#also the followers at the bottom are from my current save that ive been doing on twitch <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[h0nkshroom]

silly doodles i did for AU things....

[thatlexplays]

Friday the 13th: Ranked

She's on Tumblr again? LONG POSTING? What is this, 2012?

Hi Tumblr. It's been a bit. But I decided it was the best place to talk unhinged shit that wouldn't make sense on other sites, so here we go again I guess. Last time I was here, I was straight. Now I'm uh...not.

ANYWAYS. Today's Friday the 13th, and it just so happens to also be OCTOBER (aka Halloween season). So y'know. Extra spooky.

I feel like there's only one REAL way to celebrate this day. To talk about the slasher of Camp Crystal Lake himself, Jason Vorhees.

I've had a fascination for horror movies since my edgy years from late 2009 through...honestly most of high school (I wore fingerless bike gloves to school every day--I didn't bike to school. I was CRINJ CITY). I remember watching the major slashers like Friday the 13th and Nightmare on Elm Street, one of my most cringe moments was making a YouTube video about the 2010 reboot of Nightmare on Elm Street and talking about how good it was (15 year old me, for the record, was an idiot).

I know for a fact that I remember watching the original Friday and Friday Part 2. But I'd never seen the other TEN films in the franchise. So earlier this year, I got together with a friend and over the course of a few weekends...

We watched every Friday the 13th film that currently exists (as of posting) and ranked them.

Our Rating System

This was our first time doing a ranking for horror, so we didn't come up with a fun system at the first go around, save for an exception.

For the purposes of consistency of our lists, we're going to use the following rating system: Actually Good. These are the movies that are actually genuinely good watches, with fun characters, good writing, and good sequences. These are the best of the best.

Fun Time 🎉. The movies in this category might not be amazing, but they are still a fun time and are still pretty good watches for the type of horror we're watching.

A Movie™️ . These movies range from almost fun to not boring or bad enough to be lower on the list. We'll explain these as we go.

Why? 🤷. There are movies that take things into confusing territories and make things more convoluted for one reason or another. If it makes us say "Why?" then it's here. No 🙅. These are the worst ones--reasoning will explain.

Caveats

I think it's important to note that while my friend and I love watching horror, we don't think the Friday the 13th franchise is particularly scary. But we were interested becuase the 80s slashers are known to be just fun, and that entices me more than anything. So while these aren't scary when you compare them to modern horror like Barbarian, we were looking for fun times.

Also, should go without saying, but these are subjective opinions.

So with that out of the way...let's do this in order from top to bottom.

Actually Good

Jason Lives! Friday the 13th Part VI

If you watch any of the Friday the 13th movies, make it this one. Part VI is not just a solid slasher movie with great production values, but it's also just a good movie in general.

Tommy Jarvis and Megan are the best duo protagonists we have, with great chemistry. The group of teens we have here are also just fun to watch. People are mostly likelable!

Also the guy who went on to be the voice for Disney's TARZAN is in this movie. Neat.

There's also a ton of great references to other Horror Media because Director Tom McGloughlin is a damn nerd and we LOVE IT. Watch the Dead Meat Kill Count on these. Ya learn a lot.

Friday the 13th Part II

So when it comes to the original canon (aka up through Part IV), this film is the strongest out of all of them. Mostly because of the fact that even though Jason Vorhees doesn't have his iconic hockey mask (which he gets in Part III), the film has straight up the best group of camp counselors/teens in the whole franchise. They're fleshed out more, more sympathetic, and it's just fun.

The only real reason this doesn't top the list is that Part VI is just a better movie overall. There are some weird shot choices, and the cold open is weird and has no pacing.

A Fun Time 🎉

Jason X

Ok, so hear me out. I know the conceit of this movie is WEIRD. It's literally Jason in SPACE. This should be ridicously bad, right?

It's absolutely wild, but the thing about this movie is that it FULLY commits to the crazy concept and it honestly just works. It truly has no right to be as good as it is.

It's not a masterpiece, and it's still objectively wild, but it's a good time.

Friday the 13th (the Original)

It feels weird that the original Friday the 13th movie is in this team, but while this movie is still very good, and still a fun time with great iconic kills; it's still a little anticlimatic and the other films have stronger thru-lines.

Still a good movie, and one that I'd argue that you should still watch because it's the original and iconic, but it's not the best one.

Friday the 13th (2009 Reboot)

So I remember as an edgy teen harping on this movie for being bad (had I seen it? No. Did it matter? Also no). But this is actually a VERY strong reboot. While it doesn't entirely meet the bar of the other movies thus far, it's a fun time that does act as a "best of" of the early films in the franchise.

The characters are also kinda fun.

A Movie™️

Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter (Part IV)

This is the technically the end of the main story arc of Jason Vorhees--he does die here. Every movie from this point on has a Zombified Jason.

Part IV is higher than the other movies on this list mostly because of the kills themselves--someone gets stabbed while they're holding a banana -- it's wild.

Everything else is kinda meh. Most of the characters here are kinda sleezy and high key horny af, and they're all kind sex pest energy. They kind of suck.

Friday the 13th Part IV: A New Beginning

So Jason isn't in this movie, at all. There's someone else imitating Jason

It's aggressively sleezy and almost pornographic, which isn't

The one main positive this movie has is that it has some very solid characters that very much feel more interesting than most of the characters in the franchise. The kills aren't as good as Part IV, but it's still fun.

Freddy vs. Jason

So I was expecting this movie to be a lot better than it was (for what its worth, it's one of the better Nightmare on Elm Street Movies). It's fine. Not overly worth writing home about per se.

Friday the 13th Part III

So this is an important film that brings us the iconic hockey mask and was also in 3D (because we love gimmicks). Unfortunately, this movie recycles a few kills and the characters are way more one dimensional, and annoying, and there's also some fun problematic racism thrown in.

Why? 🤷

Friday the 13th Part VII: The New Blood

This was one of the first movies in the Friday the 13th franchise that BAFFLED me and my friend when watching. According to Dead Meat, they tried to reach out to New Line about doing someting with Nightmare on Elm Street; they refused. So they went, "Ok but what if Jason vs. Carrie White? This slasher franchise needs telekinesis."

Part VII tries to be both a Friday the 13th film and a Carrie film at the same time. It fails at being good versions of both. The teens are forgettable; the telekenetic plotline is interesting but that's kinda not really the point of Friday the 13th, so it's just baffling.

Jason Goes to Hell: The Final Friday (Part IX)

Woof. This one is real rough.

This was a movie we kept pausing to see how long we had so we can say "We have NO IDEA WHAT IS HAPPENING".

The movie tries to streamline things but make things more complicated.

The effects are cool, the kills are ok, and the characters are fine. But the structure is bad.

No 🙅

Friday the 13th Part VIII: Jason Takes Manhattan

Out of all of the Friday movies, this one is straight up bad. All of the characters are terrible and have no redeeming qualities. Half the movie doesn't take place in Manhattan, and once there, there's also a fun scene that's essentially SA and it's straight up upsetting. When you manage to make Jason look like a good guy, you know you've got a bad movie.

Final Thoughts

I'll go on record and say that Friday the 13th has more good movies than bad ones in my opinion. You don't watch these movies to be scared, you watch them to have a good time.

So go have fun and watch these movies!

[diadraws]

what program do you use to do animations? ive been wanting to get into it but im not sure how and i know you draw in photoshop which i do too. thanks!!!

it really depends!! for longer stuff, i use adobe animate, just because photoshop tends to start chugging if i do animations longer than like, 20-ish frames. I do all the compositing and tweening for my animation memes in animate as well.

in addition to roughing frame-by frame stuff for my animation memes, (such as tirona's dance for the fortnite one haha) i like to do sketching/doodly animations, like this lil kitty, in photoshop, since it feels most organic drawing-wise to me. BUT, photoshop animation is a bit tricky, and deff opaque to anyone whos never done it before. heres a basic guide, under a cut cuz it got long LOL

create a new canvas. you can do whatever resolution you want but keep in mind, larger canvases will lag more. i do 1920x1080. if you select window>timeline, a new menu will pop up at the bottom of the photoshop interface

you'll notice a dropdown menu, that has two options: "create video timeline" and "create frame animation". i use create frame animation , just because it's more fitting for what i do.

selecting that option will give you a timeline with frames and everything! each frame's delay can be chosen individually. during playback in photoshop, it will play a little slower than the actual speed when exported as a gif, so keep that in mind

i would advise you to think of layers (or layer groups, if you plan on cleaning up and coloring) as frames for this. a layer's position, visibility, and style can change from frame to frame.

pay attention to these following options, they will appear over your layers menu on the far right once you create an animation timeline.

Unify: can be applied to position, visibility, and layer effects. it will change all the other frames to match what the layer is like in your currently selected frame.

Propogate frame 1: if this box is checked, any position, style, or visibility changes made to a layer on frame 1 will be applied to all the frames. unchecking it disables this.

editing a layer with the eraser or brush (or any other tool) will apply the changes to every single frame. so to create the next pose, you will have to go to the next frame, hide the first layer, and draw the next pose on a new layer. I've colored the layers in 2 different colors here for clarity.

the blue is layer 1, and the red is layer 2. on the first frame, i will make layer 2 (the red pose) invisible and leave layer 1 (the blue pose) visible, and then on the second frame i do the reverse. You kind of have to do this manually for every single frame, so it gets a bit arduous if you have more than like 7 or 8 poses.

AND, exporting as a gif is also ridiculously silly and opaque too. go to file > export > save for web (legacy)

that will bring up this menu that is super complicated. the only stuff you really need to pay attention to is near the bottom, as everything else will work just fine on default settings (i've never messed with them in the 9-10 years ive been animating in photoshop, lol)

down towards the bottom you can change the export size, which is useful if you drew it on a big canvas but dont want the gif file to be enormous. also, you can choose how many times it loops. i usually just keep it on "forever", so i can watch it over and over again lol

and finally, make sure you click "save" and NOT "done". if you click done.. it does not export the file. i will not tell u how many times ive been in speed mode and click "done" and then get frustrated when the file dosnt appear in my folder. i am not smart.

anyways hopefully this is helpful.. ive been using ps so long i have extreme tunnel vision re: mentally filtering out all the useless extra stuff in photoshop's interface so i have no idea if this is confusing or not to someone who's never done it before. if you have more questions just let me know!!

[snelbz]

Lost Time {15}

A/N: As always, co-written with my better half, @tacmc​.

Elain awoke to steady beeping and dim light. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, for her memories of the day to be recollected.

Lucien had come to her work.

They fought.

He left.

She didn’t remember anything after that. 

Now, she was hooked up to a heart monitor, a blood pressure band around her arm, and IV just below it. The night sky sparkled outside of the window, and she found herself wondering how long she’d been out. She looked around, thankful to find that she wasn’t alone. 

Azriel was asleep in a chair, his chin propped on his fist, his mouth hanging wide open. His feet were propped up on a rolling stool, one ankle crossed over the other.

As if sensing her eyes on him, he stirred and his eyes opened. He was up before she ever had a chance to try and speak, cradling her face.

“It’s okay,” he breathed, “I’m right here, Lainey. I’m right here.”

Voice a rasp, she asked, “What happened?”

He chuckled, but tears were filling his eyes. “I was really hoping you could tell us that. You went into shock.”

She blinked.

Her ring. Lucien had pawned her ring.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. That ring was the most beautiful thing he’d ever given her, before she’d had Novan, but she couldn’t tell him it was gone. Better for him to assume it’d been gone for years.

“Lucien came by with some of my stuff,” she said, not a lie, but also not the full truth. “We just...got into it.”

Azriel tensed. “Got into it?”

“We fought,” she said, and he frowned.

She was fully aware by the look in his eye that he wanted an answer that held a little more of an explanation, but he didn’t push, whether it was because of her current state or because he didn’t feel it was his business, she didn’t know. She was grateful for it, though, whatever it was, because it meant she didn’t have to go into her and Lucien’s fight. “Water?”

He was instantly up on his feet, going to fill up a little paper cup with water. She was reaching out for it, but he never took his hand off of it as it touched her lips.

She tried speaking again. “Where is Donovan?”

“He’s at my mom’s,” he said, shaking his head.

She laughed softly. “Silly of me to ask.”

Azriel smiled and said, “I wondered why you didn’t just assume,” and pressed a kiss to her forehead. She smiled softly but he tilted her chin towards him when she tried to look away. “Are you okay?”

She nodded. “I am, I just-.” A shuddering breath. “I learned something unexpected today and it just was...tough to process. I’m okay, I promise.”

Elain leaned forward and softly pressed her lips against his. When she pulled away, he looked uncertain. “Elain-.”

“Please don’t ask questions,” she whispered. “We can talk about it later, okay?” 

He nodded, slowly, and kissed her, once again to save him from asking any more questions. A nurse came in, smiling brightly once she saw Elain awake.

“Hello, my dear!” she said, closing the door behind her. “I’m glad to find you sitting up. How are you feeling?”

“Weak,” she admitted.

The nurse nodded. “Well, that’s to be expected. Keep resting, try to sleep a little more. While you’re awake, I’d like to take a few samples so we can run some tests, make sure there are no other underlying reasons as to why you fainted.”

Elain nodded, nibbling on her bottom lip. “That’s fine.” She rolled up her sleeve and held out her arm, turning to Azriel. “What time is it?”

He yawned, glancing at his watch. “Just a bit before four.”

“Four?” She repeated, looking from him to the nurse currently prepping her. “I’ve been out for…” she paused and did some mental math. “Nearly seventeen hours?”

“You hit your head when you fell,” she explained.

It was then that Elain realized that, yes, she did have a pretty solid headache, and she reached up to touch her forehead. There was a band of gauze wrapped around her forehead.

“It’s not bad,” Azriel whispered. “You hit a corner of one of the tables on the way down, though.”

Elain hesitated. “I have stitches?”

“Only a few,” the nurse said. “You should be able to get them out next week.”

Elain nodded, slowly, letting all the little details register fully. 

“I’m going to take these samples back,” the nurse said, holding up three little vials of blood - Azriel had to look away. “There’s a cup for a urine sample in the bathroom. Do it when you can, then let me know. I’ll come back soon to check your vitals.”

Elain smiled. “Thank you.”

The nurse smiled in return before hurrying off.

Azriel was looking at her. She was looking anywhere but him, because she knew he wouldn’t let this go. She breathed, “Az…”

“I need you to tell me what happened today, Elain,” he said, voice hard.

She shook her head. “It was nothing, Az, he was lashing out because he was hurt. And I- I reacted. He was trying to get a rise out of me and it worked.”

His hazel eyes were hard. “Did he touch you?”

“What?” Her eyes widened, shocked that he’d even assume that.

“Did he hurt you?” He asked, standing up and beginning to pace. “Did he come onto you? Did he say something rude? What happened, Elain?”

She couldn’t tell him about the ring, but she also couldn’t handle him being mad at her.

“I-.” She hesitated, a thousand different lies running through her mind. “Yes, he came onto me, told me I was making a big mistake, and I got pissed. But, no, he didn’t touch me, and he left, Az. Okay? Drop it, please.”

The way his jaw locked told Elain he definitely was not going to drop it. “I’ve got to go.”

He had only taken one step before Elain said, “No, you will stay here with me, and if you leave me here to find Lucien at four in the morning, I will never forgive you.”

Azriel froze, but he didn’t like that response. “He can’t treat you like that.”

“He left when I asked him to,” she said. “He said his piece, we screamed at each other, he tried to tell me he knew what was best for me, I told him to get out and he left. I passed out after he left.”

He had turned back to her. “Right after he left?”

She shook her head. “Not immediately after, maybe a minute or so. I remember calling you, telling you to hurry and then...nothing.”

“Nothing?” He asked.

Closing her eyes, she repeated, “Nothing.”

Azriel took a deep breath and sighed, walking back towards the bed and pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek, careful of the tender spot above her brow. “Okay.”

After calming down, Elain did as the nurse he instructed and filled and left the sample cup in the bathroom. They called her back and checked her vitals, seeing that everything was reading mostly normal, save for an increased heart rate. Once they received her tests back, she’d be allowed to go home, but until then, they wanted her to try and rest.

It took very little convincing for Azriel to climb up in the uncomfortable hospital bed with Elain, to let her lay her head on his chest, tucking her in close. She drifted off to sleep almost immediately, the meds knocking her out cold, but Azriel laid there, his cheek pressed against the top of her head as he watched the sun come up.

He wasn’t going to push her. He wouldn’t press her. He’d let her come to him with whatever took place with Lucien today, but he knew she’d lied to him, at least about one thing.

She hadn’t passed out after she called him.

No, she’d made one more phone call before that, after they’d spoken.

He knew who it had been with. He just didn’t know what it had been about.

