#I’m on Bedlam now!

[greykolla-art]

Skulduggery only has two moods when it comes to the kids in his life.🙏

(I know Val isn’t really a kid, but…She’s 25 and Skul is 450. 😂)

(And I must simply state how much I care about Omen Darkly.💗 he’s so sweet and way too good for Skul and Val’s tornado of trauma.👏)

[wolfchanw]

Two nights ago, Bedlam got into the food bowl of a dog we’re pet sitting and ate about 3/4 cup of FreshPet refrigerated dog food. This has kicked off a miserable two days.

It started the first night with her asking to go out every hour from 1am onward. I got her some diagel (a diarrhea medication) and prescription GI food from her vet, and then the vomiting started. We went back to the vet for fluids and anti-nausea medicine.

She ate half a can of prescription food last night and slept about 8 hours, so I hoped we were past the worst. I gave her more anti-nausea medicine and another half can of food and went on my merry way to run some errands.

When the errands were over the house was….a literal shitstorm. It was bad. We went to the ER and she was diagnosed with pancreatitis. She’s stable enough that the ER doc felt she could be treated at home instead of hospitalized, so we’ve added an antibiotic and spent the evening hanging out in the backyard so she didn’t have to ask to go out constantly.

Please send some healing vibes, my poor Bedlam is feeling pretty miserable and I’m really distressed that I can’t help her any more right now.

[tricktster]

When I was in 8th (or possibly 9th?) grade physical sciences class we had a movie day where we watched videos about the elements.

Except that one of my classmates (who I will refer to here as Mike M) decided to write “SHCOOL GO BOOM” (sic) in a library book the day prior…

And, you know, the scarred-by-the-very-recent-9/11 administration decided late in the day that it constituted a bomb threat so credible that we all had to evacuate to the gym, so as a result we only got through a video about exactly one element:

74

W

(That’s Tungsten for you lame-os who don’t know the most likely periodic table symbols to come up during pub trivia.)

Also, it was one of my first bomb threats and clearly mildly traumatic given that I cannot remember a single other thing about that class, including the name of the teacher, but boy oh boy do I remember that we only made it through Tungsten.

Anyway, this video was specifically about how we are running out of Tungsten, which will cause absolute bedlam because Tungsten is essential for the filament used in incandescent light bulbs. I believe it posited that if we kept consuming Tungsten at our current rate, by 2060 we wouldn’t be able to light our homes.

At the time, this was not particularly concerning for me, a child who did not purchase lightbulbs.

Anyway, what’s up, it’s 2025, I now use like 100% LED RGBICWW smart bulbs that I have set up in a variety of elaborate routines to confound and annoy my loved ones, but I gotta hand it to you Mike M…

This may have not been the desired effect you were going for when you wrote SHCOOL GO BOOM in that library book circa roughly 2002, but now whenever something goes remotely wrong with my dumb dumb smart lights, even though I intellectually know there is no filament involved, my first thought is always

OH FUCK NOW I GOTTA DEPLETE OUR LIMITED TUNGSTEN RESERVE YET AGAIN AND AT THIS RATE WHEN I’M SEVENTY I’LL HAVE TO USE A FUCKING CANDLE

[mrsbuckybarnes1917]

4. When Santa was a Super Soldier

A Soldier's Touch < Masterlist > The Soldier, The Falcon and the Christmas Cheer

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: You and Bucky volunteer at a Children's Home

Word Count: 2.6k

There was chaos in the group home when you and Bucky arrived. In the background, you could see the warm glow of Christmas lights spilling out of the windows, the raucous sound of laughter from children permeated through the walls and the faint hum of holiday music made the place feel alive with festive cheer. You had convinced Bucky to come with you with almost a week of gentle persuasion. He had been very hesitant at first, worried that his presence would upset the children. But you had taken his hand in yours, and with that wonderful smile which reflected through your eyes, you’d said, “They won’t see the things you’re afraid of. They’ll see the strong, kind man I see every day.”

Now here he was, standing at the threshold of the large house, his shoulders hunched over. He shot you a skeptical glance and murmured, “You sure this is a good idea?” 

“Absolutely,” you replied, your voice firm but warm. “Besides, who could be scared of Santa’s helper?”

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Fine, but I’m not wearing a stupid costume.”

Unfortunately your arrival wasn’t met with quite the enthusiasm that you’d expected. Instead of open arms, the staff had their arms raised in panic. In short, there was complete bedlam. One of them stopped when they spotted you and Bucky and stopped for a moment to explain and usher you in. Apparently, the janitor had agreed to play Santa and the orphanage had hired a suit for him and an elf suit for his wife. Unfortunately the janitor had called in sick, the couple had unfortunately come down with the flu, not uncommon at this time of year. The staff knew that they couldn’t risk the health of a lot of children despite the disappointment they would feel.

“We’re scrambling to find a replacement,” the staff member said apologetically, “but it’s short notice…”

You and Bucky are left standing alone in the corridor. Bucky had a grim expression, feeling like the dark cloud that surrounded him was expanding. “This was a bad idea.” 

“Oh, no! I think we arrived just in time,” your eyes brightened and you grabbed his arm.

Bucky looked down at your mischievous face, understanding dawning on him. “No,” he said immediately, shaking his head.

“Bucky…” your voice filled with a mixture of reproach and pleading.

“I’m not doing it,” he said sullenly.

You tiptoed up to be closer to his face and lowered your voice. “Come on, Buck, they are just kids. You don’t want them to be disappointed, do you?”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably, clenching his vibranium fist and your heart melted.

“They won’t judge you, baby. They are going to love you, just like I do. You’d make a great Santa. You’ve got the muscles for carrying all those toys. Plus, I bet you’d look great in red.”

He looked at you for a long moment, his jaw tight, before sighing deeply. “Fine. But if this backfires, you owe me pancakes for a month.”

With a beaming smile, you agreed, “Deal.”

While Bucky was herded off to the janitor’s closet to change into the Santa suit, you slipped into the elf costume the group home staff handed you, laughing to yourself at how ridiculous you looked. It was a flared velvety red dress with an emerald green jacket with matching stockings. By the time you returned to the main room, the children were clearly growing restless. Your appearance was greeted with cheers and the kids crowded around you asking after Santa. You did your best to placate them, while craning your neck to the door where you expected Bucky to enter from. When he did eventually step out moments later, his transformation was complete. The red suit fit snugly over his broad frame, a snowy white beard, and his hat slightly askew. He looked every bit the part, though his face betrayed his unease.

His appearance was met with a solemn silence, multiple pairs of innocent eyes round as saucers as they took in the sight of him. Under the fake beard, you could see Bucky’s face, his expression frozen, bracing for a rejection. But then a tall girl who was standing at the back yelled loudly, “Santa’s here!” The room erupted into cheers, and before Bucky could blink, the kids were swarming him, tugging on his suit and pulling him toward the chair set up by the tree.

“See?” you smirked and whispered under your breath as he passed you. It wasn’t very loud but you knew he would hear you. “They love you already.”

He shot you a look that was equal parts gratitude and exasperation, then settled into the chair, letting out a hearty, if slightly awkward, “Ho, ho, ho!”

You approached the young teen who had stayed out of the way of the smaller children. “Not interested in getting your gift requests in?” you smiled at her, twirling a candy cane between your fingers.

“Too old for that stuff,” she said with a shrug, crossing her arms in a way that seemed more like a shield, keeping people at arm’s length. Her eyes darted over to the cluster of kids already clambering over Bucky, their laughter ringing through the room as he hoisted a little boy onto his lap with surprising ease. The corners of her mouth twitched upward briefly before she looked away, feigning indifference.

You tilted your head, watching her for a moment. “Doesn’t mean you can’t still believe in a little magic,” you said gently.

She snorted, her tough exterior cracking just a little. “Magic doesn’t do much when you grow up.”

“I don’t know,” you said, glancing toward Bucky, who was now dramatically pretending to wobble under the weight of three kids climbing on him. “Looks like there’s some magic happening over there. And if you ask me, you’re never too old to hope for something good… or to let someone surprise you.”

The girl hesitated, her eyes flicking to the crowd around Santa Bucky. After a long moment of silence, she huffed and uncrossed her arms. “Fine, Mrs. Claus,” she said sarcastically. “But I’m not sitting on his lap.”

You smiled, walking up to Bucky alongside her. “Deal. But he’s a pretty good listener. You might want to give him a shot.”

As she approached the group, you stayed back, watching as she lingered at the edge of the crowd. You decided to get the other childrens’ attention by shouting, “Who wants candy canes?”

Immediately you were attacked by hundreds of sticky fingers, leaving the teenage girl alone. Bucky spotted her almost immediately, his sharp blue eyes softening under the ridiculous fake beard. He gestured for her to come closer with a warm smile, and to your surprise, she did. She sat down beside him and you tried to listen in but you couldn’t hear anything over the din of the squeaky voices demanding candy. Whatever she said to him made Bucky’s expression grow serious, and he nodded, responding with a calm, steady voice that seemed to make her relax. By the time she stood up, there was a faint smile on her face, and she looked lighter somehow, like a weight had lifted.

When she passed you on her way to the snack table, you couldn’t help but ask, “So, what’d you tell him?”

She shrugged again, but this time there was a spark in her eyes. “Nothing much. Just stuff I don’t really talk about. He… he was nice about it.”

“Yeah, he’s good at that.” You glanced back at Bucky who was laughing as a boy placed a candy cane under his nose like a mustache. “I think it's my turn to sit in Santa’s lap. What do you think?”

The young teen stopped and rolled her eyes at you, but an amused smirk appeared on her face. “You? On Santa’s lap? Aren’t you a little old for that?” she said a little sarcastically.

“Hey!” you cried defensively. “There’s no age limit on wish-making.” 

A little boy pushed past the teen, “Move Sophie! Quit hogging the candy lady!” he squeaked.

You placed candy canes in the little hands that tugged at your skirt. “Besides,” you continued your conversation with Sophia, “Someone’s gotta make sure he’s doing his job right.”

She chuckled and walked off, shaking her head as she left. She strode towards the other children who offered her their snacks willingly. You turned to Bucky, your hands full with a plate of cookies and a glass of milk, the bell on your hat jangled loudly as you approached him. He was currently helping a small boy untangle a ribbon from his hair. As if sensing your gaze, he looked up, catching your eye with a questioning tilt of his head as his eyes roamed over your attire.

“Don’t laugh,” you warned, pointing at him.

“Not laughing,” he replied, but his grin betrays him. “You’re adorable.”

“And you’re the most rugged Santa I’ve ever seen,” you teased back.

“Rugged Santa? I’ll take it, as long as you don’t expect me to wrestle a polar bear or something.”

Bucky’s smirk softened as his eyes dropped to the little boy cradled against his chest, his small hand clutching the edge of the red coat. “Well, looks like I’ve got my excuse,” he murmured, nodding toward the sleeping child. “Can’t wrestle a polar bear while I’m on babysitting duty.”

You smiled, stepping closer and lowering your voice to match his gentle tone. “That’s okay. You’re doing something way tougher.”

He tilted his head, raising an eyebrow in question.

“Being someone he feels safe enough to fall asleep on,” you said, you nodded your head towards the toddler in his lap.

Bucky’s expression faltered for just a second, the usual guardedness in his eyes giving way to something raw and soft.

“Guess I can handle that,” he said quietly, almost to himself.

You sat down on the large chair beside Bucky and held out the glass of milk. Bucky looked around and lowered his beard slightly so he could take a surreptitious sip from the glass. You smirked at the milk mustache that was left behind.

“You’re really good at this,” you say quietly, handing him a napkin.

He wiped his upper lip, looking down at the little boy in his arms, who was now fast asleep. “I didn’t think I would be,” he admitted. “But... they don’t look at me like I’m some kind of monster. They just see Santa.”

You placed a hand on his arm. “Because you’re not a monster, Buck. You’re a good man. And these kids? They see what I see.”

Bucky looked at you like he didn’t quite believe it but he desperately wanted to. The toddler in his arms stirred slightly and Bucky looked down, rocking back and forth gently until the boy settled again.

The evening ended with the group home staff gathering the children around the large tree to sing Christmas carols, with you and Bucky joining in, albeit reluctantly. One of the older kids, a boy of about ten, tugged on Bucky’s sleeve and asked, “Are you coming back next year, Santa?”

Bucky looked at you for a moment, then back at the boy. “You know what, kid? I just might.”

When it was finally time to leave, Bucky said goodbye to the kids, before speaking back to the janitor’s closet to take off his costume. He handed the red coat and beard back to the staff and you tugged on your coats and scarves. Things felt different as you stepped outside into the snowy evening, huddling together against the frosty weather.

Bucky looked down at your hand, his gloved fingers brushing briefly against yours between linking his fingers between yours. The two of you walked in silence for a while, Bucky’s face set in a contemplative frown. The loudest sound was your feet crunching in the snow. When you came to a street crossing, you both stopped, waiting for the signal to change.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” he said in a low tone.

You looked up at him, quizzically.

“Today.”

“You did something amazing today,” you said softly.

“Being there with those kids, seeing them look at me like that… they just saw me, not the person I was. It was... it was like I could actually do something good for once.”

“You’ve always done good things, Buck,” you responded, your voice filled with sincerity. “Even when you didn’t believe it yourself.”

Bucky sighed, his thumb absentmindedly tracing circles on the back of your hand. “I guess I’ve been waiting for some kind of sign,” he shrugged. “Something to say that I’m more than… him.”

“Buck, you gave those kids something they’ll remember for a long time, something special. That’s who you are. They saw you, the real you. The person I’ve always known.”

“Maybe I can be that guy. Someone who makes a difference.”

“You already are, Buck,” you wrapped your hand around his arm. “You’ve always been that guy.”

