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The Pandemonium World

@serene-victory-77 / serene-victory-77.tumblr.com

Fanfic Writer. Most Interested: Six of Crows duology, Riordanverse, Shadowhunters, The Folk of the Air, and who knows what else. Safe Space for BIPOC and LGBTQ+! | Profile Pic from ummmmandy's Girl Maker
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imagine writing this. imagine writing percy increasingly losing himself to his anger and his resentment, sympathizing with Luke, spiraling, being immensely powerful, burning away at his mortality, and not knowing how to deal with any of it. Desperate for help and the one time he breaks down enough to try and get it (Jason) his worst thoughts and perceptions of himself are inadvertently affirmed. He never talks about it to Annabeth. He never talks about it to his mom. Oh but everyone is aware of it. Aware of his anger. Afraid of his anger. Concerned for him and by him. They give each other looks, worried, because they recognize what a danger he could be — to himself, to others, to the gods. But no one says anything, at least not to Percy. No one helps him. No one intervenes. They don't know how to, it seems. (Or maybe they're afraid to). And so they all pretend everything is fine. Percy pretends, bottling it all up inside until the pressure gets too great and that anger boils over and he loses it all over again. He's so desperate for normalcy that he'll take anything, believe in all of the sweet, sugar-spun tales of New Rome and looks away from the rotting underside. He lets himself believe that once he's there the gods will have to leave him alone, because he's done with it all, he's retired (and the gods always keep their promises don't they?).

Imagine writing what is arguably the well-plotted, compelling, and tragic beginnings of a fallen hero arc for percy and none of it being intentional.

RR's penchant for Percy to be explosively angry and scarily powerful, alongside characterizing him as jaded and resentful and desperate, mixed with his refusal to write any in-depth emotional resolution to any time Percy snaps has created an enthralling narrative of a hero just about to fall from grace. and it's all (seemingly) an accident.

Oh, and another, amazing, unintentional coincidence? if you're taking RR's word that Percy is still 17, that's also the age Luke was when he failed his quest, marking the beginning of his fall as a hero. Like. The narrative parallels are all there. And without any meaning for them to be.

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ezziefae

y’all need to STOP saying that jude is going to die because of her mortality!!!

yea we get it, she’s mortal (human) which makes her different than every one in faerie. But as long as she STAYS in faerie, she will not age to her death. (and jude has 0 interest in the mortal world for her to go back there, her home is faerie) Another advantage that Jude has is that she’s the QUEEN of Elfhame. She can heal from the land were she to get hurt! we already saw an important example of that when (SPOILER FROM QON) Madoc stabbed her and the land saved her. Jude doesn’t easily trust people, and she always has her guard up. She’s not EASY to kill.

C’mon!! this is Jude Duarte we’re talking about! she outlived Valerian and Locke. Beat Grima mog in a duel, murdered Balekin to SAVE Cardan, outsmarted the Court of Teeth, she even went as far as to CHOP the head of the man she loved and adored for a land that DESPISED her! and she would do sooooo much more!! she’s stronger and smarter than an average person living in faerie.

It baffles me that some of yall are DOUBTING Jude. The only reason the folk MOCKED jude for her mortality is because they feel superior to her, and they don’t LIKE seeing her win or become powerful. To the folk it’s an INSULT that a human has higher power. That why everyone in faerie bullied jude to make sure she’s reminded of her weakness, her mortality.

And i’m not saying that jude WONT die. Everyone in faerie can die. Cardan can die, the roach could die, the ghost, Queen orlagh, Nicasia could die. (and spoiler alert, all the characters i just named did ALMOST die, and jude/taryn who are mortal SAVED 3 out of the 5 people i just named)

like, i don’t see anybody saying: “omg cardan is gonna die someday, and jude is gonna be all alone 🥺💔 i’m gonna go sh*t TEARS BRB”

like….

you get what i’m saying. Just because the folk can’t age to their death doesn’t mean they are immune to death…like cmon now. stop using jude’s mortality against her!! If it were a game of survival, the folk would die before Jude. She’d outlived them all. Period. 💗

Just like the bomb said in the Queen of Nothing

“Long Live Jude Duarte!”

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I will simply NEVER shut up about how each of the Crows have a parallel character who then foils them in other ways.

Nina and Jesper are both outgoing, flirtatious characters who struggle with addiction. However, Nina's addiction was something she induced to save herself and the others, and something she knew she would have to fight to overcome. On the other hand Jesper spends most of the books in denial of his addiction, and it has dire consequences (Inej's stabbing and his father's farm being put at risk.) They are both Grisha, something that has had a devastating impact on both of their lives, however, Nina was able to grow up learning to harness her powers and Jesper was taught to fear his instead.

Matthias and Inej are both faith-driven people with strong beliefs. However, where Inej's beliefs have made her stronger and positively guided her decisions, Matthias' have made him full of hatred and eventually lead him to his death. Their respective romances cause them to go against part of their beliefs, or, in Matthias' case, completely unlearn them. They also both arrive in Kerch a captive and spend their first few months there imprisoned in some way.

Wylan and Kaz are the only characters who grow up in the same country, and while their class differences mean they begin their lives in very different ways, this does not stop them from arriving in the same place. Both of their stories in the Barrel begin with them narrowly escaping death, dragging themselves out of a canal and simply making the decision not to die no matter what the cost. Morally they are starkly opposite, with Wylan being the only Crow to blatantly confront Kaz on his actions and motives throughout the series. They are both quick-thinkers and good liars. By the end of Crooked Kingdom, Wylan begins to match Kaz' intelligence when it comes to 'criminal mastermind' thinking. They are also the only Crows who subvert expectations from their own POV, making you think they've failed when actually that was the plan all along. (They also have the same number of 'WANTED' posters in that one scene in CK.)