————————————————————————

Azriel sat at his mother’s kitchen table and stared at the sheet of paper in his hand, declaring that his paternity test concluded that he was, in fact, Donovan’s father. Rhysand had brought it to him an hour before, and Azriel had hardly taken his eyes off of it. He was going to be added to Novan’s birth certificate. It was becoming official.

He couldn’t help the tears that lined his eyes. 

“Everyone’s coming over for dinner,” Miryam said, stepping into the kitchen. “We’re going to celebrate. It’s a good day.”

Azriel nodded, hearing Novan’s laughter from the living room, where he was relaxing on the couch with Elain, watching a movie. He cleared his throat, “When will they be showing up?”

“Soon,” Miryam said, smiling fondly. “You’re crying.” 

He looked up at her, smiling broadly. “I know.”

She sat down in the chair next to him and took his hand. He rubbed his thumb over the back of hers. “Your father knew you’d come back one day.”

He blinked. “What?”

“He always knew you’d find your way back here. He just didn’t know how long it’d take.” She cleared her throat and for the first time since he’d been home, he heard her voice wavering as she said, “I just wish he could have seen what an amazing father you’re becoming.”

Azriel’s eyes closed, but not in any attempt to stop the tears. He knew there was no hope of that. So he leaned over and wrapped his arms around his mother, wishing he had been around to do it more in the past few years.

“Meme, may I have some juice, please?” Azriel and Miryam turned toward where Novan’shead peeked over the couch. When he saw Azriel’s tears, he hopped off the couch and ran over to him. He crawled up in his lap and asked, “You still crying happy tears, daddy?”

Azriel laughed, quietly. “Yeah, I can’t seem to stop.”

His little fingers reached up and brushed along Azriel’s tanned cheeks, wiping the tears away. “Don’t cry, daddy.”

Daddy. It wasn’t long ago that he didn’t even know he was a dad, and now he couldn’t imagine life any differently. He brushed Novan’s hair back off his forehead as he chuckled. “I’ll try my best. You know, your uncles will be here soon, you should probably go warn your mom.”

Novan grinned. “Yes! Okay. What about my juice?” 

“Meme will get you juice,” Miryam said, rising to her feet after she kissed Novan’s forehead. “Not too much, though, we’re having a big dinner tonight.” 

“And cake?” Novan asked.

Azriel laughed, “Yes, bud. And cake.”

“Yes!” He hopped off of Azriel’s lap and hurried back into the living room. He chuckled as his eyes followed him and heard Elain’s Oof! as he jumped onto her lap from over the arm of the couch.

It had been three days since they’d come home from the hospital. It was Azriel’s first chance to see Nesta, to ask what their phone call was about, but Elain was almost back to her cheerful self. She was still tired, but he knew she didn’t want to worry Novan. The sweet woman who owned the antique store had come by the house last night and brought them a plate of fresh baked cookies - which Novan has his eyes on all night - and told Elain to take a week or two off. She’d protested, but had ultimately accepted the kindness from her boss.

Azriel was grateful that Elain had such great people in her life.

Miryam began fluttering about the kitchen, after giving Novan his precious juice, and Azriel kept trying to help, but she just kept chuckling. “I love you, honey, but you are hazardous to have in the kitchen.”

Azriel scoffed, pouring himself a glass of bourbon. “That’s not true.”

“You burnt spaghetti once, sweetheart.”

Azriel screwed the lid back on the bottle and took a sip before he said, “I was seventeen, that’s not fair.”

He was kicked out of the kitchen soon after. It was okay, though, because it meant that he got to go snuggle on the couch with Elain and Novan before their family began to arrive. Nesta and Cassian were the first, Nesta plopping down in the armchair in the living room as their movie finished up.

“Aunt Nes,” Novan began, propping his little chin on his fists. “Your tummy is getting big.”

“That’s because your baby cousin is growing in here,” she explained, lovingly rubbing her hand down it. “Just like you grew in your mommy’s tummy.”

Novan turned to Elain. “I was in your tummy? How’d I get in there?” His eyes grew even wider. “How’d I get out?”

Elain and Azriel both froze and Nesta, realizing the likely incoming conversation she’d caused, was about to get out of the chair, when Cassian entered the room and said, “It’s a boy!”

Elain and Az were on their feet, looking from Nesta and Cassian. Elain asked, “You found out? When?! And you didn’t tell me?”

Nesta, with a look of genuine confusion, said, “We haven’t found out, I have no idea what he’s talking about.”

“I’m talking about Az,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Because he’s officially a dad.”

Azriel rolled his eyes as Cassian pulled him in close for a hug, and Nesta groaned. “Oh, no, it’s too early for the dad-jokes to start.” 

“It’s never too early.” Cassian winked at his fiancée as he ruffled Azriel’s hair, which earned him a scowl.

“Uncle Cass!” Novan said, jumping up on the couch. “Meme got me a new train, wanna see?”

“Of course I do,” Cassian answered, as if the tiny toy train was the most majestic thing on the planet. With a wide grin, Novan hurried away to get it. 

Feyre and Rhysand came in a minute later, the latter holding a cake. “Close your eyes! I’ve been instructed to get this to the kitchen without anyone seeing. Little did I know you all would be standing directly in front of the door.” 

“The one time we don’t walk through the back door,” Feyre muttered, and Elain chuckled.

Rhysand hurried through the house with the cake as Feyre hugged Azriel, then Elain, just as Novan came running back through the house with a little toy train.

He took a tumble right as he came around the corner and everyone froze, waiting to see if the fall would result in a meltdown or if he’d hop right back up and keep going. It seemed Novan was having a rough day, too.

He sat back on his bottom and looked at the carpet burn on his knee and then the tears began. He forgot the train on the floor and was up and running towards his family. Miryam and Elain were both ready to scoop him up and dry his tears, but he passed them and stood in front of Azriel. He wailed, “Da- Daddy, I hurt my knee.”

There was no hesitation as he picked his son up and said, “Let me see, bud.”

Novan moved his hand, where it was holding his knee, and the smallest of carpet burns made its appearance. 

“Ouch,” Azriel agreed, kissing Novan’s forehead. “How about a Bandaid? Bandaids always help.” 

Novan nodded, his bottom lip still wobbling as Azriel carried him into the kitchen and sat him down on the counter. 

“You gotta remember to walk,” Azriel sang as he dug through the medicine cabinet. 

“I was excited,” Novan replied, wiping at his eyes.

“I know,” Azriel said, laughing softly as he found the box of Bandaids and took one out that had Spiderman on it. He carefully put it over the carpet burn. “Even when we’re excited, though, we have to walk when we’re inside. Right?”

Novan nodded, and then his eyes caught something over Azriel’s shoulder. Azriel took Novan off the counter and turned around to see that Novan had found the cake, and remembering Rhysand’s earlier warning, he quickly hurried out of the kitchen. “Don’t tell Meme we saw the cake,” Azriel mumbled.

Novan’s hands flew over his mouth as he giggled.

They rejoined the family in the living room, Azriel sitting next to Elain, and Donovan took off, walking quickly, to retrieve his forgotten train and show his uncle. Before they knew it, it was time to eat and Cassian and Azriel carried in plates full of fresh from the grill burgers and hot dogs.

Azriel had been attempting to catch Nesta’s eye all afternoon, but whether it was intentional or not, he could never seem to find a moment to pull her to the side. He’d find a moment at some point, he was sure, but he didn’t want to let his curiosity ruin a perfect day.

Novan was eating a hamburger that was the size of his head when he asked, “Mommy, does this mean I get a second birthday every year?”

Everyone laughed as Elain said, “Not quite, buddy.”

“But, it’s a special day,” Azriel said, eyeing Novan next to him at the table. 

“Because we eat cake?” he asked. “Thank you for cake, Meme.”

Miryam laughed. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

“Cake is good,” Azriel agreed. “But, it’s special because now I get to legally be your daddy.” Novan’s brows scrunched together, and Azriel realized that such a concept would be confusing to a four-year-old. “Nevermind,” he went on, chuckling. “Today is special because I love you, yeah? This will forever be our special day, bud.” 

His hazel eyes lit up. “Just for us?”

Azriel couldn’t help but smile. “Just for us, but don’t you think we should let everyone celebrate?”

His eyes narrowed. “We share the cake?”

Azriel chuckled and kissed his head. “You’d have to share the cake regardless.”

Donovan sighed dramatically. “Fine. As long as it’s our day though. I’m glad you’re my daddy”

He dove back into his burger, not noticing that almost everyone else around the table had tears in their eyes.

Especially Rhys and Feyre.

————————————————————————

Once the cake had been cut and Donovan crashed from sugar, Rhys and Az took a minute to step out onto the back porch.

“So…” Azriel awkwardly began. How exactly was he supposed to pick back up the conversation about his brother’s infertility?

“You’re wondering about the results from Yrene?” Rhysand guessed. A small smile had appeared on his lips, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

Azriel nodded. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, I was just-.”

The door opened again and Cassian stepped out, a beer in his hand. “What’d I miss?”

Azriel frowned as Rhysand ran a hand through his hair. “I, uh, met with Yrene. Feyre and I have been struggling to have kids for a while, so we had some tests run.”

Cassian’s face fell as he stood by his brothers. “I didn’t even know you guys were trying.” 

Rhysand nodded. “Yeah… And, it turns out, Feyre’s fine. It’s me.” His voice went so quiet that the words could hardly be heard.

“Is there...nothing you can do?” Azriel asked.

Rhys shook his head. “Not really, because as of right now, we’re doing everything right. I just have a, uh.” He shook his head and laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I have a low sperm count.”

“What exactly does that mean?” Cass asked, leaning against the wooden rail. “You can cum but there’s no swimmers?”

Az rolled his eyes and said, “It means he has less than you and I.” He looked back to Rhys. “Which that’s not a definitive no, right? It could still happen at some point, in some way?”

Rhys was shaking his head. “Yes, but it’s not likely to happen in the traditional way.” He sighed. “They’re suggesting we try implanting it directly into Feyre’s uterus, but it’s expensive. Money isn’t a problem, I just don’t want to put Feyre through that for nothing if it doesn’t take.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Have you talked about a surrogate anymore?”

“I’d fuck her for you,” Cass interjected.

Rhys said, “Dude, no,” at the same time Azriel said, “Cassian,”‘and shook his head.

“What?” He asked. “It’s cheaper than paying someone else to do it with a big ass syringe, it would feel good for Feyre, and the kid would still look like the rest of the family.”

Rhysand rolled his eyes, completely ignoring Cassian, and said, “We’ve discussed it. She doesn’t want to use a surrogate. She wants to try the intrauterine implant method if we try anything.” He sighed and said, “And please don’t ever tell Feyre that you offered to fuck her.”

“Do you want my kid?” Cass asked.

“No, Cass, I don’t want your kid.”

“Cause you can have this one,” Cassian went on, sipping from his bottle. “Nesta and I will just make another.”

Azriel gawked, but Rhysand was shoving Cassian in the chest, unable to stop the genuine, little smile that had formed. “Fuck you.”

Cassian laughed, and pulled Rhysand in for a hug by the back of his head. “I’m sorry, man. Something will work out though, you know? You two were meant to be parents.”

He nodded his head, and smiled sadly, though Az could tell it was genuine. “I know we will. We just...never thought that it would be us, you know? You hear all of these stories about people having trouble conceiving, but you also hear about so many accidental pregnancies,” Azriel’s cheeks heated,  though he knew it was unnecessary. Rhys went on, “So when you find out that you are the reason you can’t make a kid…” He shook his head. “Makes me feel like a piece of shit. Like I’m not that man I promised her I’d be.”

“Feyre loves you whether you can or can’t, just the same,” Azriel said, quietly. “And just because you can’t make a kid the traditional way won’t make it any less special. We all find different routes to parenthood, it seems. Some routes are harder than others. Never doubt yourself, though. You’re a good man, Rhys, and you’ll be a great husband.”

Rhysand nodded, and clapped Azriel on the shoulder. For a moment, they all stood there in a comfortable silence, dwelling on all that had been said, fully aware there was not much else that could be said to comfort him, but hoping their presence would be enough. 

————————————————————————

After Donovan went down for late nap, he didn’t wake up for the rest of the night. A little after eight, everyone had packed up and left, and when they got back to their house, Azriel took Novan to his room and tucked him. He wasn’t sure how long he sat on the floor by his bed, gently brushing his hair off his face, watching him sleep. But he just wanted to be there. To bask in the peaceful moment of loving his son.

His heart was aching for Rhys. He was doing everything he could to fulfill their dream for Feyre but sometimes, there was only so much that could be done.

With a sigh, Az got to his feet and pressed a soft kiss to Novan’s forehead, before cracking the door shut and stepping into the hall. The sound of water had him heading into their bedroom, and the adjoining bathroom, where he found Elain soaking in the tub.

“Well, someone looks relaxed,” he said, pulling the small stool stashed under the vanity to the edge of the tub and resting his arms on the edge. He propped his chin on his arms and glanced down into the water, where Elain was blissfully naked. He glanced up at her and wiggled his eyebrows.

She laughed quietly and said, “Down, boy.”

He smiled broadly and pressed a soft kiss to her lips. “Well. It’s official. You have yourself a certified baby daddy.”

She laughed as she reached a wet hand out of the tub and brushed back his hair. “Sure do.”

“We’re a family now,” he breathed. “I mean, we’ve always been a family, but...now we can laminate it.”

Elain’s head fell back as she laughed. “You want to laminate our son’s birth certificate? I was just going to put it in the filing cabinet along with everything else.”

He grinned. “Fair enough. I’m just...excited.”

“Good,” she said, quietly. “Me too, for life with you. Our family.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against hers. “You look happy.”

“I am happy.”

“You’re beautiful when you’re happy,” he breathed, greeting her with the softest of kisses.

“Hush,” she breathed, blushing, kissing him back, unable to pull the smile from her face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he smiled, and looked down into the water again. Thanks to the oils, salts, bath bomb and whatever else she’d put in the water, he could make out her form, but couldn’t explicitly see her body. “You know, it’s been a long day, I was thinking about taking a bath, too.”

Elain chuckled and asked, “Really?”

Azriel shook his head, “No, not really, but I’ll never pass up an opportunity to be naked and wet with you.” She laughed and he kissed her cheek, heading for the bedroom. “I’ll be back with a bottle of wine and two glasses.”

She sank down into the water a little bit lower and said “Just one glass.”

He turned back, unable to read her expression, and said, “Why just one?”

His face made her chuckle and she said, “Pregnant women can’t drink, Az.”

“Well, I know, but what does that-.” His words broke off as the realization of her words hit him, as her grin spread wide. His voice was just a whisper as he asked, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

She shook her head, excitedly, unable to stop the melodic laughter that fell from her lips. “I’m pregnant, Az.” 

His mouth fell open, and for a moment he was frozen in place, but then he was running toward the bathtub and throwing himself into the water, clothes and all. Tears were running down his face as he cupped Elain's cheeks, his knees on both sides of her waist, and kissed her lips. 

“You’re serious?” He breathed, lips still on hers.

She nodded and Azriel noticed her tears as well. “They ran it with all of my tests when I was in the hospital. And it came up positive.” She reached down to the floor outside the tub and held up the little plastic stick. “I’m ten and a half weeks.”

“Ten and a half weeks,” he repeated, his heart completely full. “A baby.”

She nodded, laughing as he pressed his forehead against hers. “Don’t go running off this time.”

“Not a chance,” he whispered, and kissed her, showing her just how deep his loyalty ran.

[f107group2]

Spiny Lobster: Spiny and Clawless but Colorful Nonetheless

Photo from: Florent’s Guide to the Tropical Reefs

Yes, you read it right! Apparently there exists a lobster (Family Palinuridae) without claws. It may not be the one you’ve exactly imagined when you see those crustaceans whose claws are clamped in an aquarium outside a seafood restaurant but we’re pretty sure these lobsters saved the chef from some pinches. To some punctures? That we don’t know. It is named spiny lobster afterall!

I. Classification

Kingdom: Animalia

 Phylum: Arthropoda

   Subphylum:   Crustacea

     Class: Malacostraca

       Subclass: Eumalacostraca

         Superorder: Eucarida          

           Order: Decapoda

             Suborder: Pleocyemata

               Infraorder: Achelata

                 Family: Panuliridae

                   Genus: Panulirus

                      Species: versicolor (Fofonoff et. al. 2018)

II. Distribution: Hi! So my address is just right here..

Photo from:  Lavery et. al. 2014

Known as the Painted Spiny Lobster, they are native to the Indo-Pacific waters and are distributed in the Red Sea, South Africa, Southern Japan, Northern Australia, Micronesia, and Polynesia. However, the first non-native occurrence is reported in the Brunswick River, Georgia (Fofonoff et. al. 2018).

III. Anatomy: Pinching for that Body Plan

Extenal Anatomy

The external anatomy of a true lobster (Family Nephropidae) is composed of two parts: The Cephalothorax and the Abdomen as depicted above. The same is true for spiny lobsters but the Paniluridae traversed a different way in the path called evolution.