You kept walking, hand in hand. “Do you think we could… go back next year?” he asked sheepishly.

You smiled, warmth blossoming in your chest at his tentative tone. “I think they’d love that,” you replied softly. “I think they’d be pretty disappointed if Santa didn’t make an appearance again. They’ll be fighting for your attention.”

Bucky chuckled and for once the sound of joy seemed genuine, making your heart swell. “Seeing their faces today...” he trailed off, shaking his head. “It felt right, you know? Like… maybe I can be something good for someone.”

“You already are,” you reminded him, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “You’re good for me. And for those kids, you were their hero today.”

He glanced sideways at you, his blue eyes soft under the glow of the Christmas lights strung along the street. “You really think so?” he whispered.

“I know so,” you said firmly. “And if we go back next year, you can be their hero all over again.”

“You know,” he said, his voice quieter now, “in a way, I hope we don’t see all the same kids back at the home next year.”

You glanced up at him, surprised. “Oh?”

He nodded, his gaze distant as if he were picturing each of their faces. “Especially not Sophie,” he added after a moment, referring to the teenage girl. “She’s been through enough. She deserves more than a Santa suit and a few presents once a year.”

“She deserves a home,” you said gently, your heart aching at the thought. “A real home.”

Bucky nodded, his jaw tightening temporarily. “Yeah. A real family. People who’ll stick around, who’ll love her the way she deserves…” he paused and then sighed. “All of them do.”

“You really care about them, huh?” you smiled, your voice soft with admiration.

“How could I not?” he replied, his lips curving into a faint, bittersweet smile. “They remind me of... I don’t know… a feeling of being lost. Searching for something better.” He glanced down at you, his blue eyes shadowed but open. “If they can find it... well then, maybe there’s hope for me too.”

You stopped walking, pulling him gently to a halt so you could look at him fully. “There’s already hope for you, Bucky,” you said with quiet conviction.

He didn’t respond right away, just watched you, his expression unreadable but slowly softening at the edges. Then he nodded.

“Next year,” he said, his lips curving into a small smile. “But if Sophie’s not there, I’ll be okay with that.”

“So will I,” you agreed as you started walking again.

@lives-in-midgard @baw1066 @lomlbuckybarnes @woodinnn

[livwritesstuff]

‘tis my birthday today (it’s gotta be one of the worst birthdays to have, we don’t need to talk about it) anyways that’s where this is coming from

(also i’m not trying to imply that jan 1 is eddie’s bday. i wouldn’t wish that on anybody. besides, he is def a weirdo february aquarius)

The second half of the calendar year is nothing short of pandemonium for Eddie and Steve and their three daughters.

Moe’s birthday in late July kicks it off, almost immediately followed by Steve’s birthday in early August, then Hazel’s in September. Robbie’s birthday comes mere days after Halloween, and from there they dive headfirst into the bedlam of the holiday season.

Much to Eddie's relief, they all made it to yet another New Year's Day, and while the girls are definitely feeling the end-of-winter-break blues, Eddie welcomes the reprieve in festivities, brief as it may be.

His own birthday is up next – though not for another month.

He’s really not a birthday kind of guy. Never had been.

He loves making birthdays exciting for Steve and their daughters (they have a whole slew of traditions and everything – there’s names spelled out in pancakes involved; it's a very big deal), but his own…not so much.

It managed to fly under the radar for the past few years, but since this year is the big Five-Oh, he knows Steve won’t let him get away with that again.

Eddie has a complicated relationship with his birthday. When he was younger and the weight of Birthday Importance was at its peak, he never really celebrated the way other kids got to, and now, as an adult, he doesn’t know how to feel the things you’re supposed to feel about your birthday. 

Steve does a good job, despite Eddie’s weirdness. 

His favorite, Eddie thinks, was the year Moe was born, when Steve had managed to catch him off guard by renting a tiny cottage up in Maine for a few days.

“Moe or no Moe,” Steve had asked, “I’ve got Rob and Nance on standby.”

(They’d taken Moe. She saw snow for the first time. It was amazing, and people who don't want to involve their kids in stuff are a bunch of fucking weirdos).

Steve gives him a letter every year – handwritten on notebook paper and folded into whatever cheesy card he picks out.

Eddie keeps most of the letters in a fireproof lockbox along with all their passports and social security cards and birth certificates (look – Eddie doesn’t fuck around with priceless shit), but he keeps the most recent one – the one Steve gave him for his forty-ninth birthday nearly a year ago – in the top drawer of his bedside table.

He has it pretty much memorized at this point.

It says:

Ed! (with an exclamation point and everything – god, does Eddie love him)

49.

Holy shit we’re getting old.

Writing this is making me think about all the ones from the beginning, when I’d write about our future together even though we didn’t have a damn clue what we were working towards for a while.

I think we’re in it, man. Crazy, right?

(The ink color suddenly switches from blue to purple)

Sorry for the color change. Hazy decided she needed a blue pen immediately. Hope your vision hasn’t gone totally to shit and you can still read the purple.

Anyways, since I have you hostage reading this, I’m gonna take the opportunity to discuss you, because you don’t let me in real life most of the time.

You are gorgeous. Best looking face I’ve ever seen. I wonder how much time I’ve lost off my day just staring at you (actually, not a loss. I take that back)

You suck at puzzles – I know that sounds bad, but it’s great for me. I need that to rub off on Moe because she’s getting pretty good and that’s gonna be a problem for me.

You make me laugh so fucking hard every day. I’m praying the girls get your sense of “elevated” humor or whatever you like to call it

You’re so fucking smart, Eddie. I count myself lucky for it endlessly

You are completely 100% you all the time. I’m still working on that I think but I’m getting there because of you. I’m glad all that shit we went through didn’t take that away from you.

the BEST dad. Can’t believe I didn’t say that sooner. Not to brag but our kids are turning out pretty awesome (can’t go around saying that too much though it’ll go right to their heads and then any power we have left goes out the window)

You’re probably the best person I’ve ever known. Don’t think I’ll be forgetting what a catch you are any time soon, because I won't.

Thank you for loving me even all these years later. My life is better every day that I’m with you.

We’ll keep things quiet this year. Don’t get used to it though. Next year’s gonna be a rager.

Love you always!

- Steve :) ♡ ☆

[willowed-wisp]

HER KNIGHT, HIS HEART - part one

previous | next

Ser Harwin Strong x fem!OC/reader insert

WARNINGs: swearing, violence, suggestive themes. This will be an 18+ series.



It wasn’t easy, the pressure on her shoulders. Neither was being the eldest daughter to the King’s Hand.

Elspeth couldn’t marry for love, Otto would never allow it. Instead she had been prepared to make the highest match possible. Her father being the Hand of the King made that all too possible- brushing shoulders with royalty and noblemen. Unlike her younger sister- Elspeth didn’t hang on their father’s every word. She had a mind of her own and could muster her own life.

The nineteen year old could choose her friends, however. It just so happened that her best friend was found in the Princess of The Seven Kingdoms, Rhaenyra. It was fate. The pair were kindred in spirit, both quick to tempers raging hotter than dragon fyre.

Only the other understood that pent up rage. Caused from the years of pressure yet to pass. Elspeth was of age and Rhaenyra was at its cusp. Being born into the highest ranks of nobility meant marriage of convenience, a princess and daughter to the Hand weren’t above that duty.

And Elspeth knew that all too well.

“You have a duty to this family, Elspeth, you shall not be so selfish.” When she thought her father had redeeming qualities he would undermine her forgiveness. Always.

“I shan’t marry Jason Lannister! He is pompous, vile and twice my age!” Otto took a step forward, Elspeth a step back. His steely demeanour was too much for her to endure. Yet she stood mighty and true. He still stared down at her. “I’m not just something you can sell.”

“The only use you have to this House is to be wed,” she knew that. Every woman of high standing knew their only purpose l was to married and produce heirs. That didn’t mean Elspeth agreed with it. “The Gods are merciful, covering your antics in Oldtown.”

“I was only singing.” Dismissive, it wasn’t as greater deal as he made out.

“ Skirt up to your thighs, commoners around you… if your mother was alive…”

“My mother encouraged me to live! She would have been proud!”

“You looked like a common whore!” Her back to him- leaving Otto Hightower in his own company. Elspeth would not waste another breath. Elspeth Hightower never had and never would adhere to orders, least of all his.

This wasn’t Oldtown. And she wasn’t some ‘common whore’.

She needed to blow off some steam before self-implosion. How she wished she could ride a dragon; envious of Rhaenyra and Syrax. It hadn’t stopped her from learning the Valyrian tongue.

Elspeth required unbecoming relief.

Metal pummelled into straw, the Hightower punctuating her thoughts with a heaved swing.

‘Why do I have to marry?’

‘Why does he want rid of me?’

‘Why can’t I live my life by my own terms?’

That last one left the destructible mannequin ripped apart in a bedlam of hay on the ground.

She didn’t feel at all relieved. Dragon blood boiling, sometimes she felt like a Targaryen. “Who the fuck could tame me?” Spoken louder than intended- more of a shout. The woman didn’t mind, wearing trousers as a maiden was looked down upon. Especially in the eyes of her father.

Elspeth feared that these flames would one day consume herself. And she feared anybody caught in the crossfire. “Now, why in the Seven Kingdoms does Lady Hightower need taming?”

“She doesn’t.” The words spilled before she recognised the voice. Gruff and stubborn, yet she knew him to be gentle. Auburn hair tousled to meet a grinning face and silvery eyes. “Strong. You didn’t hear any of that.”

His lips thinned, “As you wish, my Lady,” The leather-wearing man stood a head taller- shadowing her. Elspeth used to be intimidated by the man from a young age. She had known him basically all of her life.

“You are lingering,” a slight bite, yet she assumed he was used to her. Or should have been. “Speak freely, I’d appreciate your counsel.” Sheathing her sword his gloved hand held the pommel.

His stance broad, “What do you wish to discuss?” She motioned for the pair to walk at each other’s side- yet he remained standing still. Regrettably unable to order him around- he bore the higher social standing. Elspeth resorted to his wishes.

“The King’s Hand is attempting to secure a betrothal in my name,” he chuckled at the maiden, “What is so amusing?” Her tone was laced in boredom as her eyes rolled.

Hulking shoulders shrugged, “You barely tolerate my presence and yet you ask me for counsel concerning your Lord father… what has gotten into you?” No trace of malice or discontent hidden in his words- she didn’t take him for a man of deep thought. Then again Elspeth hadn’t really gotten to know Harwin Strong.

“You are impartial and are quite fair, when you’re not breaking others’ bones in tourneys.” That made him smug- still grinning ear to ear. Why did he smile so wide? Wielding the sword, a large hand gloved her own- her skin ignited with a buzzing in her ears.

She instantly glared, he grinned, “Stop angering your father,” the stare less sinister on her part, “He doesn’t take kindly to you wielding a sword.” So he meant to disarm her, she didn’t think so.

“I’ll do as I please,”The woman snatched the sword, while the knight pulled both girl and sword toward himself. Arms clashing with cool fabric, brow inches away from his as was the contrasting smirk.

He forced it higher- Elspeth couldn’t have gotten closer if she tried. “You asked for counsel, my Lady.”

Fingers unlatched from the weapon- cheeks ablaze, “That doesn’t mean I have to adhere to it,” Elspeth held a distance- processing his words. “Shouldn’t you be at Harrenhal? Rather than playing knight?” That smile never faded from his face.

Taking a step closer, “I’ll have you know, I’m joining the City Watch in two namedays. You’ll be seeing a lot more of me, I’m afraid.”Her eyes rolled at his joviality. He was going to become a pain in her arse.

“Does that mean you’re competing in the tourney later?” Eyes of sparkling green beamed into his of steel.

A nod.

Elspeth curtsied- maybe she shouldn’t incur the wrath of Otto Hightower for the headache it caused. “I will see you there, Strong,” her back turned now to him.

“It’s Harwin…” She had known him for well over a decade, yet the habit didn’t die hard. He was a Lord after all and heir to Harrenhal and the Strong family, whereas she’d inherit the name of her betrothed- not that of her own.

Long, waved hair settled and her head turned, “Farewell, Ser Harwin.”

But he didn’t relent, “And you’ll be in the royal box?”

His eyes bright so she could see them from the distance covered, “What of it?” She was growing impatient.

“I just wanted to know where to receive your favour,” The smile diabolical- heat warmed her centre. She wasn’t naive, she’d been to taverns joined with pleasure houses. For the knight, Elspeth couldn’t harbour such feelings for him. It wasn’t destined for her. “Take care, my Lady.”

She turned for a final time, memorising Harwin Strong’s smirk, his eyes… memorising him.

“Where have you been? Father has been looking for you,” Elspeth wasn’t sure whether or not Alicent was truly a sweet little girl or a suck up to garner favour. Needless to say the youngest daughter was their father’s favourite- but at least Elspeth didn’t wear a mask.

She waved the news off, “When have I ever listened to our father’s orders?” Her younger sister silent, hands at her front- nails bloodied. Enough for Elspeth to grasp her palms for closer inspection, “What have I told you? This world is already cruel enough, don’t scorn yourself by your own hand.” Even if Alicent was petulant at times, Elspeth still loved her until the ground started shaking and the World ended altogether.

A sorrowful look from the younger, “Is this about mother?” A nod and she brought Alicent into her side - a crushing hug. Elspeth felt her kin tremble, she held the girl up. Tears shedding

Though, that was both of the sisters.

“I miss her, Elsie.”

“As do I,” a long inhale, “But we are strong, Alie. We are Hightowers, we light the way. I love you, more than Gwayne,” both found humour. Laughing with each other. “If I’m not mistaken, we have a princess to attend.”

