#INSPIRED SPECIFICALLY BY THE BOOK

[echobsilly]

(Ooh, he’s in rehearsal!!!)

My entry for the Thespius Fashionista Zine :-D inspired by the Ballets Russes! 🌈🩰

[paintedcrows]

He may be a God, but I am a Scientist

[lemonavocado]

"oh i love frankenstein! my favorite quote from the novel is i have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine-" grabs you by the throat and chokes you violently

[jamtamart]

what conclave movie did yall watch

[karmathenightowl]

At long last, here's my design of Victor Frankenstein from Taz vs Dracula (with a bit of lore sprinkled as well)!

[hyoukanee]

Herald of the Wind and his Storm Queen ⚔️

[stars-obsession-pit]

Walking the right path between the planes

There’s something wrong with the Fenton basement lab.

Well, okay, there’s a lot of things wrong with it. Even before the ghosts started to come through, it was kinda a chaotic mess with half-finished devices. But normal lab safety isn’t what Danny is talking about.

Something about the space itself is wrong. Has been since the portal opened, he thinks.

It’s not immediately obvious. He doesn’t think anyone else has noticed it besides him. But sometimes, when he moves across the room, his position doesn’t quite match up with where it should be.

And he’s determined to find out why.

So he starts to map it out. It’s not easy. Just taking a measuring tape to the walls finds nothing amiss, no matter how many times he tries. It’s only when following certain paths that things change. And those paths are complex, winding throughout the room in nonsensical ways. More akin to spiderwebbing cracks than roads, and sometimes shifting from day to day. But he’s making progress, he thinks. Getting closer.

And eventually, he carefully traces out a path, and steps out into someplace else entirely…

You see, when the Fentons punched a hole into the Infinite Realms, it wasn’t a clean split. Sure, the portal worked, but the edges also skimmed through into other worlds too. Not much, but enough that following just the right path can allow you to slip through the cracks to the other side…

[lotus-pear]

bsd fic authors i understand yalls pain SO well right now why is it so fucking HARD to write dazai. like i have a whole fucking spreadsheet dedicated to tireless analysis i have done on my part so i can accurately characterize him but he is such an unpredictable and morally gray character that it's hard knowing his limits and boundaries and where he draws the line for himself.

[freaky-flawless]

I know its canon that Twyla and Spectra are friends...

But in my heart, Twyla hates her guts.

[marzipanandminutiae]

leaning out the window, sighing dramatically, waiting for my true love (a good movie adaptation of Ella Enchanted) to rescue me from horrible circumstances (the current movie adaptation of Ella Enchanted)

[bookhobbit]

In many ways getting in touch with my inner child would mean giving in to the private impulse to be a hater. People are always talking about childlike wonder and awe but I was a VERY critical person as a kid with a long list of things I disliked heartily.

[franzthemeerkat]

Having Armand still dating Louis during the interview is a major departure from the book and I've been thinking about why they would choose to do that. I'd love to hear what other people think about that decision making process, but I've managed to convince myself it's, in part, evidence that they're planning on doing a 70s devil minion reveal.

After you decide to age up Daniel and do a second interview, the question of his relationship with Armand is one of the big decisions you have to make next. Do you include that relationship after the first interview, like the book, or take it out/do it out of the second interview? If you include the relationship in the 70s that does present a pretty big problem to the idea of a second interview. Daniel would know a lot about vampires, and probably a lot about Louis's story too, and you have the fact that Armand turned him while they were together. It's pretty easy to punt Armand turning him, and I can see Armand's powers expanding pretty naturally to memory alteration (or maybe he does do that in the books? Idk I'm only on the second book). Then, the question is why did they break up, and why would he remove Daniel's memories? Armand still being with Louis seems like a pretty good way of tying up all of those, and it also gives you a neat way to set up the fact that Armand can take away memories.

[allthislove]

This is an excerpt from the book I'm writing about Anansi & Hermes, but you could also think of it as an IWTV (AMC) AU. These beautiful monsters definitely inspired me a lot. If you like supernatural stuff, mythology, queer romance, and the like, this book will be for you!

Just in case it wasn't clear:

Hermes - Sam

Anansi - Jacob

“What are you doing?” Hermes asked warmly as he stepped into Anansi’s small kitchen, the handsome young form he’d taken on covertly working over the counter, his back to Hermes. Andre, he was calling himself. Andre, after the legendary African-American actor who had portrayed Hermes so wonderfully in a hit Broadway show. Hermes couldn’t help but be warmed by the choice of name. Hermes had noticed the connection, the first time he heard Anansi introduce himself as Andre. It was the day after their first night together, rekindling what they’d always known was inevitable. Their bond. Their need for each other. More than just love— some invisible tie that bound them to one another, always leading them home to the other’s arms. Then, he realized that Andre was the name Anansi had been using since he’d started his life in New York just a couple of years earlier, the name printed on his documents, on his New York State ID card. He’d wanted to ask Anansi about it– if he was right about the name’s origin. Anansi never usually put much thought into his names, just choosing things that sounded nice and fit the era and the place. But Anansi confirmed it for him casually one day as if the Spider could sense Hermes’ curiosity.

