#Victor could have done a bit more against Dorian

[dradelcra]

I know it's like a common trait that Victor would probably faint from exposure or something but can I suggest (as someone who barely read the book, disclaimer) that he could probably handle more physically than we imagine.

Like, e.g, Hastie (Lanyon) died from seeing Hyde (you know the rest) into Jekyll, so like, comparing that with the creature, I think he held on pretty well. If I saw my passion project, at age 17-19, like get up, i'd probably faint on the spot. Like, y'know when you're a kid experimenting something and then the microwave explodes, like what do you do now? (unrelated)

Homeboy has a rage inside him that could probably initiate a fight and even though he got sick to d-word in the arctic a little later, i'd say he did better than me if I were trudging the snow tundra (i've only seen snow irl once).

So like, I feel as if, Victor could probably take on a guy who wasn't 8ft tall, y'know?

Could he win? idk. i'm leaving that to the experts (Frankenfry community). But like, hear me out, consider-

[aerequets]

can you give me some webtoon recommendations? name some of your favorites! :)

i am here to answer folks 😎

all of these webtoons can be found on webtoons.com! I'm not sure about the whole daily pass thing they've got going on (which sucks tbh) but like,,, you could probably find it online illegally. NOT THAT I CONDONE ILLEGAL ACTIVITY HAHAHAHA ᵖˢˢᵗ ⁱᶠ ʸᵒᵘ ˡᵒᵒᵏ ⁱᵗ'ˢ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ

I'll split these up between completed and in progress :) most are still in progress though

COMPLETED

1) Gourmet Hound (166 chapters)

this is like, my all time favorite webtoon. it follows Lucy and her quest to find all the chefs that left her favorite restaurant, Dimanche! it’s a really heartfelt story and the food illustrations make you really hungry, so make sure you have a snack before you sit down to read it. each character’s name is also food-related, so that’s pretty cool too! and the diversity in this webtoon is AMAZING. it’s the only webtoon i’ve ever read that has a hijabi character in the main cast. the development is done really well and it explores themes of loving and letting go. all in all, it has a bit of everything. i personally love food-related things, and this centers around it, so i was set LOL

(also a bonus is that this webtoon has NOT succumbed to daily pass hell, so you can binge read the whole thing. legally.)

2) Hooky (200 chapters)

if you like stories of witches, this is the one! the summary and beginning chapters are deceptively lighthearted. DO NOT BE FOOLED! the story really develops further on and explores numerous conflicts, a big one being (if i remember correctly) witch vs. nonwitch. if you like to see struggles between two sides, not a good-and-evil but just people-who-want-the-best-for-themselves-and-their-loved-ones type of thing, this is good for that. also, sibling love! the two main characters are Dani and Dorian, and while there is someee romance, i like how this story centers around the siblings first and foremost. ALSO THE ART??? I LOVE HOW THE AUTHOR DRAWS SETTINGS SO MUCH and am unabashedly jealous because i am completely incapable of doing so   just like,,,, even if the story doesn’t pull you in, you can at least stare at each panel for long stretches of time.

(unfortunately succumbed to daily pass, but you can read it on mangaowl or manganelo!)

3) Spirit Fingers (167 chapters)

aww, this one is cute. Amy is 18 and lacking in self confidence (her family definitely doesn’t help). but HEY she joins a wacky art club!! without her parents knowing!! HECK YEAH!! unfortunately it takes more than joining an art club for her to learn to love herself (it is a long journey after all!). i love this webtoon because it explores the problems of multiple people, not just amy: her high achieving brothers, her mother who had to give up her dream, the different members in the art club, Amy’s girl friends. the art is unique and has a cool watercolor-y texture! and the main couple is just adorable, too. if you’re an artist especially, i recommend this because that’s a big theme and you get to see these characters expand their art styles! which is very cool!

(you can read this one fully on 1stkissmanga)

now here’s where the majority of my recs are:

IN PROGRESS (all can be read on webtoon.com)

1) The Makeup Remover (currently 71 chapters)

i look forward to this every tuesday and friday because oh man!!!!!!!!! idk about you guys, but i am thinking about beauty standards A Large Amount of the time, especially when i consume media. and this webtoon is all about beauty standards (specifically in Korea, but still applicable like. everywhere). Main character Yeseul ends up having to partake in this beauty competition and, with her experiences through it, she begins seeing makeup and beauty standards for the huge role they play in society. i said it already but i LOVE LOVE LOVE this webtoon because it really challenges you as a reader to think about your own perspectives. why do we find the things/people beautiful that we do? what shapes our perception? how much of it is marketing, and how much of it shows in our daily lives? what assumptions do you make about people based on how they look? AGHH im sounding like an essay prompt instead of a reviewer but man. if you like webtoons that examine society through a critical lens (gosh i sound like an english teacher), this is the one. 

2) Odd Girl out (currently 261 chapters; on season 2) 

okay, first and foremost: if you’re NOT into long winded drama, this probably isn’t it for you. i will admit im not a fan of long problems that get dragged out, especially in a school setting, but i did keep reading this webtoon and i am glad that i did! the character development here is amazing and ONE CRUCIAL THING is that the whole first season (which is many, many chapters. at least over 100) focuses on the friendship between our main 4 girls. if you don’t wanna wait for a romance storyline (which comes in season 2), then you’ve gotta have the patience of a saint. i loved this though because lots of romance webtoons cast friendships aside or use them to further the romantic plot. platonic relationships are great to read about and this one does it masterfully! main character nari is resilient and emotionally strong, and it’s great to see her ruin her enemies

3) Cursed Princess Club (currently 110 chapters; on break before the final season)

this is another one about beauty and societal expectations, but in a fantasy setting! it’s really funny and the cast of characters is heartwarming. Gwen is a princess, but she doesn’t look like the typical princess. she accidentally stumbles upon the Cursed Princess Club, which is exactly what it sounds like: a club for princesses that have been cursed and are trying to find their self worth despite not being conventional princesses! now that i think about it, this is like a lighthearted mixture of Makeup Remover and Spirit Fingers. although while i do say “lighthearted”, this webtoon has its fair share of mysteries and exploration of deeper topics. but its funny throughout

4) Brass & Sass (currently 83 chapters)

ahh this one is really cute and the art is cute, too! i also like how this has a diverse cast. high schooler Camilla kinda sucks at band, but dangit if she’s not passionate. Victor is some type of musical prodigy but he’s a brass-hole (hahaha get it. no that’s not original i ripped it from the summary). now i KNOW I KNOW, the whole “perky girl and asshole guy” is so overplayed BUT DON’T FRET! this isn’t the type of story where the girl “fixes” the guy, or where the guy is an asshole to everyone except the girl. believe me, the character development and relationship development in this story is SPLENDID. there’s no real antagonist. it’s just a bunch of high schoolers trying their best to make themselves and everyone else happy, and that’s hard! the story is carried more by the characters than by the plot, but it works well in this case since the characters are strong and each one has a presence. 

5) Surviving Romance (currently 10 chapters)

this one is relatively new compared to my other recs but it’s by the author of the Makeup Remover so yaknow i had to hop on it. BUT IT IS VERY DIFFERENT! first off, it’s a horror, so keep that in mind. the best way i can describe it is a mixture of the standard “girl falls into a story” genre, Groundhog Day, and zombies. Yeah. Bascially, Chaerin is our main girl and she’s in a romance story that’s she’s read a bajillion times, so she knows the day has come for her male lead to confess his love! except he doesn’t! because he becomes a zombie instead! hahaha well that sucks! it’s only got 10 chapters but i am very into it, and it seems to be taking an emphasis on platonic relationships, so i am very closely watching 👁👁

6) The Witch and the Bull (currently 60 chapters) 

another witch story! and the art is GORGEOUS. more witch + nonwitch conflict, too! our main dude, Tan, is the royal advisor and he’s hella bigoted against witches. our main girl, Aro, happens to be a witch. and Tan needs her help to make him into a human again (because he got turned into a bull. that is worth mentioning). this is a very barebones summary and there’s a lot more that goes on, but that’s the general gist of the beginning!

