#ALSO SAVE BOOK I'M SOBBING

[chocobje]

tPOT 9 AAAAA Redraw of my fav scene probably

[dazais-guardian-angel]

Reminder that the Dazai's Entrance Exam audiobook comes out tomorrow! It's narrated by Patrick Seitz, Kunikida's English dub voice actor!

Here are all the places you can buy it:

Barnes & Noble

Audible

Google Play

Apple Books

Libro.fm

[raven23anna]

Two days ago I remembered Krabat existed and now I remember how this book had me hooked as a teen in school. The story just sucks you in and I remember being amazed, enchanted and horrified at the same time. I'm amazed that a book like this exists. The analysis options are seemingly endless. There's so much symbolism to umpack. And Wikipedia said Otfried Preußler was processing his time in the Hitler Youth in Krabat and every word I'm thinking how and where? Like what does the magic stand for? What is Lyschko's role and meaning as a snitch ? What's with the war against sweden? Also it's only men in this story and I'm thinking about how that is also important somehow? It's almost like a fraternity kind of situation, with all the rituals involved and I never thought about this but working in manual labor kinda does this to you? Also the dualism between women only communities and men only communities and the dualism between christianity and black magic? Also thinking about work and work communities, the themes of fair work conditions, but also how working closely together can give you a sense of belonging...also the benefits and detriments of strict hierarchy in work communities/organizations. As a person who worked in a kitchen as an apprentice in the hundreds year old german apprenticeship system I appreciate the vague villinification of the boss and the weird emotional dynamics at play. Also how his trauma with the death of his friend resulted in pain and suffering for his apprentices? This book can be interpreted in a socialist way and in a non socialist way, it has so much to say about morals, culture, colonialism, society etc. It has so much to say about emotions, relationship and life, how to handle emotions as a man in a men only setting and how NOT to. It's just not brainy at all you just kinda get it? And it's literally just the german Harry Potter??? And I don't understand why just because of it's simple writing we only read it once in seventh grade and not later because the analysis options are fruitful and endless. I'm literally so impressed by the depth and sheer viceral quality of this book.

[inkskinned]

so while i was writing the book, i became violently suicidal.

this was mostly due to the fact that i had a very bad reaction to some meds and my brain stopped producing any serotonin. also i was in the last semester of grad school where it's actually illegal to feel anything but dread. so it wasn't going well.

somewhere in the fog of it i became aware i needed help. nobody was taking clients or my insurance. i didn't want to do inpatient care - it wasn't right for my needs. there's not really an "in between" stage between "inpatient" and "no care," but i was trying to do the right thing. i was trying to activate the chain of command that was my emergency plan. i knew i needed help now.

i used betterhelp.

i know, i know. i'm a straight-A student and so smart and so clever, how could i ever use something so blatantly bad. to be honest with you, i didn't feel particularly keen on it from the getgo - things that seem too good to be true usually are. also, if something online is free, the price is usually your privacy.

the thing is that there was kind of a global pandemic happening at the time and i worked 5 jobs alongside of being a fulltime student and also like writing a book on the side. it is a miracle that i even thought about getting help. i would love to tell you i had the mental wherewithal to like, process whether this was the right choice for me. mostly i was desperate. i was so suicidal that i was trying to find a reason to stay inside of fortune cookies. i was the kind of suicidal that looks like splatterpaint. i hadn't been that bad in an entire decade.

they took my data. i gave them it freely. somewhere out there, they have a dossier on me. on everything i survived. my story in little datapoints, scattergraphed beautifully.

the first woman told me that really i should be grateful, because (and this is a direct quote): "at least you're not anne frank." i said that i felt that statement was antisemitic, as anne frank's life and experience shouldn't be compared to like, a nonbinary lesbian in western massachusetts. the therapist said that i should try to use lucid dreaming to try to picture myself in an actually scary situation, like running from nazis.

i applied for another therapist. i was willing to accept the possibility that there was a bad apple in the bunch. the next therapist and i even laughed about how inappropriate that statement was. and then, in our next session: the new therapist said if i was struggling with body image issues, i should just work harder on my appearance. she spent 3 sessions in a row talking about how she was grieving, and made me memorize facts about her grandmother so "she can live on through my clients."

i am a three's-a-charm kind of person. okay, so what if the last person made me uncomfortable. i figured it was just a misunderstanding of priorities - she had felt she was sharing with me, i had felt like i had to take care of her. i applied for another therapist.

the last woman asked me to help her pray. she bowed her head. i stared at her, frozen, while she said: lord, i beg you: cure her. take the pain of being gay away from her.

i spent somewhere between 2.5 and 3 months on betterhelp. in that whole time, i was not getting the professional help i so desperately needed, even though i was fucking trying.

in the end, i survived this because i finally could get off the meds that were literally killing me. a request for a real therapist finally went through. i survived because my friends saved my life. because nick let me sob myself dry in his arms. because maddie took the razors out of my room when i asked them to. because grace slept over in my bed for like 3 weeks in a row since nobody trusted me not to hurt myself when i was alone. i survived because i got fucking lucky. because even when i was desperately suicidal, i was too old and too self-aware to take "you need to be prettier" as good advice.

the thing is that there's a 19 year old me who isn't like that. who would have heard "just think about how grateful you should be" and said - oh, i see. i would have assumed that is what it means to be in therapy: the same thing my abusers used to tell me. that i am just pretending and lazy. that i am ugly and unworthy.

betterhelp positioned itself to take advantage of an incredibly vulnerable community. it preys on desperation. it knows it is serving people who are not doing well mentally. it saw that there is a huge need for real, immediate, compassionate mental health care: and then it fucking takes your money and privacy.

i still get their ads on instagram. last night i watched as a woman in a pool pretends to talk to a different woman. they discuss her anxiety.

there's a 19 year old version of me, and she didn't survive this. she was too tired, and drowning. i almost fucking died. this thing almost fucking killed me.

in the ad, the woman playing the therapist takes a note on a clipboard and then nods once, sagely.

i have to admit it's a pretty scene. the steam and light coming off the pool water lands on the actresses. like this, it almost looks baptismal, holy.

[cosmicporos]

What Arcane characters would gift you for Christmas!

Jinx, Vi, Ekko, Viktor, Jayce

(Semi crack Drabble… sorry for going super long with Viktor’s and Jayce’s HCs. I LOVE THEM SO MUCH)

(Jayce is Hispanic in my hc :3)

ENJOY AND HAVE FUN LOVE YALL<3

Not proofread

JINX

Hear me out… the first thing she would plan to gift you are decorated safety googles.

As a matter of fact everything she gifts you is handmade!

She knows you love to spend time with her when she’s in her workshop and the extra spare of googles she had were pretty crappy…

“Ugh, these old things? Pfft, they look like they’ve been through a freakin�� explosion… oh wait, they probably have! We gotta get you a new pair soon toots!”

They’d be totally decked out! Lots of character as she calls it.

“Okay toots check it out! Maximum protection but most importantly! They got style!”

The googles themselves would be in her classic style, very colorful paint, cute little heart scribbles all around! And of course lots of glitter….

“"I mean, you've got to stay safe while causing mayhem, right? And hey, if we're blowing stuff up together, you'll definitely need these. Plus, I made them perfectly for you. No one else will have goggles like these... trust me!"

I totally see her adding little handmade jewelry from her gears and spare parts, would totally make you a belt or choker out of spare bullets.

Vi

She would totally panic on what to get you for Christmas. Like what if you suddenly hate the thing you’ve loved since the very beginning she’s known you???

Would end up both buying and making you something!

She’s make you something small but meaningful

“Okay Okay fine! You can open mine now. Just don’t laugh too hard Cupcake…”

You’d open the poorly wrapped gift to uncover a bright pink scarf she knitted you! The stitching is a mess.. there a hole’s through the project (no doubt a missed stitch) but in all honesty it so cute you feel like your heart might explode.

"Yeah, I know I'm not, uh, the best at this kind of thing," she mutters, scratching the back of her neck, "but I figured you could use something to keep warm... and, you know, 'cause it's winter. And... you're important to me."

Guys please tell her she did an amazing job PLEASE.

She would also totally buy you a pair of combat boots! Totally saved up for months in advance.

She loves the idea of being able to match and have a bit of her style on you!

Ekko

Just like Jinx (sobs) he’d also make something for you!

The first thing he’d give you would be a little sketch book full of drawings of you from random moments throughout your relationship he remembers oh so clearly.

"I've been working on it for a while... It's... it's just a bunch of drawings. I mean, not just anything. Stuff that made me think of you. Stuff we've done, or things I hope we do. I don't know, it just felt like the best way to show how I feel about... well, us."

Okay he would also totally make you matching jewelry (matching clock hand necklaces?)

You’d force him to take the hour hand since it’s shorter (heheheh little man)

Once you explain your reasoning as to why he should take the smaller one he sighs disappointedly…

"Okay, okay, I get it," he finally says, a little less playful now, his voice softening. "I guess if you want me to wear it, I can..."

Then, a grin creeps back onto his face as he adds, "But don't think I'm letting you off the hook with the minute hand. You're wearing that one for sure." He places the hour hand necklace around his neck, the smaller pendant resting there, and looks up at you with that mischievous gleam in his eye.

He pauses, holding up his necklace, "I'm still the one with the bigger job. You'll just have to keep up." A proud smug smirk now rests on his face.

Viktor

FUCK WHERE DO I BEGIN I LOVE THIS MAN

o k a y. He would just like Vi panic… not because he doesn’t know what to get you but because he totally is going Christmas shopping late… very very late.

As much as I would love to say he’d make some little invention to make your day easier and give it to you for Christmas I don’t see it happening.

Not because he wouldn’t do it but because he already does it all the time! A little example, you’re late for work often? A little robot that hits you with a plastic squishy hammer every morning at 7 am waking you up when he can’t!

He’d definitely want to make Christmas special, I see him buying you something and then doing something special for you too!

Christmas morning would be greeted with warm hugs and kisses along with an even warmer bowl of potato soup!

He wanted to make sure he perfected his mother’s Bramboračka recipe. It was a once a year meal him and his mother shared every Christmas day.

He’s not a good cook by any means… but this is the one dish he can make and oh boy can he make it.

"Don't expect perfection," he says with a small, self-conscious smile, as you catch him sneaking a taste of the soup. Viktor looks up, his gaze softening. "I hope you like it," he says, and despite his usual perfectionism, there's a quiet pride in his voice. You take a sip, and the rich flavors of mushrooms, potatoes, and herbs immediately comfort you, just like his mother's love must've comforted him all those years ago.

OKAY for the making gift he planned I see him commissioning something due to the fact a lot of his inventions lack aesthetics.

Specifically I see him commissioning a music box that functions as a a jewelry box as well! He would have loved to make it himself but he was worried he wouldn’t have gotten the look right.

"Do you like it?" he asks, his voice softer than usual, as if he's worried about the reception. "I had it made... I thought... it might remind you of us."

The detail was breathtaking-floral patterns etched into the surface, with tiny gears and delicate metalwork accenting the edges. The craftsmanship was stunning, and you couldn't help but run your fingers over the smooth finish.

you lifted the lid, and a gentle, lilting melody began to play. It was slow and sweet, a tune that felt timeless, and as you stared at the tiny figurines inside, your breath caught.

His fingers fidgeted with the edge of his cane, his gaze flicking between you and the music box. "I commissioned it," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "I had the craftsman use a sketch I made. It's how I see us... in my mind. How I feel when I hold you." He paused, his expression softening. "I thought... I thought you deserved something that would remind you of that. Of... how much you mean to me."

Jayce

Oh hon… Jayce would spoil you rotten.

I’m talking presents are overflowing underneath the tree.

You thought you lost your favorite piece of clothing? WRONG! He commissioned for more to be made in different colors and textures for you.

All the fragrances in the world he knew you would enjoy.

Cozy adorable pajamas we would give you Christmas morning so you could cuddle up drinking hot chocolate.

Spends Christmas Eve spoiling you and cuddling and being so tooth rottenly sweet.

It’s Christmas Eve, the scene was almost overwhelming. The living room looked like a perfectly curated holiday catalog-twinkling lights, a roaring fireplace, and, of course, an absurd number of gifts. Jayce sat cross-legged beside the tree, an excited grin lighting up his face as he handed you the first box. He had merely grinned, sheepish yet unrepentant. "What can I say? I got carried away?.”

"Open this one first," he urged, nearly vibrating with excitement. Inside was a bottle of an exquisite fragrance, the glass etched with delicate, swirling designs. It smelled divine-rich, warm, and entirely you.

"I figured you'd like that," he said eyes carefully watching everyone expression you make. You swear if he had a tail it would be swishing uncontrollably right now.

Christmas Day would be you spending Christmas day at his mother’s house!

(Listen I’m hc them as hispanic because for one HIS MOMS NAME HIS XIMENA… and two because why not :3 )

You have a great relationship with his Mother, she absolutely adores you and sees you as her daughter.

There’s lots of yummy food she’s prepared… perhaps too much for just 3 people?

Nonetheless, a pot of pozole, tamales de puerco and de dulce! And of course she made jayce’s favorite choco flan!

God she urges to to eat until you nearly pop! You have to undo your belt by the end of the night…

"Come, sit!" his mom insisted, pulling out a chair for you. "Jayce told me you've never had my tamales. That's a crime! Here, start with this." She placed one on your plate, her eyes twinkling.

Jayce sat beside you, his grin widening as you took your first bite. "Good, right?" he asked, nudging you playfully.

