#AND YET THE PARASITES COMPELL ME TO WRITE

[prettyflyshyguy]

Project Shadow AU - Background

Who want's to read. Cause I've been writing. A lot.

the AU is mostly slight modifications to the game, extended scenes, and a lot of "how'd this be different if Shadow was a bit weirder" alongside some character background modifications (Rouge and Knuckles my beloveds) - I've been having a lot of fun revisiting my original ideas from over 10 years ago, adjusting and tweaking them since I'm a different person (more bold) now and some ideas weren't quite fully baked when I was writing this story at 18.

If you've been following the AU from the start, or you're new here, welcome! This story means more to me then almost any other, and I genuinely think SA2 might be my favourite game of all time.

This is mostly a primer for the setup plot of the game, Shadow's backstory for the AU and some other critical info about the rest of the cast that's different from the game and the setup for the different storylines. Next I'll probably be yapping about what happens post-game because I really want to brain how how Shadow The Hedgehog, Sonic Heroes, Sonic Battle and Sonic 06 fit into the AU.

Big Post - you've been warned!

The Beginning

~50 years ago Gerald Robotnik headed Project Shadow, onboard an advanced scientific research platform orbiting earth - The Space Colony ARK. 

He was approached by GUN and the project would not have existed without military funding - notably originating from the branch of GUN operating as the United Federation’s military and defense force. It is unknown if the true purpose of Project Shadow was ever disclosed to the other international branches of GUN, and if the United Nations would have ever allowed it’s conception in the first place. 

Project Shadow was always a military endeavor. Gerald accepted the contract with the hopes and intent to develop breakthrough technology around gene therapy and medicine - wishing to cure his grandaughter Maria of her terminal illness - NIDS. Seeing the opportunity, he accepted the double edged sword of a military funded project, vowing that no matter what he was asked, or pressured, to do, Project Shadow would always be for the betterment of humanity. 

While gene splicing and biological engineering was the heart of the project, utilising the power of Chaos Emerald Energy was it’s secondary factor. After years of rocky development the project finally had multiple major breakthroughs which culminated in two significant outcomes: The Prototype, and The Ultimate Lifeform. The UL was a true miracle of science; unlike it’s prototype, it required no life-support system to function, and was far less volatile in nature. As the project was made in the shadow of humanity, Shadow was the name affectionately given to the creature. It showcased a remarkable ability to harness the power of Chaos Emeralds, incredible resistance to common diseases and ailments, and outstanding stamina and resistance in physical testing. It did struggle to control itself, and as such new technology was developed to assist it directly (notably the inhibitor rings, allowing for more fine-tuned control over Chaos Energy, and the air-shoes which provided a smoother experience during locomotion). Notably, the creature was highly cooperative, and displayed a high level of emotional intelligence. It was curious, compassionate, and an avid learner, often questioning the teams assigned to test it, and in many cases assisting them with their studies.

Shadow always knew of the circumstance of his creation, yet had no issue with it. Beloved by all, he embraced the people behind Project Shadow as his family, and pride swelled within him knowing that he represented a new age of flourishing medicinal technology - for the betterment of humanity.

His true potential as a weapon was widely known amongst the staff aboard the ARK, but an understanding was held that he must never know, not out of fear of what he might do, but to protect him and his autonomy from those who would want to use him. 

Very quickly he took a liking to Maria, and they bonded as siblings. Being the only two children on the ARK, they became inseparable companions. Maria would recount stories of her childhood on Earth, and how she was so excited for Shadow to travel all over the world with her once she was better. The thing’s she’d show him, oh how beautiful the planet was. Oh how marvelous humanity was.

As time went on and the project progressed, GUN became more and more concerned with the reports coming out of the ARK. The UL was allowed to roam? It was treated like a pet? No, like a human family member to the Robotniks? It had full autonomy over its actions? It was a constant threat and risk to the enormous sum of money pumped into the research station - and worst of all Gerald’s notes were more and more focused on the pharmaceutical outcomes, not the potential of the living weapon.

Knowing full well that Gerald had strayed from the contract a few steps too far, a decision was made to take back the project and course correct its trajectory, by any means necessary. 

GUN soldiers raided the ARK with simple instructions. Secure Gerald, secure all documentation of the project, lock down the prototype, and contain the UL. Nothing else mattered. By any means necessary. 

When the approaching shuttle failed to respond to all attempts to hail, Gerald knew the end had come. He had always known he was working on borrowed time. He tried his best to warn all staff, and to attempt an escape, but GUN worked harder. Jamming communications, sabotaging and locking down chunks of the station to barricade staff in and out, there wasn’t much he could do to prevent the slaughter. Fish in a barrel. There was little need for a security force when your lab was floating around in outer space. He turned himself in to by time for Maria and Shadow to escape together via the emergency escape pod system, but they weren’t fast enough.

As Gerald was being arrested, Maria pushed Shadow into a pod, the hatch sealing shut right as GUN soldiers cut through the locked bulkhead door. She was immediately shot upon the soldiers gaining access, but they could not stop her from launching the pod, sending Shadow hurtling down to Earth, Maria’s dying words echoing in his mind as he cried out.

“Shadow, I beg of you, please do it for me… For a better future for all the people on that planet… Give them a chance to be happy… Let them live for their dreams. Shadow, I know you can help them, that’s the reason why you were brought into this world. Sayonara… Shadow the hedgehog…”

He promised her, in that moment, as the pod rattled and the outside burned as it hurtled towards the Earth, that he would help humanity, despite the atrocity they had committed this day, he would fight for a better future. He would create a better future. He promised her. 

Shortly after safely landing, the pod was seized by GUN operatives and he was transported to the secure facility on Prison Island - a high security facility where Gerald was imprisoned and forced to continue the project under strict supervision. Upon learning of Maria’s death, something broke deep inside his heart, and he was never the same. GUN were fixated on controlling Shadow, forcing Gerald to pivot the project with a new focus being on creating a complicit living weapon capable of following instructions autonomously, but with an unwavering loyalty to whoever it served. Stricken with Grief and resentment, Gerald continued his work - however he still continued to serve his own ideals and intent. He worked on Shadow, more intrusively than ever before, and manipulated his memories, implanting ideas and shaping him into something far more sinister than he had ever initially intended. He would turn Shadow into the weapon they had always wanted, but they would never control him. During a trial-run to check Gerald’s progress, Shadow ignored all instructions from GUN operatives and instead violently attacked a number of staff before being restrained. Security footage from the incident noted that at no point did Gerald do, or say anything, other than stand at the back of the room smiling slightly. 

Upon realising how far things had come and how dangerous, unpredictable, and uncontrollable Shadow was, he was put into cryostasis and locked in a secure containment chamber deep within the bowels of the island.

Gerald was executed shortly after, his final words recorded for posterity and as a reminder of the danger Project Shadow held to all of humanity, and the threat that Gerald had ultimately become.

Fifty years later, his grandson Ivo Robotnik, more commonly known as ‘Dr Eggman’, would re-discover the project in an encoded top-secret GUN document. Intrigued by the information held within about ‘the ultimate weapon’, he set out to the holding facility on Prison Island, breaking in and fighting through the security drones left to guard the well kept secret years after the project had been shuttered, and the island was left as a high security storage bunker for miscellaneous GUN property. 

What Eggman discovered was far beyond his wildest expectations, and this time he knew he could defeat that pesky blue rodent once and for all.

Rouge, Knuckles, Tails and Amy

Rouge doesn’t work with GUN, she works for GUN. She’s an agent, employed for a while, perhaps she is an ex-international-jewel-thief and was recruited for her particular talents, but no one but her superiors know. Picked up years ago after a job went wrong, she was scouted for her unique talents and offered an ultimatum - which she begrudgingly accepted. She misses the freedom of being ‘self employed’ but the GUN payroll has its benefits and she’s got a pretty good deal going on. Shen specialises in unique case missions, and as such has a lot of sway with the superiors of her unit - she gets almost anything she wants and needs so long as she gets the job done. She has a history with Knuckles, they go back having met along time ago, before she became an Agent. She loves her jewels, but is a bit more respectful of the Chaos Emeralds and works with Knuckles to ensure there’s minimal incidents like from the events of SA1 should they fall into the wrong hands. 

Knuckles hangs out on Angel Island and just vibes. He’s doing his thing, he works with Sonic and the gang from time to time when duty calls. He’s reserved and generally distrusting of most folks, finds Sonic’s attitude to be reckless and generally too high-energy for him. He’d never admit it but he enjoy’s Rouge’s company when they do work together on the rare occasion when something happens relating to the Chaos Emeralds. The emeralds in question are somewhat scattered about, much to Knuckles’ disdain. If he had his way they’d all be on Angel Island alongside the Master Emerald - allowing him to maintain balance and security. But he’s just one Echidna in a big world full of people who think they know better, and those that don’t know the power of what they’re meddling with. 

In Project Shadow AU Knuckles and Rouge work together to retrieve the Master Emerald shards, all alongside Rouge operating as a double-agent. She poses herself to Eggman and Shadow as ‘a renown international jewel thief. 

“If you haven’t heard of me, GOOD. I pride myself on secrecy and security.” 

Knuckles on the other hand teams up with Sonic, Tails and Amy. He got wind of Sonic’s sudden ‘crime spree’ and knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Blue Blur had been framed. As Tails had come into possession of a Chaos Emerald only weeks prior, a gift from the city after helping thwart yet another of Eggman’s ludicrous stunts - Knuckles quickly got in contact with Tails and Amy - Tails now a wanted suspect given his close relationship with Sonic, he’d been branded as an accomplice and was wanted by the military - no thanks to his recent nation wide news appearance when he received the Chaos Emerald turning him into a public figure. Amy had luckily flown under the radar, a known friend of Sonic’s but not a big enough fish for GUN to worry about frying. The three hatched a plan, with Knuckles’ focus being on the Master Emerald, and Tails and Amy heading to Prison Island to bust Sonic out of the high security jail. They’d rendezvous after, and assess what the hell is going on, and who this creepy doppelganger is…

[literary-illuminati]

2024 Book Review #72 – Alien Clay by Adrian Tchaikovsky

Tchaikovsky is not exactly one of my favourite working authors, but at this point he’s probably quite close. Certainly I haven’t yet regretted giving anything new of his I could get my hands on a try – and this is no exception (even if it’s not really that new, given I waited for my library system to get a copy). It doesn’t completely succeed at everything it goes for, but privileging themes over speculative xeno-biology is really a pretty fair choice, and as narratives go it was both fun and compelling.

The story follows Anton Daghdev – dissident, academic, and dissident academic who, for crimes against the Mandate of Humanity, has been sentenced to transportation to an extrasolar penal colony and a lifetime of hard labour furthering the Mandate’s understanding of the alien ecosystem which has flourished there. It’s a life sentence, make no mistake – but the fecund, symbiosis-obsessed ecology of ‘Kiln’ is far beyond anything he imagined when he was put into cryosleep for the 30 year voyage , and that’s before he is introduced to the real prize: Ruins. Real, artificial structures, with ornamentation, power generation, and writing – all signs of an intelligent creator which has entirely vanished from the ecosystem. Anton is caught between a camp that is itself is a horror show, ruled throgh brutality and fear by a commandant who devotion to the Mandate’s doctrines makes any actual understanding of Kiln impossible, and the ever-growing ecosystem beyond the compound’s walls that is forever seeking the right combination of proteins and molecules to form a bridge between species and worlds, ten thousand species of parasites and symbiotes forever seeking promising new hosts.

