jack and Helen. From the get-go, there’s an attraction but also competitiveness. Two very intelligent and competent people who are good at what they do spend the first half of the film trying to get a handle on one another and their motives. But in terms of sexual power dynamics between the two, I think there is one part where the film has Reacher lean into an action film trope, but then pulls away from it. 

It’s the scene with Helen in the hotel, where Reacher is shirtless and says they need some sleep. He reaches across her, and for a moment, Helen thinks he’s suggesting sex, but instead he puts her keys in her hand. I think that was Reacher playing with her a bit, teasing her about something possibly happening to see how she would react, but it never feels threatening. He doesn’t linger in her personal space because he knows that nothing can happen between them. He will leave town once the mystery is resolved. The one scene where they do get close, where they linger and lock eyes, is the moment in the lobby where Helen gives Reacher the address to the gun range. That scene feels very different to what you would normally see in this kind of film. They feel very much like equals, like they’ve come to understand one another at last, and while they both feel the attraction, Reacher is never dominating.

To me, it feels like Reacher is thinking about more than sex between them. To me, there is a hint that he’s thinking he could have a different kind of life and that if he wasn't who he was, he could have a normal life with her.

TL:DR: Ultimately, what I find reassuring about Tom Cruise’s characters in action films and how they relate to the heroine is that they avoid the standard trope of sexual banter or intimidation. There may be sexual tension between them, but it’s not the dominating force in their interactions. The films respect the abilities and agency of the heroine and never tell us that the male hero is emasculated for being rescued or held accountable by a woman.

Thank you to @indifferentvincent for letting me ramble in the DMs and helping me make this coherent.

[cellarspider]

28/?? Katamari Damacy

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We return to NA NAAA NANANA NA NANA NA KATAMARI DAMACYYYY

[Video description: It's the We Love Katamari soundtrack, specifically Katamari On The Swing.]

You wanna see the dumbest thing you’ve seen all movie? Of course you do. I’ll try to figure out a way it could have worked. Content warning for character death, and a monster attack that I’m mostly not showing because I’m squeamish and y’all are going to have to deal with that. Yes, I, a person who used Pink Flamingos as a cinematic comparison earlier in this series, am squeamish about a scene in Prometheus. Sometimes stuff just hits you different for no discernible reason. 

Vickers and her lifeboat quarters ejected separately from the Prometheus, so she's wandering around on the surface not that far from Shaw. Both of them are therefore in The Danger Zone when the Engineer ship crashes, intact and rolling along its circumference. Spare a thought for how seasick the Engineer is probably feeling right now, and for David's still-conscious head, rattling around like a coin in a washing machine.

But we only see Shaw and Vickers, as they realize what's coming, and start up run away. …Down the path of the gigantic ship.

I want to emphasize, both of them do this. Do panicked people make dumb decisions? Yes. Are movie audiences predisposed to being charitable about that? No they are not, the audience expects rationality. The audience needs to be brought down to the perspective of the characters, so that irrational decisions make emotional sense. 

You need to make people feel the disorientation of encountering something so much larger than you that your sense of space is completely thrown off. It can be done. There's an animal fear in there, where self preservation kicks in and can steer you right or wrong. Something’s too large, or moving too fast to grapple with, or both. Jacob Geller has an excellent video essay covering this topic in video games, for instance.

For movies that do that? The one that comes to mind first is Edge of Tomorrow (2014). The beach landing scene in particular gets you into the perspective of a guy who is not supposed to be there and is completely disoriented, while remaining visually readable. It sticks close to him and his panic. The danger around him is all-encompassing, and he cannot keep track of it all. This overwhelming speed returns at points throughout the movie, leading to points in the theater where I physically leaned away from the screen, like I was in the original audience for The Arrival of a Train at La Ciotat. (1895)

And somehow this manages to be tense despite the fact that the man we’re following is Tom Cruise.

[Video description: A clip of the aforementioned scene. I highly recommend Edge of Tomorrow to anyone for whom Tom Cruise isn’t a dealbreaker. In fact, you get to watch Tom Cruise die! In this very clip! It’s a tense, engaging science fiction action movie, with good bits of humor, Bill Paxton as the most unhinged Master Sergeant you’ve ever seen, and Emily Blunt plays a goddamn space marine, power armor and all. As that description may imply, I especially recommend the movie to any 40k enjoyers–it hits a similar tone. You may also find the movie listed under the title Live Die Repeat.]