You could only nod, savoring the perfectly seasoned masa and tender filling.

Later in the evening, when everyone was too full to move, Jayce leaned over and slipped his hand into yours. His eyes were soft, his voice low as he said, "I'm glad you're here. This—" he gestured to the lively scene around you, "—feels perfect with you."

[munsonsmixtapes]

I'm Still Your Boy

Ex=boyfriend!Eddie x fem!reader

After your boyfriend cheats on you at your birthday party, your ex Eddie reminds you that he'll always be your shoulder to cry on.

cw: hurt/comfort, mention of cheating

You don’t know what you did to deserve this. Maybe it’s because of something you did in a past life. Some sort of karma, perhaps? Whatever the reason, you don’t think you actually deserve to be cheated on by your boyfriend. Your boyfriend who told you that he wanted to save himself for you and you alone, which seemed to be a fucking lie just to get in your pants considering you caught him with the very girl he told you not to worry about. 

They were fucking and to make it even more sad, they were fucking in your bed at your birthday party. Well, wasn’t that just the cherry on top of the shit sundae? And they were so caught up in each other that they didn’t even hear you slam the door. 

Before anyone could see you cry, you hurry to the bathroom, thankful that you’re upstairs and that no one else was around. What’s supposed to be a fun celebration has turned into something you’ll remember forever for all the wrong reasons. 

As soon as you’re alone, you sit on the toilet and begin to cry. Maybe you feel a bit pathetic but you can’t help it. Sure, it’s not like you actually loved the man, but it still hurts like hell. Especially when Josh told you time and time again that Chelsea would never be a problem. 

And now you find yourself wondering how long they’ve been doing it behind your back. And why you feel so hurt. It’s not like you even liked him that much. And now this is the excuse to break up with him that you’ve been looking for. 

You’re full on sobbing now and it’s not like you’re surprised, you were expecting it to happen with the way they’re always looking at each other, but you’d think your boyfriend would at least have some decency to not cheat on you at your birthday party. But apparently that was too much to ask. 

You grab some toilet paper from the roll next to you and blow your nose, absolutely positive that you look terrible with mascara tears streaming down your cheeks, but you can’t get yourself to look. That would just make you feel even worse. You spent hours on your makeup and now you let some stupid boy ruin it in a matter of minutes. 

Eddie doesn’t even know what he’s doing at this party. He wants to be here, but he’s not even sure why he was invited. The two of you broke up years ago and even though it was mutual and there was no bad blood, you just drifted apart. 

He feels so weird being here in this house. There are so many memories that the two of you have created here, a time capsule of your relationship. He wants to be there to celebrate you, but being there with all of the little moments the two of you shared throughout your relationship is far too painful to relive. He misses you so much more than he’d ever care to admit. 

He wants to be your friend again, but seeing the way your new boyfriend was glaring daggers at him when everyone was singing “Happy Birthday”, he’s not so sure that’s a good idea. He’s only known he guy a couple of hours and he’s already convinced with a few drinks in his system, he’d knock him the fuck out. 

His name is Josh for starters. Fucking Josh. That should be a red flag on its own. He also somehow got you the wrong cake which was clearly mostly for him since he seemed so excited about it. That seemed to be a common theme considering the same went for your gift. He got you a video game for a system that you don’t even have and it was the second one in a series. 

And Eddie swore he wasn’t going to leave the party alive when you opened your gift from him. It was a special edition of your favorite book as a child and if looks could have killed, he would have been dead. You seemed so grateful for the gift, even going as far as hugging Eddie, nothing but happy tears pricking your eyes. 

He didn’t realize just how much he missed holding you until you were in his arms again. You just fit so perfectly. Before he could reminisce too much, you pulled away, moving back to sit in Josh’s lap, but he was nowhere to be found. 

Out of all of your friends who were there, Eddie seemed to be the only one who could tell just how little fun you were having. How was it that you seemed to be invisible at your own birthday party? Why was he the only one who seemed to care? The two of you weren’t even friends anymore. Maybe after tonight, that’ll change.He really wants to reconnect. Maybe he can invite you out for coffee and the two of you can catch up. 

It’s almost midnight. Most of the guests have already left or they’re so drunk that they’ve passed out on the various pieces of furniture around the first level of the house. You’ve disappeared and that’s all Eddie cares about. He wants to find you so he can say goodnight and get the fuck out of there before he does something he’ll regret. 

He heads up the stairs on the hunt for you, but he realizes that he needs to go to the bathroom first. He knows he should anyway before he hits the road. He sees the bathroom door is cracked and heads for it, opening it expecting to see it empty, but he finds you sitting on the toilet sobbing your eyes out. 

“Eddie, hey,” you grin at him, trying your best to look normal even though your eyes are red and your cheeks are tear stained. 

“Hey.” He waves awkwardly in a way that you’ve always found so adorable. “Sorry, I didn't know anyone was in here. I’ll give you some privacy. He turns to leave, but you grab hold of his wrist before he can get too far. 

“Will you stay with me?” You ask with a sniff. He would stay with you even if you weren’t crying, but he especially will because you are. 

He shuts the door all the way then sits on his knees in front of you, forcing himself to look at you even though seeing you cry always broke his heart. He doesn’t know why you’re crying but he has a guess. He doesn’t ask even though he really wants to. He wants to wait for you to speak, not wanting to pry, but just keep you company as you go through a hard time. 

He takes the toilet paper from you and wipes away your tears, gently dabbing to preserve what little makeup is left. He knows how important that kind of thing is to you. Well, he’s actually not so sure you feel that way still. He forgets that he doesn’t actually know you anymore. 

“I look terrible, don’t I?” You look up at him, lips trembling and he really doesn't think he can take seeing you cry anymore. It’ll just make his heart break even more than it already has.

“You look beautiful as always.” It’s his go-to response but it always worked like a charm. He wonders if his flirting still has the same effect on you. He used to love seeing the way you’d get all giggly when he would compliment you. 

“But you have to say that, you’re my-” you cut yourself off, remember that Eddie isn’t your boyfriend anymore. Your boyfriend is the reason why you’re crying. “Sorry, habit.” 

“Don’t apologize,” he shakes his head. “You do look beautiful, though. That dress is great, but I wouldn’t expect anything less. You always did have good style, y/n.” 

“Is this all just your clever way of getting into my pants?” The words are dripping with venom and Eddie wonders what he said that made everything shift. He was just paying a compliment, nothing more, nothing less. 

His eyes widen and he stammers, trying his best to save himself quickly as he’s drowning fast. Your eyes widen as well so clearly you’re just as surprised by your sudden outburst. You have no idea where it came from especially since Eddie has never been that kind of guy and he especially wouldn’t be now knowing that you have a boyfriend.

“No,” he finally says as he’s able to find the words. “I was just paying you a compliment and you know that.” 

“I-I’m sorry.” You’re shaking your head, hating how you’ve spoken to him, accusing him  of something that he clearly wasn’t even doing. “I just caught Josh cheating on me and I guess I’m taking it out on you.” 

“He what?” Oh now he’s livid. He’s got to kick this guy’s ass now that he finally has an excuse. 

“It’s my fault,” you shake your head again. “I wasn’t giving him enough attention-” your words are cut off by Eddie taking your face in his hands, staring you down. 

“It’s not your fault. Stop making excuses for him y/n. That guy is a fucking loser and he doesn’t deserve you. He deserves to end up broke and alone.” You know he’s right but just want to pass the blame onto yourself because then there would actually be a reason for Josh’s cheating other than the fact that he just doesn’t seem to care about you. 

“You always know what to say, don’t you?” He does in your eyes. ever since the two of you started hanging out, he had a knack for telling you exactly what you needed to hear even if it was a little too blunt for your liking. You appreciated that he never failed to tell you the truth no matter how much it may have hurt.

“I try.” It seems like all of your feelings for each other that have been bottled up are pouring out, now almost palpable because of how strong they are.

“I miss you.” 

“I miss you too,” Eddie replies, moving his thumbs back and forth across your cheeks just like he used to do. “I’ll be kicking myself for letting you slip through my fingers for the rest of my life.”

“What if we gave it another try? The friendship part?” Your face lights up at his suggestion and you decide that this is the best birthday present you’ve ever received. 

“I’d really like that. Hey, I think Benny’s is still open. Do you want to get something to eat?” 

“I’d love nothing more.” Eddie helps you up from the toilet and leads you out the front door where you head to his van to head to the diner. 

The two of you find yourselves in your favorite booth, eating and laughing like no time has passed. You stay there into the early morning as the sun comes up, finishing off your meal with a milkshake that the two of you share for old time’s sake and right then and there, Eddie realizes that he’s still is very much your boy, still wrapped around your goddamn finger just the way he likes and there’s no other place he’d rather be.

[iwannascreameurekaa]

So you're telling me that Leo returned to what was basically his home after dying, after killing and sacrificing himself t save his friends, family, and everything he loved, after literally exploding which probably wasn't very painless, he got back to camp halfblood after all of that only for his siblings and friends and those loved ones he died for to line up and punch him?

no crying? No hugs? Nothing from the hoard of people that cared about him and might've missed him and thought that he had actually died?

and it wasn't even playful punches either because it states, multiple times in the book, that Leo was hurt and that the punches were painful?

okay Rick I understand what you were trying to do but seriously?

And the only person to do the whole "crying and hugging" thing, which is probably a lot more realistic than freaking punching him, when reunited with Leo was piper and that was basically only because she was already sobbing because Jason was dead

Sometimes the canon makes me wonder if these characters really did actually care about Leo cause it's hard to tell and now I feel even worse

justice for Leo yall this is just mean

Edit: after this being up for a while and having different peoples opinions and memories throw at it, i would like to say that Percy and Will are the only ones to NOT punch Leo on his return to camp half blood and Harley did in fact end up sobbing but he also punched Leo. Twice. Really really hard. So

one commenter said how they believed that this is a common occurrence of ricks writing being unable to shown negative emotion in a correct way idk how to word this and honestly yeah I'm starting to notice that too (not hating on Rick) sometimes I love these parts of the books where it just doesn't make sense cause that means that I and many other authors have full rein to rewrite it as we please and we're gonna do that anyways even if the canon made sense in the first place

[ccuniculusmolestus]

one thing the tsh fandom will do is constantly overlook the significance and also implications of henry and bunny's friendship in favor of relationships like henry and camilla. (and these were all realizations i had while talking to a friend so-)

we never see Bunny directly break down. well, we never see anything period because we're looking through Richard's eyes, and Richard never sees Bunny upset. I don't mean the upset where he's being mean or being a drunk in his dorm, I mean the kind of upset where he's sobbing and yelling out insults and threats and wrestling with Henry on the floor of their palazzo. I'm talking the kind of upset where he's screaming at Henry to stop touching him while crying in his bed.

We only ever hear that fight, and the other one in Rome we just get to hear of it. None of the others ever saw Bunny in that state, and I doubt they knew how the situation even arose. Only Henry did.

Only you know the way that I break.

And matter of fact, nobody saw Henry genuinely angry too. Even when he was dealing with Charles, he wasn't pissed per se, he was just annoyed and more ready to commit his third murder. I can't remember a scene where Henry genuinely loses it with someone he knows well (so, none of his friends). We only hear of him losing his shit with Bunny EXCEPT for the scene with Judy.

You push my buttons in a way nobody else can.

You know that makes me think, again, that him losing his shit at the party had less to do with Judy and more to do with Bunny. Think about it. Why would they be at a party where Bunny is nowhere to be seen? Why wouldn't Bunny, a party animal, be there with them? You'd think he might have invited the others, or at least heard of their intent to go and wanted to join them- but he just wasn't there. Why? What made the perfectly composed, stoic Henry lose his shit over something that, characteristically, shouldn't even annoy him? Who was later established to be the only thing in Henry's life capable of making him snap to the point of losing all self-control and resorting to violence?

That's right.

Bunny.

In every other case of aggressive, intentional, sober violence displayed by Henry, Bunny is the cause, on the receiving end, both times.

Henry and Bunny knew each other too much, way too much, and I'm tired of pretending theirs was not perhaps the most significant relationship in this story. Put aside the fact that the story is literally DRIVEN by them, put aside even the fact that they both are the only ones to die at the end (too much symbolism here kms), but their relationship genuinely is so fucked up and heavy it leaves more questions the more you think about them. So no, I don't think "Camilla was the only one who saw Henry for who he was" just because she was the recipient of his occasional smiles, because Henry was not just the gentle-giant she got to see. Neither do I believe "Richard was on the same frequency as Henry" because they had a shitty childhood (tbh all of them probably did?) and because Henry saved his ass from freezing. Henry was more so his rage and the anger he tried to keep sealed with the rest of himself, a destructive force trying desperately to reign himself in. Yes, he was not a bad person per se, but he was, like Bunny, a ticking time bomb (albeit a much more destructive one).

But even despite the anger and bitterness that later poisoned their relationship, I sometimes like to think of them whilst keeping in mind the fact that Bunny was the only one who could make Henry laugh. And Henry was the only one Bunny directly told about his past/home life. I think of them as freshmen, with Bunny's hair catching the sunlight in his lazy curls as his eyes crinkle and his tone rears back in preparation for a joke Henry doesn't see coming. And Henry, awkward in his detachment, with his nose in a book, trying to keep his lips from quivering up as the awful, stupid joke registers, and then failing to keep the chuckle from slipping through when Bunny's stupidly expectant face wriggles its eyebrows at him.

They were soulmates before they were friends.