The book is concerned with several things, but the most obvious and the aesthetically dominant is the whole trope of the ‘death world’ – specifically the verdant and overgrowing jungle variety, where everything is green and beautiful and constantly looking for a way to kill you. A trope that’s always been more-or-less obviously inspired by 19th century European explorers and colonizers experience in the Amazon and Congo, and 20th century Americans in South East Asia – and the book is very interested in the colonial imagery, here. Everyone’s utter horror at the idea of contamination by the environment and its use as threat and punishment to keep the labourers in line is a central organizing principle of camp life. The fact that that the efforts to understand the nature of kilnish life and intelligence has been futile from the word go because of doctrines and assumptions the human scientists are labouring under and their studies has only ever been destructive and useless stamp-collecting is also just a theme running through the whole book.

From a slightly different perspective, this would be a fairly classic sci fi horror story, honestly – a moral atrocity of a scientific mission, destroyed in a fit of destructive karma as its prisoner/slave labour is infected and comes to know the alien life surrounding them in a way no human science could ever hope to. Very gothic, very Lovecraft. The lead archaeologist even gives a more-or-less sympathetic protagonist to tell it through.

As it is, on the level of genre this is basically an anti-cosmic horror story. The alien really is Alien, the world is vast and strange and you can’t really know anyone or anything – which is the trap. It’s not the alien infection that drives you mad, it’s the isolation and solitude of having felt the connection and ability to truly communicate without lies or deception it offers and then losing it beneath airlocks and thick plastic walls. It’s only be true trust and embrace of the most shockingly alien life ever seen – let alone any other humans – that the species can actually be liberated.

It rather reminds me of Last Exit by Max Gladstone that way – basically entirely different genres, but in both manage to make the alien seem truly terrifying and uncanny, and in both cases it’s the obsession with remaining pure and human and trying a sharp border between Us and Them that’s the real source of horror.

The thematic counterpoint here is the Mandate. It’s a totalitarian state in a very old-school, 20th century modernist way. Government through police spies and regular purges, legitimized by a grand historical project which is mostly just keeping everything neat and legible for the benefit of the top of the pyramid. It’s not that there aren’t true believers to the cause of Scientific Philanthropy, but it really doesn’t need that many of them. It rules through self-interest and fear – the tiny impossible hope of actually changing anything, or the absolute certainty of being sold out and swept up by the time your conspiracy has enough people in it to actually change anything. The Mandate makes it impossible to trust or rely upon anyone else, and by atomizing humanity makes it possible to bind them more tightly to the ruling state than ever before. It’s only be really radical – inhuman, really – levels of trust and cooperation and openness among people trying to resist that it can be fought, with its snitches and its tear gas and its automatic weaponry.

So yes, not the most subtle book in the world. But it definitely worked for me, on balance. It’s surprisingly rare to have a protagonist whose a committed political revolutionary on page 1 and never stops being one in damn near any story I come across, so maybe I just enjoyed the rare treat.

Though it does suffer some in the third act. An opinion I increasingly think I have about everything, but still. Kilnish xenobiology and -ecology is for the first two acts o the book is both aesthetically amazing and actually plausibly alien-seeming, but as Anton really understands it does become a bit credulity-stretchingly benevolent and purely symbiotic (not to mention structurally stable and only changing in the particulars across aeons), a few offhand lines about ‘red in two and claw’ aside. The narration also really doth protest too much about how the connection between the Kiln-infected humans totally isn’t telepathy. It wasn’t really a long book (certainly not by genre standards) but the whole final act also did just feel a bit bloated and meandering.

All of which is really just me being incapable of enjoying something without complaining though. If you like old-school feeling sci fi about alien worlds, Big Themes and improbably physically fit scientists, would recommend.

[heylittleriotact]

🩸WIP Wednesday🩸

I was tagged by @xxnashiraxx and @preciouslittlebhaalbae and I come bearing VIOLENCE on this day.

I was writing this whole ass BG3 thing this one time and I've been taking a break and picking away at the parts I want to write the most, and this is part of one of them if anyone is amused by the idea of having an archfey shaped piece of chaos interjecting themselves into the Cazador fight.

“And get me the hell out of here!”  Echo was already calling magic to her, preparing to Misty Step across the stone dais - time was of the essence, that much was clear. The incantation was halfway past her lips when she halted, distracted by the sound of long claws scrabbling over polished stone.  Cazador was apparently just as surprised by this as she, because he turned at the sound and snarled at the werewolf that had just skidded around the corner and came into view at the top of the stairs.  “These intruders slaughtered your siblings in your absence!” He jabbed his staff towards where Echo and the others stood. “But you may make up for your failure yet: destroy them!”  The werewolf, smaller and lighter in colouring than the others, sniffed the air and rose on its haunches to better catch the scent of her prey. Her eyes glowed fiery orange, and her powerful muscles flexed as her primal glare locked on Echo, her claws gouging marks into the floor as if it were butter. A deep growl rumbled through her chest and through her jagged fangs and Echo felt real terror at the sound.  “Gale…” she muttered as quietly as she could to the wizard at her side, not daring to break eye contact with the wolf. “Please tell me you’ve still got something up your sleeve that’ll reduce that thing to a pile of ash?” “And then some.”  Echo grimaced at the sound of squealing stone under razor sharp claws: it was like the stone itself was screaming out in agony.  “What are you waiting for?!” Cazador screamed. “Kill them! I command it!”  The other wolves were feral in their bloodlust: they hadn’t hesitated for a moment before attacking. Why wasn’t this one? The werewolf gnashed her jaws, sending thick beads of slobber sailing through the air, and a horrific, wet tearing sound filled the chamber. Echo didn’t realize what it was at first or where it was coming from, but her stomach lurched when it dawned on her that the wolf was making that sickening noise.  It twisted and arced in place, grunting ferociously as stitches snapped with soggy pops, and flesh strained and ripped, sending clumps of light gray fur adrift in the tomblike air.  Echo watched on in horror as Cazador continued to bellow orders at the creature and it continued to undulate and squirm like a birthing Gnoll. She flinched back an entire pace when a bloody hand burst out of a torn seam and started pulling at the werewolf’s skin from the outside, freeing another hand moments later, and with a final tremendous tear, the skin tore completely and sagged down to the waist of the parasite inside of it.  It was a monster - gore-slicked and blood drenched, its long hair hanging in wet sticky ropes stained red; its face a stern mask of perfectly calibrated murder. Lightning sparked from its eyes, glistening over the slick muscles of its lithe arms.  This monster belonged on an ancient battlefield, slaughtering an efficient and brutal path to victory - completing whatever joyless and wrathful task was asked of it to keep its benefactor - its beloved - safe: the historically avowed champion of the Benevolent Spring Tiding, Lady Lillian, compelled by ruthless and violent purpose. It could be here for only one reason.

[buildarocketboys]

Crimson Peak notes @tumbleclub

So I took notes throughout my rewatch so under the cut is basically a live blog of my thoughts and feelings - spoilers for Crimson Peak throughout since I refer to what happens later in the movie from the start.

The main things I want to say about this movie though are 1. It's such a masterpiece of gothic horror. The aesthetic, the story, the characters, the relationships, the SYMBOLISM...all so on point that it almost feels TOO on the nose at times (except it doesn't because I love it. It's perfect, mwah). And 2. I love all the characters. They're all so compelling, they're all, in some ways, sympathetic (yes even Lucille...god forbid women do anything etc etc). I just love watching these fucked up (and less fucked up, shout-out to Alan, you the real MVP) relationships play out, it's so *chef kiss*

Anyway, here's my play by play thoughts. Warnings for incest, murder, horror and gore (although I don't actually talk about the gore much, it's a fairly gory movie when it comes to the murder/attempted murder and such though)

- 'a parasite with a title' go off Edith

- also she'd prefer to be Mary Shelley because she died a widow. She's so metal

- her relationship with her dad is so cute. Shame he dies

- Thomas coming in dressed in black from head to toe...

- also immediately clocking Edith and flirting with her...he knows what he's doing

- the red clay is fucking genius

- London... Edinburgh... Milan 👀

- her dad sees right through him from the start...we have to stan

- For being who are only trying to help Edith, they sure are scary

- LUCILLE!

- THE NOT QUITE LIP KISS

- He really is pushing all Edith's boundaries (and society's boundaries) from the very beginning huh

- "I don't want to close my eyes. I want to keep them open." is an interesting character quote for Edith

- Love Alan indulging her ghost obsession.. besties. But also him mentioning ghosts being minerals in the earth... very interesting..

- from my fiancée @judasisgayriot - "love that this is supposed to be a sunny day but the colour palette is so washed out and dull"

- Lucille ultimate goth queen. Feeding the butterfly to the ants... (Also just noticed that on the DVD cover a butterfly is sitting on Edith's hand...we love symbolism)

- "it's mine I want it back" about the ring. Because she took it from their mother when she killed her but also because SHE'S Thomas's wife

- Dad sees RIGHT through him

- "thoroughly break her heart" and then he comes for her writing. God. Yeah. Fuck him. But he clearly means it "perfection has no place in love" which makes it hurt all the more

- Love that the obvious way to kill him is to either use the razor or drown him in the sink, but no, Lucille fucking bashes his head in on the sink. Kind of badass ngl

- The thing about Edith is she really WANTS to be a protagonist in a ghost story, which is probably why she ignores alllll those red flags

- That said, I DO think she should have picked up on some of them, Jesus girl

- "you've been married a while" + one of the previous wife's dog as soon as they arrive...

- This house is a fucking wreck Thomas!! This would not pass health and safety regulations!! Girl run!

- He really has to stop himself from kissing Lucille. Then definitely smells her

- The bloody pipes... honestly you could be forgiven for thinking it's too on point. Not me though, I love it. The more obvious symbolism the better

- I love the fact that Thomas chose her BECAUSE he actually fell in love with her. Which Lucille CAN'T know (and TBF idk if Thomas even knows himself completely yet. He's playing a role but also he's not)

- GREEN GDT BATHROOM!! One of the jankiest ones, but it's still (crimson) peak!

- I love the bloody mist effect on the ghosts, like they're still bleeding but they're in gaseous form now so so is their blood

- Lucille creeping through the keyhole...

- Edith's fantasy of their childhood vs their Flowers in the Attic reality

- "I don't want her to miss a single thing we do" STAN LUCILLE

- Love her trying to get the lowdown on whether Edith and Thomas have fucked yet

- The huge moths thriving as opposed to the butterflies being eaten...

- Thomas like "You're not like other girls"

- Thomas's workshop and inventions are nice and make him more sympathetic. Definition of poor little miaow miaow. Terrible but also sad and pathetic

- Also these ghosts are fucked up, they definitely didn't just die of being poisoned or whatever.