But no. In Prometheus, we the audience are shown the whole thing. The entire context. And what we see is a couple of morons that seem to believe they can outrun a wheel the size of a small town.

[A wide shot of Shaw, mid-logroll as the ship rumbles by in the background, entirely unconcerned, because it’s a fucking inanimate object that wasn’t chasing her in the first place]

Neither of them actually think to run left or right. Shaw just trips, and then rolls to the side. The average human does not roll that fast, so it really drives home how unbelievably bad they are at this. Vickers also trips, and gets squished.

[A clip from The Naked Gun (1988), in which a stand-off between police Lt. Frank Drebin (Leslie Nielsen) and Vincent Ludwig (Khan Noonien Singh himself, Ricardo Montalbán) ends with Ludwig falling off the side of a stadium before being run over by a bus, a steam roller, and the USC marching band.]

This scene, obviously, does not work. I am, however, stubborn enough to try and workshop how it could have worked.

Vickers needs to be broken beneath the wheel, and to do so in a way that the audience won’t jeer at. We’ve already discussed the issues of having too wide a view of the action, so let’s table that. How could you keep that perspective, while flattening Vickers?

You do have options. Maybe have Vickers do the smart thing and run off at an angle toward the sun, so she wouldn’t get any looming shadow to tell her when the ship begins falling over until it’s too late. Have her injured in the crash and unable to process what’s going on. Have her escape pod door fail to open, trapping her in the path of the ship. She was part of the corporate machinery, having petty power over others but ultimately trapped by circumstance. Make that all literal. 

And for fuck’s sake, don’t have the entire ship fall over on Shaw a few seconds later, letting her come out okay because she was huddled near the world’s strongest rock.

When the narrative blatantly plays favorites, my instinctive reaction is to resent the recipient of the movie’s favor. It feels like they're cheating.

Y'know what would’ve helped here, weirdly? Shaw thanking God for this. It would’ve theoretically been in character! The whole movie runs on christian logic anyway, so why not leave people wondering if there’s a supernatural power at work in the unbelievably fucked up universe of Alien. You’d swing back around to making people wonder what kind of loving god would allow chestbursters to happen.

But no. There is no god. Only the rock. You’re welcome.

Shaw has a hole in her suit or somesuch, and thus is propelled onward toward the lifeboat, which we know contains her newly-birthed squiddo, trapped in the med-pod room.

It’s not dead. Of course it isn’t. But what makes no goddamn sense is that it’s gotten massive. Yes, I know, Alien didn’t give an explanation for the embiggening of the chestburster either, but I am willing to give Alien the benefit of the doubt, and Prometheus just showed me a woman get killed by a donut.

David, possibly cognizant that Shaw is his only chance to not have to drag himself around by the lips, calls her to warn that the Engineer’s on their way to finish her off.

I waffle on whether this is dumb behavior from the Engineer. I know the movie’s reason for doing this is just to have one last action beat, and an unsatisfying payoff at the end of the film. 

The Engineer spared Shaw before. Maybe that was a tiny amount of sympathy for how she was getting kicked around. She’d die alone on this alien moon, sure, but it wouldn’t be their doing. But the humans got their act together enough to crash the ship. Maybe sparing her was a mistake. Even one of them might be too dangerous to let live, especially when we find out soon that there’s more ships quite close by.

There was a cut bit here–I’d previously avoided showing these, but why not. The Engineer stopped and looked at the books strewn on the floor. Watched a little of Vickers’ weird screensaver wall, as it played one of the videos included in the transmission David had sent toward the moon during the journey, while everyone slept.

Ironically, most of the human material culture the Engineer gets to see is due to Vicker's disinterest in the mission, which completely failed to consider the fact that it's polite to bring gifts when you visit somebody. Her material comforts becoming the single point of cultural contact. A strange little coincidence, and a little more silent characterization for the Engineer, until David’s voice over Shaw’s radio sets everyone to murderin’.