And they were friends before they were enemies

[yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere]

new favorite video, yes!!❤️🤍💙 #RWRB #RWRBMovie #RedWhiteAndRoyalBlue thank you Aneesh!!

!! more VERY IMPORTANT RWRB content in this post: https://yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere.tumblr.com/post/739408729011781632/rwrb-this

.https://ew.com/taylor-zakhar-perez-honors-nicholas-galitzine-entertainers-of-the-year-2024-8759399 +CAST OF RED WHITE & ROYAL BLUE |FYC Panel - Consider Amazon:https://www.tumblr.com/yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere/769737016086839297?source=share

Henry Fox & Arthur Fox-post here: https://yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere.tumblr.com/post/738761008290627584/when-alex-texted-henry-yo-theres-a-bond

----from: https://instagram.com/p/C1POyPot_ZC/

+ CMQ spotify (characters' playlists!!) https://open.spotify.com/user/p873j0jdmqn5hye7cakdnub7e/playlists

my RWRB instagram highlight here: https://www.instagram.com/stories/highlights/18198132073262637/

BTW for everyone interested: Red, White & Royal Blue: Collector's Edition Henry PoV bonus chapter by Casey Mcquiston : https://www.tumblr.com/yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere/752528941905018880?source=share

+ also queer history/facts from RWRB(Alex engaging with queer history)(thank you SO. MUCH. CASEY MCQUISTON!!)-GREAT POST here on tumblr!!-many links here, lots of information! (Waterloo Vase, Stonewall, SCOTUS decision 2015, Walt Whitman, Laws of Illinois 1961, The White Nights Riots, Paris Is Burning, THAT David Wojnarowicz photo 'If I Die Of AIDS-Forget Burial-Just Drop My Body On The Steps Of The F.D.A' https://www.tumblr.com/yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere/757305651356729344?source=share (I encourage you to research more about David!!) , Thisbe & Pyramus, The V & A, James I & George Villiers and MORE!!) https://www.tumblr.com/yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere/757308307835895808?source=share (Learning about things referenced in Red, White & Royal Blue, thank you @ elipheleh)

THIS SONG IS SO FIRSTPRINCE!! thank you Nick & Taylor, i'm adding it to my RWRB playlist!!

♥. and now some RWRB links here:

Matthew talking about Alex's bisexuality ahead of the movie:

Alex, our ACD, our bisexual king post:

our FIRSTPRINCE post/mostly beautiful pictures/:

FIRSTPRINCE EDITS(post with edits/links♥):

coming out-important post/A's speech(both movie+book versions):

RWRB DELETED SCENES post:

RWRB BLOOPERS/BTS post:

THAT SCENE-Alex and Prince Henry Flirt Over Text:

KARAOKE SCENE:

Them reading RWRB:

!! https://nicostiel.tumblr.com/post/725473496174575616/red-white-and-royal-blue-2023-text-posts

+ https://www.tumblr.com/yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere/729333681897046016/the-delicate-art-of-the-grab-and-kiss?source=share

.

[dustyrkives]

PAIRING: GP! Ada Wong x Fem reader __________________ WARNINGS: vampire x human, bl00d drinking, religious undertones, religious guilt, age gap (duh), Ada can turn into both male and female, biting, mating, breeding, nightmares, sleep-walking, horror, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, breath-play, slow burn, enemies to–???, vampire turning. I think that's about it? –––––––––––––––– WORDCOUNT: 9,169 (this was self-indulgent, oops 😭😭😭💀) __________________ A/N: I'M SORRY THIS TOOK LONG HUHU. I was stuck during the drafting process and it drove me insane. Sorry for keeping you all waiting; here's the fic I promised!

Also, this is no longer project kafka as I mentioned. And Ada isn't a bioweapon–more like a vampire succubus.

Also Profanus Devorator means Profane Devourer in latin.

There’s a saying that if you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back at you. 

Tonight–you learn such a proverb–in trembling hands intertwined in prayer, knees planted against the tiles of your room, a thin sheen of sweat coats your already-pale skin. In your peripheral vision, in the darkness of your room, something–someone, stood in your room. The atmosphere weighs heavy, temperature cold; the hairs in the back of your neck stood while your organs felt as though they’ve turned inwards. Your eyes didn’t dare leave the window as the heavy stench of earth, leather and smoke filled your room, restricting the air from your lungs.

The intruder takes a step towards you, your heart plummets, body cold with trepidation as it takes another step, and another, and another. Slow and unnaturally loud as it stops behind you. 

A quiet sob leaves your lips as a cold hand slowly grasps the back of your neck, pressing your mother’s necklace against your skin, its pointed talons gently digging against your flesh. A deep, grating voice pierces through the air, you feel it stab into your soul. 

“Excitavisti me ex somno aeterno. Nunc mihi iuratus es.” It rasps,“visne te mihi devovere?”

Your jaws–locked, voice–absent in terror. You nod.

The hand painstakingly releases your neck, but its claws scratches your skin; despite the pain, you don't flinch; terror keeps you numb as lips press against the available skin of your shoulder. Cold and unapologetic before a strong gust of wind devastates your room, leaving through your window. 

Your body finally remembered its owner as you fell to the ground, your palms supporting your weight as your heart hammered against your ribcage, a thunderous beat reverberated through your body. Your hand clutched at your chest, fingers trembling as if trying to prevent your heart from bursting out of your ribs; vision blurring. 

But something was amiss. 

Your hand scrambles around your chest. Your necklace was gone. Torn away from your neck. 

That night, you were only sixteen years old. 

Your eyes stare blankly at the window from within the library watching aimlessly as strangers pass by. The sky was rather dark despite it being only four in the afternoon; but it doesn’t matter. Hours pass by, you greet customers, assist them with their preferred media in your town’s local bookstore. 

Tonight, you continue your monotonous pattern of assisting customers, arranging books, recording sales and cleaning aisles before your shift ends around eight in the evening. Eyes downcast, your steps measured as you walk your way home to your apartment. The town is silent with a few cars driving in the road, their headlights illuminating your dull path. For years, you’ve been repeating the same routine; get up before six, go to work as the cashier, go home by eight. You’ll continue this pattern–saving enough money so you can finally move into the city and leave the dull town behind. Where? You’ll cross that bridge when you have finally had enough. Your growth to adulthood was rather bleak–you refuse to count the strange encounter, and yet it haunts you even at your waking moments, causing you to space out. 

You know every individual in town but made very few friends–they’ve moved elsewhere now, wanting for more opportunities that the town couldn’t offer, leaving you with its barren offers yet your prospects were enough. 

You absently stare at the window again, tuning out the voices of your customers as you scan and charge their books. 

“My dad told me that someone purchased a private property near the end of town.” Says a loud customer as they wait in line while you scan another customer’s magazine. “He said she paid him a lot for his commission too.”  “She must be well-off then?” It was their turn in the line as the two friends continued to converse. “Oh, she is.” the man coughs as he hands you his money.

“She’ll probably come to town tomorrow to finally move in. If you ask me, a woman of her wealth is better off living in the city. But who knows, maybe she wants a change of scenery.” 

“Still though,” the other friend chuckles, “there are better options.”  Your lips curl upwards as you silently agree with them as they leave the store. 

You woke up, parched. 

A silent groan escapes your lips as you turn in your sheets, fishing for your phone on the nightstand before checking the time and squinting against the bright light glaring as you read the time. 

2:45 AM 

You exhale through your nose and get up, only using your phone’s light to guide your path. Quiet steps echo in your dark apartment as you make your way to the fridge, a yawn escapes your lips before you freeze in your place. 

The awfully familiar rich smell of earth, leather and smoke fills the kitchen and it squeezes the air out of your lungs; your body stiffens as the hair behind your neck raises. Your gaze locks with the window. The apartment was surrounded by trees–it was difficult to see through the darkness. 

Except for those bright red, beady eyes. 

Your yawn turns into a silent scream of unimaginable terror. 

It wasn’t just hanging by the trees. No. It was right there outside your window, eyes peering close and deep, then the sound of something sharp scratching your window, the grating, piercing noise makes your eyes twitch and your body shudders with discomfort before the noise stops, and the sound of strong winds hitting against your window, and the beady eyes disappear into the darkness. 

The stench vanishes, and you double over, gasping for air, eyes wide as your phone drops, nearly missing your toes. 

“What the fuck?” You gulp as beads of cold sweat form down your back–uncomfortable. Your body trembles as you stand up, feet rushing to the window next to your fridge, and sure enough… there was a long deep scratch outside your window; the urge for drinking was gone, along with the creature that visited your humble abode.  

The next few days were a blur, it was as if your body was on autopilot, you’re doing what you routinely do, but you feel absent. That includes waking up in the early hours of the morning, between two to three in the morning, always parched, and your eyes would always look out into your window to see those beady eyes staring pointedly at you. Like your daily routine, it became monotonous; draining. 

Oh, but that was only the beginning. 

“Oh, how beautiful you’ve grown…” Says the distorted voice, it was difficult to tell if it was a man or a woman. You remain stiff in your bed, hands shakily gripping your blanket as cold sweat rolls down your forehead, eyes trained at those same red eyes that have been haunting you in the early hours of the morning. 

A distant, shrilling chuckle echoes through your room. Your insides churn as the creature stays in the shadows, yet it circles your bed. 

“It has been a decade, you’re still the same terrified girl I’ve laid eyes upon.” It coos. “Why is that, hm?” 

A shudder leaves your lips as an outline of a figure steps away from the darkness, yet it remains obscured. “Do you fear me? Am I that terrifying to look at?”

Slow, tantalising footsteps echo in your room towards you, then it stops at the foot of your bed–your organs have turned inwards again as your whole body trembles. The creature disappears from the shadows, only for it to appear above you, its head peering down closely at you… which is weird because your headboard is against the wall… there is no space for that thing to stand behind your bed and look at you at that angle, red eyes staring down at your own. The entity slowly blinks before pulling back, the shadows envelope their figure… and you are left with an unsettling silence. 

The stench was gone, even when that–thing was in your room. Your body then begins to sink into your bed. A wave of panic rises as you let out interrupted screams as you try to scramble–claw your way out. It was no use… the sheets have already swallowed you whole. 

Your body wakes with a start, dizzy, confused and with the urge to vomit as the fresh smell of wet earth fills your nose. 

You aren’t in your bedroom… and sure as hell you’re not in your apartment as a throbbing headache shoots throughout your skull as you stumble back before balancing yourself on the cold, wet grass–just behind your apartment. The skies are gray yet again. Atmosphere, cold and foreboding as if it witnessed your predicament before you gained consciousness. 

“How the fuck did I get here?” You stammer, body cold and weak as you clutch your chest… feeling a damp spot as you retract your hand only to be met by crimson liquid. You look down at your chest, your top was slightly unbuttoned as blood oozes out from the pierced skin–bite marks just above your right breast.

A shaky exhale leaves your lips as you lean your bloody hand against the wall of your building while the other clutches your bloody shirt, your steps–slow and unsteady as you walk back into your apartment with the resolve to call in sick for today… 

The creature didn’t haunt you after that…

Yet–no.

Your face scrunches in disgust as you look outside your window, nails digging against your thighs as a soft sob leaves your lips. An uncomfortable feeling gnaws your insides as your mind cruelly berates you. 

Disgusting… How could you long for something so profane?

This is sickness.

This is shame. 

Repent

As darkness swallows your living room, you swallow harshly as you join your hands in prayer. It had been long since you last prayed–you were only sixteen years old when the creature came into your room whilst you were praying… and strangely enough, it was also the last time you wore your mother’s necklace before it was also taken away from you–in a way, it also took away your peace. Ever since then, you stopped with your prayers. Yet that didn’t stop the heavy feeling of monotony that looms above you every single day of your life. 

Perhaps, it’ll be different now, that comfort and reassurance will come–just as you have prayed back then, only this time, it won’t be the creature that answered. It will be God. 

But there is none. 

Regardless of how earnest your prayers were, the looming heaviness remains, and a restless feeling gnaws at you once again as you bow your head, your hands purchase the hairs on your side as you let out a shaky exhale. 

“Please,” You whimper, though not knowing why. “Please…” 

After minutes of sitting still, you fix your posture; hands tugging your shirt to see the healed bite wound on your breast and oddly… felt comfort. 

Regardless of lethargy, you return to work the next day.

Your movements, sluggish, eyesight blurry as the cycle begins. “I thought you’d be away for another day?” The manager mused as she leaned away from the counter. You can only shoot her with a smile, though it doesn’t reach your eyes. “I feel restless when I’m doing nothing.” 

Which was true. 

The sweet old lady chuckles and pats your shoulder. “Well, I’ll leave the rest to you, kiddo. Glad to have you back.” Your eyes didn’t leave her retreating figure until she entered her office, leaving you to manage the cashier as more customers began browsing the aisles. A long sigh escapes your lips as you crane your neck to the window, the skies are bright, perhaps a positive sign of things to come.

Hours passed by, and it was nearly closing time–you were recording sales again when the chimes rattle, alerting that a new customer has entered. 

“We close in ten minutes!” You call out, not taking your eyes off the record book. 

A rich feminine tone reaches your ears. “Well, if that’s the case–then I’ll need your help.” 

You finally tear your eyes away from the book, your breath hitches. 