ANYWAYS. this got very long, predictably, and i rambled for each title, predictably. i’ve got more that i’m reading, but i really like these 9! i also made comments on the art for a lot of them, which might not matter to some people, but i feel like my art was very impacted by each webtoon i read. if you’re an artist i recommend finding a webtoon you like and studying the art; try implementing parts you like into your own style! 

anyways, i am FINALLY done talking. bye yall 

[voidselfshipp]

[Violet Fan]

Arno x Jerico

I used Google translate so if anything Wonky y'know why

Often times parties were a sign of richness and greed.

An special event to celebrate something perhaps too.

Arno,always attracted to these kind of events found his way in.

The colossal Palace was brightly lit with chandeliers hanging from the ostentatious ceilings ornamented with gold and contrasting the white walls.

"Why this big of a party?", he asked himself.

The french Man bumps into someone,they drop their purple fan.

--Oh my most sincere apologies madame

He picked the item up and handed it to the person.

Their eyes meet, its a beautiful woman, porcelain skin and sharp features,big green eyes.

Her eyes were most peculiar, arno felt his breath hitch, he swore they were shining under her cute Hat decorated with sunflowers,Like emeralds under a candle.

Her hair in a bun covered by said hat with a few loose strands of hair.

Her attire was most peculiar, It looked familiar yet New to him.

18th century gown with earthy colours, another dress or something with some kind of turtle neck stamped with sunflowers.

--Oh dont worry--she said in a subtle accent he never heard before-- im too clumsy too

Then a Man,taller than arno looked at this mysterious girl, and spoke to her in a foreign tongue.

--hir kazwiv--(yes father) she answered back--Im sorry but I have to go

And so like that the Man and that enigmatic Lady dissapeared Into the crowd.

Who was she? What language was that?.

--You really outdid yourself this time Ray!

Jer pulled down on the Mans sleeve.

--Dont give me that look we still have to wait 100 Years more to reveal ourselves.

The Man sighed,he loved her daughter dearly but he had to admit that sometimes she was too much to handle.

--That doesnt mean you shouldnt let me have fun!besides he only gave my fan back!.

--ah mr Karuma Von terra and ms. Jerico Von terra,glad you could make it, is france too much to handle?

Ray wants to roll his eyes so bad,but he shakes his head and forces a smile-- not at all

--we Will discuss our arragement with you mr.von terra , let your daughter enjoy her stay at the Palace and have fun , oh and heres the keys to your bedroom ms.Von terra

Jer quickly takes the keys and puts it in her dresses inner pockets,terrans fashion was way out of this centuries reach.

Ray cant say anything before his daughter runs away from his grasp.

Both men walk alongside the other.

--Sadly mr Morgan couldnt make it,being a doctor took a toll on him,however he did say he Will come by to say hello.

Ray nodds

--Children huh?

The terran Man smiles --Yeah, rowdy bunch,however jerico seems to be having fun, shes a Smart kid,sadly until our reveal to the world isnt done I am afraid I cant let her get into trouble,we cant delay this any longer

His companion nodds and guides him to an Office.

Meanwhile,her daughter was talking with some of her father acquaintances.

She politely excused her leave and decided to find some more food to munch on.

The crowd seemed thick and busy.

Arno was looking everywhere for that girl, so much he started to sweat and he rested against a wall.

A soft breeze reached his face and when he Turned to see what was causing it, he felt dumb.

--too warm?--It was that woman she was looking for.

--Im afraid so...., Arno Victor Dorian

--Jerico Von Terra

He softly grabs her spare hand and kisses the back of it.

Her cheeks flush and she lets him hold her hand for a bit longer.

They Keep eye contact for a bit too, and suddenly, realizing that it was in fact too busy for their liking.

The french Man noticed that something was wrong,jeri seemed twitchy and unconfortable.

--Everything okay mademoissele?

She can only shake her head and thats when he realizes shes overwhelmed by the huge crowd.

He nodds and puts a hand on her Lower back trying to find an exit.

There, a stair that leads up to the guest bedrooms.

He pushed her closer to him as they passed the gatherings of people,helping her up the stairs.

Once on the upper floor she makes a signal to arno, he follows up to her bedroom.

Its spacy with decorations on the walls and ceilings,flowers And a big bed, he thought that maybe three people could fit in there.

Jerico sat on the bed, the Man sat with her and grabbed the fan from her shaky hands, using it to cool her down.

She hasnt spoke and whatever was left for him to do was to hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder and then down to her bicep to push her against his chest while still fanning her.

--Thank you

She whispers pressing her head to his chest.

The frenchmans cheeks flush red and tightens his grip around her.

He hasnt felt this way since....since elise,rest in peace.

His heart healed from old wounds a long time ago, and suddenly he felt it Flourish again at the sight of her.

--Anything I can get you?

He asked.

--Maybe water,and could you tell a servant to inform mr von terra that im here?

--Hes your father I suppose?-- she nodds- very Well miss ill be right back....

Arno leaves giving her back the fan, asking for a glass of water and telling a maid to deliver the message to jericos father.

Now the night went on , so did the party.

Altough Ray did not approve of arno being alone with jerico in her room,he trusted his daughters judgement for once.

Jer was looking out the balcony, arno comes from behind and squeezes her shoulder--How are you feeling now belle? (Beautiful?)

--alors vous demandez à tout le monde comment vont-ils?(so thats how you ask everyone how are they?)

--seulement ceux qui me semblent jolis(only to those I find pretty)

--And you find me pretty?

--oui (yes)

Arnos hand holds jericos as they lean into the other,his spare arm hugs her waist and Jers falls loosely around his Lower back.

Their lips press togheter for an instant,before parting away and then again meeting the other.

He felt like not letting go, he didnt want to leave tonight.

He felt his heart explode in Many colours as the vitraux in the cathedral when the sun hits it.

--Stay?--she asked softly as their foreheads pressed togheter.

--How long Will you stay?I cant say goodbye now

Jer felt her chest warm, and pressed a soft kiss on his lips again--A month maybe,but I do wish to see you again monsieur dorian...

Arno lifts her up like a bride and carries her back to the bed where he promptly lets her back rest and hover above her, letting his head fall on the crook of her neck to then cuddle her in said bed.

--Then ill stay

Jerico smiles , hugging him tightly.

Arno knew almost nothing about her,but this whole night felt right.

--bonne nuit chéri(good night sweetheart)

--bonne nuit mon prince( good night my prince)

And they were just getting started.

Every afternoon while Ray discussed the affairs that had brought them there, jerico and arno would sneak out to eat something at the most beautiful cafes in france.

Walk among the shore, and travel the markets.

When the clouds were present and the rain fell mercislessly upon france, they would be found in bed, cuddling eachother in the dark as the fireplace cracked.

And slowly,jer started to reveal who she was.

But not things like,what she liked, what interests she had,wich books she read,he found out about that the first week they spent togheter.

No, where she came from,why so much mistery upon their arrival.

She was a princes from a Place yet to be discovered,or to be revealed to humanity.

He had to spend a whole day processing all the information he was given.

And, yet that only made him want her more.

But love grew and the month fled away fast.

Both lovers were scared of separation, they couldnt be appart for long.

Ray,who had loved as strongly as his daughter did, decided to let her stay in a Palace in the outskirts of france in wich arno would move in a couple of weeks after.

Jer had the opportunity to leave france whenever she wanted.

But seeing that her love for arno was too big,as were his, it seemed that it would be a long time before that would happend.

Now,in a hot summer day, jer was under a tree, Reading when she felt a breeze.

--Mon amour...--her boyfriend said using the same purple fan who helped them meet to cool her down- May I get a kiss?

Jeri giggled at the dorkiness of arno, and nodded, kissing him softly.

They were not letting go any time soon.