But because this movie is allergic to characterization, so we can’t have that. Instead, we are only using their reappearance to hit another horror movie cliché: the bad thing that's gotten back up again. Here, have a clip from Scream (1996), which deliberately did a send-up of the trope.

Originally there was going to be a whole fight scene here, which they took out because they felt it lessened the Engineer. But as it is, they’re still reduced to a big ol’ monster with a scary face that lumbers in and tries to kill the heroine.

Want to know what’s weird? Both Alien and Aliens solve their final alien problem by opening a door. This is literally the same thing. This is their one weird trick.

And frankly, I can’t look at it, because what happens squicks me out. So good job I guess, the non-consentacles got me squirming in my seat. When I’ve subjected other people to this movie, I’ve shamelessly muted and walked away for a minute. Maybe at some point I’ll figure out what limit it’s hitting there for me and Litany Against Fear it to pieces, but not right now! Facehuggers are a manageable sort of unsettling, but I do not like the bodyhugger.

The screenshot hunt for this was not fun, lemme tell you.

So, yes, the last of the Engineers on this planet laid low by their own creation(s), they’re mortal after all, ironic circle of rebirth, yadda yadda, moving on.

You know what, I’m actually with Shaw right now. Lying face-down and having a cry is a very understandable, human reaction to all this. Good job, movie, you got me vibing with her for about thirty seconds.

Want to see how they screw it up?

⛬

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Citations for alt-text rambles:

https://youtu.be/y-pE9j98jP0 da baaa, da ba da ba da ba da doodoodoo dabada daba da–

https://www.deviantart.com/pretty--kittie/art/Prometheus-Engineer-407316141 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WZ6JK1mPT-A&list=PLZbXA4lyCtqpMbPbUtqdnpx72tgxjSjo8&t=82 

https://www.deviantart.com/pretty--kittie/art/Prometheus-Engineer-407316059 

https://avp.fandom.com/wiki/MU/TH/UR_6000 

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dicranurus

[vandaliatraveler]

Part 2: After the Rain - Life in an Appalachian Temperate Forest.

From top: Wild ginger (Asarum canadense), also known as Canadian snakeroot; Philadelphia fleabane (Erigeron philadelphicus), a lovely spring aster deserving of a more dignified name; white wood violet (Viola sororia albiflora), a white variation of the common blue violet; woodland phlox (Phlox divaricata), also called wild blue phlox; creeping phlox (Phlox stolonifera), a mountain native and the most delicate and beautiful of Appalachia’s many wonderful phlox species; and Allegheny blackberry (Rubus allegheniensis).

[platform945]

Don’t let this darkness fool you (all lights turned off can be turned on) D.M

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hermione

Summary:

Draco has the perfect life, a beautiful fiancé, a huge mansion and a position as a head auror, but all of that is taken away from him when a building comes crumbling down on him and he looses use of his legs. He could deal with that, but the worst part? Hermione fucking Granger is his physical therapist.

A story in which Draco Malfoy finds hope in the form of a know it all swot.

Chapter Warning: Paralysis, Harsh Language, Hospitals.

Chapter 1

“She’s going to kill you when she finds out Malfoy.”

Potter was probably right, no matter how much Draco hated to admit it, what he was doing was extremely risky, and offensively fucking stupid. There had been a new dark object alert at a worn down, barely standing, house on the far edge of London and Draco was determined to get it before anyone else, it’s not like he had anything to prove as a former deatheater who may or may not have tried but failed at killing Dumbledore. The point was he had to come out of this house, which is rumored to have booby (haha) traps all over, without a scratch or else Astoria, his fiancé, will have his head on a stake.

The story between Draco and Astoria is a unconventionally romantic one. They were arranged by their mothers who would whisper and gossip about how “Oh they’ll have the cutest little babies” and “how do you think their wedding night is going to be spent?” and with that Draco promptly went to his room, locked his door, cast a silencing spell and screamed into his pillow. He was twenty one years old, he had no interest in settling down..that’s until he saw Astoria after all those years away from Hogwarts, he was star struck as soon as he saw her, now at twenty-three, he is planning (or more so his mother, while he gives the occasional “uh-huh”) a wedding, and praying that he doesn’t get murdered for going on the one mission he promised not to.