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animentality
I'm an adult

You're a dumbass who the fuck says something like that

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weaselle

a few months ago my friend called me and told me she was moving back up near me from 7 hours south in the middle of nowhere and asked if i would help her because she couldn’t move the furniture by herself and the town was so small there was no moving company (there were actually only 5 or six businesses in the whole town including both restaurants) and she had no one else down there to ask. 

And even though money is pretty tight for her, she told me I could name my price if I would help her, because it was so far away.

I told her she was a dummy for thinking i would take her money but that i would accept the traditional helping-a-friend-move price: a meal (i know she would feel wrong about herself if she didn’t do something for me in return, that’s just how she is) Tradition suggests pizza and beer, we opted for enchiladas and a margarita.

we crashed on the floor of the empty place and left back north in the morning - when we got back to the city three more friends met us at her storage place (the place she was moving into wouldn’t be vacant for a couple months) and we started to move all her stuff up to a storage room on the THIRD FLOOR (because large city storage places be like that)

we had just taken the first box out of the truck when the (only) lady working there walked by and told us they closed in an hour and twenty minutes, and she couldn’t stay even a little late because she had to get to her other job.

One hour twenty minutes. To completely un-jenga a large uhaul and re-tetris it back into a similar sized room on the third floor.

We all just, shared a look, took off hoodies, and got the fuck down to business. 

It was actually.. I still cherish look we passed around. The tiny eyebrow quirks and chin nods. The eye glints. The bigger breath we each took as we prepared to kick it up several gears. That moment of wordless connection, when we all just silently agreed that we were damn well going to do the impossible and didn’t even waste the time it would take to say anything, just got to it.

And we did it too. Finished with exactly two full minutes to spare. And then we all went for dinner and drinks to celebrate. And my friend’s friends that came to help? Two of them were acquaintances/friends of mine already. Like I lived with one for a year a decade ago sort of thing. But this experience? Brought us all closer. Made myself a new friend too.

And the friend i helped move? She and I are closer than ever because of it.

When i left our storage success diner to go home, she asked me again if I was sure i wouldn’t take any money.

I said “I ever tell you when I was 22 I went down to Hollywood to try that scene out? Anyway ten months later, when I just couldn’t do it anymore, and needed to come back, I called one of my best friends and said i can’t do this anymore i need to come back. You know what he said? He said: I’ll be there tomorrow. Not how much will you pay me, not what do i get out of it, not will you be able to cover my gas, just: I’ll be there tomorrow. Okay? You’re my friend. If you need help, I’m going to be there”

If helping someone move ruins your friendship, you’re doing at least one of those two things very wrong.

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three--rings

Two of my friends drove a rental from Texas to New York to pick me up and move me back home when I left New York.  My husband drove across five states to help drive a U-Haul to their new home for two of our friends. 

Even me, who physically can’t really do much in helping anyone move anymore, still spent several days helping them load up and directing packing, getting food, etc. 

Friends help you move.  It’s in the fucking code. 

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Your supervillain nemesis is little more than goofy comedy relief, always coming up with clunky machines and insane, nonsensical schemes. When a new dangerous villain appeared, your nemesis utterly destroyed them, and then continued on like nothing happened.

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shady-tavern

(Warning ahead of blood, broken bones and mentions of panic attacks. Please take care of yourself)

***

Your mouth tasted like blood and you felt the grind of broken bones as you forced yourself to stumble to your feet and look up at the floating villain with telekinetic abilities, who had shown up a mere half hour ago to wreak havoc.

In all honesty, the only reason there hadn’t been any civilian casualties had been the complete and utter coincidence of you deciding to buy a donut at your favorite, family owned little bakery. Instead of citizens getting hurt you had found yourself beaten into the ground with a vicious brutality you had never experienced before.

You were a hero, sure, but you weren’t part of the big league like the heroes of capital cities or entire islands. You were a Class C hero with passable super strength and good hand-to-hand combat and a supervillain nemesis who thought robots were the greatest thing since sliced bread.

Silver had been your nemesis for nearly ten years now, an incredibly smart villain with a love for ridiculous inventions and a Class A skill of escaping prison within 24 hours. No one quite knew how he did it, but you had just apprehended him yesterday after defeating his laser-giraffe when he had made his escape this morning with nothing but a pink leather jacket, sparkly sunglasses and light-up sneakers.

Silver was probably the best villain any hero of your calibre could ask for. He never attacked civilians and was only interested in a flashy showdown with you, rarely damaging private property. He never attacked schools or hospitals or libraries either, like you’d seen other villains do on TV. 

If anything, you really enjoyed bantering with him as you figured out how to shutdown his invention of the week as quickly as possible and he showed off to the civilians gathered nearby to film everything on their phones, cheering when something cool happened.

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chewriting

This entirely spawned from Cassie saying that Kit will have powers we have yet to see in TSC. And thus, the brain worm wiggled into my skull and has held me hostage ever since. I claim no responsibility for this for I am but a vessel for this parasite to work through. But this is my 'prediction' of what Kit's powers will be in The Wicked Powers, though it's more for fun than any actual predictions. I don't expect any of this to be remotely true.

The fae have always had a particular way with words, and Kit has always had a silver tongue. 

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chewriting

I might be the only person who thinks this, but I don't care. It's been eating me alive.

I think Jace and Kit look alike but the similarities stop at like, general familial resemblance. Especially when Kit actually grows up. Like they share the same nose and furrow of their brows and strangely enough their laugh. But that's where it ends. I've always imagined Jace as like a rugged handsome: with a strong jaw, heavy brow, wide shoulders, and mostly upper body mass (but we all this man does not skip leg day, we've seen him jump). You know like, very MASCULINE beauty.