- Surprised her father's ghost doesn't make an appearance...all the ghosts are women (except for Thomas right at the end)

- Edith: "Has anyone died in this house." Thomas: "Duh, it's a really old house. Americans 🙄"

- Oop...crimson peak mention...too late for poor Edith

- Ohhh shit she's coughing up blood (gdi Lucille giving her poisoned tea)

- I love that she tries to commune with the honestly pretty fucking scary ghosts. She's such a horror girlie

- Oh this one took a cleaver or something to the head

- I'd just stay in the post office and refuse to leave tbh. It looks cosy

- Love that Edith is a writer girlie too

- She's SOOOOOO fucking mad that she slept with him, she almost brains Edith with a fucking saucepan

- Ooooooh the bloody footprints from the clay

- Also Edith doing her little detective bit, stealing the keys

- The basement with the clay vats is so creepy. I mean so is the entire house but yeah. God. Perfect place to hide a body

- She's so mad that he wants Edith to see it

- Lucille DOES love to trauma dump on Edith lol

- Love that this is the first time Thomas explicitly acknowledged the poison tea and tells her not to drink it

- "We stay together. Never apart." "Never apart."

- "You couldn't leave me. You wouldn't." "I can't."

- ALANNN

- Also love that they're talking about the murders, sure, but also the incest. This is a conversation they've had multiple times. And in this one thing, Lucille sees it clearly. Thomas doesn't, or doesn't want to, wants to believe that he can make this work with all three of them, somehow (boy you're dreaming)

- Oop here we go with the sibling fucking!!

- Lucille is so possessive and victorious lmao

- Love that Edith immediately jumps to "you're not his sister" because incest does not compute

- Alan knows her so well so he knows what she means by her mother and crimson peak

- Yassss Thomas stab him non-fatally! King shit (lmao)

- Wow burning the book...cold

- "None of them ever fucked Thomas"

- Poor incest baby 👶

- THE HORROR WAS FOR LOVE

- This speech is everything to me.

- IT IS A MONSTROUS LOVE AND IT MAKES MONSTERS OF US

- "You should have seen him as a child. He was perfect." (Vs perfection has no place in love 👀👀)

- They're so sad honestly. I can't help but feel sorry for them. Even Lucille

- "you lied to me" "I did" "you poisoned me" "I did" "you told me you loved me" "I do" AGGHHHH SO GOOD

- The fact that he thinks they can all start a new life together. Oh honey.

- Interesting that ghost Thomas is white to match the snow instead of red or black like the other ghosts

- She literally heard you the first time Lucille! God! (Badass of her actually)

- Edith's speech with Lucille's ghost playing piano at the end...so good

[furrbbyx]

M👹NSTER March Day 4: Vampire (Unholy Praise)

Here's the sauce ya filthy monster fuckers. Since day 5 prompt was insect and I've been writing mostly insects I'm taking a break (playing hooky) on day 5.

Male!VampirexMale!Human

NSFW

cw: blood, power play, anal, semen

Do not reproduce, do not copy

Do comment. I'm curious if my frustration with writing this came out in reading it.

Approx 1300 words

"I could hurt you so bad"

"I know"

"I could break you easily"

"I know" the reply shudders from his lips. His eyes are wide and hazy. He's in the monster's thrall yet his own desire is just as compelling.

"I could kill you"

"Yess..." Breathy with excitement the man squirms on the bed beneath the creature. He rolls his hips trying to encourage it to caress his pretty bobbing cock. A cold, soft palm embraces his shaft and presses it against his belly, using purposeful thumb strokes over the underside of the taut, slender cock head. 

"Ah-ahhhnn"

The vampire chuckles. Leaving his prey's cock to throb unfulfilled, he spreads the human's legs bending them to the side with jerky movements. Careful with his sharp teeth, making sure to drag his fangs over the delicate skin, the creature marks its way down the man's hip and thigh until it can feel the drumbeat of rushing blood vibrating through his fangs. For a moment he rests there with closed eyes, his fangs like sounding rods, letting the heady throb reverberate in his skull and intensify his bloodlust. 

Letting the monster threaten him in this way is the human man's favorite way to play. And the creature indulges its beastly nature, seeking its own bliss. Society and the covens may have mingled, playing at social niceties, but vampires are viscous parasites and there is no way to hold that back completely.  

When the monster lifts its head its eyes are sickly pale, opaque with dark red veins cutting across them. The human gasps, and whines at the undead between his legs. Watching it transform into a horrific facsimile of humanity with its lips pulled back over the sharp teeth, only adds to his anticipation. His sudden cry of pain entwines with the vampire's snarl as it strikes its target. There's a sharp pinch and a sear of pain as their fangs slice through the skin to the thick vital vein underneath.

The human's eye close tightly, his back bows, his cock pulses and drips with each pull of his life force into the maw of evil. A sweet dizziness fills his mind after a few moments of being feasted on. With it comes a sense of relief and a softening of his body as if all anxiety has been drained as well.

The monster releases him with a pop, a satisfied little growl, and a lustful lick to the puncture wounds. It raises up, leering at his lover with a new unholy energy buzzing about his body. Suddenly nourished, his own cock stands at attention straining towards the human. The vampire licks his lips clean while pulling and squeezing at his other tool of impalement; a raging tan dick and purple mushroom head.

"Still alive?" the question is rhetorical as it can still hear his human's heartbeat. The man gives a sloppy nod, lolling in his ecstasy.

The vampire reaches for a lubricant and begins to rub the slippery substance into the man's opening. With one finger he forces a dollop inside, and adding another finger he strokes his lover's hot, quivering insides. Soon a third finger joins with a meaty wet sound and mewling encouragement from the man. His hips buck seeking to draw the thrusting fingers further inside against the swollen point of pleasure in his bowels. His cock is softer now, from blood loss, but there is nothing soft about his need to be wit the monster.

The vampire coos as he stretches the ring of muscles sucking at his fingers.

"That's it, open for me. Look at you, so soft and vulnerable. Damn" The undead fiend's hand is now warmed through thanks to the man's blood and his hot meaty channel. Adjusting, the creatures leans down taking a long kiss from the mans full lips. He spreads out, pressing his body along his lover's seeking more warmth and more of his plush body. He grinds down with his hips and their cocks slide back and forth against each other.

The human's hands are holding the monster close, his lips sucking and tasting a little of his own blood. 

The blood-sucker pulls back to kiss the man's cheek, down his neck, teasing the skin with sharp teeth so the man shudders and whines. Sitting back on its heels the vampire takes in the scene. Even with a little blood loss the man beneath the monster's gaze is hot and vibrant. His skin is damp with sweat and the creature can sense the rush of blood just below his prey's skin. With no effort from the monster than man's hips are pulled into the creature's lap, his buttocks grinding against its hard shaft. He's lifted and the shaft teases him, sliding up and down the cleft of his plush, slickened cheeks. With another adjustment he finds himself held with one of the creature's arms wrapped around his lower back, bowing his spine slightly as the vampires lines up his cock with his partners eager little hole. Working through bodily resistance, the thick rod pushes deep with one deliberate thrust. The strength of the monster cannot be resisted. The burning glide is overwhelming causing ripples of pleasure to convulse his fragile human body. He attempts to squeeze his legs shut and ease some of the pressure in his hips but an iron grip holds him fast. Instead he grips the arms that hold him in place, unsure if he's trying to get away from the sensation or pull closer.

"Oh no lover, keeps those legs open, I want to see my mark on you." Comes the mocking laugh from the blood-seeking monster.

The human man moans. The vampire delivers another slow unyielding thrust, burying deep. He pauses for a moment to let the man grind on the invading cock and rock against the spot inside that makes his eyes cross.

With little effort the creature maintains control of his deep penetration, and the room beings to fill with wet rhythmic sounds of copulation, slutty gasps and groans from the man and an animalistic snarl.

The fragile body in its clutches drives the monster wild. There is no escape from its will, no chance for survival should its lust change to hunger. Yet the human is in utter bliss, squirming worse than a worm on a hook.  

The vampire strokes the growing chub of an erection his lover is sporting, cooing and praising his little fleshlight. The red hazy state of satisfaction from his blood meal urges his rough playtime with his human.

He leverages the momentum with precise little hip snaps, bouncing his lover on to his dick like a paddleball. He grins and condescends about how stretched and desperate the human has become.

"You take all of that. Like. It's. Nothing. Huh?"

"Pleeeeeease" a panting wail followed by a grunt as the vampire thrusts vigorously.

Again the creature raises up, leaning over the man to fold his body so his knees begin to descend toward his shoulders.

"You can come when ever you want babe" taunts the vampire. He reached between their connected bodies to stroke and squeeze the fleshy sack there. He gathers balls and dick in a strangling grip that causes the man to shut his eyes tightly and his face to twist as if in agony.

The monster pushes the man into the bed with each hammering pump. Aiming the taught package at the man's slack mouth it adds:

"Just try not to waste any." His throbbing sack is released but his dick is relentlessly serviced in the twisting grip of the monster until his eyes roll back an his mouth opens wide to receive his own seed.

Each juicy shot of cum seems timed with the slap of the vampires hips against his ass. Shaking and barley aware of anything but his mind melting release, the man revels in the feeling of being spattered, of making a mess of his face.

"Yeah, just like that. Just uhhgnn, perfect!"

[aita-blorbos]

Am I the asshole for trying to kill all of humanity?

(ooc this works for either version of the show, for the newer version just think of it as an alternate ending ^-^')

My idiot brother suggested I write here since I'm in therapy now...

So my twin brother and I are...not human...I've always been stronger than him, and have grown...mmm... resentful of humans, despite the woman who raised us being a human, I grew to see them as parasites. As something beneath my brother and I. My brother however, is very fond of humans. Keeps protecting them, even when I compelled him do stuff or put him in situations where he was the easy blame. He got a HUGE bounty on his head!!! Enough to buy a new plant!!!! Yet despite all the hatred he faces He's forever loyal to humans, all because our mother taught him to never kill because "it's not your place to decide who lives or dies."

Anyway, I keep trying to destroy humanity with this little team I put together, and try to get my dear brother to join me! But he keeps saying no and just shooting me nonlethally!!!

Aita for trying to get my brother to help me get rid of these pests?

[serpentsapple]

(This post will contain mild spoilers for Yellowface. There will also be brief mentions of racism.)

Yellowface was a breath of fresh air!

Hello, welcome, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? I honestly thought this blog would be abandoned to inactivity until now when I received renewed vigour to write for it. The cause is simple, really. I finally found another book I thought was worth talking about regarding its portrayal of women.

Now this may surprise you but we don’t particularly enjoy expelling negative energy on books. We started this blog out of a naïve hope that perhaps we would be put in touch with like minds and find books that speak to us. Fast-forward a few years on and that hope was dashed. My co-partner had grown busy with other pursuits and equally had few words to speak on anything literary, and we packed up this blog prepared never to update it again.

That is, until, my saving grace came in the form of a most unexpected source.