At least he had Potter with him.

“I mean seriously mate, she’s going to ban you from having sex with her for like a week”

Nevermind fuck Potter.

“Shut up potter” Draco hissed as they both enter a dimly lit room on the second floor of the barely standing house when he sees a journal with a vague green glow to it.

Harry puts his arm out which causes Draco to run into it with a “hmph” and sends him a deadly glare. The Harry sneaks over to the glowing object. It was very..peculiar, It reminded him of Tom Riddles diary but with less harmful intent, almost as if it was calling out his name. Harry’s fingers skim the cover of the journal and that’s when all shit hits the fan. The walls start trembling and little specks of debris falls upon their shoulders.

Now Draco would call himself a resourceful person, i mean that’s why he was in Slytherin right? self preservation and all that crap. But at that moment, all he could care about is getting the Boy Who Lived out of the house because if Draco came back and Harry didn’t..well that would raise some questions. Everything happened quickly, Draco grabbed Harry, Harry tried to grab the journal, Draco pulled him away and started running with him, down the stairs, through the hall, through the front door, Well harry made it through the front door, Draco had tripped over a loose floor plank and crashed into a weirdly placed coffee table.

“DRACO!!” Harry screamed and tried to push himself through the rubble that was all coming down at once, there was crashing, and dust, and noise, and then nothing. Harry couldn’t see Draco, and in that moment everything stopped. The reformed Deatheater was trapped under piles of walls and rubble, his legs successfully being crushed by pounds of brick, and his body not being at his own will..And yet the only think he could get himself to actually think about was if he’ll be home in time to get a good wank in. Priorities.

Everything went black.

—————————

Hospitals have always been Draco’s least favorite place, when he was ten he had fallen out of a tree after trying to save a baby bird who couldn’t yet fly, but instead stepped on a weak branch and fell down, landing on his arm resulting in a emergency to St. Mungos. He swore up and down that they were trying to break his arm even more with all of the poking and prodding that they were doing, and after that he swore to never set foot inside a hospital again. Ten year old Draco would be quite dissatisfied at this moment.

The blinding white lights override his senses as Draco slowly opens his eyes and blinks a couple of times, was he dead? surely not, his mother had promised him that when he died he would be greeted with all the sweets in the world and father promised that the most beautiful women would bow down at his feet.

He now realized that maybe that wasn’t the most normal thing to be telling your five year old. That’s besides the point.

Before anymore thoughts about his dysfunctional childhood could pop into his head he lays his eyes on his fiancé, his beautiful, amazing, murderous looking fiancé.

Astoria’s heels click across the shiny hospital room floor and as she reaches him he expects a kiss, or at least a loving embrace. Instead he gets quite a powerful slap to the shoulder. “What the HELL were you thinking Draco? you could’ve been killed! you could’ve died!”

“Merlin woman-“

“Don’t! i specifically told you not to go on this-“ Astoria’s voice cracks and she buries her face in her hands, it hurt draco deeply to see her like this, sure he’s impulsive and makes rash decisions but never with the intention of hurting her. His cold hand wraps around her small freshly manicured ones and sits up.

or at least he tries to sit up.

why can’t he sit up?

Eyebrows furrowed he lets go of the brunettes hand and slaps his legs a few times. Nothing. He tries to wiggle and move them. Nope. He looks down at his legs and shakes his head running his fingers through his hair. Why can’t he feel his legs? He sniffs and looks down his groin and hesitates before letting his fist come down on it. Yep. He can definitely feel that. Let’s hope Astoria didn’t want more than one kid.

Astoria jumps back and looks down before brushing hair from his face “Draco! have you gone mad-“

“Mr. Malfoy?”

A lady, probably in her mid fifties with salt and pepper shoulder length hair and dressed up in healer robes walks into the room with a soft smile as if everything is fine in this world. Must be nice.

“I’m Healer Brown, that was quite the accident you had there. You were stuck under the rubble for about three hours, though you blacked out after the first hour. It truly is a miracle you survived, you suffered a concussion along with a broken rib and some other sustained injuries”

Draco blinked at her before trying (and failing) to sit up again. He huffs and pushes himself up on his forearm and twists his upper body to face her more, about to ask why in the fuck knuckles he couldn’t feel his legs before he sees someone who he swore was a hallucination. He was hallucinating right? The mess of curls pulled back loosely into a high ponytail, a lilac blouse along with some muggle jeans (which didn’t annunciate her new founded curves at all, thank you very much) and a clipboard in hand.