Photo from: Charles Derby 2011 (up) and Nemesis Database Species Summary (down)

So what do true lobsters have that spiny lobsters don’t? Or better yet what makes spiny lobsters unique from other lobsters?

Spiny lobsters lack the prominent claws and rostrum associated with true lobsters and instead have two frontal horns and prominent dorsal spines (Fofonoff et. al. 2018). Its body is tubular in shape with all of its legs not possessing true pincers and the first pair is not enlarged (Tavares). The antennae are cylindrical, enlarged, and longer than its body. The total body length reaches up to 400mm, but the average maximum size is around 300mm. The male spiny lobster tends to be larger than females (Fofonoff et. al. 2018).

Panulirus versicolor’s carapace has a whitish background, with large areas of bluish-black. The abdomen, on the other hand, is predominantly green in color and the telson is a mix of bluish-black and green. The legs are lined with black and blue stripes. The antenna is pinkish-red in the thicker and lower segments and becomes white ringed with black rings in the upper segment (Sutton 2017).

Photo by: Sutton 2017

The following are brief functions of the spiny lobster’s general external anatomy:

Shell: This part is the lobster’s exoskeleton, made from chitin, which serves as a protection for the internal anatomy. However, for the lobster to grow, it sheds its shell in the process called molting.

Antennae and Antennules: The antennae and antennules of the lobster are used as chemoreceptors, which detect odors and chemical signals to help them in locating food, mate, and avoid danger. In spiny lobsters, the antenna is longer than the antennules.

Stalks: For their vision, lobsters have long and stalked compound eyes. Although stalked, their vision is not that excellent, and can only see images in dim light.

Legs: Since they are under Decapoda, they have 10 legs that are used by the animal to navigate its way on the seafloor.

Tail fan: This is the last segment of the lobster. It has a telson as the center tail fin and pairs of uropods at both sides and is used for backward propulsion.

 Internal Anatomy

These creatures as a member of the Decapod group have internal organs that are the same as the other species. Its circulatory system is open, unlike humans. They have a single-chambered heart that is composed of muscles and ostia, or openings. Usually, the heart of an adult lobster beats for 50-136 beats per minute.

IV. Reproduction and Life Cycle

Photo from: Shiran Weerathunga, 2014

A day in a lobster’s life, they reach sexual maturity at the age of 5 to 6 years. The male’s task is to mate with as many female lobsters there is. Usually, they mate to a depth of 50 to 100 feet of water. As they mate, the male will deposit its spermatophore or known as the plaster in the female’s belly. After a while, the female will move to waters less than 30 feet deep, and when she is ready to spawn, she will use the pincers on her fifth walking leg to cut the plaster and fertilize her 80,000 to 800,000 eggs.

These eggs will be deposited under her tail, where she will perform parental duties until they hatch 9 to 10 weeks later. Usually, the larvae are transparent, large, pigmented eyes with long legs, and have little resemblance to adult lobsters. After 7 to 9 months they drift with the currents and eat plankton, after which they go to shallow water and settle at the bottom. Their lifespan is estimated to be 15 years (Cardone 2008; NOAA Fisheries 2020).

Check out this video of spiny lobsters mating!

and these cute baby lobsters!

V. Ecology

Habitat

They are found living singly or in groups in shallow water ranging from the low-tide marks up to 15 m depth and often reside in rocky areas, coral reefs, and overhangs that provide them protection (Fofonoff et. al. 2018; Mortiz 2010).

Photo by: Aquapix

Feeding Habit and Predators

Spiny lobsters are nocturnal and carnivore feeders. They even exhibit cannibalism at some point in their lives.They remain hidden in their reef or rock shelters called dens during the day and hunt during night for a variety of mollusks, shrimp, crabs, worms, and sea urchins (Sutton 2017). They use their strong legs to pry open their prey. Meanwhile, spiny lobsters are a delicacy not only to humans but octopus, groupers, and trigger fishes as well.

Be fascintaed with this video on how spiny lobsters protect themselves from a trigger fish.

VI.  Relationship with Humans

Ornamental organisms

The juvenile painted spiny lobster displays a vibrant and attractive coloration of blue and purple body with white antennae which has attracted the market of tropical marine aquarium trade (Fofonoff et. al. 2018).

Photo by: Rokus Groeneveld & Sanne Rejis

For consumption

Spiny lobsters in general are eaten and are regarded as a delicacy. The meat located at the lobster’s abdomen proved to be very tasty and chewy.

While the lobster is a rich source of copper and selenium, it contains very high cholesterol, thus, it should be eaten in a regulated manner. Additionally, lobster contains zinc, phosphorus, vitamin B12, magnesium, vitamin E, and a small amount of omega-3 fatty acids (Ware 2018).

For livelihood

As of 2011, Panulirus spp. farming has not been reported in the last years to FAO but the species are cultured in Vietnam, Indonesia, Malaysia, and Philippines (Clive and Shanks 2009). Philippine waters are a natural resource of seeds for lobster farming and so there is a regional trade in peuruli and juveniles to establish spiny lobster farming.

Photo from: Mercator Media Ltd 2020

However, an article published in 2018 says that BFAR will bring the lucrative lobster culture to poor communities in Eastern Visayas by providing the cages and feeds to the beneficiaries (Meniano 2018). According to BFAR, the lobster culture is very ideal not only because of the strong demand from China and Taiwan but also because it is very expensive (4,000 per kilogram) (Meniano 2018).

VII. Did you know?

1. Lobsters pee out of their heads. While their anus is located posteriorly, their bladder is found under its brain and the opening is located at the base of their antennae, or just under their eyes!

2. The female lobster takes "her clothes off" to mate. Female lobsters “take off” their shells during molting and it is in this process that they decide to mate as well. 

3. Lobsters have two stomachs. To make things even more weird, the first stomach located on its head has teeth! It functions to crush food and the second aids in digestion and is located at the abdomen.

4. Lobsters can detach one of their limbs in an emergency. Don’t worry, they are able to regrow it during the molting process.(Yes, the organism in the video is a crayfish but the mechanism is the same with their lobster cousins!)

5. In the 17th century, lobster was anything but a delicacy. In fact, a field guide by Motoh from Southeast Asian Fisheries Development Center in 1980 said that the spiny lobster sells for about ₱55/kg in Manila and ₱40/kg in local areas! Now, as stated above, it costs ₱4,000/kg!

Photo from: Creative Tourist (Courtesy of Barnsley Museum)

6. The blood is known as the hemolymph and is color blue due to the presence of Copper.

Photo from:  @WhatTheFFacts on twitter

VIII. References

American Lobster. (2020). Overview of Homarus americanus: The American Lobster. Retrieved November 9, 2020, from, http://www.parl.ns.ca/lobster/overview.htm 

Cardone, B. (2008). The Lifecycle of Spiny Lobsters - California Diving News. Retrieved November 10, 2020, from https://cadivingnews.com/the-lifecycle-of-spiny-lobsters/

Clive, J., Shanks, S.  (2009). Requirements for the aquaculture of Panulirus ornatus in Australia. Australian Centre for International Agricultural Research, 98-109

Fofonoff PW, Ruiz GM, Steves B, Simkanin C, & Carlton JT. (2018). National Exotic Marine and Estuarine Species Information System. Retrieved November 9, 2020, from, http://invasions.si.edu/nemesis/

Lavery S.D., Farhadi A., Farhamand H., Chan T.Y., Azhdehakoshpour A., Thakur V., Jeffs, A. (2014). Evolutionary Divergence of Geographic Subspecies within the Scalloped Spiny Lobster 

Panulirus homarus (Linnaeus 1758). Retrieved November 9, 2020, from,DOI: 10.1371/journal.pone.0097247 

Meniano, S. (2018). BFAR eyes lobster farms in 3 Eastern Visayas provinces. Retrieved from Philippine News Agency: https://www.pna.gov.ph/articles/1042610#:~:text=Lobster%20culture%20is%20very%20ideal,high%20preference%20for%20live%20lobsters.&text=A%20fishermen%20can%20raise%20up%20to%20100%20lobster%20juveniles%20in%20a%20cage.

Mortiz. (2010). Family Palinuridae - spiny lobsters. Retrieved from SealifeBase: https://www.sealifebase.ca/Summary/FamilySummary.php?ID=13

Motoh, H. (1980). FIELD GUIDE FOR THE EDIBLE CRUSTACEA OF THE PHILIPPINES. Iloilo, Philippines: SOUTHEAST ASIAN FISHERIES DEVELOPMENT CENTER (SEAFDEC) .

NOAA fisheries. (2020). Caribbean Spiny Lobster. Retrieved November 10, 2020, from https://www.fisheries.noaa.gov/species/caribbean-spiny-lobster#:~:text=Spiny%20lobsters%20may%20live%2015,3.6%20inches%20in%20the%20Caribbean. 

Sutton, A. (2017). Painted Spiny Lobster – Facts and Photographs. Retrieved from Seaunseaan: https://seaunseen.com/painted-spiny-lobster-facts-and-photographs-clone/

Tavares, M. (2002). The living marine resources of the western central Atlantic. FAO Species Identification Guide for Fishery Purposes Area 51 and American Society of Ichthyologists and Herpetologists, 294-325.

Ware, M. (2018). Everything you need to know about lobster. Retrieved from Medical News Today: https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/303332

[vincent-frankenstein]

44: “If you die, I’m gonna kill you.” and/or 20: “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” with either prinxiety or roceit? (if you have time or are board or something. But only if you want to! I'm sorry if this isn't a very good suggestion, I can send more. I just really like your work!)

anon i will fight you this suggestion just got me to vibe on a page for 2 hours and i CRIED this prompt is one of my favorite ones ive gotten so far 

also ty!!

Summary: Roman is locked away in the Imagination, and the Mindscape is crumbling. As the light sides panic, Deceit slips away to rescue his prince.

Warnings: uhhhhh Bad Feelings, panic, near death, transformation (dee becomes a snake for like 2 paragraphs), slightly suicidal thoughts but there’s a Happy Ending i promise

It was when the Imagination began to crumble that the sides truly knew something was wrong.

They hadn't seen Roman for weeks, but that wasn't that out of the ordinary. It was in his nature to vanish for weeks on end into his realm, pursuing only the grandest, most perfect dreams to present to Thomas upon his return. But then they woke one gray morning to find cracks splintering from his door, spiderwebbing further as the mindscape shook, and when they tried to summon Roman they got no response.

Deceit watched from the shadows as the light sides argued, peering at the growing cracks with narrowed eyes. It was quite obvious that Roman was in danger; the Imagination, or at least the side that he controlled, couldn't exist without his presence. If it was crumbling, so was he.

Which, really. That was hardly Deceit's problem. Danger followed Roman like a loyal mutt; it had only been a matter of time before he found himself in the sort of trouble he couldn't get out of. He had it coming. The light sides would work themselves out in time — cease their incessant bickering over who would go and save him, who would stay with Thomas, who would risk themselves and who would stay safe — and Roman would be rescued. Deceit had no role to play in such a thing; really, he had no obligation to play the hero, especially for one of them.

But he couldn't move. The cracks spiraled; the walls around them shook, drywall snowing down from the ceiling. Deceit stayed silent in his little bubble of shadows, glaring at the door. A familiar laugh echoed through his mind; a smile flashed at the forefront of his thoughts, always warm, always kind, even as they bickered and bantered and fought with no end in sight.

He willed his foot to take a step backward, and it stepped forward instead. He owed nothing to Roman. He had no reason to subscribe to the outdated ideal of 'heroism' to save the sort of heroic idiot he was supposed to be fighting against. With a litany of hissed swears, he wrinkled his nose, glancing over at the arguing light sides.

Virgil was demanding to be allowed to go in alone. Logan was not-so-calmly debating the merits and downfalls of each possible configuration of rescuers — whether they should all go, whether Virgil should be the one to stay with Thomas, whether Roman could fend for himself. Patton was sobbing, damn near inconsolable. It would take them hours to come to a conclusion, hours that Roman didn't have.

A side couldn't die — unless they were in a realm of the mindscape where their connection to Thomas was weakened. The Subconscious, the Darkscape, or... the Imagination. If something had incapacitated Roman to the point that the Imagination had begun to literally crumble, it was only a matter of time until each side felt that horrifying swoop in their stomachs, the sickening lurch that declared that a fellow side had died.

Roman was going to die.

Deceit didn't care. He didn't. He...

He swore again, hands curling into fists. Damn Roman to Hell and back for making Deceit care about him — and damn the remnants of a heart still floating around in Deceit's chest that allowed him to care in the first place. He was self-preservation, for lying's sake! He wasn't built to play the hero.

But that was exactly what he was going to do. He knew it, with a sinking certainty in his bones, a quiet resignation deep in his stomach. He couldn't walk away, not from this — not from Roman. Not when he knew his own complacency would cause them to lose Roman for good. With a heavy sigh — and one last hissed swear, for good measure — he slipped through the shadows and into the Imagination before the other sides could even notice he was there.

Rain poured from the inky-black swirling mess that Deceit assumed was meant to be the sky, great freezing droplets that lashed at his skin and sent shivers cascading through his bones. Lightning flashed in jagged bolts across the horizon. The wind smelled of ash and smoke as it hurried past; Deceit held his hat to keep it from flying off in the chaos.

The sky churned, a great circle of darkness centered above the cause of it all: a raised platform surrounded by blood-red roses. Cracks splintered from the platform, gouging monstrous ravines across the landscape. A figure laid on the platform — and above him, a hulking beast gave a hideous thunder-crackle roar, dark wings stretching high into the sky. A dragon. Of course.

Deceit allowed himself only a moment to curse Roman's name to the wind once more before he narrowed his eyes, assessing the situation. He had no hope of fighting the dragon on his own; Roman was the only one in the mindscape who knew how to fight, unless you counted Virgil, with his crude affinity for starting fistfights. And Roman was currently... unconscious, Deceit hoped. Sleeping atop a platform guarded by a dragon.

First order of business: wake Roman up. Then he could fight off the dragon — or, at the very least, get them both out of the Imagination intact. He scanned the landscape between himself and Roman, and then peered up at the dragon, thinking. He had to be careful about this.

A snap of his fingers sent a familiar dizzying lurch through his stomach, and he dropped to the ground, feeling his skin melt away to be replaced with iridescent black scales. He shook himself, sinking into his new form, and then slithered off towards Roman, testing the air with his tongue with every moment he moved. The dragon was a great mass of heat above them both; Roman was a beacon of warmth, waiting just ahead.

He slipped through the grass and onto the bottom of the platform, keeping close to the edge of the cracks so his darkness wouldn't stand out against the stark quartz. Ducking down against the side of the platform, he allowed the transformation to take hold again, and, shaking feeling back into his hands, he stood.

"Roman," he said, loud to be heard against the roar of the storm above. He gripped the edge of the platform and leaned over Roman, eyes narrowing. Roman's face was pale; his eyelids fluttered weakly, his mouth moved but made no sound, and he didn't wake. The roses had grown over his hands, over his legs, thorny vines twisting across his limbs to tie him down. Blood-red petals scattered across his skin.

Deceit glanced up at the dragon. It bellowed, slamming a claw into the ground and sending more cracks spiraling. It hadn't noticed him yet. "Roman," he said again, more forcefully this time. "Roman, you need to wake up."

The ground trembled. The dragon screamed and the noise filled Deceit's lungs, his head, twisting around his thoughts and squeezing until he could barely breathe. The horizon had begun to shrink; tendrils of land spiraled up into the air and shattered among the lightning. Roman's breathing weakened; his eyelids stopped fluttering.

Deceit shook his head. "No, no," he whispered, grabbing Roman's shoulders and shaking. Roman had to wake up — he had to, he couldn't leave, he couldn't die, he had to wake up. Deceit couldn't fight the dragon on his own. He couldn't leave the Imagination without Roman; the door had already vanished in a crackle of wood.

But it was more than that, more than a desire to save himself, more than a need to escape. Desperation clawed at his lungs and stole his breath away as he looked at Roman's pale face, searching the emptiness inside for a hint, a glimmer of the dazzling light he knew. He needed Roman to wake up because — because —

Because he couldn't fathom living in a world where he didn't exist.

"Wake up," he said, and his voice shattered. "You — you have to wake up. You need to wake up because I can't do this without you, I can't —"

The dragon bellowed in fear, stumbling back as the ground at its feet vanished. The wind howled; the rain lashed at Deceit's face and mixed with the tears there, carving a deluge down his cheeks. Pieces of the platform began to vanish, bit by broken bit, and Deceit felt himself vanishing too, torn apart by the wind, washed away by the rain, wiped clean by the thunder and lightning as it cleaved through his lungs —

He pushed the decay away, pushed the pull of the Subconscious out of his mind, pushed pushed pushed —

He pushed forward and his lips connected with a curl of lightning, a rumble of thunder-crackle warmth, and he pushed and pushed and the roses bloomed along Roman's skin, vines curling away, and —

A hand moved to cup the back of his head. Shaking fingers curled through his hair. He barely even registered them until the warmth on his lips pulled away, tearing a gasp from his throat.