Before you, stood a woman no older than thirty, black short hair styled to a sleek bob, ​​her bangs frame her face elegantly, with a subtle, side-swept look.. Sharp, intelligent eyes caged by monolids, her complexion shames the moon, her features: sharp and well-defined. Her lips are full, adorned with a subtle red. She wore a perfectly pressed black leather trench coat and knee-high black boots. Everything about her seemed precisely tailored from head to toe, but when your eyes meet hers; you are met with a strange sensation. 

You’ve never seen her in town before.

“W-what can I help you with?” You wince at your tone as the older woman looks around before her lips curl to a subtle smirk. “I was wondering if you can point me to the classical section?”

“Just by the hall, to the left–”

“I would prefer it if you take me there.” She interrupts as her striking brown eyes pin you. 

You swallow before nodding, “Sure… right this way.” But as you walk past her to take lead, a sharp pain shoots through your right breast–you instinctively clutch it with a soft gasp. The stranger tilts her head, “Are you alright, miss?”

“Y-yeah,” You gulp before fixing your posture. “Uh, right this way.” Though your hand remains clutched to your chest as you both wind down the aisle. Your breath is uneven. “Here we are.” Your hand gestures at the plethora of books housed on shelves. 

“Thank you,” Says the woman as her eyes flit to your name tag. “What a beautiful name.” She purrs as her slender, well-manicured hands grab the spine of the book. You nod wordlessly before turning away from the woman to go to the cashier. Her footsteps follow behind you, slow and tantalizing.

Your movements have once again become sluggish, uncoordinated, vision blurring as a heavy feeling looms on your head. 

What’s happening?

It felt as if you were not in control of your body, everything felt distant–numb before the stranger’s voice shot through. Snapping you back to reality. Her face inches above yours as her arms secured your figure. The alluring scent of earth, leather, smoke and amber filling your senses–your stomach churns, heat filling your cheeks as she slowly blinks at you. 

“You alright?” The woman mused. “You nearly face-planted against the floor.” 

“Yeah,” You stammer as you place distance between her and you. “I’m alright. Thanks for the save.” A nervous laugh escapes your lips. The older woman hums as you two reach the cashier, finishing the transaction with an awkward note. Before the woman takes her purchase, she flashes you a juxtaposing smile before leaving. 

You couldn’t take your eyes off of her until the door closes, and the chimes ring. 

The torment returns. 

It was two in the morning yet again. Throat dry, your phone used as a torch to guide your path to your fridge–those blasted, red beady eyes locked at your figure. But instead, it was no longer staring from outside your window… it’s inside. Sitting in one of your chairs by the dining table. Your body feels cold all over, muscles constricting–stiff and rigid. Your heart erratically beats; breath at a stand-still as the suffocating aroma fills the air: earth, smoke and leather. 

Yet, beneath it all–warmth. 

Uncomfortable warmth. 

Trepidation drips down your forehead as the creature stands up, stalking towards you and away from the shadows. The black tendrils, trying to coax its master to remain in darkness, but the creature ignores it as it extends its sharp talons towards your face, a futile whimper and a sob leaves your lips as your stomach twists in fear, vision blurring as the stench singes your nostrils; flinching as both of its palms touch your face, it was so cold that it felt like your skin was on fire as you tremble in the creature’s touch before it pulls away.

On cue, your lips let out a loud gasp as the stillness that once possessed your body frees you; falling to your knees as you gasp for bated breath. Slowly, you look up to see the creature holding a necklace–your eyes widen as the creature dangles it in front of you, a piercing chuckle echoes in your room. 

“Your necklace was losing your scent…” The creature purrs as it inhales your necklace, almost reverently. “Has anyone told you… you smell of roses?”

It circles around you, like a beast surveying its prey. “Sweet and delicate.” 

You shakily reach for your necklace, but the creature coos and lifts its hand away from your reach. “No. It is mine now.”

A soft whimper leaves your lips, unable to form words of protest. The creature cups your face, beckoning you to look at… her. 

Your pupils constrict as a subtle smirk graces her features. “What’s wrong?” Her voice, rich, feminine… and steely. “If I remember correctly, you seem to like it back in the bookstore.” 

The woman tilts her head, “Or do you prefer…” You flinch as the sound of squelching flesh and twisting bones fills your ears, then a masculine voice. “This?” 

Your breath hitches at the sight of the woman–now turned man, he shared the familiar features of the woman as if they were siblings, though his stature is tall, imposing. Yet just as beautiful. 

And finally, you find your voice. 

“W-who are you?” 

The imposter grins, “I am what you have been refusing.”

“No,” Your voice chokes with shame as the man’s eyes flashed red. 

“Oh, but yes…” He sneers. “I am what you so-desperately desire.” 

“No!” 

A loud snarl echoes in your apartment, your heart constricts as a pathetic sob leaves your lips. “Yes I am!” The creature huffs as it returns to the form of the woman back in the bookstore. “You will learn to accept that you are mine just as I am yours.” She husks, “You pledged yourself to me after all, pretty girl. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?” She wipes the thin sheen of sweat coating your face. 

No.

“Who are you?” 

What are you?

The woman chuckles. “I’ve had many names… but you can call me Ada. Ada Wong.” Ada smiles, “Or if you prefer a man–Adam.” Ada narrows her eyes before sighing. “I’ve overstayed my welcome.” She looks down at your top, “But first, a bite.” 

Your eyes widen as she yanks your collar, her strength lifting you from the ground and popping the buttons from your top as her canines extend to sharp fangs. A shriek leaves your lips as her fangs pierce the skin of your chest, her other hand muffles your mouth as it drinks your crimson of life, the painful sting ebbs to bliss as your eyes roll back, your breath shuddering as a soft moan leaves your lips–shame follows as your body warms with delight as your hands grasp her coat while the other tugs at her short hair. 

The creature–Ada, growls softly, creating gentle vibration spreading across your skin before pulling away gently. You shudder and moan in woe with a touch of bliss. She runs her tongue flat against the oozing wound, cleaning the blood that pools around your skin before your eyelids grow heavy, and you slip from consciousness. 

You wake up the next morning on the floor.

A pained groan leaves your lips as you get up on the floor, wincing as you feel the sticky texture of dried blood on your shirt. You feel lightheaded, dizzy and nauseous. You tug on your shirt, cringing at the stain of your blood–there it is, a bite mark on the center of your chest, the bleeding has stopped, only the stains and wound remain. You grab the edge of the table for support, knees wobbling as you stand. The sun has already risen, but you don’t feel its warmth as you stare blankly at it while it fills your dining area with light.

You look down at your wound, the pads of your fingers brush against them softly–warmth. 

And this time, shame dwindles. 

You saw her–him. Again. There’s no mistaking it. 

This time, he changed to casual wear: red button up shirt, black tapered trousers and shoes–he kept the black leather trench coat. His expression neutral as he aimlessly wanders around the aisle, his striking brown eyes stare at the covers before stopping by the History section. 

You eye him warily as the other customers, especially girls, nudge their friends and indirectly point at him with a shy smile or grin. 

A soft frown graces your features as you absently scan and charge another customer before handing them their change. Your eyes follow his slender, graceful hands as he opens a random History book. His daytime appearance seemed to belong in his surroundings–calm, unassuming. 

Compared to the nights the creature has haunted you. 

Fed on you.

A chill shoots down your spine, the wounds singe. You bite your lower lip to muffle the pained groan that threatened to leave your lips as your hand instinctively clutched your chest while the other hand palms the smooth edge of the deck for support. 

“Everything alright?” Your ears perk upon hearing his voice. It’s not as grating as it was previously, instead it was smooth, velvety and juxtaposing. Slowly, you turn your head towards him. He was in front of the counter, he was close enough for you to smell him; smoke, leather, wood, lavender and nutmeg. A knowing smirk plays on his lips as he eyes you. 

Subtle, not overpowering. 

“Y-you,” You stammer as he places a book atop the counter. 

“I’m purchasing this book.” 

Your eyes shoot down at the thick book–history. You peer over his shoulder, no one follows after him as your eyes slowly meet his; your throat dries as he flashed them red at you–you snap your eyes away from him, nails digging against the counter as your heart leaps to your throat. He observes this–a faux disdainful tone fills his voice. 

“Your reaction wounds me, sweetheart.” He purrs. “Is this how you treat your customers?”

Your jaw locks as your hands automatically scramble for the book and quickly scan it. “Th-that’ll be $11.48.” 

He hums and hands you the bill, you visibly wince as his deathly cold fingers brush against yours. “Keep the change.” He tells you; his eyes following your rushed movements before you hand him a paper bag containing his book. The creature doesn’t take it. 

Instead, he leans against the counter, close enough for you to see a necklace wrapped around his neck–your necklace. “I think it suits me better than you, no?” He grins, not bothering to hide his fangs as the gleam menacingly beneath the fluorescent lights. Your throat tightens and you shudder as your eyes trail lower–the blasted creature unbutton three, allowing you to see the smooth, defined chest beneath the shirt. 

He chuckles at this while you once again look away, a cheeks warm and your stomach churns–shame on you.

The former tilts his head, “Why deny your feelings, sweet girl?”

You didn’t dare look at him and stayed silent. The man huffs and takes the paper bag and turns away from you, “You will learn to accept me.” He peers over his shoulder, “And when that happens, it will be the best thing you did.” 

With that, he leaves. Though his words echo in your brain like a broken record as your day finishes–though it was a blur.

You didn’t walk home immediately after your shift. 

Instead, you opted to take a walk–not exactly ideal considering your parents have warned you about the dangers of the night; you just didn’t find it in you to heed anymore. Hands in your coat, your eyes close as the cool breeze grazes your skin, even when you wear a coat–the chill nips at your bones. You continue in your path, your vision blurry as you allow your feet to take you wherever they seem fit–you know your way around town after all. You wander aimlessly, your footsteps echo the empty streets until it echoes no more. Only the soft patch of footfalls against grass and dirt. Your vision clears–you’re in the park. 

A heavy sigh leaves your lips, neck craning to see if you’re not the only one in the park, but as you look up, your eyes widens with shock, your blood runs cold and the color drains from your face while the air changes around you–heavy with dark foreboding. 

You look up, and your jaw slacks. 

There, at the apex of the lamp post, Ada was crouching. Her dark hair leaning forward, only allowing you to see her bright crimson eyes, skin pale as the moon. However, it’s not her presence that sets you off. 

It’s the dark, long cape that blocks the light of the lamp–

Wait, that isn’t a cape…

Wings. 

Those were huge, bat-like wings–it was twice the size of her body. 

Her wings raise, blocking the moonlight–wide and imposing before it morphs into her black leather trench coat. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She mused, her voice–unlike in your nightmares–smooth, sultry and deceivingly sweet. “Care for a walk?”

Your other foot takes a step back, and Ada’s gaze sharpens. Her smooth voice fills with absolute command. 

“You’d do well to say yes to me, my sweet rose.” 

She gracefully lands on the ground, not a single speck of dirt on her. 

“It will do you good,” A ghost of a smirk graces her lips. “And you will learn to bend to your nature.” 

A soft scoff leaves your lips, “What nature?”

She walks past you, “There’s no point in asking when you know it.” Ada looks over her shoulder, “Intimately.” 

You tear your gaze away from her as the familiar uncomfortable feeling stirs in your gut. Ada’s voice fills the empty park. “Come along now.” You let out a shaky exhale as you follow the older woman, your hands ball into rigid fists in your coat pockets as you heed her. 

“This town is rather peaceful, no?” Ada narrows her eyes at your silence. “Speak, girl. I am not here to harm you.” 

“Yet why drink from me? Harm me?” You blurt. Your organs feel like dropping as Ada turns her whole body towards you. “It is our way of feeding–it has always been like that for centuries.” The short-haired woman smirks, “And it doesn’t harm you… it brings you pleasure.” 

You snort. Disbelief. 

But deep down, you know it’s true, and Ada merely chuckles darkly at your refusal. “You are a stubborn woman.” 

“Don’t poke fun at me!” You burst, voice tight and distant. “For years, you felt like a heavy blanket–stinking of smoke, earth and leather.” You sharply inhale, “You have done nothing but weigh me down and make me miserable!”

“Miserable?” Ada chuckles, her voice dropping an octave lower. “Fool.” She then disperses like a black smoke and appears in front of you, a startled gasp leaves your lips as you turn to run but her hand grabs your wrist in an iron-like grip before yanking you back to her. Ada’s red eyes glowered dangerously down at you whilst you trembled in her hold as her distorted, cold and steely voice filled your ears. 

“I saved you.” She hisses, her fangs barred. “Have you forgotten why you prayed that night?” 

A guttural growl reverberates from her throat, “You prayed for companionship. You prayed to quell the loneliness that haunts you from your childhood. Your god did nothing.” She leans down to your ears, leaving nothing but goosebumps and a chill running down your spine. 

“But I did.” A pregnant pause, “Can’t you see the efforts I have done for you? I kept you away from harm. I have made myself beautiful for you; to be an object of your ire and yet you shun me as if I am your shame.” 

“Because you are!” You sobbed as your knees wobble. If it wasn’t for the nocturnal being that held you up, you would’ve fallen to the ground. “You’re my shame! A repulsive desire–you make me sick–!”

A snarl silences you and you whimper and avoid her piercing eyes. Her fangs gleam with danger, her voice–dangerously low. “And yet you’ve called for me, sweet rose.” She rasps, “And I have come. For centuries, a lonesome creature like me slumbers in the darkness–until you woke me. Not many people can do that.” 

A whimper leaves your lips as she grasps your jaw and tilts your chin upwards, her voice returns to normal. “I am an impatient creature.” She inches closer, the tips of her lips nearly touching yours. “And I have endured for you–waited for you the moment your skin has blessed my lips that night. I have craved for nothing but you.” 