The youthful face of Alicent Hightower lit up again, as tears were wiped by Elspeth’s emerald sleeve. “You’re just like mother,” the older’s heart shone at those words. She always had a likeness to their late Lady mother- comments enough to be memorable. But Elspeth never saw it, for her and Alicent their mother was the most beautiful woman in court. After she passed, Alicent thought the same of ‘her Elsie’.

She plainly smiled at Alicent. “What did father say he wanted?”

“He didn’t actually want anything, you just haven’t spoken to me since…” Even Elspeth would admit it, she was ignorant and rude. There were no excuses for her behaviour, though she hadn’t been the same since her mother’s death. Especially Otto. His leash on his eldest daughter had grown shorter in those following months.

Elspeth would light her own way.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 17 - Hospital AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 17, word count 995

CW- Cuts, Animal attack, Bite marks

Sirius stretched across the gurney, carefully holding his cup of coffee so he didn’t pour the scalding liquid down himself. 

“Hey, James. How long have we been on shift?” He asked his equally prostrate best friend. James groaned as he lifted his arm to check his watch. 

“8 hours.” He yawned. They were on the night shift, and the cases were either dull easy to diagnose stuff that could have waited for a GP in the morning or total calamities. 

He raised his head to take a sip of his drink when his pager went off. 

“Damn it,” He cursed as he dodged the liquid that came flying out of the cup. “That was close. I almost marred my beautiful face.” 

“Come on, urgent call to A&E,” James told him, grabbing him and jogging down the hall. 

The room was utter Bedlam. People were shouting at each other. A nurse was carrying a handful of bloody cloth to the hazardous waste bin. More nurses were fitting IVs and monitors to the patient lying still in the bed. Nurse Evans moved out of the way, and Sirius got his first glance at what they were working with. 

In the bed lay a twenty-something young man. Who could have been quite good-looking but now had long gashes across his face, one of which sliced his face in half from the corner of his eye, across his nose and finishing just above his lip. Sirius sucked in a breath as he took it in. 

“That’s not the worst of it.” Nurse Evans warned. Sirius glanced down as his eyes darted across the rest of his body. There were more slashing cuts, and the soft flesh of his waist and abdomen had huge puckered holes dotted about in stretched-out crescent arches. 

“Are those bite marks?!” James exclaimed, moving closer to the man. Nurse Evans nodded. 

“His back is all cut up, same as his front. Whatever attacked him got him good.” She sighed. “Poor man, he’s going to be in a lot of pain and shock when he wakes up.” She handed over his notes to James and busied herself cleaning the wounds. 

Sirius couldn’t take his eyes off the man.

“Do these look like dog bites?” He questioned as his fingers ghosted above the damaged skin.

“They look too big but definitely canine. Wolf, maybe?” James screwed up his face as he tried to figure it out. 

“There aren’t any wolves in Britain.” Sirius objected. “Where was he found?” 

“Er, notes say in the car park next to the—oh, for crying out loud. Next to the woodland park.” James scanned the text.

“Still no wild wolves in Britain,” Sirius muttered, only half paying attention to James. 

He grabbed some of the disinfection materials and helped Nurse Evans clean out the wounds. James began spouting off multiple tests he wanted to carry out and leaned over Sirius. Speaking quietly so only Sirius could hear him, he murmured.

“Be careful, yeah. I’ve seen that look before. Don’t get too invested.” Sirius shook his head. 

“I’m a doctor, James, I care. That’s all it is.” He lied. 

“Make sure it is,” James replied, knowing full well Sirius wasn’t telling the truth. 

Nurse Pettigrew appeared with his camera and began documenting the wounds in case it was a police matter. 

“Should I send these to a bite specialist?” He asked Sirius and James. James nodded. 

“Yes, that way, we will know what we’re dealing with. Send a couple of the slashes as well. I swear they look like claw marks.” Nurse Pettigrew disappeared as quickly as he’d appeared after taking countless photos and only disturbing the cleaning once to get shots of the man’s back. 

It took hours to get the man’s wounds cleaned and sutured. He’d had multiple scans, including a brain scan. To make sure he didn’t have a brain bleed. But he didn’t wake up. They weren’t worried yet. His body had sustained a lot of damage, and nothing in his scans showed any reason for him not to be conscious. 

Sirius’s shift had ended hours ago, but he stayed sitting at the man’s side. James had tried to convince him to leave. 

“Sirius, he’s a patient. You need to leave. Please don’t get overly attached to him. You don’t even know anything about him.”

“He’s all alone, James,” Sirius sighed. He already knew he was treading the line between a caring practitioner and becoming too personal with a patient. “No one has called looking for him. The police say no one matching his description has been reported missing. It’s been hours. How can no one be missing him?” James sighed at Sirius as he roughly ran his hand through his hair.

“I know, I know. Just be careful, Sirius.” He clapped his friend on the back and left him to it.

Sirius slept in the uncomfortable visitor’s chair. He kept waking up to check on his patient, but he was always asleep. Morning came, and one of the Nurses brought him breakfast and took the patient’s vitals. It wasn’t until the afternoon, a full 24 hours after he’d been brought in. The man’s eyelids fluttered. Sirius watched with bated breath as slowly, slowly, the man regained consciousness.

“It’s okay,” Sirius said in his most calming voice. “We think you’ve been attacked. You’ve got a lot of cuts, so I need you to keep still so you don’t rip any stitches. But you’re safe, and so far, no complications.” He realised he’d taken the man’s hand and promptly dropped it. “Sorry,” He mumbled under his breath. He watched the man wiggle his now free fingers. Sirius’s training finally kicked in. 

“I’m Doctor Black, Sirius. Do you know what your name is?” He asked as he pressed the call button. The man thought for a second. 

“Remus Lupin.” He said faintly. 

“Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Remus Lupin.” Sirius smiled at him as Nurse Evans wandered in.   

[twistedtummies2]

Top 15 Portrayals of Dr. Frankenstein

“What makes a monster, and what makes a man?” This quote from a Disney movie, of all things, weirdly sums up one of the central themes of Mary Shelley’s masterwork, “Frankenstein, or the Modern Prometheus.” In my previous countdown - where I discussed my favorite versions of the Frankenstein Monster - I said that Shelley’s novel is widely considered the first piece of sci-fi horror, not only because its title character is a scientist who attempts to use science to create life, but because the themes and ideas present in the novel are ones most common in science fiction, and especially “science horror,” to this day. In Shelley’s original novel, Victor Frankenstein is NOT a doctor. (Although I will be calling him “doctor” throughout this list, for various reasons. Deal with it.) Instead, he is a medical student studying to BE a doctor, who becomes so obsessed with the idea of not simply saving but CREATING life it drives him practically to madness. While Victor in the book is NOT the villain, you’d be hard-pressed to call him a hero, either…and that is the point. The book is filled with a lot of morally gray elements and ethical questionability, especially on the part of Frankenstein himself; while the Creature he constructs ultimately does turn out to do terrible things, it is largely because it has known nothing but scorn and neglect. This all begins when his “father” - after driving himself to bedlam creating the fellow in the first place - outright abandons him for, to be blunt, really petty reasons. Victor, in the novel, isn’t necessarily evil, but he IS extremely irresponsible and…well…frankly a bit of a drama queen. (I can relate, sadly.) His personal flaws and bad decisions lead to his own self-destruction, and the ruination of everything he holds dear. It is largely through him that a lot of the questions of the story we now associate with science horror come through: what happens when someone seeks knowledge too fervently? Do the means of gaining greater understanding of the world justify the ends? If we explore in certain directions, and don’t know when to hold back, will we find things out we really aren’t prepared to know? Are there, frankly, just some things man shouldn’t tamper with…and if we DO tamper with them, will we be capable of dealing with the consequences of our actions? That’s essentially the basic point of nearly every work of science fiction, especially of the darker variety: whether the “Monster” being faced comes in the form of advanced technology, extraterrestrial entities, unknowable cosmic forces, or biological scourges…it all seemingly begins with Frankenstein and his poorly-handled Monster. It’s for this reason you’ll sometimes find memes and posts that say, “Frankenstein IS the monster,” referring to Victor: the line between good and evil in the story is an extremely thin one, and while Victor never INTENDED to do any real harm, that does not excuse the harm that IS caused by his actions and inactions alike. Throughout different adaptations and reimaginings, Frankenstein has, as a result, been depicted in varying states of moral standing. Some versions take the flaws inherent in Shelley’s novel and go all the way with them, making the mad scientist into a villainous cad who will stop at nothing in his self-centered, arrogant attempts to basically play God. Other versions actually soften the character, giving him more redeeming qualities as he actually tries to do genuine good with his work, only for things to inevitably and unfortunately go awry all the same. Victor is neither of these in the novel, but both directions - and many more - can be fascinating in different ways. Keeping this in mind, it’s time to delve into the heart of darkness: these are My Top 15 Favorite Portrayals of Dr. Frankenstein!

15. Tim Curry, from Frankenstein: Through the Eyes of the Monster.

I’m going to presume most of you know about Tim Curry’s star-making performance as Dr. Frank-N-Furter in the musical “Rocky Horror Show,” and its film adaptation “Rocky Horror Picture Show.” This cult classic musical was effectively a parody of Frankenstein…but, just like with the previous countdown, I didn’t think it was fair to include it, since I feel it’s really a bit more of its own thing, even if the parallels are obvious. HOWEVER, that doesn’t discount the time Curry played the ACTUAL Dr. Frankenstein, in this point-and-click adventure game. “Through the Eyes of the Monster,” as the title implies, puts the player in the role of Frankenstein’s Creation, as you have to explore the mad scientist’s castle and escape to the outside world. Based on that premise, and the casting of Curry, the version of Frankenstein here is one of the more villainous ones, and it really is Curry’s performance that makes the game: I’ve never actually played this title (it’s EXTREMELY rare and hard to get ahold of, by all accounts), but I have watched a couple of walkthroughs/Let’s Plays of it, and…well, let’s just say they don’t say much to its quality. It’s typically considered a bad game. Curry’s wry, morbid, delightfully wicked and predictably over-the-top Frankenstein, however, is very, VERY fun to see in action. If he’d been in a better game, this entry would have been a lot higher.

14. Grant Moninger, from TMNT (2012).

In the 2012 version of “Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles,” there was a four-part story arc where the Turtles - alongside a time traveler named Renet - had to face the Universal Monsters, who were being led by a demon called Savanti Romero. In the third part of the story, Romero and his monster army traveled to Castle Frankenstein, where they manipulated Dr. Frankenstein with plans to use his Monster as part of their team. Both the doctor and his creation were voiced by Grant Moninger; a casting choice that does not appear to be mere coincidence. There was a lot of promise to this version of the scientist, but I don’t think it really reached full maximum: as much as I loved this story arc, the stuff with Frankenstein, in particular, seemed a bit rushed. This version actually makes the good doctor…well…a GOOD doctor, as he befriends the Turtles and actually comes to genuinely care for his Creation, despite his initial disgust. Unfortunately, we never really got any closure for the “Frankenstein Family,” and the shift from horror to acceptance seemed rather quick, as all of the doctor’s stuff was shoved into this one chapter of the four-part tale. I liked seeing a more sympathetic take on Frankenstein, and the interactions he had with Donatello and his Monster (nicknamed “Frank” by Mikey) were really nice, but I wish they’d just done more and given him more time.

13. Donald Duck, from Disney’s Frankenstein Starring Donald Duck.

I’m hoping a lot of you will remember, from my past Dracula-related lists, the time Disney made a graphic novel version of “Dracula,” starring Mickey Mouse as Jonathan Harker and the Phantom Blot as the Count. Well, in that comic adaptation, none of the characters from the Donald Duck universe appear. This is because they were all saved for another graphic novel that was made concurrently: Disney’s Frankenstein. (Also, no, I’m not counting Runaway Brain here, just as I didn’t count it on the previous list. Sorry.) Just like the “Dracula” comic, this book actually sticks pretty darn close to Shelley’s story and text (though it naturally softens up some of the nastier bits), and there’s a lot of little in-jokes throughout the story that you’ll really only understand if you’ve actually read the book. In this version, Donald plays the role of the mad scientist, except instead of stitching together a monster created from cadavers out of rifled graves (bravo if you got that reference, by the way), he makes his Creature out of cardboard. While this was a very fun and funny entry, I personally prefer the work on “Dracula” a bit more: I just think it’s funnier (as well as even weirder, to be honest), and the casting there is even more enjoyable. Still, this is definitely a charming companion piece.

12. Boris Karloff, from Mad Monster Party.

This Halloweentime film was a rare cinematic release by Rankin/Bass: the company best known for their holiday TV specials, such as “The Year Without a Santa Claus” and “Here Comes Peter Cottontail!” This is essentially a Rankin/Bass Halloween special, but expanded to feature length and released on the big screen. In it, Boris Karloff (whose animated puppet is a caricature of himself) plays the role of Dr. Frankenstein, rather than his Creation. It’s revealed that Frankenstein is actually the leader of an organization of famous horror icons, including Dracula, the Invisible Man, and his own Monster, just to name a few. However, the old doctor is getting on in years, and decides it’s time to step down and choose a successor in the form of his nephew: a wimpy, shrimpy clutz named Felix. The Monsters, appalled at this suggestion, plot to steal Frankenstein’s newest experiment - a special explosive - and assassinate Felix, so they can have the league to themselves. Then, without the good doctor to keep them all in check, they shall - what else? - take over the world. Karloff essentially plays a sort of exaggerated version of himself in this movie, which is, on its own, very fun to watch. His Dr. Frankenstein is a morbid and spooky soul, but he’s not really evil, unlike the Monsters he apparently controls. SPOILER ALERT: he even ends up sacrificing himself at the end of the film, to stop the villains from enacting their wicked schemes. The moment where he does so, for the record, is pure awesome: a word to the wise, DO NOT MESS WITH BORIS KARLOFF.