"Deceit," Roman gasped, the color returning to his face. Fire raced across Deceit's cheeks as he pulled back, gentle raindrops slipping down his skin. He glanced up, searching for the dragon — but it was gone.

"You're alive," he said, with the sort of voice that only came about when a thousand different emotions warred fiercely on his tongue. Roman blinked, holding a hand to his head.

"I suppose I am," he said. "I... I don't remember what happened."

A lie. Deceit could taste it, sweet blackberries curling through the air. Roman's lies always tasted like blackberries. He leveled Roman with a look and Roman sighed, curling in on himself. He seemed so small.

"...I was venting," he said finally. "I just felt so... so useless! I wanted to play out a few scenarios, see what things would be like if I... wasn't here. I suppose the Imagination just took things a bit too far."

"Understatement of the century," Deceit said, pulling himself up onto the platform to sit beside Roman. "I totally don't understand how you feel."

Roman blinked. "Really? I figured you would be able to relate — ah, it doesn't matter. It's like —"

"No, no, I mean —" Deceit cut himself off, sighing through his nose. He forced truth into his words, ignoring the bitter taste that spread across his tongue. "I get it. I've wondered myself how much better off everyone would be if I wasn't here."

"We wouldn't be better off at all!" Roman said. "Sure, you've made some mistakes, and you are a sassy bitch at times, but Thomas needs you!"

"Wow, really?" Deceit settled a hand against his chest, gasping in mock-surprise. "My own feelings of inadequacy don't automatically mean that I shouldn't exist? What a shocking revelation!"

Roman laughed quietly. "Touche," he said, his voice soft. "But what about the others?"

Deceit rolled his eyes. "Those idiots are outside as we speak, probably losing their minds over the fact that your door vanished. Even Logan was panicking. It was quite the sight."

"Even Logan?" Roman repeated, drawing his legs up onto the platform to pull his knees into his chest. "... You're serious?"

"Would you like me to summon one of those insufferable neckties he wears to prove it to you?" Deceit asked, raising an eyebrow. "Your existence matters. They care about you a great deal more than you think."

Roman nodded, looking away. "Right," he said, his voice just barely above a whisper. "And... I suppose you do, too?"

Deceit blinked, face scrunching in confusion as Roman turned to him with a small, teasing smile.

"You can't do this without me, right? Perhaps I misheard," Roman said, with the sort of smile that Deceit would expect more from Remus. Flames erupted across his face and he turned away, sneering.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure you don't," Roman said, with a very audible wink. A moment later, he nudged up against Deceit's arm, pressing against him for a moment before pulling away. "I can't do this without you, either."

"That's —" Deceit opened and closed his mouth several times, but the only sound he could manage was a strangled squawk. Roman laughed and the sound only made Deceit struggle harder, hands twisting together in his lap as his face scrunched. "That hardly — it doesn't — you —"

Roman laughed, and pushed their lips together again.

[princessplantasaurus]

Sponge AU Masterlist (for drabble requests and more!)

Alright so I literally just realized that I’m out here asking people for drabble prompts and vaguely mentioning my AUs but...a lot of newer sponge followers found me after the proshot and therefore weren’t around for these AUs?? So here is a masterlist of my Sponge AUs! I’m currently accepting any and all drabble prompts for any and all of these AUs and I’m also willing to answer questions or give some headcanons about them should anyone be curious! I’m also willing to do AUs of these AUs, such as, say a soulmate AU taking place in one of the AUs listed below, for example. 1. Regular Humanized Musical AU Basically exactly what it says on the tin. Based on the musical, all the characters are/appear human. Wrote quite a bit for this before, can be found here. 2. Regular Humanized Musical AU except Karen’s a robot Same as above, except while everyone else is a human, Karen appears human but is a robot. Sheldon built her originally as an assistant for his (then) new restaurant, and somewhere along the way she developed romantic feelings that she never expected him to return (but obviously, he did). Typically a little more angsty or in the hurt/comfort genre than the regular humanized musical au, often drabbles took place much before the musical, in the early days of Plankton and Karen’s relationship. Wrote quite a few of these, can be found here.

3. College AU Ah yes, the one that started it all. Basically a humanized college AU but this was the main one I wrote for. There was a fic posted on ao3 and also several drabbles. First year student Edward started at college in Bikini Bottom with his high school boyfriend as his roommate. When his roommate cheats on him during frosh week, he eventually works up the nerve to request a move. He ends up rooming with fellow first year students Bobby and Patrick, who were best friends from day one. Bobby works at an on-campus restaurant as fry cook, and eventually gets Edward a job as cashier, replacing Sheldon, the former best friend of their student manager, a fourth year student named Eugene Krabs.  Eugene and Sheldon were best friends since elementary school, and went to the same college with the plan of graduating with degrees in business and food science and opening their own restaurant together. When Sheldon stated dating Karen, however, it through a wrench in their friendship. Eugene knocking up his girlfriend and now having to worry about being a father on top of graduating and managing the restaurant has put a lot of stress on him. Meanwhile, Sandy Cheeks, a first year student, just got kicked out of the sorority she only got into since she was the daughter of an alumni. There’s so much more I could say about this AU since this AU is the most “my baby” of all of them but I’ll leave it at this. 3a. Coffee Shop AU An AU of the College AU that featured Bobby as the campus’ resident barista, who deemed himself cafe cupid as he tried to pair up both Sheldon and Karen, and Perch and Edward. Wrote a small handful of things that can be found here. 4. Battle of the Bands AU Team of Tres, 3 twenty something best friends (Bobby, Patrick and Sandy) who have been playing as a pop rock band for a few years, and are finally entering the Bikini Bottom Battle of the Bands, where the winner gets signed to a major label. They think they have it in the bag, until they realize last year’s runners up, Chum Bucket, who toured with the Electric Skates as their opening act, are back to compete again. Chum Bucket is a duo, fronted by leading man vocalist Sheldon Plankton, who considers himself a bisexual sex god rock star and likes to maintain this image, often bringing fans backstage to make out with them. Doing literally everything else for Chum Bucket is the second member, Karen, who writes, produces, and arranges all their songs, while also live mixing and DJing behind Sheldon during sets. What no one knows is Sheldon and Karen have actually been dating for close to 10 years, something they’ve been keeping secret in order for Sheldon to keep up his ‘image’ with the fan base. Feeling the need to add a little extra edge to the band, Bobby recruits Pearl, the teenage daughter of his day job’s manager, after hearing her sing one day and realizing she’s a better lead vocalist than he’d ever be. Pearl’s dad doesn’t exactly KNOW they’re doing this. And why, pray tell, is Bobby’s next door neighbor always complaining about their music? What could Edward possibly know about music, anyway? (When I was initially going to write this as a fic I kept Edward’s role in this a secret and tbh I still kinda want to unless someone requests a drabble prompt that involves his involvement.)   I did write a little bit for this au, all of which can be found here. And now onto the stuff I never got around to writing! 5. Monsters and Aliens AU This one’s gonna be vague as hell because this started as a vague pitch of “Spongebob Universal Monsters AU” that me and my friend Bella kept snowballing in DMs (specifically while I was in the stock room at the place I worked at the time one day, I remember this vividly for some reason??). So basically you got Sheldon who’s a vampire, Sandy who’s a weresquirrel, Squidward as a Phantom of the Opera type, and Patrick who’s a Frankenstien’s Monster type. They are all basically being held in a house arrest type situation, free to live in their little house on the outskirts of town but not wanted by Bikini Bottom as a society since they’ve all wreaked havoc on the town before. Spongebob is town’s local hero kid. Ever since he was young, his upbeat unbreakable positivity and unwavering stick-to-it-iveness have been utilized by the town to stop disaster, including sending him to save them from the monsters multiple times. When a race of alien robots invade and threaten to not just destroy and conquer Bikini Bottom, but the world, the town decides it’s best to send the monsters at them like a little monster army. Spongebob, worried for his monster friends,  decides to spearhead this process so that he can help them plan and train. (Karen is also involved in this AU, as one of the alien robots who “defects” to the “good side” because Plankton “sucessfully” “secudes” her, but that’s a whole separate side tangent)  6. Girl Group AU I LITERALLY FORGOT THIS EVEN EXISTED UNTIL I WAS GOING THROUGH OLD DMs AND IT CAME FLOODING BACK TO ME. Sandy, Pearl and Karen started as a group of high school friends posting videos of themselves singing on YouTube who eventually got big enough to be signed to a major label. Sandy is the lead vocalist and doesn’t really want to BE a musician anymore. Singing was fun when it was just a side hobby she did with two of her friends, but she hates the fame and doesn’t want to pursue music as a career. She’d really rather dedicate her life to science, but she doesn’t want to ruin things for Pearl and Karen Pearl is the youngest (was 15 when they started making videos as opposed to Sandy and Karen who were almost 17) and feels like she’s constantly stuck in Sandy’s shadow. Wants to prove to the world (and her dad) that she’s more than just Sandy’s back up singer. Karen writes all the songs and mostly stays out of the spotlight. Has highkey been sleeping with their manager since day one, despite Sheldon claiming he treats all of his clients equally and doesn’t play favorites. (should be noted that Karen and Sandy were 19ish by the time they were signed and Sheldon would’ve been 20 or 21 since I picture him as an intern who got to surpass his mentor by finding and signing ‘the next big thing’ so like...the Sheldon/Karen relationship is at a healthy age difference don’t get that twisted) But yeah those are the AUs!! And I may think of more!! But I’m back in Sponge mode and want to write more drabbles so feel free to send literally anything into my inbox!! It can be just a little idea of your own, and I’ll also be reblogging starter prompts a few times a week if you’d rather send something from one of those! Feel free to specify an AU! Or not and I’ll pick the one I’m feeling! But thank you very much to everyone who read this monstrosity of a post I owe you my life.

[dreamcatcherfication]

Dreamers in Fantasyland - Part 3

Yo, I always forget how intense this fic gets until I read the new parts and start laughing, “Oh yeah, I forgot I wrote that.”

Welcome back to part three of Dreamers in Fantasyland, only one more to go! If you don’t know already, this fic was requested by the wonderful @theatergirl06 and I delivered with whatever garbage fire this is supposed to be. If you think things are crazy now, wait until next chapter where things get really meta. I hope you enjoy this part, and thanks for sticking around! Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, my brain is currently devoting itself to Britney Spears music videos. 

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Sword fighting, stabbing, blood, murder (they’re pirates, what do you expect Karen?)

Part 1 | Part 2

The night sky was black above Cathy and Anna as they quietly made their way through the town square. After docking at the Isle of Wights, the two of them had left their crew to traverse the silent island. The docks weren’t far off, and they had managed to tail Henry to where he was stopping for supplies. It was likely he was already gone from the port, but hopefully someone had information on his whereabouts. But Anna had heard of a legendary contact that was supposed to be stationed at a pub near the docks. If anyone knew where Henry was going with Anne and Kat, it would be this mysterious contact. 

The silence was unnerving as they snuck through the empty streets undisturbed. Even though she had only had her for a day, Cathy missed the talkative Kat at her side. She never spent much time with the girl alone in the 21st century, and internally Cathy vowed to rectify that. Kat had made this whole world-shift bearable, and now she was gone, along with Cathy’s girlfriend (did she count as a girlfriend in this reality?). The only thing she had left of her friend was her satchel, filled with what must have been mismatched items that Kat had taken from Cathy’s home. 

Anna stopped, standing in front of a rundown pub. “We’re here,” she said, opening the door and stepping inside. Looking up at the sign above the pub, Cathy couldn’t help but sigh. She should’ve known. She followed Anna inside, leaving behind the wood carved sign reading Aragon’s.

Inside, the bar was completely empty. No drunk sailors, no bartenders, just quiet. There were no cups on the tables, all of them stacked over by the mead barrels. “Shouldn’t there be someone here?” Cathy whispered to Anna.

“Oh, there is someone here,” Anna replied, staring straight ahead. She marched to the counter and went behind it, kicking open the door hidden in the back. The door went flying open, revealing Catherine of Aragon hunched over a pile of books and papers. She spun around like a deer caught on the headlights, her eyes wide with fear. 

When she saw who they were, she quickly regained her composure, standing up and frowning. “Who are you and what are you doing in my bar?” Despite being a bar owner and not a queen, Catherine still held herself with regality and high esteem. Her dress was a simple, probably hand sewn, yellow that reflected against her light cheeks. There were books scattered around the room, all of them with loose papers stuck in the margins.

Stepping forward, Anna kept her face neutral. “Anna von Cleves, pirate extraordinaire.”

Awkwardly moving to stand next to Anna, Cathy gave a small wave. “Cathy Parr, unwitting accomplice.”

Raising an eyebrow, Catherine picked up some of her books and moved them to a shelf along the wall. “I suppose you’re here for information. What is it you want to know?”

“Right to the thick of it,” Anna praised, “I like your style.” Catherine watched Anna, unimpressed with her suaveness. “Alright, we’re searching for Henry Tudor and his gang of bastards. They’ve taken some friends of ours and -”

“You’re going to save them,” Catherine cut her off. “That’s awfully heroic for ruthless pirates.”

Crossing her arms, Cathy replied, “We never mentioned anything about being ruthless.”

“Yes, well I know your type,” Catherine’s eyes narrowed as she observed Anna and Cathy. “You take what you want and destroy what you don’t. No one can escape you without getting hurt. Do you know how much I’ve lost to you lot? I do business with pirates very sparingly, and for good reason.”

Cathy didn’t miss the way Catherine stepped protectively in front of her books as she spoke. “What are the books for?” Cathy asked before Anna could start an argument. “You’ve plenty of notes in them, surely they can’t all be yours.”

Fingering the pages, Catherine’s posture softened. “They’re for teaching young girls who can’t receive an education. I refuse to let them live their lives without understanding free knowledge. They have a right to learn just like anyone else.”

Cathy would’ve expected nothing less from her godmother. “I’m an educated woman myself. It warms my heart to see you thinking about the less privileged girls.” A strange, cold sensation went tingling down Cathy’s spine as she realized what she sounded like. Her words were starting to morph into the more period specific language. It wasn’t anything remarkable, but the almost unconscious shift settled a small seed of fear into her mind. 

Neither Anna nor Catherine noticed Cathy’s inner turmoil. “Enough of this,” Anna cut in, bringing the conversation back to the original point. “What will the information cost us? Rubies? Pearls?”

Catherine’s eyes drifted to Kat’s bag tied around Cathy’s waist. “What’s in there?” she prodded curiously. 

It hadn’t occurred to Cathy to even check the bag, but she flipped open the top at Catherine’s prompting. The only thing in the bag was a journal. Pulling it out, Cathy felt a strange pull to the leather bound diary. Opening it, she had to hold back a gasp at seeing her own handwriting. Without a doubt, these were her words, all the things she had learned and observed in Edward IV’s court composed into one volume. “Knowledge,” was all Cathy answered with, glancing up at the other two women. 

“Knowledge for knowledge,” Catherine set the price, her eyes falling to the journal. “Is that adequate for you two?” Anna nodded her head, urging Cathy to trade the book. But Cathy couldn’t hand it over right away. She was glued to the journal, her hand starting to shake slightly. It was the only thing in the satchel. Why would Kat have only Cathy’s journal and nothing else? “Well?” Catherine asked.

Grabbing the journal from Cathy’s hands, Anna handed it over. “It’s yours. Now tell us what you know about Henry Tudor’s whereabouts.”

Originally, Anne and Kat were being kept in Henry’s office so that he could keep an eye on them at all times. It only took him being gone for an hour for the girls to cause chaos. “Listen to me Kat,” Anne told her unknowing cousin, “We might not be able to get out of here, but we’re going to cause as much damage as we can while we’re trapped.”

“How will we do that?” Kat asked, gesturing to the locked door. “We’re on a boat in the middle of the sea and to top it off we’re locked in the captain’s quarters.”

Smirking, Anne pointed a finger at Kat. “Never underestimate a pirate.” Turning around, Anne made her way over to Henry’s desk. Lying prone on the floor, Anne looked for any sort of hidden compartment she could find. Clicking her tongue, Anne cried, “Aha!” when she found it.

Kat made her way over to Anne and watched her in confusion. “What are you doing?” She asked, trying to follow Anne’s rapid movements.

Sliding out from under the desk, Anne winked at Kat. “This.” She kicked the side of the desk directly where she had been fidgeting with it. Without any resistance, the desk went toppling over, breaking into multiple pieces. “It’s a failsafe pirates implement into things like chests and desks. You undo one of the main support beams and the whole thing comes crashing down. Perfect for hiding evidence if you get attacked.” Looking down at the mess, Anne couldn’t hide a chuckle. “Also perfect for annoying your kidnapper.”