You stifle a gasp, “You crave my blood.” 

“Oh, but much more.” Ada pulls you closer to her frame, “Your heart.”

A scoff leaves your lips as your palms rest against her upper chest, “I don’t think something like you can love.” A soft purr vibrates in her chest, she releases you from her hold. “It’s beneath me. I can only devour such an appetite of emotions.” The creature gives you a well-practiced smile, “But I possess like any man or woman towards the things they value–they keep.” 

The smile drops as she looks up at the moon, “The hour is late. You must head home.” 

“Y-you won’t feed from me?” 

“No,” She answers immediately as she slowly holds up her palm. Black smoke envelopes you, your chest tightens as you try to move away from ensnaring darkness–but it was futile, even though she has said it. 

“It is useless to fight it.” Her voice becomes distant, as your eyelids grow heavy and the darkness swallows you. 

You wake with a gasp. 

You sit up, eyes looking around your surroundings–you’re in your bed, in your apartment; your hand tugs on your shirt to see if there’s any new bite marks.

And true to Ada’s words, there are none. You let out a breath and look outside your window–daylight kisses your room and for once, you felt its warmth.

Ada didn’t come to the bookstore today; and neither has she made any appearance at night–even in your nightmares… though you don’t know if they can be considered nightmares anymore.

Regardless, you long for her to come to you again as she did every night, and as you realize this thought.

The weight of shame looms no longer. 

The creature’s absence is a hollow pit to your soul. 

You find yourself staying up longer than usual. Each day later than the last. You find yourself walking around the town, to the park where you had last conversed with her, hoping to see her perched up a tree branch or atop the lamppost. 

But you were wrong. 

Oh–so wrong. 

As days pass by, you find yourself restless without the creature’s nightly visits, hell–hauntings, even. They had once filled you with dread and terror, and now, all you feel is longing. 

This is your new torment–her absence. 

For every visit, every nightmare–they were a macabre fix to your dull monotonous life. And now she is gone–such a feeling of relief was fleeting. 

You lay there in your bed, the pads of your fingers brush against the bite mark on your skin–caressing the remnants of her presence. You turn to the side before curling in your sheets, a shaky sigh leaving your lips before you whisper her name; a prayer. 

Yet you are met with an empty dream once again. You look at your dinner blankly–just canned food and rice. You didn’t have the mood to cook nor order takeout, you merely scooped five spoonfuls of food before deciding to retreat to your bedroom to freshen up and wait for the nightmare to flood your dreams despite knowing that it will be blank just as any other night. As you twist and turn in your bed, your thoughts keep you up, forcing you to deal with the reality that she may not come back–all because you couldn’t accept your nature. 

Your unnatural longing. Desire. 

You hug your knees to your chest, heart heavy with emotions you refuse to acknowledge. 

No, not yet. 

As the clock strikes at four in the morning; you finally have fallen asleep. 

You wake up just in time once again, however, your energy plunges as you do your same exact routine. Take a bath, freshen up and go to work, ignoring the taste of bile crawling up to your mouth. Every step feels like taxing, and every breath you take was a chore as your vision blurs, yet your feet take you to where you have programmed it to be. The shouts of the outside world felt rather distorted–fleeting. 

Today, you chose to be the prisoner of your own mind, allowing your eyes to be as far away as your thoughts while your arms and legs kept you rooted to reality only when it demands for you. Real world be damned. 

The creature left you in peace, but it felt as if its absence only left you in pieces. 

Anger, bitterness, then there it is again; longing. 

You would caress the wounds she had left–but not even those stay long. They were healing. 

And you don’t want them to heal. 

Without thinking–you pick on the healing tissue, peeling it away and hissing softly as you pluck out the healed skin. Automatically, blood began to ooze but that doesn’t deter you. After peeling the first–you came for the second, then the third. The same can be said for your injury above your right breast. 

You slept with a bloody shirt on; that didn’t bother you as twisted comfort warms your body. This is enough, this will suffice. 

But for how long?

Not for long

And so was her absence.

Three days after peeling your bite mark, just as you’re about to fall into a dreamless sleep–darkness enveloped you. 

The smell of smoke, leather and earth fills your lungs as you open your eyes. Darkness. 

Your heart leaps, a soft joyous gasp leaves your lips as you snap your head around. This darkness is familiar to you; your heart has already mastered it. “Ada!” You croak, the echoes delay as you walk aimlessly–deeper into the darkness until you see an opening, there she is, standing with her back turned towards your figure. Her stature–tall and poised and wrapped in mystique. Suddenly, the stench of death didn’t reek. 

Instead, it smells of rose, leather, amber and blossom. 

Inviting.

She slowly turns to you, her countenance tainted by cracks on her skin as her eyes glow a sultry red as she raises her hand, beckoning you to take it while the moonlight kisses her figure. You let out a shaky breath as you take a step towards her, the shadows weigh heavy, as if trying to ward you away from her. As you slowly walk towards her, her form distorts from man to woman, woman to man, the warning whispers distort as the line between shame and longing becomes nothing but a blur as you throw yourself towards her, a sob of relief leaves your lips as your body lights with warmth as you tighten your embrace.

A purr reverberates from Ada’s chest as her hand caresses your back slowly before her claws dig through your clothes as she leans down, her cold breath fans against your ear. 

“I told you… you will accept me and accept your nature.”

She snakes her hand up and tugs the back of your hair. You quietly gasp as you stare up at her male counterpart and his blasted open shirt, exposing the cracked skin that mar his skin. Sitting at the base of his neck is your missing necklace. 

“See what you do to me?” He hisses as his voice becomes feminine. “See the lengths I’ve gone through to hold back?”

Ada returns to her female form and growls as her eyes flash while she shows you her fangs, bright and red at the pointed tip before she clamps it shut. 

“I am a patient and enduring creature.” She says brusquely. “And I will finally have what is mine.” She brushes the tips of her lips against your neck, a soft whine vibrates on your throat as she gently pecks the available skin while her other hand trails down your arm before grasping your wrist and bringing it to her lips. 

“I’ve asked you this before, when you were nothing but an innocent child praying for companionship, for warmth…” She looks down at you, “Will you pledge yourself to me, my sweet rose?” She kisses the pulse that beats in your wrist.

“I may not give you warmth and nor can I love, but as I’ve said before…I possess you like that of a spouse.” 

A ghost of a smile graces her beautiful but eroding features. 

“For weeks, you have refused me. Now look at you,” She coos, “Tell me, do you refuse me, still?”

“No,” You concede, and oh–what a relaxing feeling as the creature graces you with a smile full of teeth. You feel elated, free from the heavy loom of shame and guilt, you surge forward, lips meeting hers for a searing kiss; it is full of need. You swallow the vampire’s moans as she tilts her head to deepen the kiss, consummating your pledge. 

You pull back for air as Ada’s once poised features become feral as her eyes darkened and yanks your collar, exposing your neck for her. 

“By this pact,” She snarls softly, “You… are mine. Forever.” 

She then sinks her fangs into your neck, you let out a pained yell but Ada muffles it with her free hand. Your knees buckle and you lose balance, but your nocturnal spouse catches you effortlessly and holds you as she drinks you, a loud growl emanates from her throat–sending vibrations throughout your body as blood oozes, staining your sleepwear. You claw her back as she digs her fangs deeper into your flesh. Your eyes roll back as venom enters your bloodstream, pleasure blooming from within while you arch your back. 

The creature purrs before pulling back. Blood drips down her chin, most of it coats her lips like a morbid lipstick. She holds eye contact while her tongue licks her upper lips. Shakily, your hand reaches up to her lips, and Ada kisses your fingertips before grasping your wrist and inhaling your delectable scent. 

Another growl. 

Your eyelids grow heavy as your eyes trail down her neck just to see your necklace. 

Ada leans down and presses her face against your chest, inhaling your scent.

A gust of wind harshly kisses your skin as she takes you back to your bedroom and places you on the sheets.

She looks around, your eyes follow her as the older woman looks at your mirror before it fractures while the wind knocks the windows open–her coat dances with the wind before it distorts into huge black wings; it wraps around her body like a demented cape as she slowly stalks towards you, her appearance distorts once again–man, woman, man, then woman before settling into a man again as the coat slips off to reveal him bare.

Your eyes shamelessly rake his body as he climbs to your bed and looms above you. His physique is perfectly carved like that of a greek god if you are to discard his crimson eyes and sharp teeth as he sinks it into your chest. You throw your head back as blood oozes from the new wound down to your sheets. 

You whimper as the creature returns to his female counterpart, her slender, well-manicured hands caress your clothes, her touch dissipates the cloth, leaving you bare–just like her. Your flutters due to exposure, nipples perked up as the air grazes softly against them. Ada hums in approval as her eyes glaze with appreciation.  

She maintains eye contact as she laps the blood off your chest, eyes flashing dangerously promising pain and pleasure as she leans down to your ear. 

“Has anyone taken you like this before?”

You gulp as pain shoots through your body only for it to be soothe by pleasure. “N-no,” You groan as she guides your left thigh around her lean waist.

The short-haired woman grins, “Good.” She purrs and gently squeezes your thigh. 

“Because no one can please you as I will.” 

And indeed, she does. 

Being pleasured by the creature is nothing short of unholy.

Ada fucks you in both male and female counterparts, leaving you whimpering in bliss.

The necklace dangles and swings as he drives himself deeper into you, a deep snarl echoes in the room, shooting down to your pussy as he grinds his cock against your seeping cunt.

The light shows the sinews of his muscles as he takes you harshly, his strong arms wrapped around your delicate form as sweat drips from his muscled stomach down to your skin. Ada–Adam, pulls his head back and attacks your neck with kisses that morph into arduous bites.

You close your eyes and drop your head onto the pillows while your hips jut shamelessly against his.

The older man sinks his fangs into your shoulder as your mixed arousals drip to the sheets.

He lets you meet his hips with a guttural groan before holding your hips down, grabbing your thighs before lifting them up at a certain angle before he moves his hips. You claw the creature’s toned back, lips uncontrollably spilling cries of pleasure while the sound of skin slapping against skin harmonizes with the creaking bed. 

His nails grip the sheets, tearing the fabric while his pace fastens, hips slamming deep, the bulbous head kisses your cervix–your eyes roll back whilst a silent scream breaks past your lips. He chuckles darkly, “Look at you,” Adam lifts your hips and grinds his hips, “Pliant and vulnerable.” 

He stops his movements; you whine at the loss before he kisses the pillar of your neck before going behind your ear. “I want you to mount me.” 

Say less

He removes himself from you, you nearly sob at the loss while he crawls to the headboard and rests his back against it.

Sweat dampens his skin, his black hair sticks against his forehead, the moonlight kisses his body covered in a thin sheen of sweat as he taps his thighs, you eye his rigid cock; standing tall and proud. With a puff, you align your sopping cunt, the latter grunts as you slowly sink down.

Adam growls as his hands grab onto your waist before thrusting his hips up, not bothering to wait for you. 

You throw your head back in bliss while your hands grab onto his broad shoulders, nails digging against his skin. The older man flushes you against him as he thrusts his hips, face contorting to Ada, lips curling into a predatory smirk when your lips let out streams of moans. 

“Fuck,” You mewl as your hips meet his thrusts, jaw dropping into an ‘O’ shape as you release a particular squeal that as Adam groaning and gropes your ass before spanking it roughly, eliciting a whimper from you as you drop your head onto his shoulder, inhaling his scent.

His lips attach to your neck, his fangs grazing your skin before opting to kiss it instead. Your walls clenching and throbbing around him, you were so slick and wet that your juices dripped down to his thigh. 

“Good,” He moans, “Very good. Just like that.” Adam tightens his arms around your waist as he thrusts his hips upwards, fucking you hard and deep that your vision blurs as a strange pressure grows on your stomach, insides pulsing and tingling.

It was a strange yet blissful feeling. 

“Ada,” You mewl and press yourself harder against the male counterpart. “My stomach feels weird.” 

“Keep going,” He growls, pounding into you harder to the point that his thrusts are shallow–yet powerful.

Both bodies are covered in a thick sheen of sweat as beads of exertion perspire on your foreheads. The smell of sex permeates the air accompanied by obscene noises coming from you and the creature; the pressure grows strong inside you, losing all inhibition as you pull him for a searing kiss. It was all-consuming as he swallowed your moans.

His strong arms pulling you impossibly closer to his cold body as you come undone–white hot pleasure sporadically consumes your insides as his cock pushes deep, the tip kissing your cervix before he shoots his load.

His warm cum fills your walls as he stills his hips as he finally sinks his fangs again into your chest, drinking from you and adding into your euphoria as you’ve gone limp in his arms. 

He held you in place before you felt him morph into another form; a woman, though the appendage remains lodged in you. 

Ada looks at you with a smirk. “The night is still young, my sweet rose.” She cranes her neck to the side to see the moon is still up; the older woman moves her hips, stimulating you, your hips shake as a whimper flees from your lips–your arms wrap around the nocturnal individual as she chuckles.

“You can do more, my love.” She coaxes as she surges forward while you lay on your back.

“Embrace your nature,” Ada purrs as her short hair cages her resplendent countenance as she begins to plow her hips into you as she fucks you into the sheets. 

“You feel divine,” The older woman grunts, emphasizing it with a deep pound.

You can only claw at her back and moan as she holds your hips, lifting it to her desired angle before setting the pace while you writhe beneath her ministrations.