I had heard whispers of Yellowface prior to its publication but I admit after reading its premise and a few advanced reviews, it didn’t seem like anything I would be interested in. How it pleases me to be wrong in this instance! And to have taken a chance after having seen a few friends speak its praises. The premise to Yellowface is a simple one: set in a contemporary America, Juniper Hayward steals the manuscript of her deceased Asian female friend and passes it off as her own, and this callous act of self-serving ego rockets her to stardom.

Juniper Hayward is one of the best female protagonists I’ve read in quite a long time.

Before I continue, I want to make a few things clear: Juniper Hayward is no feminist icon. She is racist. She is egocentric, prideful, catty, self-interested. She is, in all respects, the villain of the story and the orchestrator of her own misery. And yet… and yet… she compelled me. She reflected an ugly side of being an artist I longed to see portrayed by a woman. While she is the furthest thing from an aspirational and awe-inspiring individual she was so startlingly human, so flawed, so hungry, that I couldn’t get enough of her. I devoured Yellowface in the span of two days and afterwards I was left utterly enthralled by Juniper and Athena both and their parasitic, competitive friendship. 

Deep down, I’ve always suspected Athena likes my company precisely because I can’t rival her. I understand her world, but I’m not a threat, and her achievements are so far out of my reach that she doesn’t feel bad squealing to my face about her wins. Don’t we all want a friend who won’t ever challenge our superiority, because they already know it’s a lost cause? Don’t we all need someone we can treat as a punching bag?

This is the sort of representation I was looking for! Women who are deeply driven by their own want and ambition, compelled to succeed until it takes them to unprecedented heights (or leads to an almighty fall). I truly commend Kuang for bringing these women to life, setting them in a book filled with equally dimensional and awful female side characters, with nary a prominent male presence to be found unless they serve the narrative. It was a genuine pleasure to read about Juniper and her desire to be recognised for her writing accomplishments, to create and leave something behind that was bigger than herself:

A musician needs to be heard; a writer needs to be read. I want to move people’s hearts. I want my books in stores all over the world. I couldn’t stand to be like Mom and Rory, living their little and self-contained lives, with no great projects or prospects to propel them from one chapter to the next. I want the world to wait with bated breath for what I will say next. I want my words to last forever. I want to be eternal, permanent; when I’m gone, I want to leave behind a mountain of pages that scream, Juniper Song was here, and she told us what was on her mind.

Juniper Hayward is a protagonist on par with Humbert Humbert. A loathsome figure full of pitiful self-excuses and delusional rationalisations for the wrongs they commit. You feel disgust with them, you feel for them, you yearn to understand them, but what you can never do is ignore them.

Plagiarism is an easy way out, the way you cheat when you can’t string words together on your own. But what I did was not easy. I did rewrite most of the book. Athena’s early drafts are chaotic, primordial, with half-finished sentences littered all over the place. Sometimes I couldn’t even tell where she was going with a paragraph, so I excised it completely. It’s not like I took a painting and passed it off as my own. I inherited a sketch, with colors added only in uneven patches, and finished it according to the style of the original. Imagine if Michelangelo left huge chunks of the Sistine Chapel unfinished. Imagine if Raphael had to step in and do the rest.

And what I love most is that, penned by an Asian woman like Kuang, there is no chance for Juniper to escape accountability for her vile misdeeds. The author holds her up in all her contemptible glory, with no veneer of justification to be found, and invites you to observe and cast your judgement. She tapped into the gnawing resentment that eats away at every writer in the publishing industry, each of us all clawing for the scraps of recognition those at the table see fit to toss our way until we all turn on each other. Why her? Why not me? Is it because I am not pretty enough? Not charismatic enough? Am I simply too blandly white and heterosexual? Am I simply too unpalatable for the masses? On and on it goes, the gears turning, powering the engine of jealousy until it churns out a monster like Juniper. 

The attacks on the publishing industry and how it commodifies and weaponises identity to serve capitalist interests were particularly salient and incisive from Kuang, I like how she tackled both sides of an argument, exposing both of their respective shortcomings, and left no one unscathed.

She’s done this in all her other novels. Her fans praise such tactics as brilliant and authentic—a diaspora writer’s necessary intervention against the whiteness of English. But it’s not good craft. It makes the prose frustrating and inaccessible. I am convinced it is all in service of making Athena, and her readers, feel smarter than they are.

But best of all, I loved how much the story was so singularly focused on Juniper’s ambitions. There was no looming romance in the background threatening to infringe on the narrative. Juniper never took the chance to lament her lack of a traditional lifestyle, if anything, she scorns it. 

I couldn’t stand to be like Mom and Rory, living their little and self-contained lives, with no great projects or prospects to propel them from one chapter to the next. I want the world to wait with bated breath for what I will say next.

However, like all books, there are shortcomings. I won’t detail them here as they are not relevant to the nature of this particular post and don’t detract enough from the positives to bear mentioning. All in all, Yellowface was a pleasant and welcome surprise and I heartily encourage people to pick it up if you’re interested in reading about women wallowing freely in their dark sides.

[bookaddict24-7]

REVIEWS OF THE WEEK!

Books I’ve read so far in 2023!

Friend me on Goodreads here to follow my more up to date reading journey for the year!

___

204. The Parasite by Richard Paul Evans--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I can't believe we get more MICHAEL VEY stories! I was in love with this series when I did my re-read and I didn't know we were going to get a sequel series with them being in College until I saw this one pop up at work last year. Although it's a wholly new adventure, the suspense and fun is just the same.

Although it reads more like YA like the other books in the series, the characters are definitely older (wouldn't be surprised in they're at least 20). I liked this side of it because it felt more proportional with the violence they experience.

I also mainly loved reading this book because while it was fun, we got to have the opportunity to see how the characters were doing beyond the initial series, which is something so rare. AND it is a great story, too, it's not some sad attempt at writing yet another MICHAEL VEY story.

The team goes back to the site of one of the places that started it all because one of their old teammates has gone missing there, and two other have been abducted. It was nonstop action and intrigued.

If you haven't read this series, I highly recommend it. I think it's good for any ages because it's just pure fun. (My review rambles because I don't want to spoil anything LOL).

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205. The Traitor by Richard Paul Evans--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

The way I always devour these books. Since I waited to read the last book in this series, I was able to read this one immediately after.

I loved the twists and turns, and the constant adventure. I also almost cried during this one because it feels like the impossible has happened near the end of this book. I'm not going to say much because of spoilers, but I'm left with questions and I'm eagerly waiting for the next book, since this one left off on a cliffhanger!

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206. Come With Me by Ronald Malfi--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I've been meaning to read a Ronald Malfi novel because I came across a couple of his short story collections that looked really good to me. I wanted to see if I vibed with his writing and while it took me a little bit to get into it, I think I'm going to enjoy his stuff.

COME WITH ME dealt with not only a chilling mystery to be solved after the tragic killing of the MC's wife, but also the shadows of grief that haunt us when we're stuck in that immediate loop of not being able to cope with the new reality that loss paints for us. We see the personification of this grief in Malfi's novel as the MC struggles to find the answers his late wife had secretly been hunting for while she was alive.

This is definitely one of those horror books that masquerade as a ghost story, but is actually a tale of human-created horror and the haunting of grief. The actions of several people, including police officers, is another one of the chilling topics brought into focus in COME WITH ME.

It took me a while to get into the book because the first few parts are about the MC's reality shifting and in retrospect, I think that it was a very necessary introduction. We are being brought into the MC's very real horror story and then we start exploring the true crime aspect of this book.

I think what made this book all the more compelling was how consistent Malfi was throughout the story when it comes to grief and the horrible things humans do to one another. Even the ending was a jarring reminder of this.

COME WITH ME leaves you with questions like "Why?" and "What now?" and I have zero regrets about finally reading this book. I've read a lot of iterations of grief and how it can be explored in fiction. I think Malfi does a great job and I'm excited to read more of his work!

___

207. Hello Stranger by Katherine Center--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I'm a huge fan of Katherine Center. I've enjoyed pretty much every book she's ever written and that hasn't changed at all after reading this new one!

HELLO STRANGER was such a cute and unique story following a woman who loses her ability to recognize faces after a life-saving brain surgery. She's an artist and while she's struggling with her new (and potentially temporary) reality, she grows closer to the resident playboy (or is he?)

I loved seeing their banter, her hilarious take on certain situations, and how obvious the conflict was--but in the funniest way possible. This was truly such a sunlight of a book during the scariest of months.

Center's writing is always such a joy and HELLO STRANGER is perfect proof of that. It's not smutty, so know that, but it does focus on a classic and fun will they/won't they romance between two enemies (maybe?). If you like stories that feature a guy who falls first, but let's the FMC do her enemies bit, then you're going to really enjoy this.

Also, much like Center's other books, the MC also has a complex storyline. Her complicated relationship with her family, the grief that has helped shape her as an artist, and her need to be the best friend possible make her a fun narrator for HELLO STRANGER.

Add this one to your TBR if you want a fun romantic comedy with a little puppy, an evil stepsister, and a sexy man who just wants to be helpful.

___

208. The Fate of Ten by Pittacus Lore--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Well, that ending was...I'm very glad I'm reading these years after they've all been released. I don't know if I'd be able to handle having to wait a year for the the final book after that ending.

Much like the rest of this series, this was a fantastic book. Will always be a fan of how the characters have grown so much and the complex relationships between all of them. They all work off each other so, so well.

I liked the twists and there were definitely moments where I thought the storyline was getting really cool. Not going to lie, series like this one make me feel like a kid again. The fun of them, the emotional weight of them, and the "will they actually succeed?" urgency of these stories hook me every time.

I can't say too much because they're super easy to spoil, but if you've been on the fence about reading this series, I highly recommend that you give yourself a few days off to just sit and read these (or listen to them). They're that good and addicting. Even though I'm giving myself breaks in between each book, I am always thinking about them!

Seriously can't wait to get my hands on the next one!

___

209. The Ferryman by Justin Cronin--⭐️⭐️⭐️

It has been a LONG time since I've read anything by Justin Cronin. I remember that summer, years ago, when I fell into THE PASSAGE--the bible-thin pages taunting me--and completely falling in love. I didn't know what to expect from THE FERRYMAN, but the concept seemed interesting and I wanted to read something new from Cronin that didn't have to do with his spooky tome of a series.

Long story short, I thought THE FERRYMAN was...okay?

I THINK I understand what Cronin was trying to do with this one. I even see this as a bittersweet love letter to grief. Grief over a future lost; grief over what could have been and is actually a completely different existence. The whole experience was like a manic dream highlighted by the grief that the characters carry in their hearts. This aspect was powerful and honestly so heartbreaking.

One of the things that I recalled from THE PASSAGE were the parental undertones when one of the children lacked a parent to help guide them in their scary new world. This is another part of THE FERRYMAN that I think Cronin did well.

What I think was a flaw in THE FERRYMAN was the structure of the story and the at-times wordiness of the story, even though this book was much shorter than THE PASSAGE. We kept jumping from one storyline to another, and another, and another. Just when I thought I was getting a grip of where the story had jumped to, we were thrust into another new reality. The structure was akin to an onion full of layers--metaphorical layers that made me cry with frustration because understanding was such a slippery concept. Thankfully, the ending really and truly helped me understand what the hell was going on, but the journey was admittedly exhausting.