Nervously shrugging, Kat tried to joke, “Yeah, well you’re both my kidnappers so… heh.”

Playfully flicking Kat’s forehead, Anne cocked her head to the side. “I was only your kidnapper for a very short amount of time. Consider yourself freed now.”

“Fat lot of good that does,” Kat mumbled.

Shooting the girl an apologetic glance, Anne stepped over the wrecked desk. “Now, Kat, are you going to help me destroy the rest of this room or what?” 

Thinking about it for a second, Kat nodded and followed the pirate to the center of the room. “Where do we start?”

“Like this.” Anne ripped a portrait of Henry off the wall and threw it to the ground. She spit on it and then punched a hole through his face. “Well?” She grinned at Kat, “Let’s go!”

Moving to the other side of the room, Kat started throwing books on the floor and scattering them across the room. She took maps pinned to the walls and ripped them in half, destroying Henry’s logs. Any paper she could get her hands on, she tore it in half, spreading the pieces around the room in an unidentifiable mess. Anne was doing similarly on the other side of the room. “Won’t he kill us for this?” Kat asked without stopping her rampage.

“If he was going to kill us,” Anne replied, “He would’ve done it already.”

At those words, the door opened and in stepped Henry. One look around the room and his face grew red with anger. “What have you done?!”

With a self satisfied grin, Anne flipped Henry off. “Chaos, dear captain.”

That’s how Anne and Kat found themselves locked in the cells at the bottom of the ship together. It was awfully cramped, but neither girl was big enough to actually take up any space. There was a stiff silence between the girls as they swayed back and forth with the boat. Out of nowhere, Kat randomly asked, “Do I know you from somewhere? I’m sorry, you just look familiar.” She looked down in embarrassment, shaming herself for speaking out of turn.

Eyes widening, Anne cleared her throat. “No, you wouldn’t know me.”

Shifting so that she was facing Anne, Kat furrowed her eyebrows as she attempted to recall a memory. “I swear, you remind me of someone but I can’t figure out who…”

“Then don’t try to figure it out,” Anne hissed through her teeth, eyes darting anywhere but Kat’s. “I’m a pirate, and that’s that.”

Almost as if something had hit Kat in the face, she recoiled into the back of the bars. “What’s your last name?” she asked suspiciously.

Before Anne could answer, the trap door to the hold opened and light streamed into the room. Squinting their eyes, Anne and Kat turned away from whoever was coming into the room. The girls listened to the frantic jangling of keys followed by the creaking of the door opening. Eyes adjusting, Kat gasped, “Cathy!” and threw herself into her friends arms. She held her tightly until she noticed Anna behind her. “Anna!” She threw herself at Anna, hugging the pirate. Anna spun Kat around in a circle before putting her down safely on the ground.

“Hello liebling,” Anna greeted her, a cheesy smile on her face. Kat didn’t know what liebling meant, but the way Anna spoke to her was enough to convey the intent.

“Anne,” Cathy greeted nervously, watching the pirate captain stand up in the cell.

Rolling her eyes, Anne muttered, “Enough of this,” and pulled Cathy into a hug. “I’ve barely met you, yet I missed you as if I had known you for a lifetime,” Anne whispered, resting her head on Cathy’s shoulder.

Cathy understood Anne’s words far better than Anne herself, but she kept quiet. “We have to go,” she ordered when Anne pulled away. “Your men can only hold off Henry and his crew for so long.”

“You attacked his ship just to save us?” Anne gaped at Cathy and Anna. “Knowing that our resources were depleted after that attack, and you still risked it -”

“We would risk anything to save you two,” Anna answered, pulling Kat closer to her. “But we have to go unless we want to risk getting trapped here. I ordered the crew to leave if things got too bad.”

Nodding, Anne took the lead and made her way up the stairs towards the top deck. “And Anne,” Cathy called before the pirate could leave the hold. Anne turned around, her face impatient. “You might need this.” Cathy tossed her a sword, which Anne expertly caught in her grip. 

“This,” Anne smirked at her three companions, “This I can work with.”

The deck again was alight with battle, Henry’s crew unprepared but violently attacking whoever dared threaten their ship. “DEJA VU!” Cathy screamed as she ducked under a blade being swung at her head. “NOT WHAT I SIGNED UP FOR!” She yelled as she blocked the slash of one of Henry’s men. 

“Anna, you get Kat back on the boat,” Anne called to her first mate. 

Kat had her own sword that she was holding with both hands unwaveringly. “Don’t worry about me so much as yourself!” she replied, blocking a wild strike from a faceless man. Still, Anna made sure to corral Kat in the direction of their boat.

It was practically impossible to see anyone among the fighting. Somewhere along the line, Anna and Kat were separated. Anna was pushed towards the mast, where she was forced to climb up the rope towards the crow’s nest. She swung her sword as she ascended the ropes, glancing around below her for any sign of Kat, Anne, or Cathy. She stabbed downward, impaling the man she was fighting, causing him to go flying over the side of the boat.

A cry caught Anna’s attention. She turned her head to the side, watching as Kat fought a pirate with a first mate’s jacket. He must’ve been Henry’s right hand man, and he knew exactly who Kat was. He had batted her sword away and was pushing her against the edge of the boat. “Kat!” Anna shouted, testing her weight on a nearby rope. “I’m coming!”

With Kat’s attention diverted to Anna, the first mate had a perfect opportunity to overpower the girl. He shoved her backwards, causing Kat to go toppling over the side of the boat. Anna was already in the air, swinging on the rope with her hand outstretched. Her fingers brushed Kat’s falling ones, just barely able to latch onto her hand before the girl went plummeting into the sea. 

Swinging back to safety, Anna landed back on the deck with Kat wrapped in her arms. They stumbled on the boards, taking a moment to regain their footing. “You, you saved me,” Kat gasped, touching her body. “I’m alive!”

“It wasn’t a big -” Before Anna could finish, Kat grabbed her by the collar and pulled her down into a delighted kiss. When she pulled away, Anna was frozen with shock.

Unable to hide a smile, Kat let it transform into a smirk. “Now let’s fight some pirates.”

“I’m finally going to kill you Anne Boleyn, once and for all!” Henry raged as he twirled his sword against Anne’s. Cathy was beside Anne, helping to defend the girl as Henry threw strike after strike at them.

Anne grunted as she blocked his quick swings, being forced back. “You’ll need the skill to do that first,” she taunted him, jumping up on the stairs leading to the quarter deck. Cathy followed Anne, keeping her mouth shut as she parried Henry’s blows.

Clearly, Anne knew exactly how to rile Henry up. His fighting became more erratic as he left himself open for attack. “Your family disgraced you for a reason, Boleyn. I’m going to get rid of you so they no longer have to bear the embarrassment of your existence,” the pirate spit.

As Henry swung downwards in almost slow motion, Anne shouted, “Cathy! Now!” Taking her queue, Cathy ran her sword directly through Henry’s back, impaling him through the chest. While Henry managed to strike Anne’s arm, creating a large gash through her shirt and skin, he froze and dropped his sword immediately after.

Henry slowly looked down at the sword in his chest. “This…” he stuttered over his words, “isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”

Pulling out her sword, Cathy walked around Henry’s shaking body until she was standing next to Anne. Henry fell to his knees, unable to support his weight. “I think this is exactly how it’s supposed to go,” Cathy glared at the dying man. Raising her foot, Cathy muttered, “Goodbye Henry Tudor. May no one miss you,” and then she kicked him over the side of the boat. He went plummeting into the ocean, his body making a large splash against the waves.

Releasing a breath she had been holding, Anne hissed in pain as she covered her wound. “Anne, are you okay?” Cathy gasped, staring at the gash.

“He got me better than I’d like to admit,” Anne answered, clenching her fist. “At least you gave that bastard what he deserved.”

Glancing at where Henry had disappeared under the water, Cathy nodded. “Yeah. I did.”

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

Tag List:

@radcowboyalmondtree @boleynhowards @annabanana2401 @babeebobo @dont-lose-your-queerhead @everything-insanity @mindless-pidgeon @i-wanna-dance-and-sing-six @thedemidisaster @its-totes-gods-will @thatbolxyngirl @thenameisnoone @sixqueendom

[fakebloodcapsule]

got tagged by @ratatouiile to answer 30 questions and tag 20 people (which is uhhh not happening thats far too many)

1. name / nickname

lee! lee is also the nickname lmao

2. gender

i am a lesbian (they/them)

3. star sign

cap sun, sag moon, and virgo rising

4. height

5′10

5. time

currently its 2:55

6. birthday

four days ago hehe

7. favorite bands/groups

the regrettes, glass animals, mother mother, the front bottoms, king gizzard and the wizard lizard, mgmt

8. favorite solo artist

MITSKI, phoebe bridgers, billy joel, hozier, ricky montgomery

9. song stuck in my head

the stranger- billy joel

10. last movie

i also have no idea what the last movie i watched was,,, maybe soul?

11. last show

hannibal,, its on my mind most of the time but im still on season two dgfkdl

12. when did i create this blog

this blog specifically october 2016 BUT ive been on this site since probably summer 2012 because i hate myself

13. what do i post

yes and no

14. last thing googled

“french bread recipe” because bread (its rising rn its gonna go in the oven soon

15. other blogs

i have a lot of saved urls but this is my only active blog. i flirted with the idea of like an aesthetic blog but it seemed like too much work

16. do i get asks

not really which is okay because they make me nervous

17. why did i choose this url

i saw the word heliocentric and went wow that would make a cool url and then changed the last few letters because the original was taken

18. following

202 ( i should follow more people because i always end up hovering at the top of my dash and refreshing)

19. followers

295

20. average hours of sleep

sometimes its 5! sometimes its 12!

21. lucky number

13

22. instruments

i used to know how to play the ukulele because it was 2016 but i would love to learn piano

23. what am i wearing

grandpa sweater, black turtleneck, mens dress pants

24. dream job

dream-dream? honestly just like,, a baker

25. dream trip

i think itd be p cool to go to naples since thats where my mothers family is from

26. favorite food

pumpkin bread

27. nationality

american

28. favorite song

currently its only the good die young by billy joel but it varies

29. last book read

please dont ask me this i havent read a book in so long im so sad

30. three fictional universes you'd like to live in

i really can only think of taz rn,,, sorry lol

im gonna tag @seagullcharmer @catmeme @everytimewetouchbycascada @echeveriia @vanicherry :3

[theshinobiway]

The whole Lee being bald thing was just a mean hoax. It was never verified by any legit sources, just a bogus reddit post. There’s been plenty of those.

PSA: Rock Lee isn’t balding! I repeat, Rock Lee IS NOT BALDING! Here’s the Proof!

I knew that not watching Boruto would catch up with me eventually, so here’s me amending my previous statement: There’s no official confirmation that Rock Lee is actually balding in Boruto. 

And BOY did I do a deep dive of the internet for this. Saddle up kids, I’m about to throw on my amateur detective hat and take you for a wild ride through the internet to end this rumor once and for all.

Warning: Long, picture-heavy post where I cross-examine multiple sources.

Part I: The situation!

Here’s a compilation of the screencaps from Boruto episode 58 that sparked a thousand rumors.

Looking at the top-left screencap, we can see a strange rendition of Lee’s hairline. Following this introduction, Boruto and Yurui begin their match. When Yurui unleashes his unnamed Bubblegum-Pop jutsu, Boruto is thrown back. Rock Lee then grabs his hair due to the heavy winds that emanate from the burst. Putting the two together, it looks vaguely like Rock Lee has a strange hairline that accompanies him frantically grabbing his own hair.

Part II: The “Sources”

Okay, I spent probably close to 4-5 hours scouring through different links and articles. Here’s a breakdown of the internet’s say on the matter:

The first major source is from a website called “Comicbook.com” It’s the website that was linked in multiple other copycat articles, blog posts, and forums, and was the first result for any Google search of “Rock Lee balding” (or variations thereof)

Okay, this isn’t so bad. I see that there are sources linked, so I should be able to logically follow the trail back to either an interview or the name of the “book” in question. First, let’s look at where these so-called linked ‘sources’ lead. 

In any part of journalism, linking your sources is the most important step to ensure your audience that you cross-referenced with legitimate sourc-

aaaand YOU HAVE FAILED Journalism 101. 

Hm. despite the fact that this is a Reddit post and not an actual link to ANY book whatsoever, the link’s dead. Deleted. Frankly, this whole search was an endless loop of dead ends, but I was deadset on getting to the bottom of this.

So thus far, I’ve got one lead that wasn’t solved: there’s a rumored “Book” out there somewhere, and it was referenced at “some point.” My first guess would have been a databook, but I’ve read those. Perhaps the one I read had a translation error?

Scrolling through the comments of this Reddit post, I came across this:

Important context clues here: It’s not stated in a Databook. That means Naruto’s Jin no Sho, the Fourth official databook, is NOT the source of the rumor. Also, I was able to find a scanlation of Rock Lee’s page for the very same book here:

Rock Lee’s balding also certainly wouldn’t mentioned in any of the previous databooks where Rock Lee was, y’know, a teenager. All four official databooks are off the table.

Secondly, the link posted by user “Hydrobolt” leads to a twitter post with the following:

No sources, no reference to a book, nothing. Except for a few screenshots of Boruto Episode 58. I’ll discuss these shots later, but this appeared to be yet ANOTHER dead end. (Also, this twitter thread has ZERO links or sources!)

I can see why the post was deleted by the mods, but this was troubling: Did this whole rumor start from ONE twitter post from a shipper (that had single-digit likes/reblogs?) 

I didn’t think so. Even if this random tweet was picked up by a semi-popular media outlet, I still needed to answer the following questions:

What was the “book” that supposedly had Kishimoto’s confirmation? Did it exist, or was it a bluff?

Where could I find a scanlated (and hopefully English, though my husband speaks Japanese) version of the Rock Lee page?

Part III: The Search for the Non-Databook “Book”

Even if it wasn’t in a databook, there are multiple interviews and exo-textual sources that can be used to glean information about the characters. I knew I wasn’t looking for an interview–in part because the key was “book,” and also because Kishi has only given a set amount of serious interviews in the past, and most of those are available in translation. Thus, there might have been a storyboard, book, or some other source that was exclusively released that might hold this information.

The most promising lead was from a site called narutoforums.org

The original post:

Okay, first, there’s no actual link on “here”. That’s a major red flag, especially given that the post is currently only a year old (posted 7.27.18) 

And it’s yet another dead end.

…Sigh.

But wait!

User “Platypus” mentions that the source was a ‘movie booklet that’s been out for three years.’ That’s a lead!

A movie booklet, huh? Here we go: Sometimes, highly-anticipated animated movies are released in Japan with exclusive manga chapters or other easter eggs, as well as other goodies.

So, let’s talk about this unnamed “Movie booklet” – Three years prior to 2018 would have marked the release of the Baruto movie in 2015. That means the booklet would have been this one: Zai no Sho

This was the most difficult piece to dig up information on. The booklet in question was only released in Japan and during the original premiere of the movie in 2015. I couldn’t initially find scalations, so I did the next best thing: Looking for a table of contents. Good ‘ol Naruto wiki was here to save the day.

Boom. It even has page numbers!

Now, I had a supposed book source and even the page numbers. All that was left to find a translation. After some deep digging, I found one—right here on Tumblr via user Emotionalrockfish.

This was the moment of truth! I opened the link for Rock Lee’s page and carefully read over the description…

Rock Lee

Tireless effort and ambition! With his hot-blooded passion, he guides a genin!!The leaf village’s pride, an expert of taijutsu. He possesses absolutely no skill for ninjutsu, but refines his taijutsu by exceeding the limits of effort with the gutsiness he inherited from his master, and does nothing but aim high. He and his son, Metal*, absolutely can’t miss their daily training!

*Metal Lee is shortened to just Metal here, so no, he’s not called Lee like his father.

(*Pterodactyl screeching*)

AND THERE IT IS: After a whole trail of vague suggestions and dead links, I‘d finally come to the final source material. And there’s nothing! Nothing there that even remotely mentions Lee’s baldness!

N-O-T-H-I-N-G.

Conclusion: RUMOR UNSUBSTANTIATED

Part IV: So where did this rumor all start? And what’s with “that” scene?

The Situation Unfolds: The whole situation is from Boruto, Episode 58: The Tournament Begins! The wind in this scene is shown to originate from Yurui’s jutsu.

The bubblegum pop emits a wind blast, throwing Boruto back. The very same blast tussles Lee’s hair.

It’s an obvious gag, but not about Lee: it’s meant to convey the sheer strength that emits from Yurui’s bubbles popping. This is a common trope in anime: Character emits a powerful attack, the audience sees/feels the “force” from the fallout wind. 

