#I think we really should take away from this books that humans are good actually

[angrycatlovesfandoms]

I love the hunger games so much because they are terrible horrible situations i wouldnt want to be in. I empathize immensely with the characters and i come out of this stories feeling grateful for what I have.

there was a moment when the people in the movie theatre and the capitol audience in the stands were laughing at the same things, having the same reactions to the games, to the deaths, to flickermans jokes, to the doctor's announcement...i wonder aren't we watching it for entertainment too

suzanne collins' books may exist in popular culture as "dystopian", but they have always been a meticulous and startlingly close social critique of our world. at what point does our own idolization of the movies and the books repeat that story? we watch just as the capitol audience does.

all dystopia eventually crosses a line from realistic futurism to current relevancy. how long will it take us to realize we've already crossed that line with these books? and the very people who need to realize this are the ones in that audience...real or fake, we're the same: consuming and consuming.

[kalims]

⊹ giving them flowers

premise. no plot we are just giving them flowers cause guys deserve some too <3

content. fluff, mini scenarios, azul turns into a silly nerd (affectionate)

featuring. jamil, sebek, riddle, azul.

note. actually accidentally posted this yesterday and got a heart attack (also an actual consistent posting schedule...?)

jamil gives you a look.

he spares a long stare at the bouquet you clutch between your hands, wearing an awfully cheeky grin that's chipping off the scold in his throat. "how many times have I told you this?" he deadpans.

but from the obvious fact that you're holding it. it's not like jamil can do anything about it.

"you don't buy flowers for yourself," he says firmly. I'm supposed to be the one getting them for you. he would like to add.

"they're a waste of madol?" you tilt your head.

he answers immediately. "no, just—" jamil's eye twitches like he's trying his hardest to keep something. "don't,"

perhaps he's being a little too blunt but it makes him upset. is he really messing up in gift giving to the extent where you have to buy something for.. yourself? and jamil is pretty sure gifts are called as such for a reason.

and that they're from, or gifted to another person.

you chuckle in your fist, but he continues to ramble; "also it's hard to care for flowers when you don't know much, i don't want you to—"

"jamil hon, my baby, the apple of my eye, the love of my life, they're for you,"

you say simply, and watch in amusement when his moments stutter before they stop to a complete freeze.

a furious wave of heat crawls up on his back but he's praying frantically. now is not the time. he seethes.

... he just tripped over his words.

jamil reluctantly accepts the flowers after you've finished laughing your ass off, and the only thing in his mind is the love.

okay maybe he should pick up a book about caring for flowers. do they even survive in the harsh conditions of scarabia?

whatever he'll make it work.

you should've expected this.

despite your arm honestly starting to tremble under the stress of holding it out for about 2 minutes straight now, you still attempt a smile—although strained. wouldn't want sebek to find it an unfriendly gesture.

even though he probably already thinks that anyways.

you don't want to color sebek in a way that shows that his only personality is being suspicious to everyone, and of course. the dearest young master he adores. (seriously though it's a little concerning, and you're kinda jealous.)

sebek stares at the bouquet in your hand with scrutinizing eyes, as if to say non-verbally: 'what is this'.

you sigh when he just stares at it like it's a bomb. "it's flowers." you deadpan.

sebek pursues his lips, looks away before looking back. "I can see that!" he says like he wasn't wearing a face that made you think you had to explain. but he just crosses his arms and falls silent with a huff. "for the young master, yes?'

he pauses. "I can atleast acknowledge your gesture, human!"

was that supposed to be good? you weren't given the chance to explain because he continues again; "though I will have to make sure that these aren't anything the young master is allergic to." he nods to himself, as though proud for being so thoughtful.

your eye twitches. you're a little surprised that he didn't even imply that it could be possibly a bomb inside to try and assassinate them.. but you notice a slight tense-ness to his demeanor.

you know cause he's huffed about 5 times in the past 1 minute, he's looked away and he's very clearly sneaking peaks at your hand.

—then he huffs to himself! then it repeats.

"I will take them to the young master at once!" he announces with his loud volume, stepping forward to grab it from you but you ultimately beat him. you're just praying he doesn't find you 10x more suspicious the moment you had wrenched it back to yourself with surprising strength you didn't know you had.

even he looked surprised!

"no, sebek.." you heave. "they're not for malleus, they're for you."

he didn't have the heart to correct the way you addressed the young master before he dutifully exploded.

he's shaking away from you with a wobbling, agape mouth. he could only open and close them dumbly, not beir capable to let a word out.

you suppose he was too speechless because he didn't even say anything when you happily pushed the bouquet to his chest like nothing happened.

for someone who's most diligent in studying, you'd think riddle would be able to catch on easily on the gist of your actions.

but he just blinks when you hold out your hand. pretty gray eyes trained on the bouquet of red roses in your grasp, then onto your face with inquisitive question apparent with the raise of his brow.

"we have plenty of roses in our gardens." he says, as though like giving him... these is the most bizarre phenomenon in his life.

it seems like he feels the need to add. "we grow them."

you smile, the sweet thing awfully tight on your face. "they're for you," you explain. a little perturbed that you need to in the first place, but it's riddle so you sorta understand?

riddle squints. "why?"

you blank. "like... like a gift, for you? you know. cause I want to."

then as if the slowness of the processing going on in his brain gradually speeds up. it's obvious he's probably realized the implications of your little gift from the jolt, then widened eyes who stare in disbelief.

riddle gulps. "for, me?" he asks stupidly.

your raised brows say yes.

it's almost hilarious when he accepts them gratefully and stares at them like you just sprouted a literal white rose from the ground, wrapped it in some fancy plastic, and then handed it to him with a smile.

silence ensues again. riddle notices, screeches in his head to do something about it except he can't, cause his mind seems to be broken right now and he can't exert any words but a stammer.

and he'd really like to relearn how to speak because you're fidgeting on the spot, clearly nervous by his silence.

"sorry," you chuckle. "um.. it's just red roses, not white, or blue, or pink—"

"no!" he blurts out far too quickly. hands stretched out in the air a little as though reaching out to stop you but then stiffly staying by his side. riddle clears his throat. "I mean... this is... very important to me."

you look like you don't really believe him cause he was going off about roses in his dorm before.

he flushes, away from your gaze. "because its from you."

you can barely see azul.

or gauge out his reaction if it's supposed to be good or bad, because you can barely even see his eyes from all the sudden sheen of white over it. did all the smoke in the room just gravitate over his glasses conveniently or something?

you can spot the joints in his fingers twitching but oddly enough he remains stiff in front of you. uncharacteristically silent, which wouldn't really lead to good things.

"hello?" with your free hand, devoid of any flowers with the power of freezing a person. you wave it in front of his face which seems to have done a pretty good job with snapping him out of whatever trance he's in.

the glasses slip down the bridge of his nose but he fixes them at record speed. admittedly with clammy fingers.

azul coughs. "thank you very much." he clutches them tighter, pursuing his lips.

"I know octavinelle is not the best place for warmer places," he starts and a flash of confusion on your face is something he misses. "but I will manage it and find an accommodation for these, around 34 or 35 degrees."

your brows furrow. what.

"hmm yes... a nice vase, I'll use the most pure water there is." he rants. "then I'll fill it up with two thirds of its container and make sure it lives healthy."

that's... concerning.

"I'll have jade clean it regularly." he says and you're honestly more scared for the flowers. "I cannot trust floyd either so I'll trim it by two centimeters at the right angle occasionally when it dries."

he says all that, with a pink face.

you awkwardly stand there taking in azuls apparent plans on how to ensure the lifespan of your 'thoughtful' gift will be extended as far as he can help in to commerce your honor.

[viaviavie]

omg hiii !1!1!1! I saw your work for the first time about Perfect bargaining Jade and it was really silly and funny, the way you wrote it is omg— idk how to explain it but it’s really good !1!1!1

If so, since your requests are open. Can you do silver x reader ?1?1? AHHH— you don’t have do this of course, if so then I’ll really appreciate it…!!

For this one, erm… reader is trying to give hints to Silver who’s completely oblivious to it, and Lilia has to step in and help his oblivious son, maybe includes the animal too bc they love the sleepy knight 🤫🤫

Please also take care of yourself , author! Take as much time as you need :333

ngl, i saw this ask 5 minutes after it was sent and jumped for it— i am clearly in the mood for silver, and book 7 has me whipped so so bad AAAAA thank you for the lovely compliments! i hope i served this one well :)

in which the members of diasomnia bestow blessings upon the prefect who is desperately trying to convey feelings to an oblivious silver. PAIRINGS: silver x reader (ft. supportive diasomnia) WARNINGS: characters are depicted as 18+, suggestive content for the third blessing NOTES: i took a look at sleeping beauty for some inspiration. referencing the three gifts bestowed by the fairy godmothers, i thought it would be funny to cast our diasomnia members as wingmen for silver. i hope it's still just as enjoyable!

What was meant to be Lilia's business, eventually became Sebek's and Malleus's business too when the former beckoned them over to that small couch in the Diasomnia dorm. With your head buried into your hands, you hoped to conceal the light blush on your cheeks as you hoped to recant your most recent concern. Of course Lilia would ask the other two to come over, they were your friends too, after all. Luckily for you, your actual problem was likely asleep somewhere on the campus, far away from where you were now.

Lilia's lips were curled into a bat-like grin as he called your name. "What troubles you, my child?" He asks, as if he had forgotten about what you had told him the first time. Still burying your face in your hands, you resist the urge to whine in embarrassment. Sebek glares at you, arms crossed with such impatience. "Speak up, human! You should be grateful that Master Lilia and the Young Master have taken their time to graciously lend their aid in your concerns."

Snapping from your pitiful state, you bit back at Sebek with a weak glare of your own. "I like Silver, okay!" That definitely shuts the half-fae up when he freezes, taken aback by your sudden declaration. Malleus hums in amusement, smiling at your flustered expression. Lilia could only chuckle as he pats your back, sympathy evident in his smile. "There we go! That wasn't so hard, was it?"

You fall silent for a moment, giving Lilia a deadpanned stare.

"You knew the entire time, didn't you?"

"My child, do tell me who would go out of their way to spend time with Silver even with his sleeping conditions. You've spent almost an entire day with him while he was off in the land of dreams!"

Sebek chokes on air from the side, fingers gripping the edges of the couch to the point his face is beeting red. "You fancy Silver?!" You roll your eyes at his theatrics, drawing your attention to how peaceful Malleus appeared. The Briar Prince nods, his smiling growing with each thought processed through his mind. "I do think they make a very nice match. Wouldn't you say so, Lilia?"

"Indeed! The Prefect has been sweet to Silver, and such is the fruit of those affections." Lilia swooned, far too engrossed in his own joy to notice how you have slumped yourself over the couch. You let out a groan, shaking your head into hands. "I've been at it for weeks now, Lilia. There is never a right time to confess, and I can't even tell if he's interested back!"

A pair of gloved hands envelop yours, and Lilia pulls them down to flash his fangs into a grin. "Fret not, Prefect! There is a way to help Silver find some clarity in the matters of the heart!" He gushed excitedly, and it sends a shiver of concern down your spine. Surely, if Lilia's planning was just as eccentric as his cooking, something was bound to go wrong.

"Have you ever heard of the Great Three Patrons of True Love?" You furrow your brows at Lilia's question, shaking your head. "There's a Great Three Patrons of True Love?" You queried. Lilia throws his head back into laughter. "But of course! We have the Great Seven, but there are other legendary figures renown for blessing the world of romance." He sighs dreamily. Your face only further contorts into confusion, all the more puzzled by Lilia's scheming.

"How exactly are they going to help my feelings get through to Silver?"

"The Great Three Patrons? Not exactly,"

Lilia turns behind him, beckoning a hand in a gesturing motion. "Sebek! Malleus!" He enthused, mischief flashing behind his eyes. You could only gulp as Sebek prostrates himself, followed by Malleus's devilish smile.

"We have a job to do, boys!"

It is dusk when Sebek singlehandedly drags you to the woods behind the campus. You don't even get a response as he marches down the rock path, finally halting once you both stand at the boardwalk that stands before the mouth of a lagoon. "My gift shall be the gift of a romantic boat ride through a quiet stream!" You wince slightly at the volume of his tone, but the fish surrounding the area had seemingly swam away almost immediately at his booming voice.

"Sebek, are you sure this is gonna work?" You whispered, observing as the half-fae puffed up his chest with pride. "Of course! And we don't need to take your voice to make this plan work." You rub the back of your head, wondering where you have seen this scene before. "All you have to do, Prefect, is be yourself and let the ride take its course!" You stare at the boat, seemingly ignorant to the sound of clothes rustling beside you.

"Isn't this just a date?" You question, turning to Sebek for confirmation. Instead, your jaw drops with disbelief at the pile of clothes at your feet. Rather than his school uniform, the half-fae was dressed head-to-toe in scuba diving gear, followed by the wetsuit.

"Just a date? No, it is not just a date, Prefect." Sebek smirks at you, committed to his mission. "This shall be the most romantic venture of the decade!"

At the slight rustling of the grass coming from behind, Sebek immediately readies himself for a quick sprint. "Here he comes, Prefect! I will be lurking in the background for assistance!" Before you could even question the plan, he has scampered into a nearby bush with his clothes in tow. You barely get a moment to recompose yourself when you hear your name from a distance.

Turning around, your eyes land upon Silver who had paused at your side. He glances down at you with a gentle expression. "Prefect, you're here." He rubs the back of his head, tilting himself to the boat sitting in the water. "I was told that you needed to observe the wildlife here for an assignment from Professor Trein."

"I do?" Confusion contorts your expression, and you only grow more confused as you struggle to recall an assignment of sorts. Silver nods. "Yes. Sebek told me that he was supposed to help you across the lagoon, but he is currently occupied by his duties to Malleus." You take a quick look at the rustling bush below, only to give Silver an embarrassed smile. What kind of excuse is this, Sebek!?

"Right! I'm really sorry for dragging you out here. I'm sure you have other things to do." Silver shakes his head, his expression softening at your words. "No, it is my pleasure to accompany you, Prefect. I do like spending time with you." Even for such simple platonic words, your heartbeat quickens and you swallow to yourself with quiet laugher. "Can you row a boat?" You found yourself asking as Silver lowers himself onto the rowboat, reaching out his hand for you to take.

"I've learned how to row a boat while I lived in Briar Valley. Father would sometimes take me fishing as a form of enrichment, he says."

His grip is firm, yet gentle as you take an uncertain step into the wooden contraption. Both of you heave a sigh of relief as you are settled onto your seat, sharing smiles together.

You immediately take notice at the way Silver's muscles flex through his uniform as he took the oars and began pushing. He made it seem so easy, and the fact that he faced you— Shit, he's facing you! Once that realization hits you, your gaze is immediately shifting everywhere but his face. Through your peripherals, however, you swear that he is looking at you.

Your throat is as dry at the mermaid from the tale, and you are rendered speechless. By the time the sun has barely set, Silver hums to catch your attention. "It is a beautiful evening, don't you think so, Prefect?" By the light of the glowing firelies that had come to play, followed by the soft chatter of the freshwater residents in the lagoon, you take the time to marvel at the scenery. Perhaps Sebek's excuse does make sense, considering a lot of wildlife were active at this hour.

You want to say something, but you could only muster a shy nod as you finally brave yourself to look at the student across from you. He catches you into his stare, and now you were merely captive to his gaze. Just as difficult as it was to look at him, it was even harder to look away.

Silver had stopped rowing now, allowing the boat to float along the lagoon. Elbows resting on his knees, he is almost observing you like a specimen while you shift and squirm with that shy expression on your face.