I'm happy I read this because it was different and challenged me, but the exhausting nature of it also makes me happy I made it to the end. (I don't foresee a re-read in my future.) Overall, I enjoyed the messages in this, but the execution could have been done better (unless disorienting the reader was the goal, then bravo!)

___

210. Time to Shine by Rachel Reid--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I received a copy from the publisher. This did not affect my rating in any way!

I LOVED THIS BOOK.

Listen, I haven't stayed up until 5:30AM listening to a book in FOREVER. Rachel Reid hits us again with another incredible M/M hockey romance! I simply adored this--in the "kicking my feet with joy" way.

The himb0 MC is the cutest person I have read in a book in a long time. One of my favourite lines he says is "Sometimes he had thought ideas were great and they turned out to be terrible, like the time he stirred peanut butter into his coffee." (Quote is from the ARC.) My sweet summer child. This quote pretty much paints a perfect idea of how he his. He's the sweetest and most...sexual guy ever and I fell immediately in love.

The second and quieter MC is this tall and shy badass goalie who is the biggest cinnamon roll. I wanted to hug him (after asking first) and take on some of the grief and guilt he carries with him for a good chunk of the book. His anxiety and adverseness to his talkative counterpart was hilarious and watching him slowly open up was the absolute best.

One of the best things about this book, which I have already told a couple of people, is the communication between the two characters. Consent is always important and it is definitely highlighted in this book.

TIME TO SHINE is an apt title, not just because we see these characters grow to be the brightest people they can be (in their worlds), but because this book is a like a ray of sunshine full of important topics, but most importantly, such a pure and sweet love.

I giggled, fell in love, and sweated my way through the smut.

I'm in love and I hope there's more coming in this world (or at least from Reid!)

___

211. The Wild Robot by Peter Brown--⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

I listened to the audiobook and this was an incredibly great choice. The production level was incredible and I can see younger readers falling in love immediately. I almost wish the sound effects had played throughout the whole book.

The mini storylines of how Roz the robot made friends and survived on the island were so sweet that I couldn't help but smile throughout the whole book. I especially loved the storyline where she was the mom to an orphaned little goose. It made my heart feel so warm and fuzzy--it was just so, so cute.

Now I understand why so many little ones come into the bookstore looking for this series! It has a lot of great messages of forgiveness and the complexities of the topic, friendships, different kinds of parents, never judging someone before getting to know them, and how family isn't always blood-related but can be made up of those around us who love us. It's an incredible wholesome book.

I think this would be a great book for an even younger demographic than 9-12. I think I'd recommend this for as young as eight or nine--especially when one considers what some kids are reading now. This is a wholesome read with very, very minimal violence and a whole lot of love.

___

Have you read any of these books? Let me know your thoughts!

___

Happy reading!

[that-one-rat-in-the-cupboard]

Warning! Good Omens S2 Spoilers ahead!

I was listening to sad-ish love songs today at work and started piecing together a poem, which I quickly realized could be used for post-S2 Crowley, and then this was born. I really like it and I hope you all do, too! Az is literally just me. I dress like that, Az is my name, the only difference is hair but I'm getting mine done on my birthday the same way story-me has theirs done. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

P.S. I'll be posting the poem on its own right after I post this if you wanna ty and analyze it or something (:

----------------------------------------------------

Talk, Don't Speak.

----------------------------------------------------

The pub was surprisingly packed for a Wednesday night. Nearly every seat was taken and the only reason Crowley had been able to secure a table to himself is largely because of the harsh glares he shot to anyone who dared try to sit with him. It was 7 p.m. when he finally found out why the pub had been so packed; there was a poem reading event tonight. His first thought was that this was something Aziraphale would probably really enjoy attending, maybe even being one of the readers. The thought alone nearly made him leave, but his curiosity won him over. He hadn’t seen anyone recite poetry since around the time Shakespeare was around. So he stayed, and he half-listened to the poets reading their works. None of them caught his attention very well, so he didn’t really bother listening much.

Then someone named Az walked onto the stage. They were dressed simply, but the outfit was still eye-catching. They wore a skin-tight black button-down, a loose white tie, a flowy black skirt that reached around their mid-thigh, white tights, and green high tops with various black sketchy designs drawn on the sides. They had a few piercings on their face and various bracelets lining their forearms. Some were leather, some studded, some were made of thread, and some even had beads woven in. They had a few silver rings along their fingers. Their hair was choppy and reached just past their shoulders, the very front pieces bleached white and the rest dyed black. 

What had initially caught Crowley’s attention was the announcer calling the person’s name, as it sounded like he was about to say Aziraphale, but, much to Crowley’s relief, and dismay, it wasn’t Aziraphale, just someone with an odd name. He rested his head back on his arms, fully intent on zoning out and continuing to drown his stomach with wine, but once they started talking, he couldn’t help but listen.

“Hello, everyone!” Az smiled kindly and waved to the crowd, one hand on the mic, “As you heard, my name is Az. I’ve been writing stories since I was a kid and I’ve been writing poetry since high school. Tonight I am going to be reading a recent piece of mine titled ‘Talk, Don’t Speak.”

They took a moment to take a deep breath, likely to calm any nerves they had, and then began to speak.

“I like you. Not in the way two friends like each other, though. No, I like you in the way whales like to sing. I like you in the way the stars like to shine. I like you in the way sea foam likes to border the shore. I like you in the way yeast likes to grow. I like you in the way I like like you…but it feels like you don’t like me the same. 

“It feels like you like me like a parasite. Feeding off me and keeping me here so you can grow and become stronger. You drain me of my blood, sweat, and tears, yet you keep me nearby. But that’s the problem, you don’t feel like a parasite. You being around fills me with light and warmth, two things I swore I abandoned years ago. Yet here they are, seeping into my lungs and my heart only when you are near. You break down the walls that I’ve built and warmed the cold blade of my heart. Then you left.

“It feels like a tincture but you’ve left me bleeding out on the cold wood of your living room floor. It hurts so much that I am compelled to say “Et tu Brute?” But if you were the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden, then I would be Eve, and I wouldn’t take just one bite. I’d devour you whole, unhinge my serpent jaw and swallow your smile, your laugh, your heart…saying it makes me wonder if ‘like’ is even the right word.

“…No. It’s not. It never has been, has it? I guess I just never noticed, but we both know I’m just a coward. I speak but I never talk. Can I talk to you one more time?

“I’ve avoided saying it for far too long, so I will say it now as my Holy Water tears burn canals into my cheeks and chin…

“I love you.”

The pub was quiet for a moment before people began snapping in applause. Crowley was frozen. Had this person been stalking him for 6 thousand years or something? Were they some demon or angel in disguise? They didn’t seem like they were…were they psychic? How on earth was their poetry so close to what Crowley had been dealing with lately? After Az took a bow, they exited the stage and the announcer took their place, announcing the next poet. Crowley’s eyes didn’t leave Az, though. He watched as they walked to a booth next to the stage with a few other poets. Az gathered up their coat and their leather bag before bidding farewell and hugging the walls of the pub before leaving. Crowley quickly followed.

They ended up stopping at a bus stop, sitting on the bench and patiently waiting for the next bus. Crowley sauntered over and sat beside her, “That was quite the poem.”

Az smiled softly and looked at him, “Thank you. I’m glad you liked it. Did it resonate with you?”

Crowley scrunched his face up a bit and shrugged, “Eugh, you could say that. Who was the inspiration for it?”

“Hm? Oh, no one.” Az smiled and turned their head back to the road. 

Crowley’s eyes widened and he quickly snapped his head to look at them, “What?”

“Yup,” they enunciated the ‘p’ with a pop, “None of my love-based poems are inspired by someone. Well, unless it’s a heartbreak one. Those are usually inspired by someone.”

Crowley sat up a bit more and waved his hand around, the one not holding a half-empty wine bottle, as he spoke, “So, that whole thing, not inspired by anyone? Anyone at all?”

“Nope.” she enunciated the ‘p’ once again. 

“Then how did you write it? Got the story from a friend and turned it into a poem?”

“Nope. I listened to sad love songs that aren't super popular. Love songs from people who aren’t famous or well-known or even have a lot of followers. I listen to songs from people who maybe have a few hundred or thousand followers.”

“Why?” Crowley didn’t understand, but he desperately wanted to now. 

“Because they’re the people I see every day. They’re the people that aren't rich. They’re struggling with things most other people do. They don’t have a trust fund and sometimes that music is the only thing they have to support them. They’re real. More real than nearly every famous person. I want to write for people who struggle and cry and laugh, and try to thrive when they’re merely surviving. People like me. I take what they say, as well as some of my own experiences, and before long the words are spilling from my fingertips and onto the page.”

Crowley stared at Az for a moment before leaning his head back to rest on the back of the bench, thinking. After a few moments, Az spoke once more, “You said you resonated with my poem, right?”

“Nn..yeh.” Crowly half-shrugged.

“Did you talk to them? Tell them how you felt?”

Crowley sat up, getting ready to leave as he felt deja’vu from his conversation with Nina and Maggie, “Course I did. Told ‘m everything and he left.”

“Did you talk to him, or did you speak.”

Crowley froze for the second time that night, his eyes gazing past his dark glasses and into bright hazel ones. He had spoken. It was unsaid, but they both knew. After a moment, Az turned to her leather bag and began to undo the clasps on the front of it, “I want you to have something.”

Crowley didn’t say anything as they pulled out a black, hard-cover book. Crowley’s immediate reaction was to say he didn’t read, but something ineffable convinced him to keep quiet, so he did. Az then held the book out to him, “You don’t have to read it, you don’t even have to open it. Hell, you can chuck it in the trash for all I care, but at least take it.”

Crowley saw from over Az’s shoulder that the bus was just rounding the corner. He hesitated, but they kept the book held out to him. He looked back into them and with how intently they were looking at him he could have sworn they were looking right through his glasses. Just as the bus parked in front of the stop and opened its doors, he snatched the book. Az smiled despite it and boarded the bus without another word. 

— — — — — — 

Rain pelted against the hood of the Bently, it being the only sound to accompany the intoxicated demon. His head was resting on the handle of the steering wheel, staring at the black book in his passenger seat. The back was facing up, and it only had a short sentence printed in white ink that read;

“Sincerely, 

Az R. A.

<>”

Crowley hadn’t touched the book since Az gave it to him over a week ago. It had sat in his passenger seat since then, collecting dust. He had debated throwing it out several times, but something in him refused to let him toss it. Finally, he decided tonight was the night he would at least read the title and open it. So he grabbed it, wiped off the little dust on it, and read the cover that was printed in the same white ink;

Az’s 

Total and Complete Collection of

 Love, Heartbreak, and Everything in Between:

A Guide.

Crowley huffed out a breath and flipped it open to the first page. On it was a short, hand-written note;

“To whomever I have given his book to, I hope it helps you. I wish you the best, and I hope the contents of this book provide you the words you need to Talk.

-Az R. A.