《OKAY TO RB AND GUSH IN THE TAGS》

[seehowsupplethespineis]

Some Crazy 19th Century Literary Characters Live Together And It Goes About As Well As One Would Think

(Hullo! Yes, it has been awhile since anything has been posted here, and I’m breaking that hiatus with this bit of utter nonsense! Drawing Entity and I had a roleplay recently with classic literary characters who are a bit sketchy, so I decided to take that concept and turn it into a story. Is it to be taken seriously? Nope. This is just me poking fun at some characters that I love in a “what if” scenario. It’s all meant to be humorous and ridiculous.)

(Characters include Van Helsing from Dracula, Moreau from The Island of Doctor Moreau, Griffin from The Invisible Man, Frankenstein from Frankenstein, Gray from The Picture of Dorian Gray, Jekyll and Hyde from Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Moriarty from one of the Sherlock Holmes stories, and Raskolnikov from Crime and Punishment.)

(Note: I know all the characters come from different decades, so this is broadly set somewhere in the mid-1800s. They’re all about as old as they are in their stories. Also, when you see “<...>,” that means they’re speaking in Russian, since Raskolnikov is Russian.)

(Warnings: Blood, violence, weapons, mentioned mauling, gore, hangover, mentions of drinking, generally apathetic characters, brief mention of depressive behavior)

Morning light managed to escape the neverending grey of the mist outside. It shone through the dew speckled window and shined a light on Abraham Van Helsing, who’d been awake for the past three hours or so reading science article after science article. Some of them were new, some of them he’d read but needed a refresher on. Van Helsing wasn’t one to sleep in when there was reading to be done or work to complete (work usually meant preparing for his next escapade into the cemetery, or simply going to teach at the local university).

Glancing at the clock on the wall, the old man saw the time to be half past 7.00, which meant breakfast would be served shortly. Folding up his magazine, he slowly slid out of bed, stretching cramped muscles. Becoming increasingly old meant that he was wiser with each day, so he supposed it was only fair his body maintain balance by withering away. It didn’t make the ache in his back any less irritating, though.

Van Helsing got himself washed up and dressed, then proceeded to the door. He noticed the doorknob shone more than usual. With a sigh, he withdrew his handkerchief from his pocket and turned the handle with it wrapped around his hand. We really must confront Moriarty about this.

As he stepped out onto the landing, Van Helsing heard soft footsteps immediately stop. Turning, he caught sight of a squat, hairy man with roguish features paused in front of the door to Jekyll’s quarters. The man looked at him, then at the door, then back again.

Van Helsing gestured impatiently, “Oh, go on then. Don’t make Jekyll late for breakfast.”

The short man grinned, tipped his top hat, then proceeded quietly into Jekyll’s room. Van Helsing cast his gaze up to the ceiling as he moved to the staircase. Hyde had been late to return, which meant he’d probably gotten up to his ears in trouble, which meant an angry mob banging on their door sometime this morning, which meant Van Helsing had to hurry and eat so he could calm the troubled citizens.

Quickening his pace, he reached the ground floor and strode purposefully to the dining hall, hoping their cook had finished preparing the meal. They’d gone through several cooks this month, either because the last one quit or disappeared without a trace in the middle of the night. It was always the same story, and sometimes Van Helsing was glad he didn’t know the exact end.

Griffin was the only one at the table when Van Helsing arrived. He could tell by the floating robes at the far end, as well as the floating newspaper.

“Good morning, Dr Griffin.”

A “harumph” was the only response.

“Did you sleep well?”

“No.”

“I am sorry to hear that.” Van Helsing settled himself at the head of the table, folding his hands in his lap, “Any exciting news today?” 

“Just the usual political drivel.” The paper began folding itself in mid-air then went sliding across the table. Van Helsing caught it and examined the newsprint for himself. As always, he scanned the pages for any mentions of unusual happenings, like a missing corpse or reports of a blood-sucking creature. He found none but knew that hardly meant there were no vampires in the area.

The door opened just then to admit a young man with dark hair and a wary expression.

“Good morning, Rodion Romanovich.”

Raskolnikov gave Van Helsing a tight nod then seated himself beside the older man, hunching over in his seat.

“How did you sleep?” Van Helsing asked.

The young man considered how to respond for a few seconds before alighting on the proper words, speaking with a thick Russian accent, “I slept well.”

“Perfect!” Van Helsing beamed. Raskolnikov seemed pleased with himself.

“Good morning, housemates!” The door was thrown open and Dorian Gray sauntered in, flashing everyone a dazzling smile with perfect teeth. Raskolnikov shrank in his seat and Van Helsing was sure he heard Griffin sigh.

Gray collapsed neatly into a chair, throwing his legs up on the seat beside him, “I trust you all had a good night. I can say that I did.”

“I’ll bet,” Griffin huffed, “I saw you drinking in the common room when I went up to bed at midnight.”

“Oh, I was just having a bit of fun. You all can be such downers and sometimes spirits are the only way to lift my spirits.”

“How are you not hungover?”

“I didn’t have that much.”

“Didn’t- You and Hyde nearly finished our entire supply!”

“Mr Hyde was with you?” Van Helsing spoke up.

“He was for about an hour, then he said he had ‘business elsewhere’ and jumped out the window. Strange fellow.”

Van Helsing nodded gloomily. A drunk Hyde running amok in England was not good.

“I think we should be prepared for another mob, then.” he said as someone else came into the room.

“Another mob?” Dr Moreau paused in the entryway, “But I covered my tracks!”

Van Helsing looked up, “Beg pardon?”

Moreau frowned, “Are we talking about me?”

“We were not.”

“Oh, well then, I guess I’m safe.” The vivisectionist quietly took his place beside Griffin. Van Helsing considered questioning him but decided against it; there was an unspoken policy of don’t-ask-about-my-illegal-activities-and-I-won’t-ask-about-yours in this house.

James Moriarty was the next to arrive. His serpentine like gaze raked over his housemates as he stood by the door and fixed on Van Helsing.

Van Helsing waved, “Yes, professor, I am still alive. Try harder next time.”

Moriarty came to sit next to Gray, “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re speaking of.”

“Poison on the doorknob? Really?” Van Helsing continued, “How childish.”

“I can assure you, my fellow professor, that if I wished you dead, I’d go about it in a more clever way.” Moriarty sniffed, “Poison is far beneath me.”

Van Helsing rolled his eyes, “Well, if it wasn’t you, then who?”

“Perhaps it was one of those vampires you’re always going on about.”

“Nonsense! I’ve vampire-proofed this house. No creature of the night is coming in here.”

“My mistake.” Moriarty sighed. He turned in his seat, “Where is that cook? Breakfast should have been on the table five minutes ago.”

“He’s new here.” Van Helsing said in the cook’s defense, “Give him time. It can’t be easy catering to... people like us.”

“You mean mad people.” Gray translated, “It’s alright, you can say it. We all know you people are crazy.”

“ ‘You people’ not including yourself, I presume.” Griffin grumbled.

Gray grinned at him, “You presume correctly.”

Raskolnikov frowned at all of them and leaned over to Van Helsing, “<What are they talking about?>”

Van Helsing folded up his newspaper, “<We are just wondering where the cook is.>”

“<Has another one disappeared?>”

“<I hope not.>”

The doors were once again pushed open and a timid young man trudged in. His appearance was quite professional, though Van Helsing noted his hair was not properly combed back and his hands fidgeting and nervous. His skin was an unnatural pallor and his expression quite haggard.

“Sorry I’m late.” Dr Jekyll slowly sat beside Raskolnikov, nearly toppling out of his seat. He shaded his eyes against the lamp light “I slept in.”

Everyone exchanged an almost imperceptible glance at that, but no one said anything out loud. Jekyll still hadn’t quite grasped that everyone here was well aware of his “secret.” Van Helsing figured he should let him know sometime, though he couldn’t pretend seeing the doctor flustered as he struggled for alibis wasn’t amusing.

“How are you today, Doctor? You seem… off.” Van Helsing said politely.

Jekyll’s restless gaze snapped up to the older man, “Oh, no, just… slept… wrong.”