And meanwhile, Sebek is cursing at you as he quietly surfaces from the water to breathe. The Prefect is never going to say a word at this rate! His eyes narrow with determination, his body barely floating among the water plants and the ducks as he takes a deep breath.

"There's your moment, floating in a blue lagoon..."

Both you and Silver pause, sharing the same confused look as the melodic timber bounces across the water. You certainly know what is causing that sound, but judging by the look on Silver's face, he was rather puzzled by its concise melody.

"Do you hear that?"

Before you could reply, a breeze hits your face and causes you to shiver from the cold. Curse your memory, you seemed to have forgotten your jacket at the dorm before Sebek had dragged you out for his escapade. Being the gentleman, Silver notices and he is suddenly alert as he shifts himself to the side. "You're cold, Prefect. Come and sit with me," He calls out gently, holding out his hand for you to take.

A sigh leaves your lips as you smile at him, taking his careful hand as he guided you to the space beside him. You do not miss the way his hand is wrapped against your waist, keeping you balanced and upright. Your eyes widened as he began to shimmy himself out of his jacket, and the protests ready on your lips die quickly as he places the garment over your shoulders. "I do not want you to catch a cold, Prefect."

He is close, and you can feel the warmth of his torso as he shifts closer to you now. You cannot hold back the satisfied sigh that leaves your lips, and you do not notice the way Silver smiles faintly at your peaceful expression.

"Boy, you better do it soon. No time would be better,"

Silver pauses slightly at the voice, but ignores it in favor of your attention. "The stars are bright tonight, Prefect. Would you like to watch them for a short while?" The suggestion takes you by surprise, and you barely catch Silver's face as he leans back, gesturing to a flat surface on the boat. Still, something urges you to lower yourself as he does, resting your head on his muscled forearm.

A surprised gasp leaves your lips as you stare at the sky, and Silver's breath is taken away by your awed expression. There is a certain content in his heart as he watches you stare, and you do not even notice the way he stares back at you.

"... won't say a word until you..."

It takes some time until you look back at Silver, once more held prisoner by his stare. He doesn't even realize that you have caught him staring this time, and continues to memorize your features and your soft smile. He should have questioned your silence a long time ago, but it is out of his mind as you relax onto his arm. Silver shifts closer, searching for something, whether it was warmth, or more of you.

"Come on and kiss the—!"

Alas, the moment is ruined when four teal arms loudly slammed against the boat.

Silver is immediately put on his guard, forcing himself up and gripping the oar as if it were a makeshift blade. His other arm is positioned across your figure, as if protecting you from whatever was in front of the boat. You are equally as startled, and the first sound you make this evening is a squeak. You stare in the darkness, immediately taking notice of two sets of mismatched eyes.

"Loooook, it's Shrimpy and Jellyfish!"

Almost flipping the boat over with his weight, Floyd surfaces from the water and waves at you with a toothy grin. His twin, on the other side, gives a cordial smile. "Jade! Floyd!" You cried out, flustered by their sudden appearance. "What in the world are you both doing here?" You asked in an exasperated tone, your hand clutching onto the other oar tightly.

Your frustration only serves to amuse the more composed twin. "Octanivelle students tend to come here for a swim. Floyd and I were here for a short exercise." The eel hummed, followed by the amused cackles of the other brother. "You should have told us you were both here! Jade and I would have been happy to propel you both to the other side!" The idea is unwelcomed as you and Silver immediately attempt to row the boat away.

"No thank you, we were just—" Your words were immediately cut off by the slightest sound of static coming from afar. All heads turn towards the direction of the noise, and you could only hide your face into your palms.

It is Sebek, dressed in the glory of his wetsuit, pointing his pen at the two eels. "AWAY RAPSCALLIONS!"

The threat is not lost on the two eels. "Ack, it's the Crocodile!" Floyd groans as Jade merely smiles, his attention caught by something else entirely. The twins splash back into the water to seemingly deal with the disturbance, and you could only stare at a confused Silver.

"We should start rowing." You murmur.

"Yes, we should." He replies with understanding.

It does not take long for you to be taken aside by Malleus this time. After that episode at the lagoon, you had heard that Sebek returned to Lilia bawling at his failure to fulfill his mission. He had even apologized to you himself for how poorly that plan went, and had spent the entire day moping over it. Needless to say, the mission to make Silver realize his feelings was a team effort to be shared.

And there you were, dressed in a fencing uniform from head to toe, your face obscured by a fencing mask that obscured your features. Malleus stands before you, arms crossed with a confident smirk on his face. "My gift shall be the gift of a dance. Such love may be realized through a mystery, just as a scullery maid found love at a ball she was never meant to attend."

But this was not a ball, by your understanding. You were heading out to spar with Silver after Lilia had claimed to have found a good partner to practice with. Rather, Silver does not know it would be you that he would be sparring with today.

You sheepishly rub the back of your head, averting your gaze from the fae. "I can duel, but I don't think my skills are enough to impress him." Malleus shakes his head in disagreement, taking upon the blade in your hands onto his own. "I do not think that would be the case, Child of Man. Your skills are adequate and for a time, I shall grant onto you this blessing."

With a swift movement, his arm dances across the blade. You watch in awe as the blade shimmers and glows for a slight moment before fading away. Malleus lets out a noise of satisfaction before returning the rapier to your hand. "This shall give you a bit of a... 'boost', as some people call it." A smile is brought across your lips as you playfully swing the sword at a fake opponent.

"Thank you, Malleus!"

"The blessing shall wear out, just as the maid's magic enchantments have faded away at midnight. Alas, she was still very much able to win over the prince's heart in that tale. I shall not have you wear a glass slipper, but the art of the sword shall suffice." Malleus smiles as your name is called out from afar, signaling your entrance to the courtyard nearby.

"Now, run along, Child of Man. I wish you great luck." You could only send a nod to Malleus followed by a quick thanks as you hurry yourself to the courtyard. Silver and Lilia are already there, and the student merely looks at you with respect.

As you approach, Silver holds out his hand as a greeting. You shake hands, and bow slightly. "Thank you for having me today." You nod in acknowledgement, glancing at Lilia to fill in the words for you. The bat-like fae chuckles, patting Silver's back. "Our fighter here is rather shy. I'm sure that translates to 'I hope we have a good match'!" Lilia snickers before he backs away, leaving you both to take your positions at the center of the courtyard.

You have dueled before, even joined Silver for some sparring lessons in the past. Even Sebek himself has admitted that you did surprisingly well for a human from such a normal background. Malleus had provided you confidence in that moment, and with this enchanted blade, you are certain that you can catch Silver's heart with the blade.

"Begin!"

You play the game as you would, waiting for your opponent to strike. You know Silver very well, especially after observing him for so long. He is not the type to strike first— that would certainly give an opponent the advantage to parry. And so, you do not make a move either, keeping a distance. Silver had to make the first move, and you must parry.

And as predicted, he makes the move with a swift swing of the sword that you block perfectly. However, it is easier to push back now rather than allow his weight to knock you back. The enchantments on the rapier allow you to push back with ease in spite of your physical abilities, forcing Silver to stagger. His eyes are narrowed with precise calculation as he swings again, to which you parry once more before swiping at him.

It is a dangerous dance, indeed. You respond to each swipe of the blade he sends you, dodging and lunging. Had it not been for the enchantment, you are certain that you would have collapsed onto the floor out of exhaustion. Silver is sweating, and it does not take long for him to lose his footing once you sweep you leg at his feet.

He falls, but he drags you down with him when his hand takes your sleeve and tugs you onto the grass. Before you knew it, the blade is out of your hands and you are suddenly trapped by the weight of the silver-haired boy on top of you. Silver straddles your hips, restraining your wrists above your head as you kick and squirm against his hold. Alas, you are weaponless and now, defenseless.

With a groan of defeat, you concede and cease your struggles. Silver pants and hums to himself, pleased with the outcome. He pulls away and returns to his feet, holding out his hand for you to take once more.

"Good work, Prefect."

You gasp out a sigh of relief as you tear away the fencing mask, revealing your face drenched with sweat. "Hey, Silver..." You smile tiredly as you take his welcome hand to pull yourself off the ground. "You played very well today." He acknowledged, lips quirked up slightly into a smile.

You beam at him with delight. "Thank you, Silver! Although, it was really just the rapier. Malleus blessed it early with his magic." You pause in your movements, looking at him with a surprised expression. "How'd you know it was me?" You stammered, and your heart skips another beat as Silver takes your wrist into his hand.

"You maneuver your wrist like this. Your grip tends to be loose, and your footing is always slightly shifted onto the right." You blink to yourself, amazed. You never did think that Silver had observed you enough to a point where he had grown familiar with your movements. Thankfully, you can blame the heat for your reddening cheeks. "Is that so?" You murmur in wonder, and your companion only nods.

Silver faces you, letting go of your wrist as it falls back to your side. He averts his gaze, almost shyly. "Would you like to spar with me again? I wouldn't want to keep you from any other obligations." Your heart melts at how quiet his tone was, as if he were hoping to keep a secret. You are glowing, and he carefully etches your beaming expression into his memory while you nod enthusastically.

"Of course! Let's go grab some water first!"

"I shall accompany you, Prefect."

Meanwhile, Malleus observes from behind a pillar in thought. "I see," He murmurs to himself, a content smile flashing across his features.

"I suppose the Prefect's skills were the glass shoes after all."

It was not an odd occurrence to trail after Silver at the end of the day. The act of walking your friend back to his dorm is unfortunately as platonic as it ever was. You swear it is to make sure he doesn't fall onto the floor if he decides to fall asleep mid-step, but really, you simply enjoy his company, as he does yours. Unfortunately for you, it's grown too difficult to tell whether Silver's feelings towards you are purely platonic or if there was something more than that.

You doubt you will find your answer today as Sebek drags the sleeping beauty to his dorm. You are collapsed onto the couch as you were a week prior when you came to Lilia seeking his guidance. Speak of the devil, the bat-like fae is blinking down at you with an eager grin.

"There is still one more blessing that we have yet to bestow upon you." You hope it is not a magic carpet ride. It would be really bad if Silver fell asleep in the middle of the air, and you are certain that a bat cannot outfly a magic carpet from Scarabia. You were rather unwilling to turn into a frog, and the last thing you wanted to do is be thrown into a war dressed like a soldier to gain Silver's affections. You were desperate, but not that desperate.

"You better have some grand master plan for this, Lilia." You uttered, sitting up from the couch. Lilia chuckles, and the sweet scent of cocoa hits your nose. "Nothing proactive, I assure you!"

That's odd. Delicious and Lilia are two words that one can never use in the same sentence.

Immediately, your face grows pale at the sight of a green mug in Lilia's hands. You immediately back yourself onto the couch, ready to bolt for the door at the slightest hint of food poisoning. "Lilia, what in the world did you put in this mug?" You ask a bit too hastily, and the older man only laughs at your reaction.

"Three tablespoons of Sam's Nocturne Chocolate delight and warm milk, my dear! I would have loved to add in some more ingredients to enhance its taste, but it seems that the dorm's pantry is empty once again."

The world takes a collective sigh of relief, and as do you as you gingerly take the mug into your hands. It is warm to the touch, but far from scalding. Lilia bows slightly, smiling at your relaxed figure. "My gift shall be the gift of the sweetest of dreams. It shall suffice for now."

He stays as he watches you take a hesitant sip, but to his delight, you immediately consume the drink in a few gulps. Returning the mug to his possession, you smile after wiping away at your lips with your sleeve. "Thanks, Lilia." Perhaps this was the right approach, and a good night's sleep could bring you some clarity on how to confess to Silver. Maybe you were just meant to confess to him yourself in the end, rather than wait for him to understand your feelings on his own.

Lilia pats your head with an assuring grin, but oddly enough, there is a hint of mischief behind his eyes that makes you feel a bit uneasy.

"Hurry back to your dorm, my dear! You'd best find a bed as it gets dark!"

It isn't ever so often that Silver sees himself in a dream. Most dreams that he slips into often concerned other people. He has seen Ace dream of a tyrannical Riddle chaining said student to his desk to finish his homework. There was an instance where Silver hid with Leona to escape the notorious hunter from Pomefiore. Silver has also spent a handful of dreams watching Jamil make a mockery out of poor Kalim in his power-driven fantasies. Maybe once, he has seen himself in a few dreams concerning his own dorm members, but this was the first time he had ever waltzed into yours.

He had followed your dream-like figure into the heart of the forest, stalking quietly within the shadows. A part of him knew that it was unnecessary to make such an effort to leave your dream undisturbed, considering that most people do not remember those dreams once they wake.

And yet, he cannot help but play the role of the knight tonight. Even when you are only dressed in your sleepwear, the light of the moon slipping through the trees tells of your beauty.

He wonders where you are going, what you sought in these woods. You appear secretive, constantly taking glances back as if you knew you were being followed. Hiding amongst the trees and the foliage, Silver maintains the secret unbeknownst to you. When you finally pause, the moonlight is cast over another figure now and Silver's eyes are wide with shock.

An imitation of him stands before you now, dressed in prince-like regalia. The fake smiles at you who merely croons at the touch of its hand against your cheek. "I'm not supposed to speak to strangers," You breath out and Silver is frozen behind the tree that hides his figure, unable to turn away as the imitation takes your hand, the other around your waist.

"—but we have met before." It murmured, commencing the start of the dance as he hums a tune native to Briar Valley.

Something stirs within Silver's chest as he watches you smile so endearingly at his imitation. If this was your dream, this manifestation of him was certainly your doing. Only then do the events of the recent week crash down on him like Deuce's pots, hammering each implication further down his throat at a time. Even beyond the strange doings of his dormmates, it answers enough of your own behaviors as well.

Had he really been that oblivious to his own heart as well?

And so, when the fake finally releases you into a spin, Silver takes no chances to leave the shadows and replace his fake who continues to hum from afar.

Your eyes were fluttered shut when you feel a set of hands intertwine with your own. A breath brushes against your ear, the faint scent of the briar roses flooding your senses. "Prefect," Your eyes snap awake from alarm, startled by the voice. Someone was still humming, and that prince-like version of Silver barely smiles at you before dissipating into the moonlight.

Still, there are a pair of hands clasping yours. You immediately turn, and your heart stops at the sight of Silver boring his eyes onto yours. "Ah—!" It is instinct to immediately pull away, but he doesn't let you. He holds onto an arm, and leans himself forward towards you with that soft gaze. He is nothing but soft with you, rather than stern and withdrawn as some others would describe him to be.

Silver is smiling at you, almost in an assuring manner. "I'm sorry, Prefect. I didn't mean to startle you." His words are just as honeyed as he was, and it threatens to reel you back into his chest. And you do, lulled in by the pale moonlight that emphasized his auroral gaze. You aren't shy as you were during the day, he notes to himself. There is still some hesitancy in your eyes as you are pressed against his chest, a hand trailing over his chest up to his clavicle.

He returns the gesture as he lowers his head to your ear. "Is it true, Prefect?" Silver murmured, and all it does it send shivers down your spine. "What is?" You seek for more, but he does not give it to you. You liken him to a true knight who had sworn oaths as he acts as your wall, for you to lean onto but to never cave in. You want him to cave, to collapse, to crumble onto you, and he knew it. "That you long for my heart," He breaths out, and you feel a hand snake up your back to play with the ends of your hair.

You peer up at him with glossy eyes, obscured by this dreamy-like haze. "And what if I do?" You whispered, oddly overcome by a sense of bravado. Silver continues to look down at you, allowing his free hand to cup your cheek.

"Then I would be the greatest fool to have never known to reciprocate them sooner." Your breath hitches as Silver stares you down, and you find your own hands gripping the collar of his dress shirt. "Forgive my obliviousness, Prefect. I will do anything to earn your heart properly." A true servant Silver was, even more so to the whims of his own heart.