You cry out and wrap your arms around her shoulders as she hits a particular spot that makes you see stars. Your legs automatically wrap around her waist while her arms grip the sheets for leverage.

The sinews of her muscles flexing with her movements, red eyes watching in carnal delight as you writhe in bliss, your heels digging into her ass, forcing her to thrust deeper into you.

Your walls clench around her, and Ada’s hips stutters before pistoning her hips at a harsh pace as profanities befall your lips. 

Look at you, so exquisite. Hers.

The vampire bites down your neck again, blood staining the sheets before she pulls back and laps the wound. She combs her short hair back. Giving her a messy, slid-back look that makes her devastatingly attractive before she puts her hand back on your hips, keeping you still as she bullies your pussy with her cock. 

There goes that feeling again, and Ada pecks your shoulder, leaving a bloody print of her lips. 

A whimper leaves your lips as you cum so hard–it’s blinding. Ada snarls and tears the fabric as she slams her hips deep and finishes after you. Your velvet walls throb as her essence mixes with yours; a warm concoction as she rubs her hips and you’re too blissed-out to react. 

You don’t know how long you two were going at it. 

You’re not even sure how you managed to stay alive with Ada drinking your blood at each release. You were too busy indulging the older woman’s appetite as she fucks and breeds you relentlessly. 

“On your stomach,” Ada commands. You obey; pressing your bloody chest against the crimson-stained sheets. 

“Hips up,” She purrs. You obeyed, allowing her to see your swollen cunt dripping with your mixed juices. “Good girl,” The older woman purrs before slapping your folds, making you cry out as more of your essence drips down.

The former uses your cum to coat her cock before looming above you, her hands caging you on opposite sides before her left hand moves to your neck, applying pressure–you gasp and jut your hips against her appendage.

The necklace presses against yours with a cold sting. 

Ada’s nails dig against your neck, a hiss befalls your lips in both pleasure and pain as she thrusts her entire length. The head easily parts your folds as she glides into you in one swift motion, impaling you with her cock.

The sheer girth of her shaft spreads your cunt until your walls are stretched thin around her. Overstimulation shoots throughout your body, screaming in erotic delight while you claw the sheets and gasp for air. Winded by her thrust. The mixture of her cock and your mixed juices makes you feel full. Your walls flutter, pulsing as Ada sets a brutal pace. 

“Ada!” You cry out as her hand leaves your neck, her lips latch onto your shoulder. Her hips hit the curvature of your ass–you can feel her toned stomach flex and stiff at her pace as she moans your name. Holding you down by the shoulders as she jackhammers inside you. Your body feels hot in contrast to hers as you meet every roll of her hips.

Your head falls against the pillows, letting the older woman have her way with you as her fangs dig against the flesh where your neck and shoulders meet–you cry out. 

“You are mine,” She growls as soon as she retracts her fangs and grinds her hips rough. “Do you understand, pretty girl?”

Your pussy clamps vigorously, sweat dripping down your temple, moaning with abandon, your mixed juices now trailing down your thighs, body covered in both sweat and dried blood.

Ada’s patience runs thin as she slams her hips, “I asked you a question. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes,” 

She rewards you with desperate pounds; feral. Her hands grab any skin available for the taking.

You let out a loud moan as you felt her cock hit a certain spongy area, your back arches against her front.  A vile grin breaks into Ada’s lips as she repeatedly targets the spot, your arms and thighs quiver with every penetrative slam, woes of pleasure leaving your lips. 

Ada drops her head against your nape, her fangs pressed against your nape, refraining from sinking into your flesh as your walls flutter as you come undone, the older woman finishes after you as she stills her hips and shoots rope after rope before pulling out.

The sticky mix of your cum smeared everywhere–filthy, disgusting… yet a beautiful, filthy mess. 

You let out a frail moan as more of your cum leaks out of your abused cunt.

The creature delicately lays you on your back–the most gentle she has been so far.

Your blood coats her skin, her lips smudged with blood as she settles in-between your legs before pressing her lips against yours.

You return her kiss, with a shaky hand, you cup her cheek as she presses you against the pillows, her lips devouring yours. Her pointed canines gently cut the skin of your lips, but none of you minded as you taste the salty and metallic flavor of your blood, but to Ada–it’s sweet nectar.

You pull for air only for the creature to chase your lips with a soft grunt, your blood trickles down to your chin as you keep kissing her until your lungs burned for oxygen. 

You open your eyes–finally taking in your surroundings… Was your room always this bright?

As the first light of dawn kissed the room, you froze, watching in horror as cracks began to form along Ada’s face. Her pale skin, once smooth and unyielding, now splintered like fragile porcelain.

“No, please…” you whispered, reaching out to her instinctively.

Ada turned to you, her crimson eyes softening, betraying the faintest glimmer of emotion. “Do not mourn me yet,” she murmured, her voice low but steady. “I am not so easily undone.”

Desperation clawed at your chest as you tightened the blanket around both of you, shielding her from the sunlight seeping through the window. Her arms encircled you, colder than ever before, yet somehow comforting.

“Ada,” you pleaded, your voice breaking. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t,” she replied, her lips curling into a faint, almost wistful smile. “But there is a price, my sweet rose. There always is.”

As she spoke, a sharp pain erupted in your chest. You gasped, clutching at your heart as a cold fire spread through your veins. Ada held you close, her grip both tender and unyielding, as the venom coursing through your blood consumed you.

“It’s already begun,” she said, almost reverently. “Your heartbeat will slow. Your warmth will fade. And when it is over, you will be as I am.”

You shuddered, torn between terror and exhilaration. “What will I become?”

“My equal,” she whispered, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Bound to me for eternity. You will no longer crave the comfort of the sun, but you will have me.” Her lips hovered above yours. “Always.”

The sunlight grew brighter, and you felt your strength waning, but Ada’s presence anchored you. The cracks on her skin stopped spreading, though they remained etched into her features like scars of battle.

“Do you accept this fate?” she asked, her tone soft but commanding.

You hesitated, the weight of her question pressing down on you. But as her eyes bore into yours, you knew there was no turning back.

“Yes,” you breathed.

With a predatory smile, Ada leaned in, her fangs glinting in the light as she whispered against your skin, “Then we begin again.”

She sank her teeth into your neck, and this time, there was no fear, no shame—only a profound, unrelenting connection. As the venom claimed you fully, your vision blurred, the room dissolving into a haze of darkness and light.

When you awoke, the sunlight no longer burned. You stood, unsteady but alive, your senses heightened. The air tasted of earth, leather, and smoke, but now it was intoxicating.

Ada stood beside you, her cracks fading, her smile triumphant. She took your hand, her touch no longer cold but perfectly attuned to yours.

“You are mine,” she said, a hint of pride in her voice.

“And you are mine,” you replied, your voice steady.

Together, you turned toward the window, the dawn no longer a threat but a new beginning.

Fin.

[frmulcahy]

Listening to an episode of the @antiquesfreaks podcast where they cover the costuming in The Terror and here are some amazing moments:

"But Ken, are you the only one of us that put themselves through reading the book?" "I did. Because John Bridgens was trapped inside and I had to get him out and if I read the book good enough, perhaps I could save him"

"If you don't tell these men what to wear, they're gonna look like straight up hoochies."

"As we see in the later episodes of The Terror and discipline does break down and Dundy just starts showing up to command meetings with his suspenders out! Slattern that he is!!!

"Victorian Navy: one to one analog to working at present day Target."

"I heard they flog you at Target."

"I was press ganged into working at Target."

"It's Victorian times. Everyone's wicked fucking repressed and they're about to get wicked un-repressed whether they like it or not, and they're going to show that through their clothing."

"a blur of muttonchops"

"I pre-gamed the show for 5 years with gifsets on tumblr to makes sure I would be able to tell at least the major speaking roles apart, and I still could not tell Little and Jopson apart until I figured out they had different eye colors."

"And now I'm Pilkington SpottingTM as a hobby"

calling JFJ a "fashionable boy" with his "nippies out" because he doesn't button up his coat all the way like Franklin and Crozier

The two regular hosts repeatedly comparing themselves to a delinquent class that their guest is stuck substitute teaching

"I think my character would be hitting a fat doobie right about now"

Discussing Jared Harris being obsessed with his own costuming details like all the mending on Crozier's clothes

Jopson's first appearance - "he's normal and they're normal and everyone's having a normal time here on this completely routine expedition." "It's so normal. Do you ever fall in love with your boss???" "It couldn't have been more erotic if they had just had gay sex."

Stanley and McDonald's button grouping on their uniforms to denote rank

THEY TALK ABOUT THE ICONIC JFJ GANSEEEYYY

Also Irving's Sanquhar scarf :')

"the red sweater of tenderness" sobbing screaming throwing up

"I think The Terror would have been improved if all of the marines had Boston accents for no reason"

Also marines vs normal sailors

comparing sailor's clothes to fast fashion because it's not very tailored lmaooo

The canvas overcoats being period inaccurate but still neat because they're referencing later polar expeditions like what we see on the guys in the Shackleton expedition etc

They talk about irl Goodsir's letter about clothes and the many many shirts!

Nive having to wear a cooling vest under her costume since it was real caribou fur and her coat being patched with sail cloth later.

They go into Yup'ik masks which is super cool! As well as have a conversation about the ethics of visuals/information/knowledge about indigenous artwork being shared with folks outside of those communities.

Repeated! Dan! Simmons! Roasting! As! They! Should!!!!!

Reapted! Nive! Nielsen! Praising! As! They! Should!!!!!!!!

Sophia's "oceanic color theme"

"They let the dresses have colors. The dresses have colors. The dresses have bright beautiful colors, and it's great."

"They had invented aniline dyes and they were about to make it everybody's problem!"

Lady Jane in more solids vs Sophia in more patterns

"'A woman could never possibly understand polar exploration' meanwhil Silna's up there doing it better than all of them."

Clowning on how other period pieces never use bonnets and always fuck up in the hair and makeup department

"I found Harry Goodsir's fursuit btw"

"On a scale of Calypso's Birthday to Fitzjames's Carnivale, how's your impromptu nautical drag ball going?"

"It's actually exactly like The Purge." "It's like a little Victorian maritime Purge."

"As far as metaphor and literary analysis and whatever, scurvy understood the fucking assignment."

"I punched in Scorbutic Nostalgia so that I could remember to read about it later." "I have some literature for you if you want." "Yeah fantastic! I love disease"

"CGI bear expensive"

"This episode comes with a heavy caveat of 'go to Terror Camp'" amazing.

THE DRESSTM

Tozer's Hotspur costume and Dundy's Henry VI costume and their relevance

"This is the last we see of Party!Dundy"

(About Little) "Every day he gets emails :("

Bridgler and Apollo/Hyacinthus stuff fuuuuuccckk

"Hodgepodge, my boy"

"Oompa loompa doompity dacticals, don't indulge your morals over your practicals"

"Rip Hickey you would've loved Joker"

Not a silly quote but just a really fantastic one: "That is what the best historical designers do, is they find these nuggets of information that allow them to tell a story with authenticity, both in a way that is historical but authentic to the characters as well." EXAAAACCCTTTLLLYYYYYY

"Whomst among us has not Joplarped to get through the workday?"

[princesstarfire1234]

TLDR: I fucking despise ship art and fanfics that infantilize Orion Pax / Optimus Prime

Okay so I just wanna put my thoughts out here right now because I've not seen many people talk about it and it honestly bothers me a lot...

So, it's no secret that I ship MegOp and stuff right? I like and have reblogged a bunch of art of them before and I will keep doing so, but something about how this place (or more certain parts of the fandom) portray the ship gives me major icks and I fucking hate it so much

Detailed thoughts under cut ⬇️⬇️⬇️

Case in point, a massive part of the TFP fanbase likes to ship Orion and Megatronus and I get that, I get why people like shipping those two but it's the WAY they do it. A lot, not all, but most of the fanart surrounding Orion Pax and Megatronus is him being like the smaller and more submissive one of the relationship which fine, whatever, but most people just end up drawing him REALLY small like ik he's shorter than Megs who was a gladiator and all that and he was an archivist but jesus christ... Aside the size which is weird and all but it's really all about the rampant infantilization of the guy. When they remove all agency from the character and act like Orion is gonna fucking combust the moment someone confronts him or tries to fight him like no... I've not read Exodus but I don't think Orion being a nerdy book guy is gonna make him THAT soft, this is still the same mech who became PRIME like cmon

I don't know the exact words for it other than "infantilization" but like y'know what I mean right?? I'm not gonna name blogs but there's this one AU on here where Orion is blind and it has this cutesy artstyle which is fine but I vividly remember reading a comic on that AU where some thugs confront Orion and he's all like sobbing and shit and has to be saved by someone and it's... so you made him disabled and also a crybaby and absolutely incapable of anything??? Does that NOT give you an ick of sorts or seem weird??? God I don't even know anymore because I've seen many people seem to like that so I'm just scared I'm the weird one and wrong for this lmfao... Maybe there's smthn im not getting, you tell me

Anyways this post is getting real long, but this kind of "infantilization" also applies to certain fanarts of TFA MegOp, I always thought the ship was bordering on kind of strange (since TFA Optimus is like the equivalent of some 20-something college dropout and Megatron is implied to have been doing the war stuff way way way back like Ratchet's time) but I won't get into that, I just don't ship that certain brand of the characters myself, but it's fine, do what you want with it. Just know that I have seen art of those two where they treat TFA Optimus as this sort of incapable cutesy uwu boy (aaaghh)

So yeah.... hahahaha stop infantilizing characters and taking a ship where they're both grown ass big men and like straight up turning the other one into some weird ass incapable version of the character that lacks any and all agency and honestly bordering on being really icky as fuck, thank you, idc if you make Optimus the bottom or whatever, that's not what I mean, cya ✌️

[icarusflewsworld]

Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the prologue of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

I hope you like it! Don't hesitate to let me know if you prefer the OC to become y/n and/or gender neutral.