“I see...” Hyde must have left him with a serious hangover; his excuses were usually a lot better put together than that.

The table lapsed into silence, broken only by Gray’s humming and the crinkling of paper as Moriarty read the news.

It was Moreau who spoke next, “Where’s Frankenstein?”

Everyone glanced around, having not noticed their housemate wasn’t there.

Moriarty sighed, “He’s probably sulking in his room again.”

“Who wants to go get him this time?” Griffin asked.

When no one was quick to volunteer, Van Helsing took up the initiative, “I’ll fetch him.”

He left the others to their tense silence and marched up the stairs to Victor Frankenstein’s bedroom. The poor man always seemed to get up late and go to bed early, unless he was seized by some fit of scientific passion, though he inevitably dissolved into sobs afterwards. The young scientist always seemed to feel guilty about something.

The old man reached his door and knocked firmly, “Mr Frankenstein? Are you alright?”

There was no response.

He knocked again, “We’re all gathered for breakfast! We would appreciate it if you joined us!”

Still nothing.

Van Helsing huffed in annoyance, “Mr Frankenstein, you have stayed locked up in your room since yesterday morning, and, as far as I know, have not eaten anything since. Now come out of there and have a meal with us.”

There was a long pause, then Van Helsing heard bolts slowly slide back behind the door until it was open enough for a ragged face to peek out.

“Good morning.” Van Helsing said.

Frankenstein gave a long sigh, “I don’t deserve a good morning.”

“Well, I think you do.” the professor slowly pushed the door open wider, “Are you ready to come down?”

“If I have to be.” Frankenstein stepped out into the hallway, blinking against the light from one of the windows. Van Helsing noticed he hadn’t changed since yesterday morning, and probably hadn’t changed since the morning before that.

The two of them walked back downstairs together and into the dining room.

Everyone was gone.

“Hello?” Van Helsing called, a cold feeling of dread creeping upon him, “Dr Moreau? Mr Gray? Rodion Romanovich?”

“In here!” someone called from the side door leading into the kitchen. Van Helsing exchanged a glance with Frankenstein and they rushed to join the others.

All the residents were gathered in a circle around Griffin, who was crouched over a still form on the ground. Van Helsing immediately recognized it as the cook they’d hired not a week ago, despite the blood coating the victim from head to toe and his torn features.

Griffin lifted the cook’s arm by an un-marred section of skin then let it flop to the ground. He cleared his throat, “This man is dead.” he declared.

“Obviously, Sherlock.” Gray said.

“What did I say about using that name?” Moriarty groused.

“How did this happen?” Van Helsing demanded.

Raskolnikov was suddenly very alert, “<It wasn’t me!>”

Moriarty shook his head, “This wasn’t done by a man. This is the work of a wild animal…”

Everyone grew quiet, then slowly turned to Moreau, who was trying to sneak unnoticed out of the room. He paused as he realized they’d caught him.

He sighed, “Alright, in my defense, I was sure that lion was human enough.”

“It’s a lion, idiot!” Griffin exclaimed, “Human doesn’t factor in!”

“I was making progress! He even started speaking!”

“Did he say he was hungry?” Gray asked.

Moreau glared at him, “He wasn’t that intelligent!”

“Yet you let him run amok!” Griffin yelled, sleeves waving in agitation.

“I kept him locked in the closet!”

“Oh, so that’s where you’re supposed to keep a man-eating lion?!”

“He broke out of his cage! Where was I supposed to put him?”

“Um, guys,” Jekyll’s voice was quiet and only Van Helsing seemed to hear him, “Where’d the lion go?”

Bang!

Everyone jumped as the front doors shook from the force of a mass of people throwing themselves against it.

Oh, the mob. Van Helsing had nearly forgotten to expect them.

“Everybody be quiet!” he shouted. The authority in his voice served to silence the bickering scientists, “We’ve got another angry mob outside and a lion on the loose! Now is not the time to argue among ourselves!”

He paused, formulating a plan, “Moreau, you, Frankenstein, and Moriarty find that lion and kill it if necessary. Gray and Jekyll, you come with me to handle the mob. Griffin, Rodion Romanovich, since no one can either see or understand you, keep yourselves locked in one of your bedrooms and stay together.”

“Fine by me!” Griffin had already grabbed Raskolnikov’s sleeve and was racing out of the room with the confused Russian in tow.

“Why must I stay here and handle Moreau’s mess?” Moriarty asked with a sniff.

“Because you’re the smartest of all of us.” Van Helsing said slyly, “You’ll slay that lion easily with that clever head of yours.”

Moriarty nodded, conceding that he was in fact the smartest. Moreau looked distraught.

“Don’t kill it! I’ve been working on him for months!”

“It’s either him or us, pal,” Gray shouted over his shoulder as he sauntered out the door, “And I’m too pretty to die.”

Van Helsing followed the retreating socialite, Jekyll lurching after them.

There were about 30 citizens gathered outside from what Van Helsing could see as he peeked out the window, each armed with all manner of crude weaponry, including brooms and shovels. Bracing himself, Van Helsing pushed open the door, making the crowd fall back.

“What’s all this about?” he asked, trying to appear friendly.

“You know very well what it’s about!” a woman cried, “There’s been a murder in the village, and Mr Hyde is to blame!”

Jekyll gave a quiet “eep” behind Van Helsing. The professor turned to see the doctor’s pale face, deducing that Hyde probably did commit this crime. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But perhaps… “How was the victim killed?” he asked.

“He was beaten by his own cane until his head caved in!”

No, that was Hyde alright. Part of him hoped it might have been the lion or some other crazy person.

“I saw him from my bedroom window!” a man shouted from the back, “He was coming from the murder scene!”

“Lots of people probably came from the general direction in which the crime was committed,” Gray said with an easy smile, “That doesn’t necessarily have to mean they did it.”

The townspeople seemed taken aback, not from Gray’s words, but from his dashing smile. It always seemed to stun anyone subjected to it, at least anyone who didn’t know Gray well enough to see he was an awful person.

Van Helsing seized their advantage, “Exactly! You cannot convict a man with such flimsy evidence. As far as I can tell, no one actually witnessed the murder, so no one can testify. Hyde was simply minding his own business on the city streets, as he is wont to do.”

“B-But…” Gray’s smile intensified and the protester shut up.

Van Helsing slowly stepped back into the house, leaving Gray to further calm the mob. He was good at that. Jekyll had remained partially indoors during the whole interaction and leaped back into the safety of the parlor.

“Now that that’s settled,” Van Helsing began, “I suppose we should help-”

“AAAAAAAUUUUUGGGGGHHHHHH!!!”

Van Helsing and Jekyll jumped in fright at the scream emanating from upstairs.

“Who was that?” Jekyll shouted in alarm, clasping his hands to his ears. From the dining room, Moreau, Frankenstein, and Moriarty came pouring out.

“Egad, the lion must be up there!” Moriarty cried.

“THE LION’S UP HERE!” Griffin’s panicked scream confirmed Moriarty’s suspicion, “HELP US!!!”

“I’ll get a sedative!” Moreau rushed to his room.

“Forget the sedative! We have to put it down!” Frankenstein seemed seized by a fit of determination. He’d grabbed one of the kitchen knives and brandished it as he followed Moreau up the stairs, “You will never kill again, monster!!!”

Gray poked his head inside as he heard all the shouting, “What the heck is going on in here? You’re ruining my progress with this crowd!”

“The lion’s going to eat us!” Jekyll screamed and started running for the backdoor, face-planting into it first before managing to throw it open. Moriarty glanced from him to Van Helsing, then followed the retreating doctor.

“What?!” Gray looked to Van Helsing for guidance.

“Just keep them calm!” Van Helsing instructed and sprinted toward the staircase, “We’ll handle this!”

Taking the stairs two at a time, Van Helsing made his way up to the second level. He’d barely made it halfway before he was gasping for air, his old legs wobbling like jelly. Sprinting had been a bad plan.