11. Robert Foxworth, from Dan Curtis’ Frankenstein.

Dan Curtis - famous for his work on the Gothic soap opera “Dark Shadows” - did a whole bunch of TV film and miniseries adaptations of famous works of classic horror, throughout the late 60s and early 70s. Among these were “Dracula,” “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde,” and, of course, “Frankenstein.” At the time, Curtis’ adaptation of the lattermost story was probably the most accurate that had been put to the screen, taking significantly fewer liberties with the source material of Mary Shelley than any other. Foxworth’s Victor Frankenstein, appropriately, sticks mostly true to the source as well, though the movie seems to paint him more as an idealistic scientific dreamer who gets in over his head than anything else. This carries over into one of the biggest changes to the film, the ending. SPOILER ALERT: instead of vowing to hunt down his creature to the ends of the Earth, a mortally wounded Frankenstein instead realizes his many mistakes, and apologizes to his “son,” telling him to learn to forgive both himself and others with his dying breath. Of course, we can’t give the Monster a happy ending, - we’ll have no joy and justice here, thank you - so the poor Creature, still in a state of mourning, ends up shot and killed anyway before he can put this into practice. Scientist and creation thus die in each other’s arms. Poetic in its own way, I suppose.

10. Barret Oliver & Charlie Tahan, from Frankenweenie.

A sentimental parody of the 1931 Universal classic, the original “Frankenweenie” was a live-action short subject, created by Tim Burton while he was working at Disney. The story featured Victor Frankenstein (played then by Barret Oliver) as a young boy living in contemporary America. The boy is heartbroken when his beloved pet dog, Sparky, sadly dies. Inspired by a science demonstration at his school, Victor decides to try and bring his petn back to life. The short subject was released in 1984. It was honestly a very sweet story, albeit obviously one with a dark sense of humor, but Disney was dissatisfied with the results, and claimed that Burton had wasted company resources on the project. This led to Burton being fired from the company, which only gave him the chance to strike out on his own. Burton had supposedly always wanted the story to become a feature-length film; many years later, he came to Disney with a proposition to try and remake the short as an animated movie. By now, of course, Burton was a household name, and Disney agreed to give the project the go-ahead, provided he also made a couple of other movies for them at their stipulation. Burton agreed, and in 2012, a stop-motion animated feature of “Frankenweenie” was released. This time, Victor was voiced by Gotham’s Scarecrow himself, Charlie Tahan. It followed the same basic beats as the short, but - by virtue of being longer, as well as animated and having the benefits of modern technology - it was able to go much further with its subject matter. Without going into too much detail, in the film version, Victor’s experiments get even more out of hand than anybody could have anticipated. Both versions are very fun and very cute, while also having a delightfully decadent style to them only Burton could bring. I highly recommend you check both out, and pick a favorite for yourself.

9. David Anders, from Once Upon a Time.

“Frankenstein” was a bizarre choice of story to reimagine in this Disney-based show of family, love, and fairy-tales. However, the series found a way to make things interesting, and while I don’t think the Frankenstein story elements are perfect, David Anders in the role of the obsessed scientist is definitely a winning interpretation. In the series, it’s revealed that Victor Frankenstein comes from a world called “The Land Without Color,” where everything is in monochrome (a reference to the classic Universal movies). His experiments with creating life take on a new dimension, when he decides to try and use his theories to bring back his brother, Gerhardt, blaming himself for his sibling’s demise. However, no ordinary heart can withstand the intense electric energy needed to give his brother life…which is where things start to get particularly unusual. Frankenstein gets roped into a deal involving Rumpelstiltskin, the Evil Queen, and the Mad Hatter (wow, what a trio of characters) to gain a special heart from their own world in the Enchanted Forest. Only the “magic” of that heart is able to function properly and serve Victor’s purpose. The series blends science and magic together in a fun way, seemingly taking on the old idea of Clarke’s Third Law: “any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” Anders’ portrayal of Dr. Frankenstein was extremely fun, giving the character a more sympathetic bend but also injecting a sort of eerie, icy, creepy composure to him. In the modern day scenes, Frankenstein goes by the alias of “Dr. Whale.” (Another reference to the Universal pictures, referring to James Whale, the director of the first two movies.) By both names, he was a recurring character throughout the series; I only wish we’d gotten more closure on how his experiments really went, or else he could have ranked much higher.

8. Kenneth Branagh, from Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein.

Released in 1994, this big-budget feature film was a direct response to the success of Francis Ford Coppola’s “Bram Stoker’s Dracula” released earlier in the same decade. While both films have a lot of similarities - generally staying true to the source, but also inventing a few new twists and really hyping up the sensuality of some characters (which I think works much better with Dracula than Frankenstein, for the record) - most agree that Coppola’s movie is the more successful one, and critics and box office records of the time seemed to agree. However, it does have its fair share of fans, and I suppose I’m among them. It’s not perfect, but to be blunt, neither is its “sister film.” Kenneth Branagh both directed the film and plays Victor Frankenstein - not uncommon with this Shakespearean-acclaimed performer. Branagh’s version of Victor has a raw, somewhat manic intensity in his passions, contrasted by the moments where he has to keep it all together and in-check for polite society. The most significant change to the plot is that, unlike in the novel - where Frankenstein never completes work on the Bride for his Monster - Victor actually goes through with the experiment, albeit for his own unique reasons. I won’t go into further detail for reasons of spoilers, but suffice to say, this version focused a great deal on Victor’s tragedy, while still making him the morally and ethically questionable obsessive of the novel. Never has the question of who is the real monster been more shrouded in gray area.

7. Benedict Cumberbatch & Jonny Lee Miller, from the National Theatre Production.

In 2011, a stage adaptation of Frankenstein was produced by the prestigious National Theatre in the UK. The play is a sort of semi-accurate retelling of the Shelley novel (it follows most of the major story beats, but cuts or slightly alters various elements), and has a lot of merits to it…but by far the most interesting part was the casting of Victor Frankenstein and his Creation. Throughout the run of the show, both roles were tackled by Benedict Cumberbatch and Jonny Lee Miller. (Both actors were popular for playing Sherlock Holmes at the time. Probably not a coincidence, though it’s an odd leap to make.) The two performers alternated parts over the course of the show’s time onstage, with Cumberbatch playing Frankenstein some nights, while Miller played the Creature, and then swapping roles the next round, over and over. Two nights of the show - each featuring different revolutions of the two leads - were filmed and shown on various screens around the world. As a stage actor, I can safely say no recording can PERFECTLY capture the beauty of any live theatre show, but at least it allowed folks who never got the chance to see it live a chance to take a peek for posterity. While both actors do an amazing job in both roles, I personally most enjoyed seeing Miller in the role of Frankenstein, with Cumberbatch in the role of the Monster. There was a brusqueness to the way he handled the part that Cumberbatch didn’t quite have; given how the stage version here ends, and what we learn about Victor (I’m not giving it away here), I feel that’s more appropriate to the character. Again, though, both performers are to be commended: if you get the chance, try to watch both versions and judge the performances for yourself.

6. Ian Holm, from “Mystery & Imagination: Frankenstein.”

In 1968, the UK-produced horror series, “Mystery & Imagination,” made their own adaptation of Mary Shelley’s classic novel. It’s actually one of the few episodes of this show I’ve seen, and of the few I’ve witnessed, it’s definitely my favorite. A big part of the reason why goes to the gimmick the episode used: casting both the Monster and the Doctor as the same person. That person, of course, was future Bilbo Baggins himself, Ian Holm. Before he ever ventured into the Shire, Holm had a long and storied career, playing everything from Richard III and other Shakespearean roles, to a couple of the most famous writers in history, such as J.M. Barrie and Lewis Carroll. It’s perhaps only natural that he would get to play not only Frankenstein’s creation, but Victor Frankenstein himself. Holm does a brilliant job in both parts, and it’s a worthy adaptation overall, mostly following Shelley but with a few unique twists. Holm would not be finished with Frankenstein once this production ended, either; he later played a supporting part in the 1994 film adaptation. I highly doubt this bit of casting was coincidental.

5. Alec Newman, from Frankenstein (2004 Miniseries).

Alec Newman is a name some fans of dark video games may recognize; among his body of work, he was the voice of Simon Belmont for the “Castlevania: Lords of Shadow” reboot trilogy, and also Jack the Ripper for “Assassin’s Creed: Syndicate.” It’s therefore somewhat unsurprising to learn that, before either of those came to be, Newman played one of Gothic horror’s most famous figures. This two-part miniseries is a highly underrated adaptation. It’s arguably the closest to the book ever made, at least that I’ve seen, as the longer running time and two-part structure allows for not only virtually everything in the novel to be given space, but allows for a few innovations and changes unique to this interpretation. Newman’s Victor Frankenstein, however, sticks more or less true to the source all the way through to the end, in terms of writing and general portrayal. If “definitive” can be taken to mean “truest to the original material,” then he is arguably the definitive version of Victor Frankenstein: starting off as an idealistic and romantic youth, whose passions become twisted as his naivete and rebellious obsessions ultimately lead to his downfall. His health declines, his fortunes decline, but perhaps most importantly, his very soul is effectively despoiled by his own negligence and imprudence. While he’s not the first person most people will think of when they think of the character, he’s definitely one of the most interesting portrayals to date.

4. Gene Wilder, from Young Frankenstein.

There have been several characters over the years who were not meant to be the actual Dr. Frankenstein himself, but rather his successors or descendants. Examples include Wolf von Frankenstein, the titular character of “Son of Frankenstein,” and Victoria Frankenstein, an upcoming female take on the mad scientist made for Universal’s “Dark Universe” attractions. (Look into that, by the way, seems like it could be interesting…unlike the last time Universal attempted a “Dark Universe” rebranding, but I digress.) However, I left such characters out of the running because…well…they’re not Victor Frankenstein. They’re his sons or daughters or general followers. I made an exception with Gene Wilder’s delightfully daffy Frederick Frankenstein, the title character of the Mel Brooks dark comedy classic “Young Frankenstein,” for one simple reason: it felt like a crime to leave him out of the running. This is mostly because, while the film does state that Frederick is the original Frankenstein’s grandson, the movie more or less follows, beat-for-beat, the familiar Frankenstein story: it takes the story beats we recognize from both the novel and the first two Universal movies and transforms the tragedy and horror into zany, satirical humor. The result is probably one of the greatest horror comedies in the history of movies, with Wilder’s Willy Wonka - I mean, Dr. Frankenstein at the very center of it all. He is HILARIOUS in this movie; I would argue quite possibly the funniest performance of his whole career, which is saying quite a lot. There was no way I could have forgiven myself if I didn’t include him in the Top 5.

3. Colin Clive, from the Universal Monsters Series.

While the iconography of the original Universal version of Frankenstein’s Monster (and the work of Boris Karloff in the role) cannot be denied, I often feel that Colin Clive’s work in the role of Dr. Frankenstein gets somewhat overlooked. In the first film, 1931’s “Frankenstein,” Clive is really the main character, and gives us a really strong intense performance that actually still really holds up to this day. The Universal Frankenstein is just as obsessive and ethically questionable as the one in the novel, but he’s a BIT less morally problematic. Unlike Victor Frankenstein in the book, HENRY Frankenstein (as the film strangely decides to rename him; the name of Victor is given to another character, for some reason) actually DOES try to care for his Creation and teach him. Henry even defends the Monster for a while, against his own skeptical mentor figure, Dr. Waldman. However, after the Monster commits his first bit of homicide - which was ENTIRELY justified as self-defense, I should add - Frankenstein is led to believe his experiment has been a failure, and feels he has no choice but to destroy his creation. I really, REALLY love Clive’s Frankenstein: he has lines and moments that are just as memorable and masterfully handled as any of Karloff’s pantomime in the first movie. It was also nice to see him return in the second film, “Bride of Frankenstein,” although his role in the sequel is strangely much smaller. You can tell they really wanted to focus on the Monster, realizing he was the moneymaking character; by the time the third film comes around, Frankenstein has died offscreen, and his adult son (played by Basil Rathbone) is in the process of…ahem…inheriting the family business, shall we say? As the man who made “IT’S ALIIIIIIIVE!” such a well-known bit of dialogue, Clive more than earns his place in my top three.

2. Peter Cushing, from the Hammer Horror Series.

While the ethics and moral standing of both Colin Clive’s Frankenstein in the Universal films, and Mary Shelley’s Victor in the original novel, are certainly up to discourse…there is no such debate with Peter Cushing’s take on the mad doctor. This is the second (and last) Frankenstein on this list, after Tim Curry’s version, who is just straight up EVIL. In fact, I may be wrong here, but I THINK this was the first time anyone depicted the character as an out-and-out villain before, at least in movies. Cushing’s Frankenstein is almost a Richard III sort of character, at least in his first outing of “Curse of Frankenstein.” We actually sympathize with him at the start of the movie, but as the film goes on, he becomes more and more of a dastardly scoundrel. By the end of the movie, even though his Creation certainly does their fair share of murder and mayhem, there is no doubt that Frankenstein himself is the REAL monster. And, like any great monster, Frankenstein seemed almost indestructible: in every single film, he would narrowly escape his own demise, and come back in another ready to try his experiments again. As the films go on, we see Frankenstein’s character change and shift, as he bobs in and out between a sort of sympathetic villainy and just being a cruel, callous, coldhearted cad. By the end of the series run, we realize there really is no hope for the mad doctor: he is lost in own obsession, unable to escape from it, even if he secretly sort of wants to. Never had the warnings of Shelley’s novel been so explicitly elaborated on, and - through good scripts and bad - Cushing carries the role with incredible power, dignity, and precision, his work just as meticulous as the character’s onscreen. While I personally will always think of him as Van Helsing from Hammer’s equally popular Dracula franchise, first and foremost, his Frankenstein is certainly nothing to scoff at, and is still widely considered one of the greatest.

