#// he is a bit doctor frankenstein

[chiropteracupola]

A strange dissection.

[sleeplessdreamer14]

I’m just gonna say it; Moira would make a much better Dr. Frankenstein than Junkrat. If you’ve read Mary Shelley’s book, you know what I mean.

[wildcreativemastermind]

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley Review

Based on what bits I had gleaned from pop culture, I had expected this book to be very different than it was. I was expecting it to be simple. I was expecting it to really try to be scary. Possibly good if you're into monster stories, maybe some content to make you sad, but really not much to make you think.

What I got was very different. On scary, it's a terrifying situation, but the book is honestly more of a tragedy than a horror. I didn't come away from it scared, I came away from it more contemplative (and pondering happy aus).

For my thoughts without spoilers, this book was better than I had thought it would be. I'm generally not into horror, but it's a compelling story. It's pretty easy to read. If you have any amount of interest in reading the book I suggest you do so. The one thing I will warn you about is that Victor (the main character) gets into a relationship with his cousin/adoptive sibling (so a bit of incest tones).

some advice if you haven't read the book 1. don't rely on (or honestly even read or watch) a summary before checking out the book. everyone who's read it has certain opinions about the characters (I'm mainly talking Victor Frankenstein, but this applies to the other characters too) and I think the experience is better if you don't have your opinion on the characters influenced by others beforehand. 2. be prepared for it take awhile to get to the monster stuff. 3. there are 2 versions of Frankenstein (story is basically the same, but the later publication was heavily edited) it was first published in 1818, and an edited version was published in 1831. The later one tends to be the more popular one. If you want to read the original version, you may have to specify like "frankenstein 1818"

My thoughts with some spoilers are under the cut. I strongly recommend you do not read anything under the cut unless you have read the entire book already.

Characters

Victor Frankenstein

A self-centered asshole with no regard for consequences. I applaud Mary Shelley for being able to get me invested in Victor's life. I do not usually get invested in asshole protagonists. I generally want my protagonist to be a good person, but Victor Frankenstein is not a good person.

However, he is interesting and honestly, pretty understandable. He's not the most relatable protagonist in that he's far more privileged than the vast majority of people (he's part of a wealthy and very accepting of him family, he's extremely scientifically intelligent) though there were a couple of moments where I found him to be a relatable character.

I understood why he was making terrible decisions, but I still wanted to slap him.

the Creature

I was kind of surprised about his character. He's beautiful and intelligent, which I did not expect when I started the book. While he's sympathetic, he very much is a monster. I did feel sorry for him, but also he's a murderer and he knows murder is wrong, so it's not like he's really someone to root for.

Henry Clerval

best boy, he deserved better

Elizabeth

Was she even really a character? Ok, I didn't really care about her. Her death was sad I guess, but I wasn't really sad about her dying so much as annoyed at Victor for not thinking of someone other than himself for two seconds. She seems to exist to show us what the Frankenstein's are like (only willing to adopt her because she's blonde) and to be murdered to hurt Victor. She is Victor's canon love interest, but she didn't really have chemistry with him. Normally I don't really do the 'going for non-canon gay couple over canon straight couple' thing fandom likes to do, but in this case there is actually more chemistry between Victor and Henry than there is between Victor and Elizabeth. Plus Victor and Henry aren't related and weren't raised as siblings so...

We don't really get Elizabeth's thoughts on her relationship with Victor, which is basically her entire character once she's been taken in by the Frankenstein's, and what little we do get I'm not sure can be entirely trusted.

Non character stuff

I was slightly annoyed at how long it took to get through Robert Walton's section at the beginning. I don't dislike him, but I knew this wasn't his story so I spent chunk of his part thinking 'get to the story already!' I get what Shelley was doing, though I think that part could have been a little shorter.

Aside from that, I don't have any complaints. The book is really good. I felt for both Victor and the creature. While I'm not gonna want to read it all the time, I do think I will revisit this book more than once.

[marvelwitchergilmore]

Daisies and Haircuts

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Usually, Logan can get a read on everybody. Except, when it comes to you, he can't. So he makes it his mission to find out the truth, but when he does...he doesn't exactly know how to take the news.

Disclaimer: Mostly fluff with a bit of angst, some steam towards the end. Descriptions of blood, casualties and aftermath of a tornado. Not Proof Read.

If there was one thing Logan prided himself on, it was being able to tell when people were lying or telling the truth. 

However, from the minute he met you…he didn’t have an explanation for it. 

Most of the time, he could hear people’s heartbeats or their breathing. Both would quicken when they were lying. Even the best liars couldn’t hide from him. 

But there was something about you he just couldn’t shake. Your voice didn’t change or shake, your heartbeat didn’t speed or falter - neither did your breathing. 

And yet he didn’t believe a word you said when it came to you being human. 

Professor Xavier had reached out to you to fill in one of the teaching positions when he met your cousin. And from his knowledge, your entire family was mutant. From grandmother, to grandfather, to cousins, to even siblings. 

And somehow, you were the only human. 

No mutant gene detected. 

And even if his school did have a reputation for having mutant teachers, you were the first human to attend the school in any manner. 

“Logan, if you’re gonna just stand there all day, you might as well offer to help.”

Your back was completely turned to him. You had been writing on the whiteboard for the last five minutes, not once looking anywhere near the door where he was leaning. 

“How did you know it was me?”

You chuckled a little as he walked inside, picking up a pile of books on the way in. “Please, I could smell the cigar smoke.”

Logan shrugged, placing two books at the end of each desk as he made his way to you. “You know, I can scare Storm, Jean- even Scott. But never you. I wonder why that is?”

Logan stood beside you as you turned. He was looking at you like how he always did. A knowing smile (maybe it was a smirk), but a look of wonder and curiosity in his eyes. 

You just smiled up at him. “Logan, I grew up with over twelve cousins. There wasn’t a day when you didn’t have to have eyes in the back of your head, and still at least one kid ended up hurting themselves.”

Walking around him and back to your desk, his eyes followed you. 

“That’s not the only thing.”

“What ‘thing’ exactly?” 

Sometimes it felt like this conversation between you and Logan happened every other day. You had been working at the school for a little over a year, and before that had shadowed for at least six months to understand how to truly help your kids. 

He had been like this since day one. 

Maybe a little more gruffer and scarier in the beginning…he had made you jump just a little when you closed the fridge door and found him standing there with that sceptical, over-protective look on his face. 

“You know what ‘thing’.”

You shook your head. “I really don’t, Logan.”

He walked closer to your desk and leaned his hands against it, coming face to face with you. “You’re a mutant.”

As he was so close, your eyes scanned his face and around his body. “You need a haircut.”

“It’s not something to be ashamed of.”

“I can cut it for you. Just take a little bit off the sides.” 

“Why do you keep avoiding the subject?” Logan asked with a laughing smile as he stood back up. 

“Because you seriously need a haircut, Logan.” You moved your fingers through the top of his hair. “You look like a crazed mountain man who’s just escaped from Frankenstien’s lab.”

Logan stepped away from you during your analogy. “Are you calling me a green monster?”

“Frankenstein is the Doctor.” 

“Huh.”

You shook your head. “Either way, you need a haircut.”

“Fine, but I will get it out of you sooner or later.” 

“Goodbye, Logan.”

Those were Logan’s final words before he left your classroom, but not before taking a final look at you as your head was turned. 

The next time he saw you was just before lunch when a couple of kids were playing a round of football outside. And for a while, Logan’s eyes remained on you as you read your book. It was like the world didn’t exist outside of your book. 

And yet you were tuned in to everything that was happening. 

Logan heard one of the kids shout before the ball went flying past the posts and it was heading straight for you. He could barely finish shouting your name before…

You caught it. 

Without looking up, you had caught the ball in your hands, simply looked up and then threw it back. “Be careful!”

“Sorry!”

Logan was a little in shock as he stood at the top of the stairs, his arms folded across his chest. He’d seen your reflexes a few times before. You had caught plenty of mugs that were about to fall off the side of the counter, just as you walked into the room. You’d also stopped piles of books crashing loudly to the ground, opened windows just as tennis balls came flying at them, as well as catching them and throwing them back. 

And now you had caught a football without even looking up. 

You hadn’t been at the school two years and yet Logan practically had a list tallied in his head of the things that had happened that simply couldn’t just be explained away. 

Could they?

“Oh, come on. Just admit it. You’re a mutant.”

Your lungs were tired of sighing. “Logan. I’m not a mutant.”

“Your entire family has the mutant gene.”

“So,” you shrugged, twisting some pepper into the pot before replacing the cap and setting it on the side. “It skipped me.”

“Your reflexes are barely human.”

“Logan, like I have told you a million times, I grew up around a lot of kids. A lot of mutant kids who had no control over their powers. I had to get good reflexes just to save on the amount we spend on broken windows.”

Logan moved out of your way as you walked across the kitchen, taking a couple of things from the fridge. 

“You never get scared.”

You looked back at him. “Are you calling me brave?”

“Nobody can scare you, Y/n. Last Halloween it was like you knew when someone was hiding around the corner.”

“It was Halloween. Everyone tries to scare each other on Halloween.”

Logan closed his eyes in frustration for a moment. “Not even Halloween. Nobody can scare you. Even today, you knew I was standing by your door.”

Stopping what you were doing, you looked at him. “Logan, when it comes to you, I can smell the cigar smoke a mile away. And, besides growing up in a household where it was normal to try and scare each other, nobody in this school is exactly going to be the next Prima Ballerina.”

Logan’s arm practically shot out. “That’s another thing! Your sense of smell.”

You rolled your eyes. “Is this about the cigar smoke? Are you becoming nose blind to it?”

“You smelt Scott’s burnt breakfast before the rest of us did. You knew when Rogue had changed her shampoo. You even knew Storm had planted some new flowers in the garden.”

You went to open your mouth but Logan cut you off. 

“And don’t say you saw the flowers because you were with me that whole afternoon and didn’t see Storm until after dinner.”

You sighed. “It wasn’t because I saw the flowers. I was going to say I saw the dirt on her hands when she walked inside. Plus, I knew she was looking to plant more flowers in the garden beds.”

Logan leaned forward. “Did you have a conversation about it?”

“About the flowers?”

“Because I don’t remember her telling us when she was going to plant them because she wanted them to be a surprise.”

You shrugged. “The dirt still gave it away.”

Logan shook his head. “That’s another one right there. You know…how do you know what we’re all thinking? I know you’re not reading our minds because if you were, it would be like when the Professor or Jean does it. No…it’s something else.” 

Logan was truly watching you. Studying you. Listening to your heartbeat. Listening to your breathing. 

“I was a psych major. I studied my ass off and read up extra things in my time. It’s not so hard.” You explained to Logan. “Most of the time it’s just body language. And remembering the small things. They go a long way in getting to know who a person is.”

“I don’t think it’s just that. Maybe it’s part of it.” Logan sat up straight. “But that’s not your whole story.”

“Why are you so fixed on my story?”

Except, rather than explain, Logan gave you that smile again and walked towards the door. “You’re the psych major, you figure it out.”

“You still need a haircut!”

And like clockwork, Logan was watching you and then questioning you everyday. He’d done it since day one. 

When would he finally realise you were telling him the truth?

A couple of weeks later, you found yourself inside the Professor’s office with Logan and a potential new student and their parents. 

Only, it soon became clear that as much as their child was finally happy to be somewhere where they didn’t stick out like a sore thumb because of their powers, the parents couldn’t have been more uncomfortable. 

“But what about…what about his mutant…problem?” 

You felt your back become straighter as your feet carried you forward, only to feel a small tug from the bottom of your jumper where Logan’s hand was pulling you back to stand beside him. 

“I can assure you, Harry’s mutation is not a problem.”

“Yeah? Tell that to the three teachers he had quit because of him. You know we can’t even walk down our street without parents judging us for letting their kids' favourite teachers walk out on them.”

Harry seemed to fall into himself. “I already said sorry. I didn’t mean for them to-”

“Harry, it’s quite alright. Sometimes people don’t fully understand what it means to teach a mutant like us. Luckily, we have some of the best teachers right here.”

The father looked at both you and Logan. “These are the best?”

“We have a full staff, however most are teaching right now. Harry, this is Professor Logan. He will be your new History teacher and this is Professor Y/n. She will be teaching you some English, but mostly Social Sciences. She is also our school councillor, so if you ever feel you wish to speak to someone, she is the most qualified for the job.”

Harry gave both you and Logan a small smile. 

He moved into his dorm a week later and started classes almost immediately. 

“Okay, fine. Let me ask you this then.”

Logan hadn’t left you alone all day, so you had finally put him to work. Carrying the pile of books you were pulling from the shelves as you rolled along on the ladder. 

“Why give a human a job of school counsellor in a school filled with mutants?”

“Other than the fact I’m qualified for the job.”

Logan shrugged. “Isn’t it better to put someone into the job who understands what the kid is going through? Rather than just put a diagnosis to it?”

You turned round and he looked up to you. “It doesn’t matter if your human or mutant, everyone has gone through something at some point. Maybe I don’t know what it’s like to be able to walk through walls, or have metal grow out of my knuckles. But I do know what it’s like to feel like an outcast. To feel lost. To feel alone.”

Logan just listened as you slowly turned back and started pulling the desired books from the shelves, adding them to the pile in his arms. 

“I might have gone to a normal school, but everyone knew my family was different. I was too mutant to fit in at school, but too human to fit in with my family. They love me, and I love them. But there were times when topics would come up and…I’d feel alone. Like because I wasn’t one of you, I wouldn’t get it. Eventually, everyone grew up and went on with their lives. Of course it wasn’t easy for them, but they still had each other. Even if every other ignorant asshole pushed them away, they still had each other. But some days it felt like…like I had no one.”

Logan just continued to listen. 