Certainly, he felt even weaker when you tug him closer to you. "Anything?" In turn, he finds himself restraining his own hand from crashing your lips against his own. It was almost as if all tension that he hadn't noticed before had begun to pound at his brain. Certainly, this had to be vengeance for everything you had to put up with since you fell for him for the first time.

"Show me what you truly feel, Silver."

He wastes no time in pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. It is soft, gentle as he always was with you. With all the benevolence of a prince, Silver does not immediately pull away. With his eyes fluttered shut, he molds himself into your shape with the most careful of presses, taking in your bottom lip between his own.

If he remained there any longer, he is certain to entrap you. Silver knows himself well enough to know that he was far from a prince. He was weak, and knows that you can easily abuse that weaknesses with merely a glance. His silver eyes are trained onto yours, and eventually, remain fixated onto your now rosy lips. How he feels even weaker when your arms wrap his neck, pulling him down towards you again.

It takes a moment for him to realize that perhaps, you most definitely suited Night Raven College for how wicked you could be sometimes.

"Show me again, please."

And how could he ever say no to you?

Silver knows what you are looking for when you are the one to drag him close, to press yourself against him this time as if you were the one making a demonstration. That is not to say he dislikes it, not with the way he hungrily gasps into your mouth without any thought to leave.

"Silver," He whispers your name in return before he manages to find his way back to your lips, lost in the way your hands had entangled themselves into his hair. You tug even harder when he attempted to pull away for air, and he groans. In the short moment his eyes open, he finds himself challenged by the amount of force you are using on him. Finding enjoyment in this struggle of power, he flexes his muscles as he envelops you into his arms, pushing you again and again until he wrestled the control from your hands.

Backed against a tree, Silver continues to steal your breaths as he towers and gently prompts you downwards. He does not even realize that the first few buttons of his dress shirt have already been buttoned, and you had found yourself leeching onto his warmth by snaking your hand across his shoulders. The other is holding his own now, guiding it to your waist and you are on the verge of begging for more and more.

You cannot help but whine when he pulls away, breaking away from your greedy whims to keep him against your lips. The way his leg is wedged in between your own is calculated, and Silver smiles victoriously at your entrapment. Still, he is far from arrogant and he dares to press a sweet kiss against your cheek before he moves towards your ear.

"You know my heart, Prefect." He murmurs, his teeth barely brushing against the shell of your ear. "You know it, once upon a dream."

And it ends with a sharp ray of sunlight filtering in through the window, and the sound of Grim crying for you to awaken from slumber.

Your ears are still glowing red from the faint memory of last night's dream. You cannot exactly recall what brought about that fantasy, let alone how fresh the dream still burns into your mind. It lingers in your mind as you sit in Trein's class. It still lingers as you grovel through Crewel's potion demonstrations, and it definitely hasn't left after you find yourself lost in the forest behind the campus. You never truly registered that you missed a turn to head to Ramshackle, not while you attempt to recall the way Silver's breath felt down your neck.

Much to your sadness, it was only a dream to feed your delusions. This crush of yours was bound to drive you insane if you did not take care of it and confess to him soon.

That was if you ever got out of the forest. Grim just had to be stuffing himself full of tuna at the mess hall, but at least he wouldn't be making fun of you for being so absentminded.

You were probably going to make it out alive. There were more than enough people on campus who would easily find you. There was the beastmen and their keen noses, not to mention Rook who seemed to be scarily good at tracking down people. You sigh to yourself, running a hand through your hair.

It'd be nice if Silver was the one who rescued you instead.

"Prefect," Speaking of which, you could easily detect his voice among a crowd. Immediately washing off your flustered disposition, you turn around and grin at the silver-haired student who was making his way through a bush. "Silver!" Your voice is cheery, almost as if you weren't having a complete meltdown over a dream. "What brings you here?"

You immediately take notice of Silver's companions; a bird perched on his finger, followed by a squirrel, a skunk, and a young deer at his leg. "A few friends told me that a friend was in need of rescuing." You chuckle nervously, rubbing the back of your head. Suddenly, maybe being found by Rook was a lot better than dying of embarrassment in front of your crush. Nonetheless, spending time with Silver was always better than dying in a corner of your room just because your feelings refused to be known.

"I suppose I did get lost." You stammer before beaming at him, seemingly relieved by the prospect of being found. "—but you came to rescue me! My savior!" You comically gasp, feigning the appearance of a damsel in distress. Silver chuckles at your theatrics, allowing the animals to disperse into the forests before he stepped closer to you. "I'd rather it be me than anyone else, really." The implication is lost on you as you laughed nervously, lightly jabbing his arm in jest.

"Careful there, Silver. You're starting to sound like a prince from the tales."

You pause as Silver takes another step closer, almost tethering the borders of your own personal bubble. "There is a famous tale known in Briar Valley. Are you familiar with the Tale of the Sleeping Princess?" You look at him, perplexed by that little glint in his eye that reminds you of Lilia. "I've heard variations of it." You breathed out.

"You must be aware that she was cursed into a deep sleep. To break the curse, she must be given a kiss of true love." You should be nervous, but oddly enough, this sense of closeness felt natural. You nod in acknowledgement before shrugging in your confusion. "A prince woke her up, didn't he? But they have never met before, and she chose to wed him at the end of the story."

There is a knowing smile on Silver's face as he hummed in agreement. "I'd say that they had met before, just as we had."

Before you can even decide to die of embarrassment on the spot, he had already closed the gap as he did once before. Silver gentle hand had brushed against your cheek, and his long hair tickles your skin as he lowers himself to your ear.

"And you know my heart," He murmurs so quietly, but it sends flutters into your chest nonetheless. You croon into his palm, sighing softly before rising to your toes. "From where?" You ask him, and he swiftly leans downwards to lay upon a gentle kiss onto your lips for the first time.

"Once upon a dream."

[yuu-kantokusei]

Valentine's Day❤️

First year version

Characters: Ace, Deuce, Jack, Epel, Sebek

TW: cute, fluff, wholesome

♥️Ace Trappola

Ace isn't one for grand romantic gestures, but he also wants to make the day special in his own way. He teases you all morning, pretending to have forgotten about Valentine's Day, only to surprise you with an impromptu date at the Heartslabyul garden.

He smirks, holding out a box behind his back. "Oh? You actually thought I’d forget? How could I, when you’ve been blushing at every couple we passed today?"

Inside the box is a mix of chocolates—some gourmet, some oddly shaped—and a single playing card, the Ace of Hearts, with "Trappola’s Special Valentine" written on it.

"You better treasure that! That card’s got sentimental value, y’know." he says, grinning but looking away slightly, as if embarrassed.

Afterward, he takes you to play some games at the fair stalls set up by different dorms, winning a stuffed animal for you (after losing a few rounds first, much to his frustration). The day ends with Ace casually throwing an arm around your shoulder, laughing at how "lucky" you are to have him.

♠️Deuce Spade

Deuce spends weeks planning for Valentine’s Day, even getting advice from Trey and Riddle. On the big day, he shows up at your door, nervously shifting from foot to foot, holding a carefully wrapped box of homemade chocolates.

“I—I made these myself! Trey-senpai supervised, so they should be good. I hope…”

Inside the box, the chocolates are heart-shaped but slightly uneven, showing how hard he worked on them. There’s also a little handwritten note, written with intense concentration, saying:

"Thank you for being my precious friend. You make my days brighter. Please accept this small gift."

Afterward, he takes you for a motorcycle ride through a scenic route outside the academy, making sure you hold on tightly. At the highest point, they stop and watch the sunset together, his face turning red as he quietly mutters, "I’m really glad we met."

🐺Jack Howl

Jack isn’t one for sappy holidays, but he recognizes that Valentine’s Day is important, so he makes an effort. He finds a small but meaningful gift—a handcrafted leather bracelet with a wolf charm attached, something practical yet symbolic.

When he gives it to you, he scratches his ear, looking away. “This is… uh, something to remind you that I’ve got your back. Always.”

Instead of a traditional date, Jack takes you on a morning jog with him, where they share a quiet but peaceful time together. Later, he surprises you with a picnic under a large tree, bringing some homemade sandwiches and fruit.

As you eat happily, he watches you with a soft expression, muttering under his breath, “You should smile like that more often.”

If you tease him about it, his tail wags despite his flustered protests.

🍎Epel Felmier

Epel, despite his usual complaints about being treated as ‘cute,’ fully embraces the romance of Valentine’s Day. He invites you to a surprise horseback ride around Pomefiore’s flower fields, where he guides you gently through the scenic landscape.

At the end of the ride, he pulls out a small wooden box with a beautifully carved apple pendant inside. "I made this myself," he says proudly. "It’s apple wood from my family’s orchard. So even when you’re not with me, you’ll have a piece of my home with you."

They spend the evening watching the stars, sharing stories from their childhood. At one point, Epel, thinking you have dozed off, whispers softly, “I wish we could spend every Valentine’s like this…”

Little does he know, you heard him and smiled.

⚡️Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek insists that Valentine's Day is an insignificant human tradition, but deep down, he takes it very seriously when it involves you. He prepares a dramatic, formal speech about your “importance” in his life but keeps getting flustered halfway through.

“Ahem! I— I wish to bestow upon you a token of my— No, that’s not right! CURSES!"

Eventually, he simply hands you a carefully wrapped book—a rare edition of a famous knight’s tale. “This story… It’s about loyalty and strength. You remind me of the hero.”

Despite his usual loudness, he spends the day unusually gentle, guiding you through a serene walk near Diasomnia’s quiet gardens. By the end of the day, he clears his throat, trying to look serious.

“You—You are truly exceptional, And… I shall protect you for all eternity!” His face turns red as he abruptly storms off, embarrassed.

[ineffable-suffering]

Why Aziraphale is an unreliable narrator

Part 1: The Story of Job

I'm absolutely not the first one to talk about this on here and I probably shan't be the last either. Alas, here's my take on why all of the minisodes in Season 2 should be enjoyed with great care – and taken with a grain of angelic salt.

I'm gonna split this into 3 parts, aka the three minisodes we are shown, since I tend to get a bit waffley in my posts and want to still be able to include all the little details. Once I've written them, I'll link Part 2 & Part 3 here as well!

Alright, let's get into it under the cut of doom.

Episode 2 opens with the Story of Job. Right off the bat, I noticed that it sort of looks like an old film playing. At first I didn't read that much into it, but once we see the cut-away to Aziraphale at the bookshop, currently reading that part of the Bible (presumably), I immediately thought: "Oh! It's because it's his memory. He's remembering how it went down and therefore it plays like a figurative film in his head."

This, I then came to realize, is a very crucial difference to all the flashbacks of S1, which were exclusively told and narrated by God. May her intensions be as ineffable as they are: She did tell us all of these stories from an objective outsider's point of view. Now, however, it's Aziraphale who's re-telling those stories to us from memory.

And if there's one thing that's for certain, it's that a memory is something entirely different to an objective narration of a story. Just think about how you yourself remember things. Especially things that happened years, maybe even decades (or, in an angel's case, millenia) ago. What is it, that you really remember? Can you know for sure, that a conversation was held with those exact words? Are you 100% certain that the clothes someone wore weren't different? Had it really been snowing or would that make very little sense given what you're remembering happened in May? And did it even happen in May? Or does that just happen to be your favourite month, the current weather, your preferred style of clothing and what it was that you would imagine someone would have said to you?

What I'm trying to say is: The further away it is that something happened, the more your brain has to fill in the gaps. This is why, for example, your parents will remember the family summer holiday entirely different when you ask them about it 20 years later.

"No, it was Sarah who puked on the car ride home!" "Nonsense, Sarah never puked as a child. Bobby had that gone-off pizza, he's the one that was sick the whole ride long!"

We've all been there. Bobby made it out alive. Don't buy gas station pizza.

Alright, back to the plot: Naturally, Aziraphale is not actually human, so it is a pure assumption on my part that the way his memory works is similar to ours. However, the whole topic of "memory" is actually quite a recurring one on Good Omens.

Crowley seems to have lost his in the Fall, yet somehow managed to get most of it back. Not all of it, though, he clearly has some major gaps ("You used to jump on me back, little monkey in the waistcoat!"). Beelzebub helps Gabriel store all his memories in their little fly container before they get wiped entirely too, by the Metatron and/or Saraqael. Crowley and Aziraphale (and possibly Jimbriel) perform a miracle together that makes everyone in Heaven and Hell forget who Garbiel is or what he looks like. And we know that the Book of Life apparently has the ability to completely erase someone from existence – ergo also erasing them from everyone's memory and making it is as though the person had never been in them at all.

So, clearly, angels and demons being able to remember, forget, reconstruct and, if you're the Metadork, wipe memories, is very much canon. Apart from that very last one, it does make them quite human-like in a way. We too can forget or (wrongfully and incompletely) reconstruct memories, due to things like trauma, illness or simply a lot of time having passed.

So, just like Crowley remembers going into battle but doesn't remember Furfur being there, or just like Jimbriel has entierly forgotten who he is but still remembers the tune and lyrics to Buddy Holly's song Everyday, and just like archangel Michael was miraculously made to forget Gabriel and yet says "Don't I know you?" when seeing him again – just like that, Aziraphale's memories of the story of Job, the story of wee Morag and the story of the magic show in 1941, might not actually be the whole truth.

So, time to look at where the furniture isn't.

Now, it could very well be that the costume designers of S2 thought: "Fuck it, let's go crazy" – but given that this show has a track record of meticulously making sure to stick to accurate and cohesive character design, doesn't it strike you as odd that Crowley would go from this look at the Flood in Mesopotamia, 3004 BC:

... to the (very iconic, don't get me wrong) Bildad the Shuhuite drip in 2500 BC:

... back to this at the crucifixion of Jesus Christ in 33 AD:

I mean ... I mean– come on, that seems like a bit of a far stretch, even for someone as enthusiastically experimental with fashion as Crowley.

And it's not just that: Where did the sunglasses come from, all of a sudden? And why do they look like some sort of obscure, ancient optometrist's device? It's a known historical fact that the Romans were the ones to have invented sunglasses, somewhere around 50-ish AD. Which actually matches perfectly with when Crowley and Aziraphale meet again in Rome 8 years after the crucifixion (51 AD).

So, where do the weird spectacles come from, over 2000 years too early? Maybe from Aziraphale's brain filling in some gaps? Hasn't Crowley always worn those ridiculous sunglasses? Was it Rome? Or Golgotha? Wessex? Oh, blimey, what does it matter!

And it's not just Crowley: Aziraphale's own clothes, as well as the other angels', seem to be very different from the rather plain linen we see him wear before and after the story of Job.

They're laced with golden embroidery along the neckline and sleeves. The remind almost of the clothes angels are depicted wearing in biblical and historical drawings. Ornate and decadent. Not at all like we see Aziraphale in the other flashbacks of S1.

Even Bildad the Shuhite's hair within the minisode keeps changing, going from all pouffy and voluminous to rather deflated and straight-looking:

The costume department either had to fix up two seperate wigs or manually straighten out the volume of the one again to give it a more sleek look. I'm not a professional in this field, but if there's anything I've learned from watching hours of behind-the-scenes material of movies and shows, it's that very little about costume, character, prop and set design is purely coincidental.

You know what it could be, though? An accurate representation of how memories aren't linear, historically correct and objective representations of a certain event, but rather an ever-changing, jumbled mess of impressions, emotions and exaggerations.

More specifically: Aziraphale's impression, emotions and exaggerations.

Like "remembering" Crowley with sunglasses because he's been wearing them for so long.

Like "remembering" himself wearing more luxurious, angelic clothes because that's how he thinks of the difference between Heaven and Hell.

Like "remembering" the permit as a ridiculously long scroll that folded out over an entire valley.