The audience now knows that there are some stakes to Yurui unleashing his gum-based jutsu, because the force of the blast not only throws Boruto back, but can also reach a good distance away to where the proctor, Rock Lee, was standing. 

Further Explanation: It’s also fairly obvious that Boruto (and Ikemoto’s style) deviate from Kishimoto’s, so we should expect some variation in character appearances outside of the expected “age-up” factor.

Here are some original renditions of Lee with his hair (flying) up and his younger self’s hairline:

In Part I, we see that Lee’s hair falls into a widow’s peak. Then, in concept art for the Naruto: The Last, we see a far less defined peak—in fact, the hairline is decidedly square-shaped.

Then, finally, in the Boruto animation, Lee’s hair is almost circular (but also shown from an extremely tilted perspective.)

So we see a distinct transition in the actual SHAPE of Lee’s hairline in conjunction with the evolution of SP/Kishi/Ikemoto’s style. A story written over at least 17 years and spanning over three different series has a change in style? More likely than you think.

Conclusion: It’s a change in the animation style and a throwaway gag aimed at emphasizing the fallout wind from Yurui’s jutsu. Nothing more.

I rest my case, Pumpkin OUT!

[yeollieayheehoo]

Circles

Authors note: This is my very first request! “ can i request a taehyung and reader angst? it can be whatever you want it to be, i just want some good ole angsty angst. “ Thanks anon. One angst for you 

Summary: This is never easy, losing a life. 

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader (female)

Genre: angst

Rating:  PG

Warnings: explicit language, mention of life loss, miscarriage, 

Word Count: 2.1K

The lights are too bright.

The walls are too white, and the room practically glows around you. You can’t help but wonder if it’s the remnants of the souls that have died in this room, finding the sheetrock a reasonable substitute to shine their light, their bodies failing them.

You wonder if your child will find their way back to this room, or if they will find another room in this hospital to illuminate.

Beside you your husband answers the nurse’s questions, your voice failing you. Your husbands’ hand is tight in yours, his tan skin seeming darker than usual against yours, which has turned white too. You hope that you will join this room also, when your body too fails you.

You can hear the nurse say she’ll be back, and you close your eyes, unable to look at the orbs that spin in front of your eyes. Your husband presses a kiss to the back of your hand, tells you he’s going to call his mother, and leaves you alone in the room with the last three hours running through your head.

 “What do you want for lunch?” Taehyung places his left hand on your hip, clasping his right hand with your left and sways from side to side, grinning brightly at you, pleased with his impromptu dance in your living room.

“Cheese sticks.”

“Cheese sticks, huh?” You giggle as he spins you, imagining the music in his head and leading you to an unknown beat. “Oooh, and a milkshake. God I could kill for a vanilla milkshake right now.”

“Murder is still illegal my love, but I could probably do something about the milkshake and cheese sticks.” You hum in consideration as your free hand slides it’s way from his shoulder to play with the hair kissing the nape of his neck. “Does it count as murder if you’re pregnant? Because the tiny human in me is the one demanding, thus the one responsible for the murderous need for a milkshake.”

“I love when your lawyer comes out.” Taehyungs voice is teasing as he leans forward and presses his lips softly against yours. He puts the hand he’s holding over his shoulder before letting his fall to your waist, pads of his thumbs rubbing small circles into the skin of your stomach.

The doorbell interrupts your moment and you cant help but smile at Taehyungs pout as you pull away. “It’s open! You don’t have to ring every time you come over Joonie.”

“After the time I found you two procreating, I’ll ring, thanks though.” Namjoon walks through your door with both hands full of bags. “Did Christmas come early this year?”

“For you? No. For the tiny human invading your womb right now? Absolutely.”

“You know, the two of you could refer to that tiny human as our baby. That is a thing.” Taehyung moves, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. His fingers are splayed across your stomach, where they’ve been unable to stay away for more than a few hours since you told him the news of your pregnancy.

“Yeah, but tiny human is cuter than baby.” Namjoon shrugs as he sets the shopping bags down on your living room table and settles in the chair that’s dubbed as his.

“He has a point.” Taehyung sighs and kisses your cheek before pulling away and grabbing his keys from the kitchen counter. “Cheese sticks and a vanilla milkshake, anything else?”

“Just for you to come home safely.” You smile sweetly at your husband and pull him by his hand back to you, kissing him gently. He hums against your lips before stepping back and moving to the door. “Always my love. I’ll be back.” He leaves with a backwards shout of love and you turn your attention to your best friend when the door closes. “What is all of this?”

“I know you don’t know what you’re having yet, but I figured whatever you don’t need you could save for the next kid. It’s not like it’ll go out of style, I have great tastes obviously.” Namjoon gestures to himself and laughs before leaning forward. “But seriously, I figured you could just put the boy clothes away until you have a boy, or vice versa.” You ruffle Namjoons’ hair before ignoring the couch and sitting on the floor, reaching for one of the bags in front of you.

He’s gone all out. It takes you thirty minutes to sort through the clothes Namjoon has bought, splitting them by gender and then by age range. You’re finishing folding the last pair of jeans for the boy pile when your phone rings and you’re quick to your feet to grab it as Taehyungs’ ringtone echoes in your kitchen. It ends before you can get to it and as you go to redial, Namjoons’ hands catch your elbows as your knees give out beneath you.

“We need to get you to the hospital.” The room spins as he speaks and his voice sounds garbled, like he’s miles away from you instead of three inches. You drop your phone as you press the heels of your palms against your eyes, shaking your head. “I-I’m okay. It’s just a dizzy spell.”

“Y/N, you’re bleeding.” This, you hear perfectly, words spinning around in your mind as the world slows down. Your eyes dart to the spot you were sitting at on the floor, the bright red stain almost puddling against your light brown hardwood floor. You follow the drips that stop at your current location, red trail marking its way down the legs of your jeans.

“I can’t, that’s not..” You stumble over your words as your mind tries to process what’s happening. You can feel the color drain from your face as your breath quickens and the walls of your home close in on you. Namjoons’ hand is hot against your back, almost too hot as shock settles into your bones and you realize what’s happening as Taehyung walks in through the front door.

“Y/N?!” You can hear the panic in his voice as he rushes over, all but throwing the food you’d asked for on the table. “I’m going to start the car. She needs to go to the hospital.” Taehyungs hands replace Namjoons’ and you find that your body is stiff as he pulls you against him. “I’m going to carry you, put your arms around my neck.”

“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…” Apologies pour from your mouth before you can stop them, body on autopilot as Taehyung lifts you bridal style and holds you to his chest. “Shhh, it’s okay. You have nothing to apologize for.” His voice is soft against your hair as he carries you to the car, instructing Namjoon to grab your purse from the coat rack as he goes to close the door.

Taehyung shuffles into the back seat with you, keeping his fingers laced with yours as Namjoon speeds through traffic, weaving in and out of cars, ignoring the horns that come his way. Your mind races as you try to remember if there was a warning, if there was a pain, something you ignored, but nothing throws itself at you. All you can think of are the piles of clothes you folded and the warmth of Taehyungs hands against your stomach.

 Everything turns to a blur by the time you get to the ER and you’re no longer sure if this is reality or some cruel joke your mind has decided to play on you. Your body trembles, though from the blood loss or the actual temperature of the mid-day fall breeze you don’t know. It’s not until you’re loaded on a stretcher and wheeled through the waiting room that your body goes numb, senses shot into over drive, and the laughter of the little girl you pass who’s sitting with her mother makes your mind shut down as you pass through the double doors of an operating room.

 “Y/N? Can you hear me?” You’re pulled from the memory of cold steel pressed against your skin and back into the too white room, Taehyungs’ eyes wide with worry.

“What did I do wrong?” Your voice finally breaks, bottom lip quivering as the dam breaks. “What did I do? I’m sorry Tae, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I killed our baby.”

Your husband is quick to climb into the hospital bed with you, careful to avoid the wires of your IV. His hands are warm when he pulls you to his chest as your body trembles, sobs racking through your being as you hide your face against his shirt. “You didn’t, my love. You didn’t kill our baby, you didn’t do anything wrong. It just wasn’t time, the world wasn’t ready for them yet. It’ll be okay, we’ll be okay.”

 You don’t say anything as you’re discharged, Taehyung listening carefully as the doctor explains what you can and cannot do, taking the list that’s offered to him. Namjoons’ tired face greets you in the waiting room, giving your hand a squeeze as he says nothing, opening the car door for you as Taehyung pushes you in the wheelchair to the back seat. It smells like lemon and you know that Namjoon has spent the hours you were in hell trying to clean.

The ride back home feels like a nightmare. The sun has set and the moon struggles to shine through the overcast of clouds and you know all too well what that feels like.

Your home has the same lemon scent, and you find yourself grateful this time for it. The living room table is empty, not how you left it and you furrow your brows. “Where are all of the clothes?” Your voice is scratchy, throat raw.

“I put them away…I didn’t think you’d want to look at them.” Namjoon regards you warily, rubbing his hand across the back of his neck as you glare at the once full table. “Take them back, get a refund for them.”

“We can talk about it later, you need to rest.” Taehyung hand is gentle against your elbow, a stark contrast from the way you pull away from him violently. “I don’t want to talk about it later. There’s nothing to talk about. They’re just going to go to waste. Get your money back Namjoon.”

“Keep them.”

“For what? To save for later? There won’t be a later. I’m done. I can’t do that again. I refuse.” You can feel the tears before they well in your tear ducts, the tingling sensation climbing from your cheeks and up your nose. “You heard what she said Taehyung. A twenty five percent chance to make it to full term. Twenty-five. That means three out of four tries are going to end up right back here and I can’t go through that. I can’t sit here and try again just to feel the life we made together die inside me.” Your voice cracks at the last word, and you stumble back against the couch as your legs give out from under you. Taehyung rushes towards you, kneeling down in front of you as you bury your face in your palms.

“We don’t have to talk about this right now. We aren’t going to talk about this right now. “

“Just leave me alone. Please.”

“You don’t need to be alone right now.”

“For fucks’ sake, just leave me the fuck alone!” You don’t mean to yell, don’t mean to be this angry, don’t mean to take it out on your best friend or husband, but you do. When it’s clear that neither of them are going to move, you do, finding solace in the bathtub of your extra bathroom.

 It’s hours before Taehyung knocks on the door, silently stepping into the room and sitting in the bathtub across from you, knees touching yours as he plays with your fingers. You don’t know how long the two of you stay like this, the silence growing into something ugly, coating the walls and turning the air around you heavy. “You need to eat.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Y/N-“

“I meant what I said Taehyung. I’m not trying again. If you want kids, have them with someone else.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes. I do.” Taehyungs hands stop moving against yours because he knows. He knows you’re serious, knows you’ve made up your mind. If he’s learned anything in the last two years it’s that you don’t go back on your decisions. He sighs as he leans his head back against the shower wall, feeling defeated because he knows.

He knows you’re done.

[umbillicalnoose]

i think that you would think im pretty and would like my poetry and i want to share it with you. im shy.

to be honest, im very apathetic these days. im not the nice “cutesy baby flower petal boy” i used to be. a lot has happened & im bitter & sullen & all in all, a pretty shitty friend/person to know. i used to possess some redeeming qualities, believe it or not, even if they were construed by the subconscious in an attempt to be likeable - a facade, even tho its only a facade, is still tangible, still there, is still something, even if not authentic. is poorer character forgivable in the name of presenting more authentically? but nah. that makes it sound like im putting effort into being a better person, which im not. im just sort of fried & done. its been a very long time since i played the role i built for myself on here of the “small fawn boy who wants to help girls” lmaooo. how embarrassing. altho, i was just a kid, & i guess, if you had a tumblr as a teenager, you went thru some cringe (i know the use of that word has fallen in on itself & adopted its own definition but for lack of a better one) ass phases, whether it was kinning or malingering mental illness or oh fucking christ, all that gender bullshit, etc etc. from what ive observed, tho, loosely following kids im still casually friends with that i met on here, i think we’ve all managed to Grow The Fuck Up, at least a little. most of us have jobs or r in school or have partners - growing up & moving on is a very surreal experience to watch/go thru. im moving at my own pace & ive accepted that - im still currently using & starving myself & concocting a suicide plan every day but at least i use clean needles as much as possible, i actively & honestly do strive for the bare minimum calorically, & um able to work with the mentality of “well ill have this when i need it but todays not that day” a lot more readily, in relation to suicide shit. ive finally found a therapist who Really Gets It, is a frontrunner internationally on ritual & extreme abuse & mind control. its pretty incredible what a few years with a good therapist can do. anyways. im sorry, i know you didnt ask for all this & im not even sure why i divulged. i guess, what tipped me off, was your attempt at sounsing “cute” - dude, cut that shit out, i promise youll be a lot better off. & i know everyone interchanges aspects of their personality based on who theyre talking to/who they percieve themselves to be talking to, but i feel like not a lot of people give enough credence to the internet & its hand in shaping/molding young people, kids, vulnerable dumbasses, especially tumblr (tho, i get that its a relatively new phenomenon) - u get a bunch of the “weird”, “alternative”, ““ostracized” kids together on a website, of course its gonna nurture a culture of hypervalidatoon & pretending to be sick in order to fit in to the point that its not an act anymore & exacerbation of symptoms & basically, just sucking each others dicks, sitting in ur own shit, & never ending coddling. & then, you have the older group of kids, who have played this game before but instead of helping or ignoring the Dumbshit kids, they indulge their own normally-buried-but-unleashed-by-internet-anonymity sadism/human instinct to just be fucking dicks & so now you have this vicious cycle of anger & hatred & fucking melodrama up the urethra. im sorry, i know im comig off as/am being harsh but god fuckin dammit yknow? also, this isnt directed at you, specifically, more of a generalized thing, @ myself included. so uh. i mean, if u still wanna share it with me after reading all this, id be happy to read ur poetry. i used to be over the top nice & then reverted to Major Asshole & am now trying to find that sweet middle spot - honoring & allowing myself to share my pain without putting it on others. which is really hard!! cuz becoming a Dick was difficult in that it forced me to be more honest with my true self & as such, more vulnerable - now in trying to become Kinda Nice again because despite being a pulsating scrotom, ive had the intense desire for friendship & human interaction, while simultaneously doing things that i was consciously aware was pushing others away - but then, if i pretend to be nice, where does that authenticity i worked for & was so scared of go? & i dont mean telling someone their new haircut looks nice even when it doesnt - thats just not being a dick. but i guess, those r the normal trials & tribulations of any relationship & adolescent developing identity. which is weird too - dealing with “normal” issues, i mean. whats the point if your life/limbs/breaking point arent at risk? whats the point when your best friends already dead. im sick of people calling "survivors” (despise that word, so fucking female-originated & overdramatic) “brave” & “strong” - surviving is not brave or strong. its just survival. you wouldnt call an animal brave for running for its life from a predator but you would call a dog courageous for going into a burning building to save its owner. premeditated action on the notion that you are probably going to be hurt is brave. being subjected to pain with no choice is not. theres no “silver lining” or anything “good” to be drawn from it either - sure it may have made x a more compassionate person or made y more introspective & gentle but you know what would have been even fucking better??? if the shit hadnt happened in the first place! let x be an asshole & y be self absorbed - the “benefits”, so to speak, do not outweigh the cost, not by a long fucking shot. its not only patronizing to hear garbage like that, but a slap in the face to know that anyone could possibly see anything good coming from that nightmare & that the characteristics, good or bad, you developed either in response to or as a result of, are worth praise. dont tell me im strong for doing what i had to to escape a torture chamber - tell me im perseverant for studying my ass off & passing that test last week. in the words of one of my dearest & most fucking brilliant friends, “pain doesnt owe me/you purpose - the need to intellectualize & assign meaning to pain & death is not only futile, but harmful.” & honestly, i think that it stems from weakness (in most cases - i realize theres a plethora of other reasons such as those who r just desperate for something to hold on to or r hyperintellectual & analytical or who have been pressured by external “support” systems to find the “good” etc etc) - while the majority of people view the person who “can find the good in everything” (strictly speaking only in relation to trauma/tragedy here & more in denunciation of those that celebrate this trait as opposed to vilifying “survivors” who respond this way, though in my experience, its very very very rarely the “survivor” that perpetrates this ideology ) as strong, i sort of see it as a weakness - their inability to sit with & absorb their own pain or that of others is so strong that not only do they have to frantically pull rainbows out of the teeth of a meat cleaver, they also have to exist within this strange (tho, not malicious - more subconscious) superiority complex. like, nah, dude, some times shit is just awful. you cant tell me anything fucking good came out of a four year old girl being kidnapped, gangraped, & tortured for two years, before being impaled & left to die on a stake. her mom opened a non profit organization? oh well thank fucking god for that!!! those that believe the latter to be more “enlightened” or whatever the fuck r the same people who say shit like “dying is easy - living is harder” & i get that that its supposed to be interpreted metaphorically for the most part - giving up is easy, trying isnt (which also.....isnt true??? admitting defeat & fully accepting the fact that ur fucking helpless is beyond hard lmao???) - but pretend youre somewhere, anywhere outside ur sunny little fucking yoga studio full of white women whos biggest issues r the pta & johnny whos failing math, & lets say your life is in real, imminent danger, a gun is to your head & i want you to not scream or cry or beg for ur life since dying is “easier”. if dying is so easy, why do the majority of ppl cling to it with such desperation - why is suicide illegal? why do some ppl go thru 100s of chemo treatments even tho the doctors say theyre just prolonging the inevitable, ppl who cut off a diseased arm so it wont spread, those who walk dozens of miles every day for food & water, etc? & i know & understand the survival instinct better than anyone, even when i wanted to die more than anything, my natural instincts would kick in with no conscious neural input & id do what i had to do. im not condemning those who cling to life (ok - a little. ur wasting resources out of ur own fear. but i also realize thats just me being a Fucking Asshole As Always cuz technically, im doing the same thing tho its more due to lack of opportunity rather than fear. i just think, societally, death should be more normalized, discussed, & not made out to be so unknown & scary), instead just reprimanding those who say shit like that (inspirational facebook quotes). especially cuz most of the ppl who do spew that shit have never gone thru anything even remotely difficult - their worst nightmare is a Big Scary Black Man grabbing them on the street, mugging them, & touching their tits. & i also know that these stupid ass sayings are to be applied to bullshit like exercise & fitness (“no pain no gain” is another one of my Favorites) & not fucking torture or even just ur run of the mill rape, even that would probably smash the rose tinted banana republic shades off their beverly hills tanned faces. but ive heard the no pain no gain one a handful of times in the last few weeks, specifically from doctors performing procedures in preparation for my bottom surgery. & i know its supposed to be encouraging & they have no way of knowing, but its just like, buddy, u have no idea who youre fucking talking to. & im starting to understand what THEY mean when they say it - pain with a reward is infinitely more tolerable than pain just for the sake of pain; like, a tattoo, it hurts, but u know, when its done, its gonna be sick as fuck. when u r able to fall back on the idea that its for something u rlly want, its A Lot easier to handle as opposed to pain thats Just Pain - theres no reward for it except, i guess, that the more u experience it, the closer u r to the end of it lmao. i mean, i still hate when ppl say it cuz for most of my life, pain was just pain, & the “reward” was the opportunity to go home at the end & so whenever ppl say that, my mind just immediately resorts back to that & im just like haha fuck u. but im trying to remember my experiences r definitely not universal & im starting to sorta understand what they mean i think. but, flipping gears here, & going back to the sentiment of “everything happens for a reason”, the base philosophy of psuedo deep Fuckwads - a girls dad didnt fuck her “for a reason”, everything doesnt happen “for a reason”. like ok, hypothetically, the kid he impregnated her with & that she was forced to have at 12 may surpass all odds & not become a homeless junkie & instead become a world renowned doctor who finds the cure for cancer. but she wasnt raped repeatedly from the age of six for that “reason”, no matter what anyone says & honestly, the liberation of the masses does not justify the suffering of one, especially a child. in my eyes at least. but again, im a bitter asshole. sorry i just Went The Fuck Off here oh my god.....if u read all this, thanks, pal. if not, thats cool too. but yea, send me ur stuff, id totally be down to read it. as for me potentially thinking ur cute, i have to look at my disgusting shitstain of a “face” every goddamn day so everyone else to me is fuckin aphrodite. but im also tryin to not put so much worth into physical appearance- its not something that should be complimented cuz its just smth a person was born with which is the same reason it shouldnt be insulted. this is gonna sound gay & stupid but i personally find that a persons essence & personality really permeates. you can meet someone who, objectively, isnt all that great looking, but once u get to know them, u really see their beauty - how the sun catches in their hair, their dilated pupils looking up at u from under long eyelashes in the dark, the birthmark on their right shoulder that they despise but that is so Them, the gap in their teeth, etc. & idk how to phrase this without it sounding like “well ur ugly but at least ur a good person”, cuz that only reiterates the societally indoctrinated emphasis on appearance & my kneejerk reaction to assure the person in question that thats not what im saying is only another result of that!!! its inescapable!!! but no, really, its not just a matter of “its on the inside that counts” - physically, they change or maybe, actually this is more likely, when i first meet them, my “default” eyes r just looking for features that i know im immediately attracted to (tall, blonde, sickly as in sunken eyes sticklike pale but still looks like she could & will beat the shit out of me) but as i fall in love or get to know them better, my eyes adjust & i notice & adore the beauty that was there all along. so uh. idk if ill think ur “cute”. but probably, yes, ill think ur an angel.