“So, I get your point. What would a human know about being a mutant? But sometimes that’s not the question that needs to be asked.”

A moment of silence passed between you both before finally Logan spoke up. “The kids…they’re lucky to have you.”

“Thank you, Logan.”

“And just so you know,” he added. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Looking down at him, you smiled. “I’m glad.”

Twenty minutes later, you were finished collecting books. Yet, just as Logan laid down the pile, half should have fallen onto the floor. 

Except they didn’t. 

Instead they glided off the top and landed in a semi-neat pile beside him with a soft thud. Logan turned around, shock clear on his face. But you weren’t looking at him, or at the pile. You were closing the doors to the outside balcony on the opposite end of the room. 

“One day,” Logan told himself. “One day.”

“What?”

Logan looked up. “Nothing.”

You just shrugged and walked to stand beside him. “Thanks for helping me.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Without looking at him, you flip over the cover of a book in your hands. “You still need a haircut by the way.”

“Don’t mention that, either.”

Two weeks later, as you and Logan were eating lunch together whilst marking some papers, there was a knock at your classroom door. 

Taking a bite of the chicken salad you had made him a bowl of, Logan flipped a paper round and handed it to you. “What does that say? I swear this kid just writes in scribbles.”

You took the page from him. “This is Rogue’s. Isn’t she your little sister or something? Shouldn’t you be fluent in this by now?”

“She’s not my sister. We just came here together. She was a runaway. Found me when I was a cage fighter and stowed away in the back of my trailer.”

Your eyes practically bugged out of your head before you tried your best to hide your smile. “You were a…cage fighter? You? Logan Howlett, as I live and breathe? You sat opposite me with your feet on my desk? You were a cage fighter?”

Logan rolled his eyes with a smile. “Okay, okay. Alright. I get it.”

You shook your head. “I mean, you’ve got the physique for it, I just…” you laughed. “I just never pictured you as a cage fighter. A cage fighter, really?”

“Are you done?”

You bit back another laugh. “I’m-” It came out. “Okay, yes.” You laughed again. “I’m done. Okay, okay,” you breathed through it. “I’m done.”

Logan just gave you a look and raised his eyebrow. 

You nodded with a wide smile. “I’m done. Finished. Promise.”

You even made a cross above your heart. Logan smiled and turned back to marking the papers as you read Rogue’s. 

“What did you picture me as?” 

You hummed a questioned response. 

“You didn’t picture me as a cage fighter.” You held in a laugh. “Stop it.” You tried. “What did you see me as?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. A lumberjack? Bodyguard? A cowboy? Your tags say ‘Army’ but your personality says ‘Macho Man with a Protective Streak’.”

Logan hid his blush well as he turned his head away, the smile on his face not going unnoticed by you. “Alright.”

You loved seeing Logan smile. It wasn’t often he did it, but when he did…you wanted to take a picture. 

Unbeknownst to you, Logan loved it, too. Maybe he wanted to keep up his reputation for how you saw him, as well as for how others saw him. But one thing he was glad of…most of the time when he did smile…it was with you. 

However, as you both shared a laugh, a knock came from your classroom door where you looked to find one of your cousin’s standing by the door. 

“I…there may have been a tiny accident.”

Pulling your own feet from your desk, you sat up and met your cousin half way across your classroom just as Logan pulled his feet from your desk and turned in his chair. 

“Show me.”

Your cousin held out their hand to you. A deep gash was in the middle. 

“Oohhhh kay.” You looked around you. “Logan, open up my top drawer in my desk. There should be some bandages.”

Logan did as you instructed and threw them to you. You caught them and turned back to your cousin. “How did this happen?”

“We were walking through the clearing. I slipped and tried to grab onto a tree branch.”

“And that caused the cut?” You asked as you wrapped their hand.

“Not exactly. I kinda…missed. And grabbed onto a rock instead.”

Logan stood beside you. “You must have found the sharpest rock in the forest.”

He said what you were thinking. 

“How long will it take to heal?”

“That’ll depend.”

“On what?”

“On if you’re thinking about trying to climb the tree again.”

Your cousin panicked. “B-but we weren’t.”

Logan detected a lie. 

“I have known you, your whole life.” You leaned in a little closer. “You need to stop climbing trees after it’s been raining.”

“Okay, fine.”

You took in a small breath. “It should be healed in a couple of hours. Just…wait until it’s dry before you do any more climbing.”

“Thanks, Y/n,”

As your cousin left, Logan remained fixed on his spot as you walked back to your desk. Pointing towards the door your cousin had just walked out from, Logan turned around to you. 

“That was a pretty deep gash. That’ll take more than a couple of hours to heal.”

You looked at Logan for a split second before looking back to the papers in front of you. “It’s part of their mutation. Small things he can heal from, just not as quickly as you. We don’t all have super-healing, Logan.”

Logan gave you a soft smile, but it was still questioning. He walked over to your desk. “But their mutation gives them the ability to control water. Nowhere on their file does it say ‘heal’.”

Your heartbeat jumped. 

Logan leaned up a little from your desk as you looked at him. 

He’d caught you in a lie. 

“Well, it’s not his primary power. My aunt mustn’t have thought it was important.”

Your heartbeat was normal. 

So was your breathing. 

Logan decided to drop it, but it was constantly on his mind. 

Your heartbeat had jumped when he got closer to your desk and mentioned the mutation. 

Either that was the very first lie you had told him, or your mask was slipping. 

For the next two days, Logan practically watched you like a hawk. It was rare his gaze was somewhere else other than you. 

He did question going to the Professor again, but considering he was adamant you weren’t a mutant, Logan considered it wasn’t worth the time. 

He wanted to know why you had lied to him. Or why it was now he’d only just detected it.

However, it was at least another month before he would come to find out the truth. 

“So why are we being called up?”

Scott turned towards the Professor, his arm across his chest. “Because last I checked, aren’t the fire departments meant to help with this kinda thing?”

“Usually, yes. However, we’ve been called personally. There are too many risks for just the average human being.”

A tornado had ripped through a small town, demolishing almost everything. From the brick buildings to houses to even schools. Some people were still trapped under rubble and others were hurt, if not worse. Except, the hospitals could only take so many patients at a time and the nearest hospital was at least two towns away. 

“You’ll be working alongside the departments already stationed there but the main priority is helping people out safely.”

Twenty minutes later, they were headed for the jet. 

And you caught Logan walking down the hall. “Where are you going?”

“There’s been a tornado-”

“In Oklahoma? I saw it on the news.”

“We’re going to help.”

You turned watching Logan walk further down the hall. “Wait, I’m coming with you.”

“What? Why?”

You threw your books into the nearest classroom, letting them softly slide against the desks and into their places. “I can help.”

Logan stopped and looked around. “They’ve already got too many casualties. We’re going because we’re less likely to get hurt.”

You sighed with a look. “Logan, I’ve seen at least half of the casualties. They’re gonna need more than just the X-Men. I can help.”

“Let her go with you, Logan.” The Professor rolled around the corner. “She knows what she’s doing.”

Logan took the Professor’s word for it. “Come on, before they leave without us.”

Passing your room on the way, you grabbed your jacket and a bag from under your bed. Logan looked at you curiously as you shut your bedroom door. 

“Medical supplies.” 

Logan just nodded and placed his hand at the bottom of your back guiding you down the hallway before you both set off running towards the jet. 

Upon landing, everyone got to work. 

Scott and Logan started helping those who were trapped under fallen buildings whilst Storm helped lift most of the rubble away as well as brush away most of the debris from larger areas. 

Jean began setting up medical areas for people to be treated and seen to, and you helped her. 

Thirty minutes later, you heard shouting. 

It was a kid. 

“Help! Please!”

Turning around, you yelled for Logan and he came running. 

“Hey, it’s okay.”

“It’s my leg. I-I’m stuck. Please.”

“Okay, just stay calm. Logan help me lift it.”

Before Logan could even touch the wooden boards holding the kid down, the last half of the house shook. 

“Okay,” you looked from the house to Logan. “We have to move. Quickly.”

From the count of three, you and Logan lifted the boards from the kid, except, as Logan helped the kid out, the rest of the house began to fall. 

“Watch out!” A could firemen shouted. 

Logan barely had time to react, covering the kid with his body, waiting for the impact of the house. Except it never came. 

Slowly opening his eyes, Logan was met with a semi bright light of blue and when he turned around, he was more than shocked at what he saw. 

Coming from you was a safety barrier. The house had fallen but it had fallen onto whatever blue dome you had created. 

Despite the fact you had stopped the house from falling on yourself, Logan and the kid, there was a sting inside of you. How Logan was looking at you…pure shock and hurt…that stung you to your core. 

“Get the kid out of here.”

Logan slowly jolted back into action, pulling the kid out as you turned around and pushed the house back and up before lifting it to a safe distance away from the rest of the people. 

And Logan just watched you. 

“Thank you, sir.”

Logan looked around for the voice after a moment, realising the kid was still beside him. “No worries, kid. How’s the leg? Think you can stand on your own?”

The kid nodded before looking down and paleing. “It’s bleeding.”

“Whoa, hey, okay. Take it easy.”

Logan helped him sit down on a cinderblock just as you got to his side. “Let me see.”

The kid slowly lifted his leg. “I don’t like blood.”

You knelt down and examined his leg. “It’s okay, buddy. Just close your eyes so you don’t have to look.”

“What are you gonna do?” 

You looked at Logan who was all manners of concern, confused and intrigued. 

Looking from him without answering, you allowed your hands to slowly ghost over the kids legs. Before his eyes, a blue light emitted from your palm and slowly healed the cuts on the kid's leg.  

“Okay, you’re all sorted buddy.”

The kid opened his eyes and looked at his leg. The blood stains were still there, but the cuts weren’t.

“Thank you.”

“Do you know if there are any other kids around here?”

The kid pointed you in the direction of where a couple other houses had been standing only the day before and you and Logan went back to work. 

Over the next couple of hours, Logan’s gaze towards you had gone from shock to confusion to anger. 

You had lied to him. 

Not only that, you had lied to all of them. 

“Did you know?” Jean asked, standing beside Logan as he watched you with a little girl who had been crying. From nothing, you conjured up some daisies and whisked it into a flower crown for her hair. Logan’s heart was warm at the sight. The girl had gone from red and puffy eyed to smiling and hugging you. 

Then he remembered. 

“No. I didn’t.”

“Why wouldn’t she tell us? Why lie?”

“I don’t know.”

The girl almost skipped away from you and towards some of her friends she had spotted. You were still crouched down and as you turned, you spotted Logan and Jean. 

One moment of eye contact with you and Logan started walking away in the opposite direction. 

Jean watched as he walked away and you lowered your head, standing and looking around to see if anyone else needed help. 

A firewoman approached you and asked you for help moving some old pieces of the school building. 

When you returned an hour later, the only person you could find was Storm. 

“Those were some pretty cool things you did earlier. My only question is, why not tell people about it?”

You looked at Storm as you helped her hand out small baskets of food for people. “Easier to keep to myself.”

“You know, the first day the Professor told me about you, he said you were something else. I thought it was just because you were the only human in your family. But clearly he saw something else.”

“I’m sorry, for not telling you all.”

Storm shook her head. “You never had an obligation to. It’s your life, Y/n. You get to decide how much you share with the world.”

You sighed, spotting Logan helping a couple of people out by the broken swings in the park. “I wish others could see it like that.”

Storm nudged your shoulder. “He’ll come around. He’s like a walking lie detector. He’ll be more mad at himself for not figuring it out.”

You gave Storm a thanking smile before going back to handing out supplies. 

By nightfall, most things had been cleared up and the hospitals were less packed with patients thanks to yourself and Jean. 

On the ride back you could practically feel the anger radiating from Logan. He would barely look at you. Jean and Storm seemed to be the only ones not pissed at you for not telling them. 

By the time you landed, Logan was the first off the jet, his feet heavy against the stairs as he made his way back into the school. 

“Is there anything else we should know, or do you have more lies stuffed up your sleeves?”

“Scott.” Jean warned. 

“What? You can’t tell me you’re not pissed that she’s lied to us.”

“Scott, she didn��t have to tell us if she didn’t want to.” Storm told him. 

“Still would have been nice to know.”

As Scott walked away, Jean touched your arm. “I’ll deal with him. He’s just hurt, he wasn't the first to find out.”

“How come you two aren’t mad at me?”

Storm and Jean looked at you with a faint smile on their faces. “The power you displayed today…we know what it’s like to want to hide that.”

“And we also know what it’s like to want to keep a secret. You didn’t have to share that part of your story with us, but you did because you wanted to help someone. No one can be mad at you for that.”

“Thanks, guys.”

Jean and Storm smiled as they hugged you. “Anytime. But this does mean you are making us all flower crowns. I wonder if we can get Logan to wear one?”

The three of you walked side by side back into the school. “He needs a haircut, first.”

The next day, you found yourself in the Professor’s office, the rest of the team already there.

And Logan didn’t seem any calmer. 

Just eerily quiet as he watched you from the window, walking inside and standing in the middle of the room. 

“I understand there is something you may need to share with the class?” 

You nodded. “I guess you saw it on the news?”

The Professor nodded, but he didn’t seem mad. “That, and Scott was the first to come and see me this morning.”

You looked at Scott but he just scoffed. “They have a right to know we’ve got Class 4 mutant-”

“Class 5,” you corrected. 

They all turned and looked at you with shock. Logan just stood, his arms still across his chest. 

But the Professor smiled. 

“It seems we have quite a lot to discuss. Everyone, please excuse myself and Y/n.”

Slowly, albeit reluctantly, they all left one by one. 

Your eyes followed Logan but he didn’t look at you. 

With your eyes still on the door he’d just closed, the Professor rounded his desk. “He’ll come to his senses. They all will. Please, have a seat.”