“Granger?”

Apparently his tone wasn’t malice enough because she only responded with a soft smile before nodding. That fucking swot. he turns his head back to the healer and only then realizes that Astoria is sitting next to him and rubbing his back.

“So is he good to go home? we have a awful lot of planning to do for the wedding” Astoria all but spits out to the healer.

“Well we will have to make sure everything is-“

Draco cuts Healer Brown off almost immediately “Why did you numb my legs”

A look of confusion passed across the Healers face as she moves more to the bed, his eyes shifts to hermione only to see her face holds the same look of confusion with maybe a hint of curiosity. Draco notes that she had gotten tanner, her freckles more prominent, and her lips fuller. He looks back at the healer.

“Can you feel your legs Mr. Malfoy?”

Draco rolls his eyes “obviously fucking not”

If Healer Brown was offended by this, she made no move to show it. Instead she shoos Astoria off the bed and takes the sheets off of his lower body and squeezes his calf. “Can you feel this?”

“Nope” he says win a bored tone as he watches her.

She hits his knees with a little hammer looking thing “Here?”

“Nothing”

“What about here?”

“Nada”

Healer Brown promptly leaves the room, dragging granger with her, for what felt like hours before walking back in with a slightly more serious look on her face.

“Mr. Malfoy i’m sorry to tell you this but you’re paralyzed, you see when the rubble fell on-“

Draco couldn’t focus on what she was saying. Paralyzed? What does she mean paralyzed? He can’t be paralyzed. His job requires his legs, his mansion has at least a thousand stair cases and at least a dozen just to get to his and Astorias living quarters. And what about Astoria? Surely he wouldn’t be a suitable candidate as a husband if he has no use of his legs. no. he can’t be paralyzed. he simply refused to be.

He was brought back to reality to the sound of Astoria arguing with the Healer, something about how she was a “incompetent fucking saggy titted bird who didn’t know the first thing about Healing” and the Healer only looking mildly offended as she tried to calm his love down.

Draco interrupted their little squabble.

“Am i ever going to get use of them again”

Healer Brown looks at him with sad eyes. Fuck he hated pity.

“You must understand Mister Malfoy, the nerve damage done to your legs is incomprehensibly severe. There is a chance that you will recover but the truth of the matter is that if you ever do recover it will be a long hard and painful road. That is why i have assigned Miss Granger to be your personal Physical Therapist, she will work with you everyday on getting your strength back in your legs, as well as working in your chair”

Draco tuned her out for most of the part until he heard Granger and chair. His eyes shoot to Granger pushing a chair on two oversized wheels in and his jaw clenches. Sure he’s heard of wheelchairs before, but he had never actually seen anyone use one, he thought it was just a bloody muggle custom.

“I don’t understand” Astoria spits out as she stands up from the bed she had apparently sat back on without his knowledge. “He can’t be in a- whatever that is!”

This time Granger stepped in “Do you want someone to carry your fiancé everywhere? I understand this is less than suitable but until we figure out if we can regain enough strength in his legs, this is his only method of transportation”

There was silence.

Draco laid back down on his back and looked up.

There was silence before heels were clicking across the floor and out into a hall and a sobbed followed.

He turned his head ever so slightly to look at Granger who were giving her the same sad look Healer Brown did.

“don’t fucking look at me like that Granger, i don’t fucking need your pity nor do i need your help, get another Physical whatever and leave”

“I can’t exactly do that Malfoy” she expressed in a calm voice.

“And why not”

“Because i was the only healer out of the dozens asked, who actually agreed to work with you.”

And with that she left, Healer Brown following close behind, the only person left in the room was him with the wheelchair parked in the center of it, and on too of it sat a book, one he assumed Granger had forgotten was there. At this moment he wished life was like a book so he could sneak to the last pages, just like he did when he was younger and far too impatient, just to make sure everything would turn out okay.