[hookaroo]

Vocivore, Ltd. (39 of 45?)

Also on FFN and AO3 (ListerofTardis)

Tagging @ouatwinterwhump, @killian-whump, @sancocnutclub, @killianjonesownsmyheart1, @courtorderedcake, @facesiousbutton82 <3

***THE MOST WONDERFUL, HEARTBREAKING, and BEAUTIFULLY WHUMPY COVER ART BY @cocohook38 HERE and HERE!!!!!!!!!*************

***Chapter 12 animation and art that will absolutely astound you!!!!!!!!!**********

***LETHAL Chapter 19 art in all of its BLOODSTAINED GLORY!!!!************

**POOR STABBED KILLIAN falling into the sheriff station! Ch. 7 & 23 art!!**

****KILLIAN AND HIS MASTER IN THE GORGEOUS CATHEDRAL!!!!!!!!!!!!    CHAPTER 1 ART THAT KILLS ME EVERY TIME I SEE IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*********

*CH 34 ART! A DEFEATED KILLIAN, HEAD BOWED BEFORE HIS MASTER!!*

***CH 36 ART! DETECTIVE JONES BOWS BEFORE HIS NEW MASTER!!!!!!***

***AAAAHHHH!!! THANK YOU MY WONDERFUL COCONUT FRIEND!!!!!!***

                 (what the heck happened to the horizontal line, tumblr??)

Present (Friday, continued)…

The first siren was the most beautiful sound Jones had heard in a very long time. His sense of time had been growing increasingly fuzzy, but his estimate would have leaned toward a wait of at least an hour. Likely a gross exaggeration, but with Killian in such dire straits, and the attention-seeking behavior of his own dizzying pain, every moment had stretched to an interminable age.

Thankfully, Emma had resumed the duty of applying pressure to her husband's wounds, and Jones could take advantage of the respite to recline back against the bloodied altar. He didn’t know for sure, but he had a suspicion that fragments of the stun projectile remained in his throbbing shoulder. Emma had graciously wrapped a second bandage around the first, which seemed to be containing the bleeding for the most part, but didn't do much for the agony. All adrenaline now long gone, Jones could feel each heartbeat through the wound, and an overwhelming exhaustion pressed down upon him. More than once, he had caught himself beginning to topple sideways, close to passing out. Dizziness bordered on nausea. He could only imagine how Killian must be feeling. As far as Jones could tell, his counterpart drifted in and out of consciousness, frequently coming back with sobs of terror as he relived tortures endured, and Emma could not always soothe him easily.

Now, as the first scream of a siren echoed up to the rafters, Jones forced himself alert and struggled closer to Killian's side, knowing that Emma would want to direct the help where it was needed most. She met his gaze gratefully, squeezed Killian's knee with a murmured word of encouragement, then rose. As she jogged toward the front door, Jones listened to the labored breathing beside him and prayed that the medics weren't too late.

"In here," called Emma, one foot still inside the church. Evidently she was reluctant to leave her husband for too long. "Hurry!"

Killian whimpered and Jones lay a gentle hand on his forearm.

"Still with us, mate?"

Uniformed paramedics trooped inside, following Emma's urging, and Killian shivered, seemingly only half-aware of his surroundings. The detective managed one more reassuring squeeze before shuffling aside. He watched with hooded eyes the efficient dance of emergency medical assessment, waving off attention for his own injuries in favor of faster intervention for Killian.

The medics were quick to administer supplemental oxygen as they measured vitals and made a preliminary examination of his wounds. Emma managed level-headed answers to their questions, keeping out of their way but determined to stay by Killian's side. He seemed confused and afraid, struggling against every touch despite Emma's pleas for him to remain calm. The medic at his left side was already on her third cannula as she tried to hit a moving target. Pouches of blood and saline awaited only a reliable access to Killian's compromised circulatory system.

Emma's phone buzzed. After reading the message and typing a quick reply, she reported to no one in particular,

"Second ambulance is close. My dad’s following in his truck. He's gonna direct them in here."

One of Killian's medics seemed to be getting ready to activate a power drill into his upper arm. Jones wondered if he might be starting to hallucinate, but in response to Emma's look of confusion, the medic explained how the long bones can be just as effective at transporting drugs and fluids as peripheral veins are. "It's not overly painful," yeah right. Already woozy, Jones couldn't watch, and even Emma had to look away as the battery-powered device buzzed a stylet through skin and muscle and into the humerus. Perhaps the woman was correct; Killian didn't seem excessively bothered. He'd grown quiet and mostly still, focused on the effort of breathing. Under the mask, he almost looked like a fish out of water, gulping at air too thin to metabolize. The impression was only strengthened by the bluish-gray tinge to his skin.

This was evidently cause for concern. The activity around him doubled in calm intensity, and even Emma backpedaled to allow them more space to work. Jones was just gathering the fortitude to stretch out a comforting hand when the church door scraped open again. He had missed hearing the new ambulance come wailing up, but he could see a doubling of the whirling flashes outside.

David still had his arm in a sling, but that didn't stop him from being the first one inside.

"Emma!"

Fixated on her husband's struggles to breathe, Emma didn't seem to even hear her father's call. David urgently beckoned the new arrivals inside and started up the aisle himself. He did an impressive double take at the monstrous corpse on the floor, watching it warily as he skirted an unnecessary circle around it, then hurried to the foot of the stairs. He faced a moment of indecision when catching a glimpse of his son-in-law in the midst of the crowd of medical professionals, eventually deciding to creep up in between Emma and Jones in order to provide his daughter with moral support. Kneeling behind Emma and pulling her close against his chest, he cast a worried glance at Jones.

"Hey, partner. You okay?" he murmured, making sure to keep his voice at a level that would not disrupt critical communications elsewhere.

"Glad you could j-join us, mate," Jones gritted out, shivering painfully. The sackcloth tunic he wore certainly did not provide much warmth. He was beginning to regret having insisted Emma lay all of the blankets she'd found over Killian, especially considering that most of them were now strewn carelessly in a heap after the medics had desired better access to their patient.

David read his thoughts and reached gingerly around Emma, grasping at one of the discarded blankets nearby. Absently, Emma helped him to drag it back out of the way. The prince tore his eyes away from the frantic scene in front of him, gave Emma a comforting squeeze, then pulled away. As he spread the blanket over his quaking partner, David hissed,

"What the hell happened? What were you two even doing here?"

"Saving the world, naturally," grimaced Jones. The second band of EMTs had finally arrived, and they were trotting toward the altar, though to Jones it appeared as if they were moving in slow motion. David finished tucking the corner behind his good shoulder, leaving the fabric loose beneath the saturated bandage on the other side.

One uniformed man started to set up shop at Jones' right just as Emma turned and reached for David, her strong façade crumbling. David was forced to adjust his position in order to accommodate his wounded shoulder blade. As the prince gathered his weeping daughter in his arms, Jones could hear him whispering words of hope. He's going to be ok. They'll get him home; Whale will fix him up. People could survive a collapsed lung. And they were talking about Killian, here.

Jones heard all of this despite the other portion of his attention devoted to responding to the questions being put to him by the two EMTs assessing him. Turning his face away from the blood pressure cuff that was currently magnifying the throb in his coat-hanger-pierced forearm, Jones caught sight of what had so deeply upset Emma. Not only were the medics inserting some sort of drain in Killian's chest below the still-protruding dagger, but they were also preparing to intubate and take over his respirations with mechanical ventilation. It all looked serious and scary, but was obviously for the best, if his own efforts were ineffective.

True professionals, Jones’ medics kept their focus solely on him despite the commotion nearby. Their attempts to start an IV were barely distinguishable from the squeezing, pulsing anguish lower down his punctured forearm; Jones was just grateful they hadn't yet pulled out their bone drill to use on him. As he looked past the gurney that was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, Jones spotted the massive corpse of the Master slumped where they'd left it. And surrounding it…

“Bloody hell,” muttered the detective. Still in the dark about the situation and extremely on edge, David's head snapped up and he looked around wildly, fumbling for his gun.

"What is it? What's the matter?"

"They're over there." Jones gave a stiff nod to indicate the direction in which he was looking.

The slaves were gathering around their Master. Forming a mournful and eerie circle tribute. Or maybe it was panicked directionlessness. Even those too weak, stunned, or injured to walk were compelled to slither along the ground, inch by agonizing inch, all to be closer to the commanding presence they could no longer feel or hear. If anything were to remind the detective of a zombie horror film, the sight before him now would have been a top contender. Even more were staggering their way into the bustling church, clogging up the doorway through which additional paramedics were attempting to enter.

"Wow," grunted David, still slightly alarmed. "That's disturbing." He glanced warily back at Jones. "You're not... feeling the urge to join them, are you?"

The detective's attempt at a laugh came out more like a groan. "Not yet, mate; thank the gods. I'll let you know if I do."

"Well," said David thoughtfully, "at least it will make it easier to round them all up."

A sudden frenzy of activity distracted both men from the sight. Emma scrambled to her feet as Killian's backboard was hauled up in preparation for transport to the ambulance. She shot the briefest of glances at her father, but was already making as if to follow even before he had a chance to say,

"You go. I'll handle things here."

Just as the front doors had ground to a close behind Killian's gurney, one of Jones’ medics rose to her feet. She found a place on the altar’s façade on which to hang his bag of saline, saying,

“Okay, Mr. Jones. I know you're probably anxious to get to the hospital where you'll be more comfortable, but since you're stable for now, we are obligated to triage the rest of the scene before deciding who gets priority.”

“Understood,” Jones assured her. “I can wait.”

As she collected her remaining equipment, her partner turned to David.

“Would you mind keeping an eye on him? I'll tell you what to watch out for.”

David hesitated, looking torn. “I…” He turned stricken eyes upon Jones. “Killian, I didn't want to give Emma one more thing to worry about, but in her message she said that Hope was... safe? I didn’t see her… and who’s taking care of her right now?”

The detective gave him the best impression of a reassuring grin that he could manage under the circumstances.

“She isn’t here, mate,” replied Jones with a definite slur to his words. He could feel some kind of narcotic beginning to take effect, blurring pain and mental acuity alike. “But she is safe and being looked after; I give you my word.”

David’s teary smile was laced with confusion. “She… but then where…?”

With a deep sigh, the detective closed his eyes and rested his head back against the hard surface behind him. “I don’t believe that’s my story to tell, David. Sorry.”

He heard the medic begin to relay quiet instructions to the prince and slitted one bleary eye open to interrupt.

“If you’d rather assist with the injured slaves, I should be okay here. This thing has an alarm, doesn’t it?” Jones indicated the portable EKG currently monitoring his heart rate. David winked at him, rubbed his eyes with one hand, and settled in next to Jones.

“Nonsense. What kind of friend would I be if I left you here all alone?” He shifted his weight a bit, trying to get comfortable. “Besides, I wouldn’t be much help anyway with one arm out of commission. Bossing the medics around, I guess, but I get the feeling they don’t need my input.”

Jones gave him the barest hint of a smile before closing heavy eyelids again. “Thank you.”

For the second time in three days, Detective Jones was reminded of that lonely Seattle night, when the poison in his heart had nearly killed him. He even had the aching soreness in his chest as an additional parallel.

How much nicer it was to have a caring friend by his side while he waited!

                                (horizontal line goes here angry face)

[ironforgedrp]

hello ! ive been looking at this rp for a while now and even thought about joining but theres a problem : i dont know ANYTHING about gots :/ is it recommended to know the basic story / plot or watch the entire thing?

      hey there friend, i won’t lie it does help to have some understanding of game of thrones as it is the world we set ourselves in.    there are key aspects that you would need to know of the world of GOT/ASOIAF in the same way you would need to know general knowledge about the world; key events, battles, betrayals, religion, places, allegiances. but thankfully, that doesn’t mean you need to have seen the whole show so no, you definitely don’t have to go and watch 100s of hours of the show, or have read the books, to be able to get along here.   many of the muns here are absolute whizzes with ASOIAF/GOT lore so general questions that pop up are easily answered.   i can say that your knowledge is somewhat character-choice dependent  as some have their own family histories,  and i’ll do my best to give a summary as we go.