1. Harry Treadaway, from Penny Dreadful.

On the previous list, I mentioned how Rory Kinnear’s take on the Creature (whom I shall henceforth refer to as “Caliban” for this description) was somehow one of the most faithful to Shelley’s version, despite the story of Penny Dreadful being obviously different from the original novel. I also mentioned that the Frankenstein characters of the series were probably my favorites of the whole show. (This is saying quite a lot, with icons like Dorian Gray, Count Dracula, and - most terrifying of all - Simon Russell Beale in the ranks.) Harry Treadaway’s Victor Frankenstein is not only no exception, he is the epitome: this was my favorite character in the show. Treadaway’s Frankenstein captures the spirit of Shelley’s original version, and mingles it with a number of new ideas and concepts, in a way that is absolutely spellbinding. This version of Frankenstein didn’t give up after his first “failed” experiment, and continues to look into creating life, for various reasons. The relationship between himself and Caliban is one of the most intriguingly twisted in the entire show (which, again, is saying quite a lot), as are his relationships with several other characters. Most notably, this one has Victor not only coming to grips with his own faults and actions, as he is lost in a cycle of poor-decision-making throughout the show, but also has him facing the idea that there are some things science just cannot explain or overcome. It was a great way of bringing the philosophies of a character and their story into a new medium, and it made Victor easily the most fascinating figure in a show filled with so many other interesting, dark, disturbed characters. I have no problems or hesitation whatsoever naming Penny Dreadful’s Dr. Frankenstein as my favorite take on the character. Case closed.

HONORABLE MENTIONS INCLUDE…

Samuel West, from Van Helsing.

As I’ve said in the past, I do have a soft spot for this very, VERY crazy “monster mash” movie. The opening sequence where we see Dr. Frankenstein’s deal with Dracula, and the creation of his Monster, is arguably one of the best parts, but West’s Frankenstein is killed before the 10 minute mark.

Dr. Henry Blackbrew, from V-Rising.

Just like with Adam the Firstborn, this game’s version of the Frankenstein Monster, “V Rising” created their own version of Dr. Frankenstein, and you’re even able to face him as a boss. Very fun, but I just didn’t think there was enough here to give him a slot.

Robert Powell, from Frankenstein (1984).

I mentioned this one on the previous list. This made-for-TV adaptation tries to follow Shelley’s novel in a truncated format, and has a very good cast. Powell does a decent job as the doctor, but the low-budget and untidy script don’t do his Frankenstein any favors.

Augustus Phillips, from Frankenstein (1910).

The very first film version of the mad scientist and his story…though, as I said on the past list, the film seems to misunderstand the entire crux of Shelley’s novel, reinterpreting Frankenstein’s quest for knowledge as more of a Faustian bit of black magic than actual science. Still, credit for kicking things off.

[junisjill]

I think it’s slightly concerning how fast an obsession can grow. Like a month ago if you had asked me ‘Hey, how’s the Watchmaker of Filigree Street?’ I would be like ‘Oh, that book? Yeah it’s pretty good so far.’ And slowly that has progressed into, if you asked me that now you would be sitting with me for four hours whilst I rant to you about pretty much everything to do with Watchmaker and Pepperharrow. Like I’m honestly surprised if my friends aren’t secretly sick of me talking about it. I think my blog is a pretty good reflection of this obsession too. But just you guys wait, just you guys wait until I’ve finished The Bedlam Stacks. Then I’ll have MORE to obsess over. And I’ll be UNSTOPPABLE.

[geekywritings]

Drunken revelations

And another anonymous request finished because I was inspired :D If you have promts, quotes or something for Cal x reader shorts, send them over :D

Request: “Cal Kestis x drunk reader??? Fluffy and comfort maybe he finds out about something from her past cause she’s drunk and doesn’t register she’s saying it?”

I think I might have gone a little dramatic here, but fluff is always included ;)

________You didn’t often consume alcohol. And it showed.

You were sitting in Pyloon‘s Saloon with Bode, waiting for Cal to return from a little security round he liked to make around the place before the end of the day. The last thing you needed was the Empire finding your safe haven. Or more Bedlam Raiders causing trouble. Sometimes, you would accompany the Jedi on his patrols, but this evening you had helped out Greeze in the kitchen before being invited to join your other companion.

Bode was nice and always had exciting stories to tell. This evening, however, he was pensive and in clear need of someone to lend him an ear. He had spoken a lot about Kata, his daughter, revealing how much he missed her and how he regretted not being able to spend more time with her. This fatherly side was what warmed you to the man, as not many were as engaged as him.

During his little monologue, he had kept ordering drinks for the two of you, and out of solidarity, you had downed one glass after another with him. At first, you hadn’t felt anything, but after the third round, your head started to grow fuzzy.

Cal returned after the fourth, his face betraying a mixture of surprise, amusement and a little worry. He had never seen you in such a state.

“Cal… You’re back.”, you spoke, noticing that the control over your voice was slipping. “Was it fun?”

“Fun?”, he asked with a chuckle. “No. But at least it’s quiet.” He took a seat next to you, ordering something for himself as he joined your conversation for a while. Eventually, Bode said his goodbyes, wanting to record another story for Kata.

“He is such a good dad.”, you said, as the two of you watched the dark-haired man disappear through the door. Cal was about to agree when you tacked on a remark that had him raise his brows instead. “I am jealous of Kata.”

You were staring into your half-empty glass now, a longing expression on your face.

Cal cocked his head toward you, trying to get you to look at him and explain. Although the two of you had been dating for a few weeks now, after a rather surprising confession on the battlefield when you thought you were about to die, he knew nothing about your past. For good reason.

But you couldn’t keep it hidden forever either… and the alcohol was clearly loosening your tongue.

“I wish my dad had cared that much.”, you spoke, your eyes finally meeting Cal’s. A hand on your shoulder invited you to continue.

“He was too busy with his career. He had big plans… My mother and I… we just had to wait. Day after day after day. For a visit. For a message even. Sometimes we heard nothing for weeks until suddenly we were called to attend some event with him. He paraded us around and then forgot we existed again for weeks.” You were bitter and it showed.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”, Cal spoke softly, trying to be encouraging without knowing what to say. He couldn’t relate. He didn’t even know his parents.

“He did get his wish… he got that promotion… that position he had lusted after. And it made me hate him even more.”, you took another sip, even though you clearly had more than enough already. Cal knew that too and subtly pulled the glass away from you once you had placed it back down.

“You should hate me…”

The sudden change of topic startled the Jedi and he found himself blinking in surprise before scooting closer. A finger under your chin brought your face back in line with his after you had turned away. “Do you know what you are saying, Y/N?”

“I do… You should hate me. For who I am. For who my father is.”

“You are drunk. I’m taking you to bed.”, Cal decided, sliding from the bar stool, ready to pick you up, but your following words had him stalling for a moment.

“Tarkin… My real name is Y/N Tarkin.”

Cal’s hands stopped inches from you, as he just stared. He knew that name. The man was part of the top command chain of the Empire after all. Responsible for endless suffering across the Galaxy. And you were supposed to be his daughter? How?

He had met you as part of the rebellion. You were fighting the Empire with as much ferocity as he was.

“That’s not who you are as a person, though.”, he started slowly, allowing his initial feelings to settle.

“How do you know?”

“Because I see you, Y/N. I see what you do to fight him. I see how much you care about the people. I see how much you love me, even though we should be enemies if you truly were his daughter through and through.”

How could he say these things so easily? How could he trust you so much?

Because he loved you, your muddied brain slurred.

“You know what Merrin taught me? Where you come from doesn’t have to define you. You choose your own path in life… and you have clearly chosen yours.”

Tears were brimming in your eyes and you tried to move in for an embrace… just to almost lose your balance on the bar stool and hug the floor instead. Cal’s arms caught you just in time.

“I think I’m drunk…”, you whispered and despite the heavy topic a few seconds ago, Cal couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“You very much are.”, he agreed. “Come, I’ll bring you to bed.”

“Your bed?”

“Ours.”And with that he hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your shoulders, picking you up with ease.

“I like that…”, you mumbled, head resting against his chest as he carried you downstairs to the room Greeze had prepared for him. The room he now shared with you.

“What do you mean?”

“This… All of this… You.”

He gave you a gentle smile, before leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Any other dark secrets you want to get off your chest?”, he asked, finally placing you down on the bed.

“Just one…”

Your eyes were feeling so heavy all of a sudden, the softness of the bed beckoning you to sleep.

“If I ever have kids… I want you to be their dad…” And with that revelation you drifted off, leaving Cal dumbfounded yet absolutely happy.

[hollowwrites]

Oh and keep an eye on the staircases…they like to change!

This is a super hetronormative idea that I had but I was thinking about how each of the bois would try to enter the girls dorms. Nothing inappropriate just wanting to see them or catch up with them after a long day.

Goes without saying MC belongs to the house each of the lads are in. I’m going with 7th year just because I might want to continue some of these and they might get spicy.

Garreth, Ominis, Sebastian and Amit

Garreth Word Count - 541

He’d just dragged himself back from yet another detention. You’d think, being the top scoring student in theoretical and practical potions, that he’d be exempt from the merciless scolding Professor Sharp gave him. But no. Yet another free afternoon wasted on scrubbing cauldrons.

He was just trying to cheer MC up. She’d looked miserable all day, in the nicest way possible, and the tiny little hint of a smirk on the corner of her lips was worth the detention he got for causing bedlam once again. She sniffled and moaned throughout the entire lesson until one errant sneeze caused her concoction to turn to a thick black tar. Useless. Garreth was only joking when he suggested harvesting witch bogeys from her for a brew. Sharp did not take it lightly and insisted MC go back to the dorms for the remainder of the day and Garreth serve a detention for such an inappropriate joke.

His aching body trudged its way towards the girls staircase.

I should check in on her, I’ve never see her that unwell

As his foot landed on the third step, the whole staircase transfigured into a slide leaving him in a pile of tangled limbs on the floor. Of course. How could he forget? No doubt his brain was completely fried from the menial tasks of his afternoon. Thank Merlin the common room was empty at this late hour.

He set his mind to just bolting up the steps as fast he could, to no avail. Eventually, he lost his temper. He wanted to see her. This wasn’t even to make sure she was okay anymore. He wanted to see her. He ran up as far as he could and as soon as the steps disintegrated beneath him, he leapt forward, clawing at the smooth surface for any purchase at all. After some effort he clambered onto the flat surface of the hallway.

HA

He found his way to the 7th years dorm and banged heavily on the door. He was knackered. His long day combined with the literal mountain he just had to climb, left him breathless, sweaty and aching more than he had before. He leant against the door frame with both hands letting his head lull down. Ahh. Finally some relaxation. Even if it was just the weight of his head.

So when MC opened the door, she was flanked by two lean arms and a mess of copper locks dangling in front of her.

“Garreth?” She asked, parting the locks of orange to reveal his flushed and freckled face.

“I just…climbed…staircase” he panted “want…see you…sad…now I’m…so tired”

“You want to see me sad because you’re tired?”

“NO” Garreth exclaimed rubbing his face and taking a few well needed breaths “You were sad earlier, ill, I think. I wanted to make sure you were okay. Then I climbed the staircase and it put me on my arse but I wanted to see you, it’s been a long day and I wanted…to…see you…”

“Garr did you defy Hogwarts architecture just to see me?” She asked smiling warmly. Oh that smile. He missed that smile. And it had only been a day.

“…you could say that…” he said rubbing the back of his neck, suddenly embarrassed.

~

Ominis Word Count - 519

Don’t let his mood tell you otherwise. Ominis was happy Sebastian and Anne were talking again…But did they have to arrange a visit on the day MC shared no classes with him? He’d spent the entire day, completely alone. Looking back, he couldn’t recall a time where he’d spoken to another person. From Sunrise to Sunset, he’d sulked around Hogwarts from class to class, devoid of any human interaction.

Well okay, he wasn’t missing it so much as actively avoiding it. He only wanted to speak to one person.

MC.

He decided enough was enough and he was going to see her. He strode towards the girls dorm becoming more and more aware of a violent hissing as he got closer. As the sole of his shoe touched the first step, the hissing got painfully loud. He retreated backwards slightly and the hisses quietened.

“Cease your chatter, I am just visiting a friend” Ominis reasoned to the Slytherin defenses. He took another step forward and the cacophony of hissing returned once more to his head.

“ENOUGH!” He shouted but noticed all too late that he didn’t speak English. The language of snakes fell easily from his lips with his ire. But it had worked. The snakes slithered away from him under his command.

His ability to talk to snakes being used in such a manner made Ominis feel uneasy. What purpose would Salazar Slytherin have to implement that into the design of the Slytherin Common Room? Specifically, a design placed there to keep the girls of the school safe.

Ominis found himself walking toward the 7th year dorms out of instinct. When his hand raised to knock upon MCs door, he shook himself from his trance.

This felt like a violation.

He decided it wasn’t worth it. As much as he wanted to see her, This felt wrong.

“MERLINS BEARD OMINIS! What are doing just stood in the hallway?” MC all but jumped out of her skin.

“I apologise, MC. I didn’t hear you open the door. I’ll leave you to your evening” he stated before turning to leave. He felt a slight tug on the sleeve of his robe.

“Wait…you didn’t hear me? That’s unlike you. Are you okay?” She linked with his arm determined to follow him wherever he went

“I just…I was coming to see you and you know the staircase doesn’t allow the boys here. Well I….accidentally spoke parceltongue and it allowed me access…why would that be? Can you imagine what people would do with this ability? My…brother can speak it…I can’t stop thinking what he could have done whilst he was here.”