“No!” Moreau had a loaded syringe in hand and was chasing after Frankenstein, who was already to Griffin’s bedroom door, “Don’t kill him!”

Frankenstein kicked the door open as Van Helsing made it all the way up, putting on a burst of speed.

The lion was, indeed, very human-like. While it still hunched over, it remained upright, its digitigrade legs trembling with the effort. Its face was feline yet something in the shape of the jaw and the arch of the forehead and nose gave it a human air, an altogether grotesque combination. It had hands with long fingers ending in sharp claws but still no thumb. The torso was thin, crooked slightly to make it stay standing. The tail stuck out so it could keep its balance.

Griffin and Raskolnikov were backed into a corner, the invisible man with a chair leveled at the beast. He turned as the others rushed in.

“Took you long enough!”

Raskolnikov was saying something in Russian too fast for Van Helsing to translate. All he could catch was “ax,” before the young man was darting out of the room, narrowly avoiding a swipe from the lion.

“Get back, monster!” Frankenstein was leaping forward, knife poised to drive into the creature’s chest. The lion growled and sank awkwardly down onto four legs in order to leap at its new prey.

“No!” Frankenstein was tackled by a flying Moreau and they landed in a heap on the floor. The vivisectionist struggled to his feet as he held Frankenstein down.

“It’s alright!” he said to his creation, “We can talk about this! Just stand up and come with me. Four legs bad, remember?”

The lion growled, crouching lower, “Do not… want… two legs. Want… kill… you!”

It pounced on Moreau and Frankenstein who screamed in terror as Griffin and Van Helsing both yelled in alarm.

Then the creature fell dead on the floor.

Raskolnikov had managed to bolt past Van Helsing and driven an ax into its head, killing it in an instant. Blood spattered the young Russian’s clothes and dripped onto Moreau’s pants.

The doctor stared in silent horror for a few seconds then shoved his creation off him and staggered to his feet, syringe falling from slack hands. Frankenstein followed suit, still gripping the knife like he was afraid the lion was only faking death.

Griffin set his chair down and stepped forward, “Good job, kid! Another moment and we’d all have been dead!”

Van Helsing released a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, “Yes, fortunate you found that ax in time.”

Raskolnikov didn’t seem to hear them, his gaze fixated on the blood soaking into his pants and socks. He let the ax fall from his grip, where it slowly slid from the gaping wound in the lion’s head and fell to the ground with a thud. Van Helsing frowned as he noticed the Russian had used the back side of the ax instead of the frontal blade. Then he watched as Raskolnikov reeled out of the room and into the hallway, disappearing around the corner.

Griffin shrugged, “Must not like the sight of blood.”

“I didn’t want it dead.” Moreau said quietly, drawing everyone’s attention to him, “If I could only have reached it…”

“Well, you didn’t, though I can’t say I’m not disappointed it didn’t manage to eat you.” Griffin glared, “Now get this carcass out of my room.”

Van Helsing was too tired to get caught up in another argument and trudged back to the stairs. Frankenstein was soon beside him, fingering the kitchen knife.

“You might want to put that back.” Van Helsing pointed out.

The younger man started at his voice, “Oh, yeah, I guess so…”

“It was very brave of you to confront the lion as you did.” Van Helsing added.

Frankenstein’s jaw clenched and his gaze had a far away quality to it, “If only I had before…”

He turned swiftly and disappeared back into his room before Van Helsing could ask what that meant. Sighing, the old man walked slowly back to the ground level.

“It’s safe to come in!” he called.

Gray opened the front door and came inside, the mob apparently having left, “Is it dead?”

“Yes, Rodion Romanovich killed him.”

Gray sighed in relief, “Good! Tell that vivisectionist to cut out those experiments or we’ll all be mauled to death.”

“I’ll encourage him to work on herbivorous specimens instead.”

“Great.” Gray grabbed his coat from the hanger beside the door, “Well, I’ve got a date at the theater. See you!”

The door made a resounding thud as it closed, just as the back door opened and Jekyll and Moriarty peeked inside.

“You said it’s dead?” Jekyll asked.

“Yes.”

The doctor stepped inside, Moriarty right behind him.

“I’m, uh, off to my room then.” Jekyll said. He had a pained look on his face, as if trying to hold something back. Van Helsing gestured for him to head back upstairs, realizing his other half was about to rear his head as a result of all the excitement. The doctor hurried up the stairs as fast as his flimsy legs would allow.

Moriarty nodded to Van Helsing, “I’ll be in the library should you need me.”

“We could have used you when handling the lion.” Van Helsing said a tad testily.

The criminal mastermind quirked an eyebrow, “I am not in the business of slaying brutes, professor. If you need someone to do your dirty work, I suggest you enlist another’s help. Good day.”

He marched off with all the rigid pomp he could muster, which was quite a lot. Van Helsing sighed, knowing, as master of the house, he should probably help Griffin and Moreau with the dead lion. He slowly marched back upstairs.

And I thought battling Dracula would be the most excitement I’d get in my life...

[nimwallace]

The Trial for laurusalexandercrown

It was a fogging morning in early April of 1895 when I happened upon a discovery in the paper which would change the lives of Holmes and I forever. “Holmes?” “Yes love?” “Oscar Wilde's gone to trial.” Holmes paled. We'd known the controversy of his novel, “A Picture of Dorian Gray” had done enough to stir up unwanted attention around inverts, but accusing and jailing the man? This was an entirely different scenario. This would be in the papers every day from now on, until it ended. Holmes had delighted in that book—a rare occurrence when he chose to read fiction. “It's drivel, Watson,” he had scoffed to me, but yet he read the whole thing, and I could see the proud light in his eyes when he did. “What will we do?” I asked him. “I cannot predict the future, Watson,” Holmes said somberly, crossing his hands behind his back. “But I think we should wait this out at least a bit longer.” “If you think that is right,” I said, and I meant it. The week progressed painfully. During these strenuous days, most times Sherlock and I would not dare touch in public, afraid even to link arms as we usually did. It was difficult enough for us without this foolishness going on, but it seemed now every corner we turned someone was whispering excitedly of the condemned man. The papers spoke of him like a rat, and so did everyone else. If anyone around us brought up the matter (very few did, since Mycroft, Lestrade, and Mrs Hudson were all aware of our romantic relationship) we were silent on the matter. To support him would be unspeakable. We would be reported and dragged off—another excuse for a media frenzy. Holmes remained darkly cautious. He stiffly introduced me as colleague to his clients, something which stung every time he uttered it. He walked a distance from me on the street. He referred to me publicly (even in front of the Yarders) (especially in front of the Yarders) as only “Watson” or “Doctor.” No “My Dear Watson” or “My Boy” or “Dearest Doctor.” I knew Holmes did this to protect me, yet it still felt bitter. However, it did make those times alone at night, with the comfort of a locked door and an empty flat, all the more treasured. I did not realize how I suffocated without his touch until I had it once more. Our friends, though some understanding, were not “sodomites” themselves, and therefor did not speak of or reference the relationship between Holmes and myself in anyway. Even to those who knew it was a forbidden topic, a hidden fruit buried deeply beneath aristocratic shame. “John?” Holmes said one evening, after a particularly long day. “Yes my dear?” I said, putting down the yellow-backed novel I was reading. “I am very tired,” he sighed. “And I would just like to say your name and be near you without fear. I want this more than anything.” It was rare for him to become so sentimental. I may exaggerate his coldness in my stories to protect him from the public's eyes, but I did not fabricate it. “We mustn't be so ungrateful,” I said softly, gently pressing my hand against his cheek. His skin was cold. “We are together, aren't we? That alone is more than most.” “I know,” Sherlock said, leaning into the touch. “But I miss you.” “I miss you too.”