But Kit has always been this soft blend of feminine and masculine in my head. Because Herondales are notoriously handsome/gorgeous in a powerful way but it mixes with the general androgenous, ethereal beauty of the fae to make something just right between the binary where people look at him and have to think. Like he has high cheekbones and full lips to accompany his sharp jawline and dark eyebrows. And he's definitely leaner than Jace is, a body made for running and slipping between enemies rather than facing them head-on.

And maybe I like the idea of Kit being a little defensive as everyone loves to compare him to Jace so when he gets all prickly with Ty about why he finds him attractive, Ty just lists a dozens ways that he and Jace don't look alike (because of course out of anyone, Ty would notice those things) and Kit just sits there like :o

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hemlockfire

In defense of Cardan

Rereading The Cruel Prince is fascinating, because there was such an effort made to show Cardan as “cruel” in the beginning, and he does do some nasty things. For instance, I don’t think we ever learn if he had a good reason for his random cruel act of tearing the wing of a faerie who didn’t bow to him. That moment has always bothered me and I don’t have an explanation for it. 

And yet, so many of his interactions with Jude can be seen through a different light on a reread after we know his character better. Once we know he does not relish violence and expends a lot of energy avoiding his own humiliation.  

Take the everapple incident during astronomy lessons. 

Valerian and Nicasia certainly wanted to hurt Jude, and Locke was already playing his own twisted game. But knowing what we learn later about Cardan, all his possibly cruel actions go slant and are arguably a kind of protection, the only kind he can offer Jude while being subtle about it.

First, Nicasia starts it - she steals Jude’s notebook and slaps her across the face. 

Cardan looks over, and I can tell from his expression that she has failed to please him.

I’m not sure if Nicasia was trying to please Cardan. It may have been for her own amusement, not his. But he’s already wary and not thrilled about what’s going to happen.

Then Valerian shoves the faerie apple into Jude’s mouth. Nicasia steals her salt, the antidote, before she can reach for it. Valerian shoves the apple back in her mouth, choking her, and Jude begins to black out from lack of air. Someone yells “Do something!” and it’s unclear who - this was probably not Cardan, because it doesn’t seem like his method of intervening. Maybe it was Locke, maybe one of the teachers or bystanders. And then…

   Abruptly, Valerian is kicked off me. I roll onto my side, coughing. Cardan is looming there. Tears and snot are running down my face, but all I can do is lie in the dirt and spit out pieces of sweet, fleshy pulp. I have no idea why I am crying.    “Enough,” Cardan says. He has an odd, wild expression on his face, and a muscle is jumping in his jaw.    I start to laugh.    Valerian looks mutinous. “Ruin my fun, will you?”    For a moment, I think they’re going to fight, although I cannot think why. Then I see what Cardan’s got in his hand. The salt from my basket. The antidote. (Why did I want that? I wonder.) He tosses it up into the air with a laugh, and I watch it scatter with the wind. Then he looks at Valerian, mouth curling. “What’s wrong with you, Valerian? If she dies, your little prank is over before it begins.” 

So Cardan is the one who intervenes to save Jude’s life before Valerian can choke her to death. He’s freaked out, he doesn’t want this, and it’s possible his friends basically know that and are messing with him just as much by messing with Jude. 

He has also gotten his hands on Jude’s salt. Now, why would he have bothered to pick up her salt? It was inside her basket, which Nicasia had, and that’s not the most direct path to an imminently choking Jude. I think he was intending to get her the antidote.

Except then he was caught out in an awkward position where, for just a moment, it looked like he might be helping her - he’s even just pulled Valerian off her. He can’t show that weakness to any of the court teens, least of all his friends. So he improvises and scatters the salt, making it look like he’s part of Valerian’s game. This sucks for Jude, who needed that salt, but it’s also probably the best move to avoid a target on himself and a worse target on Jude, who he’s now reframing as a game, a plaything, not something to completely destroy. While that is still dehumanizing and demoralizing, it is still ultimately safer to downgrade her torment to a fun joke for them, not something that should end in physical harm. He is deescalating a situation he can’t entirely defuse. 

This intentional choice of his, one he hates having to make, is reinforced by the difference between his words and his expression.

   “Prince Cardan?” Noggle says. “She ought to be taken home.”    “Everyone is so dull today,” Cardan says, but he doesn’t sound as if he’s bored. He sounds as if he’s barely keeping his temper in check.

He’s trying to maintain the attitude that this is silly, this is no big deal, but he’s simmering with anger at this assault on Jude, and possibly at the way he must carefully strike this tone so that his friends don’t escalate, or worse, turn on him too. It would be bad for him in general if they turned on him, but it would also leave him with no power to put a stop to how they’re treating Jude.

   Nicasia smiles, holding up the golden thing she has in her hand. The filthy, mashed remains of the apple. “Come lick my hands clean. You don’t mind, do you? But you have to do it on your knees.”    Gasping and tittering spread through our classmates like a breeze. They want me to do it. I want to make them happy. I want everyone to be as happy as I am. And I do want another taste of the fruit. I begin to crawl toward Nicasia.    “No,” Cardan says, stepping in front of me, his voice ringing and a little unsteady. The others back off, giving him room. He toes off his soft leather shoe and puts one pale foot directly in front of me. “Jude will come here and kiss my foot. She said she wanted to kiss us. And I am her prince, after all.”     I laugh again. Honestly, I don’t know why I laughed so infrequently before. Everything is marvelous and ridiculous.    Looking up at Cardan, though, something strikes me as wrong. His eyes are glittering with fury and desire and maybe even shame. A moment later, he blinks, and it’s just his usual chilly arrogance.

Once again, he has saved her from the everapple. Nicasia was not just going to humiliate her, she was also going to drug her more. Cardan had to stop her. 