Like "remembering" Job's children to be weirdly sassy in an almost Aziraphale-esque way (Enon: "Don't be silly!") for the fact that Job would have probably taught them to be more humble and obedient in the presence of a literal angel.

Like "remembering" eating an entire fucking Ox after having just one bite of it while Crowley watched him lustfully, sipping on his wine.

Like "remembering" Crowley calling him 'angel', despite them having barely known each other back then.

There's a reason why the flashbacks in S2 seem so much more alive, quirky and, at many points, confusing and all over the place. Because they're not objective stories being told by a third party. They're Aziraphale's. So much of his own thoughts and feelings at the time get projected onto them because that's simply how memory works!

It's subjective. It's unrealiable.

It's not that I'm calling Aziraphale a liar. He's no more a liar than your parents are, mixing up Sarah and Bobby. Or you, remembering snow instead of sunshine. Memories aren't lies. They can simply be faulty, focus on things that you thought were more important and leaving out or changing things that weren't, to you.

The real challenge in all of this, is trying to filter through Aziraphale's stories to see what it actually is they're telling us. Where it is that the furniture isn't. And I think in this case, that's 6 main things (eff you, God, I know you like sevens, but I don't care):

God and Satan (still) talk to each other We see that Aziraphale is quite surprised when Muriel mentions that the whole Job thing is God's bet with Satan. But clearly, despite having made him and the rest fall, God still converses with Her number one traitor about whether or not the humans simply love Her because she gives them nice things or because they truly believe in Her.

God and Satan (and Heaven and Hell) can and do collaborate with each other when they feel like it So much for choosing sides, huh? Truthfully, this is not the first time this is shown to us, but still. It's another piece of evidence on the growing pile.

Aziraphale understands the World and humans way better than any of the other angels "Well, you see ... Citis is 58 ..."

Aziraphale, despite having troubles voicing it, absolutely disagrees and even condemns God's plan of destroying Job's children (and goats and camels and––)

Aziraphale is willing to lie and thwart the will of God Also not the first time we're being shown this but again, piiiile of evidence.

Angels don't automatically Fall simply by doing the above To me, this is one of the most important take aways. It's already hinted in S1 as well that 'Falling' seems to have been a one time even back when the first war broke out in Heaven. And I actually believe that ever since then, no other angels have Fallen again. Aziraphale is the best example for this. He has gone against God's plan numerous times and even lied to her very face (voice?) about it. And yet, nothing ever happened to him. Why exactly that is the case remains a topic for another meta (that I might or might not be working on already, teehee).

Alright, that concludes this first look at the Job minisode! If there's anything I missed, feel free to share it with me. I'll try and add Part 2 (the story of wee Morag) and Part 3 (the magic show of 1941) soon.

Update: Part 2 and Part 3 have officially been written, you can find it them right here:

Part 2: The Story of wee Morag

Part 3: The Story of the Magic Show in 1941

Hugs and kisses, (God)!

[creative-clawmarks]

Longass Vampire AU Loredump

I feel I should preface this with the most important fact of this AU: supernatural beings are not actually a part of this world.

What I mean by this is there is no secret society of vampires, there is no chapter in the medical books on lycanthropy, and ghost hunters still have not found conclusive evidence. As far as you or I or anyone else knows the cast of MH are the only things like them in existence.

Because the Operator did this to them.

It's a parasite, and its strategy is to make people into predators then mop up the trail of bodies they leave behind.

As for why their monstrosity takes the specific forms it does? The Watsonian Explanation is that we will never really know, such things are beyond people's understanding. The Doyalist Explanation is that I have taken the character's metaphorical roles and made them literal to give myself an excuse to draw sharp teeth.

With that out of the way, here's what these freaks are actually capable of:

Alex (Vampire):

Standard package of fast healing, unnatural speed, and unbeating heart. Probably immortal but I guess now we'll never know.

Drinks blood, of course. But I like my vamps fucked up so there's a good dose of gory cannibalism for flavor.

He won't combust in the sun or anything, but his skin is especially sensitive to heat and his eyes are especially sensitive to light.

Heightened hearing, he could hunt someone down with his eyes closed just by tracking their heartbeat.

Venomous, specifically paralytic toxins. Once he's bitten you there's no running away, you're basically screwed.

Fangs and claws are retractable. I also gave him a forked tongue because he's like a terrarium snake to me :)

"Once more I have seen the director go out in his lizard fashion."

He can purr. Because I know what the people want.

Tim (Werewolf):

Standard package of fast healing, unnatural strength, and canine features. Would rather not think about whether or not he's immortal.

Does not hunger for human flesh. If given the opportunity he might maul a deer tho.

Burned by the touch of silver. He also personally thinks wolfsbane is gross but that's unrelated.

When in human form he's mostly that, human. Sure his senses are sharper and he can grow out his teeth and claws a little bit but otherwise he's normal.

When in wolf form, on the other hand, he is DANGEROUS. I'm talking bite through steel tear you in half only thing that can stop him is a silver bullet dangerous.

The wolf form is analogous to Masky in this AU, as in he turns against his will whenever he's threatened or misses a dose and he won't remember much whenever he eventually turns back.

The only time he can change under his own power with his mind intact is during the full moon. He looks forward to it every month because without the threat of loosing control being a wolf is rad actually.

If you scratch him under the chin he goes boneless. Doesn't matter what form he's in.

Brian (Ghost):

Standard package of walk through walls, disappear, and fly. I don't think the term immortal applies to this situation tho...

You know the excuse that ghost don't just physically manifest cuz they don't have enough energy for it? Yeah he's so incandescently pissed that he's tangible more often than not.

Its actually kind of the opposite conundrum where he has to focus and calm down to actually use his ghostly abilities.

Salt circles will totally work on him, but good luck catching him first lol.

Even if you can't see him you can still sort of feel his presence, the room will get colder and the shadows will get deeper.

If you catch him on a bad day he can pull some Poltergeist TM level shenanigans.

Can't really communicate like he used to, his mind is too broken and detached from what it once was. That's why all the ToTheArk videos look like that.

If you were to put a spirit box in the room with him all you would hear coming out of it is his death screams on loop.

Jay (Mortal):

He's just a guy lol, poor bastard doesn't stand a chance.

Why yes, he has read Twilight. Why do you ask?

[volturiprincess]

From the other side

Demetri Volturi x F newborn vampire

Warnings: Foul language, death, mentions of a Emetophobia, I bash on the Cullens here A/N: This was a request by @kpopgirlbtssvt, I got to say I enjoyed working on this. Its been a while since I worked on an actual long one-shot request but I hope the wait was worth it, and I might of changed some ideas on the request slightly (but still stayed on topic). Enjoy💙 Word Count: 4k+ (wow)

_____________________________

(He's just so gorgeous🥰)

“I think she’s waking up”

“How do you know?”

“Well you can see her eyeball moving Emmett, I'm no doctor but I think that is a sign she is waking up”

“Oh well sorry Mister Smartypants, didn't know I was in the presences of an expert”

“Focus, should we fetch Carlisle? He said he would be back soon but what if he’s already here?”

“I'll check, you stay here incase she starts moving around, wouldn't want her newborn instincts to kill Nessie”

“Fairpoint”

Why do I feel so strange? Where the hell am I? Maybe I should wake up, maybe the one with the southern accent could give me answers. I force myself to wake up and when I do everything seems so different. Everything seems so focused, enhanced, so…perfect. When has my vision ever been this good? I know I've been neglecting my glasses quite often but even with my glasses on I never had such good eyesight, I always thought I never needed them. I sit up slowly to check my surroundings. Crap! Where am I? What even happened to me? 

Flashback….

Just left my final class of the day, Anatomy is such a pain in the ass really. Why did I decide to take both Anatomy 1 and Genetics in the same semester? But I mean it's worth it, get the harder classes out of the way and then I can maybe squeeze in other classes I am interested in before graduating. I clinged my heavy textbooks to my chest tighter as I tiredly made my way to my small apartment. I got lucky that this place was cheap compared to living on campus, and the bonus to it is that my place is about 5 minutes away from campus. I heard the school bell ring signaling some class has ended, instantly I'm surrounded by a swarm of students like me. All of them either off to  their next class, or home, or even getting a late lunch. I was slightly pushed around until I managed to find an opening but not everything can go to plan. As I was trying to get to the opening someone shoved me a bit too hard and the books I was clutching flew out of my arms, I went along with them.

I heard a simple “My bad” and then I was met with silence. I hurriedly picked up my stuff and saw how people just looked but didn't help or offer a hand. Situations like this makes me want to just disappear. Just be able to get to point A to B without any mishaps. I composed myself mentally and continued my walk to my apartment. Considering it's only 5, it's already pitch black. I don't like walking alone at night, sure I’m a night owl, but I like to be alone in a safe space. As I'm walking I felt that weird feeling of being watched, it's like a sixth sense to me at this point, please tell me it's just my paranoia and not real. I do a quick scan and I'm met with no one but silence that makes an exception to the far off train horn. I hurried off trying to shake off that paranoia until I bumped into what I thought was a wall (ended up being a ‘human’)and then I was met with darkness.

Present…

I felt my eyes fill with tears but I soon noticed they would not fall, I tried blinking but nothing happened. I went to wipe my eyes with my hand instead but felt my hand move abnormally faster. Okay what the heck? I know I sometimes have my days where my reflexes kick in or not but I have never been able to move that fast. And as if on cue my throat felt so dry, I felt like I could drain the pacific and yet that would not be enough to satisfy the level of thirst I have. I tried swallowing but noticed that it didn't even help or even do anything.

“Carlisle should be here soon with something to subdue the thirst”

My gaze snaps to the man who is casually keeping guard at the door. The way he stood made me think he was maybe in the military or something. Why is he beautiful? His blonde locks styled perfectly and his eyes… Are they gold? I have never seen that type of eye color on someone before, I mean I have read a book where one of the characters had pirate gold eyes but in person that’s strange.

“Wh-wha- where am I?”

The way his gaze slowly met mine gave me the creeps, it was like from a scene of a horror movie, where if you spot something from a distance and then you blink, they are right in front of you, killing you.

“Carlisle will answer your questions”

“Why can't you?”

“I'm not in a position to be telling you stuff, all I'm here is to keep you calm since you are a newborn”

“A newborn?”

And then I was met with silence, he turned away from me so he was back to facing the wall like he was previously. 

“Could I at least get your name?”

“Jasper Whitlock, ma’am”

What feels like ages, another man walks in with a big guy. The first one seems like he is the one in charge around here, he seemed nice. He had a calm presence within, but the other guy seemed like he was ready to pick up a fight, probably the muscles around here. Now that I'm thinking about it more, am I in some sort of mafia? But these guys don't seem all that scary, maybe the big one and the Jasper guy. The calm one got closer to me and offered me a cup.

“Here drink this, it should help with the thirst”

I crabbed the cup hesitantly, hoping it wouldn't kill me, and drank it desperately. Finishing it in milliseconds, I did feel a small relief but I still had that feeling of an intense thirst. 

“We will give you more later but I think you deserve an explanation”

“You think”

He smiled gently but nodded “Well to start of you are not human anymore, you might of picked that up slightly since you have woken up”

Not human anymore? But what could I possibly be then? What have they done to me? Am I a monster now?

“You are now a newborn, a vampire to be exact”

That right there was the biggest mick drop of my life. What does he mean i'm a-a vampire? Those exist? I thought they were just myths, that they are just some made up thing that people build up over the years. But now I'm somehow one now? This shit can't be real, he probably has me on some drugs on something. Yeah that's right, probably drugged me and I'm trapped in some dream or something.

“I can see your in denial, there’s really no way to really explain it but you really are a vampire, that cup you drank from was filled with blood, deer blood to be exact”

Oh heck no. I drank blood? I never had a problem with blood, I mean I have a major in the medical field for a reason. Just can't get over vomiting, that's just a big phobia of mine, someone throws up and I'm literally about to faint. But enough of that.

“You gotta be joking here, vampires do not exist, there just myths”

“Well with all honesty here, I assure you I'm not joking, not with the times we are facing now”

“And what is that?”

“Well my family and I are in a bit of a dilemma, you see we have engaged another coven of vampires, and they are threatening to kill our family over a misunderstanding”

“Pardon my language, but what the fuck? What do you mean ‘another coven of vampires’ and a supposed death threat, there's more of you guys out there?”

The big guy chuckled slightly at my foul language and I heard him mumble a “Oh I like her, she’s way more funny than Bella”

“Yes well you see, our kind if basically spread out around the world, this other coven of vampires are living in Italy, but this coven is basically like our government, royalty you can say even, there more dangerous than us, they feed on human blood and they have gifts that can wipe out humanity in an instant”

Ok this other coven sounds scary, wipe out humanity? What the hell did this guy and his family do to anger them anyways, must be pretty serious.

“So let me guess this straight, you and your family have angered this powerful coven of vampires who can in your words wipe out humanity and…are doing what now?”

“Well we been gathering witness to help us avoid a fight with this coven”

“I see but what exactly did you do to anger this coven of powerful vampires then?”

“My son and his new wife had a baby”

“A baby? I'm sorry I don't see a problem here”

“Vampires cannot recreate, that's what I thought until my then human daughter-in-law got pregnant”

“Ok? Still not seeing a problem here”

“I guess an easier way to explain is as I said vampires cannot recreate, we are biologically not able to do such thing between two vampires, but between a vampire male and female human, it's possible but the problem here is the Volturi believe we have created an immortal child, which we didn't”

“I see so then why do they believe you created an immortal child? And also what is an immortal child?”

“An immortal child is a child what was turned into a vampire, there stuck as a child for eternity and cannot control their thirst or be calmed or even age, they are in modern terminology are illegal, and to answer the other question, apparently hybrids are not common and they did not know about them existing”

 The more he answers my questions, the more I think I am definitely dreaming, no way in hell is all of this real. Why am I even being roped into this? I was just some human who was just trying to be a Physician and now that dream is out the window because I'm apparently a vampire now. I need to wake up, this cannot be my life right now, I have so much to live for still. Sure I was quiet and not in some relationship but I still liked the life I had. 

“Now the real question here is, why or how am I even part of this?”

They were all quiet instantly and none of them were making eye contact with me. Ok weird… I mean even the big guys amused look was gone and that guy answering my questions with a small smile was also gone. Something here does not feel right. Someone burst into the room, which freaked me out a bit because this guy along with his buddy looked intimidating with all their leather and the intense red eyes. I felt a weird current roll down my body and then I heard gasps. The Jasper dude looked at me with wide eyes, well everyone was looking at me with the same wide eyes. 

“She’s gone!”

“No I don't think so Emmett, she’s gifted”

“What are the odds of finding one that is gifted”

“Not very likely”

Why are they all talking about me as if I wasn't there?

“Um i'm right here”

The ‘nice’ one spoke up first “Well it seems you have a gift miss, your invisible currently”

“Seriously?” I looked down and as he said I am indeed invisible. Maybe that weird current I felt earlier was me triggering this. Should I tell him this?

“How were you able to do that?”

“I don't know, I um felt a weird feeling run through me after those two over there came in”

“Vladimir and Stefan triggered it? Hmm it seems it came from fear then, interesting”

So those are their names, I wonder who is who. My wild guess is the platinum blonde is Vladimir and the dark haired one is Stefan. 

As if he knew I was talking about him, the platinum started to speak “So you were desperate enough for witnesses that you created a newborn? That’s low even for you Carlisle. At least she’s gifted but even then she probably has no combat skills so she won't be able to tear heads off if the time comes”

Ok y/n, let's think about becoming visible, I don't like how they're just staring at me like that, and also speaking smack about me either. Smoke started to surround me for a minute and when I looked at my hands to see I was now visible. Again I heard the gasp. 