Also, I apologize for any mistakes you might find, I'm just a French girl doing her best with Google Translate and her average score of 5 in English classe.

Happy reading!

Summary : We are just after Feyre became Fae and was able to get out from under the mountain. She tries to forget what happened by trying to live happily with Tamlin. Their wedding is also in preparation. Tamlin's spies let him know that Hybern possessed the cauldron and wanted to destroy the wall and that Rhysand was looking for the Book of Breathings to nullify the Cauldron's power. When Feyre learned it, she asked Tamlin and Rhysand to form an alliance. Then, they all find themselves heading to the Archerons' manor to organize a meeting with the human queens.

But Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel would never have thought to meet their mate in Archerons' manor and to share her with their brothers.

Luxiana is Feyre's best friend. She taught her everything, including how to hunt and survive. Luxiana has a complicated past. She seems fragile at first glance but is in fact extremely badass. She live in the Archerons' home.

Number of words : 1 345

Prologue

Luxiana would have done anything for Feyre. She reminded her of what she was like as a child. How fragile she'd been and how much she'd needed help. Someone had helped Luxiana and saved her, but no one had been there for Feyre. So Luxiana had taken on that role. Feyre was only nine and Luxiana was thirteen, but they had become best friends. 

Feyre thought of Luxiana as her big sister, as the one Nesta doesn’t want to be, as the one Elain should be. Luxiana had taught Feyre everything. She had taught her to hunt, to cook, to fish, to make money, to save, to hold on. She'd taught her absolutely everything, without ever asking for anything in return. Sometimes, causing herself troubles, she even gave Feyre all her money so that she and her family could live a little longer. If Feyre had achieved everything she had done, it was thanks to her best friend. 

She knew that Luxiana would do anything for her. In fact, she had crossed the wall to rescue her after Tamlin had kidnapped her. When Luxiana had arrived at the high lord's house, she had expected to find her best friend tortured and bloodied, but Feyre had never looked so alive. She assured Luxiana that she had to pay her debt for killing a fae and that she needed to stay with Tamlin. She had even sworn that she wasn't unhappy. So Luxiana believed her and left her there. She regretted it at the moment Feyre returned home, saddened by the fact that Tamlin had sent her away. 

Feyre loved this high lord, or so she thought. When Feyre had left to find him, she had made Luxiana promise not to come looking for her and to live happily ever after. 

Feyre had thanked her for all the things she had taught her and all she had done for her. For the coins Luxiana gave her to please herself and her sisters. For the hours she'd wasted trying to teach a ten-year-old girl to hunt and butcher beasts. For the bow and arrows she'd given her, including the one she'd used to kill the wolf fae. Without Luxiana, Feyre would never have met Tamlin.

Luxiana had cried a lot. She had accompanied Feyre to the wall that day but hadn't stopped sobbing all the way. Not only because she knew she'd probably never see Feyre again, but also out of guilt. Because without Luxiana, Feyre would never have met Tamlin. Without what she'd learned from her, she wouldn't want to leave her family for a fae and a world full of danger. Luxiana had cried because she knew she would no longer be able to protect the one she considered as her little sister. 

“I'll take care of your family for you,” Luxiana had promised as she gave Feyre one last hug, knowing fullyl well that this was the only thing her best friend was worried about.

Feyre had laughed, relieved. She couldn't ask this of anyone, not like her mother had, and especially not of a girl who had already sacrificed so much for her, but she knew that Luxiana would take care of her sisters for her, no matter what she said.

Feyre had thanked Luxiana and then she had crossed the wall towards a high lord and a life she knew nothing about. 

Luxiana had stayed, waiting in the bitter winter cold. Fighting vehemently against the irrational urge to grab Feyre by the scruff of the neck and lock her away somewhere safe. She was even ready to go and live with her, to make sure she was happy. 

But in the end, she had turned back, reassuring herself as best she could with the idea that Tamlin, the high lord, would take care of her just as he seemed to have done during those few weeks and just as he had done with Feyre’s family. She hated this fae because he had stolen her best friend, but she liked him for the caring man he seemed to be with her. 

Luxiana also hated Elain and Nesta. She hated them for all the things they should have done for Feyre and their family but chose not to. Luxiana understood that everyone reacted differently to their own unfortunate experiences, but she couldn't help feeling irritated by the two older sisters. But when Feyre left, she began to spend more time with them. She began to understand them. She needed to know them and to be close to them to protect them if needed. 

The Archeron sisters had even offered Luxiana the chance to move into the family home, given the constant presence of their sister's best friend nearby. So, against all odds, Nesta, Elain and Luxiana ended up becoming friends, living in the same house. 

But no friendship could replace the void Feyre's absence had created in Luxiana's heart. Not even Josher, her best friend. And the increasingly difficult missions Kaden entrusted her with didn't keep her busy long enough to keep her sadness at bay, only replacing it with exhaustion. 

After all the horrible things that happened to Luxiana, she finally had found a family in Josher, Kaden and Feyre. She could see herself finishing the rest of her life with them by her side. So when Feyre left, it was as if a part of her heart had been ripped out. The hardest thing was not knowing what had become of her best friend. If she was happy and healthy. 

But Feyre hadn't been. Feyre had been trapped under the mountain for three months and had even died there. She had suffered and almost regretted not bringing her best friend with her and forbidding her to come. She was convinced that Luxiana would have got her out of there with a few genius ideas, and the only thing that kept Feyre from fully regretting that decision was the knowledge that Luxiana was safe and happy away from everything she was going through. 

Fortunately, Feyre had received help from certain people, including Rhysand, the high lord of the night court. She hated him, but Rhysand had saved her life against Amarantha. Feyre knew he'd only done it because it was in his interest to kill Amarantha, but he'd nursed her back to health and helped her through her trials. Feyre lived in constant fear that Rhysant would come to claim his due. 

“A favor.” He had asked her in exchange for his help. “One day I'll come and ask you to do something and you'll have to do it without question.” Feyre was dying, so she'd agreed. 

Rhysand, for his part, had only asked for this because he didn't want anything from Feyre. He simply wanted her to think he was helping her in exchange for something, not because he knew Feyre could put an end to Amarantha's curse and, consequently, to his nightmare. He certainly didn't want to show his weaknesses or entrust his hopes to the wrong people, least of all to the girlfriend of his sworn enemy: Tamlin. 

That said, and Rhysand didn't know why, Feyre looked familiar to him. As if he'd seen her in a dream. He felt an irritating need to protect the human as if she were someone who meant a lot to someone he cared about. As if Feyre were some kind of sister or best friend. 

But Feyre was Luxiana's best friend. She missed her sisters, but she missed Luxiana the most. So when Tamlin learned that Hybern was planning to destroy the wall to attack the humans, and when Feyre found out, she wanted to defend her family and her best friend more than anything. 

Feyre had asked Tamlin and Rysand to put their grudges aside to save the humans. To become allies in battle. Having the same common enemy, they agreed. Rhysand needed Feyre and a place to contact the human queens, and Tamlin wanted to please Feyre.  

So Tamlin, Feyre, Lucien, Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel went to the Archerons with moderate animosity.

[rottingworship]

Beg and Bargain

The Proxies x Fem!Reader | Chapter One

A/N: QUICK NOTE! MY BLOG IS 18+! This is just a silly idea I had, and after reading some fics here and on ao3, I wanted to post it! So, as stated this is a silly idea. While I'm writing this very seriously, it started out silly in my head. I don't know how to explain it. Also, this is my first ever creepypasta AND marble hornets fic. SO, please go easy on me. I used to be the biggest fan of both, but never wrote fics for either as I was like... 15.

Warnings: blood, reader has... a power(?), eventual smut, sorta kidnapping, the operator gets your ass, semi-brief mentions of vomit (nothing too in detail!), reader wishing for death, mentions of murder, not really proofread, me taking my own artistic liberties...

word count: 2.7k

The woods are ever expanding. You feel like you’ve been running forever. Barefoot and barely breathing. You reach a field and run towards the middle of it. Every inch of you aches and your lungs burn. Your head begins to pound. You freeze when the moonlight hits some tall silhouette standing what feels like miles away.

It’s faceless.

You want to puke. You look behind you, wondering if you could book it back out of the woods. You already saved yourself once, you do not want to need to do it again. You know you can not do it again.

As you turn to look over your shoulder you see one of the men who were chasing you earlier. A hatchet in his hand. You look to both sides of you and see a man in a mask on each side. You drop to your knees, and let out a loud scream. Maybe someone will hear you? You doubt it. Your hands go to your head and a loud whimper escapes you.

“Please,” You cry quietly. You know that thing can hear you though. “I wanna go home.”

“N–No can do.” A voice comes from behind you.

The men are closing in on you.

“You killed our target!” The masked man on your right growls out loudly.

Your eyes widen. “There is no blood on my hands!” You cry, folding into yourself. A sob racks your body.

Your brain starts to feel fuzzy. Your nails dig into your scalp and a scream rips from your throat.

Join me.

What you can only assume is the silhouette across the field is in your head. You shake violently. “No!” You scream aloud, your voice ripping through the cold, night air. You have a feeling you don’t have a choice though. You killed the target. The voice reverberates through your head. “Please!” You hope maybe one of the men will save you. Your eyes are on the dirt in front of you. A static sound is stuck in your mind.

Your hands move from your head and to the dead grass below you. You dig into the dry soil and scream again. “Stop!” You shake your head again, trying to make the noise come to an end. “Make it stop!”

There is no choice to be made. The voice booms. You yelp. You look back at the man with the hatchet and begin to plead. “Kill me…” You whisper to him. “Kill me!” You scream this time. Hoping and praying he complies. His hand twitches, and for a moment, you are sure he is listening. He stops though. He stiffens and straightens up.

“It won’t work on us.” The man on your left sounds so matter of fact. “The Operator makes sure of it.”

The Operator… That must be the thing across the field. Your eyes shoot up to him and you think about bargaining. “I won’t tell anyone about this!” You grovel. “I’ll go home and go to bed, and then wake up tomorrow like nothing happened!”

You are useful.

His only response. The sick feeling is getting worse. “Okay!” You shout at him. “Please, I’ll do it! Just… Stop! Make it stop!” You muster up all the power you can in that last sentence. Another scream rips from your throat, one sending chills down the spines of the men around you.

Most excellent.

The static grows louder momentarily, and your hands move back to your head. Your spine snaps back, your back arching and one last scream pulling from your lungs. Once the static stops, you lurch forward, vomit, and fall to your side. Your head is still pounding, and you shut your eyes. You are out almost immediately.

_-_-_-_

You wake up to rummaging around you. You do not open your eyes immediately. Your head is spinning, and you are sure any source of light will cause you pain. So, you lie there. As you begin to fully wake up, you remember everything that happened. You are most likely not in your own home.

Your eyes squint open and the movement around you gets closer. Eyes are staring back at you. His mouth is covered. You gasp and move back, a sick feeling settling in your stomach again. You are going to puke. You sit up fast, making the nausea worse. You look around the room and spot a trash can in what seems to be the kitchen. You stand up, cover your mouth, and sprint towards it. As soon as you reach it, you drop to your knees and begin to dry heave. There is nothing on your stomach.

Your eyes shut tightly and you whine. You rest your head on the side of the trash can.

“Co–come on!” A voice comes from behind you. “I’m n–not ugly!” He's frustrated.

You peek over your shoulder and realize the man is standing right behind you. “Don't look at me!” You hiss. Swatting him away to no avail, you lean back over the trash can let out another, softer whine.

“Dude!” Another man walks into the room. “Were you waiting for her to wake up, Toby?”

“Sh-shut up, Brian!”

You stand up from the trash can when you realize you aren't going to be sick, and you turn around. The look on who you only assume is Brian’s face is shocked none the less. He quickly gives you a soft smile, acting as if he did not just make a horrified expression at you. You pout at him. Your hand goes not your stomach, and you want to cry.

Then you catch it. A glimpse of your hand. It is dirty and blood is caked under your nails. Your blood. You settle in the fact you are just going to feel sick from now on. While looking down at your hands, you notice your feet are bandaged. You hear chattering in front of you but you're too focused on yourself to realize what's being said.

“Who fixed up my feet?”

“Tim.” Toby and Brian say in unison.

“I wasn't about to to–touch feet. And yours were b–bloody!” Toby announces it so matter of fact.

Tim seems to have made his way into the room, or you hope he's Tim and there are no other men hanging around. “You make it sound like you don't deal with blood regularly.”

Toby scowls. “It–it’s different!”

Tim rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He looks at you. Saying your name. Your stomach flips. You never had said your name. “Looks like you're part of the team now–”

“The team!?” Your voice is hoarse from screaming the night before. Your mind is boggled. “I was just fucking chased down… by you three I think–” you try to shout, “–had some... thing speak into my mind, and now– Now I'm part of some fucking team?” You want to explode.

“Well, yuh–yeah.” Toby says it so matter of fact. Your fists ball. They all notice. “You accepted this.”