Logan didn’t see or hear from you or the Professor in over three hours. And by the time dinner rolled around, the only person he did see was the Professor. 

“Where is she?”

“Gone.”

Logan nearly shot out of his seat as he looked from the library window to the Professor. “Gone? Where-”

“Relax, Logan. She’ll be back soon enough. I told her it was best if she went and got a little fresh air. You could use some, too. Your brooding is practically stinking this place out.”

Logan fell back into his chair. “She still lied.”

“And she had good reason, too.”

Logan looked back to the Professor. “She comes from an entire family of mutants, Logan. Her childhood was spent being surrounded by those trying to manipulate powers to be something greater than they already were. If she had shown who she truly was, I fear she wouldn’t have become the person she is today. Her family, for as much as they care for her…half of them would have wanted her to stay and have her powers trained into something for their own gain. The other half would have shipped her off to hide out in a country, alone for the rest of her life. They would have been frightened of her, Logan.”

“But why lie to us?”

The Professor sighed. “Logan, if you had spent your entire life being one thing, how long do you think it would take before you feel comfortable and safe enough to share a whole other side of you to someone?”

Logan was silent for a minute. “She said she’s a Class 5.”

Charles picked up the hidden question behind Logan’s statement. “I’ve read her mind, Logan. She’s not like Jean. She’s in full control. Always has been.”

The Professor waited for a couple of minutes. “I know you care for her, Logan. Try and find a way to forgive her for not telling you sooner.”

He made it to the door before looking back at Logan. “Maybe take a walk. It might clear your head. I hear Ororo planted some Evening Primrose. They should be opening up soon.”

With that, the Professor left. 

And somehow, ten minutes later, Logan found himself taking the Professor’s advice. 

Zipping up his hoodie, Logan placed his hands into his pockets as he walked down the steps towards the gardens. It was still a little warm but there was still that hint of chill in the air that let him know Fall would be closing in soon. 

As time passed, Logan felt his mind working around the idea of you and the things you had told him, or rather hadn’t told him. 

And the Professor was right. 

The primroses had begun to open. 

Logan had never really understood why people would watch flowers or do anything with them other than plant them and pull out the weeds a few months later. But as he was contemplating about flowers and why these off all things the Professor told him to look at, he looked up and spotted you. 

You were sitting on an old swinging bench, watching the water softly ripple under the moonlight. 

Logan watched you for a moment. You were calm. You weren’t writing or scribbling in a classroom, you weren’t buzzing around the kitchen or the hallways. 

You were sat, alone, letting your mind concentrate on nothing but the constant movement of the water and the stars in the sky. 

After a few moments, Logan noticed the soft blue glow by the ground around the water. Within a second, he watched as daisy’s and some other wildflowers started to push up from the ground. All the while, a blue wisp, almost like glitter, circled around them and then died away. 

Then stems of grass began to lift before they stretched into what Logan figured out to be lilypads as they glided down onto the water. 

“Figured you’d kicked down a few trees by now.” 

Logan turned and looked back at you. Of course you knew he was there. 

“Trust me, I thought about it.”

Slowly, Logan started walking towards you. 

More flowers grew by the water's edge. 

“You should open your own flower shop.”

You smiled a little. “Would you believe me if I told you I was allergic?”

“I don’t know. Is it the truth?”

You looked up at him. “You tell me.”

Logan could hear your heartbeat. 

And he could hear your breath. 

Both steady. 

“I’m not hiding anything else from you, Logan,” you assured him. 

Logan just raised his eyebrows and clicked his tongue as he moved to sit beside you. “Hard to tell these days.”

“I know you wanted to know but it was easier to keep it hidden.”

Logan nodded. “The Professor explained it to me. But everything you said in the library…”

“I was living a normal life, Logan. To my family I am human. To everyone else I was the only human in a mutant family. What I said to you that night…I meant it. I know what it’s like to be alone and to feel lost.”

“And now?”

You shrugged a little. “That depends.”

“On what?”

“On you.” Logan looked at you. You turned in your seat and looked back at the water, your fingers picking at your own hands. “And Scott. And the others. The Professor wants me to stay on, but I don’t know if I can-”

“You should stay.”

You looked back at Logan. 

“You should stay,” he repeated. “The kids…they love you. Besides, who else is gonna be able to read Rogue’s handwriting.”

“What about the others?”

Logan gave a slight nod. “They’ll come around. Scott will come around. Jean will see to that.”

“And what about you?”

Logan didn’t know what to say. 

“I care about you, Logan. I don’t know if I could carry on working here knowing you hate me for lying to you. Even worse…not being able to trust me. I am sorry for not telling you the truth, but I hope one day you can see why I did.”

“I think the Professor explained most of it.” Logan told you. “And I get why you didn’t tell us. It still hurts, but I get it.”

Your gaze fell on Logan’s face as he watched the forest come alive under the stars. 

“I care about you, too.” 

Finally, Logan’s gaze held onto yours. 

Part of you was held in suspense for when he would look away. Your heart braced itself for him to turn away. For him to say something your heart didn’t want to hear and for him to leave. 

As Logan looked at you, your heartbeat was like an echo of his own. Faint in the background, drowned out by his own rushing through his ears. 

“Promise me…” Logan tried to find his words as his own hand found yours on the bench. “Promise me you’ll keep talking to me. That you’ll tell me things. That you won’t have any more secrets with me? Good or bad…I want to know them.”

You nodded. “I promise. So long as you promise me something, too.”

Logan gave a slight smile. “Don’t think you’re in the right area to ask for promises jus-”

You sat up and turned your body towards him, your hands enveloping his hand. Logan remained silent the minute he saw your relaxed smile. 

“Promise me you’ll talk to me, too. And that you won’t try and hide your smile from me.”

Your hand grazed Logan’s cheek and he practically smiled into it. 

“I like seeing your smile.” 

Logan smiled. “I like seeing yours, too.”

With his elbow propped up against the back of the bench, his fingers slowly brushed your loose hair from your face to behind your ears and down your neck. Logan turned his head for a moment, his other hand coming to hold yours against him before he pressed a kiss to your palm. 

From there, he simply placed your hand over his heart. 

And you smiled. 

His heart calmed at your touch, and he could hear yours. 

With a soft smile that was very quickly turning into a smirk, Logan leaned forward, holding you steady before he finally kissed you. 

He wouldn’t notice until the next day but the wildflowers that bloomed by the waters edge, just as he kissed you, dug their roots permanently. Even when questioned why they could grow so close to the water without any other explanation than it being a fluke, Logan knew the truth. 

And it anyone was to question their origins and their symbolism: Eternal Love

It might finally provide an explanation. 

Pulling back to catch his breath, he heard you let out a small laugh. 

“What?”

“You seriously need a haircut.”

Logan groaned. “Still?”

“Just a little.”

A few weeks later, Logan found himself being pushed into a chair in his room as you wrapped a towel over his shoulders and pulled out a pair of hairdresser scissors and a comb. 

“You know, you could have just asked to cut my hair. You didn’t have to trick me into it.”

“Logan, I have been asking you for months. Be lucky I didn’t ask Hank to knock you out and drag you here.”

“Do you even know how to cut hair?”

You started the first couple of snips. “One of the first things I learned to do. Besides learning how to cook. People can only take so many bowl cuts and parsnip soup from Great-Aunt Vi.”

Logan smirked. “Sounds delicious.”

“Sure, if you love parsnip water with cabbage.”

You moved around to stand in front of Logan, his legs opening for you to step into them. It wasn’t long before his hands found your hips. 

Your heart jumped a little. 

“Stop it.”

Logan looked at you innocently enough. “I’m not doing anything.”

His hands glided a little higher before you whacked his knuckles with your comb. He tried his best to hold back his smirk. 

“Tease.”

It was your turn to hold back your reaction. “I’m trying to cut your hair. Distractions don’t help.”

“Don’t look distracted to me.”

You smirked a little, continuing to comb through and cut his hair. “Believe me, I’m plenty distracted.”

Logan chuckled and his hands moved back down to your hips before making repetitive strokes up and down your thighs and back to your hips. 

Time passed slowly, albeit calmly. 

“Okay, all done.”

You held a mirror in front of him. “What’d you think?”

Logan nodded before pushing the mirror down and pulling you closer to him before you found yourself sitting in his lap. “It’s nice, but I think I prefer this view.”

You blushed before kissing him, his hand raking through your hair, his breath pulling you closer. 

It wasn’t long before you were straddling his lap, his hands holding you steady by your ass and thighs. 

“Shouldn’t we,” Logan kissed you. “Be getting ready,” He kissed you again. “For dinner?”

“Good thing it starts at seven.”

You giggled a little as Logan smiled before his lips made their way down your jaw line and down your neck. Your own arms wrapped around his neck as you rocked forward on him a little, a groan coming from the back of his throat. 

“That’s in an hour.”

“Gives us plenty of time then.”

You smiled. “To do what?”

A small gasp came from you as Logan stood up with you, your legs wrapping around him. “To get ready.”

With a suggestive eyebrow raise and a small bite of his lip, you let out a small laugh before kissing him again, his chuckle vibrating against your lips as he walked you towards the en-suit bathroom. 

A small wisp of blue turned on the shower, letting the water heat up, all the while Logan set you down on the sink counter, the blue wisp locking the door, and him slowly removing your clothes before his lips left a trail in their wake, your own hands working to remove his clothes. 

By a stroke of luck, neither of you were late to dinner (this time) but there wasn’t much time left for drying your hair. Logan was still towel drying his before you both reached the dining room. 

“I see someone finally got a haircut.” 

Hank was dishing out mashed potatoes onto each plate. 

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh. honey.” Your hand pressed against Logan’s chest before you kissed his lips. “It was.”

“Didn’t hear you complaining afterwards.” Logan mumbled to you through a smirk.

You blushed brightly. Logan’s smirk prominent on his face,  his hand trained down your back and over your ass before coming to pull you in by your hips. 

Soon, everyone else piled into the dining room, you all finding your designated seats. With Logan’s beside yours, his hand remained on your upper thigh for most of the meal. 

However, no one seemed to notice that with each squeeze Logan gave you, a small row of daisies planted themselves outside, just below the windowsill. 

[yvvxs]

Trick or Treat!

‎‎ ‎‎ ‎↪ ft. argenti. arlan. aventurine. blade. boothill. caelus. dan heng & imbibitor lunae. dr ratio. gallagher. gepard. jing yuan. jiaoqiu. luka. luocha. moze. sampo. welt.

You and Argenti would definitely portray Beauty and the Beast. Going around in your costumes from door to door surprising the residents on the area with how beautiful your boyfriend is. Is he the Beast? Or is he the Beauty? Both. Both works.

Arlan would be going around in a silly onesie that the lead researcher had bought for him. Asta had made him go on break just to enjoy getting some sweet treats from any of the researchers, of course, he had to invite you as well. He denied receiving any of the candy, giving any and all of it to you. What was he doing with his pumpkin then? Well, holding Peppy, of course!

Going around with your vampire-dressed boyfriend, Aventurine would easily charm people. He made a bet with you on who'd be getting more candy. You both went together, so you were getting around the same amount of candy. But, somehow you seemed to have a lot more than he did.. Had he been giving you some of his own stash?

Blade didn't wear a costume, or at least, on his own accord. You had to force him, with the help of the other Stellaron Hunters, to give him an outfit to wear. A mummy costume was the only one that would have already fit him with the bandages that were already wrapped around him, just needed to add a few more, and he fit the look entirely! Though, he refuses any and all candy that he was being given.

Almost unrecognizable, Boothill would be wearing a mummy costume. Or what seemed to be the bits of it. Any of the bandages slipped around the metal of his body, falling off easily. Most of which just sat on his hat. Well, it didn't matter, he was having fun alongside you anyways.

Caelus would be wearing a racoon onesie that March had bought for him. She said it fit him, and so he wore it. It had a little pouch on the front, so he can hold any and all candy that he had stole– rightfully gotten.

Dan Heng would have to be convinced by you just to join in the Halloween festivities. He also wore a onesie that March had bought. Fittingly enough, it was a dragon one. Trick or Treating as Imbibitor Lunae was different, you'd decorate the space in between his horns with little spiderwebs. Insisting that it looked 'spooky'. He was sure you were just doing it for the sake of doing it. Oh well, he couldn't get angry at you.

Dr. Ratio had gone as a mad scientist, specifically, Victor Frankenstein, and you, as his monster. He wouldn't say he was fond of these activities, but he couldn't deny that doing them was somewhat enjoyable, especially when you were there with him. After all, even the doctor would have to take some breaks to have some fun. Though, he did make sure you lessened your sugar intake, he wouldn't want you getting a cavity tonight.

Going around as a werewolf, Gallagher enjoyed the trick-or-treating. Though, he most enjoyed giving candy to those who came to the Dreamjolt Hostelry. Seeing whatever costumes that people could come up with was quite fun. He'd sometimes give them a drink tailor-made for them for free as they continued on with their festive activities.

Having been convinced by Lady Bronya, Gepard had gone trick-or-treating alongside you. He was wearing a cheetah costume, bought by his sisters from some IPC members that were selling them. But he couldn't deny that seeing people enjoy themselves on this one day was quite rewarding. Especially knowing that these people were safe.

Jing Yuan was wearing a lion costume, matching with Yanqing, to the teenager's displeasure. The three of you going trick-or-treating was a sight for any on the Luofu watching. They'd give all of you some extra candy, which the General happily snacked on. What a cheeky bastard.

Sitting alongside you on the Yaoqing's streets, Jiaoqiu handed out candy to those who came. Though, he did join the trick-or-treating himself with your help, wearing a werewolf costume you and Feixiao bought. The two of you went along, describing the cute costumes that you saw for him. Despite his disability, he still enjoyed the activity, especially when you were there by his side.