<>”

There was a date in the top right corner of the page. The note was from 2020. Crowley wanted to think about it for a moment, but that nagging feeling in him convinced him to keep going. To keep reading. So he did. There were poems about love heartbreak, and everything in between, just as Az had promised in their title. The book wasn’t long, but it was packed full of metaphors, clever lines, euphemisms, and most importantly…emotion. The last poem ended in the middle of the page with three dots, the right page completely blank, but the poem didn’t seem to be over. Hesitantly, though he didn’t know why he was, he turned the page to read the final line;

“In the end, this isn’t a guide. It is a mere suggestion.”

[grousebrood]

wip wednesday

tagged by @optiwashere, i honestly don't really know anyone else on here but if you're one of the four people who follow me you can consider this a tag!

the first real fic i ever tried writing was far too big of a bite for me to chew, and i wrote about 90% of it and haven't touched it since. at this point i'm not sure i'll ever actually finish it, but it was actually weirdly very instrumental in me learning and understanding some very fundamental things about myself post/mid-transition. so even if it's never done it'll probably always be kind of important to me.

anyway my writing process is very messy and modular so there are very few sections that don't have weird little gaps. so i tried to put together a coherent little thing from it to post — not the explicit smut parts tho, bc i'm still too embarrassed to post here haha.

starring drow paladin of selune and shadowheart mid-Act 2, so vague SPOILERS ACT 2 ahead. important context is also that i wrote this mid-Act 2, so it very well may be a complete mess canonically but whaddya gonna do. starts mid fic.

CW: whipping, blood, hurt but we don't get to the comfort, sadomasochism (?), penis referenced

(sincere and deep apologies if i missed something, i'm new to this so idk all of em, but if something you'd like to avoid is adjacent to the above concepts it's probably better to just skip this!)

_______________

"Go forth and sow doubt, but do not compel it — only the willing may know the Lady’s embrace."

_______________

Still, the horrific, repulsive display festered within Helena. She had tried to push the images from her thoughts but they twisted their way inside. The rending of flesh. The grotesque cruelty of the wretched and inhuman dogma. 

Most of what she felt was a revolted nausea, her weathered soul recoiling at having witnessed the unholy mania. 

However, something flickered deep within her. It drew her close and quickened her heart. 

The mindless rapture. The oblivion. The end to all her aching hope. 

Loss.

Helena was infuriated by the thought. Shar’s embrace was a vile parasite that tormented the weak, and she was not weak. She steadied her mind, slowed her heart. Eyes closed, focusing, she uttered a soft prayer. The words offered a small balm, and her doubts and fears briefly scuttled to parts unknown as thoughts of something not too dissimilar flooded into the cavity the disturbing temptation had left behind. 

Rolling to her side, she gazed at the fading fire, and, beyond it, Shadowheart’s sleeping form. The deep, soft breaths of her slumber soothed Helena as she watched her chest slowly rise and fall. 

Since they’d begun traveling together, Helena and Shadowheart had been poking and prodding one another about their respective, incompatible faiths. And yet despite all this, or maybe even because of it, they had grown closer. They both understood the depths of devotion. What it meant. What it takes from you, what it gives in return. 

But even more, they came to understand each other, sharing things about themselves perhaps no other person had ever heard. Their memories, no matter how filamentous. Their thoughts, their fears. Their doubts. 

As they and the others traveled across [Faerun] together, desperately seeking a way to save all their lives, Helena pieced together the fragments of Shadowheart’s story within her heart and found herself increasingly drawn to the half-elf. After they shared a kiss in the small hours of the morning, just before the goblins had assaulted the Emerald Grove, Helena had even begun to naively wonder about what kind of a future a cleric of Shar and paladin of Selune could share.

------time jump-----

"If you were capable of feeling even an ounce of what I’ve felt, what I’ve been feeling, you wouldn’t be so quick to recite your ignorant drivel. I thought I might come here to offer you some comfort to help you sleep, but you clearly have little intention of letting me be close to you.” Shadowheart got to her feet, turning to leave. 

Even as the words stung her, a delirious thought slipped into Helena’s mind, small at first, then all-consuming. 

What better way to prove her worth to her Moonmaiden, her dedication to her righteous calling than to walk through the darkest corridors of the soul and come out the other side more devoted than ever? Yes, she would allow her blasphemous feelings to flourish — only to lull them into a false sense of security so they could be exterminated with a holy beam of radiant light. 

She would be stripped bare, clean and naked, and then moon’s love would once again envelop her, the proudest daughter of Selune. 

“Show me,” she said quietly.  

Shadowheart, mid-exit, became still. She turned back to look at the drow sitting in the dark, almost invisible if not for her pale white hair.

“Excuse me?” 

“I want you to show me,” Helena said, rising to her feet as anger and panic roiled inside her. “Prove your point. Make me feel Shar’s truth. She’d love it if you were to turn me, no? You’ve said so yourself. Imagine it. The woman who recovered the githyanki artifact, succeeding where all others failed, and on top of that, serving her Lady a new cleric of Loss. She would have no choice but to elevate such a loyal and powerful servant.”

“That’s nonsensical,” Shadowheart said, standing still as Helena came close enough that she could feel the heat of her body in the cold night. Helena reached a hand up to cup the side of Shadowheart’s cheek. The same way she held her the night they kissed. 

“Unless you haven’t really believed anything you’ve said since I met you.” 

Shadowheart’s eyes sparked with darkness as her hand shot up to grab Helena’s wrist and she abruptly pushed forward, catching her off guard and off-balance. Shadowheart’s grip secure on her arm, Helena stumbled backward, lightly tripping over the rocks and roots of the forgotten homestead’s pathways. Carried by the momentum of their bodies, Helena slammed hard into the aged wood of the shack as her breath left her chest. 

The two holy warriors pressed into each other against the wall as Shadowheart held Helena in place, her quarry struggling to suck in air after the impact, incapable of doing anything much at all despite being the stronger woman. 

“How dare you question my commitment to Lady Shar?” Shadowheart said venomously. “After all I’ve been through — all you’ve seen?”

“By your own admission I know nothing of the true worth of your Mistress of the Night,” Helena said, petulant, catching her breath and ignoring the wrenching lurch in her stomach as she felt Shadowheart push against her. “But from what I see it doesn’t seem like you know much more than a few silly phrases and petty excuses, pounded into your head by years of obedient listening. So show me, if you’re so devout.” 

Shadowheart’s anger flared and her grip tightened on Helena. She pondered for a moment, resolve hardening as she, too, tried to ignore a wellspring of warmth that had begun to flow through her body.

“Inside,” she finally hissed. 

-----------time jump-----------

“Fuck you.” 

Helena’s vision blurred as the room warped and spun around her. She again felt Shadowheart’s breath on her ear, though she struggled to listen. The sharp pain from her back extended outward, throbbing, as a hot pressure began to build in her body. The chair, already uncomfortable, seemed to become even smaller as she buckled over in agony, feeling something begin to press against her abdomen. Was that… Was she…?

Was she getting hard? 

Another lash of the whip. Helena jerked in pain and fell to the side, crashing to the floor, tears and spit dripping from her face as she concentrated on regaining some composure. 

Shadowheart crouched in front of Helena, using the whip’s grip first to lift the blindfold and then to tilt her chin upward, forcing her to focus on her tormentor’s face. The face of a woman she had thought she might love, whose unexpected softness had sustained Helena even as she thought her trials might break her.

Now, however, it seemed cruel and hard, Shadowheart’s preternatural derision directed entirely on her and her pathetic, drooling failure to understand the Sharran’s faith. Even still, as the pain continued to throb within her, so did her building animal lust, lust that made her feel all the more ashamed. Not only had she failed to prove herself, but she was hopelessly enthralled to this woman, desperate for more and yet physically unable to withstand it. 

“Shall I stop?” 

The flame was a fading ember. She stared into Shadowheart’s eyes, hoping to see a flicker of concern that showed that the cleric still cared for her. Helena saw none, and the hope died — but seemingly with it so too did her need to either please her companion or preserve herself. Spite boiled in her throat. 

No. 

She would not fail. 

She could not let the smug Sharran win. Helena spat. 

“Keep going.”

----------------------------

and there ya have it

[miyamiwu]

The MC and ML really just inadvertently released the monsters from MC's domain into the real world, and now it's parasitizing humans and eating other humans and--

Fuck, the author's writing has been meh so far, but the plot compels me so I'm sticking around, but if I don't see at least one of these two feeling the slightest guilt, I'm gonna scream

You motherfuckers released a monster into the wild, yet you're still so chill??? You think it's still all fun and games with your new superpowers???

Author-sama, I am hooked. But pleeeease write better already

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary228

4/30-5/1/2024

tuesday - wednesday

off now!!

super happy about that.

super unhappy about the events at columbia, seeing that unfold is rather horrifying with the pigs and so on. i wonder i guess, as that becomes any kind of focus, we lose sight of gaza and what is taking place in rafah now, with israel now invading and destroying camps of refugees it seems. overall, what am i to say, it is terrifying the world right now, but the struggle goes on, the effort is continually made, and there are, brief because they are kept from blossoming, instantiations of the sort of world we would all like to see appear, cooperation between faiths and the faithless, between all manners, beyond manner. it is possible. that is half of the intolerability. we know it can happen, yet it does not.

so beyond the terror of the world beyond my door, a strange thing, the terror of work, the terror of all labor and exploitation and the terror of genocide and the terror of the reasonless gunshots i heard in the morning, one two three, what of today.

i recorded vocals that i think, god willing, sound good and that means 2 tracks are finished up!!!! yay!

that leaves one more with lyrics needing writing + vocals on parts that aren't the chorus.

reading is going well, nearing the end of the book, i am realizing now, 1), i would be well of reading this book again in one sitting and 2), i am going to miss it deeply. it is connecting a lot more, there was this passage i read today, about flowers, she wrote about a bunch of flowers, different kinds, what they are, the 'it' of them, or that they are an 'it' in some way. they are it. it is nothing short of miraculous writing. from this, another lovely and new word has come to me, 'epiphytic', which describes an epiphyte which is a plant that grows on another plant, as orchids do, but not in a way that is parasitic, instead, they roost there, and nourish themselves on the air, on rain, and lead their tiny lives. bromeliads are another such thing. lovely, and i feel myself in that word in some way, a life needing others to occur at all, and hopefully non-parasitic, i emerge where life already is. differs from the social, i happen upon other happenings, not resultant, aberrant but not the kind subject to the compulsions of the hygiene-forces guiding sociality/the norm/ that which does away with waste-thought.

this is, at least, a positive vision of my life.

many times i am compelled to imagine myself as a parasite.

anyway here's some cute dolls i saw on ebay, i've never heard of hekinan dolls, will have to look into them more tomorrow or soon. a pleasant thing to research:

and then here's some pictures i took at work today of the bear suit. scary. my gf says i should post them places more people will see, maybe i will, a kind of spite act against my workplace. what if people get scared of the bear... that would be #so #cool.

fuck you, dumb bear. you can see how sad that place looks behind the exterior(s). interesting how a building's facade continues along the inside.

anyway, i can't think of much else. maybe, from looking at ebay, the way some old trash from the 70s, plastic and paper trash, makes me feel a weird nostalgia for my aunt's place, and parts of my mother imparted into me. odd stuff. but it's a kind of lovely trash or something. very katamari damacy feeling, in that way. junk into stars into apocalypse.

so,

with that,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[smokeybrandreviews]

World of Tomorrow

I am a Marvel shill. I love the comics, the worlds, the films; All of it. To this day, i am an MCU apologist, though, lately, that’s becoming harder and harder to do. I personally feel that, between the Big Two, Marvel is the superior company in all aspects, save one - animation. Marvel animated fair is pitiful in comparison to what DC has given us over the years. I mean, the Nineties were solid with the X-Men, FF, Spider-Man, Hulk, and Iron Man shows but Batman: The Animated Series trumps all of that. B:TAS is more than classic and gave birth to one of the most intricate, enduring, and entertaining franchises, ever. DC has had a penchant for animation since On Leather Wings first aired so long ago and that has continued to this day. I mean, they made kind of a detour with that mixed bag of a film universe based on the Nnu52, the DCAMU, but that got the reboot treatment with Justice League Dark: Apokolips War and gave birth to what looks to be a brand new franchise: The Tomorrowverse.