Two weeks into the trial Holmes decided we needed to flee London. “The police are taking more action than ever,” he said when he brought up the notion to leave to me. “It will only be a matter of time until we, as public figures, will be considered suspicious.” He was right. It was three days before we were to flee to Holmes's old University town that the paper had the two of us on the front. The headline read; “Famous Detective and Doctor Under Scrutiny”. “We must leave sooner than I thought,” Holmes said darkly. So we left that evening. Sherlock had written to his old friend, Victor Trevor, asking him if he would be willing to house them until the trial was over. Trevor, being Holmes's previous (and first) lover, understood and agreed. Of course I worried about lodging with someone Holmes was once attracted to, but upon meeting Trevor my perspectives changed. He was kind and welcoming to both of us, and it seemed he and Holmes remained on friendly terms. Though, evidently, I hadn't anything to concern myself with anyway. “I assure you, you having nothing to worry about, John,” Sherlock said. “My heart belongs only to you.” I believed him.

We stayed with Trevor until May, when Wilde was finally convicted. It was a relief. We both missed London, both missed Baker Street and Mrs Hudson and cases. I had thought Sherlock would die of boredom here, but he spent his hours going on long walks, many of which I joined, to hunt for rare specimens of botany. Though we both missed home, I could see that the fresh air and easiness of the last few weeks had been good to him. He looked less gaunt and thin, and he no longer had dark bags beneath his eyes. But when we finally arrived home again, and he could link his arm in mine, then, he looked happiest.

[tothewaterhq]

ACCEPTED // DORIAN HAWTHORNE

district three mentor → victor of the 38th games →  robert downey jr. fc

positive traits: intelligent, empathetic, charismatic negative traits: impulsive, sarcastic, stubborn

describe their arena:

Hot, was the first thought crossing Dorian’s mind as he was lifted up into the Arena. The sky was clear, the sun beating down on the dry, arid desert environment. Brown sand stretched out for miles all around the Tributes, a few broken down shops and homes dotting the area surrounding The Cornucopia. At first, it didn’t appear to be much, just a very dry, very hot abandoned western-like town. Supplies were spilling from the mouth of the Cornucopia, as well as they were scattered throughout the buildings in the town, though not as plentiful as at the Cornucopia.

It wasn’t until most of the Tributes had died that the real threat was revealed: mutts. Giant worm-like creatures that burrowed underground, only to emerge if one unfortunate soul stepped directly on the ground. They were fast, digging rapidly to catch their prey and drag them down into the tunnels to be ripped to shreds, or swallowed whole. This drove the remaining Tributes to climb onto the rooftops of the buildings, only for them to collapse too easily and draw in the attention of the mutts. The only sturdy structure was the Cornucopia.

Being resourceful as he was, Dorian killed the Tributes he had to kill from a distance, using traps he and his District partner, Lucretia, strung together to destroy the threat and keep himself alive. But on top of the Cornucopia, the last couple of kills he was forced to do were up close and personal. Too much so for his liking.

biography:

Dorian Hawthorne was born in District Three to a loving mother and distant father. Any time he had tried to gain approval from his father, Dorian received none, or was easily disregarded. But it did nothing to dishearten him too terribly; Dorian still excelled in his school work, showing plenty of promise and potential. Growing up, Dorian had a very close friend, Lucretia Morrow. She had been like an extended family to him; he was very close to her. They both shared quite a bit with each other, especially their distaste for the Hunger Games. But any sort of revolt against The Capitol resulted in death. So all they could do was move on with their lives and hope for the best… until life dealt a cruel hand and Dorian was Reaped for the Games himself. What made it most cruel was the fact that Lucretia was his District partner.

Immediately the two developed an alliance, training together and plotting a strategy to get as far as they could, or to at least help send each other home. Dorian hated having to put on a smile and play up the crowds, pretending to soak in his fifteen minutes of fame and appeal to the people of The Capitol. They were fighting for their lives, it felt so strange and wrong to be getting dressed up in their best and putting on a show to be spared. But he grinned and bared it, using his sharp wit and charisma to try and win over the crowd. But a boy from District Three had a lot of things to prove against the kids in the Career Pack. Dorian and Lu’s Arena was an abandoned town in a desert, not leaving many places to hide from any threats. But it left them supplies for traps to be set for any threats that came their way. The two together had set up a few traps within the town, carefully collecting supplies they needed to rig it for the Career Pack, which had formed their alliance from day one. Dorian and Lu had avoided other Tributes when they could, not wanting to kill anyone else and focused on surviving and getting their traps done. If killing a tribute or two was essential to their own survival, then they didn’t hesitate, but there was no pride in the deed. But they didn’t have a choice if they wanted to try to get the other back home.

When they had gone out to find more supplies, the Career Pack had managed to find them. They had tried to flee from the Careers, but Lu wasn’t as fast as Dorian and had been caught by the Careers. Realizing they were within range of the trap they had been working on, Lu pleaded with Dorian to activate the trap. It was their only chance to win, especially with most of the pack in the trap already, but Lu was still within range. She would have definitely been caught in the blast if he activated the trap now. Still, when would they get another advantage in The Games like this? And even if he hadn’t set the trap off, the Careers would have killed Lu, anyway. Reluctantly, Dorian set off the trap. A large explosion resounded through the Arena, the remains of most of the Career Pack– and Lu– scattered within the rubble. Dorian’s ears were ringing when the canons went off, but when his hearing finally returned, he found that he had run his voice ragged from his own screaming.

The explosion had also awoken the finale of the Games: large, carnivorous worms that dug through the rubble as smooth as though they were fish swimming through water. And they were out for blood. Dorian and two of the remaining Careers managed to scramble on top of the Cornucopia. In the struggle, Dorian had gotten a knife to the shoulder and nearly shoved from the Cornucopia. Dorian gripped the wrist of the District One girl’s hand holding the knife, spinning himself around to throw her from the top of the Cornucopia. Her screams had been abruptly cut off, her body disappearing in a flurry of sand and dirt as soon as she hit the ground. The boy from Two rushed for him then, tackling Dorian right at the edge of the Cornucopia. Blood poured from the wound to his shoulder, the pain screaming in protest to his struggles, but he couldn’t die. Not when he got this far. Bringing his feet up, he kicked the District Two boy from above him, throwing him from the Cornucopia to the worms below.

Dorian had been crowned Victor of the 38th Hunger Games, but he definitely didn’t feel like one. The riches and fame he received so abruptly with his victory felt undeserved, wrong. He hated the parties, loathed the Victory Tour and the words he had to read from the cards. Having to look the families of the dead– grieving parents and siblings that had lost their brother or sister– and tell them that their deaths were noble and necessary for the power and glory of The Capitol. Not to mention the nightmares that plagued him every night. They always seemed to trace back to Lu, yelling at him to set off the trap and watching her become engulfed in flames and desolation. He still couldn’t wash the blood from his hands, even after the Victory Tour.

Dorian drowned the guilt in heavy amounts of alcohol, only barely maintaining sobriety when he had to be a mentor for next year’s Tributes. He loathed watching The Games, having to watch kids die over and over again, bringing him back to his own Games. It didn’t help that he grew attached to his Tributes, empathetic to their situation and doing his best to give them advice and help them survive their Games. But the cycle never stopped, it just continued, rinse and repeat, every single year. And Dorian loathed it, especially having to keep his mouth shut about his hatred for it. But he put on his best smile for the cameras and did his part as Victor and Mentor, all the while reeling from self loathing for playing along with the facade he so hated his whole life.

PLAYED BY // KAT 

[dimensionhoppingrose]

Just Like A Dream || Oneshot

Title: Just Like A Dream Rating: K Pairing: Vanessa/Lily Summary: Immortality was cruel sometimes. Reincarnation was just salt on the wound. 

Note: For @travelingrose, on the beautiful occasion of the anniversary of your birth! I know I missed it in your timezone -- I’m barely getting in under the wire in my own timezone -- and I’m very sorry for that, but I do hope you enjoy it!

(Unbeta-ed because I want to get this done before it’s not even your birthday in my timezone anymore I’m sorry)

There was one thing no one could have prepared Lily for in her immortal life — reincarnation. She suspected Dorian hadn’t been aware of it, considering how little care he actually gave for the people who came in and out of his life.