Luka went around Belobog in his robot costume that Hook had made for him. He looked silly, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. It was the first time he was able to go trick-or-treating, and he was happy that he could do it with you.

Luocha was wearing a vampire costume that you had insisted he wear. It matched the coffin, and that solidified the look. He wasn't entirely fond of going around and getting sweets, but he'd gladly do it if you so wished.

Convinced by you, General Feixiao and Jiaoqiu, Moze finally decided to along with you in trick-or-treating. He wore a silly vampire costume that you and Feixiao had gotten. It matched him, you insisted. It'd just be for a day, he supposed, and it wasn't too bad at the least.

You and Sampo had worn matching costumes. A police officer and a burglar, you'd pretend to chase him, but he'd evade quickly as usual. Such a shame the people you two were visiting didn't know he was secretly stealing more candy than he should have gotten. Well, it was for you, so perhaps he could be let off the hook a tiny bit.

Welt wore a robot-themed onesie that March had bought for him, going around the planets and seeing the creativity in their costumes truly excited his inner child. He loved watching them, and you both knew that. He seemed like the person not to enjoy such an activity, but in reality, he did.

Masterlist || Do not repost nor feed to AI. Reblogs & Comments are much appreciated.

[felassan]

Thread: Sylvia Feketekuty on the influences of Emmrich and the Mourn Watch

The rest of this post is under a cut due to length and possible spoilers.

Sylvia Feketekuty: "I think I've gotten to most people’s questions, and I promised I'd talk about influences on Emmrich and the Mourn Watch before wrapping this up. So here we go! It took me while to figure out Emmrich's character voice. I'm happy with where I landed, but he was a tough one. A few books helped me out. MR James' Collected Ghost Stories (1890-1930) My favourite ghost stories of all time. James excels at building dread, at writing people finding strange things in books, or around the corner, or in the old lane at night."

"He was also an antiquarian and a scholar at Cambridge. I wanted Emmrich and the Watchers to feel formal, but not like they were from another epoch. James’ language, polished by a rich academic career, was an excellent benchmark for 'older, but not ancient'. E.g.: if using contractions was appropriate for James' time, it was appropriate for Emmrich. It freed me up, mentally speaking, to deploy them whenever they improved cadence or flow. Thomas Ligotti's Songs of a Dead Dreamer Fellow Ligotti fans may already be thinking Emmrich doesn't really share the philosophy underpinning Ligotti's work, and they’re right. However!"

"Songs of a Dead Dreamer is filled with fantastical imagery that’s a bit lusher than that found in Ligotti's later works. It was really good at bringing to mind the kind of moody, expansive dreamscapes I think our necromancer mentally occupies. It’s from a different book (Noctuary), but Ligotti’s “The Spectral Estate” also merits a mention. If you plunked it down in front of Emmrich to read, he’d know exactly what it was on about. The Romantic poets (or any poetry on similar themes: overpowering swells of emotion, the grandeur and awe of nature, love and loss and grief.) Palgrave's Golden Treasury was usually in reach."

"If I was in a jam, or psyching myself up for a scene, sometimes I’d read a few poems to get into the proper head space. Or just for the pleasure of it. Poems are great! Please take a link to Shelley's "A Dream of the Unknown", one of my favourites. [link] I also read a few books by morticians and funerary directors. A friend lent me Smoke Gets in your Eyes and From Here to Eternity by Caitlin Doughty (probably the most famous mortician on the internet?) I also checked out Nine Years Under: Coming of Age in an Inner-city Funeral Home by Sheri Booker."

"These books were full of lessons about how people react to death, how different cultures treat it, how anger and grieving express differently but come from the same wellspring. Very humane looks at how we deal with loss and other people. Moving on to non-books: My First Cadaver, a podcast of stories from medical students and medical professionals."

"I listened to a few episodes My First Cadaver, and there were some incredible tales in there. Gross (I could never be a doctor) but incredible. And I was struck by was how much students working on donated cadavers got attached to them. I can’t remember if it was in MFC or not, but there was one story about a medical student introducing his date to the cadaver he was working on like she was a beloved aunt. It was very sweet! Peter Cushing in Horror of Dracula (1958) and The Curse of Frankenstein (1957) These films are filled with handsome costumes, ominous sets, and the oversized passions I associate with gothic melodrama. Cushing's perfect in them."

"His portrayals of Van Helsing and Baron Frankenstein are brisk, determined, obsessive, and brimming with energy; they’re scholars who are experts in their field, yet still men of action. They felt like natural touchstones for a professor suddenly called to grand adventure. I also ended up reading Cushing's memoirs. In a bit of strange synchronicity, there were similarities between his life and traits I'd already decided to give Emmrich. Cushing came from a working-class family, had an intense phobia (his was of the dark), was vegetarian, and so on. I'd had no idea."

"(Humans tend to pattern-match, but it was a little eerie.) A side note: I've seen people speculate Emmrich was based off of Vincent Price. There’s a bit of the good Mr. Price in there, but Cushing got to play more heroic roles than he did. He felt more right to me. A second side note: did you know Vincent Price was a gourmand who loved to entertain? He and his wife Mary put out a beautiful cooking book, A Treasury of Great Recipes, filled with warm and charming commentary. If you're interested in that kind thing, highly recommended!"

"One influence when I was pitching the Memorial Gardens to the rest of the team was Swan Point cemetery in Rhode Island. It's where Lovecraft was buried, and like many a Weird Tales nerd before me, I was curious and wanted to see it."

"I wasn't prepared for was how lush the plants and flowers were, and how beautifully landscaped everything there is. Swan Point is a historical burial place, and also a carefully tended garden and arboretum. It stunned me. I'd never been in a cemetery like it. Emmrich complains about Hezenkoss making him play complicated wargames when they were students, and that one in particular had three separate rulebooks."

"I've seen people guess whether I was referencing D&D or Warhammer 40K. D&D was formative, and I know a frankly embarrassing amount about WH40K at this point (No regrets. Necrons and Admech 4-ever.*) But the origin is even sillier. *Why yes, Mechanicus 2 IS my most anticipated upcoming game. I used to own the first edition of a board game called Mansions of Madness, and was supposed to learn the rules so I could lead my friends through it. But come the day, I’d procrastinated, and was running short on time."

"Fantasy Flight's previous game in the same vein was Arkham Horror, and AH is not a simple game. But I remember being hopeful, as I peeled the shrinkwrap off, that maybe MoM would be easier to learn than AH. Have streamlined rules, or fewer things to remember. Then the top popped off, and three separate rulebooks fell out and slithered to the floor. (The DAV game’s not meant to be MoM, but the absurdity of that moment stuck with me.) (It's not the game's fault, by any means, that I was unprepared, and the session went as well as it could have with me flipping through the books going "Okay wait...hold on...I think that was here...no, wait.") The Nevarran hazelnut torte recipe is actually a family recipe from my grandmother, on my father's side. I’m beyond delighted people have actually made it. (Our recipe uses metric measurements, but the DA style guide uses imperial, so I was worried about the conversion. Looks like it went okay.)"

"On my mother's side of the family: my grandmother cooked and cleaned for a living, and my grandfather was a butcher. He passed away before I was born, and my grandmother when I was very young. So I gave Emmrich’s parents those professions as a little nod to the grandmother I only knew very little, and the grandfather I never met at all. I would’ve liked time with them both. And to end on a lighter note, "Ever thought of becoming a hat person?" is an extremely oblique reference to a line spoken to one of gaming's greatest characters: Murray, the demon skull from Curse of Monkey Island. (Curse is the first Monkey Island game I ever played, and therefore my favourite.)"

"Small bonus: here’s the music I listened to most while working on Emmrich and the Watchers. Some of it probably only makes sense to me, some of it seems thematically obvious. (I don’t have Spotify so best I can do is an itunes screenshot.)"

"Not on the screenshot because I changed PCs halfway through, but I also listened to a lot of music from Cryo Chamber, a great dark ambient label. [link] And their sister label, Cryo Crypt, which does "Dark Fantasy Dungeon Synth." [link] And also Allicorn IS on the screenshot but I think I've listened to his stuff on every game I've worked on by now. [link]"

[thread source link]

---

Bonus: follow-up comments and exchanges -

User: "I KNEW the torte was somebody’s family recipe!!" // Sylvia: "My only regret is that the icing was originally a stove-boiled icing made with eggs and chocolate and butter emulsified together. I couldn't get it working, however, these past few years. I think we lost some crucial part of the steps when trying to write out a clean copy. So I went with ganache for the game, because I didn't want to print something that didn't work, and I've used ganache myself. It's good! But I'm going to try to replicate the original again one day." [source, two] // User: "I noticed that sometimes, ingredients doesn't react the way they used to and part of that is probably due to some "industrial" changes in the recipe for ingredients like chocolate or butter to cut the cost of making them, imho. It's sad because it means we lost a very specific way to do things..." // Sylvia: "Yeah, that was the first thing a friend who bakes a lot suggested. I wonder if I was a victim of "Buttergate" when Canadian cows were being fed so much palm oil butter was harder to spread as a result. After a long search, I found a local place that makes butter that actually tastes good, which is an incredibly sad sentence to have to type out." [source, two]

Sylvia, re: Vincent Price being a gourmand and his cooking book: "It's extremely cool. My library had a copy and I remember it being pretty big, too." [source]

User: "I was following this thread and I'm delighted about all of these facts and information. Thank you for sharing!" // Sylvia: "Aw thank you! And thanks for reading, it was nice to unpack all the stuff kicking around my mental attic." [source]

User, re: MFC: "Sorry to post again but this one got me- my mom is a doc, and i remember her telling me stories of the cadaver she worked on (evidence of different surgeries she had, the cancer she had, etc), and mom always ended her stories saying how thankful she was to her. It really does stick around." // Sylvia: "No need to apologize, I liked hearing about your mom's reaction! It's exactly what I kept hearing and reading about, a sense of reverence for the gift." [source]

Sylvia: ""The irony that I had to convert the measurements back to metric" Haha. I tried to get as close as I could. Here's the written down metric version of the cake batter. It's an older recipe so I had to try to guess what a "knife tip" ended up as." [source]

A user on the torte being a family recipe: "Oh my gosh 🥹 that makes it all even lovelier!" // Sylvia: "Thanks! I was really excited to share the family recipe, it's a bit of work but it's one of my favorites." [source]

A user under the post about MR James' Collected Ghost Stories: "So you're probably the one behind the mysterious bronze whistle, I take it?" // Sylvia: "Haha, guilty. Cameron Harris, our editor, helped me figure out a phonetic guide to the latin. (If it fails anywhere it's very likely my fault.)" [source]

User: "As an avid Emmrich lover & someone trying to write some Emmrich POVs in my Emrook fanfictions, I can not thank you ENOUGH for this wealth of info / music inspo to go off of" // Sylvia: "Thank you! (Seriously though some of those songs probably only make sense to me, they're not all thematically on point, but some are. Hope you enjoy!)" [source]

User: "As another "needs a million hours of droning ambient music to write" writer I appreciate these greatly" // Sylvia: "We both have good taste! 🎶" [source]

User: "Thank you for writing out this list!! Peter Cushing makes so much sense as an influence. I love the variety of media here, it gives me so much new stuff to check out!" // Sylvia: "Thank you for reading! If you do check out some of this stuff, hope you enjoy!" [source]

Sylvia: "thanks so much, and for reading the thread! It was fun to write." [source]

User: "Thank you for sharing these books!I was looking for a good ghost book" // Sylvia: "Thanks! Hope you enjoy James. "Oh, Whistle, and I'll Come to You, My Lad" was the first story of his I read and I'll never forget that experience." [source] // Sylvia: "I just love the mood James could create, so much." [source]

User: "ELECTRIC SIX MENTION" // Sylvia: "My greatest favorites, now and forever." [source]

Sylvia: "Please archive away, I am intent on deleting the account eventually but it'd be nice to know people could look this stuff up later if they're curious. (Future generations need to know which Atrium Carceri tracks I listened to!)" [source]

User: "Amongst many things, not the least of which is the gratitude and delight of having your fantastic insight into the writing process of Emmrich, my grandmother’s hazelnut torte is fantastically close to the Nevarran version which was a delightful discovery." // Sylvia: "Ah now nice. I assume she was also central/eastern European then? I suspect it was a popular recipe at a certain time." [source]

User: "As an ex-mortician turned game writer, this was a FASCINATING read!" // Sylvia: "Haha, I definitely took inspiration from morticians! (Thank you for checking it out, that thread got long)" [source]

User: "ATRIUM CARCERI - Such a perfect band for the Mourn Watch!" // Sylvia: "I stumbled on Atrium Carceri when I was a student, and there's happily so much dark ambient available now, but Simon Heath's particular vibe can't be beat." [source]

User: "Rockefeller Street is just like that, man. It's sticky." // Sylvia: "Yes! It's so good, it just hits a certain mood dead center." [source]

Sylvia: "Ginkys of BlueSky has created a Spotify list of the music I listened to when writing Emmrich and the Watchers! Almost everything's on there. Thank you Ginkys. (FYI: Not everything I listened to matches the MW vibe, sometimes it was just a song that got stuck in my head for a few weeks.) - [link]" [source]

Sylvia, about the torte recipe: "If it's useful, here's the full thing in metric. WARNING: Last two times I tried this cooked icing, it failed. I'm not sure whether I miscopy a crucial step, or if changes to local butter were the culprit. Either way, proceed with caution. A ganache is way safer, and very similar." [source]

[thread source link]

[moog-rt]

Man or Monster

[Frankenstein’s Monster!Shigaraki x Reader]

♡ ♡ ♡

The moon is full, but the village below is none the wiser as black clouds blanket the sky, moonlight replaced by lightning, streaking and cracking endlessly through the night. Beyond the village is a steep, rocky hill, and atop that hill sits a lonely stone tower, teetering on the edge of collapse.