But he can’t just play the hero here. So he suggests that Jude, who has also just said she would be happy to kiss any of them, kiss his foot. It’s humiliating, sure, but it’s also innocuous compared to Nicasia’s intentions, and kissing his foot will not further drug her. 

He has to keep playing this game to get them both out of this as cleanly as possible. He’s still struggling to keep his fury under wraps, though, and it slips through when Jude looks at him. 

And then Locke becomes an active player in the scene. 

   “Well? Be quick about it,” he says impatiently. “Kiss my foot and tell me how great I am. Tell me how much you admire me.”    “Enough,” Lock says sharply to Cardan. He’s got his hands on my shoulders and is pulling me roughly to my feet. “I’m taking her home.”    “Are you, now?” Cardan asks him, eyebrows raised. “Interesting timing. You like the savor of a little humiliation, just not too much?”    “I hate it when you get like this,” Locke says under his breath.

This exchange is harder to parse. In the moment, it does look like Locke is the only good guy, who is sweeping in to save Jude from Cardan and Nicasia and Valerian. This is how Locke wants it to look, and it is how Jude interprets things immediately after.

But knowing what we learn later about Locke’s character and his intensions, and noting how quietly intrigued he was by this incident up until this moment, it seems that Locke has decided to chime in to play the hero on purpose - he’s seen his in with Jude, and that is acting like he’s on her side and getting her out of this situation. 

Cardan knows all about Locke’s love of “story” and watching things play out, which is why he makes a jab at him that Locke seems to think some humiliation is fine, at least. He’s asking where the line is for Locke, who is acting morally superior when Cardan knows that’s hypocritical. On a first read, it seems that Locke is saying he hates when Cardan gets into a mood to humiliate people. But on rereads, it’s more likely he’s annoyed that Cardan won’t fully surrender himself to the unfolding story in front of them, or allow Locke to move it forward unhindered.

Now, I’m going to take a moment to wildly speculate about a couple things. First, Valerian probably could have come up with this idea and gotten his hands on an apple himself - it’s not like they’re rare, and they’re known to be dangerous for humans. But why now? He’s not that bright - if he wanted to do this to Jude, why hadn’t he done it before? Is it possible that Locke suggested it and/or handed him the apple? Secondly, Lock is the worst, and I think it’s entirely possible that he didn’t only want to play hero by walking Jude home. If he got to have a little “fun” with her on the way home and manipulate her into thinking it was consensual, well, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind that either. We know he sucks. He’s awful. This doesn’t feel like a stretch to me. Jude was not guaranteed to be safe alone with Locke while nearly naked and drugged.

I think Cardan knew or guessed some of that too. 

   Cardan pulls a pin from his coat, a glittering, filigree thing in the shape of an acorn with an oak leaf behind it. For a delirious moment, I think he’s going to give it to Locke in exchange for leaving me there. That seems impossible, even to my wild mind.    Then Cardan takes hold of my hand, which seems even less possible. His fingers are overwarm against my skin. He stabs the point of his pin into my thumb.     “Ow,” I say, pulling away from him and putting the injured digit into my mouth. My own blood is metallic against my tongue.    “Have a nice walk home,” he tells me. […]    I suck on my injured thumb, feeling odd. My head is still swimming, but not like it was. Something’s wrong. A moment later, I realize what. There’s salt in my human blood.

This, to me, feels like Cardan’s most risky move. He might have given himself away to everyone, but he almost certainly did to Locke. While Locke probably already knew how Cardan felt, so he wasn’t revealing anything wholly secret, confirming his feelings could also be dangerous. 

He might have been able to pass it off as a quick moment of cruel harm toward Jude, or even managed to prick her finger without anyone else noticing. 

But crucially, he ensured that she did not walk off alone with Locke while not in her right mind. He did it. He got them out of that situation without revealing any of his feelings (well, he tried - probably only Locke noticed) and made sure Jude, whose human blood he knew would have salt she needed, received the antidote to the everapple’s effects. 

Cardan did make Jude’s life harder throughout their teen years, but I really don’t think he ever intended real harm to come to her. He was a bully, but not a complete villain. And once he had a certain reputation, he had to maintain it and use it, just to navigate through sticky situations when his friends decided to commit villainous acts themselves. 

I could continue on about all the other indications that he has helped or defended humans, but I’ll leave that for another day. 

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roachpatrol

Here’s a story about changelings: 

Mary was a beautiful baby, sweet and affectionate, but by the time she’s three she’s turned difficult and strange, with fey moods and a stubborn mouth that screams and bites but never says mama. But her mother’s well-used to hard work with little thanks, and when the village gossips wag their tongues she just shrugs, and pulls her difficult child away from their precious, perfect blossoms, before the bites draw blood. Mary’s mother doesn’t drown her in a bucket of saltwater, and she doesn’t take up the silver knife the wife of the village priest leaves out for her one Sunday brunch. 

She gives her daughter yarn, instead, and instead of a rowan stake through her inhuman heart she gives her a child’s first loom, oak and ash. She lets her vicious, uncooperative fairy daughter entertain herself with games of her own devising, in as much peace and comfort as either of them can manage.

Mary grows up strangely, as a strange child would, learning everything in all the wrong order, and biting a great deal more than she should. But she also learns to weave, and takes to it with a grand passion. Soon enough she knows more than her mother–which isn’t all that much–and is striking out into unknown territory, turning out odd new knots and weaves, patterns as complex as spiderwebs and spellrings. 

“Aren’t you clever,” her mother says, of her work, and leaves her to her wool and flax and whatnot. Mary’s not biting anymore, and she smiles more than she frowns, and that’s about as much, her mother figures, as anyone should hope for from their child. 