“Stop your worrying, Ominis. You’ll turn grey.” She flicked a stray lock of hair out of his eyes, tucking it back with the others. “I trust you not to abuse this gift now you’ve learned some more of what it can do. I was coming to find you, actually when you scared the life out of me. Why don’t you come in and we can catch up? I’ve missed you today” she pulled his arm lightly towards her dorm.

“I’d like that”

~

Sebastian Word Count - 431

Well, it’s had been what? An hour? And still no sign of MC. Very unusual. She was usually, annoyingly punctual. Sebastian paced outside the library making laps of the ornate fountain at the centre of central hall. Whilst invisible, of course. The prefects would simply love to catch Sebastian parading around the castle out of hours, and especially so close to the library. He was certain Scribner had placed a bounty on his head.

Sod it.

He didn’t need to go into the restricted section this time. It had become a tradition of sorts for the pair to break in, take whatever they wanted and read it in the firelight of the Slytherin Common Room.

So where was she? Operating on the assumption she hadn’t forgotten, she was punctual after all, he assumed she’d fell asleep knowing they’d be up till late in the library. So then she was one of two places: napping on Ominis in the Common Room or in her room…again, napping.

Quickly jogging down the spiral staircase, he scanned the first part of the common room. No MC. He stuck he’s head through to the large room with the large stained glass windows…No MC.

One last place to check then.

He huffed towards the statue of Salazar Slytherin, casting Arresto Momentum on the staircase and ascending quickly. He was starting to get a little worried at her absense and he didn’t have time for silly defences that were redundant, at best. If he wanted to see her, he would see her. No stone staircase was going to stop that.

He knocked on the door.

Nothing

“MC?” He knocked once more pushing the door open a fraction “I’m coming in okay?”

Still nothing.

Okay, now he was panicking. He threw the door open with more force than was necessary and was greeted with a figure face down one of the four poster beds. He’d know that figure anywhere.

Merlin.

“MC!” He dragged her over by her shoulder revealing her drooling mouth and slack jaw. Her eyes heavily flutterering open

“Sebastian?” She slurred in her fatigued state.

“Oh thank Merlin! You looked like you were dead” he fell to his knees rubbing his eyes

“I brewed a batch of Sleeping Draught. Didn’t realise it knocked you out immediately”

“You’re going to be the death of me I swear”

“Why are you here?” She looked around as though she didn’t even know where ‘here’ was. “How are you here? I thought the girls dorms were enchanted?”

“They are” he shrugged “Nothing could keep me from you, you should know that”

~

Amit Word Count - 503

I can give her those notes tomorrow, it’s fine

Amit fumbled with the collection of papers he had collected over his last two Astrology lessons. MC had been called to do extra assignments for Potions, which unfortunately cut into her and Amits’ Astrology class together. He hadn’t seen her much this week because of it but he can wait one more day.

“Ah Amit” Everett bound into seating area of Ravenclaw Tower “Bet you’re looking forward to the Astrology test tomorrow”

“You mean next week, Everett” Amit said calmly

“No…Shah said at the end of last class she’d moved it to tomorrow. We’re you not listening?”

“Oh Merlin! No I was making notes for MC! I-I have to get these to her. Do you know where she is?” Amit stood immediately gathering up all notes he’d made and stuffing them into a notebook.

“Yes she’s in her room. It’s late where else would she be?”

“Damn it…” Amit looked defeated “She’s never going to forgive me”

“You know, for a Ravenclaw you can be incredibly stupid sometimes, Amit. Just go up there” Everett said casually

“It’s enchanted, how exactly do you expect me to do that?” Amits’ irritation just barely bled into his voice, Everett just shrugged.

“How hard could it be? I’m going to bed. See you later” He patted Amit on the shoulder before descending to the boys dorms.

He…could go to her. But it felt…wrong. How would she react to an unsolicited visit at this time of night? He would deserve a slap for being so bold but…the slap would be worth it if it meant she’d pass her test. Not that he doubted her at all. He’d slip the notes under her door and knock so she was very clear of his intentions.

Amit sighed.

Fine!!

He cast a basic levitation charm on his shoes. Amit was never one for flight, rarely using his broom for anything other than a means of travel so the odd floating he now experienced was…uncomfortable. Grasping for the hand rail he pull himself along the pathway of the stairs and towards the 7th year girls door.

Ah.

How was he supposed to post the notes under the doorway when he was now closer to the ceiling than the floor? His height continued to climb as he Accio’d himself to the door. He sheepishly knocked at the door as he held onto the door frame.

“Hello?” MC stuck her head through the door seeing no one.

“MC! Up here!” Amit called still floating, his feet up towards the rafters

“Amit? What on earth are you doing up there?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to intrude! I have your Astrology notes and there’s a test tomorrow. I didn’t want you to mad that I kept them from you”

“Oh Amit bless you” MC smiled up at him warmly. “Here take my hands and, I’m guessing that’s a levitation charm? Take your shoes off and come in. Perhaps we can study for the test”

~

[guessimabasicnerdgirlnow]

Alright, full post time! It will get long…

I can’t believe I was strong enough not to see the previews! It was worth it!

I thought he was going to die for real and then be brought back by 7.0 again. So, Dylan was not really trying to kill him even now

I’m sad he lost the tattoo. I think he should get a real one now, with ink and stuff

Also there is Anti-Venom!! I thought they were gone the moment Meridius got the Necrospear. Also Eddie lost his shorts, because as I said they weren’t real. Natural Eddie tm is back

I can’t believe Meridius, the most pretentious asshole around, made a fucking Star Wars reference as he makes his grand entrance in the final battle while Symby describes him as a fallen angel

Also, he has toes??

Toxin has a kid to watch already (Bren), I don’t blame him

I find it interesting that Bedlam was even considered in this scene

Also the deliberate wording. Bedlam is unresponsive, not dead. Because as Meridius revealed earlier, symbiotes don’t die. Smart.

But I can’t, the panel looks so funny. He really splat

Flash got temporarily a dose of… red zombiote? Black white and blood? Idk I will do something with this later

But really. What happened to Sleeper and being the strongest symbiote and blah blah blah? They’re not even an option of someone that could save them? Sure, they were hurt from the whole thing with Flexo but so was Toxin and he is fine now. Is it just because they are a cat? Would they get to be a part of the symbrock family and call Dylan their brother and to do something in the final fight if they were not a cat??

I love that it’s Symby narrating this all because the way they talk of Eddie 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Also Eddie fighting to the last of his strengths. He lost his powers, he has no symbiote with him, he was stabbed almost in the heart (and after being shot by Dylan+Flexo, he healed fine but he didn’t get a moment to breathe since even before that), he is probably still disoriented from everything, from being almost brainwashed by the Necrospear and from fighting himself. He’s having a terrible day, and he has no clothes, and he can barely stand. But he’s fighting. He’s protecting those he loves even if all he has are those bare hands

Eddie did some shit in this run. I was fully ready for it to be shoved under the carpet like some other shit he did historically ended up being, while wishing for some genuine apologies. What I got is him showing his love through actions, showing that the person he is right now isn’t anything like Bedlam or Meridius, which is much better

(And indeed, between him and those two there wasn’t just regular character development. It took a literal brainwashing for him to end up there)

Tbc

[novaonhere]

Silly Jedi

Relationship: Cal Kestis x f!reader

Summary: Both being raised in the Jedi Temple, you and Cal never understood the idea of “crushes” or being attracted to someone. As you’ve gotten older and now seem to have found each other after the terror of that day, Cal doesn’t know how to react.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Jedi Survivor spoilers/gameplay twister to fit the story

A/N: First post! Not my first time writing, it’s just been awhile. I hope you all enjoy! I’ll open up requests once I figure out how to do that. There is a bit of background, only to really set the scene.

Prompt: “I think I’m allergic to them.” “Why would you think that?” “Because every time I’m near them I can’t breathe and I get really sweaty and hot.”

(gif not mine)

————————————————————————

Dashing into the cantina, (Y/N) glides in between customers, with the occasional “excuse me, pardon me.” She hopes behind the counter, ignoring Greez’s glare on her back as she puts away her bag.

“What have I said about being late?” Greez crosses both sets of arms, tapping his foot. (Y/N) turns around, a grin on her face.

“Who else would you hire to take care of-“ She cuts off eyeing a Bedlam Raider, sipping a drink, eyeing you. “These wonderful customers!” You smile, heading towards the sink to wash your hands. Greez scoffs, exiting behind the bar to socialize with his customers.

You begin taking more orders, making drinks, and of course dissociating into your own little world in your head. Originally, you weren’t even supposed to be on Koboh. This was supposed to be a pit stop for you and your crew. You couldn’t help but feel a strong presence, a need, to stay. Maybe it was the fact you were tired of running, tired of having to flee, tired of putting those who had rescued you ten years ago at risk daily.

“Here you go, on the regular tab?” You ask a regular, who nods and thanks you. Smiling, you look over behind the counter to double check your bag was still there. You didn’t have much stuff in there anyway, just one major thing that would definitely cause an uproar to everyone in here. You begin to take more orders and craft drinks. You’ve been here for, what, a year? You mostly explored the planet, seeing what Koboh had to offer. It wasn’t until months ago you stopped here and Greez needed a set of hands. You liked him, and another sense of needing to stay here swept over you. Now, you bartend in the afternoon into the night, and stay up, exploring and watching the night sky. For what? You aren’t sure, you’re more on survival mode for now.

“Ah! Turgle, what can we get you?” Greez greats the alien. Turgle shakes his head, obvious sweat dripping down his face.

“I’m alright, just waiting for someone.” Turgle responds, waving to you. You wave back, continuing to make drinks. Suddenly, large footsteps echo outside, making their way towards the front door. Greez raise an eyebrow at Turgle, who only starts to shake. The door opens, revealing Rayvis, one of the Gen’Dai warriors on Koboh, along with some backup. Greez walks back behind the counter, grabbing your bag and handing it to you. Without making a face, you slip it on, and continue making drinks, keeping a close eye on the encounter ahead of you. Obviously Greez knows what’s up with you and your bag, you’re so attached to it.

“Ahhh, Turgle! I heard you have something for me.” Rayvis grins, his yellow teeth baring towards the much smaller alien. Turgle nods, pulling something out of his pocket. It’s quite thin, almost rectangular. You didn’t get a good enough look before Rayvis snatched it up. One of his back ups handed Turgle a small pouch, assuming of credits. Before anyone had time to process what was going on, Turgle ran out of the cantina.

Something weird flickered in your head, a strange, but familiar feeling. You haven’t been able to use this ability for quite some time, out of practice. But, it felt familiar, so familiar. Without must thought, you pulled this metal cylinder out of your bag and stuck it in your back pocket. Greez stared at you, wide eyed.

“NO!” Rayvis screamed, rushing outside, along with his backups. You jump over the counter, following. Greez stays inside, making sure no customers follow or in danger themselves.

You step outside, the sun baking onto your face. Holding up your hand over your eyes, you stay close to the door, behind the Bedlam Raiders. You can’t physically see what’s going on, but you listen to Rayvis scream and complain that it’s fake. Turgle whines and pleads. Then, a very familiar sound fills the space. Is that… a saber?

Down each backup goes, with each one down, more of the figure, presumably a Jedi, is shown. First, just their shoe, then, a freckled hand covered in scars. Then… red hair? You flick your lightsaber into action, stabbing the closest raider to you. He crumbles to the ground. Rayvis, shocked, turns around and sees you, with your (insert color) saber glowing and at the ready.

“Ah, two Jedi’s! Oh this will be fun. I will leave in peace now. Here, I don’t need this.” He tosses the object Turgle gave him towards the other Jedi. Your eyes follow, landing on a familiar face. Rayvis stalks away and you continue to stare, sheathing your weapon.

“Cal?” You call out, the man whips his head towards you, his eyes widening. A small BD droid hops off his shoulder walking over to you. You don’t pay too much attention, your eyes just staring at your old friend.

“(Y/N)?” He asks, taking a step closer. You smile, walking towards him as well. You meet, wrapping your arms around each other tightly. He rests his head on top of yours as you bury your head in his shoulder. He’s all grown up. He’s tall, has grown out his fair, has facial hair, and a pretty built frame. You remember him much shorter, with more of a boyish grin. Those elements are still there, but you’ve both grown so much.

“I thought you didn’t make it out.” He pulls back, his hands on your waist, holding you as if he was imagining you. You give a soft smile, staring back at his dumbfounded and exasperated expression.

“I didn’t think anyone made it out.” You respond, running your hand through his hair. “I like the hair.” His ears pinken, letting you go. The BD droid chippers, scanning your feet and slowly making his way up. “Oh, hello.” You smile. “Do you want to scan my light saber?” The droid chippers happily as you set down the saber on the ground.

“That’s BD-1, of BD for short.” Cal explains, smiling at his droid. He turns his attention to the object Rayvis tossed his way. You turn away from the droid and back to Cal.

“Turgle, the alien that you saved, gave this to Rayvis inside the cantina. Greez was a bit skeptical of what was happening.” At the mention of his name, Cal looked up, smiling. “Do you know him? Let’s go inside.” You grab the saber as BD crawls back onto Cal’s back. You lead the way, feeling Cal’s stare burning onto your back.

God, how long has it been? Years easily. You both were best friends at the Temple in your youth. Inseparable. Whenever you went, he went. Wherever he went, you went. You just clicked, talking about everything and anything.

Cal sighs, adjusting his collar, clearing his throat as well.

“Hot? There’s cool air inside, go ahead.” You open the door, motioning for Cal to enter. He nods, thanking you. You notice as he walks past, sweat is dripping down the sides of his face, his ears still pink.