Metal rods protrude from the rooftop, creaking and groaning as they’re thrashed by the harsh winds, and they lead to a large complex machine within. At its center is a glass tank filled to the brim with pigmented fluid, which, occasionally, spills over the rim as gusts slip through gaps in the stone walls. It produces a subtle glow, illuminating the room just enough to see the Doctor’s expression–lips taught, creases between his brows, lower eyelids squinting slightly, framing his intense stare.

It mirrors your own but for very different reasons, you’re sure. The Doctor is leaning forward, propping himself up with a splintering wooden chair. His grip on it is tight, but his fingers continue to fidget. Then there’s you, slightly shrinking into yourself, holding your writing paper to your chest as if it's a shield. Your pounding heart is intensifying by the second.

This isn’t the first time this experiment has been conducted, and at this rate, you’re fairly certain it won’t be the last. Every attempt so far has failed. You’re used to that being the case by now, but it’s those few times…those few times where a ‘failure’ gets a little further than the others. That is the outcome you stress over most.

That outcome means you won’t be leaving the laboratory unscathed.

The silence between the two of you is filled with the howling and rumbling of the storm outside. Each bolt of lightning lights up the chamber, and your heads jerk up to stare intently at the murky tank. Each time, you’re plunged back into the dark with only the slightest bit of light emanating from the vat of chemicals.

There’s a flash and crack so loud you feel it in your bones. The floor is shaking beneath your feet and you barely catch the jagged streaks of electricity coursing through the metal rods and into the machine. It fully illuminates the tank to reveal the silhouette of a man suspended within, back arching as the lightning rushes through it.

The machine groans as metal grinds against metal and smoke puffs from the joints in the piping. The various parts appear to slump as they make one last creak before going quiet.

The tension in your body dissipates–another failed test.

Your back straightens, and you release a shaky breath as you look down at your papers. You’ll have to write up a report identical to a dozen others. You think you prefer it that way. Slouching, the Doctor slowly lets go of the chair and mutters curses as he turns around to go back to his work desk.

The silence returns, this time filled with both disappointment and relief.

The next few days will be filled with repairs. You walk forward to disengage some of the mechanical components, releasing some of the built up pressure within the pipes. The rusted knobs are cold and rough, and they squeak loud and unpleasantly as you turn them.

Maybe that’s why you don’t notice the massive glass tank judder behind you.

You’re walking back to the Doctor when you hear a deep pop followed by a crack from behind you. You spin around just in time to see the tub falling from its metal frame. The pipes that were previously attached to it are showering the room with chemicals, filling it with a pungent odor–sulfuric.

Alarmed, you shout for the Doctor as you rush forward in an attempt to stabilize the tank, an absurd decision on your part. The only way that ends is with you being crushed beneath it.

It crashes against the floor before you can even reach it. The liquid spills over the rim just before the glass shatters. You step on the pieces and slip. The ground is hard and cold when you collide with it. Your head is spinning, and you get to your hands and knees just to be knocked onto your back by the body–the failed Nomu.

You’re sprawled out, clothes and hair thoroughly saturated as the body lays across your lap and lower abdomen. As you prop yourself up a harsh chill racks through your body from the feeling of the naked hodge podge of corpses on top of you; it’s cold and stiff. You hesitantly reach out to push it away but pause before running your thumb across the deep stitched up incisions that wrap around its arm. You remember how it felt to weave a needle through the tough, dead skin, much more difficult than working with something still alive.

A low moan emits from the Nomu, your hand freezes, then it shifts in your lap, head rolling to the side to face you. Its eyes blink open to reveal blood-red irises, a slight haze of white film making them appear cloudy. You get the sense its looking through you until they flicker up to meet your gaze, and you go tense.

Then it winces and curls in on itself, releasing an even louder, strained groan. Your heart is battering against your ribs, but you gentle rub the creature’s arm in an attempt to soothe it. Its arm lifts to grasp onto your shirt.

You hear loud footsteps splashing over to you, and the Nomu is yanked off and away from you.

“It’s–I–I think it’s–”

“It’s alive…” the Doctor finishes your sentence for you, face alight with excitement.

You don’t get even a moment of reprieve as he ushers you into action, ordering you to take his place as the Nomu’s crutch. Eyebrows pinched, those red eyes never leave you, even as soaked powder-blue hair falls in front of them. You find your place against its side, arms wrapped around its waist to keep it from teetering. It’s shivering.

The Doctor is talking to himself, boasting about his success and how eager he is to report the good news. He examines the Nomu as you keep it from collapsing, and you startle when you feel its arm press against your back. You get the sense that it’s trying to mimic the way you’re holding it, and your eyebrows twitch.

You’re too focused on the creature to realize the exam is complete and the Doctor is taking his leave. You only snap back when he orders you to move his new creation somewhere it can be contained.

He also gives it a name. Tomura.

You do as you’re told, carefully shuffling the weak Nomu–Tomura–out of the lab and down the narrow staircase. The first few steps are challenging to coordinate, and your bodies bump against each other as you struggle to stay in sync. Gaps in the wall meant to let in light during the day now allow gusts of wind to blow through, whipping your hair against your face.

Gradually, you make your way down to one of the few unoccupied chambers that isn’t actively crumbling away. It’s cold and damp from the gaps in the stone wall that fail to separate indoor and outdoor conditions. There’s a constant whistle from the wind sweeping across the exterior of the tower.

You don’t recall a time when this room was in use, so it is no surprise that there are no lamps or candles to shed light across these dingy walls. The only things you in here with you are a wooden bedfram and a secretary desk, both rotting away.

You lead Tomura to the bed for him to sit, and as you bend over to make the transition a little easier, he becomes off balance. He stumbles and, because of the way you’re latched onto each other, so do you. The wood creaks, giving way slightly as you collapse onto it together in a heap.

Tomura releases a soft groan as you attempt to clamber off of him, careful of your hand placement as you do so. You adjust him so he’s sitting up, albeit a bit slumped, and watch him for a moment.

His skin is a mosaic of stitched-up incisions, each piece a slightly different shade, but everything about him contains a sickly undertone. His head hangs but his eyes are open and staring back at you. You feel small and vulnerable under his gaze, and your breathing is shaky as you shift closer to move him so he’s lying down instead.

You’ve done as you were told, so there’s no reason for you to linger–part of you is eager to leave and let this night be over with–but you decide to sit with him for a while longer, for observation purposes. At first, you feared he would be hostile, but from what you’ve seen thus far, he appears to be docile.

You brush his wet bangs out of his face to look closer at his eyes. At some point the white film faded, leaving his irises more vivid than you imagined. You’re disappointed and confused when he shuts them. You notice your hand is still entangled in his hair and quickly draw back. Tomura grunts, and his eyebrows slowly press together. It almost looks like he’s frowning.

The room is cold. You can’t imagine how Tomura must feel without any clothes, and you wonder just how much he’s capable of processing external stimuli. You should get him something to cover up and stay warm with, just in case he’s cold, too.

Opening his eyes, Tomura finds the strength to push himself up and groans out when you stand up and walk to the door. It’s hard not to notice the way the rise and fall of his chest quickens the further away you get. He starts shifting to the edge of the bed.

“No,” you say quickly, and he pauses. “I need to go.”

His eyebrows knit together, and he makes a disgruntled noise in response before sliding a leg off the bed frame.

“No,” you repeat and walk over to move him back. “I’ll be back.”

You wait for any sort of response from him, but he’s silent and still even as you leave the room. You hurry further down the tower, your footsteps echoing through the staircase, until you reach the room the Doctor has lent out to you as you help him with his research. It’s smaller than the one you found for Tomura, but you don’t mind much. You pull a basket holding a stack of extra linens out from underneath your bed and gather them into your arms.

You try to be swift as you ascend back up the tower to return to Tomura’s chamber, but the sound of clattering urges you to go even quicker. You come to a clumsy halt when you see Tomura stumbling past his doorway. His eyes are wide and his facial features have contorted into something harsh and unpleasant. A shiver crawls its way down your spine.

You’re hesitant to call out. “Tomura.” His eyes dart over to look down at you, and you frown. “You need to go back inside.” You’re not sure how much he truly understands, but you try to reason with him anyway.

His hunched shoulders heave as he sucks in a deep breath and takes an unsteady step in your direction. His legs buckle, and he crumbles against the stone wall but continues to inch in your direction. The hairs on the back of your neck rise, partly due to the cold that creeps its way through the halls of the tower and partly due to your nerves.

Tomura huffs as he reaches the first step leading down to you, and you urge yourself to do something other than just stand there. Your quick steps echo off the stone as you rush to him before he stumbles closer.

He pauses when you stop just in front of him, reaching out as far as you can without letting the linens drop to the damp floor. He copies you, hand hovering in the space between the two of you. You stare at it then look up at him. At some point, his expression softened, eyelids more relaxed and lips lifted from their earlier grimace, the closest thing to a smile you’ve seen from him.

You take his outstretched hand and move around him to give a gentle tug towards his room. He doesn’t put up a fight and lets you direct him back inside. You let him go to close the heavy wooden door behind you and place the stack of blankets on top of the desk, giving them a soft pat to flatten them out.

You don’t need to hear him to know Tomura is looming behind you, his presence thick and potent. Taking a sheet from the top of the stack, you face Tomura and hold it out, offering it to him. He looks down then back at you.

You raise your hands a little higher and say in a soft tone, “These are for you.”

He raises his arms up in a way that makes you think he’s mirroring you rather than understanding what you want from him. Still, you place the sheet in his hands and grab another for yourself, walking over to lay it across the bed frame for cushioning. Tomura follows you over and drops his sheet onto the bed in a crumpled ball on top of the one you neatly laid out.

You cover your mouth to stifle a surprised laugh and glance up at him with crescent eyes. He looks back at you, and the corners of his mouth twitch into an unnatural grin. His lips are dry and look as though they might crack if he smiles any wider.

You continue to make him a bed to the best of your ability, handing him a few more blankets as you go just for him to toss them like he did with the first one. You wonder if it’s to get a reaction out of you like before, but last you checked, the Nomu aren’t supposed to have that much cognitive freedom. The Doctor is creating them to take orders, and that’s it.

As the wind continues to whistle across the exterior of the tower, you can’t help but think it might be nice to have another person to talk to. It’s only you, the Doctor, and whoever the Doctor reports to here. Socializing is a foreign thing within these walls.

It’s lonely.

“Tomura,” you say as you lay out the final thick blanket across the rest, “Do you want to sit down and try it out?”

He looks at you, then the bed, then you again. You sit down to show him what you mean, and he follows suit, the bed creaking under his weight.

“How do you like it? Comfier now, isn’t it?” You smile at him, even though it’s likely you’re just talking to a wall. You can still see goosebumps across his forearms and decide you’ll wrap him up next. It’s a little awkward being around a naked man anyways, regardless of his condition.

“To—To—” his voice comes out as an unsteady rasp. His vocal chords were stripped from a corpse, so that doesn’t come as much of a surprise. What does, however, is that he can talk at all.

“Tomura,” you finish hesitantly, assuming that’s what he’s trying to say. You stay quiet for him to respond, but he doesn’t.

You breathe out a soft sigh and grab one of the wadded blankets he dropped earlier. As you rise to your knees to wrap it around him, you feel heat radiating from his body. As you adjust it, his skin gives, no longer stiff with rigor mortis.

Your brows furrow, and you don’t miss the way he does the same. You purse your lips before sitting back, earning a huff from Tomura. He frowns, bottom lip pouting, subtle enough for you to miss.

There are a few uncomfortable moments of silence where the two of you stare at each other and do nothing else. You’re each waiting for the other to act first, and eventually, you give.

“Tomura,” you repeat, glancing to the side. He takes in a sharp breath, and when you look back at him, his features have relaxed some. You release a shaky exhale and reach towards him to adjust the blanket so it covers his lap for modesty. Your hands linger as you elaborate, “That’s you.”

His chest swells beneath your fingertips. “You.”

You lean back again, and his eyes narrow. It’s unnerving, and you retract a hand but leave the other to press firmly against him—against his chest, where his beating heart hides behind skin, bone, and muscle.

“You—” Your fingers give a gentle tap. “—You are Tomura.”

He frowns again, and this time, you copy him, hand slowly pulling away.

“You,” he says again with a voice that puts the wind and thunder to shame. Your heart lurches when he throws a hand into your chest, knocking you backwards onto your palms.

You figure the moment of peace is over and begin scooting away. The Nomu before him, the ones who also had brief moments of life, were mellow at first, too.

Until they weren’t.

He leans forward to grab you by the shoulder and pull you back to him as if you weighed nothing. Your breathing is rapid and your heart pounds in your ears as you clutch to his arm with trembling hands. You’re trying to pry him away, but he doesn’t so much as budge. He glowers down at you through his tangled bangs, eyes wavering between yours.

“You.” There’s nuance behind his voice, a demand, maybe even curiosity. Your eyes widen and lips part. He does understand.

He does…

Your vice-like grip on him loosens as your body relaxes. You tell him your name, and his eyebrows rise.

Then, he says it back. His hand releases you and glides down to hold your arm so gently you almost can’t feel it. His breathing slows in sync with yours as his rough thumb brushes against your skin. He repeats your name once more under his breath, eyelids lowered and a ghost of a smile on his lips.

[fog-n-dance]

I JUST NOTICED SOMETHING !!

And mind you I might be late to the party but Did you see how Crosshair's left eye is a little bit uneven compared to the right ? Like a liiittle bit narrower, with his lower eyelid slightly higher ?

wELL THAT'S BECAUSE HE CLOSES IT WHEN HE SHOOTS OF COURSE, LIKE-

THEY DON'T HAVE THOSE FANCY OLYMPIC GLASSES IN THE GAR SO OF COURSE HE HAS BEEN CLOSING HIS LEFT EYE A WHOLE LOT SINCE HE WAS A TODDLER LEARNING HOW TO KILL THINGS AND PEOPLE, HOW NEAT :D

...