Mary still cries sometimes, when the other girls reject her for her strange graces, her odd slow way of talking, her restless reaching fluttering hands that have learned to spin but never to settle. The other girls call her freak, witchblood, hobgoblin.

“I don’t remember girls being quite so stupid when I was that age,” her mother says, brushing Mary’s hair smooth and steady like they’ve both learned to enjoy, smooth as a skein of silk. “Time was, you knew not to insult anyone you might need to flatter later. ‘Specially when you don’t know if they’re going to grow wings or horns or whatnot. Serve ‘em all right if you ever figure out curses.”

“I want to go back,” Mary says. “I want to go home, to where I came from, where there’s people like me. If I’m a fairy’s child I should be in fairyland, and no one would call me a freak.

“Aye, well, I’d miss you though,” her mother says. “And I expect there’s stupid folk everywhere, even in fairyland. Cruel folk, too. You just have to make the best of things where you are, being my child instead.”

Mary learns to read well enough, in between the weaving, especially when her mother tracks down the traveling booktraders and comes home with slim, precious manuals on dyes and stains and mordants, on pigments and patterns, diagrams too arcane for her own eyes but which make her daughter’s eyes shine.

“We need an herb garden,” her daughter says, hands busy, flipping from page to page, pulling on her hair, twisting in her skirt, itching for a project. “Yarrow, and madder, and woad and weld…”

“Well, start digging,” her mother says. “Won’t do you a harm to get out of the house now’n then.”

Mary doesn’t like dirt but she’s learned determination well enough from her mother. She digs and digs, and plants what she’s given, and the first year doesn’t turn out so well but the second’s better, and by the third a cauldron’s always simmering something over the fire, and Mary’s taking in orders from girls five years older or more, turning out vivid bolts and spools and skeins of red and gold and blue, restless fingers dancing like they’ve summoned down the rainbow. Her mother figures she probably has.

“Just as well you never got the hang of curses,” she says, admiring her bright new skirts. “I like this sort of trick a lot better.”

Mary smiles, rocking back and forth on her heels, fingers already fluttering to find the next project.

She finally grows up tall and fair, if a bit stooped and squinty, and time and age seem to calm her unhappy mouth about as well as it does for human children. Word gets around she never lies or breaks a bargain, and if the first seems odd for a fairy’s child then the second one seems fit enough. The undyed stacks of taken orders grow taller, the dyed lots of filled orders grow brighter, the loom in the corner for Mary’s own creations grows stranger and more complex. Mary’s hands callus just like her mother’s, become as strong and tough and smooth as the oak and ash of her needles and frames, though they never fall still.

“Do you ever wonder what your real daughter would be like?” the priest’s wife asks, once.

Mary’s mother snorts. “She wouldn’t be worth a damn at weaving,” she says. “Lord knows I never was. No, I’ll keep what I’ve been given and thank the givers kindly. It was a fair enough trade for me. Good day, ma’am.”

Mary brings her mother sweet chamomile tea, that night, and a warm shawl in all the colors of a garden, and a hairbrush. In the morning, the priest’s son comes round, with payment for his mother’s pretty new dress and a shy smile just for Mary. He thinks her hair is nice, and her hands are even nicer, vibrant in their strength and skill and endless motion.  

They all live happily ever after.

*

Here’s another story: 

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huffylemon

“Sunset over the Grocery Box,” by me. The view from my father’s front yard in January 2014.

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bondsmagii

“Sunset at the End of My Driveway (Excluding Pavements Covered With the Shite of One Million Dogs)” by me.

“Sunset from My Front Yard Taken on an iPod Touch in 2010″

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hydrojinn

“Sunset in Nov 2021 Taken in the Parking Lot of the Pharmacy”

“sunset from the parking lot of the diner taken on an iphone 5 in 2016”

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vimbry

the view across the road partially eclipsed by house, 2017

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xxtc-96xx

Taken from a stepladder putting up Christmas lights

-2014, front yard

“Brewing Storm on an Evening Commute”

And “Finally, no Power Lines”

-Sept. 30, 2020, passenger seat of a moving Buick

Behind a near-defunct mall in super small-town OK. HUGE rays.

congrats on re-creating do you like the colours of the sky, lads

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chewriting

the closet can be a freeing as it is restricting

Relationship: Kit Herondale x Ty Blackthorn; Kit Herondale & Livvy Blackthorn

Word Count: 7.3k+

Read on Ao3

Content Warnings: references to past bullying with homophobic language, a brief panic attack, and vague references to an adult concert goer flirting with Dru even though she's fifteen

Summary: You know how there are things you know about yourself in the present day and you look back at your past and think: shit I was always this way, wasn't I? Passing through forests of clothes while shopping with his mom, subtly brushing his fingers along the array of fabrics, he feels that all too familiar tug deep within his chest that's had years of practice trying to suppress. He knows its name but never dares utter it unless he's the only one awake in a darkened house, or else it might come alive and swallow him whole.

Longing.

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By the pricking of our thumbs...

Something wicked this way comes! 🦇💀🕯

Good morrow, friends and foes. It is with great pleasure that we announce our third annual Folktober revel! The hour is upon us when we, humble servants of time and magic that we are, ask for the boon of your presence at this event.

HOW IT WORKS:
  • Reblog this post to spread the word!
  • Join our Discord (optional)
  • Peruse our spell book (post coming soon) in the following weeks to decide how you will ensorcel us all!
  • The Folk of the Air fanfics, fanart, edits, headcanons, and cosplay are all welcome at this revel!
  • The first week of the revel will be 1-7 October and the second week of the revel will be 25-31 October.
  • Who can join? Ghouls, vampires, witches, werebeasts… Anyone at any time! You don’t need to register or ask permission. You can join for 1 prompt day, or all 14.
  • Remember to tag BOTH @jurdannet AND @jurdannetrevels when you post so we can reblog your works and let others join in the revelry of your creations!
  • We’ll be tracking #jurdannetfolktober2021 (no spaces) and we will encourage our followers to track that tag, too.
  • Remember Jurdannet is simply the host of this revel. We are not sourcing creators or content! We’re here to boost YOUR content on our platform for the fandom to revel in.