[tomwambsmilk]

Welcome to the Succession Cannibalism Poll!! (aka the Succibal Face-Off)

One week ago, a private jet set out carrying 31 people and one dog, all travelling together for unclear reasons. The pilot attempted to take a shortcut through arctic airspace, but unforeseen turbulence forced the plane down. All 31 passengers + 1 dog survived, but the cabin crew were all killed in the crash.

Food supplies were slim, and dwindling. Finally, they made the difficult decision to eat one of the cabin crew, a flight attendant by the name of Andrew Dodds, who had drowned in a small puddle of water when the plane went down, and whose body was perfectly preserved by cold. They reasoned that help was on the way, and after all, Dodds wouldn't be needing his body anymore. It was a temporary measure, to get everyone out alive, they told themselves...

.... But in actuality, it was only the beginning.

32 Succession characters are trapped in the arctic, and the only food remaining is each other. Who will be the last one standing when (if?) the rescue team arrives? Who has the physical grit, the strength of will, and dubious morals required to eat their companions and make it through to the end? That part's up to you!

The rules:

there are 16 polls in round one. Each will go live at the same time (provided the queue system works properly) at 11:15pm EST, and be live for 24 hours

Don't just vote for your favourite! Remember, this is about who in a given pairing would actually be able to eat who

In the event of a tie, super-secret tie rules are unlocked. We'll cross that bridge when we get to it

Feel free to add more detail in the notes! Was it a tough struggle or did one give in quickly? Did someone sacrifice themselves, or did they get stabbed in the back? Did they gut hunted down? Did they run? Did someone cry?

Consider reblogging to increase the reach of the polls!

Masterlist of Round 1 polls under the cut (with links, once they go live). Good luck, and happy hunting!

Sandy Furness vs. Karolina Novotney

Lawrence Yee vs. Connor Roy

Nate Sofrelli vs. Colin

Frank Vernon vs. Rhea Jarrell

Jeryd Mencken vs. Willa Ferreyra

Roman Roy vs. Tabitha

Greg Hirsch vs. Jess Jordan

Mondale Wambsgans vs. Stewy Hosseini

Caroline Collingwood vs. Gerri Kellman

Kerry vs. Logan Roy

Siobhan Roy vs. Gil Eavis

Cyd Peach vs. Hugo Baker

Ewan Roy vs. Naomi Pierce

Karl Muller vs. Kendall Roy

Brian from Management Training vs. Tom Wambsgans

Marcia Roy vs. Rava Roy

[iloveyouphillipmorris]

on one hand i like it when people make ed all cutesy and shit but on the other i think everyone misses the point that gotham is a generally dark place with people within it who have been systematically broken down and forced to desperate ends. ed is a narcissistic, wise cracking, jealous, obsessive person whose pathological obsession with being viewed as the best leads him to do terrible things. he has forced batman to cut a babies throat bcoz he shoved a golf ball down it. in killing time he beats penguin basically to death with his own umbrella in a specific pattern to signal coordinates. like it feels like 1. no one reads the comics and only gets their batman/rogues gallery info from tumblr leading to insanely gross characterisations that are basically just oc's and 2. everyone's so preoccupied by the uwu factor to make anything genuinely compelling. it also feels like you miss the point of the mental illness that ed and the other rogues are often handling, with ed especially he is so seriously handicapped by his own mental and emotional issues that he often ruins his OWN plans just to ease them.

the idea of gotham as a reflection of the very real effects of a late state capitalist hellscape where everyone is forced into a mode of self preservation above all, with a looming figure of the joke that is the system good and will help everyone in batman himself is entirely lost. peter milligan's later work with the dcu where he suddenly made everything bright again bcoz "how could gothamites actually live here?" ruined so much of the core emotional ideas of the franchise that made it so captivating in the first place. because the thing is people DO live in gotham in the real world. they live in places like flint, like skids row, like detroit, like baltimore, or pharr. people are living in places where they've been systematically hurt and forced into desperate measures. since late era milligan and all of tom king's dreadful run, it's become this fantasy la la happy silly land and i frankly fuckin hate it.

fandom creations don't have to be a 1 to 1 reflection of canon events, hell, i know my adaptations and fan works aren't -- but outright ignoring the genuinely meaningful and insightful social commentary altogether feels like deliberate ignorance and just. such a fucking faux liberal, poor media analysis approach to something that really did revolutionise the way comics were made.