Superman: Man of Tomorrow

On the surface, this is a solid “Superman” origin story. In reality, it's a dogsh*t watch. This is the firt entry into the Tomorrowverse and it's definitely a mixed bag. Love the animation and art direction. Love the casting, outside of Lois Lane. Kind of hate the Parasite and Martian Manhunter redesigns. Really hate this universe's take on Lex Luthor. Out the box, for me, The Tomorrowverse stumbled and hasn't really recovered yet. The following two entries (three if you count the two part Long Halloween entry) are much, much, better. Unfortunately, the last two, so far, are much, much, worse.

Justice Society: World War II

I kind of liked this one. It’s basically Flashpoint mixed with New Frontier. It’s an interesting idea and the execution is there, but it feels like filler almost. Almost as if this is the jumping off point for something more. All in all, it’s kind of my favorite of the bunch, not named Long Halloween. It’s always dope seeing DC’s wildly overpowered take on heroes, participate in very much human conflict. All in all, solid watch.

Batman: The Long Halloween

I actually wrote and entire proper review on this when it first released. I loved it. Most accurate adaption of the iconic Bat-story to date and the best entry of The Tomorrowverse to date. Well worth a watch or two.

Green Lantern: Beware My Power

This on was weird as f*ck. Actually, to be honest, all of these are kind of weird as f*ck. All of the Tomorrowverse entries, except Halloween, are weird retellings of iconic narratives from the comics, but wrong? Like, this is definitely the origin story to Kyle Rayner’s take on Green Lantern, down to a really corny take on Parallax, but it was given to Jon Stewart. Hell, they threw in a little bit of sexual chemistry with Hawkgirl at the end as a nod to their DCAU romance. Ultimately, this thing was f*cking boring. Zero out of ten, would not recommend.

Legion of Super-Heroes

I think i liked this one even less than Green Lantern. I honestly have nothing good to say about it outside of the costumes are dope. That’s kind of it.

The Tomorrowverse is in it’s infancy but, so far, it’s underwhelming. The writing needs to be much better and the overarching plot should probably be much, much, more compelling. Still, i love the art style and character designs but, if I'm being honest, it’s worse than it’s predecessor. There’s still room to grow but if this is what tomorrow holds, I'm happy with what we got today.

[smokeybrand]

World of Tomorrow

I am a Marvel shill. I love the comics, the worlds, the films; All of it. To this day, i am an MCU apologist, though, lately, that’s becoming harder and harder to do. I personally feel that, between the Big Two, Marvel is the superior company in all aspects, save one - animation. Marvel animated fair is pitiful in comparison to what DC has given us over the years. I mean, the Nineties were solid with the X-Men, FF, Spider-Man, Hulk, and Iron Man shows but Batman: The Animated Series trumps all of that. B:TAS is more than classic and gave birth to one of the most intricate, enduring, and entertaining franchises, ever. DC has had a penchant for animation since On Leather Wings first aired so long ago and that has continued to this day. I mean, they made kind of a detour with that mixed bag of a film universe based on the Nnu52, the DCAMU, but that got the reboot treatment with Justice League Dark: Apokolips War and gave birth to what looks to be a brand new franchise: The Tomorrowverse.

Superman: Man of Tomorrow

On the surface, this is a solid “Superman” origin story. In reality, it's a dogsh*t watch. This is the firt entry into the Tomorrowverse and it's definitely a mixed bag. Love the animation and art direction. Love the casting, outside of Lois Lane. Kind of hate the Parasite and Martian Manhunter redesigns. Really hate this universe's take on Lex Luthor. Out the box, for me, The Tomorrowverse stumbled and hasn't really recovered yet. The following two entries (three if you count the two part Long Halloween entry) are much, much, better. Unfortunately, the last two, so far, are much, much, worse.

Justice Society: World War II

I kind of liked this one. It’s basically Flashpoint mixed with New Frontier. It’s an interesting idea and the execution is there, but it feels like filler almost. Almost as if this is the jumping off point for something more. All in all, it’s kind of my favorite of the bunch, not named Long Halloween. It’s always dope seeing DC’s wildly overpowered take on heroes, participate in very much human conflict. All in all, solid watch.

Batman: The Long Halloween

I actually wrote and entire proper review on this when it first released. I loved it. Most accurate adaption of the iconic Bat-story to date and the best entry of The Tomorrowverse to date. Well worth a watch or two.

Green Lantern: Beware My Power

This on was weird as f*ck. Actually, to be honest, all of these are kind of weird as f*ck. All of the Tomorrowverse entries, except Halloween, are weird retellings of iconic narratives from the comics, but wrong? Like, this is definitely the origin story to Kyle Rayner’s take on Green Lantern, down to a really corny take on Parallax, but it was given to Jon Stewart. Hell, they threw in a little bit of sexual chemistry with Hawkgirl at the end as a nod to their DCAU romance. Ultimately, this thing was f*cking boring. Zero out of ten, would not recommend.

Legion of Super-Heroes

I think i liked this one even less than Green Lantern. I honestly have nothing good to say about it outside of the costumes are dope. That’s kind of it.

The Tomorrowverse is in it’s infancy but, so far, it’s underwhelming. The writing needs to be much better and the overarching plot should probably be much, much, more compelling. Still, i love the art style and character designs but, if I'm being honest, it’s worse than it’s predecessor. There’s still room to grow but if this is what tomorrow holds, I'm happy with what we got today.

[foilfreak]

Beauty and Her Beast: Chapter 2

Warning: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(Link to ao3 version in comments below)

Chapter 2:

The journey to Mother Miranda’s personal laboratory was much shorter and more enjoyable than the original walk to the meeting site, in Salvatore’s humble opinion.

Mother Miranda was mostly quiet, distant, and preoccupied throughout the duration of the walk, even more so than normal. That being said however, while this sort of behavior would usually spell disaster for whichever one of the 4 lords was forced to be in her presence during these sorts of moods, in this situation, Mother Miranda did not appear tense or agitated or hostile like she usually would be. Just lost in thought. As though she were only quiet because she was too busy thinking about something else to speak. She didn’t even seem to mind his various attempts at starting conversation, which surprised, but endlessly delighted, the mutant man.

‘Mother must be in a very good mood today. She hasn’t hit me or told me to shut up the whole time we’ve been together. Maybe she’s made another breakthrough with the cadou? I’d certainly be very happy if I were in her shoes’ Salvatore excitedly thought to himself as the woman in question stepped forward to unlock and open the large steel door of her personal laboratory, allowing Salvatore to step into the facility before closing and locking it again behind her.

“Moreau, do you recall the set of mutation experiments I began at the beginning of last year?” The raven mother asked, turning around and beginning to quickly make her way down the long, dark corridor.

“Y-you mean… the o-ones with the new c-cadou strain th-that I… that I d-developed… f-for you?” Salvatore stutters, breath labored and body struggling to keep up with the taller woman’s vastly larger steps.

“Correct” Mother Miranda says, turning a corner. “As impressed as I was with the final results of this particular strain, I’m afraid it still isn’t good enough. None of the subjects I implanted with cadou last year turned out to be favorable candidates.”

Salvatore stops in his tracks, a look of horror and agony on his face as news that he’d failed mother once again practically tears him apart from the inside out. “O-oh Mother… I-im so s-s-sorry to h-hear that… b-but don’t w-worry… I’ll-I’ll try h-harder next t-time… I w-won’t fail y-you again Mother, so p-please… please j-just give me a-another chance to get it r-right… i b-beg of y-you…”

Mother Miranda stops and turns toward the mutated lord, staring at him in silence as he drops to his knees and grovels at her feet, begging desperately for his failures to be forgiven.

“Off your knees, Moreau, this behavior is unbecoming of a Lord such as yourself. Besides, I never said that you were the one to blame for the lack of successful results, nor am I necessarily displeased by the fact that these experiments yielded failed vessels.”

Salvatore allows his gaze to rise to his mother’s face, where, true to her words, the parts of Miranda’s face that Salvatore could make out from behind her mask did not appear marred with the familiar expressions of anger and disappointment that the 4 lords were usually met with after another round of failed vessels.

“Y-you’re… you’re not upset with m-me?” The deformed man asks, his voice laced with shock and disbelief.

“No, my child, I’m not upset with you. While these experiments may have ended in failure, they did provide me with useful information that may prove to be pertinent to our mission in the near future. In fact, as I said earlier, the reason why I’ve brought you here is because I want to give you a gift, as a reward for all your incredible work. Did you expect me to be upset with you simply because this round proved unsuccessful as well? Do you really think so poorly of your loving mother, who works tirelessly to ensure her children are happy and rewarded for all their faith and trust in me?” Mother Miranda sniveled pitifully, turning her gaze away in mock dejection as Salvatore, horrified that he’d insulted and hurt her somehow, scrambles to his feet, gently taking both of Miranda’s hands into his own and holding the supple skin to his bloated and deformed face, desperately hoping this would comfort her.

“No no no no, o-of course n-not, Mother… I-I’d never expect s-something like th-that from y-you… and-and I k-know better… b-better than a-anyone… just h-how h-hard you w-work… not j-just on y-your experiments… but f-for all o-of us… too… you l-l-love us… you… love ME… I-I’ll always love y-you, Mother… always” Salvatore blurts, stumbling over his words as he tries desperately to comfort Mother Miranda, an effort he’s seemingly rewarded for, when Miranda takes one of her hands away and brings it back to the top of Salvatore’s head, once again gently brushing her hand against it.

Salvatore’s knees nearly give out from under him as the heavenly sensation washes throughout his body like a raging typhoon, leaving him feeling tired and weak yet hungry and wanting for more, though whatever that “more” was, Salvatore was quick to beat it back down deep within himself, knowing this was neither the time nor the place for him to be entertaining such… primal desires about someone like Mother Miranda, no matter how little he intends to act on them.