Well and if you want a nice and uplifting little addition to this, I also noticed that it is not as visible in season 3 :

But also that it is still somewhat present in season 2, in fact up until arrival on Tantiss :

And ya know !! While it might have been a simple animation inconsistency, my theory would be that, when for almost 6 months you've been physically and emotionally abused, and strapped to a table being tortured, and having your blood pumped out of you every single day, and being forced to fight your peers for a spot in Doctor Frankenstein's silly little troop... you might just don't get that much time to shoot after all, so your eye would probably get back to normal at some point haha, how neat 🥰🌸✨🔪⚰️

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. “ r/am I the asshole? ” : 

﹙ various monster characters x gn reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . various m. characters x gn reader !! 🍓 : ﹙ mercenary  ˖  immortal ˖ bad boy character ˖ mad doctor ˖ snake monster ˖ yandere character ˖ angel character ˖ grim reaper ˖ mortician character ﹚

your partner takes to the internet to question whether they or not they were a bit of an ass during their last encounter with you or alternatively : our characters' biggest red flags

﹙ cws ﹚: yandere behaviour ( on jingyi ) ˖ death mention | wc : 0.5k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: i had this idea and i just need to make this into a series because omg. do note that this is hǎitāo's new and improved character !

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

﹙alessio 781. ﹚. . . not understanding their tears when I die !? 🍒 : “ Yeah you read the title right. I ( 31M ) have what you call a regenerative. Trait. M a fucking enigma. ( Don't try track my IP you asshole ).

I admit I don't have the most charming job in the world but - someone's gotta do it. My powers make me come back from the dead. Frankenstein shit n all. ( I am not about to make a religious joke so fuck with Frankenstein. )

Anyway. It's common fact that I come back. My partner knows this. But every time I die - they cry. Of course like a good boyfriend I comfort them. But recently they been scolding me. Getting more emotional. And I just don't get it. I tried to explain to them that they've seen this waayyyy too many times to think I'm not gonna come back. I asked why do they have to be so dramatic you know?

Long story short, they're not talkin to me for a week now.

Yeah. Last week I took thirteen bullets to the gut. But I came back like I always did. I don't see the fucking issue. ”

꒰ mercenary ˖ immortal ˖ bad boy character ꒱

 

﹙jìngyí 209. ﹚. . . killing their coworker !? 🍓 : “ Please do hear my plight before jumping to conclusions at the title.

I, ( 46 M ), have always considered myself to be quite the possessive man. My beloved knows this well, as I have expressed it to them time and time again. I do not like sharing. Nor the thought of it. It makes my skin crawl.

Now, I understand that my darling is the height of beauty. I have garnered more patience for those that stare. My impulsions have eased for the past few months. However, I have noticed their coworker growing increasingly more. . . friendly.

He has been helping them with their work. Gives them compliments and shares stories as they both relate to interests. I have noticed him a few times when coming to pick up my partner. He always smiles and waves - as though expecting them to run back to him.

Last week was my dear’s birthday. And the bastard gifted them a box full of their favourite treats. So I simply did what any concerned boyfriend would do and. . . took care of it.

My partner is a bit distraught but is not aware that I did it, of course. I cannot help but grow more upset over the fact that they grieve him. Someone please relate to this. ”

꒰ mad doctor ˖ snake monster ˖ yandere character ꒱

 

﹙rishen 9948e. ﹚. . . not having time for them !? 🍒 : “ I would like to start this by saying that I am quite glad for this development in the nadir. It has certainly piqued a lot of interest along the divine realms.

Alas, I digress. I am a guardian angel who is on my way to the next rank. I am also a being granted trust from the divine themselves. Venturing from the abyss, to the abhorration, to across the multiverse. As such, you can decipher that I am quite the busy individual.

I adore my light, my sunshine and mi amanecer with all of my heart. It shatters the very being of my soul to see them weep for me after days of being apart. There are times I cannot attend important events to them. No matter how hard I try.

I am a very lonely angel, you see. I fear that they will leave me behind in search of a lover that will hold them in the night. I yearn to do so, but my duty is too great. My tasks are too plentiful.

Am I the one in the wrong? Should I punish myself for this? ”

꒰ angel character ꒱

 

﹙hǎitāo 9948e. ﹚. . . joking about their coffin !? 🍓 : “ Okay listen. I would like to clarify. I was joking about their coffin. Not their death. Yes those two go hand-in-hand like flowers to a gravestone but! I stand by my statement.

We were just talking about their favourite colour and jewellery. I'd asked for their upcoming graduation. Yknow, celebrate and all? Anyway, they gave me the answer and -

Oh yes. I would like to clarify. I am a mortician. And a grim reaper. Death is my whole shtick, you get me? It's literally in the name! Grim reaper. Not glee reaper.

I am going off topic. In any case. I made a joke - saying that their coffin will be quite easy to make. They gave me a face and I added on that it would be beautiful. A beautiful box for a beautiful corpse.

Apparently, this was not to their fancy. I was greeted with mild disgust and even more disturbia. They have not spoken since yesterday. I don't understand. I was just stating the obvious! ”

꒰ grim reaper ˖ mortician character ꒱

﹙ taglist. ﹚: | get tagged for specific posts

﹙ tip jar. ﹚: like our work? consider suporting us 𖹭 

[bttfjanaury]

janAUry 2025!!

my sincerest apologies for the lateness, but i have FINALLY made the list! explanations for the various aus will be listed below! the rules remain pretty much the same - please respect the aus creators!

medieval au by @bg-sparrow - Featuring Marty as Prince of the Hill and Doc as the Royal Alchemist

clara in the 80s au by @itsthemorph- That one fic I have where Clara makes it on the delorean and comes to the future with the gang and then kinda regrets it for a second

weredoc au by @kit-screams-into-the-future - after a mishap with a bit of einstein's DNA and the power of Science, doc finds himself with a bit of a problem, if "a bit" means "11-feet-tall and very hairy and also not exactly human". basically he just turned himself into a dog man. a big, wet, sad dog man. taking the term "dog person" to new heights, doc and marty now have to figure out how restore doc to his previous state of being without anyone else in hill valley suspecting a thing. which is easy at first (doc's always been a bit of a recluse, so it's not like this is any different) but, of course, when have things like this ever stayed easy for long when it comes to these two...

spy x family au by @izzy-draws05 - Based on the anime Spy X Family! (I recommend reading a plot summary to get more details!) Doc is a scientist working for a spy agency, who needs a fake family to complete a mission. He adopts Marty, who as a young kid, escaped a lab that gave him the power to read minds. Queue found family and slice of life shenanigans while Doc tries to complete his mission, and Marty tries to help without revealing his secret and what he knows.

ashen pines au by @rose-of-pollux - In 1971, the Cold War goes hot, and Hill Valley is incinerated in an attempt to get Doc, who has escaped; with him is a 3-year-old Marty McFly, the only survivor of his family, and now his adopted son.

trinity trilogy au by @daryfromthefuture - marty ends up stuck in the 1940s permanently due to a delorean malfunction. shenanigans ensue when he ends up in los alamos with his adopted father, the 29-year-old doc, when the latter is recruited for the manhattan project.

everything everywhere all at once au by @stillpreoccupiedwith1985 - Basically Marty is aware and can access all universes. Here is a link, https://www.tumblr.com/stillpreoccupiedwith1985/745704523820089344/as-promised-my-everything-everywhere-all-at-once

zombie au (! multiple versions by multiple creators! ask either @jayisnotdrawing or @mundancheemudomo for more context, i am too lazy to copy all of it in here at the moment lmao)

stuck in the 60s au by @bri-to-the-future - marty ends up in 1967 based on the first draft of bttf 2. remember the lsd

spiderman au by @styxbugg - marty is spiderman (see the doc for last year's challenge for context! in fact, i can say that for a lot of these)

frankenstein au by @jayisnotdrawing - marty dies in the train experiment in 1885, and doc revives him with science. angst ensues.

mermarty au by @itsthemorph - see last year's document!

stuck in 1885 au (this one specifically refers to @daryfromthefuture's "until i get home". i think) - see last year's document!

time circuits series by @bg-sparrow - see last year's document!

the shadow's gambit/spies au by @aceofthyme - Summary: Spies? Spies! Doc is a technical agent working for a spy organization, and Marty is his apprentice/a junior field agent. Longer Explanation: Doctor Emmett L. Brown is a member of a top secret organization dedicated to ensuring world peace. As an agent in the technical and scientific department, he spends most of his days buried in research or working on various inventions. He enjoys his work, and it pays well, but there’s one problem: every senior agent is expected to take on an apprentice, and Doc hasn’t yet. Were he not so indispensable to the agency, he suspects he would have been ‘released from service’ long ago. Regardless, he can’t risk losing his position—he needs the funding, after all, and he doesn’t have much else lined up. When a teen is brought in as a suspect relevant to a new case, Doc is able to clear the boy’s name thanks to the power of science. He finds himself taking a liking to the kid, though, seeing something there that reminds him of himself. Before he can think about it, he offers the boy the apprenticeship—and Marty McFly immediately says yes.

around the world in 80 days au by @daryfromthefuture - marty and doc take over the roles of passepartout and phileas fogg based on jules verne's novel. marty, orphaned, is employed as a servant at emmett brown's house, who, as a result of a bet, is going to travel around the world in 80s days. read "the perils and the promise" on ao3 if you want it as a whole, but there's also clara and hurt/comfort because doc is marty's first employer to actively care about him and all the stuff

jennifer in 1955 au by @carrotsofthepirabbean - With Marty out of the picture due to an incident in Hell Valley, Jennifer goes back to 1955 to retrieve the almanac and repair the timeline

marty & the pinheads au by @stillpreoccupiedwith1985 - Think of the 2001 movie Josie and the Pussycats, but with Marty and his band. Based on the fact in the movies they are just The Pinheads, but in the musical it is now Marty McFly and the Pinheads. In Josie and the Pussycats, they were just the Pussycats first. So tons of music industry corruption and Marty getting temporarily brainwashed into being a snobby rockstar.

nutcracker au by @stillpreoccupiedwith1985 - Says on the tin, the nutcracker. Doc is Drosselmeyer, Marty is his nephew/The Nutcracker, and Jennifer is Clara (from the ballet/story not Clara Clayton)

royalty au by @professorsaber - see last year's document!

it's like utopia! au by @jayisnotdrawing - instead of doc, marty disappears upon arriving in citizen valley. cue doc dealing with nerd marty while trying to repair the timeline.

fenrir au by @madscientists1mp - After an invention mishap, a terrible white wolf starts to terrorize Hill Valley... and it looks all too similar to Doc. Can Marty help his friend cure his bloodthirsty dark side? Will Clara find out about her husband's bone-breaking transformations? Will the Men in Black claim him for dissection? Tune in to find out!

vincent au by @whosmurphy - see last year's document!

once upon a time series by @bg-sparrow- see last year's document!

miitopia au by @daryfromthefuture - marty is cast as the hero in the video game miitopia, and the other bttf cast joins him over the course of the adventure. au post is here!

alien doc au by @alex-a-fans - see last year's document!

local legend au by @styxbugg - see last year's document!

steampunk au by @stillpreoccupiedwith1985 - Yet another stuck in 1885, but this time Jennifer is with them in 1885. After Doc married Clara, Marty and Jennifer tie the knot and move to Kansas City. While they are there they discover an underground advancement of technology, using steam. They go to learn more as a way to see if they can use this to help get back to 1985, while also navigating their life in 1885.

jennifer in 1885 au by @kit-screams-into-the-future - what it says on the tin! jennifer has stayed concious through their time travels and now has to work with marty to save doc's life in 1885. so basically part 3 but if jennifer was there. she gets to be a cowboy yeehaw

soulmate au by @daryfromthefuture - see last year's document

for the alternate ones ALSO see last year's document! i will link it once again:

thank you all for your wonderful submissions! i can't wait to see what you create :D

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Fine Addition

ModernAU! Dr. Frankenstein!Steven Grant x fem!reader

A/n: Please don't ask me what I thought about turning sweet Steven into Dr. Frankenstein.

Cw/triggers: Smut, slight bondage at first because reader is strapped on a table, p in v, fingering, nsfw, Steven's a bit horny, soft dom Steven energy, Stockholm syndrome(?).

You didn't even knew how you've got here, strapped on a cold autopsy table in nothing but your underwear. To your right were tools straight out of your nightmares.

Screaming wasn't an option either with you mouth being taped shut. Your eyes had to adjust to the darkness of the place, the only light coming from the monitors and buttons.

Just a moment later, the heavy door creaked open, the light shining just past you as the person stepped in and turned the lights on. The bright light caused you to squint your eyes in order to adjust.

You looked to the side, seeing a guy in a what looked like a doctors coat, messy curls, and glasses on his nose. In his hands he had a thermos and a book. He didn't seem to notice you being awake, he just walked past you, moving to sit down at a desk to mind his own business. You could see him just reading the book, taking occasional sips from his thermos.

You began to struggle against the restraints to get his attention.

It worked, he turned to look at you. "Oh y're awake." he said nonchalantly, getting up to walk over to you. "Y'see, after my last creation- err, or let's say 'monster' like those twits call it has been killed... I of course needed a new one."

You noticed a name tag on his coat. Steven.

"And this is," he reached into his pocket, pulling out a marker "where I thought you'd come into play." with a firm but still soft grip he held your wrist in place and drew a line down your arm to your wrist with the marker.

Steven swiftly removed the tape from your lips before moving on to hold your leg in place, marking it up aswell. "It's a bloody shame it has to be you though," he sighed softly, his eyes wandered over your body appreciatively "you're a true gem."