[the-paper-monkey]

hello! what would you say is the best draco characterisation you’ve ever read in a fic? and what have you read recently that you really liked and would read again?

also, i love everything you write :) thanks in advance!

I once saw this fanart that depicted the three main forms of Draco in Drarry and I have to say it's the most accurate thing I've ever seen lmao. My personal preference is somewhere between 'nutcase' and 'fake it till you make it' Draco. For light-hearted fics, I like those that capture the meanness of Draco's humour and his difficult personality; for serious fics I enjoy those where he truly wavers on the line of moral ambiguity.

Away Childish Things by lettered

Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.

A great exploration of all the parts that make up the whole of Draco Malfoy.

any day now by oknowkiss

Draco Malfoy considers the circle.

I like this Draco for his moral greyness, self-preservation, internal conflict and risk aversion

Temptation on the Warfront by alizarincrims0n

Draco Malfoy is forced into hiding with the Golden Trio and dragged into their search for horcruxes. What ensues is a journey of redemption, unexpected friendships and an unwanted, turbulent romance with Harry Potter. Warnings for swearing, sexual content, and dark themes.

This is probably one of the most plausible DH-era Draco's I've ever read. The way he speaks to Hermione alone is enough to put it on this list. It's rare to find contemporary Drarry fics that are willing to commit to his nastiness and bigotry.

Such Great Heights by aideomai

Draco Malfoy, wide-eyed and pale and in a decidedly ragged shirt, was crouched next to the pile of whatever the dragon had been eating. Harry threw himself to a halt and yelled, “Merlin, how many times do I have to save your life?”

Draco's crabbiness and difficult personality here is so good. This Draco has always been a major influence for me. This line in particular is iconic:

“Due respect, sir,” Draco said, because apparently even weird romantic feelings or whatever they were weren’t enough to keep Draco from throwing Harry under the bus the moment an authority figure appeared, “I haven’t done anything. I’ve been working nearly non-stop the past few weeks - you can ask Mr Borgin—”

Lorelei in the Menagerie by BelladonnaLee

"I think my dead son is haunting the manor," says Draco when Harry runs into him in an antique book shop. Driven by yearning and suspicion, Harry offers his help and is drawn into a web of secrets and half-forgotten nightmare.

I think anything I say about this fic would be a spoiler but I really enjoy Draco's twisted grieving here. Also considering my usual character preferences, I think you'll see why I like this one so much if you read it.

Heal Thyself by astolat

"Are you going for the course?" Lovegood asked. "You have the NEWTs.”

“What course?” Draco said, then, “No, don’t be ridiculous,” when he realized she meant the notice pinned up on the board he’d been staring at: Applicants To The Introductory Mediwizard Course For The Coming Term Shall Present Themselves In The Chief Mediwizard’s Office By August 24th.

“Oh, I thought you might,” she said. “Well, goodbye.” And off she wandered again in her addled way.

Amoral, ambitious character accidentally becomes a good person in their pursuit of status/money/power is one of my favourite tropes. It's also why I like Tom Riddle Snr in In the Bleak Midwinter so much. Astolat in general writes a great Draco.

What We Pretend We Can't See by gyzym

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

Despite the heavy sounded summary, this is actually a crackish humour fic. Certainly an excellent example of nutcase Draco. The villain reveal at the end is 100% my favourite part I stg.

[aethon-recs]

HP Rec Fest, Day 10 ❄️

@hprecfest daily prompts running through Dec 31. Goal is to find lesser-known or underrated works, even by well-known authors, to feature here.

*

Day 10: A Fest Fic

In Your Image by @perhaps-sunlight (T, 11k, complete)

Summary: A chance encounter in a London pub leads to a whirlwind romance between recent Hogwarts graduate Harry Potter and the famous artist Tom Riddle, who paints under the name Lord Voldemort. However, Voldemort hides a dark secret: he seduces young, attractive wizards and witches into modeling for portraits. Their beauty will be preserved on canvas and their souls harvested for his eternal youth. Harry is the perfect next victim. Why I rec it for this prompt: A Tomarry take on The Picture of Dorian Gray for the 2022 Big Bang, for which the theme was 'spooky'. I love the use of 2nd person POV here, which enhances the delightfully creepy atmosphere of the fic, as well as the mystery at the core of this story.