“How did you do that?”

“I was just thinking about wanting to be visible”

“Well that’s good to know how your gift works”

“I guess”

Carlisle, it took him like thirty minutes to tell me his name, started to explain the situation more and even introduced me to the other members of his family. Jasper along with his friend taught me some basic combat skills in case a fight broke out with the confrontation. But the weird thing I discovered was when I met the infamous son, Edward, I was able to read his mind when he was reading mine, he gave me a funky look each time and tried to reduce his thoughts as much as he could. 

Funny enough but also traumatizing, he was always thinking about his honeymoon with his wife. I do not need to know how his child was conceived. When I met Alice a similar thing happened, she spaced out (which I found out she does when she has a vision) and I saw me with another figure, a man to be exact. The man in the vision was gorgeous, I never knew such a person could exist, he looked like a greek god. I think I might have another gift but I'm not sure I should tell Carlisle, there's just something off about why he won't tell me about how I became a vampire or what happened to me that night. 

—-------------------------------

Today is the day of the confrontation. Just last night I found out about vampires and now I might face death himself. And just today I found out werewolves or shifters exist, is everything in the books true then? I can feel my chest curl into itself and I feel myself internally hyperventilating. Can vampires do that? Well if they can that is exactly what is happening to me. I was placed between Vladimir and Stefan because apparently I should blend in and be more in the background then in front with the others. The Cullens think if the Volturi find out about me they might face a punishment of some sort.

But these two vampires are freaking me out slightly, they had an eye on me constantly, as if I were some criminal or something. With the confrontation I am fighting the urge to just disappear, I don't want part in this. It's not like I could be of help anyways, I can't really turn invisible on command, it just happens and turning visible doesn't always work when I want it to. The other gift I have, I still have no idea how it works or what it is exactly. 

Everyone is standing on guard waiting for the Volturi to arrive. I think the longer we wait the longer I feel my anxiety rise. I saw Vladimir move slightly, I followed his gaze to see a whole army of cloaked figures, they all moved in sync and let a smaller group move forward, those are definitely the kings with their guards. When they all stopped walking, they removed their cloaks and my eyes widened in shock. Why are they all really good looking? The big guy looks even more scary than Emmett, he’s basically towering over everyone. The other two I see are what I can assume are twins, they look alike except for the girl having blonde hair and the guy having brown hair. I heard the others say they are the most dangerous ones. I look at the kings, the only one who looks like he would kill everyone is the blonde one, he seems like the anger issues type of guy- err vampire. 

It seems I forgot to analyze another guard, he was slightly out of my view but how can anyone ignore his presence. I think this was the guy from Alice vision, in person he's more gorgeous. His lovely blonde hair styled to look like spikes, how his face is so symmetrical, he was indeed handcrafted by the gods.

I saw his gaze shift to meet mine, and oh dear gosh, a strong feeling overcame me. I don't even know what this feeling is, it's like an invisible string is trying to pull me toward him. I want to give in but I'm scared of what this is and I'm also scared that I might die right here. His focus was on me the whole time as the others spoke, there was even a point where he turned to the bored looking vampire to ask something which concluded with a nod from him. 

I don't even know what to center my fear right now, the fear from what is happening or the fear of this strange feeling I have with the breathtaking vampire. My attention on him was paused as I saw the blonde twin try to do something but that Bella girl used her shield, the blonde girl even looked at me but something odd happened. She clutched herself as if she was in agonizing pain and fell to her knees, my eyes widened slightly as her twin brother was at her side trying to somewhat resolve her pain.

Even the other Volturi members were shocked, the same twin boy turned his gaze to us and the anger that reflected his eyes was the most terrifying thing to witness. Out of his pure instincts he released a black smoke that also came out of my hands. I started to panic and the witnesses around me were also panicking, a bunch of them hissed for me to stop but I didn't know how or what was even happening.

A loud stop from the Volturi's side made everything go back to normal, the smoke was gone, the girl who was in pain stopped clutching herself and the boy's face was back to its resting form. Even the smoke I somehow had coming out of my hands had vanished. The king in the middle was the one who shouted stop from what I can tell.

“And who is this? She seems to have a very similar ability to one of my guards”

Carlisle who still had a confused looked form the earlier actions done by me “She’s part of Vladimir’s and Stefan’s coven”

The way the two vampires looked at Carlisle at the mention of their name would have left him buried six feet under. I could tell whatever plan the doctor had in mind was not planned. I mean even I was not aware of the plan to start off with, I was just told to stay quiet in the back and not turn invisible until they commanded me to. Vladimir not wanting to be thrown under the bridge or face any death just like me didn't let his voice be unheard 

“Still low of you Carlisle, he’s lying to you”

The look on the vampire king's face can be best described as if someone stabbed him in the back.

“Oh? Please do tell”

“She’s a newborn that Carlisle himself turned just recently”

“Oh my, bring her forward now”

I looked around the witness who was just staring at me as if I grew a second head. Carlisle gave me a look to go to them, so I walked toward the other coven, twiddling my fingers to try to calm my nerves down. So this is it then? This is how I die? As I got closer the elegant vampire kept his gaze on me, it almost looked like he was forcing himself to not go to me, like he was chained down. When I was a good ten feet away from them the tall muscular vampire one grabbed me. He had a strong hold on me, if I were human, painful bruises would indeed be forming at that instant. Again that handsome vampire looked like he was about to go to me but he stood his ground. The raven one came to me closer to introduce himself

“Hello dear, what is your name?”

“Y/n”

“Now do you mind offering me your hand?”

“My hand?”

He looked a bit impatient but smiled, a creepy smile but smiled nevertheless. “Well you see I have gift of being able to look at every thought and memory with just a touch”

“Oh, I see”

I offered my hand and was instantly reliving my every thought and memory as he said but as for my incidents with Edward, Alice, and the twins I could see his every thought and memory. I saw that he wanted Alice to be part of his coven, he was thinking of just forgiving the Cullens, I even saw memories of the handsome guard who I found out his name is Demetri. It just rolls out so naturally, it's as if I was born to say his name. Aro let go of my hand after a while with a bewildered look

“Interessante, I’m sorry for the troubles you been through, but it appears you have two gifts–”

Before he could continue, the sad looking vampire rested a hand on Aro’s shoulder and he turned to him to grab his hand like he did with me. With this case when I looked at the emotionless vampire I was able to see a red string that was connecting me and Demetri. It was the richests of red I have ever seen, come to think about it, it looks like his eyes. When he let go, Aro made one of the creepiest laughs I have ever heard to humankind, straight from a horror film. 

“It appears our own Demetri has found his mate”

If I could I would shiver at the mention of Demetri’s name. The mentioned name looked at the kings with anticipation, I mean I for sure wanted answers of what is going to happen.

“Felix you can let her go now, she’s no danger to us, on the contrary she’s going to join us”

I was let go by Felix “Join you? Why?”

“Well you see dear you are the mate to one of our guards, and we would hate for him to be miserable or lack on his missions if his mate is not kept safe, maybe with time you could join him in missions”

If I'm getting this straight, if I don't join then my ‘mate’, that’s a strong word to use, will be sad and won't be able to do his job correctly. Or I stay with the people who basically kidnapped me from the life I had, turned me into this bloodthirsty monster –currently I am still thirsty– and just threw me into a situation that I was nowhere prepared for. But again I don't even know Demetri, what if he’s cruel, what if he treats me like the Cullens? My thoughts started to spiral at a point where I was one with my mind and nothing around me existed anymore. If it weren't for the husky addicting voice I would have gone mental.

“Master? May I have a word with her?”

“Go ahead, she’s your mate after all”

I felt the warmth of his soft yet rough hands. I looked into his eyes and he gave me a small hesitant smile, oh I can get used to that. I need to see his real smile now.

“Hello cariño, I am Demetri, I am aware you know nothing about me neither do I about you, but I can promise you if you come with me and my coven, I will give you anything you want, give you a life humans can never come close to having, I will promise you an eternity of love and happiness”

So this is love? The way he speaks is straight from a romance novel. And the way his face glows makes it all more sincere and truthful, heck I just want to run away with him. I was about to say something to him when I heard them. The Cullens along with their witnesses whispering about me.

“A traitor”

“All that hard work to get her here for her just to abandon us”

“I knew there was something off about her”

“Carlisle do something”

“She can’t go”

“If she goes with them, then the Volturi have more power”

“She would be stupid to go with them”

“Indeed”

“She was a mistake”

I wanted to use that gift to disappear at that moment, I didn't ask to be placed in this situation to start off with. I was forced and manipulated. 

“You promise”

His hesitant smile turned genuine “I promise amore, forever and always”

Aro literally was beaming with anticipation for my decision, reminding me of a child waiting for the final decision of their parents to let them go to a sleepover at a friend's house. I nodded which caused Aro to clap with joy 

“Magnifico my dear” His attention turned to the vampires behind me “She will be coming with us, if you dare interfere, we will wipe you out without hesitation”

Ok that’s scary but I can tell he’s serious. I could see the blonde king with a proud smirk but Demetri pulled me into his side.

“Nobody will ever take you away from me from now on”

I gave him a weak smile as we walked off the snowy battleground. I didn't ask for this new life, but maybe it won't be so bad with him. 

[aka-indulgence]

Imminent Threat: Baby Pictures Confirmed!

I was bitten by the inspiration bug and I do love this idea a lot, heheh…

Wanna see what happens if HT!Sans catches a glimpse of your baby pictures?

(HT!Sans x Female!Reader)

(No warnings just be prepared for silly, fluff, and cute (aggression))

——————

Sans twiddles his thumbs, watching you leave with the dishes into the kitchen. Your parents had forbidden him from doing the dishes.

“You made us this wonderful meal! It’s her turn on the chores anyway,”

“What! I come home to see you and you’re just making me do chores?”

“Yes! It’s to catch up on all the chores you missed these past few months! Hahahah!”

He turned to you and whispered a pathetic little “sorry,” but you waved him off.

“It’s ok, I’m used to it. Might as well treat them since I can’t cook like you, right? Keep them company.”

So here he was, sitting on the table, feeling like he was going to expel the meal he just ate, watching your parents wipe their lips with tissue like they were about to interrogate him.

“So, how’s living with (Y/n) like?”

“good.” no no. too fast. talk more. “she…… she’s nice.”

nice? is that all i have to say about her?

“Ah. That’s good to hear,” your dad replies, taking a sip of tea from a mug.

…

i guess if i said the other things i thought of her, they’d probably want to take her away from me.

“Hey, I hope she’s more active than how she used to be. She used to stay home for days, and we’d have to remind her to go outside and get some sun!” Your mom chortles, and Sans rubs the back of his neck.

“a… actually… she’s the one that wants to leave the house now. i don’t… like leaving. the house is nicer.” Sans forces a grin, but he can’t tell if it’s coming off as awkward or spine-chillingly horrifying.

He can’t gauge how your parents reacted. Your dad smirked, and your mom tilted her head. What does that mean? Do they not approve? Sans usually prides himself in being able to read people like a book- even after the head injury. But his skull is full of thoughts.

“I imagine you’d have to stay at home to hone that cooking skill, then?” Your mom offered, “that stew was amazing! The blend of herbs and spices, the broth wasn’t too thick or thin, and the meat was cooked to perfection…”

Your dad chuckles. “I don’t know about cooking as much as my wife does, but I’ll tell you what, that’s one hell of a stew you’ve got. You could probably start a restaurant,”

“heh… heh you think?” His grin turns more genuine as his cheeks turn a tinge of dark blue.

“How did you learn to cook so well, Sans? Did you go to culinary school?” Your mom pries.

“oh… no actually, i learnt it all myself,” Sans explains, “back in the underground we didn’t have much to go on but we didn’t want to eat something completely tasteless so i learnt how to make things taste good with what we had…”

Sans realizes too late that maybe he brought up the underground a bit too casually, because all of a sudden your mom looks stricken with guilt, and your dad looks awfully uncomfortable.

“O-oh, I’m so sorry Sans, I didn’t mean to…”

“no no. i-i brought it up, you don’t have to apologize,”

Is he smiling too much? Should he be frowning? Wait hold on he’s looking at your mom too much, he should look at your dad now. Oh he’s looking away…

Why was he so bad at this? He’s relied on looking scary and stopping everyone from trying to talk to him. B-but he likes your parents, they’re nice, some of the few humans that actually look past his scary face and see him as… sort of harmless?

Your dad broke the silence.

“Yes, I’ve always tried to make the most of my meals. Like when I have crumbs I’d toss them near the anthill we used to have in the backyard. Hahah, one time when (Y/n) was very little she saw me throw breadcrumbs and asked me what I was doing. I told her I was feeding the ants, and she must have been really impressed with that idea… because,”

Your dad got into a fit of giggles, and Sans perks up.

“Tch… hih! Because the next day I found her standing in front of the anthill… with bread on top of it. Whole wheat, whole bread slice. I asked her what she was doing! And she said ‘I’m feeding the ants!’ She looked so proud I had to take a picture of her! I think I have it on my phone,”

Sans mouth opens. He all but quaked in his chair, having to physically restrain from grabbing your dad’s phone.

“m-m…” Sans coughs trying to regain composure, “may i see it,”

“On it, just… give me a sec…” Sans watched as your dad scrolled and scrolled, until…

“Found it,”

He turned his phone around.

There you were, no older than 3, in a little bucket hat, sleeveless shirt and shorts, with tiny flip flops. You had a bright, sunshine smile on your face, and humorously… a slice of bread sitting amidst the grass and dirt just a foot or two away from you.

Sans’ eyelights shrinks, his grin gone. Carefully, he takes the phone out of your dad’s hands and zooms in on your face. You had dimples in your cheeks, and they… they looked so plump like little squishballs. Your eyes were round and sparkled in the sun. His hands shook.

He must’ve looked unhinged.

“What do you think?” Your mom asked.

“sh…… she’s so small……” Sans breaths, then swallows, turning to your dad. “d… d’you… do you have more…?”

Your dad snorts, his arms crossed. “‘Do you have more’ he says,” he scoffs. “Kid, we have an entire baby album.”

****

You tuned out of the conversation in the kitchen, earphones plugging your ears, a tried and true ‘dish washing’ playlist playing as your background music. It was a nice break. You’re happy to see your parents again, but they can be a bit overbearing at times… ask Sans odd questions about monsters, sometimes mention how tiny you look next to your boyfriend (which had Sans hiding his face… they thought he was offended but he was mortified, worried your parents were hinting at how he was like with you in private).

Though you certainly didn’t miss doing chores back home, you did see it as a bit of a reprieve.

But then over the music, you heard laughter… loud laughter. It didn’t sound like your dad. And Sans doesn’t usually laugh that hard. It started soft at first but it got louder and louder, until you were sure that was Sans. What were they doing to him? It almost sounded like they found his most ticklish bone and was torturing him with him.

A laugh startled you so bad you almost dropped a clean plate onto the floor. You took off an earphone just in time for your mom to walk in.

“Hi dear, this is your dad’s, he’s finished his tea. You don’t have to wash it if you don’t want to…”

“Yea, ok-” you say, distracted and looking over your mom’s shoulder as if you could see what was causing all the ruckus. “What is happening???”

“Oh,” your mom laughed, “Sans is such a sweet, delightful monster. Your dad’s showing him your baby pictures-”

“Excuse me my WHAT?!!”

You threw the gloves onto the sink counter, washed your hands hastily, and yanked the other earphone off, tossing them haphazardly into a pocket. Tripping over your feet to sprint into the room, though you realize you’re too late.

Sans is vibrating on the sofa, having migrated from the table it seems. His eyelight was blown wide, the widest you’ve seen it, glued to the open book in front of him. Your dad flipped a page, looking unaware of the murderous skeleton next to him.