So grab your sharpest knife and get ready to carve some (pumpkin) flesh, because the season of spooks is upon us!

–𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔠𝔦𝔩 🎃👻

New to the coven and have a question? Feel free to contact us here at @jurdannetrevels or @jurdannet , or any of the Living Council at their personal accounts: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @clockworkgraystairs @booksandlewks @kevin-day-is-bi @ghoustlysoul
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why are star wars planets more boring than earth and our solar system like sure we’ve seen desert, snow, diff types of forest, beach, lava, rain, but like… 

rainbow mountains (peru)

red soil (canada/PEI)

rings (saturn’s if they were on earth) 

bioluminescent waves

northern lights (canada)

salt flats (bolivia, where they filmed crait but did NOTHING COOL WITH IT except red dust?? like??? come ON)

and cool fauna like the touch me not or like, you know, the venus flytrap.. and don’t get me started on BUGS like… we have bugs cooler than sw aliens

BASICALLY like???? come on star wars you had one (1) job where are the cool alien species

I KNOW!! I did a report on filming locations in Star Wars last year and just made a list of places that looked so surreal they could make a convincing other planet. You covered some on my list but if I could just add a couple more:

Tsingy di Bemaraha, Madagascar

Zhangye Danxia, China (similar to the Rainbow Mountains in terms of appearance)

Chocolate Hills, Philippines

Giant’s Causeway, Northern Ireland

So many missed opportunities with cool ass things on Earth, Lucasfilms smh…

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memcjo

Earth is effing amazing!

Quebrada de Humahuaca, Argentina

Lake Retba, Senegal

Tepui, Venezuela

Tianzi Mountains, China

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bunjywunjy

these would make amazing Star Wars planets OR fantasy material:

Tsingy du Bemaraha, Madagascar again (but a different part)

(those are razor-sharp, if you were wondering. very little of this area has been explored because YIKES)

Lake Natron, Tanzania

(looks cool, but is alkaline enough to Kill Your Shit)

Lake Baikal, Russia

(the deepest lake in the world, seriously)

and I’ll wrap it up with Son Doong Cave, Vietnam, the largest cave in the entire world.

it puts anything Dagobah has to offer to absolute shame:

(seriously, the largest chamber is 660 feet high. you could jam a fucking skyscraper in there and still lose it

anyway I really like caves thanks for coming to my ted talk

If I’m ever gonna make a movie with cool weird alien features I’m first gonna ask the internet for weird, wonderful places on earth to look at for inspiration.

I’d like to contribute!

Namib-Naukluft Park in Namibia

Cave of Crystals, Mexico

Socotra Island, Yemen

Crooked Forest, Poland (look at their funky little trunks they look like they’re doing the Michael Jackson lean)

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Herongraystairs Incorrect Quotes

Because it’s been a while

Will: You’re a lying piece of shit! Tessa: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot that thinks you can get away with everything you do, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD! Will: I’m leaving and I’m taking Jem with me! Jem, gathering cards: Aaaaand that’s enough Monopoly for today.

x

Jem, whispering to Will, who’s on the phone with Tessa: Ask her something! Will: How are you feeling? Tessa: Fine. Jem: Something personal! Will: At what age did you first get your period?

x

Jem: Let me show you a picture from last night that really upset me Will: Okay, but in my defense, Jessie bet me 50 cents I couldn’t drink all that shampoo. Jem: That’s not what I wanted to- you drank SHAMPOO?!

x

Tessa, driving Will and Jem: So how was your day? Will: We almost got surprise adopted! Tessa: What? Jem: We almost got kidnapped. Tessa: Oh, okay. Tessa: *slams on the breaks*: WAIT WHAT?!

x

Jem: I’m worried about Will Tessa: Same, he called me in the middle of the night and just yelled, “what do I do, what do I do, what do I do, what do I do?” Jem: And what’d you say? Tessa: “I dunno, I dunno, I dunno, I dunno.” Jem: Jem: I’m so lucky to have the two of you as my friends

x

Jem: Coca Cola can remove rust from metal, imagine what it’s doing to your body. Will: Pfff, getting rid of the rust, idiot. Jem: THAT’S NOT HOW IT WORKS! Will: Hmm… I’ve been drinking soda and my body’s rust free… not sure where you’re getting your facts from…

x

Jem: What if mayonnaise came in cans? Will: Well, that would such because you can’t microwave metal. Tessa: Good morning to everyone except these two people.

x

Will: Due to personal reasons, I will be fucking sinking to the bottom of the ocean in a large metal box. Jessamine: Did Jem say ‘I love you’ and you said 'Thanks’? Will: THE REASONS ARE PERSONAL–

x

Tessa: *pitches an idea* Will, impressed: Huh, there might be something here! Jem, under his breath: Yeah, a lawsuit.

x

Will: You know you’ve made it when you see your picture everywhere you go. Jem: Those are wanted posters!

x

Will: Life keeps fucking me and I can’t remember the safeword.

x

Tessa: Will annoyed me today so I told him that I can’t wait to see what he has planned for our special day tomorrow. Jem: There is nothing special about tomorrow. Tessa: But there is something special about watching the color leave his face as panic takes over.