He took off his glasses, setting them down on a nearby table.

You began struggling against the restraints holding you down. "Ah ah, stop struggling, love." Steven tutted, giving you a small smile at seeing you trying. "S'not gonna get you out of here, y'know." Steven shrugged, pressing a button on a console.

Steven turned back to you, leaning against the table, his eyes raked over your body once more. "You stay put for a while, yeah? I'll be back." he smiled softly before leaving the place. Steven took a breath, leaning against a wall.

"She's too beautiful." he sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Steven chewed on his lip, debating whether he should just let you go and risking the possibility of getting caught or not.

"I let her go. Yeah, I let her go." he nodded to himself, making his way to the door. The heavy door creaked again as he opened it, his eyes landing on you once more.

"Lucky you. I will let you go." he sauntered over to you.

"You let me go?" you asked skeptically, not sure if you believe him or not.

He nodded, moving to stand beside your leg. "Yeah." placing his hand on your ankle, ready to remove the restraint. Steven couldn't help but let his gaze rake over your body once more, taking in your beauty.

Steven's hand slowly drove its way upwards your leg, aiming for your core. "But promise me you'll behave, yeah?" he demanded softly.

"Yes." Your voice trembled, but the way his warm hand travelled up your thigh made your pussy leak onto the table, his hand settled on your core rubbing your clit in slow circles.

"Y' love that, yeah?" He teased, supporting himself with his hand at the edge of the table near your shoulder to lean down. "You have such a lovely body."

Steven slid two fingers inside, feeling your pussy gripping them. "You're already so wet f' me." he thrust his fingers in and out of you, feeling them get soaked up in your wetness. The occasional moans and whimpers coming out of you were like music to his ears, his fingers curled inside of you, hitting your spot making you flutter around his fingers.

"Your tight cunt's 'bout to get it." Steven said, he withdraw his fingers, his hand went down to undo his pants, rubbing his hardening cock through the material. He released the restraints, making you sit on the table. Steven spread your thighs wide, stepping between them and pulling his pants down, revealing his thick length.

He rubbed the tip along your soaked folds, slickening himself up before he pushed inside, your walls met him with a tight grip, your mewls getting needier as he began to move. "Fuck," he groaned "gotta search for a new way to create a monster," each word was acompanied by a hard thrust. "but it's worth it if I get to keep this wonderful cunt..."

Your pussy fluttered around him once more, you couldn't think of anything other than getting fucked on an autopsy table by this crazy but handsome madman.

Steven slowed his pace, rolling his hips just right to hit the spot deep inside, it make your pussy squeeze him, causing him to gasp. "P-please don' do that it's -fuck- killin' me." Steven whimpers almost needily.

The sweet whimper escaping him made your mind go dumb on his cock, how it stuffed you, how it stretched your cunt so deliciously.

"Faster please!" you whined, wanting nothing more than to chase down your sweet release. Steven quickly complied your plea, his breath quickening as he slammed into you all over again.

His thrusts became erratic, sloppy even as he had lost himself in the pleasure of ruining your cunt from the inside out.

"'m 'bout to cum, get ready dove." he warned, letting out a groan a few seconds later as he shot his load into you. Your orgasm was close too and when you felt his hot, sticky cum spurt into you, it pushed you over the edge, your pussy gushed all over his cock.

When he pulled out, a mix of his cum and your juices trickled down your thigh and most of it got on the table beneath you.

"You were so good f' me. So good." Steven praised, he tucked his softened cock back and pulled his pants back up.

You catched your breath, calming down from the intense peak you had. "Am I free to go?"

Steven looked back at you. "Yes. But maybe you'd like to be my assistant?" he cupped your cheeks in his hands. "Think about it love. We. Side by side..."

To be honest, his confession caught you by surprise, but on the other hand it was tempting... being the partner in crime with a crazy but handsome doctor.

"I'll be your assistant, Steven." you accepted.

Steven smiled, pleased with your desicion. He helped you off the table and showed you the room you'll be staying in.

Steven is looking forward on having you as his trusty partner in crime.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

no no thats exactly my point! i dont believe time lords have men and women at all. i think Time Lord is a poor translation as everything about gallifrey said in english is. i think Time Lady is a thing missy made up for fun. thats not even a translation of a gallifreyan word. she took the poor translation of 'time lord' and went 'well lords have ladies' in english

like obviously missy is intensely performative. her performance of womanhood is really fun and obviously only show. shes doing drag. naively. shes not like, making commentary on what gender is bc she doesnt know what shes doing. though i do think shes making some commentaries but i think they mostly amount to making fun of humans. and having fun with humans. she clearly has no idea what "woman" means to a human but she has Observed The Rituals and she thinks theyre fun to play with. she plays the woman the same way the master before her plays the man/prime minister. i think the master after her (assuming simm->missy->dhawan) is like layering more, but not doing any less drag

the doctor i dont think is doing gender drag necessarily, but doesnt know what the difference between men and women is either. you know how strax is like,,comically ignorant of who are women and who are men and keeps calling clara a boy bc hes a clone species made in....looms? basically? i dont think the doctor and the master understand a whole lot more i think theyve just had a couple more years to observe the rituals and play along

but hence why i was playing with this scenario in my head:

rose: youre assuming he as a pronoun? 14: well you assumed for me! the entire living room: dead silence

thats what humans do they use words based on some fucking characteristics that the doctor has given up trying to distinguish bc theyre basically faceblind bc theyre a telepathic species. humans are always defaulting to he

this is why manually-transing-her-gender-14 vs woke-up-like-this-by-accident-missy is such a fun thought to me. they both think 'okay im starting to see what the humans mean with this gender thing! ive seen the light! ive been a woman i get everything now' but they dont. their conclusions about gender would be so unhinged. every human woman in the room would be like what the FUCK are you two talking about and both of them are like no listen!!! i get it!!! let me explain!!! and the explanation is like "imagine cupasoup" and the other is like "no!!!! its not like cupasoup dont listen to her! it's like this- no listen listen hear me out. think about how humans domesticated bananas" and rose, yaz, donna, and sylvia in unison go W H A T

and to your tags like, thats the thing, i dont think all the human women in the room could either. they dont know what being a woman is either they just know they are, and they know it's definitely not whatever the aliens are talking about (and they might be wrong about that)

river, crawling through a sewer: HEY MISSY,,,, so why did u trans ur gender?? missy, in the same situation: oh my god you cant just ask people why theyre women!!! also it was kind of an accident

[honeycreammilkshake]

Yuji can finally have his own Human Earthworm with blobkuna haha

it seems to me that gege is really fond of metaphors and stories within stories, so i took a closer look at the human earthworm series that was given to us in the anime/manga and i found a lot of interesting things that, as usual, i'm going to turn into a sukuita essay. (sorry for the overly long rant coming up, anon ;-;)

the basic plot of the 4th movie is that an ordinary man is transformed into a half-worm, half-human creature by an evil scientist/doctor. the human earthworm manages to escape but is forced to hide from the outside world as he will be perceived as a monster because of his appearance. however, his hiding place also enables him to meet an animal rights activist who ends up falling in love with him. she is a very understanding, compassionate, and empathetic person (remind you of someone?) and although she is scared of him at first, she looks past his "monstrous appearance" to find the true person within, and he is ultimately more human than other humans are.

in the end, though, he is killed by the girl's friends, who only see a monster. before they attack him, though, she tells them that they will be the monsters for killing him.

this theme of the humans being more monstrous than the actual monsters themselves, such as in literature like frankenstein by mary shelley or the metamorphosis by franz kafka, is a theme used to invert and reframe the popular myths and stories of monsters both looking abnormal and being unnatural.

so... what does this mean in relation to sukuna and yuuji's story?

i think it's pretty clear that sukuna was perceived as monstrous from his birth onward. in historical japan, during the heian era, there was a lot of conflict between different religions and very rapid changes in culture and lifestyles as people began breaking away from chinese influences. this era is sometimes called the "golden age of the imperial court" because of the court's growing power and cultural prosperity, and a lot of this power resided with the Fujiwara clan who had intermarried with the imperials. however, for the majority of ordinary people, this era saw a lot of suffering, hardships, low quality of life, and a high infant mortality rate.

sukuna was born into this starving world and would have died had he not eaten his twin in the womb. but he was unwanted and unwelcome from the moment he was born. i've written this before (so i'm sorry if it's getting a bit repetitive) but i think a lot of fans don't realize how much more demanding and cruel life was during this time (compared to modern day japan) in terms of life expectancy and quality. and those factors shaped sukuna into what he is, or at least make up a part of his becoming a monster.

in sukuna's own words his existence itself is anathema. the literal definition of this is "vehement disliking" and is a synonym of abhorrent. in religious usage it means "exclusion from the society of the faithful because of heresy" and it is described as being "cursed."

sukuna was perceived as being a curse before he even became cursed objects. whether or not he was born with extra limbs and/or lots of cursed energy, he was still seen as something unnatural and inhuman.

in other words, his unusual appearance and origin is monstrous to others. and i think he took this to heart and decided to just go with it, because he refuses to be seen as human by anyone even though he was in fact born one. he would rather be feared and despised as an imaginary demon than treated like a real person who was essentially cast out of the normal world.

but yuuji doesn't treat sukuna like just another monster in the end. instead, he offers him such selfless acceptance and honest empathy. and i don't think sukuna can take something like that.

sukuna is very aware of his own nature. he seems really proud to be an unfeeling, indifferent entity of chaos.

hm.....

lots of thoughts on this one panel alone. but i'll try to keep my ideas short. i believe that sukuna embraced what others saw as his "cursed nature" and became the strongest so he could be above all the hatred and ignorance that made others perceive him as being a monster. so he matched his actions to what people feared from him.

he became the monster so he could look down on those same people and also so he could isolate himself from ever being affected by those feelings again. after all, those others are nothing more than weak prey who shouldn't lament their own suffering, just like he shouldn't lament being seen as cursed from birth on. just like he claims he isn't lonely because only the most selfish can be on top.

but still. people want to destroy him for just being the role they more than likely forced him into. he never became more than what people saw him as, and yet they still hate him.

he claims to be above that hatred, but i think it might actually get to him. while else would he reflect so much on it during his fight with yuuji. yuuji, who he lived inside of, who he looks down on for being "weak" because he is far too emotional and caring for others, yet that's one of the biggest reasons for yuuji's strength. strength sukuna tries to undervalue because he can't stand the idea that strength can ever be compassionate as well.

yuuji hates sukuna's ideals and his indifference to the value of life. but he still accepts sukuna. he sees past the monstrous appearance and realizes sukuna was made into a monster by chance. what if someone was there for him, like wasuke was there for yuuji? even though wasuke still pushed yuuji away and was all that yuuji had, he still kept yuuji tethered to being a good person and caring for others. wasuke served as both a lesson in what not to become and a reminder for yuuji to realize the importance of life.

sukuna probably didn't have that, or if he was given that chance, it was far too late for him.

yuuji actually wanted to live with sukuna. he wanted to the animal rights activist to sukuna's worm monster, but in the end, sukuna chose death.

the humans killed the monster they made, yet again. sukuna would rather live and die as a curse than be anything different. yuuji loved him even as a worm, but sukuna couldn't take it.

and yuuji looks so heart-broken and disappointed for it.

also. i didn't notice this until now. but yuuji cradles sukuna's remains so so gently... in the hand that looks monstrous.

monster to monster. yet yuuji was so tender. he didn't seek to mock sukuna. instead, he said that they were the same. that sukuna is him.

yuuji was created for the purpose of housing sukuna inside of him, for being his vessel. he was made into a "monster" but instead of letting that turn him into something evil, he used his abilities to save other people. and he even wanted sukuna to come back to him!!!

again, i'm sorry for making this into yet another paper-long incoherent rant. i probably should have stuck to my original reply which was "sad we couldn't see their halfling children ;-;" but then this happened instead. thank you for bearing with me if you read through the mess of my thoughts. ty for your wonderful ask anon <3

[thepunkmuppet]

costumes / looks I desperately need gerard way to wear on stage (add your own in reblogs!!)

greek statue, he’s fully painted white including his hair with a white toga with a golden wreath thing on his head. I just think that would look sick

police uniform covered in blood

straight up zombie with full on green decaying gory make up

one of the heathers from heathers

either the blue cheerleader outfit from the i’m not okay mv or the iconic red ones from teenagers. then we’d have a little trio!

ghostface. possibly cunty ghostface as a treat

vanya from umbrella academy - young version with the school girl fit and black mask OR the all white comic version of course

also number five from umbrella academy (classic school boy fit)

this sounds weird but I think this would be really cool and meta for wwwy - a stereotypical mcr fan / emo. as in with that one black parade t shirt, heavy eyeliner, black nails, side swept emo fringe, studded bracelets and belts, skinny black jeans, vans or converse. again a very meta concept, after their old person looks in 2022 I can really see them doing this as a whole band this year and I would loooove to finally see gerard in the fashion style that’s so associated with him and his music

howl from howl’s moving castle

possibly also sophie from howl’s moving castle

slenderman

literally just satan. like the most stereotypical devil, give them fully painted red skin, horns, fangs, yellow or black eyes, maybe even goat legs. probably with a majestic black suit or something, or for a succubus vibe a black flowy dress with a slit down the leg. now that I think about it, this would be a SICK wwwy look to shock us all, esp if ray mikey and frank all dressed as other demons or the souls of the damned or some shit.

peni parker - he made her!!

question mark jumper from doctor who

also missy from doctor who omg

jane doe from ride the cyclone, possibly with added marionette or cracked porcelain makeup like in some renditions

classic majestic white-robed angel, with enormous fake wings and maybe even sparkly gold makeup and a big gold halo. also would be cool in all black, or all white but covered in blood (red, gold, or black, all would look cool)

buffy summers in prophecy girl, except he also has blood all over his neck from where the master bit her. I hope he’s watched btvs I think he would very much enjoy it this look would fit with their vampire vibe sooooo well

classic frankenstein’s monster

mothman. not only is he a heartthrob but he’s also a hunched goblin cryptid to me. the duality of man (he/theys)

jane prentiss from the magnus archives. if you don’t know she is a living flesh hive of sentient worms, she’s decaying and full of holes. again with all the nasty decaying rotting prosthetic makeup plus THE RED DRESS!!!

mr darcy vibes, sopping wet regency man with a big puffy white t shirt

opposite side of that, fuck it give him a full on ballroom gown

henry creel from stranger things (pre-vecna, nurse outfit)

any disney princess

crowley from good omens. my man looks GOOD in those anthony janthony aah sunglasses he has

cute flowy summer dress with like a flowery pattern. either go cottagecore with it and have flowers in his hair, or go full white soccer mum and put him in huge cunty sunglasses a massive straw sun hat with a ribbon on it

all-black cowboy!!!! the fact I’ve never seen him in a cowboy hat is actual sacrilege. also would very much appreciate an all-pink sequin studded cowboy

any alice in wonderland character, especially alice herself, the classic disney movie look with the blue dress and the bow in the hair. he would also do a great chesire cat (spooky big grin makeup paired with his weird ass dramatic facial expressions?? inspired) or a super extravagant queen / king / knave of hearts. also 100000% the mad hatter omfg, he was BORN to do a jefferson from once upon a time look!!