“And here… oh this was on a trip to the beach. She’d gotten scared of water because of a wave too big had brought her out from shore and her legs couldn’t reach the sand. It wasn’t out to sea or anything, but when you’re that small it must’ve been scary. But the hotel had a pool and I couldn’t have my daughter stay afraid of water… this was after a fun session of swimming in floaties and being swung into the pool.”

“ah… HAHAHAH! bright… orange…!”

It was clear to you now. Sans wasn’t laughing from something funny. He was overjoyed. So overjoyed he can’t contain it in himself that he just bursts with it. His eyelights warbled. They looked like hearts shimmering under a running river.

You grabbed your head in despair. “No, no no- what have you done!”

Your dad had looked up immediately, while Sans’ didn’t, holding onto the album. Though… his grin had twisted into something dark.

Dad took a photo out, the one he was just explaining: a picture of you laughing in orange floaties, floral swimwear, carried by your dad in a clear blue pool, looking up at the camera. The sides of the picture were slightly yellow.

“Do you remember this, poppy? It’s weird to think you were ever scared of water now… it’s hard to stop you from swimming, nowadays,”

You can’t help but smile in your heart a little. It brought back happy memories of travelling with your parents when you were little.

Unfortunately, there are far more pressing matters at the moment.

“No, wait, dad… what did you do?”

“What?”

“You… you showed Sans my baby pictures?”

“Baby and toddler pictures,” your dad corrected. “Also there’s no need to be embarrassed, I feel like it’s a right of passage to have your baby pictures shown to your significant other by your parents.”

“No, I’m not embarrassed,” you shake your hands helplessly, “it’s just… Sans is gonna kill me,”

There was an incident, almost a year ago now. You were shuffling through some things you found in a box you never unpacked… at the bottom you found a polaroid of you rolled up in a baby blue blanket and, admittedly, looking pretty darned cute.

You showed it to Sans, innocently. It’s cute, you can admit it, and you knew Sans would appreciate it.

Oh how naive you were.

He held the picture, stared at it. Was at a loss for words, though he kept trying to form them helplessly, bringing it close to his face like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Then he muttered.

“b… baby…… b… baby…”

Then he went crazy. Picking you up, not listening to your protests- usually when Sans gets in a cuddly mood he ignores your complaints but that time, it was like he really couldn’t hear you. His pupil was blown wide and constantly shifted from heart to circle. He squashed you in bed, smooshed your cheeks, kissed you until you were gasping for breath- you don’t even think it’s a sexual thing, he was just overcome with cute aggression!

It wasn’t a one time thing either. Carelessly, you’d leave the picture propped up on the window as a cute memento aesthetic… thing, maybe, but every time Sans looked at the picture too long, he’d get into his violent cuddly moods and kidnap you to the bedroom to squish you. Eventually you had to hide it to avoid inducing anymore ‘cute-induced murderous rage’ in him.

And your parents just opened pandora’s box for you.

Your brows furrow in worry as Sans looks up from the album to you, his eyelight tightening into just a fraction of what it was before, zeroing in on you. His grin was wide and deranged. He chuckled, a low, threatening sound.

“heh heh… i’m going to crush you.”

[literaticat]

Hi Jenn. Can I ask you some info about “cozy” mysteries? I’m part of a writers group and recently shared some details about the plot of my novel and others in the group keep throwing around this term in relation to my book. Thing is I’m not sure if what I’ve written is a cozy mystery. I mean, it sort of is but also not. It’s a murder mystery and it’s set in a cozy UK village but it’s also kind of dark, with themes dealing with grief and thriller elements. I’m also querying UK agents to start with before I query US ones and while it looks like the term is maybe international I’m also wondering if it’s more US than UK? My comps are Agatha Christie, esp her Poirot novels which I see some saying online are cozy and others saying aren’t cozy, plus modern authors like Graham Norton and Tom Hindle. I know I can ask some of this in my group but I’m embarrassed to as I don’t know if I’ve written a cozy or not or given it’s kind of darker, if I’ve just written a murder mystery. I know this isn’t your area but if you could help me I’d really appreciate it, thank you.

With the caveats that I don't rep adult mysteries, I don't really read adult mysteries, I don't know anything about the market for adult mysteries in the US *or* the UK, nor what terminology is in use for the UK since I am not in the UK? Uh. Sure.

In my opinion, there are four main attributes for a proper cozy.

A cozy mystery must:

Feature an amateur sleuth. In other words -- the main character's JOB is not to solve crimes -- they are not a cop or P.I. or FBI agent or forensic pathologist or whatever. They may be a reporter or a novelist or a little old lady who happens to have a passion for puzzles -- they may be a kooky barista or bookstore owner or chef or something totally not-crime related!

Have a charming setting. By that I mean, warm, cute, safe-feeling -- say, a village/hamlet/vicarage called Button-on-Twee with a delightfully quirky cast of characters. The kind of place you want to take a weekend vacation to. (Not all villages/small towns are like that. Plenty of REAL small towns are in fact impoverished and bleak -- that wouldn't be the case in a cozy small town). It doesn't HAVE to be a village, it could be something like a hotel, vacation resort, or on a large yacht or something -- as long as it's charming/lovely. If it is set in a city, it would be like a pocket-neighborhood within a city. Like, maybe there's a darling B&B and a brownstone full of chatty neighbors and pets on a street that has a kindly greengrocer and a bookstore etc -- and we stay in that little corner of town, far away from skyscrapers and dangerous bits. It would be much harder, IMO, for a cozy to be set on like, a remote and isolated desert planet or farm in the middle of nowhere with no neighbors or something -- those things are not cozy!

Be "clean" -- ie, no explicit sex or grisly violence on page. Obvs there may be romance/relationships, love/kissing, etc if you want, but it will be closed-door, ie, the actual uh... graphic bonking stuff may be implied but will not be shown. Obvs there may be murders, but think, like, the level of violence on Murder She Wrote -- MAYBE we see an assailant whack somebody on the head or something like that -- but when bodies are shown, they are rather discreetly presented, or are discovered off-screen. They aren't showing twisted bodies or guts and gore and maggots in eyes and whatnot, yanno?

Be comforting and satisfying. Like, idk, it's just a vibe. Though there may be murder and light mayhem and delving into some of the darker parts of the human psyche (after all, MURDER, hello!) -- and the reader may certainly experience SUSPENSE (how will our hero get out of this jam?!) -- they will not experience TERROR. The reader knows they are in good hands and that the problems will be satisfyingly resolved and the main character will be OK at the end. They should come away from the book feeling satisfied, with a smile, not upset or stressed out.

If your book ticks ALL of those boxes, you can deffo call it a cozy.

If it ticks 3/4, like, it's sorta borderline 4, as long as the vibe is still comforting, it still could potentially be a cozy, but at the end of the day: If you don't think it's cozy, that's fine. Just... don't call it cozy then! Call it a mystery and then describe it and put the comps and let people come to their own conclusions.

(FWIW, Miss Marple is an amateur sleuth whose books are mostly set in a small town or vacation destinations -- Hercule Poirot is a former cop and professional detective whose books are set all over the map, literally. So by my definition, Poirot books are not cozies. Marple books might be -- but I haven't read them, so IDK about the vibe!)

[thenightfolknetwork]

Hello. I'm, um, not entirely sure how to talk about this. I hope it's okay if I misspeak. I'm a human, right, so I think that needs to be clear more than anything, but I've been very involved in the creature community for years now. I live by a great big lake and I always liked to walk down the shore late at night or early in the morning, you know, just to try and get out of my own head, and one night ages ago I accidentally tripped over someone's jacket and twisted my ankle. It was a gorgeous fur jacket, too, not like any kind of fur I'd seen in a jacket before, but just stunningly soft and thick as Hell.

Now, of course I didn't take it, that'd be awful, but also I had just hurt myself in kind of a nasty way and so it wasn't like I had anything else to do but sit by the shore next to the jacket and waited, and yeah, a few hours later one of the lake seals popped its head out of the water, looked at me for a good long while, and then...well, I mean, you know how the rest of the story goes, I'm sure.

Anyway, it's been a few years now and I've become really close to this family. I didn't really know anyone in my town before meeting them and I'm not on speaking terms with my own folks, so in a lot of ways these people have become my family, and it's an honor that they trust me to keep guard of their cloaks and such when they go out. But I've got this problem, right, and it's just...over the years it's felt less and less like I fit in with other humans. All my friends are nightfolk now, my family hates me even more because they're bigots--in this night and age, can you fucking believe it--and it's just like every night I get further and further away from the shore.

I'm just scared because...I don't *want* to stop drifting away. I've had dreams of joining them down there in the lake, practically every night for months on end. I've tried doing research into methods of joining the community but I don't want to become a vampire, I don't fancy any lunar-aligned nonsense, nothing has felt right except selkies, but I can't decide if I'm just self aware enough that I need a push from an outside viewer to try and accept something I already know full well...or if no, actually, that little voice in my stupid head that won't go away that keeps calling me a fraud, an invader, an appropriator--what if the reason it's not going away is because it's right and I really don't belong?

Just...please be honest with me. Am I a complete asshole for spending hours every day trying not to just outright beg my family--sorry, chosen family--to help me sew myself a cloak, or is there something to this?

First of all, reader, please rest assured. As long as you are speaking from a place of kindness and a willingness to learn, you don't need to worry about using all the correct terminology. I always try to listen generously when people come to me in need, and I encourage our followers to do the same.

Unfortunately I can well believe that bigots like your biological relatives still exist. I'm glad you've been able to extract yourself from their hateful society, and have found comfort, support and kinship among the nightfolk.

You say there is a little voice in your head calling you a fraud, casting doubt on the validity of your feelings. As much as you might want to push it away and stop your ears, I want you to listen to that voice, just for a little while. Pay attention to the language it uses and what ideas it seems to have about the world.

And then ask yourself: is this my voice? Does that sound like me? Or does this sound like a last, desperate, wriggling remnant of the people I've worked so hard to distance myself from?

Every one of us is raised with a narrative, a story about the world and our place in it, and how we should treat the people around us. We're told that story by our parents, by our teachers and schoolmates, by television and books and a million other sources. The story is so vast and so all-encompassing, it takes an enormous effort to be able to see any single part of it clearly.

Imagine, then, how hard we have to work to realise some of that story is untrue, or harmful, fed by hatred and fear. To start untangling ourselves from the rotting, strangling roots of the story we've known all our lives, and start planting something new and fresh and honest.

It sounds to me like this little voice is one of those lingering strands of the story you were raised with – one where liminality is nothing to admire or strive for, and where you cannot be trusted to know your own mind, and your own needs. It's time to tell yourself a better story.

You've found people who honour you with their trust and who make you feel supported and loved, as you deserve. You admire them, and want to be like them. None of this sounds “stupid” to me.

This is not a decision to be taken lightly. By all means, take your time, and talk your feelings through with your family. But I think you already know what story you want for yourself, reader – and for what it's worth, I think the world will be better for its telling.

[For more creaturely advice, check out Monstrous Agonies on your podcast platform of choice, or visit monstrousproductions.org for more info]

[rita-repulsa-ke]

The Baby

Rio's breath, unneeded, stopped. “I could,” she said after another long, frozen moment, her voice a sepulchral whisper, cold and vast. “I choose not to.” She turned away. “Agatha, what are you going to do about the baby?”

My headcanon around the circumstances of Nicky's birth. This one is rough, warnings for infidelity, discussion of abortion, some stabbing and Agatha making the worst possible choices.

It was the oldest story in the book. One day, Agatha went to bed with someone.

Doesn’t matter who. Oh, he was charming and pretty and magically powerful, capable of almost matching her, but that wasn’t the reason.

If asked, she would have said there was no real reason. That wasn’t true. Instead, it was the normal mix of petty, stupid, human reasons. To prove she could, to prove she wasn’t bound as tightly as she knew she was. Above all else, prove to herself that someone would love her regardless, that there was nothing she could do to drive Rio away.

It wasn’t very good sex. It wasn’t who she wanted. She regretted it in the morning.

She met Rio on the road outside of town, Death in her green witch guise, her eyes dark with a fury that would have terrified anyone else.

In truth, it terrified Agatha, but for different reasons. Last night, she had been cruel, even for her. She had pushed Rio away, said nasty things to get her to leave and now she was afraid to find out what she had wrought.

So she did what she always did. She tried to pretend it hadn’t happened. “There you are! Let’s get going.”

“Agatha.” The world could hold still when Rio wanted it to, freeze-frame. Her lover's gaze pinned her in place, speared her through, and she could only barely manage to force a cocky smile to her lips.

“…do you want to stab me about it?" she asked. "Sometimes that makes you feel better.”

Rio sauntered forward, knife in hand. In her eyes were ugly promises, evisceration, vivisection, disembowelment, and for the first time in a very, very long time, Agatha was actually afraid of her lover, struck by the awareness that she couldn't stop Rio from doing whatever she wanted, not if she really wanted it. "You know, Ags, I think I do?"

"…Or," Agatha said, taking a step back and not liking the way that made a hungry smile play across Death’s face. "Or maybe we could talk about it?"

"What should we say? Let's see, what did you say last night? That you're a free woman, that you don't owe me anything, that you can do as you wish…"

Had she said all of that? It did sound like her and maybe she had been a touch intoxicated, on magic as much as drink, and she'd been having a good time and Rio had been ruining it, glowering and snarling and—

Her breathing was coming too fast. "Rio, wait."

The remaining space between them vanished, and Rio's knife cut into her bicep, deep into muscle, made her cry out even as a vine lashed around her leg, tore flesh in her calf and she was reminded that she really, really hated pain. "Rio, stop!" she said.

"Nope," Rio said, and here was another vine lashing out at her, thorns scraping her ribs, cutting her dress, leaving gashes on her skin.

Agatha blasted the vines with power, raw, messy. "Hey, come on," she said, her voice gone a touch shrill, heart in her mouth, but not in the literal sense she suddenly worried it might be. "It's me," she protested.

Rio's power hit her full in the chest, a river of black and green, slamming her back into a tree hard enough that she felt something in her chest crack. Her lover stared at her, expressionless, shaking her head and clicking her tongue.

Agatha hated pain and now her whole body was suffused with it, a sick, full-body throbbing, mixed with a side of terror, something else she hated. "Stop," she snarled, throwing power at Rio, aware she wasn't thinking straight. Death simply stepped around the blast, shoved her against the tree with a knife to her throat.

"Make me," Rio said, very softly. "Go ahead, Agatha. Show off for me."

Agatha couldn't seem to stop shaking. "…You're scaring me," she murmured and that did work, something in Rio's expression softened, became briefly confused and the knife at her throat didn't waver, but Rio's forehead pressed against hers and she could hear the other woman's unnecessary breathing, fast, ragged, frantic with emotion.

"Even for you, Ags. Even for you," she murmured.

Agatha saw it. The opportunity to, at least temporarily, fix it. To gather Rio to her, to touch her, kiss her, stroke her hair and sink to the ground wrapped around each other, a sure way to get them both on the same page.

But she was hurt, and scared and there was blood in her mouth, her own blood, and more than anything else, she despised feeling powerless. "Get off me," she snapped, imperious and tried not to cringe back as Rio shifted to stare at her, eyes filled with so many ugly deaths, strangulations, drownings and beatings, countless forms of stabbing.

"Beloved, at least apologize," Rio murmured, a hint of unpleasant laughter in her voice.

"No," Agatha snapped, her fury overwhelming her sense. "Why should I?" She saw the way Rio's eyes narrowed. "Going to make me? Is that what you want? Me cringing at your feet, begging for Death's pardon?"

The hurt in Rio's eyes eclipsed anything Agatha had ever seen. "…Apologize because you love me," Rio whispered and Agatha knew she should. This was where she should bend, should give in, not because she was afraid, but because she did love Rio, more than she'd ever thought possible.