x

Tessa: Ducks are better than rabbits. Will: What? Rabbits are adorable. Have you ever been in a fight with a duck? Ducks are jerks. Tessa: Duck is delicious! Rabbit is all gamey. Will: We’re not talking about flavour, Tess! Tessa: Flavour counts! Will: Who carries around a duck’s foot for good luck? Anyone? Tessa: You wrap yourself in a comforter stuffed with rabbit hair. I’ll wrap myself in a comforter stuffed with duck feathers! Who’s cozier? Will: Okay, but- Tessa: NO, NO, NO, NO. WHO’S COZIER? Will: Then why don’t we take a rabbit, a duck, stick ‘em in a cardboard box and let them fight it out! Tessa: BECAUSE IT’S ILLEGAL, Will! Will: ONLY IF WE BET ON IT, Theresa! Jem: I- By the angel-

x

Tessa: So, what is Will to you? Jem: The reason I wake up every morning. Tessa: That’s so adorable. Will earlier that morning, barging into Jem′s room, smacking pans together: WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP!!!

x

Jem: I love them both, but how do I propose to two people? Jessamine: Two different restaurants, one person at each restaurant. Twice the dessert, twice the applause. Jem: Won’t people think it’s weird if there is a third person just sitting there, though? Jessamine: I saw someone feed their pet peacock crème brûlée from their mouth at the French place on the corner last week: I think faux third-wheeling at an engagement is the least of your worries.

x

Will: *slams books down in front of Jem* Will: Boil up some Mountain Dew. It’s gonna be a long night. Jem: You could have said literally anything else. Will: Cauldron boil and cauldron bubble, Baja Blast to fuel my trouble. Jem: I’m going to just stop challenging you when you say random shit. I won’t win. I realize this now.

x

Tessa: Fight me! Will and Jem, standing behind her and holding knives: *silently* Do not.

x

Jem: We all have our demons. Jem, grabbing Will: This one’s mine.

x

Tessa: Hi, sorry I’m late. I was doing a couple of things and got distracted. Will: I’m “a couple of things”. Jem: I’m “got distracted”.

x

Jem: I didn’t drink that much last night. Jessamine: You were flirting with Will and Tessa. Jem: So what? We’re dating. Jessamine: You asked if they were single. Jessamine: And then you cried when they said they weren’t.

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I think this is super important to remember.

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rubyvroom

No kill shelters result in animals dumped on the highway and tossed in the river because the rescues wont take them. That’s the part they never tell you.

Meanwhile the spca will take every animal, and if they have to euthanize them at least it will be done kindly and not via neglect or cruelty.

Because people in the notes are not getting this, let me explain:

No-kill shelters TURN AWAY animals. When they’re full - and they often are because most of these no-kill shelters are small - they stop taking them in. While they are “taking their time to find the right homes for every single animal”, many other animals never get in the door. Somehow they don’t count those animals, or track what happens to them. A success for them doesn’t include the ones they turned away. They’re taking their time because they can. 

The No-Kills who brag about 100% adoption rates are the worst, because they tend to reject the most. The animals who will be difficult to adopt out? They just don’t take those. Special needs? Too old? If they’re going to be hard to adopt out, they can claim to be full, even if they’re not. 

They are telling owners they absolutely cannot take their fifteen year old cat because they are full of litters of kittens. Adorable kittens that will turn over quickly, and boost their adoption numbers. So what happens to the fifteen year old cat? After days of being rejected at the shelters they get dumped on the side of the road somewhere, or worse. 

You cannot imagine the VOLUME of animals that a city shelter deals with. The kill shelters are not allowed to turn anyone away. The difficult cases, the special needs, the elderly, the feral. The dog that bites, the cat that pees everywhere. Every animal is going to be taken in and treated with kindness. They are going to be assessed and treated for their fleas and conditions and behavioral problems. They will get their time on the adoption floor. They will get the best chance possible to find a new home. And if it’s not possible, they will be humanely euthanized, and that cage space will go to the next animal who is already waiting for it. It never stops. While you were working on the paperwork to adopt out 1 cat, three people brought in 4 more. It’s a numbers game that you cannot win if you aren’t turning people away.

A lot of times kill shelters get the animals that the no-kill shelters refused to take. Maybe their owners bring them. Or maybe they got literally thrown in the garbage, abandoned, or put in a bag and tossed in the river, when the no-kill shelter said they were full. The police and rescuers will bring these poor injured animals to the city shelter where they will be cared for. The volunteers will spend days and weeks trying to wash the tar out of their fur, or treat their broken bones, or whatever other horrible thing has happened to them. They will feed and house them. They will put most of them in new homes. They will save many many more animals, by orders of magnitude, than a no-kill shelter ever will. A no-kill shelter will brag about dozens or maybe hundreds of  adoptions. Kill shelters are dealing in thousands of successful adoptions, and they still have to euthanize because it just isn’t enough. There are just so many animals to take in.

And then, after all this, the No-Kill Shelters get to claim the moral high ground somehow, and self-righteous types will refuse to adopt from the only shelter that takes absolutely everyone. It’s infuriating. 

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cyanwrites

queer is a slur, grow up

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‘Queer’ was reclaimed as an umbrella term for people identifying as not-heterosexual and/or not-cisgender in the early 1980s, but being queer is more than just being non-straight/non-cis; it’s a political and ideological statement, a label asserting an identity distinct from gay and/or traditional gender identities.People identifying as queer are typically not cis gays or cis lesbians, but bi, pan, ace, trans, nonbinary, intersex, etc.: we’re the silent/ced letters. We’re the marginalised majority within the LGBTQIA+ community, and‘queer’ is our rallying cry.

And that’s equally pissing off and terrifying terfs and cis LGs.

There’s absolutely no historical or sociolinguistic reason why ‘queer’ should be a worse slur than ‘gay.’ Remember how we had all those campaigns to make people stop using ‘gay’ as a synonym for ‘bad’?