Lily noticed, however. Lily saw the familiar faces of people she had known in another life. She never spoke to them, or even got near them. She had learned from her mistakes. She wouldn’t make them again.

The biggest shock had been finding Ethan again, about eighty years after the last time she had seen him. She’d run in the other direction. It was the first time since in years she had been properly scared.

London grew, however, and with that, the chances she would ever meet anyone she had known shrunk. She preferred it that way. She just wanted to live in peace.

“Oh! Sorry!”

Lily had been walking into the elevator, not quite paying attention as she dug through her purse for her keys, when she walked smack-dab into someone. She looked up to see who she’d nearly run over…

And her mouth dropped.

“It’s alright,” the raven-haired woman said brightly, smiling.

“Brona, Miss Vanessa Ives.”

“How do you do, Miss Croft? “

“Ma'am.”

“So lovely to meet you at last.”

*******

“May I present Miss Lily Frankenstein.”

“Such a pleasure, miss.”

“Your cousin has told me so much.”

“How do you do, Miss Ives?”

The woman tilted her head, smile faltering to a look of concern. “Are you alright?” She asked, and Lily shook her head to clear her mind of the fog that had filled it.

“Yes! Sorry, yes.” It was the first time Lily had actually spoken to one of them. She had no idea what to say. The woman smiled again and headed out of the elevator, toward the street. Lily had seen a moving truck when she’d come in. It must have been her. Lily had been living in this building for three years, she would have noticed if the reincarnation of Vanessa Ives were also living there.

Lily didn’t bother taking the elevator — she didn’t want to take the risk of running into that woman again. Instead she sprang for the stairs, running up ten flights. She was out of breath by the time she got to her apartment, and there was a sharp pain in her side, but it was a welcome distraction. She let herself into her apartment with shaking hands, threw her purse into the living room chair and grabbed her laptop.

It was time to move. Maybe she’d actually buy a house. She had more than enough money to do so, she just enjoyed having an apartment more. It made her feel more involved in the world and less like Dorian, hiding in his mansion and watching the world go by like he thought he was better than it. That wasn’t the kind of life Lily wanted.

But maybe it would be good for her to escape the world for a few years.

You’re being ridiculous, a small, slightly Irish voice in the back of her head whispered. Her common sense always sounded more like Brona. She paused, hands shaking slightly as she stared at the realtor site she had pulled up. She really liked her apartment — it was a nice building, in a nice part of the city. She had spent nearly a year decorating it just the way she liked it. She didn’t really want to leave.

Besides, what were the chances she’d run into Vanessa Ives again? She almost never encountered her neighbors. Lily slowly closed her laptop, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. It would be fine. Everything would be fine.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Lily hated thunder.

She had never faked that fear. She wasn’t entirely sure why she hated thunderstorms so much. She suspected it had something to do with the way Victor had brought her back, but the memories of those early days were hazy.

She hated storms, though. She jumped every time the lightning flashed and every time thunder boomed. She usually curled up in the corner of her couch and just waited for it to pass with every single light turned on.

Which was exactly what she was doing now, as she watched the storm roll through. A particularly loud clap of thunder crashed through the air, and Lily jumped, squeezing her eyes shut. When she opened them again, all her lights were off. “Bloody hell,” she mumbled, stumbling off the couch to go and find her flashlight. She wasn’t sitting in the dark until this storm passed.

A knock at the door distracted her, and she looked around, surprised. People didn’t usually knock on her door. She hesitated before going to open it…

And there was Vanessa. “Hello,” she said with a small smile. “I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have an extra flashlight by any chance? Mine’s still packed somewhere.”

“Oh. Um…” Lily had known the woman had moved in across the hall. She had gone out of her way to avoid her since she had found out, even going as far as checking through the peephole before she left her apartment. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. Here, come in.”

“Thanks.” She stepped in, and Lily closed the door, grabbing her phone so she could navigate to the kitchen without hurting herself. “I’m Vanessa, by the way.”

Of course she was. “I’m Lily. Nice to meet you.”

She dug through her kitchen drawers, trying to find the flashlights she knew were there. “Lily,” Vanessa repeated. “That’s a pretty name.”

Lily blinked, momentarily distracted. “Um, yeah, I suppose,” she murmured, finally finding a flashlight and turning it on. She used it to search her cabinets to try and find the other one. Another clap of thunder boomed overhead and she jumped, the flashlight slipping from her hand.

“Are you okay?” Vanessa called. Lily was shaking as she stooped down to pick the flashlight up.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

She finally found the second flashlight and brought it out to Vanessa, who tilted her head a bit. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m—”

Right on cue, there was another crack of thunder, this one right over head, and Lily jumped. “Scared of thunder?” Vanessa asked, and Lily could hear the sympathy in her tone.

“I’m fine.”

Vannessa was quiet for a moment, looking Lily up and down. “You know,” she said after a moment, “my apartment is still mostly boxes. I don’t think I want to go back there in the dark. I’d probably trip and break my neck. Do you think I could stay here?”

Lily was so tempted to say no. She didn’t want sympathy for her irrational fear. But Vanessa had framed it in a way that made it seem like it was more of a favor to her, and no matter how much Lily knew that wasn’t the case, she would have felt bad turning Vanessa away. It was vaguely manipulative.

Lily was impressed.

“Alright. Sure.”

Vanessa beamed, and they sat down on the couch, keeping both flashlights on to illuminate the living room as much as possible. “So how long have you lived here?” Vanessa asked. Obvious small talk.

Still, Lily indulged. It was nice to have company for once. “About three years. I was living in Ireland before that.”

“Ooooooh, really? What was that like?”

“It was nice. I was living in Belfast.” Ireland, much like the rest of the world, had grown in leaps and bounds since the eighteen-hundreds. But it was still beautiful, and Lily still felt a deep sense of nostalgia every time she was there. It was even nicer now that everyone she had once known and been afraid of was long dead.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Ireland but I’ve never had the chance.” Vanessa sighed wistfully. “Let me know if you go back any time soon, I’ll hide in your suitcase.”

Lily couldn’t stop herself from smiling just a bit.

They broke out the wine, and before long Vanessa was blissfully buzzed. It took a little more for Lily to get drunk, unfortunately. But watching Vanessa was fun. She was currently trying to tell a story that Lily supposed was funny, considering she kept interrupting herself to giggle every few seconds.

“Wait,” she finally said, blinking a bit. “What was I saying?”

Lily laughed. “I honestly can’t say I know.” The wine was almost gone. Lily was pretty sure Vanessa had drank most of it.

“Hmmmm. That’s a shame. It sounds like it was funny.” She went to grab the bottle, frowning when she saw it was empty. “Oh no. It’s all gone.”

“I’ll get more,” Lily assured her, standing. She was a bit surprised when the lights turned back on. The worst of the storm had passed. And for once, Lily hadn’t even noticed it.

“Oh.” Vanessa looked up at the lights, surprised. “I guess I should go home, then.”

Lily hesitated. She didn’t want Vanessa to go home. This was the first time in a long time she had felt genuinely good and connected with anyone. As much as she didn’t want to become like Dorian, she had to admit he had a point about not letting people get too close. It had become tiring after a while, burying friends and lovers over and over..

“Might be best,” she said, a bit regretfully. She could tell Vanessa had been hoping for a different answer; it was with an air of disappointment that she allowed Lily to walk her to the door.

“Thanks for letting me stay.”

“Of course. Any time.”

They paused at the door, and after a moment of serious concentration Vanessa grabbed Lily’s shirt and dragged her closer, pressing a firm kiss against her lips.

Oh.

Vanessa was smiling a bit as she pulled away, letting Lily go. “See you around,” she said, just a little smug, before leaving. Lily watched her let herself into her apartment, blinking rapidly.

Well. Okay then.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Lily wasn’t really surprised when there was a knock at her door the next morning. She opened the door to a very sheepish Vanessa.

“So… I’m sorry about last night.”

“Are you? That’s a shame.”