[scoobydoodean]

CASTIEL I'm sorry, Dean, but I warned you not to put that thing back inside him. DEAN What was I supposed to do? Let T-1000 walk around, hope he doesn't open fire? CASTIEL Let me tell you what his soul felt like when I touched it. Like it had been skinned alive, Dean. If you wanted to kill your brother, you should have done it outright.

Another scene people use to villainize Dean for putting Sam's soul back in his body—a kind of meta I have already criticized several times. The context of this scene gets really lost in the weeds when it gets giffed. Most obviously when you actually watch the scene, it's part of a larger conversation about whether or not Sam (who's been unconscious for 10 days) is even going to wake up. Immediately prior to this bit of dialogue that always gets giffed:

DEAN Is he ever gonna wake up? CASTIEL I'm not a human doctor, Dean. DEAN Could you take a guess? CASTIEL Okay. Probably not. DEAN Oh, well, don't sugarcoat it.

Dean asking Cas questions ("Will he wake up?") that Cas doesn't have the answers to is also a thing Cas hates. He likes to avoid questions he doesn't have the answers to by flying off when he can (ex: 5.01, 6.03) or not showing up in the first place (ex: 6.03, 6.06). And all those moments this season have been in regards to questions about Sam's soul... because it's a sore subject in a way we can only realize retroactively after finishing 6.20 "The Man Who Would Be King" where we find out Cas is the reason Sam came back wrong to begin with.

In this scene, Cas thinks Sam isn't going to wake up, and he just felt his soul and saw what a terrible state it's in, and secretly, he sees this as his fault. If Cas hadn't fucked up, Sam's soul, just like his body, would have been back to the earthly realm within a week of Sam going to hell. Because he fucked up and missed something that probably feels painfully obvious in hindsight, Sam's soul spent a year in hell being "skinned alive" as Cas describes, while his body walked around fucking everyone around him over—including Dean who this was supposed to be for. It's his fault that Sam came back soulless. It's his fault that while soulless, Sam hurt people and used Dean and nearly killed Bobby. It's his fault that Dean got so desperate he put Sam's soul back in. It's his fault that Sam's soul is damaged like this because he's the one who accidentally left it behind (and making what in hindsight must feel like such an obvious mistake must be infuriating).

Cas was able to avoid the soulless Sam problem as long as Cas wasn't around. From afar, he could just say "good enough" to have Sam's body around even though he knew Sam was off and was secretly bothered by his behavior (6.06, 6.10). By putting Sam's soul back in his body, Dean unwittingly made the reminder of Cas's mistake unavoidable.

Cas wanted to bring Sam back to make Dean happy, but he fucked it up, and Dean faced the fallout and (tried to) clean up the mess, which probably stings. In the process, Dean was in danger and (by bargaining with Death) put himself in further danger—the number one thing Cas has been trying to avoid since watching Dean rake leaves— which probably stings. Dean asked Cas to touch Sam's soul and then Cas had to directly feel what his careless mistake meant Sam suffered through which definitely stings. And there isn't even a consolation prize here of "well at least I got his body out" anymore because (unwittingly) Dean is telling him “well your fuck up consolation prize wasn’t good enough”. Cas wants to convince himself soulless Sam could have been enough and HE isn’t the one that created Frankenstein’s Monster—Dean did—but Cas knows that isn’t true deep down. In his head, he ultimately created this situation and this incongruous Sam and all the fallout is on him. Sam wakes up and prays to him and Cas immediately shows up with no ulterior motives like an ancient weapons (such as in 6.03 or 6.06 or 6.10). He shows up purely because Sam is awake and alive and his soul is in his body and he's OKAY despite all the damage resulting from Cas's major fuck up and it's such a relief Cas forgets all the awkward interactions they had in season 5 and tries to hug him.

[marisol-000]

Clipped Birds Don't Fly

I've decided to not take ao3 going down as a sign and post this anyways ❤

Magpie Au by @dyad-tmesis! Jekyll and Hyde are separate in this one. Everyone knows about Hyde’s wings, but very few know about Jekyll’s.

<ao3 link>

It was a day like any other when Jasper walked into Doctor Jekyll -Henry's office. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming, and Sinnet blew something up for the second time that day.

The were-boy had been hanging out in Rachel’s kitchen, dangling his legs and trying to look interested in what the day-manager was saying.

“-and that's the last time I let those two ‘help out’! I mean honestly you’d think they were children but I’d think even children would know not to use the same gloves for dishes you use to carry hazardous materials around!” she huffed, chopping some veggies with a bit too much force.

Jasper wasn't quite as sure but knew better than to disagree with someone holding a large knife.

“And on top of all the new dishes we need to buy I still need Doctor Jay to approve this week's meal plan, in case that wretch Frankenstein has any dietary restrictions, Ooh if I could get my hands on her-”

At this Jasper straightened up, his ears perking. “I could ask him if you need!”

It wasn't that he didn't like Rachel, or her stories, but it always felt awkward to be in a room with someone and not be working. Especially when they were. If she wouldn't let him help cook then he could certainly run a small errand or two! And admittedly he wouldn't mind an escape from her tirades…he still liked her though! (Not like-like, well, yes like-like but not not like-like)

She looked back, blinking. “Oh? If you're sure. You don't have to if you're tired, I know I couldn't sleep in the same room as all those creatures of yours.”

“Ha, I grew up on a farm miss Rachel, at this point I doubt I could sleep without them. And just one list won’t take long!” he begged.

She considered it for a moment, looking a bit put-out. “Hrmm. Fine, I can't say no to those puppy-dog-eyes. But you need to repeat exactly what I say, got it?”

Jasper grinned and nodded rapidly.

He walked in without knocking. A stupid mistake in hindsight. He knew better than most how important privacy could be to a person, but while juggling the list of ingredients Rachel told him and their expected costs it just slipped his mind.

To say he was startled would be an understatement.

Jasper pushed open the heavy wood door to see Edward Hyde. He'd heard all about the man from Rachel and the other lodgers. A wild and intense party guy who didn't fit well with the society's image, leading many to speculate on why Jekyll hired him in the first place.

Some speculations were a bit more… scandalous than others, while some claimed they absolutely hated each other. He didn't really believe them all, nor did he want to think about his boss that way thank-you-very-much, but it did make him curious to meet the so-called ‘spirit of London at night’.

True to the stories he had bushy straw hair and bright green eyes, and of course a small pair of golden wings sprouting from his back. Bird-like and alive.

And Henry Jekyll stood over them with the largest pair of scissors Jasper had ever seen.

For a moment time seemed to slow down, Jekyll lowered the scissors, big things made of heavy metal, to the base of one of Hyde's wings.

Jasper had never seen the wings before, (a warbler maybe? Or some kind of parrot? he felt numb), as he'd never met the man they were attached to, but he'd seen feathers lying around the society. Even been shown some Rachel had secretly held on to. And the fluffy gold feathers matched the wings before him.

But all he could see was red.

Without a thought he lunged forward snarling with a force he hadn't known he was capable of. Eyes locked on the man who saved him from being arrested, he could practically feel his fur emerging, begging his nails to grow into claws.

Nothing happened as Jekyll snapped his eyes up at the growl, just now realizing he was there. The were-boy pushed forward regardless, he was stronger than the doctor. With or without a transformation.

A shout, his vision was cut off by a blur of yellow. Real claws in the form of dark talons swiped at his face.

He clashed with the man-bird-guy. Feeling a bit bad about it, he shoved him to the side to get to Jekyll. Or tried to. Edward Hyde held onto his arm like a lifeline, kicking what he could and even swiping at the boy's hair.

Jasper held off the black talons, and a gold wing that smacked him repeatedly on the head. The assistant was surprisingly strong for being so small. His hat went flying and his shaggy hair danced in his eyes in the small gusts.

Panicked arms cast out for something to grab onto. As bad as it felt to do Jasper grabbed Hyde’s other wing and pulled. The cryptozoologist knew birds’ wings were often stronger than they looked, and was experiencing it firsthand. He muttered something adjacent to an apology as he swung both himself and the avian around. Wincing at his cry of pain and cussing.

Once more throwing the man off he darts forward and lunges at the frozen doctor. Talons pull him back by his sweater to start the fight anew.

After some more tousling Jasper is pulled from the opposite direction, the were-boy yanked by his shirt collar. Away from Hyde who simply hisses and raises a wing in warning instead of following.

Jasper realized he couldn't see Jekyll behind Hyde anymore, and chanced a glance away to look behind himself. Of course, there was only one person it could be.

“How could you?!?” he howled, struggling in his grasp. He could barely believe this was happening, even if Henry didn't like Hyde, like the lodgers said, he wouldn't do something like this would he? What could the man possibly have done to deserve his wings being taken away?

“How could- what?! Mr. Kaylock I demand to know why you felt the need to attack my assistant!”

Hyde hopped back and landed in a crouch on the large desk behind him. “Yeah, I haven't even threatened you with the shovel talk yet!”

“You were trying to cut his wings off, I saw you!”

Jekyll's eyes went wide and brows creased with concern. The hand holding him fumbled and loosened. “What? I would never!”

As the boy whipped around, he paused, “Wait… you weren't?”

“Of course not! Goodness is that what you were so worked up about?” Jekyll sighed, running a hand through his brown (auburn?) locks. “Edward’s wing was snared. I was trying to untangle it.”

Jasper blinked, “You were?” For the first time he looked closely at Hyde's wing, the one that hadn't extended properly the whole fight, the one that wasn't currently being held up in a defensive position with the other.

There, wrapped tightly around the feathered appendage, was a thin wire. Jumbled up and twisted around like a cat stuck in yarn. He watched in shock for a moment as the wing twitched against the cord, pushing uncomfortably against the metal web.

The man himself looked equally as uncomfortable, and maybe a bit embarrassed.

“You see, Mr. Hyde got himself tangled in a clothing wire during his excursion, god knows how, and I was simply removing it from his wing.”

“Did not! It was a fight I tell you! With some very bad guys!” Hyde cried, waving his arms around. His free wing puffing up in protest.

Jekyll rolled his eyes, “Ah yes, a fight, my apologies.”

Jasper felt himself calming down, heart still racing but slower now. “Oh…I, yeah that makes more sense, ha… But-but wait, the scissors?”

It seemed to be Jekyll’s turn to look sheepish, “Well, I figured there was no pressing need to return it. I tried to undo it myself but it’s quite stuck on there. Not to mention Edward’s notorious for not sitting still.”

Jasper thinks about this, slowly relaxing his stance. Hyde watches him skeptically, lowering his wing in turn.

Suddenly Jasper’s shoulders slumped as low as they can, a sigh of air exiting with a whoosh. “Thank goodness. I don't know what I’d do if that were me. If I had wings and had to lose them like that. It’d be like cutting off my tail.”

Hyde snickered, “Didn’t know you cared so much about little ol’ me.”

He looked up immediately, “Of course! I mean, not you specifically, but, no one should have to lose parts of themself like that. Even if you don't like it, it's still part of you. It still IS you. And cutting it out or hiding it is like hiding part of yourself. If you got rid of your wings you wouldn't be the same you anymore.”

Something in Henry’s eyes softened.

“I must say Jasper I’m quite impressed with your resolve, it’s nice to know you wouldn't hesitate to stop someone you thought was causing harm. Even if it happened to be me!” Henry smiled, something almost like pride in his eyes.

“Ha, um, well,” Jasper blushed at the praise, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s nothing really, I…I…” Jasper froze dead, eyes wide as he realized what just happened. “I JUST TRIED TO ATTACK YOU OH MY GOSH I'M SO SORRY!!!!!!”

Later on Jasper has to embarrassedly explain what happened to Rachel, then, even more embarrassingly go back and give Henry the list XD

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You're out of your mind if you think Rachel wouldn't throw hands with Frankenstein. Unlike the others she didn't grow up reading about and looking up to her; and if you think she's gonna stand for some ungrateful house guest punching her friend unprovoked you've got another thing coming. That being said, she wouldn't want to trigger any allergies on accident or go against any religion-related food preferences. Though mostly it’s in case it interferes w her medicine.

Fun fact the scissors Jekyll’s holding here are the ones in the sketch where he's cutting Edward's hair. They're just so big why did he use those ToT

The sketch I did that inspired all this!