But if there was one thing Agatha Harkness was excellent at, it was driving away everyone who'd ever loved her. She'd almost believed she couldn't do it with Death, that Rio really would never leave her. Now she saw an opportunity to prove her fundamental beliefs about the world right, at the expense of everything else she'd ever wanted.

"Make me," she sneered.

Rio's breath, unneeded, stopped. “I could,” she said after another long, frozen moment, her voice a sepulchral whisper, cold and vast. “I choose not to.” She turned away. “Agatha, what are you going to do about the baby?”

“What ba— “ Agatha said, but Rio was already gone.

Agatha waited until she was sure Death wasn't going to come back, then sunk down and sobbed like a child, from the pain and the fear, but more than anything, from the desperate desire to have Rio back.

Eventually, though, she had to get up and keep moving. What else could she do?

So she was pregnant. That was inconvenient, but barely so. She was a witch, she knew how to prepare a draught that would fix the problem, make her body miscarry naturally.

She mixed the whole thing together, and then stared at it. She’d never considered motherhood for even a moment prior to this one. She didn’t like children.

But all at once, she wanted to. She wanted to keep the child inside her. She wanted to learn their name, find out what delighted them, help them along their journey and never, ever make them feel unwanted.

And she was immortal. Eighteen years to raise a child to adulthood was a blip to her. Why shouldn’t she?

“I’m keeping it,” she told the air. “I’m going to keep the baby.”

Come back, she didn’t say. Do it with me. You’ve always liked children more than I have. Come on this journey with me like you have all the others.

She didn’t say any of it. It was too vulnerable, too weak, the opportunity for rejection too costly.

Anyway, Rio would be back. She was always going on and on about how she loved Agatha, would never leave her. She’d be back.

Only she wasn't.

Oh, she was there. Agatha could sense her, especially when she killed witches. She could feel Death watching and she did show off a little, tried to impress her invisible lover or make her laugh, though she never knew if she succeeded.

And sometimes she would wake to find the fire had been banked. As she got heavier and the pain got worse, her body changing on her, she found other signs that she was never really alone. Convenient herbs or the dead animals from her traps, cleaned and ready for cooking. Once a whole pot of willowbark tea, which made her sob hysterically, the swingy emotions of pregnancy overwhelming her.

Still, it was the loneliest she’d been since she had met Rio, made worse by everything else that was happening to her as a result of her choice. She was not the kind of witch who knew much about pregnancy, she had simply never cared before. Now she was discovering it all in real-time, finding that her bones hurt and her feet swelled and her body changed on her. Sometimes she regretted keeping the baby, but something else was changing in her, hormones and instinct as old as death combining to make her want to sacrifice herself for the person growing inside her.

Once, she murmured, “Just come back already,” but she received no answer.

So she went on, learned from midwives what to expect, didn't even kill most of them, and waited for the baby to come.

Until finally she did see Rio again, and for a moment, she could have wept from relief. Apologies almost spilled from her lips, or perhaps recriminations, but the intent would have been the same.

I missed you. Come back to me. Help me. Stay.

And then she'd met Death’s eyes and understood that the woman she loved was not there for her at all.

read the follow up What Must Be

[crest-fallen-0]

Ok this is a bit insane so hear me out but -BSD fandom. I’ve always had this hc of Dazai’s inhumanity, one which is very unpopular. For years. But hear me out, it’s what makes him so compelling.

Inter-dimensionality is something that BSD interacts with frequently. There is a consistent reappearance of reality’s moldability in a meta way, making the reader a literal part of the plot. “The book” is the literal text of BSD.

If the book exists as more than a janky mechanic within the story, then there is some level of shallowness and distortion about their world. Things like death aren’t always permanent, premonition and uncanny future telling are possible, and the concept of the book implies the existence of a destiny in the plot, (or a predetermined outcome), sometimes paradoxically. What is written will happen, and what will happen will be written. The concept of time and of consequence literally exist as an object within this universe. ‘Fate’ or ‘destiny’ can be physically held.

Dazai has been criticized for always knowing things, for having an unreasonable level of foresight about the plot. This is usually attributed to his smarts, but it goes a bit beyond that, and beyond pattern recognition. A good way to see this is to compare him to Ranpo. The two seem to be operating with different tools. Ranpo is almost a little unsettled by Dazai (and Fyodor).

Dazai shows a level of emotional premonition and mastering of reality that’s freaky.

My theory is that this “plot armor” is an actual type of tool used by characters within the story, is their sort of connection with the fabric of the shallow universe (or the pages of the book). This is another layer of interaction with reality that Dazai especially (although sometimes others) have.

Add this to Dazai’s character traits, especially in the manga. He sort of deftly moves the pieces, and we get the sense that this is purposeful. He doesn’t seem to ostensibly do anything besides make outrageous plans which always work, he cannot fight reliably nor really deduce well on the spot (or he never does this out loud), yet, whenever he is around, everything sort of peacefully moves where it should. He has to be forcefully removed from the plot in order to cause the maximum amount of drama in more arcs than not. I think we’re supposed to believe that Fyodor (who is the only one approaching Dazai in this otherworldly aura), against the ADA (without Dazai) would win, and Dazai against the DOA (without Fyodor) would win. Ranpo can see things, but he is ultimately sort of helpless to this progression, whereas Dazai and Fyodor sit above. Everything is in their game of chess.

I believe Dazai is also emotionally unrealistic for a human portrayal, and this is where I’m gonna get flayed, especially because I don’t have the space to go into every detail (maybe later). He seems emotionally distanced from every but a select few characters. His relationship with Atsushi feels a bit groomy (as in the creation of a tool rather than sexually).

I feel Dazai is fundamentally bored. He is a character, despite all of his control, of unfulfilled desire. He wants to die, he desires it in his pursuit of pleasure, but he cannot, in an unsettlingly supernatural way (when removed from the bit). He says, “Everything worth wanting is lost the moment I obtain it.”

He is ultimately active, and acting (in a fundamental sense), but he wants to be acted upon. He enjoys being yelled at, causing anger, he seems to preen under fury, he likes to flirt with the edge, and it never seems to quite take him. His plans are outrageous because they always seem to deliver him into the arms of death, just from something to pull him away at the last minute (often Chuuya) .

Anyways, don’t murder me, just scroll pls TT.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Overlord | A Little Crush 

“Oh, my–who is this?”

You had been allowed to sit in on the meeting with Ainz, reading his hidden plea that you actually help him understand some of this. Of course under the guise of learning the guardians pay no mind in fact their barely able to contain their excitement to see both you and Ainz.

“That is the insolent emperor of the Vassal country of Baharuth Empire–”

Albedo continued to spew insults but you couldn’t help the heat that spread all over when you looked at his purple-pink irises. You put the picture down before your typical smile could change too much instead using your abilities to inform, Ainz as you promised.

‘Scared him into submission? I don’t remember doing anything but making peace before…’

‘Demiurge is specifically thinking about your appearance at the match…apparently, he was trying to meet with the Slane theocracy but your showing up immediately scared him into submission. Wow! Good job, Ainz!’

‘No good job! I didn’t even know that was happening!”

‘Sure. Sure.’

The meeting continued, which ensured a constant struggle as you tried not to look at the image they had crafted. When it ended you fought with yourself not to take the image instead opting to use your power to photocopy the image onto paper later…or maybe a body pillow.

“Jircniv huh? What a cutie!”

______________________________________________________________

You didn’t have Ainz’s emotional regulator…that much was clear. Yet in the beginning, your true emotions illuded the guardians of Nazarick. But after many months of observation and talking with you they picked up on the subtle signs. Like today the heat emanating from your body, the way you crossed your legs, the bite of your lip to restrict the larger smile–it was all too clear.

“FOR A CRETIN LIKE THAT NO LESS!?” Albedo smashed the table. 

Demiurge rose, fighting the urge to angrily thrash his tail about. 

“Calm yourself Albedo…this could just be mere interest. (Y/n)-sama has expressed a growing interest in politics…we shouldn’t be so quick to judge!”

“B-but they n-never looked at anyone else like that!” Mare spoke sharing worried eye contact with his sister who returned the favor.

“At this rate…they’ll like them more than us!”

A pregnant silence hung over the room; each of the floor guardians imagining horrifying images of you leaving them for a mere human. Some were of you on the emperor’s arm in wedding garments, others had you sharing a milkshake and feeding the emperor, and another had you promising to run away with the dreaded emperor. Fear and horror enveloped all in the room bringing them to their knees as they reeled in pain. Amidst this Cocyutus took a stand, prepared to bring these worries to light. 

“I say…we bring our concerns to Ainz-sama!”

“YES!” “Y-yeah!” “I agree.” 

______________________________________________________________

It doesn’t take long for Ainz to see this behavior himself. Hearing your telepathic giggles when you open the same page in the book you’ve been reading for a month is enough confirmation for him. And like always he is the one left to make the hard-hitting decision.

“AINZ-SAMA I suggest I personally help quell their sexual needs!”

“I’m more equipped to take care of them, ariska. ”

“Are you kidding, Mare and me cuddle with them all the time! Maybe you should make them do more with us!”

“Y-yeah!” 

“Perhaps they simply wish to explore its healthy for youngins to—”

“Shut up Cocuyutus!” “Grrrr!” “Quiet Cocyutus, ariska!” 

And while he agrees you’re boredom is probably a good indicator it’s also because you’re you. He’s sure if he knew you in his old world or even in his guild this would have been normal. As your technical guardian, he shouldn’t really interfere…but even he can’t help but be annoyed with the telepathic squeals you keep making. So maybe on a whim, he’ll make a judgment call. 

“A trip to the Vassal state?”

“Yes, it's important that you publicly integrate yourself with the Sorcerer Kingdom.”

‘Do you want to?’

“I’m especially grateful!! I’ll take my mission with pride!” 

‘Yes!!! Thanks, Ainz!’

Your telepathic voice warms his nonexistent heart and he sends you away with Aura and Mare. He hopes their presence will deter any acting out on the Emperor’s end and as a deterrent from you possibly…deepening relations. At the guardian's insistence, Ainz sets up a magic glass to watch you from. So with great anticipation, they all watch as you pull away in your carriage pulled by the undead as you make your way to the Baharath Empire. 

______________________________________________________________

“Oh, Aura Mare now that we’re practically here I’ve suddenly become so nervous!” 

You nervously mused playing with your headdress and veil resting on your lap. You could see through the carriage with your power easily; watching the people of the Baharuth Empire look on in astonishment. But your nervousness wasn’t about meeting people at least not entirely, you were going to meet the man who plagued your imagination with his face for the last month. 

“U-uhm (Y-Y/n)-sama why are y-you so nervous! You’re the most amazing Supreme being next to Ainz-sama s-so y-you should be c-confident.” 

Mare peeped out, blushing as he complimented you. You gave him a loving smile patting your gloved hand on the tip of his clenched fists causing him to release. 

“Thank you Mare, for reminding me! It’s just I’m more nervous about meeting one particular person.”

“Oh? Who is this particular person? Have they done something that we should punish them for?”

Aura probed leaning close to you as if on the verge of discovery. While Aura understood good and well that the Emperor was the cause of this she couldn’t place how; or why the guardians were so averse to it. She guessed it was similar to the way Albedo felt about Ainz but you didn’t do anything as she does so she was stumped…how could a weak human have anything against a Supreme Being like you?

You giggled, “Oh Aura, you’re so cute! I’ll tell you when you’re older!”

She blushed at your statement hiding her face against the corner of the carriage as she mulled against her shaken resolve. She just couldn’t help but crumble when your attention was solely focused on her like that. In a way, she related to big sis Albedo a bit. 

With your Sorcerer headdress resembling Ainz and a dark veil covering your face you stepped out of your carriage with Yuri lending you a hand out of the carriage with a bow of respect. 

“Presenting (Y/n)-sama, the flower of the Sorcer Kingdom!” 

The people guffawed as you traveled up the stairs of the Emperor’s palace, many whispering words of awe as you made your way up the steps. Thankfully the people were so focused on you that they failed to notice the twins who so easily killed a great mass of people before their vassal status. 

The guide into the palace was one of his personal guard, fighting the tremble in his voice as he recognized Aura and Mare. Passing by various staff and soldiers you drew their attention easily many dropping weapons or papers as they watched you for as long as they would be let. Past a set of golden double doors you finally laid eyes upon the deeply bowing emperor. 

“Jircniv Rune Farlord El-Nix, at your service.”

It was a demeaning bow for someone called the “bloody emperor” and you couldn’t help feeling pity. Already knowing what you wished Yuri cleared her throat and demanded that his personal guard and any remaining staff clear the room. She even sent a look towards the twins who pouted until you turn to them with a pleading tilt of your head. Sulking they excused themselves finally leaving you and Jircniv, with the exception of Yuri, all alone.

Worldlessly she bowed towards you once more before raising your veil, you smile when shock overtakes his face. 

“Its a pleasure to meet you Jircniv! I hope you can show me the best Baharuth Empire has to offer.”

“Of course my liege!” 

______________________________________________________________

When Jircniv had been informed of a visit from Nazarick he near crapped himself in fear that it be in reprimand to his attempt to betray...but when he heard that the “Flower of Nazarick”was in attendance he relaxed…a little. This probably was the final nail in the coffin for him, pulling at his hair and cursing his hubris he ordered the best for your arrival. Even as you arrived with those dreaded dark elves as guards he was sure you would be the one to rip out his heart. 

To that, he was right. The lifting of your veil was the fist, tightly grasping his heart as it slowly revealed your face to him. The pulling was the ethereal gleam of your smile and voice. In complete juxtaposition from Ainz Ooal Gown you glowed with a heartwrenching presence that had him practically becoming a puddle on the floor. If he were a lesser man he would have been far to floored to look away to bow even harder than before but he was an emperor for blood’s sake.

Immediately he rearranged the whole plan for the day, changing seating arrangements that would have put space between you two to eliminating them entirely. Offering his hand to you when there was so much of a change in tiles. Even when maid with the gauntlets threatened to kill him for overstepping he remained steadfeast. All his fear had dissipated the moment you revealed your face, he wondered if it was some sort of sorcery that made him so infatuated. If it was, he doubted he’d ever wanted it removed. Even when your veil dropped over your face again and he felt misery take hold of his being once more–he still didn’t want to be relieved of this joy. Watching you feast on the various delicacies as they disappeared behind your veil overtook him with a feeling of pride.

Hearing the relayed words of joy as you experienced the different activities and festivals he had prepared in your honor. Had him swooning all the more, completely nulling the deathly glares from the elves that had so easily lay waste to his army.

“Ahem (Y/n)-sama would like to thank you for the griffin egg, tch, they say they will be thinking of you when they raise it.”

“I’m honored, my highness!”

Hardly able to hold back his tears when you must retire he takes a bold step that leaves all your guardians itching to pulverize him. A kiss against your gloved hand before you dismiss yourself for the night is all it is. 

“Good night, oh luscious flower of Nazarick! I’ll be counting the seconds until I may see you again!”

In the comfort of your room with Aura and Mare sitting on the grand bed you received they watch as you float about as you scream into the various pillows.

“Keeee he actually said that to me! OhmigoshOhmigoshOhmigosh! Can you believe he said that to me!? Hehehe!”

So enveloped in your joy you fail to register the dark shadows that have cast over Aura’s and Mare’s faces. 

“Yeah…it sure is great…”

“Isn’t it? Who’d think he’d be so sweet! Especially on the first day, too! Weeee, its just like those romance fanfics–”

“U-uhm (Y/n)-sama? C-can y-you tell me how g-good I was today!? I followed Ainz-sama’s and your orders and I didn’t hurt any humans!