“Thank you, Moreau. You always know exactly what to say to make Mother feel better. You’re such a good boy” Mother Miranda says, making sure to put extra emphasis onto the last two words as she reaches forward and pulls Salvatore closer to her.

“G-g-g-gggg… good… boy… me?” Salvatore chokes, tears beginning to fill his eyes as Mother Miranda’s arms come to wrap around him, pushing the deformed man’s face to lean against the soft, feathery material of her bosom.

“Yes, Moreau. You’ve always been very special to me. From the day I met you, you’ve been such a good, well-behaved boy that I never have to worry about” Miranda begins, her face blank and expressionless as she passionlessly strokes Salvatore’s face. “No matter how simple the task, those 3 are always making mistakes of some kind and forcing me to come and clean up their messes after them, especially that snake Heisenberg. But you? No, never you, Moreau, not my special, perfect little boy who always tries his best to make Mother happy. Do you enjoy making Mother happy, Moreau?”

“Y-y-yES! Of-of c-course I do” Salvatore moans, his voice slightly muffled by Miranda’s chest as he violently nods his head in affirmation, tears freely falling from his eyes as his head swims deliriously from the endless wave of kind words and gentle touches.

“Good! I always knew you did. And for that, I'm going to reward you with something very special. Something to… keep you busy... while I’m away for a little while” The raven mother coos again.

Salvatore stops for a moment when the meaning of Miranda’s words finally registers in his brain. “While… w-while you’re… away? You’re l-leaving us?” Salvatore asks, his voice growing increasingly distressed with each word.

“Only for a short time, hopefully,” Mother Miranda answers, “but yes, at the end of this month, I will be leaving the village in order to attend to some very important business I have. I’m not sure how my journey will fare, however I'm optimistic that it will be the key necessary to finally getting my Ev- uh… pardon me; the key to finally achieving our goal of creating a perfect vessel. Doesn’t that sound nice, Moreau?”

“It-it does” the deformed man says quietly, still put off by the mention of Mother leaving, but not wanting to put a damper on his mother’s incredibly rare good mood. “But… where is i-it… th-that you’ll be g-going… an-and for h-how long?”

“Just down the mountain to pay someone a visit, however I have no idea when I'll be back. That will depend on how successful my mission goes, I suppose.”

Silence falls over the two as Salvatore, still upset by the news that Mother Miranda would be leaving, continues to take in the comfort and warmth of his Mother’s arms for just a moment longer, selfishly wishing that Mother held him more often. Eventually however, Mother Miranda does pull back from the superficial embrace, gesturing for Salvatore to follow her once more, which the deformed man begins to do without question.

“Of the 4 of you, you’re the last one to come and pick your gift,” Miranda says, unaware of the visible slump that Salvatore’s shoulders take on upon hearing this. “However, despite there only being one option left, it would appear as though your siblings have decided to spare you their usual games of trickery this time around. If anything, I think you might be the one to have ended up with the best deal after everything is said and done.”

Salvatore looks up at Mother Miranda with an expression of mild confusion, wondering what on earth she could mean by that. His musings are quickly interrupted however, when the two enter a large room filled with various pods.

“Of the 22 test subjects we started with last year, only 13 were genetically compatible with the cadou parasite, and even then, only 4 ended up surviving the full mutation phase. Despite their impressively stable conditions, they still aren’t suitable vessels for my purposes, however I felt as though it would be such a waste to just do away with them. So, with that in mind, I’ve decided that my gift to you all, before I must leave you for a time, is to give one test subject to each of you.”

“G-give? You’re… y-you’re giving us t-test subjects?” Salvatore repeats dumbly, not certain he understood where this was going.

“Correct” Mother Miranda affirms. “This is easily the most successful batch of mutations we’ve seen to date, and given the amount of time and effort I poured into making sure these last 4 survived until now, I’d at least like to see some use gotten out of them before they die or suddenly lose control of their mutations and go rogue.”

“Like… l-like what?” The hooded man asks nervously.

Miranda merely shrugs her shoulders, uncaring. “Anything you like. Housekeeper. Playmate. Labrat. Partner in Crime. Whatever it is you desire of your gift, you may have without question. And in the event they refuse you… well, you’ll at least have a fun little toy to chase after for a little while.”

“I... see...” Salvatore says quietly, growing less and less excited about this whole “gift” thing, now that he knows that his gift is just another person.

Another person to scream and wail at how unbelievably hideous and disgusting of a monster he looks, no doubt.

Without another word, Miranda heads over to the large control table located in the middle of the room, pressing a few buttons before 4 of the many identical pods begin moving toward them. Steam pours out the tops and bottoms of the metal pods as the large capsules slowly finish lowering themselves from their hung pedestals, displaying them directly in front of Miranda and Salvatore.  The man in question stands anxiously in front of the still sealed door, nervously fidgeting with his fingers as he waits for Mother to show him his gift, a myriad of thoughts and fears and worries flying throughout the mutant man’s mind.

“The first 3 have already been chosen by your siblings, but the one on the far right is all yours” Miranda says, pushing another button that causes the singular pod in question to click open, its door slowly beginning to rise upward toward the ceiling.

Salvatore nods in understanding as he tries to avoid watching the door of the pod open, instead hyper focusing on what Miranda is saying as the tension in the room becomes so thick it feels as if it could be cut with a dull knife.

After what felt like an eternity and a half of waiting, the pod door finally finished opening, and in that exact moment, as the disfigured man’s gaze finally fell upon the sight of his gift for the first time, his eyes went wide in shock, his mouth dropped open in disbelief, and his hands fell limply to his side in complete and utter bewilderment at the sight that stood before him.

“That… th-that’s… for me?” Salvatore manages to croak out, his throat suddenly dry as a desert and the air from his lungs having left him the second before.

Raising his hand up toward the creature wired into the pod, the hooded man finds himself unable to look away, feeling almost mesmerized as his mind struggles to figure out whether all this is really happening, or if he’d finally succumbed to the insanity of his condition and dreamt all this up as a sick and twisted way of coping with his soul crushing loneliness. Either one was just as likely at this point.

“I’m sure you’ll still be quite pitiful on the day I have to leave, but at least this way you’ll have something to keep yourself occupied with until I return, yes?” Mother Miranda says smugly, clearly pleased by his reaction. “So, what do you think, Moreau? Do you like the gift I’ve gotten for you?”

It wasn't until after several moments of silence that Salvatore finally responded. After stuttering and slurring unintelligibly over several sentences worth of responses, 2 words, and 2 words alone, finally managed to tumble from the mutant man’s lips, his eyes shining as he finally reached forward enough to slowly and carefully intertwine his fingers with the small and delicate hand of the beautiful young woman that slept peacefully inside the pod.

“She’s perfect!”

[forthegothicheroine]

Stealing this book meme from @wormwoodandhoney, originally from booktubers! Feel free to steal it from me!

1. Best book you’ve read so far in 2021: In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado. What can I say about this book? I don’t read a whole lot of dark memoirs, but this true story of the author’s relationship with an abusive girlfriend is formatted by taking it through a million different literary and film genres, examining it through a million different lenses, pulling out the reader’s heart a million different ways.  It’s amazing.

The other favorite book I’ve read so far is A Libertarian Walks Into a Bear by Matthew Hongoltz-Hetling.  It’s also dark non-fiction, but this one reads like super-dark comedy, Stephen King by way of the Coen Brothers.  It’s about libertarians attempting to make their ideal community in an economically depressed Vermont town, exactly the same time a bunch of bears who may have had a brain-affecting parasite started invading.  My husband called it Bearoshock.

2. Best sequel you’ve read so far in 2021: Bright We Burn by Kiersten White. This was the final book in The Conqueror’s Saga, an alternate history about a female Vlad the Impaler.  While I (still) found the relationship with Mehmed a bit forced, this continued to present one of my all time favorite antiheroines, unlikeable and terrifying and very compelling.  I know very little about this history, which I imagine would make me like the book either more or less, but White really knows how to capture and keep my interest.

3. New release you haven’t read yet, but want to: Angel of the Overpass by Seanan McGuire, the final book in her Ghost Roads trilogy, my favorite of her many series.  Just ordered it!

4. Most anticipated release for the second half of the year: The Final Girl Support Group by Grady Hendrix.  I’ve already read multiple books with similar premises (Final Girls, We Are All Completely Fine) but I adore Grady Hendrix and I feel he’s wonderful with female protagonists and premises that are silly on the outside and very deep on the inside.  He’s an automatic buy for me.

5. Biggest disappointment: The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead.  This won the Pulitzer Prize, so it’s probably my fault for not getting it.  Still, I was baffled that you’d come up with a steampunk/magic realism concept about a literal railroad to freedom and then not actual do anything with the railroad.

6. Biggest surprise: The Decameron by Giovanni Boccaccio (translation by Wayne A. Rebhorn) is so much fun!  The stories are so bawdy and goofy and the narrator’s voice is really delightful.  Sympathetic to Jews, disdainful of the church and preoccupied with the idea of women being in their rights to seek out good times, it gave me a view of the kind of Renaissance personality I have never seen onscreen. Besides, tailoring stories to tell to friends during a plague is something I’ve been doing a lot in the past year or so, so I strongly identified.

7. Favorite new author. (Debut or new to you): Alyssa Cole.  Her romance novella Let it Shine was amazingly beautiful and painful and sexy and compulsively readable.  I have to check out her Loyal League series now!

8. Newest fictional crush: As above, Ivan Friedman from Let it Shine, a Jewish boxer and activist in 1960s Virginia full of passion and fight, committed to being the one who takes punches for other people.  But I wouldn’t want to take him away from Sofie, respectable black college girl turned Freedom Rider.

9. Newest favorite character: Jordan Baker from The Chosen and the Beautiful by Nghi Vo, a magical realist retelling of The Great Gatsby.  This Jordan is a Vietnamese adoptee, stylish and smart but forever an outsider, possessed of a magical talent exploited by her selfish best friend, in love with two weak-willed people, the only one who can see through to demonic souls even after it’s too late.  I got an ARC from work- look out for my official review!

10. Book that made you cry: Help at Any Cost by Maria Szalavitz.  Oof.  This is a scathing and horrifying and unfortunately page-turning expose of schools designed to break “troublesome” children into submission.  It’s a few decades old, but I can’t imagine this line of thinking and abuse has gone away.  (Side note: it inspire me to try and write a ghost story, which I can’t decide whether it might be in bad taste, but it’s the way I have to work out my feelings.)

11. Book that made you happy: Paperback Crush by Gabrielle Moss, an examination of the pre-Harry Potter ya books sold at scholastic fairs, meant for only a few uses.  I haven’t read most of them, but this made me feel like I was on a giddy sugar rush at a sleepover party, recommending and making fun of books with my friends.

12. Most beautiful book you’ve bought so far this year (or received): Through the Woods by Emily Carroll.  An eerie graphic novel collection of Carroll’s horror stories. illustrated in a deceptively simplistic but bone-chilling style.

13. What books do you need to read by the end of the year? The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid, partly because it looks amazing but also to justify impulse buying it when I already had too many unread books at home.