“CAL?” Greez shouts, running from behind the counter. They have their moment, greeting each other and catching up. You sit off to the side, not wanting to disrupt. You watch the pair talk, your eyes and mind wandering.

Cal had really grown up to an attractive young man. The red stubble really brought out his light eyes, which always reminded you of the bright stars in the sky. He had rolled up his sleeves, showing his toned arms, along with freckles and as many scars. Who knows what he’s been up to, but obviously giving someone hell. A large scar went across his face, very faded by this point. You couldn’t help but have the faintest smile.

“(Y/N)?” Greez asks, pulling your attention away. “Could you please get my friend here some water?” You nod and walk towards the back to grab a canned water. Tap wasn’t the best here.

—-

“Greez, I haven’t seen her for so long. But just like when I was at the Temple, I started getting these weird feelings. I think I’m allergic to them.” Cal whispers, watching (Y/N) go into a back room.

She’s really grown up. Her face has aged a bit, but still has that youthful smile. Oh those eyes, they could light up any room. Still as confident as ever, she was ready to join in on the fight without batting an eye. Cal couldn’t stop smiling when he laid eyes on her.

Greez rolls his eyes “You can’t be allergic to people, at least I don’t think so. Why would you think that?” Cal stands up straight, wiping his hands on his pants.

“Because every time I’m near her I can’t breathe and I get really sweaty and hot. I mean, the cooler air in here is not helping at all.” He wipes his face with the collar of his shirt, showing Greez the sweat soaked parts. Greez chuckles, grabbing a towel behind the counter and throwing it Cal’s way.

“Get ahold of yourself,” He laughs at Cal dries his face again. “Probably just your puppy love mode acting up.” Cal’s ears pinken even more, spreading to his cheeks.

You walk back in with a bottle of water, noticing Cal’s bright red face.

“Hey, didn’t realize the Koboh heat was hitting you that hard. Here,” You hand him the water. “Let me grab you a cold towel.” BD chirps, as Cal taps him on the top of the head a bit roughly. His entire face is now red. Greez laughs, leading Cal to the back.

“Silly Jedi,” Greez smiles as they walk past (Y/N), who hands the beet red Cal a cold towel. Cal kicks playfully at Greez’s ankle and thanks you for your kindness.

[grntaire]

Yoooo I really love the choral music you’ve recently shared. I’m not really that familiar with it as a genre of music and don’t normally seek it out? but occasionally a piece will find its way to me (like at a funeral or now your blog), and I find it arrestingly beautiful. maybe partly because it’s a strange and unfamiliar medium to me. Do you have any favorites you would recommend for further exploration? 🩷

hi this is maybe the most hyped i've been for an ask ever bc i go fucking crazy for choral music so YES i do have recs for you. i will try to limit my little thoughts however i am very annoying so it will not go well

gibbons' hosanna to the son of david goes insanely hard. so jovial and fun and i had a blast singing this in undergrad! i love renaissance polyphony and this is a prime example of it!

poulenc's o magnum mysterium is truthfully wacky in the best most french way ever. and imo poulenc's queerness is so clear and present in his music so anything by him i love. my beautiful fruity catholic with a disorder <3

chesnokov's spaseniye sodelal is russian orthodox perfection fr. when my choir in undergrad read thru this i was stood between two low basses and at THAT part (1:32) i felt like i was being punched from the inside out. also the text means "salvation is created in the midst of the earth" and i think that's like. so fucking sick

stacey gibbs' arrangement of ezekiel is THE american spiritual arrangement to me. i once sang this in an italian church under a mexican conductor and then later we all sang it drunkenly for the owner at the hotel we were all staying at it was wild and so so so fun. such a beautiful and massive example of a joyful american spiritual also it's straight up a banger honestly. could talk ad nauseum abt how badass black choral scholars are and how grateful i am for all of the work that they've done and for inviting ppl to learn abt and experience it <3

holst's i love my love is one of my favs of all time. unfortunately england fucking devours when it comes to their choral tradition and this piece does one of my fav things where the way the composer sets the text changes its meaning! it's abt a woman named nancy who is in bedlam bc her love died at sea and it effectively broke her. while there, he comes to her, alive, breaks her out and they get married. while the poem itself shows a happy ending, the way holst plays w tempo and texture makes me go hmmm. 90% sure he did not show up and she's experiencing a delusion of sorts to cope w her grief (the i love my love's in the sopranos & altos at 1:24 kind of emulate a rocking motif, almost as if she's rocking herself back and forth in a soothing gesture, or the rocking of the ship he died on) and that tenor entrance in the melody after almost emulates her love coming to rescue her. god this whole piece makes me feel like my skin is on fire and i think it's a devastating portrayal of mental illness and you can rip it from my cold dead hands

stanford's beati quorum via is literally just gorgeous front to back. again unfortunately the english stay slaying

jake runestad's a silence haunts me literally does fucking haunt me and it changed the way i think about choral music. it's a setting of an unsent letter of beethoven's where he talks about losing his hearing and how afraid he is of losing it. this one you def have to watch bc there's a visual element to it! no spoilers but holy shit it shuts my brain down it's brutal and beautiful. i saw its premiere in 2019 and the entire hall was sobbing. like i have the words "be well" tattooed on me bc of it. the way the piano quotes moonlight sonata and his 9th symphony and the tensions emulating his tinnitus. OUGH

[xxrainshadowsxx]

New Elite Chapter 10

You’re met with stares and poorly disguised whispers the second you walk through the doors. Your courage almost flees here, but Mr. Onceler moves his free hand to cover yours, which still rests in his elbow. You fight the urge to hide your left hand, which is freely swinging at your side, and the ring on your finger seems to shimmer like the brightest beacon, drawing all eyes to it.

You do your best to mimic your fiancé and wear a mask of cool indifference. However, you can’t stop yourself from scanning the room, looking for your mother, but so far you see no hint of her.

You do, however, see Mr. and Mrs. Hunte, though not Thomas as of yet. Mrs. Hunte’s eyes are a pair that follow you unabashedly. Though you’d always gotten along well with them before, now she quite literally looks down her nose at you, as if you were nothing more than dirt on the floor.

You force yourself to look away. You were not becoming her daughter-in-law, you did not have to rely on her family’s fortune. You were marrying a man wealthier than they, and her opinion of you no longer mattered. In a way, it never had in the first place.

But even when you choose not to look, you can’t turn off your ears, though you desperately wish you could. The whispers strike you from all sides, as hot as if irons straight out of the fire were being held against your skin.

“Look at them! I hear they’re engaged now–”

“She turned down young Mr. Hunte–”

“I heard she kept it secret from her own mother! Never expected this kind of scandal from her–”

Finally, he guides you into the chapel proper. Here, at least, people have the decency to pause their gossiping, though the shameless stares continue. You do another quick scan of the room, but don’t hold out any hope that your mother will be here; sure enough, you don’t see her in any of the few pews that are occupied.

Mr. Onceler leads you toward the middle row of pews and slides in, looking wholly unbothered, though it does seem as though the seats are a little small for him, as his knees are almost against the pew in front of you. Despite your discomfort at the atmosphere, you have to suppress an insane urge to laugh, which would be a very bad idea. In your unease, a laugh would probably sound more akin to a shriek.

After a minute, Mrs. Ryan sits down on the other side of him, looking a bit disgruntled. “I swear I’ve never been more popular with these shrews,” she mutters. “Everyone wants me to say something. Don’t worry, I’m shutting them up,” she reassures, likely seeing your alarmed expression. “All I’m saying is that, yes, you’re engaged. Nothing more.”

“Did you even have to say that much? Ignoring everyone is better,” Mr. Onceler grumbles before he’s forced to stay quiet due to the soft chime of the bells, signaling the beginning of the service.

It’s a service that you hardly remember a single minute of. Though no one can talk about you, there’s nothing that can stop the stares of silent judgment. Even though you were expecting it, it doesn’t make bearing the burden any easier. You’ve never experienced scrutiny like this before. You’re not sure how to handle it.

The second the minister releases the congregation, you nearly run into Mr. Onceler in your haste to leave. Luckily, he seems to understand your need to get out of public. He takes your hand into his arm again and leads you out into the narthex, not even bothering to wait for Mrs. Ryan, who is being hounded once more by the various gossips who are clamoring for news.

“Darling!” You’re almost at the door when the familiar call draws your attention. Alice is pushing through the crowd, decorum clearly not a care in her mind. Your shoulders deflate in relief; here was someone who, at the very least, would be an ally to you.

“Oh Alice dear, you don’t know how lovely it is to see you,” you sigh, releasing Mr. Onceler’s arm to give her a brief hug. “It’s been bedlam… though I’m sure you’ve heard everything with the rumor mill at full speed.” You allow a small hint of bitterness to creep into your tone, and Mr. Onceler pulls you back into the safety of his arm. It should feel possessive, but it doesn’t. You feel comforted by his touch, however it comes.

“The rumors are crazy,” Alice says with a shake of her head. “I can’t believe half of them. For instance, there’s one saying that you were courting both Thomas Hunte and Mr. Onceler at the same time. Or that it’s not just an engagement, but that you eloped yesterday. Or–”

“Alice, please,” you cut her off with a wince. “I really don’t need to know what people are saying about me. In fact, I never want to hear any of these rumors, even if we laugh about this in fifty years’ time. It’s been hard enough. I don’t want to waste my energy correcting unfounded rumors, alright? I want to lay low until this is forgotten.”

“Oh, all right,” she huffs. Alice tended to love hearing false rumors about herself, and didn’t always remember that others had different preferences. “But you must tell me, at least, what actually occurred.”

“Yes, I will, but not here. There’s too many people here,” you insist. Alice nods, then loops her arm through your free one, and you head out into the street just as Mrs. Ryan catches up with you.

Alice manages to wait a few blocks down the road before she can’t contain herself any longer. “So, what exactly did happen?” she presses. “And why is your mother not with you? I’d heard you’d been disinherited, but I know better than to believe that–”

“That one’s true, Alice,” you confirm softly, unable to meet her gaze when you say it. Alice’s hands fly to her mouth in shock. You quickly start speaking again before she spouts off at the mouth. “We got engaged yesterday. When we returned home to tell my mother, Thomas Hunte was with her, asking for permission to court me. I dismissed him in what I hope was as polite as I could make the situation, then explained to my mother my circumstances. She told me that as long as I am engaged to my fiancé, I am no longer welcome in her home.” You relay the story without any emotion. You’ve had to completely dissociate yourself from the event, pretend it happened to someone else, or you would break down again.

For once in all the time you’ve known her, Alice is speechless. “Oh, my Lord,” she whispers. She stares down at the ground for a long time before she finally says something. “I do not know what kind of wisdom or comfort I could offer,” she murmurs. “I do not have the faintest clue on how I could help the situation. I shall only give you what I can, little as that may be.” She draws herself up to her full height before addressing not only you, but Mr. Onceler as well. “Since no one has said it, let me be the first to congratulate you–both of you–on your engagement. My wish for you is that your marriage is a happy, prosperous one.”

Her words touch you more than you expect. Just to have someone who was genuinely happy for you was such a welcome presence. This was supposed to be the happiest time of your life so far, getting engaged and preparing for your wedding. Your circumstances hadn’t allowed you to feel that way, but Alice was perfectly willing to hold on to any joy until you were ready to receive it yourself. 

“Thank you, Alice. Truly,” you say. “And as much as I would love for you to stay, won’t your parents get worried since you’ve gone off by yourself?”

“Probably,” she shrugs. “They’re more than likely used to it at this point though; I did it often enough in England.” She giggles suddenly. “Oh, I have to tell you about that. When we went to King Edward’s court, well, you know my father. He has all these hopes for me, and I daresay I’ve been a disappointment in every way. He wanted me to socialize, of course, but there was this Count…” She breaks off here as she glances up at Mr. Onceler. He hasn’t said anything, but his ears are very red. “Well, I’ll spare you the details for now. But a forbidden summer romance, well, it’s every bit as good as the books make it out to be.” She sighs dreamily. “So enjoy this while it’s still considered somewhat forbidden! It makes it so much more exciting.”

Now you were just as embarrassed as your fiancé. Alice had always been a bit salacious, and you weren’t surprised at all to hear of a brief, passionate romance she’d engaged in, but you did not need her to advise you to do the same with Mr. Onceler. You still couldn’t be sure if there was any real affection on his part. It certainly didn’t seem like it.

“I really must be going,” Alice says, drawing your attention back to her. She gives you one last gentle squeeze. “I simply cannot wait for your wedding! It’ll be beautiful,” she declares confidently before waltzing away.

You’re not quite sure how you should address her behavior once she’s out of earshot (you weren’t sure if you should even address it at all), but Mr. Onceler speaks first. “I honestly cannot believe there was ever a moment you seriously thought I was going to abandon my pursuit of you for her. I can’t even stand five minutes listening to her, let alone be able to live with that. I don’t know how you have the patience for it.”

“Oh, she’s not that bad once you get to know her,” you defend her quietly. “And she really is harmless. She just doesn’t have much of a filter. If a thought enters her brain, it’s going to come out of her mouth.”

“I didn’t mean to imply that she’s a bad person,” he corrects himself. “She and I are just completely incompatible and I don’t know why you ever thought I’d leave you for her.”

You narrow your eyes slightly. You can’t tell if he’s trying to express affection for you, or if he was just annoyed by Alice’s extroverted energy. These cryptic hints he kept giving you were quite frustrating, but you didn’t feel bold enough to ask him about it outright yet. Besides, queries about his feelings might bring him to question yours, and you still couldn’t answer that. Best to hold off your inquiries until you had a more level head.

You reach Mrs. Ryan’s house quickly after that, and Mr. Onceler surprises you once again by sitting with your hostess at her dining table and immediately starts discussing plans for your wedding. You shift guiltily as you overhear them.