*

Running list of recs:

Day 1: Favorite under 5k | Such a Noble Villain Day 2: Comfort Fic | In Somno Veritas | Ouroboros Day 3: Podfic | a taste so good (i'd die for it) Day 4: Fic with Art | A Soulmate Like You Day 5: A Non-AO3 Fic | The Anti-Midas Day 6: Unreliable Narrator Fic | Anabiosis Day 7: A Canon-Compliant Fic | In Your Soul is Sealed a Pleasure Day 8: A Canon-Divergence Fic | Thirst Day 9: A Rare Pair Fic | dust in your pocket | A Breed Apart Day 10: A Fest Fic | In Your Image

[saintsenara]

there is so much new stuff on your blog that i need to catch up with omg and i swear i will get to it BUT. BUT FIRST. i have a question (which, funnily, is really relevant to my actual offline life rn): if tom riddle was a doctor, what specialty would he practice? [he gives me major neurosurgery vibes] and, more laterally, what do you think makes a good surgeon? as in, what kind of personality types fare the best in a surgical program?

now this is the sort of content i like to see!

while i can certainly see good old dr riddle [bmbch oxon] very much enjoying having a rummage around in a patient's cranium, he strikes me as someone who would prefer specialties on the medical, rather than surgical, spectrum - and, especially, would like specialties which require a lot of sifting through evidence and solving mysteries. he's clearly a puzzle girly [why else would he spend his teenage years coming up with anagrams of his own name?] and so i think he'd very much like the parts of his job which allowed him to spend half his time running a lot of invasive tests on people and the other half skulking in a lab getting an enormous amount of money to run research projects...

so he's applying for:

haematology

aka: staring at blood - which is right up his alley. his particular interest is coagulation disorders in pregnant women - and their contribution to these women dying in childbirth.

histopathology

aka: staring at slices of tissue. he's determined to find out whether or not the soul resides in the liver.

neuropathology

i think we can all picture him presiding over a collection of brains preserved in formalin. one of them is dumbledore's.

forensic pathology

cutting up corpses by order of the state? he's in! his team of graduate students have conned several million out of the wellcome trust and are spending it trying to reanimate their specimens.

forensic psychiatry

because while if you want to be a good psychiatrist you need an iron will and well-developed sense of empathy, if you want to be a bad one you need to be able to gaslight, gatekeep, and girlboss. and our tom's got that nailed...

now.

the above flippancy is about to make me look quite bad, because i am also a puzzle girly, and i like medicine precisely for the sort of mystery solving and research paper publishing it enables. but i'm not a mass-murderer, which i feel it's important to clarify...

i'm not a surgeon either - i didn't struggle with the gory bits of the work, i just didn't find any of the surgical specialties i shadowed during my training particularly compelling in re: that element of mystery.

while the reputation they sometimes have - especially on tv - for being scalpel-wielding jocks isn't accurate, it's certainly true that the defining trait you need as a surgeon is total, unshakeable conviction. in all medical specialities outside of emergency medicine you have the option to adopt a wait-and-see approach a lot of the time - but you do not have this option if you've got someone open on the table in front of you. you need to be enormously decisive, capable of tunnel-vision, incredibly good under pressure, and also a little bit arrogant - the only way you can get through the terror of knowing that you're responsible for slicing and dicing someone [particularly in specialties like neonatal surgery or neurosurgery] is to believe unquestioningly that you're going to smash it.

these are probably all traits you already possess - they're certainly something it benefits all doctors to have, in moderation - and they can also be learned and honed through practise, but they're going to be most crucial in surgery because - the vast majority of the time - your issue won't be working out what's wrong with a patient, it'll be pulling off the operation without a hitch.

surgeons still get to do academic work, clinical research and so on, but if you think you want to be a surgeon, you really have to like that slicing and dicing, in-and-out aspect of the work. if you can't see yourself performing thousands upon thousands of the same operation, it's not for you.