You can easily fly off the handle. Maybe it is best you do… You rush Toby, ready to throttle him. You do not even get to touch him. You are intercepted immediately, and your arms are restrained. You struggle against strong arms as they wrap around your biceps and torso, keeping you from reaching Toby. Your legs kick out and you are quickly maneuvered backwards. Your back hits the wall and you let out a frustrated cry. Your wrists are held at your sides and Brian is almost on top of you.

“We do not want to hurt you.”

“You tried to kill me last night.” You hiss at him, your voice low and venomous. His grip on you tightens and you try to move your wrists. You struggle fruitlessly. “Let me go.”

You watch Brian's eye glaze over momentarily. His grip loosens and suddenly your head gets tingly. Before you get out of his grasp he tightens back up “Stop.” His voice… Your legs buckle, eyes widening for just a second.

You let out a steady breath. Your eyes lock with his, he doesn't look away. Thank God for unknowing men. Your eyes darken, pupils blown wide. “Let. Me. Go.” His hands fall to his sides and his eyes glaze over again. Suddenly, you don't feel so well. You fall back against the wall with a groan, and you grab your head.

“Your nose–” Tim says as you realize it's bleeding. “What the fuck?”

You slide down the wall and cover your nose. Blood is steadily dripping. What the fuck is right. You look up at the three men in fear.

“Hey! Do not look at us th–that way!”

“What way?” You snap back.

“Like you didn't just mind control Brian!” Tim looks concerned to say the least.

You look up at Brian with fear filled eyes. Maybe he will kill you for that outburst. After a moment of pure silence, you stand up to rush to the bathroom. They let you go. You eventually find the bathroom and shut the door tight, locking it. When you look in the mirror you want to scream. You understand why Brian seemed startled when he saw you.

Your face is dirt covered and tear stained. Blood, that is most definitely not yours, is splattered against your clothes. Which leads you to remembering what happened before you were being hunted in the middle of the woods. You outwardly cringe, a chill running down your spine at the memories. You decide to rinse your face with water and as you stand there, you realize how sore you are. You have time to process how much pain you are in. You want to cry again.

You finish rinsing your face and walk from the bathroom. You make your way back to the living area and the three men stop talking. Their voices were hushed anyway, but you pinpoint the exact moment they shut up. You are ready to go ballistic. You hold it together.

“You–You’re really pretty without all th–that dirt on y–your face.”

“Toby.” Your tone is a warning. You shut your eyes and inhale sharply. You hear someone hit Toby and then he groans. He apologizes. “I have questions for you guys.”

“We have questions for you.” Brian shifts.

“Okay,” You don’t want to answer their questions at all, “how about: I ask a question, you answer, then you ask a question, and I answer. That way all questions are answered.” The three look at each other and then nod. “Okay, first question, what the fuck happened last night?”

“You killed our target.” Tim shrugs, as if it’s obvious.

“What does that mean?” You want to scream.

“Not your turn,” Brian shushes you. “How did you do that to me?”

“Your ‘operator’ didn’t tell you?” You scoff at them. When they all seem unamused, you sigh. “I don’t know, I just… I can control people. Always have been able to, since I can remember. I mean,” You pause, eyes looking off, gathering your thoughts, “Not all people. Like, babies and animals I cannot control. Their brains are different. But! Most people are controllable.”

“Is th–that what happened last night?”

You scowl at Toby. “Not your turn,” You mimic Brian’s earlier tone. “Where’s my phone?”

Toby pulls it from his pocket and shakes at you. Like it’s some enrichment for you. You narrow your eyes. “My tuh–turn.” You can tell he’s smirking; he sounds smug. “H–How did you kill our target?”

You really do not want to answer that. Your stomach begins to growl. The sick feeling has subsided for now, and you haven’t eaten in… a while. You are starving. You place your hands on your stomach and sigh. “Is there anything to eat?” They all look at you with confusion. “I’m not avoiding the question, but if I don’t get to eat… I will be avoiding the question.” You smile at the three of them. Brian groans. He motions for you to follow him, and you do so, willingly. No questions asked.

They all make note of that.

“Here is the kitchen. Feel free to look around.” Brian sighs. You nod. “Now, answer the question.”

You open the cabinet and find some cereal. “Okay,” as you pour a bowl you answer the previous question. “What happened last night–” you grab the milk out. As you pour it into the bowl, the scent hits you. It is spoiled. You gag.

“You gotta stop doing that–” Tim scrunches his face up. “The gagging–”

“Who the hell let this spoil!?” You look at the date and reel back. “Well, I’m no longer hungry.” You get rid of cereal and notice the men are on the edge of their seats. Waiting for your answer. “Anyway,” You nervously rub your hands on the outside of your thighs. You do not want to recount the night. “I just, I’m on vacation, last night was the beginning of it–”

“Where are y–you from?”

“Not your turn, but I’ll be nice–” You shoot a look at Toby. “Here. I’m on vacation from work. Not everyone has the luxury to leave and go somewhere amazing. But I am– I was going to make the most of it!” You are growing anxious. “My ex–” You close your eyes.

“He’s the one you killed?”

You immediately snap. “I haven’t killed a single goddamn person! As I’ve said before, there is no blood on my hands.” You growl out. They sense you’re on edge. “He came to town; he moved away a while back. Moved onto greener pastures, or whatever–” You roll your eyes, “–but he wanted to pay me a visit…” Your stomach is turning. You shut your eyes gathering your thoughts and grip the hem of your sweater. “He decided to, uh–” You cut to the chase. “He had a gun. He did not come to just visit me. And apparently,” You let out a nervous laugh, “pastures are not always greener when you move away.”

Toby, Tim, and Brian are all listening. Very well.

“My turn!” You try to shift your mood. “Can I have my phone back?” You place your hand out at Toby and bat your eyelashes at him. “Please.” You are staring at him through your lashes.

Toby laughs at you. “S-sexy, but no.”

Your face drops. You ignore the ‘sexy’ part. “Did you forget I can mind control people?”

“Did you forget your nose just exploded with blood?” Brian scoffs. “You are not mind controlling any of us without consequences.”

He’s right. You sigh. “Scratch that last question, when can I get my phone back?”

“When we can trust you.” Tim is blunt.

Your eyes darken. “Fine.” You cross your arms. “Whatever, I don’t need that anyway. But–” You pause. “I will need, like, I don’t know– My fucking essentials?” You want to shout again. “Like face wash, deodorant,” You pause, humming, “tampons. Oh yeah, and clothes.” Because they really have you fucked up if they think you aren’t getting those things.

The three look at each other and then back at you. Tim is the first to speak up. “I’ll take you to get some stuff.” They are not about to let you leave alone. “You said you live in this town, right?”

“Well,” You look around you and out of a window, “I couldn’t tell you where I was right now, so I don’t know.”

Toby huffs. “We’re in m–my cabin.”

Oh, how dare I not know that, you think to yourself. “That gives me nothing to go off of. But, if we’re still in the same town, yes, I'm from here.” You deadpan. “If you get me out of these woods, I’m sure I could show you where my apartment is.”

“Hold on,” Brian speaks up. “Tim, Toby, come here.” He motions for them to follow them out, and they all motion for you to stay put. Once again, you listen. And once again, they all note how obedient you are.

You hear them mumbling. You can’t make out what Brian is saying, but he’s the most concerned it would seem. You wait patiently for them to get back to you. You look around the kitchen and examine everything. The place doesn’t look too lived in. The table is… not very used but definitely looks older. The sink only has your dirty dish in it, nothing else. This may be Toby’s place, but he or his friends definitely are not here often.

“Come on,” Tim walks back over to you, “we’re gonna go to your place.”

Thank God, you sigh. You want to shower more than anything. Getting away from whatever the fuck is going on is a close second though.

“Wait a minute,” You look down at your bandaged feet. “I don’t have shoes.”

[amxrany]

!! CHAPTER 7 / DIASOMNIA ARC SPOILERS !!

Hey guys I'm awake and well now let's continue (Rook's Dream):

We find ourselves in Savanclaw where we find Savanaclaw Rook and I honestly love him here he looks like a dog I left outside in the rain by accident (affectionate)

Now everone's confused as to why Rook's in Savanaclaw, but then Rook drops the bomb that Vil is in RSA and everyone's like "WHAT?!"

Stop Rook is literally just being the biggest neigevil oshi cuz he just wants Vil and Neige to be besties 😭. He's so open about it too like he's literally geeking about their interviews together to the point that he's squeezing Grim and Epel cuz he got too excited (he's so fr for that honestly). But then Sebek snaps and Rook apologizes because no one in Savanaclaw is a neigevil fan as well :((

But Ortho encourages Rook by wanting to visit his room so that they can learn about Neige and Vil. Grim questions the decision, but that's like the only way they can break Rook out of the dream, and now Rook's just murmuring to himself and how he will introduce them to Vil and Neige

Once they're near Rook's room he literally told them not to barge into his room and the gang did exactly what they're not supposed to do

AND OH MY GOD ROOK'S ROOM IS JUST????

(pov: you're in a neigevil oshi competition but your opponent is rook hunt)

SEBEK THOUGHT THIS WAS A RITUAL ROOM FOR A SECOND AND ROOK IS CURRENTLY LOSING IT 😭😭😭. Apparently Rook has been hiding his hyperfixation for THREE YEARS and he can't just let the group go...until they watch DVDs of neigevil interactions

This went on for five hours and Rook was gushing, sobbing and crying over it, Silver actually slept for the first time in the realm of dreams because of this 💀. Before the group leaves, Epel couldn't help but ask Rook if he still remembers what happened during VDC, an d Rook mentions that he remembers that Vil and Neige performed "Yahoo, Yahoo" together.

The group meets again with Idia, and they're discussing the events of Book 5, and how the entire incident during VDC might have been the root cause for Rook's dream to turn out like this. Because in this dream, Rook never transfers to Pomefiore because Vil was never in NRC to begin with. Rook was most likely haunted by that incident because he trusted Vil so much, that he'd rather have Vil and Neige be friends instead of rivals to prevent the whole overblot situation

SO NOW THE GANG IS THINKING OF A WAY TO WAKE UP ROOK BY PERFORMING ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL

(I REALLY WANT TO SEE THE WHOLE THING YA'LL TO WHOEVER HAS A LINK TO THE RHYTHMIC PLS SEND IT TO MEEEEEE)

But their positions are the following: Vil - Epel Jamil - Ortho Epel - Sebek Kalim - Yuu Ace - Grim Deuce - Silver

Basically Epel had to teach the others the entire choreography of Absolutely Beautiful and he said it's fine if they don't perfect it because in the original they weren't able to perfect it as well. But then everything suddenly goes blurry and we get dream Vil and dream Neige suddenly performing "Yahoo, Yahoo", and now Rook is back to being an oshi again.

But Epel wasn't having it, he points out to Rook that the real Vil looks more sinister and had a more sharper look to him and that he was more poisonous and beautiful. That's when Epel told Rook that he was a far worse traitor back when he voted for RSA if he tells the words that Vil wanted to hear to the fakes.

That wakes Rook up, he remembers everything now because he was wondering why he cried during their Absolutely Beautiful performance. Idia then gives Rook the "invite" to join them as well. Rook changes clothes and fights

Btw I just wanna show you guys his groovy here because it's that special to me

Idia was laughing because he now has a video of Sebek dancing and Sebek is just yelling at him that he won't forgive him if he showed it to anyone.

Surprisingly Rook mastered thew magical girl transformation faster than the gang, but they're learning. Rook also tags along with the gang to save the last person, Vil

AND WE'RE DONE WITH ROOK'S DREAM, JESUS CHRIST IT GOES FROM UNSERIOUS TO SERIOUS IT'S FUNNY. But I'm covering Vil's dream last, see you then!

Next: Vil's Dream Previous: Epel's Dream

[hide-your-bugs-away]

aaAAA GOSH!!! I'm sorry it took 500 years to respond to this, I HAD TO GATHER MY THOUGHTS!! 🥹 You have no idea how much this means to hear!! Especially because Alan has also had such a significant and profound impact on my own mental health. Every step of the journey to see him, I planned and saved for myself, including the likes of learning to drive, getting an independent job, applying for a passport, and saving the money. I've had really bad anxiety throughout my life, especially with regards to learning how to drive, so this trip spurring me on to finally tackle that fear is very important to me. 😭✨️ And that's to say nothing of what his music, his demeanor, his presentation and just... what the whole Alan has done for me, along with the other Animals! Providing me with so much inspiration for artwork and a whole new appreciation for the process of archiving, especially for the sake of cataloging those positive moments between a band that the popular consciousness thinks didn't get along. All of that, working in tandem, has given me such a great sense of purpose... I'll always have my own mental struggles and issues, but it's nice to have a special interest to turn to that lets you lose yourself in so many layers of complexity and comradery 🥹🐾✨️

All of that to say, hearing that Alan has helped you, in a similar manner, is incredibly meaningful to me, knowing just how much he's helped me during some incredibly difficult times... and the fact that my art was the catalyst for that?!?! wAHHHHHH GOSH - it's hearing things like that... it makes it all worth it, I swear (and I'm sure Alan can agree) 😭😭😭 THANK YOU AGAIN FOR SAYING ALL OF THIS!! 🙏🎹✨️

And just so you know... Alan performs every second Thursday month in Barnes 👀 I have a couple of friends that go and post about his concerts on a Facebook group all about Alan - I'd be happy to share those posts with you!!

The best day of my life, not gonna lie 🥹💙🎹✨️