You knew the traditions, of course. You were perfectly aware that in America, the bride’s family was supposed to front the bill. It was something your mother had always agonized over, but had insisted you’d make it work somehow.

It’s because of this that you feel compelled to speak. You clear your throat to get their attention. “We don’t need to make this an extravagant affair,” you say softly. “I know you probably weren’t expecting to pay for this, sir, and I think we can safely say I’ve been far more trouble than I’m worth. I know society expects a large wedding, but please don’t feel obligated to do so if you don’t wish to.”

Mrs. Ryan looks on you with pity, understanding, and gentleness all wrapped up in one expression. Mr. Onceler, on the other hand, leans back in his chair with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples. “Can you give us a moment?” he asks Mrs. Ryan. The older woman nods once, then leaves the room with surprising speed, leaving you alone with your fiancé.

He gestures to one of the empty chairs next to him. You sit, a bit perplexed and more than a little bit nervous. Though it was very, very rare that an engagement was broken, you were terrified of accidentally angering him to that point, for then you truly would be left utterly desolate.

He hesitates for just a fraction of a second before he reaches for your hand. “Do I frighten you, darling?” he asks. Your fear must be showing on your face. But more than the fact that he’d been able to read your emotions (yet again), you were far more struck by him calling you ‘darling.’ But thought it caught you off guard, it would have to be addressed later. Answering his questions was the first matter at hand, so you push everything else out of your already cluttered mind.

“I’m not frightened of you,” you whisper. “As strange as it is, you’ve become a trusted comfort to me. I’m only scared of the power you hold, and what would happen if you changed your mind.”

He huffs impatiently once. “Have I not proven by now that I will not abandon you?” he asks in a low tone, his thumb running over the ring he put on your finger. “When I make a promise, I keep it. I don’t care if your family will not be paying for our wedding; I knew that even before I asked to court you. The only way now that we wouldn’t be married is if you decide to end it, because I assure you that I will not.” You had been looking down at the table, so it catches you off guard when he puts his hand underneath your chin and tilts your head up to look in his eyes. It shouldn’t faze you anymore, but the shade of bright blue combined with the intensity of his gaze still give you goosebumps. He holds you firm, not even blinking. “Look at me,” he says, his voice matching the fire in his eyes. “I will not leave you. I swear it. And don’t think of yourself as a burden, because I do not. Do you believe me now?”

Staring into those eyes, how could you not believe him? You nod your head once and he releases your chin as well as your hands. Your immediate instinct is to protest before you stop yourself. You were being stupid, craving his touch like that. He always said he didn’t fancy you in any way.

But if his feelings had changed… could yours do the same? You had to find out.

“Wait,” you call before you lose your sudden rush of boldness. He had been about to stand up, but sits back down at your voice, looking at you quizzically. You hurry to ask your question. “Our circumstances surrounding our engagement, how it is just a matter of convenience… has that changed in your mind at all?” You wish you didn’t hope he’d say yes. You’re not even sure you wanted his affection.

He takes a very long time to answer. You wish you could get a clue of what he might say, but his face is completely unreadable; you wouldn’t even feel confident in a guess. The longer he drags this out, the louder you can hear your own heart beating. 

Finally, he starts to speak. “No. Nothing’s changed,” he says, his expression staying the same. And you have no reason to believe he’d lie. Your shoulder sag, and you do your best to try and master your facial expression into one of neutrality. The last thing you want is for him to learn of your disappointment.

Unfortunately, it seems as though your efforts were in vain, for he opens his mouth again. “Have yours?” he asks gently. You’d almost describe his tone as pitying, which you hate. The last thing you need is anyone’s pity, least of all his.

Still, his question makes you falter. You couldn’t say you felt absolutely nothing towards him, as you did when you agreed to this. But as to what feelings you actually had now, you had no clue what they were. Sometimes he infuriated you to no end, and others… well, other moments made you feel as though maybe you did like him, even if no real love had blossomed yet.

But you didn’t want to try and explain all of this to him. An overly-detailed explanation would likely just annoy him. Though you believed him when he said he wouldn’t leave you, you didn’t want an unhappy marriage because you too often frayed his nerves. So even though he was honest with you, you couldn’t do the same.

“No,” you say quickly. You look directly in his eyes, lest he should think you’re being dishonest. You have a silent face-off with him for a few moments before you deem it’s safe enough to break it off.

“I suppose I’ll let you get on with your plans. You clearly don’t need me here for that,” you say as you stand up. You walk towards your borrowed room, and though you feel his eyes on you the entire time, he doesn’t call you back.

You wait until the door closes before you collapse on the bed. As much as part of you did indeed crave his presence, dealing with that man was exhausting. Even though it was still very early in the day, you need a nap. You could figure out what to do with him and your confused feelings later, when hopefully your mind was less chaotic.

****

Over the next few days, things progressed very much the same way. Mr. Onceler wasn’t there everyday, but most days you saw him for at least a few minutes. You remained cordially polite to each other, and there was no hint of the passion you’d heard most newly engaged couples had. You were beginning to think that sort of passionate love was only found in the novels you now had ample time to read, since you spent most of your time in the room, trying to stay out of Mrs. Ryan’s way.

You knew wedding plans were progressing, but it was a surprise to even yourself how little interest you took in the subject. Mrs. Ryan often asked for your opinion on how you would like things, but the truth was you didn’t care much. You’d never been the type of girl to waste away hours planning every minute detail of her wedding. In fact, for most of your life, you’d been expecting your mother to hold the reins wherever you got engaged, and you would have been more than happy to let her do so.

But today, you knew that you would at least have to make an appearance. The seamstress who would be making your wedding dress was coming to take your measurements, and she couldn’t very well do that if you were locked away.

You hear the doorbell sound mid-morning, and while you debate on staying put until someone comes to fetch you, you decide it’s probably better to do the polite thing and meet the woman in the foyer.

You open your door and head to the entrance hall, then stop in your tracks, mouth falling open of its own accord. There was no seamstress there at all. Instead, none other than Nellie stood on the rug, beaming at you.

“Nellie!” you shriek, abandoning all propriety and running to her, throwing your arms around her. Tears are leaking from your eyes, but for once, they’re from joy. This had been the last thing you’d been expecting. “What–why—how are you here?” you ask breathlessly, releasing her from your hug, but keeping on her arm, as though she would disappear if you had no tangible proof that she was really standing before you.

“Mr. Onceler’s hiring me,” she explained in a rushed voice. “He wrote to me a couple of days after your engagement, said you missed me, and if I was agreeable, he had a plan to help me resign from your mother and that he would hire me on instead. I wrote back with a yes right away. It took a little while to sort the details out, but I’m here now.” She gestures behind her as she’s speaking, and when you look past the still open front door, your fiancé is unloading bags that you recognize as Nellie’s from a buggy.

Her revelation leaves you speechless. You couldn’t believe he would do that for you. He absolutely did not need to do it–in fact, it would have been very easy for his plan to have gone wrong. And yet, it seemed as though he barely thought twice about doing it, if Nellie’s timeline was accurate. You didn’t know how you could ever thank him enough.

“M-my mother?” you hear yourself ask. Wondering if she’d still be taken care of without Nellie was the only thing you could latch onto right now. It wasn’t as complicated as everything else going on.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry,” Nellie assures quietly. “I recommended someone I used to know for her to hire, which she has done. She’ll be well comfortable, I promise.” She takes your hands in hers. “Enough about that though. How are you holding up?”

“I’m doing alright,” you murmur, still in a bit of shock. “It’s been difficult, I cannot lie, but I’m getting better day by day.” You couldn’t focus on yourself for too long though. Her arrival sent question after question shooting through your mind. “Let’s go to my room, so we can speak properly,” you suggest. You loop your arm through hers and lead her down the hall.

Once you’re in the room, both of you take seats on the bed. “So… how exactly did this happen? I can’t imagine my mother was happy when you told her you were seeking employment somewhere else, especially not here. You did not tell her where you were going, did you?”

“No, she has no idea,” Nellie says. “I thought it might not be wise to tell her. She doesn't know that I was hired elsewhere at all. This was also Mr. Onceler's idea, but I pretended like I'd gotten a letter from my family that my mother was ill, and I needed to leave as soon as possible to help care for her. She wasn't exactly happy, but she understood and accepted my resignation without complaint, especially when we got the new maid settled in.”

“Good. I'm glad there's still someone there, and that she's not alone. That would drive her mad,” you murmur. “And… how is she otherwise?”

“She's still in a state of shock,” Nellie sighs. “She eats and speaks very little. I haven't the faintest idea why she reacted so violently, but she's now got the idea in her head that you pursued him specifically because she told you not to–”

“That's absurd!” you interrupt. “I didn't pursue him at all, and I told her this was the best way to preserve our reputation. She just refused to listen to reason.”

“I know,” Nellie agrees, calming you a bit. “She is being unreasonable though, so we cannot expect rationality from her at present. Again, I cannot say why she is doing this, but she's so determined to cling to the belief that all who are New Money are unsuitable that she's willing to go to great lengths–no matter how preposterous–to keep that line of thought. She would rather believe that you were a rebel this whole time than accept she was wrong about Mr. Onceler.”

You pull your knees up to your chest and hug them. “So I take it there's no hope for any reconciliation yet?” You know the answer without needing to see Nellie's shake of the head.

“She's only mentioned you once since you left,” she says hesitantly, like she almost doesn't want to tell you this. But you knew Nellie would never lie to you, not even to spare your feelings. “The morning after, she demanded to know if I had helped, but I convinced her I was as clueless as she. And then… well, she ordered me to start selling your things. But I managed to save most of what you care about.” As if one cue, there's a knock at the door, and after you allow them to enter, Mr. Onceler comes in, carrying some of Nellie's luggage. He dips out quickly, leaving the two of you alone.

Nellie excitedly opens a bag. In it, you see some of your favorite jewelry, including a pair of pearl earrings that had been a gift from your father. She also managed to stash some favorite dresses. Only one item surprised you: she decided to bring your debutante dress.

“Why this one?” you question, holding it up. “You know I was never in love with it, and I can hardly think of an occasion where I have a reason to wear it again; I think their whole purpose is to be worn only once.”

“It's not so much the dress itself, but what it symbolizes,” Nellie explains. “You became a woman to the world in this dress. You met your eventual husband in this dress. Whether you knew it at the time or not, in this dress you decided to be your own person, not your mother's puppet. I thought it was something you could tell your daughters one day, if you're fortunate enough to have them.”

The smile you'd been wearing slips from your face when she mentions children. Mr. Onceler had made it clear that he expected heirs from you. But your own mother had had such a hard time carrying… you were the only survivor out of several siblings. You and she were a modern-day Katherine and Mary.

You put the dress down and look at Nellie. “I know you just got here, and probably want to settle in, but Nellie… could you do something for me?”

[oh-surprise-its-me]

Roy/Jamie idea: Roy and Jamie are on their honeymoon when an epic disaster happens like a tsunami or an avalanche. They try to hold on to each other but get torn apart. They each survive but think the other has perished. Somehow after wandering, helping others, and desperately searching for each other they wind up in the same refuge area and literally sit down next to each other, to exhausted to realize at first until they both finally turn around and actually see each other. It’s sheer bedlam after that and it doesn’t let up, only getting more chaotic when they finally get home. Even with the vortex of chaos happening around them, they have each other and that’s all that matters.

All y’all are on me for the angst goddamn okay I hear you. I will try my best like always 🫡.

Roy is exhausted, he saw Jamie disappear into the white fluff. He felt him slip away. He felt him die.

No. He’s not dead until there’s a body. Roy tilts his head back. He’s so tired, he helped distract kids earlier, he held a 6 year old for a long time who’s dad was till missing.

He comforted a mother who’s 16 year old daughter is in an hospital bed.

He’s so tired. This was supposed to be their honeymoon.

He collapses into a row of chairs. He tilts his head back to sleep for a bit, he pulls his hood up around himself.

———————

Jamie had bruises with bruises. He felt like a giant bruise. But that doesn’t matter because Roy is till missing, he felt Roy slide out of his fingers. Watched him disappear, he knows he might be dead. But he can’t think like that or he’ll go crazy.

He’d found two people when looking for Roy. A dad that’s frantic and a 22 year old who doesn’t speak any English, thank god for Dani teaching them all basic Spanish.

He stuck with the 22 year old for a while because she was so scared, he never stopped looking for Roy though. He didn’t see him.

He sees a line of chairs, he might as well sit for a while, might try to sleep, there’s an open chair next to a man with his hood up, hopefully he won’t mind if Jamie sleeps next to him.

~~~~~~~~

When Roy wakes up, there is a weight to his shoulder, he assumes it’s Jamie until he doesn’t feel a bus rocking back and forth and hears a baby cry.

His eyes open. He remembers now.

He glances down, the person has their hood up, blond hair peaks out of it.

He’s about to lay back and let them sleep some more when they move their right arm, tattoos. Jamie’s tattoos.

Roy stands up. The other person yanks up before they fall into the chairs.

“Shit sorry mate I’m used to sleeping on my husband, must’ve thought you were him.”

Jamie coughs, “not like I can be used to it anymore.”

“Why not.”

Jamie jerks in his chair. He looks up at Roy. “Are you real.”

Roy nods.

Jamie slams into Roy. They fall to the ground, causing some people around them to gasp, they both are crying, stumbling over ‘I love you’s’ and ‘I thought you were gone’.

A paramedic comes over and asks them if they’d like to share a bed for the night. They instantly agree.

Roy lays down first on his back, Jamie lays on top trying to put as little pressure on his bruises as possible.

Jamie’s face is in Roy’s neck, they just keeps saying I love you back and forth.

This was a shit show. And a horrible experience but they’ve got each others.