Now, Hermes’ curiosity was piqued by the odd behavior of the Spider in his humble NYC kitchen, his slim body pressed against the counter, his shoulders hunched forward just slightly and his head tilted forward with a kind of focus. Hermes pressed forward into the kitchen, and his eyes caught a glimpse of something metallic in Anansi’s hand. It was a kitchen knife, the kind with a black handle and a stainless steel blade that you might buy at a discount from a big box store. Unremarkable in every way. Anansi, though, was pressing the blade into his all-too-human wrist, and he sliced it easily, the blood seeping from the wound and halfway filling a small glass jar that was placed on the counter in front of him. Hermes swiftly took the knife from him, his godly hand grasping Andre’s wrist and healing it immediately. Their eyes met. Andre seemed startled by Hermes’ speed as much as he seemed ashamed to have been caught.

“What are you doing?” Hermes repeated, this time exasperated– horrified by what he’d witnessed. Surely, Anansi hadn’t brought him to this life, to Andre, only to end things. No mortal death ended Anansi for long. He shed human personas like a second skin, and easily crawled into the next one as if the previous had never existed. But Hermes had never seen him end one on purpose.

“Never mind,” Andre said, his brown eyes shifting back to his task as he took his wrist away from Hermes pointedly. Those were the words he’d repeat when he was doing something magical that he didn’t want to explain, but Hermes hated the dismissiveness. He was a God of Olympus. He dealt in shadows and cunning just as much as Anansi did– maybe more, if he allowed himself to be honest about it. He stood just behind Andre’s shoulder, and he watched him take the bloody knife and reopen the wound, the young man only wincing a bit as if the pain of the blade was nothing more than a mild annoyance.

“Andre will die, Anansi–”

“He won’t. Never mind,” Andre said evenly. Hermes watched as Andre drained blood from his wrist into the jar again. When the jar was full, Andre pushed his bloody wrist into his mouth and fumbled for the jar’s lid.

“Why are you collecting a jar of your blood?” Hermes asked. The blood shimmered like rubies. Anansi’s blood wasn’t golden, the way an Olympian’s blood was. It was red, like them. Like the humans. But the divinity of his birth was still evident in it. Humans had deep red blood that was beautiful but mundane in its shade and consistency. Anansi’s blood almost glowed, and it seemed to shimmer like so many galaxies caught in a jar.

“Never mind, Messenger,” Andre muttered around his wrist, his mouth bloodied from the wound that hadn’t stopped bleeding, that ruby blood seeping over his pinkish-brown lips. Hermes sighed, and he took Andre’s forearm in his hand, easing the wounded wrist away from Andre’s mouth and he covered the wound with his hand, healing it. Their eyes met again, and Andre nodded a bit to thank him.

“The wrist,” Hermes said, “is a great place to get a good blood flow, but it’s difficult to stop the bleeding. There are arteries there–”

“I know,” Andre said evenly.

“It’s why they do it when they’re tired of living,” Hermes said pointedly. Andre scoffed.

“I never tire of living, Hermes,” Andre said evenly. Hermes swiped the blood from his lips and chin, his thumb lingering on Andre’s beautiful brown face. “If I don’t give him blood, he’ll lock me away. And you know I can’t live as a caged bird.”

“Who?” Hermes perked a brow.

“I’ve said ‘never mind’ three times, my love,” Andre replied curtly. He picked up the bloody knife and stepped over to the sink, rinsing it. “Not everything is the concern of your kind. Clean the counter for me, will ya, Merc?” Hermes scoffed at the old nickname, but he cleaned the blood from the counter with a wave of his hand. 

“Is this ‘he’... someone I should be concerned about?” Hermes asked casually, trying not to sound as worried as he felt. Anansi sometimes played with things he shouldn’t. Old things. Things that even the gods didn’t truly understand. Andre gave him a look, and Hermes fought a smile. “I know. ‘Never mind.’ But I do mind, Anansi.”

“All will be well as long as he gets his jar of blood,” Andre said evenly. “If I’m gone for a few days, don’t you worry bout me, lover.”

“Gone? With him?” Hermes inferred, and he studied Andre, watching his head nod, his long locs dancing against his back as he did. “Spider.”

“Mmm,” Andre put the cleaned knife on the counter beside the sink and he grasped his jar of blood, capping it up tightly. 

“Are you bound by something?” Hermes asked, barely hiding his concern.

“Ain’t that deep,” Andre said swiftly. He glanced at Hermes, and he smiled at him, holding up his jar of ruby blood, in it, shimmering galaxies of his divinity.

[artemispanthar]

Books be like "She was in her mid-40s"

Movie and TV adaptations of that same book be like "She was 23"

[fideidefenswhore]

Eloquent and lengthy speeches, put into Anne's mouth at her trial and on the scaffold, should be read with scepticism...

but the 'notoriously unreliable' spanish chronicle...shouldn't?

[aquamonstra]

I think it says a lot about the sad state of Hollywood that none of the live action nutrek series have had the balls to set their stories after Voyager, and I think it's because they're too big of fucking cowards to address the issues of the rights and autonomy behind artificial intelligence set in motion in both Voyager and TNG.

Like I get it there's a bunch of interesting stuff that happened between present day and TOS but FUCK THAT SHIT WHAT HAPPENS AFTER VOYAGER!?!?!?!?!?!?