Yet nobody is suggesting we should abolish ‘gay’ as a label. We accept that even though ‘gay’ sometimes is and historically frequently was used in a derogatory manner, mlm individuals have the right to use that word. We have ad campaigns, twitter hashtags, and viral Facebook posts defending ‘gay’ as an identity label and asking people to stop using it as a slur.

Whereas ‘queer’ is treated exactly opposite: a small but vocal group of people within feminist and LGBTQIA+ circles insists that it’s a slur and demands that others to stop using it as a personal, self-chosen identity label.

Why?

Because “queer is a slur” was invented by terfs specifically to exclude trans, nonbinary, and intersex people from feminist and non-heterosexual discourse, and was subsequently adopted by cis gays and cis lesbians to exclude bi/pan and ace people.

It’s classic divide-and-conquer tactics: when our umbrella term is redefined as a slur and we’re harassed into silence for using it, we no longer have a word for what we are allowing us to organise for social/political/economic support; we are denied the opportunity to influence or shape the spaces we inhabit; we can’t challenge existing community power structures; we’re erased from our own history.

Pro tip: when you alter historical evidence to deny a marginalised group empowerment, you’re one of the bad guys.

“Queer is a slur” is used by terfs and cis gays/lesbians to silence the voices of trans/nonbinary/intersex/bi/pan/ace people in society and even within our own communities, to isolate us and shame us for existing.

“Queer is a slur” is saying “I am offended by people who do not conform to traditional gender or sexual identities because they are not sexually available to me or validate my personal identity.”

“Queer is a slur” is defending heteronormativity.

“Queer is a slur” is frankly embarrassing. It’s an admission of ignorance and prejudice. It’s an insidious discriminatory discourse parroted uncritically in support of a divisive us-vs-them mentality targeting the most vulnerable members of the LGBTQIA+ community for lack of courage to confront the white cis straight men who pose an actual danger to us as individuals and as a community.

Tl;dr:

I’m here, I’m queer, and I’m too old for this shit.

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I know I keep reblogging posts like this, but it matters to me. “Queer is a slur” is a TERF dogwhistle, and a lot of the younger generation is falling for it. Please pay attention to history and ask questions about who’s behind social media campaigns that undermine the inclusivity of your community.

Queer is an excellent word, especially when your identity doesn’t fit neatly within one little label. Queer is also an explicit rejection of normative expectations sexuality and gender. It’s radical as fuck.

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thinksnake

Queer is saying “if you don’t understand my identity, that sounds like a you problem”

Don’t be fooled by the black and white, this picture is from the early 1990s. I believe Queer Nation itself was founded in 1991.

Same group, but I want you to look at that slogan at the bottom. That was the movement’s rallying cry for YEARS. L, G, B, T, Q, I, and A. All of us. That’s what we screamed when we were dying of AIDS and what we screamed when we were being beaten to death and what we screamed demanding the right to see our partners in the hospital. I’ve personally screamed a variant of it, “we’re here, we’re queer, we want our civil rights” marching down Pennsylvania Avenue with thousands of other queers demanding marriage equality and an end to queer-discriminated adoption. (You’re fucking welcome.) This slogan was often paired with “not gay as in happy, but queer as in fuck you.”

Show from 1999. Around the same time, there was a show on called “The L Word.” That’s right–“queer” was more acceptable than “lesbian.”

2003.

Learn your history. “Queer is a slur” only if you’re a TERF. Otherwise it is a blanket term over three-quarters of the community uses.

We’re here.

We’re queer.

GET USED TO IT.

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3liza

the other thing is I feel like kids are not aware, despite constant and hilarious/tragic drama around precisely this issue, that people can just lie about all that stuff on their carrd. you can just make it up. the 50 year old pederast is filling out his carrd rn so that he will be instantly welcomed into the teen otherkin shifter group chat and he is looking for anyone with psychosis and gullibility on their carrds so he can groom them with tone indicators. youre making it easier for this guy, not harder.

I see teens insist people put their race in their card like white people haven’t been pretending to be black online and say the n word since the beginning of the internet

its like everyone online knows about dozens of examples of con artists doing sneaky shit, this is our main source of gossip on here, but still go right back to baby brain "you really think someone would do that? just go on the internet and tell lies?" as soon as they close the tab with the youtube drama explainer on it

btw its not just pederasts. its also cops. and feds. and nazis

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lynati

Making your age available will *attract* the kind of predators you’re hoping to avoid. And your “adults DNI” might as well be a beacon for those who are looking for someone unlikely to have any friends old enough to recognize red flags when they hear about them. This is NOT how you keep yourselves safe.

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megpie71

Essentially the rule is: do not hand people who do not have your best interests at heart anything which will allow them to hurt you.  How do you know they don’t have your best interests at heart?  Well, to be deadly honest, if you’ve grown up being bullied you probably already know this: presume NOBODY has your best interests at heart on first meeting, and wait for them to demonstrate otherwise.

(Yes, it’s a horrible way to live.  Hi, welcome to what it’s like being minority-identified in Western cultures, and some of you should already know this!)

But putting every single risk factor out there where people can find it and see it and use it against you?  Anyone who willingly does this is a fool who has clearly never been bullied before, and anyone who insists you have to do this is most likely a bully who wants you to make it easy for them to hurt you.  Anyone who is demanding your age, sex (including gender identity or sexual preferences) and location deserves NONE of these (or if you feel you must give them something, go as general as possible).  This goes double for your triggers, your identifiers, and all the rest.  Heck, don’t even give away the information that’s linked to things like password retrieval questions - your credit rating will thank you.

Do not put anything out there you are not okay with your worst enemy knowing.

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