Vanessa instantly lightened up a bit. “Oh, well I’m not sorry if you liked it. I just distinctly recall you not being that into it. Or is the alcohol making my memory fuzzy?”

“You… surprised me.” That was putting it lightly. Lily certainly hadn’t been expecting a pretty woman to try and snog her.

“Well, I’d be happy to repeat if you’re ever feeling a little more prepared.”

If Lily didn’t know any better, she’d say Vanessa was trying to flirt with her. But that was just mad. Right?

“You could at least buy me dinner first.”

Vanessa beamed. “What’re you doing Friday?”

Lily had walked right into that one.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Well this is a fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into, isn’t it?

LIly sighed, rolling over to stare at the wall. It had been a month, she had been on several dates with Vanessa… and she was fairly certain she was in love. She hadn’t felt this way about anyone since Ethan Chandler, a hundred years and another lifetime ago. She hadn’t thought it was possible for her to feel this way.

Yet here she was.

Vanessa stirred, rolling in her sleep to cuddle against Lily. She was extremely tactile. Lily couldn’t say she hated it. It was nice, even. It had been a while since she’d had this much contact with another human, and now she was getting it in spades.

And she had no idea what to do.

“You’re tense,” Vanessa mumbled into Lily’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Lily let out a long breath, squeezing her eyes shut. She didn’t know what to say. She couldn’t exactly explain her situation, or any of her issues, to Vanessa. At least not without driving her away.

Although maybe it would be best that way.

Vanessa sleepily brushed a hand through Lily’s hair, snuggling closer to her. “I know you have a lot of secrets.” That surprised Lily. “You always look so sad when you think I’m not looking. It’s okay, though. You don’t have to hide it. If you want to be sad you can let me see it. If you want to tell me your secrets, you can. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you can.”

Lily hesitated before rolling over and cupping Vanessa’s face, pressing her lips to Vanessa’s. There would be time for worries and sadness and secrets later.

Right now she just wanted to enjoy the time she had with Vanessa. It would end far too soon.

[goblin-gardens]

Survival Skills 101

KT requested more Emeline over on the Team AU Patreon, so here’s a followup to this little ficlet from a while ago!

(you can read both of them at once over on Ao3)

Emeline stands in the center of Dorian’s laboratory with her hands on her hips. Victor, deadly mouser, unrepentant vandal, reanimated feline, flicks his ears at her, unconcerned. The corpse of a small nug lies on top of her notes.

“Is this your idea of a gift?” she asks him. His tail flips against the side of the desk. “You’re proud of yourself, aren’t you? Killing my experiment.”

They stare at each other across the lab. Her desk is on a raised platform in the back of the room, he’s sitting atop her stack of books on herbalism. She’s just come through the door, but she knows his game.

Emeline takes a step forward, and Victor hops off the desk, vanishing through the open window in the wall above it. She sighs and goes to close it. Her shoes tap on the sterile white floor.

From a closet she takes out two coats and two pairs of thin leather gloves, all freshly laundered and charmed to repel any magical mishaps. She dons her own set and leaves the others on Dorian’s chair. He’ll get there soon enough, she knows, but one time he was in such a hurry to check on the dragonthorn dissolution that he forgot the gloves and nearly seared his fingerprints off. She does worry about him sometimes.

She spends more time in the lab than he does, lately. It’s a discrete building at the back of the garden, heavily warded and spelled at all times. She’d thought it was a toolshed the first few times she’d bothered to glance at it, but now it’s her second favorite place in their little corner of Orlais. First is, and will always be, the library here. It takes up most of the second floor of Dorian and Bull’s little house, and they’ve managed to cram nearly as many books in there as are kept in the petit salon de libre in Emaline’s first Circle. Seeing as she’d chosen to go there because of the wealth of academic knowledge inside the walls, it was a formidable accomplishment.

The nug is a specimen from the woods, and catching it the first time had been its own lesson-- woodscraft, specifically, with some of Bull’s old company. Emeline had failed that test miserably. She’d learned the game trails, set the snare… and been unable to kill the squirmy little thing. Skinner had thrown up her hands and stalked away, muttering under her breath. Dorian had decided that the nug would factor into his lessons.

“The thing about necromancy-- real, lasting reanimation,” he’d finally said, three years after she came to him for teaching, “is that you have to want the thing to be alive.”

Emeline had nodded and glared fiercely at Dalish, who was the only other person there and therefore a stand-in for anyone who wanted to hurt the nug.

“It is important to be able to hunt for yourself,” Dalish said placatingly. “Think of it as self defense! Defending against starving to death.”

“I can hunt edible mushrooms,” Emeline muttered, “I know what those look like and I don’t have to kill them.”

“Name it mushroom then,” Dalish said brightly. “Problem solved.”

The name, despite Emeline’s protests, had stuck. Champignon was integrated into the household, and given a bed near her desk in the laboratory. A crate that had arrived full of books and glass vials from Serault was repurposed into a little cave for him to hide in. He liked to be picked up and would sit on her shoulders when her hands were full.

This is his third death. Two now were death by Victor, once by eating crushed deathroot-- that had been an unpleasant lesson in labeling and laboratory procedures.

The older Champignon gets, the harder it is to coax his spirit back into his body. Eventually, Emeline knows, she’ll have to start practicing the containment and conservation spells that Dorian’s worked into his animals.

She sighs and picks up the little nug, focusing her magic on the wounds that Victor left. She works more quickly than last time, more familiar with the anatomy and muscles and veins. With the injury mended, she reaches out and finds his spirit wandering among the dried herbs hanging from the ceiling.

He’s reluctant at first. She could order him, of course overpower his small rodent will with her own. But she treats him how she does when his consciousness is still in his body: she strokes behind his ears and pulls out a few dawn lotus seeds, his favorite treat. Ethereal whiskers twitching, Champignon investigates her offering.

She murmurs nonsense to him in Orlesian, rhymes her mother sang when she was scared, and gently binds his spirit back into himself.

It’s not an entirely dispassionate affair. When Champignon finally squeaks and twitches his mortal nose, Emeline presses her face into his soft side. He snuffles curiously at her hair.

“Well done.” She turns, Champignon clutched to her chest. Dorian’s standing in the doorway, arms folded.

He’s not stingy with his praise, preferring to encourage rather than berate, but Emeline can always tell when he’s truly impressed with her.

“May I see him?” She relinquishes her newly-restored pet a bit reluctantly. “Yes, excellent. Not a squirrel this time.”

She blushes. “They look the same, when they’re spirits!”

Dorian tickles Champignon under the chin and the nug squeaks happily. “Tell that to the poor thing when it tried to climb the table. You must have scared it half past death.”

“You are not so funny as you think, Monsieur Pavus.” She goes to Champignon’s nest to make sure his food and water bowls are full.

Dorian follows her, grinning. “Have I offended, mademoiselle? Perhaps I shall remove my noxious self from your presence. Leave you to your chores in peace.”

“Straining embrium extract takes four hands, as you well know.”

“You’re a necromancer, aren’t you? Magic up a corpse or two to help!”

She takes Champignon from Dorian and replaces him with a bowl and an armful of cheesecloth. “Go to Pavus, they told me. He’s a good teacher, they said. I shall tell everyone that you’re losing your hair if you don’t put your gloves on and help me now!”

“Mercy!” Dorian laughs. “I submit.”

He ties on his apron and joins Emeline at the sink. “Shall we review the life of Adralla while we work, and the litany as well? I’ve always thought embrium just the right sort of scent for a morning of memorization and thwarting blood mages.”

She rolls her eyes and summons a whisp for light. “Just try not to drop any glass this time. I have much more experience healing nugs than humans.”

“And may you always.” He wraps an arm briefly around her shoulder and tugs her close. “You’re doing well, have I told you that?”

“I won’t stop you from saying it again.” She smirks at him, and he’s already smiling back.

“As long as you know that,” he says, and nods firmly. “Now, can you tell me why the Litany of Adralla is typically recited by rote and rarely written down?”