Mare’s outburst had Aura incredulously looking at her twin. Especially because she knew well and good how many times her twin opened the ground to swallow the humans following after your entourage. But she watched as your floated back down to the bed pulling Mare into your chest as you pet his head, she hurriedly crawled to your other side.

“M-me too! Do me too (Y/n)-sama!” 

“Okay okay you two get over here!” 

Miles away in the safety of Nazarick the other guardians watched as the glass ball they had been watching from received a crack. 

They weren’t the only ones who were regretting letting you leave.

On a completely personal level...

This man just sends me...

I wanna bite so bad I don't know why! 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

[notmorbid]

blizzard.

dialogue prompts from blizzard: a novel by marie vingtras.

there'll always be as many ways to do things as there are people on earth.

'rotgut' doesn't begin to cover it.

staying alive isn't something you can just figure out as you go.

that would really be something: to live through everything i have, only to die now.

i wish i'd listened. maybe i'd have known what to do.

you don't look like you're after a taste of the wild.

i shouldn't have brought you here.

mother nature never goes easy on you.

rita hayworth has nothing on you.

don't ask me to stay here. that would be the death of me.

sometimes it feels like i'm starting to disappear.

when i was little, i only had one screw loose.

i never feel lost in a big crowd. it's like being in a school of fish.

what good am i for a kid?

how do you know everything about everything?

pay attention, and that'll show you everything you need.

i've got a real knack for getting myself into the shit.

won't you stop acting like a big deal, every once in a while?

nobody likes the one who's laying down the law.

i didn't figure you for that sort, actually.

only blameless souls have any right to sleep.

you can make a whole world out of maybes.

things usually don't turn out the way we hope.

i reckoned god would be with me. that was how i was raised.

staying angry is what kept me going.

it hurts so much, not to be loved.

everyone has at least one secret.

there's enough to learn without having to open a book.

i suspect you were made for leaving, and i was made for staying.

all things are fleeting, especially happiness.

you can push things away, but they'll always come back to you. just like that.

i don't have anything a thief would care about.

i don't hate ____. what use would it be?

it's not like you, not to know what to do.

silly me, thinking that something could turn out right.

luck's never on my side, no matter what i do.

you look at me like i'm not all human.

i felt like i'd met you before, and you were waiting on me.

maybe we never really do know people.

you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.

how can you sleep, after what happened?

you should come over for dinner sometime.

you can't stop living your own life to run after a ghost.

never be the bearer of bad news. you can get your head cut off that way.

a bill always comes due. and when it does, one way or another, you pay up.

apparently, i've done every small job that's to be had in this country.

i had no idea how much a mother and her daughter could hate each other.

sometimes it's only when you stop thinking that you see what's staring you in the face.

i've run out of words for how far up shit creek i've gotten.

sometimes it's the ones who are gone who take up the most space, not the ones who are there.

i'm not used to folks wanting to protect me. i don't know how to make sense of that.

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Hiya! So I saw your request box is open again. In that case, I Hope you don't mind me requesting something.

You know how in pretty much all the Archon Fics it's said that Reader is much weaker than the Archon obsessed with them? Well what if that wasn't the case, and by some miracle reader is actually more powerfull than the Archons?

Sorry if it didn't make much sense, you have the right to ignore this Ask if you don't want to write for it.

- 🐶 anon

i love this idea so much! i can't really see a case where they would be stronger than the Archons unless it was a situation much like travelor but i didn't wanna copy that so i hope you enjoy! :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including delusional behaviors, obsessive behaviors, mentions of violence against reader, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Yandere!Venti doesn’t care how much stronger you think you are then him, he’s got the real power here. He’s fought in wars, raised hell like no other before him. He may not have been the first Anemo Archon, but there’s a reason he’s the one everyone talks about versus Decarabian, the original Anemo Archon. He’ll use any dirty trick or tactic to get you back under his control, disorienting you with wings so strong you can’t breathe, intense dreams that have you waking up in a cold sweat, even resorting to gaslighting you so intensely you could never imagine standing up to him.

“Oh dear, don’t you see it? You aren’t that strong. You’d have been worshiped like the beloved Archons if you were anyone with true power.” Venti smiles at you sweetly, a faint bitterness to his tone as he tries to calm you down. You had gone a little stir crazy after being locked in the apartment with him for so long, and he couldn’t blame you for it. But now he needed you to calm down, while he could use all the dirty tricks in the books to slow you down, he knew that if you caught on to his schemes and realized that you really did hold the power, him and everything he’d worked so hard for in this relationship would be over.

Yandere!Zhongli would be indifferent to your strength. Be as strong as you want, you’ll never be strong enough to break his shield. He’ll simply stand there, shield standing as strong and firm as it has been as you slowly tire yourself out, beating yourself black and blue against his impenetrable wall. He doesn’t need to fight you, you fight yourself enough every day trying to get away from him, but he’ll never let you leave.

“You really ought to stop this my sweet, you’re only making yourself look pathetic.” Zhongli’s soft, monotone voice reaches your ears as you slump to your knees in exhaustion. Your hands were bloody from all the fighting you had done, the vital fluid making a gently dripping noise as it hit the ground every so often. When Zhongli was certain you weren’t going to continue, your determination having worn down with your mortal flesh, he’ll disperse his shield, beginning on your medical care. “There we go my sweet, just relax, and remember. Humans bruise a lot easier than real gods.”

Yandere!Raiden has far too much battle experience under her belt to be so easily overpowered. Regardless of how much power you wield, it isn’t always about the strength but rather how you use it. She’ll continue to beat you in every battle, breaking down your pride and hope little by little as she knocks you off your feet, slashes against your skin, sends you flying across rooms, whatever it takes to show you who is superior here.

“You should give up already, you will never beat me. When you can slay beasts the size of islands perhaps then we can consider a real battle. You claim to hold so much power but what good is it if you cannot even utilize it?” Raiden’s voice has that same, eerie calmness to it as it always does. The way she carries herself as she walks slowly across the Plane of Euthymia, the chosen battlefield, holds that same, strange calmness to it. It’s almost as if she doesn’t find any threat in your attacks, not only dodging and deflecting them with ease, but also counter-attacking with the kind of expertise only someone centuries old could have. She didn’t secure her land in the Archon War by just swinging her sword about wildly, no, she fought like a proper expert should.

Yandere!Furina would be distraught internally. She may be the Hydro Archon but she has never fought in any grand wars or had any grand display of power to boast about. Her predecessor, Egeria, was the grandiose one, she was merely the replacement. She isn’t entirely sure how to keep you from leaving, oftentimes having to resort to getting help from Neuvillette to keep you contained.

“Neuvillette!” A shrill scream echoed through said dragon’s office, the doors slamming open as Furian waltzed in. “They got out again, I need your help.” A common occurrence as of late, with Furina being unwilling to fight her beloved head-on, she often resorted to pestering the long-haired male for help. Of course, once she got you home and secured again she’d flip her lid on you, but for now, her main focus was getting you there. The strategy as of late, one you hadn’t seemed to recognize yet, was that she would distract you with some petty argument, one that is often what resulted in you leaving in the first place, while Neuvillette sneaks up and knocks you out from behind. While this works for now, she knows she’ll eventually have to change it up, you are unfortunately smart.

[3months2mordor]

On Hobbits and Existential Dread

or Why “The Scouring of the Shire” is the True Climax of The Lord of the Rings

In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Or more accurately, there lived a human who had been in hard COVID quarantine for six months and certainly felt like a hobbit, what with all the staying inside and eating second breakfast and trying her best to ignore the world, which seemed in the summer of 2020 to be spiraling towards something unknown. And she, well I, was packing for college. On an impulse that I cannot explain except to say that I had previously binge watched all the movies in my seemingly infinite quaran-time, I packed a large red volume of JRR Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings with the intention to read it over the course of the semester.

What began as a simple personal challenge to read a chapter a night instead of doom scrolling on Twitter became a profound experience not only in terms of discovering that my parents were right in saying the book was actually really good, but also in realizing that the Hobbits, in their edenic Shire perched on the edge of a world about to enter catastrophe, were more like me, more like a lot of us, than Aragorn or the Elves or Dwarves or Men who people Middle Earth. And here is why the chapter at the very end of the last book where the Shire is nearly destroyed is so very, very important.

Tolkien takes careful time in his books to establish the attitudes and habits of his hobbits who live in pastoral harmony in near complete isolation from the rest of the world. They are content with what they have and don’t have the greed that drives Dwarves to dig, or the ambition that drives Men to war, or even the worship of nature that drives Elves deep into their forests to protect them. They build their hobbit holes, smoke what is definitely pot, and eat and drink heartily. They care little for news of the outside world and tend their fields instead. That’s it.

But the world does not cease to exist just because they want it to. It never does.

As Gandalf warns in Rivendale, “We are sitting in a fortress. Outside it is growing dark.” (Part 1 Book 2 Chapter 1).

Regardless of how much the hobbits might ignore the coming of the Dark Lord Sauron and the existential threat that is his attempt to control the world, it will not go away. They will not be safe from the darkness just because they want to be and they have a supply of candles in the cupboard. And so, at the start of the story, evil comes to the Shire in the form of the Black Riders and Frodo, our hero, must leave to keep the Shire safe from the forces of darkness. Still Frodo is just a hobbit, albeit a brave one. So he laments to Gandalf, “I wish it need not have happened in my time” and Gandalf replies “So do I, and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” (Part 1 Book 1 Chapter 2).

I feel this quote more deeply every year. A deep childish wish for things to exist as we expected them to be, but a solemn and more mature knowledge that Gandalf is right. That our time has already been given to us. All that we have left is what we do to make that time matter.

But back to Frodo, who takes a good seventeen years to heed this advice, but eventually sets off on an adventure to save the Shire which, spoiler alert, ultimately saves the world. Along the way people despair and seem to lose hope. Theoden, recovering from a spell that robbed him of agency and clearsightedness, cries “Alas! That these evil days should be mine, and should come in my old age instead of that peace which I have earned” (Part 2 Book 3 Chapter 6). Even Sam, in his darkest hour thinking he has lost Frodo for good, groans “I wish I wasn’t the last. I wish old Gandalf was here, or somebody. What am I left all alone to make up my mind? I’m sure to go wrong” (Part 2 Book 4 Chapter 10).

Yet despite it all the One Ring is destroyed and the King returns and good wins. Everything is set right and our heroes get a chance to rebuild the world rather than watch it crumble. They get to go home.

Now this is a fine story and one I desperately needed amongst all of the *everything* going on in 2020. However it is not the ending that stuck with me. For you see once Frodo and his companions return home, the Shire is not the same place they left it.

The Shire, in their year long absence, has descended into a despotic police state run by a wealthy, privileged hobbit who stays in his hole rather than try to help his people as Men, who tower over the hobbits, and are specifically and on multiple occasions called bullies, abuse their power. They use their strength to take food and (let’s face it) weed from the hobbits, desecrate their land with deforestation and pollution, and create a state of fear and paranoia that anyone could be taken at any moment to prison without trial after only a mere whiff of seditious behavior. The world has come to the hobbits and they are so paralyzed with fear that they are unable to do anything other than sit in their hobbit holes and keep their heads down, hoping that they and their families will make it through.

Now, Frodo and his companions, having seen the change that can be wrought from people who stand up to bullies and fight to make a difference, see the state of their home and immediately understand the despair their friends and neighbors have fallen into because they too have felt it. These are the hobbits who faced thousands of orcs and rode in battle and walked to Mount Doom with only each other to lean on and they know how deeply despair of impossible odds can affect someone. But they have also learned that that despair is not inevitable. They saw the Ents on their last march when Treebeard said it was “likely enough that we are going to our doom… But if we stayed at home and did nothing the doom would find us anyway, sooner or later. That thought has been long growing in our hearts; and that is why we are marching now” (Part 2 Book 3 Chapter 4). They saw the Rohirrim ride to battle against impossible odds because it was the right thing to do. They saw even the most pitiful Gollum play his part in saving the world. And they saw the Eagles fly in to help carry the day.

There’s always hope if there’s something worth fighting for.

And so, back in the Shire which was not the Shire they knew but still the one they love, the four heroic hobbits do what had once seemed impossible: they get the hobbits, in their apathy and terror and existential despair, to stand up and fight. And it’s hard, and people die, and it gets worse before it gets better, but in the end the bullies are run off and the hobbits are victorious and they begin to rebuild, not just their homes but their forests and their relationships with each other too.

The hobbits, and me really, wanted to curl up in their holes and hope the world would go away. And sometimes, God, that seems like it’s the only thing you can do when darkness is spreading far on the horizon and it keeps creeping closer but isn’t here yet. But Sauron is not the scariest thing in this book. Tolkien’s real villain was the fear and despair that can paralyze you to stay in your hole until the Shire is burning around you. Yet even the most comfortable and secure hobbits have to stand up and face the world because if we don't, no one else will.

There is a reason Frodo is able to see the mission to the end. And it’s not that he’s exceptional in the way other heroes are. No. In fact it is because he is unexceptional and unambitious and also uncompromising that the deed is able to be done. He, like the hobbits he helps at the end of the series, has to get up and work to fight the evil that hurts people every day. And Frodo doesn’t save the hobbits of the Shire; they save themselves. Then they rebuild. They grow things again, not better, not the same, but they have to go on living. And, I don’t know, I needed to realize that.

We aren’t Aragorn with a throne and a legendary sword and a destiny to be king, we aren’t the Elves with their centuries of knowledge and skills, we aren’t the Dwarves with their mountain holds to hide in. Heck, we’re not even Frodo, or at least I’m not. There’s no way I could handle a walk that long. We’re the hobbits. We see the existential wave of dread and terror that is coming and our instinct to hide from it, to hold it off as long as we can and then silently accept it when it comes. Because what can one little halfling do against a thing like that?

But even the hobbits of the Shire stand up eventually. Even hobbits can take that dread for a bleak future and turn around and create new life. There’s a reason why the symbol of the Shire returning to peace and throwing off the yolk of oppression is a tree. The bullies cut down Bilbo’s old one and it can’t come back. But Sam plants a new one anyway and hopes it will grow.

I’m reading the Lord of the Rings again before this election as I did last time. But this time I’m not alone. I’m reading it with friends. I marked passages like the ones above that made me think but also ones that made me laugh because there is joy in amongst the shadows and if we cannot find those moments it’s hard to keep looking for the light. In rewatching The Two Towers film the other day I was struck, as I usually am, by Sam’s speech at the end of the movie, based on one he gives in “The Stairs of Cirith Ungol.” I think it bears quoting in full.

Sam: It’s all wrong By rights we shouldn’t even be here. But we are. It’s like in the great stories Mr. Frodo. The ones that really mattered. Full of darkness and danger they were, and sometimes you didn’t want to know the end. Because how could the end be happy. How could the world go back to the way it was when so much bad happened. But in the end, it’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. And when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer. Those were the stories that stayed with you. That meant something. Even if you were too small to understand why. But I think, Mr. Frodo, I do understand. I know now. Folk in those stories had lots of chances of turning back only they didn’t. Because they were holding on to something.

Frodo: What are we holding on to, Sam?

Sam : That there’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.

Hobbits are remarkable people, Tolkien says, and I hope we are too. I hope we can get through this by raising up our own Shires full of hobbit warriors to face the world and not lie down and give up. Because if everyone did that there would still be a One Ring and Sauron would rule forever.

But we have to save the Shire. It’s only a passing thing, this shadow. Even darkness must pass. A new day will come. We have to believe that. I have to. I will do my part to make sure it does, but first I have to believe it’s possible. We have to take that existential terror and turn it into righteous fury because we have seen what a shadow can do and we cannot let it spread again. We have been there. But we will not go back again.