     IMPORTANT & HELPFUL THINGS TO NOTE***  we are both tv-show canon and book-canon divergent from around the year 300AC (approx. end of season 6), and if you do want a recap of the episodes that are short and a basic summary i would suggest checking out OZZY MAN REVIEWS (GAME OF THRONES RECAP) seasons 1-6.  keep in mind anything beyond season 7 would be somewhat irrelevant here.  each episode recap is about 5mins a piece with ten episodes per season, and you can throw them up on youtube on the side while you’re doing things if you are really set on knowing as much as possible.   isaac hempstead-wright (the actor who plays lord bran stark in the show) actually said that he would watch the ozzy man recaps before the next seasons respective press-junkets because they are very solid and easy to listen to in  the background - so it’s lead-actor approved.

      things like common knowledge of RELIGIONS (of which there are three main ones in westeros), there is the general KNOWN WORLD, you obviously don’t need to  know everything fluently or perfectly - in the same way that you personally would know of places of the world (i.e. i know of italy, but likely can��t name all the cities etc.)      westeros, where everything is set in this RP, also runs on a gender-based monarchy (the oldest male blood relative inherits their house, title, land - unless they are an infant/toddler/child, in which case a casellan [perhaps cousin, uncle] would be appointed, or the mother would rule as lady-regent, until he is of age),  save for dorne who run on  a gender-blind monarchy, meaning the eldest of any gender will inherit the lands, house, title, etc. the great houses would also be general knowledge of those in westeros, and of people from other countries who are well educated. 

    those houses  & families are the oldest houses of westeros, the most powerful and are all  appointed as guardians/wardens of their respective regions.   this map, starting from the south (bottom) to the north we have:

HOUSE MARTELL of sunspear, capitol of the region of dorne.

HOUSE TYRELL of highgarden, capitol of the region of the reach.

HOUSE BARATHEON of storms end, capitol of the region of the stormlands.

HOUSE TARGARYEN of dragonstone, capitol of the crownlands. (they rule everything save for THE RED KEEP, which is always occupied by the royal family of the iron throne, currently it is house lannister)

HOUSE LANNISTER of casterly rock, capitol of the region of the westerlands.

HOUSE TULLY of riverrun, which is the capitol of the region of the riverlands.

HOUSE ARRYN of the eyrie, which is the capitol of the region of the vale of arryn.

HOUSE GREYJOY of pyke, capitol of the region of the iron islands.

HOUSE STARK of winterfell, which is the capitol of the region of the north.

     a lot of what happens here is actually by the creation of our muns, we are set 200+ years in the future at this point so only key cultural aspects have been kept.  a similar question was asked a few days ago, and there’s a few dot points HERE that would help you as well. otherwise, our PLOT PAGE & TIMELINE page is the most important for you to read (the first two sections are relevant GOT recap specifically for people who are unfamiliar with the fandom but are interested in he RP), followed closely by the summaries of the characters you can find on the MASTERLIST.    lastly, the HOUSES pages - now that you know who he big houses are aka. the great houses of westeros, it probably won’t surprise you to know that they have smaller houses who populate their regions and are loyal to one of the great houses.   listed on the houses pages are all our taken characters sorted by their regions of loyalty and allegiance.    depending in the particular character you choose, you might benefit from a look over of that the respective wiki page/s (which we can help you with if needed) or you can pick the brains of the admins and muns for specific help.

   honestly, if you are particularly nervous - i am happy to offer my discord, and many of our muns are always happy to help answer any questions you might have, especially if those questions are about a specific family, house or region.   i know this might seem like A Lot, but please do keep in mind that we have been open for nearly two years so we have built up a lot of our own HCs and lore.   beyond knowing what i’ve summarised above, treat us like any other literate RP, because yes, ironforged is set in the world of GOT but our roleplay stands on it’s own two feet as an alternate universe.    the NAVIGATION page has a bottom category denoted as resources, which has plenty of miscellaneous helpful tips for new people to the world or even period genre.    and honestly, if you are really overwhelmed but still absolutely want to bring your muse/s here, you could easily craft a noble or royal of another country of our known world such as essos, yi ti, ulthos, lys, summer isles etc. which have far less dense history and connections, and the only details we have about them is general ethnicity or aesthetics that is listed in THIS ANSWERED QUESTION (also linked as enthicity help in the navigation page!)

    i’ve put as much information in to this as i possibly can to help with confusing you (i hope!), but our IMs are always open and same with the ask & suggestion box - so please hit us up as much as you like, it’s never a bother !

[someone-always-cares]

chapter 3, page 23

first - previous - next

[image description: an sac webcomic page. the page opens on a dimly lit 4 story apartment. its fairly plain, with a car park barely seen at the bottom, some of the balconies have furniture or plants. the only lights that can be seen are in one of the apartments, aside from some fairy lights on the neighbouring balcony.

rami and duke are walking along, duke leading the way, looking visibly pissed at rami, who is happily rambling on, flapping his hands. hes surrounded by a few blurry speech bubbles, only one of which is readable. “And that’s why, despire only having flight powers, moon striker could win a fight against all her team.” he then puts a hand to his face, questioning “although this would change is split second had a home base thing? like a home alone type scenario.”

“would you shut up already?” duke turns to him, still annoyed. he turns back to a red door at the side of the building and opens it. “we’re here.”. rami looks deflated as he looks avoids looking at duke. “why are we going through the fire door?”.

“there’s... less people” duke says as he walks through the fire door, not bothering to hold it open. rami follows, concerned. end id]

we’re back baby! had some technical difficulties, thought i lost 2 months work but it was just? saved in a weird place by the repair guys. also had a hell of a time getting this font back. pros: i can now add type apostraphies and not have to manually add then via drawing them, as ive been doing for every page. fun behind the scenes fact

cons: i had the template for the font maker saved and filled out, but the place i got that from changed their templte and i had to fuck around for hours to get that to work and now some of the letters were wonky since they were drawn for the first template not the current one

thanks for your patience!

bonus bc my friend said they read panel 2 like the ariel needs legs comic:

[image description: panel two with rami flapping his hands and rmabling to an annoyed duke, but his speech bubble has been changed to “however flareon is the only fully evolved fire type pokemon that cannot learn solarbeam” end id]

[michelles-garden-of-evil]

Episode 1 Review, Part II: Jacques’ Vintage 1630s Wedding Party

I meant to post this on Halloween, but this post took much longer than expected and I was too tired from work yesterday to write. So happy belated Halloween to anyone who is reading this and I hope that you find it interesting.

In my review of Episode 1, I wrote that I wanted to analyze the flashback from the episode in a separate post “because, despite being only a minute and a half long, there is a lot to unpack and I want to critique the costumes in addition to analyzing the content.” I am publishing this a little later than I originally intended (as the first part of this review took longer than I expected to write), but I don’t think that anyone minds.

Unlike the more famous Gothic soap opera Dark Shadows, which ran extended flashback arcs that lasted months, the flashbacks on Strange Paradise all lasted only a scene each and were infrequent. Maljardin had only three (although Ian Martin had planned at least one more (spoilers)), and the first half of Desmond Hall had none. Desmond Hall Part II had a lot, but none of them were costumed if the screencap slideshows I’ve seen from them are any indication. (I haven’t seen any episodes from 131 onward yet save some short clips, because I don’t currently have access to them. I have, however, read the synopses of 131 through 160 on this website and 161 through 195 on this old Yahoo! Group and looked at all the screencaps I could find, so I’m at least familiar with what happens and what the characters look like in the final arc.)

So let’s look at the first flashback, shall we?

Flashback

The flashback opens at a ball on Maljardin at some point in the late 1680s, with Jacques drinking from a huge red goblet while cheesy fake harpsichord music plays in the background. “Zounds, mon cher Jacques des Mondes,” a man in a beard and very obvious wig teases, “you are a poor chevalier! You marry a young beauty like this, but stand off in a corner drinking by yourself. That’s damned unchivalrous!” (I was about to write, “He might have said ‘monsieur‘ and probably meant to, but the guy’s French pronunciation is so bad that he honestly could have said either one.” However, I just pulled up the script to this scene* and discovered that he does indeed say “mon cher.” So I was right the first time.)

Madame Huaco des Mondes and Bad Wig Guy.

“And unromantic,” Madame des Mondes (Patricia Collins) adds, fluttering the feather fan she is holding despite Jacques obviously not paying attention to her. According to Episode 6, her first name is Huaco and the original draft of the script that I linked to in the last paragraph indicates that she “might be an Inca princess.” (The first two Paperback Library novels confirm this. while the third mistakenly calls her an Aztec princess.) Presumably, this means that she is of Inca royal blood and would have been a princess had the Spanish not defeated the Inca Empire in 1572, more than a century earlier. Or, alternatively, it could mean that Chevalier of Worlds Jacques traveled back in time to marry her, perhaps using the des Mondes family’s magical clock that is mentioned in a later episode.** There is also the possibility of a critical research failure on the writer’s part, but I love this show in spite of all its glaring flaws and so I want to try to justify this blatant anachronism.

Jacques--who is still clearly uninterested--approaches her and kisses her hand. “You do me wrong, my pigeon,” he says, comparing her to the likes of Speckled Jim. “To question your husband’s devotion?”

The newlyweds. Huaco looks really pretty in this shot, and Jacques is dashing as always.

“How could I not, when my eyes see your eyes on every woman in the room?” I’m not sure who talks like this. Presumably it sounds more natural in Huaco’s mother tongue. Either way, this is the first indication that Jacques is a womanizer.

“To compare, my dove,” he responds insincerely. “Your loveliness. So far above theirs.”

“Is it then my turn to bed?” she asks, grinning widely in a questionable acting decision that pushes this flashback to David Wells levels of so-bad-it’s-goodness. How many women has he bedded already on what is presumably their wedding night? Or before, to her knowledge?

Jacques, however, has other ideas: “First, let me show you the cliff heights at sunset,” he says, leading her outside. “And then my undying love.” This is followed by Bad Wig Guy laughing about the bed being in the other direction (when Jacques clearly said that he was going to show her the cliffs first), then the close-up of his smouldering face from the last entry, which seems to imply that he at least was contemplating pushing her from the cliff. I, however, doubt that he pushed her that day, considering that Bad Wig Guy’s dialogue implies that he just got married and that this is his wedding ball, and, by the time of the next flashback, Huaco (who is still alive then) has given birth to Jacques’ heir.

Costumes

Ever since I watched this show for the first time, I have wanted to take the flashbacks from Episodes 1, 6, and 20 and give them the Frock Flicks treatment. I’ve even thought about requesting a real Frock Flicks review of the flashbacks, but I fear that they’d judge the show too harshly, especially given the complete absence of the late 17th-century full-bottomed wigs they love so much. I, on the other hand, find full-bottomed wigs ugly, so I don’t mind their absence. In fact, I don’t really mind the absence of anything even remotely resembling what a French nobleman like Jacques Eloi des Mondes would have actually worn in the 1680s, because I’m not fond of most men’s fashions from the Louis XIV period.*** (If you are fond of them, good for you! There’s nothing wrong with liking periwigs or anything else that was fashionable in the Louis XIV era; they’re just not my taste. I prefer men’s styles with no/more naturalistic wigs and a broad-shouldered/narrow-waisted silhouette.) Nevertheless, I shall try to review the costumes as objectively as possible--and I shall try to keep it brief, because the amount of time I have already spent writing about Episode 1 alone has gotten me seriously questioning my life choices.

In late 17th-century France, fashionable dress for men consisted of a long coat called the justaucorps which reached to around knee length, a vest of equal length underneath, silk stockings, a lace cravat tied at the throat (sometimes with a ribbon to hold it in place), and an enormous long, curled periwig which, from 1675 until the 1690s, increasingly featured curls piled high on the crown of the head. Judging by this series of engravings of Louis XIV, who set the fashions of the era, noblemen’s justaucorps cuffs were often huge with voluminous shirt sleeves underneath. If you want more images of real 1680s men’s fashion, see this gallery on Kipar.org or this category and its subcategories on Wikimedia Commons.

Obviously, this style bears little resemblance to the clothes that Jacques and Bad Wig Guy wear, which are clearly patterned after styles from their grandparents’ generation. They most closely resemble the clothing popular in France in the 1630s, particularly post-1633 when Cardinal Richelieu passed an edict outlawing excessive decoration. (Source: Tom Tierney, Jacobean and Early Bourbon Fashions, p. 31.) Compare their outfits to that of Henri II de Guise (the grandson of that Duc de Guise) or this unnamed courtier. Obviously, there are some differences, most notably the higher waistline and the sleeve openings on Jacques’ doublet being on the outside of the sleeves instead of the inner seams like they are in every painting I’ve seen from this era. Jacques also has a massive baldric (the belt over his shoulder, which noblemen of the era used to hold their swords) compared to the men in the period images linked to above. But the aesthetic overall is very 1630s-esque, and it may be that Jacques and his friends are into 1630s vintage. ;)

From Episode 20, carefully cropped to avoid spoilers. Jacques’ baldric is much wider and his waistline a few inches lower than that of Henri II de Guise or the courtier in the Bosse engraving. For some reason, he wears a baldric but not a sword, which is weird.

As for their hairstyles, they are not historically accurate. Jacques’ hairstyle is just a messier version of Jean Paul’s 1960s combover and not 17th century at all. Bad Wig Guy’s bad wig is about the right length for the 1620s (see here and here), but not curly enough. It goes without saying that neither one resembles a late 17th century periwig in the least. (Thank the Great Serpent! *makes wavy hand motions in air*)  Bad Wig Guy’s beard is a very early 17th century style that I associate with King Henri IV of France, who died in 1610. It is also very much not the aesthetic of the Louis XIV period, when most men either shaved or wore a small mustache.

The best screencap I could get of Huaco’s dress.

Huaco’s outfit also bears little resemblance to 1680s French women’s dresses. In that period, fashionable French noblewomen wore dresses called manteaux that were cut in one piece (as opposed to as a separate bodice and skirt) over petticoats and conical corsets designed to push up their breasts. Necklines were low-cut and did not have collars, in contrast to styles in the first half of the century. (Source) In the late 1670s, Louis XIV’s mistress the Duchesse de Fontanges invented the fontange, a style that consisted of curls piled on top of the forehead and topped with a distinctive ruffled headdress. Here is a good engraving showing the style. See also this gallery on Kipar.org and this one on WIkimedia Commons.

The most noticeable differences between Huaco’s dress and the actual fashions of 1689 are (1) the lace collar and (2) the separate bodice and skirt, with tabs on the bodice. Both of these are more characteristic of English styles from earlier in the century, particularly circa 1630-1640. Compare the screencap of her dress above to this 1632 painting of Queen Henrietta Maria of England and her daughter Mary’s dress in this 1640 portrait (no tabs, but otherwise very similar). Also, I don’t think that she is wearing a 17th-century-style corset underneath, because her torso is not a rigid conical shape and her breasts are in their natural position. So, in short, more vintage 1630s for Madame des Mondes.

Her hairstyle is...fascinating, to say the least. It appears to consist of a bouffant decorated with large faux pearls and white ribbons and/or strings of more faux pearls, with tight curls around her face, pigtails resting on her shoulders and some loose hair hanging from the back of the bouffant. The decoration may have been inspired by images of early fontange hairstyles like the one from 1682-83 in the center of the first row on this page, but it does not resemble the more common fontange look. While there are some examples of beehive-like hairstyles in 17th century paintings with a similar shape (take Anne of Denmark for example, or the Spanish lady in this Velázquez painting), they are from much earlier in the century and don’t involve pigtails. Her makeup is definitely 1960s and not even close to any authentic 17th-century European looks, which rarely used noticeable eye makeup.

The best view that I could get of her hairstyle.

I think that Huaco’s bouffant may have been intended to imitate a head shape created by artificial cranial deformation, which the Incas practiced at least until the Spanish outlawed the practice in 1585. (More evidence, perhaps, for my “Jacques traveled back in time to marry Huaco” theory?) Alternatively, she could just have a bouffant because the pilot was filmed in the 1960s and TV shows and movies back then tended to put bouffants on characters in inappropriate historical periods. But I like my theory better, so I’m sticking with it.

In conclusion, the costumes in the flashback are a loose hodgepodge of styles from the early to mid-17th century, with some elements that are not from the period such as Jacques’ and Huaco’s hairstyles and Huaco’s makeup. I’m not certain whether the costume designer knew or cared that the styles weren’t even remotely accurate to the 1680s. Even so, I am only slightly ashamed to admit that I prefer this loose adaptation of 1630s men’s fashion to the styles that Jacques would more likely have actually worn were he a real person in 1689.

With this post, I am done writing about Episode 1, save perhaps to post more screencaps. My post about Episode 2 should be up sometime next week.

Notes

* This link is part of a series of webpages comparing the original draft of the pilot script to the final screenplay for Episode 1. Bryan Gruszka, the author of StrangeParadise.net, has some interesting commentary about it.

** Episode 60, to be exact (which was written by Cornelius Crane). Why the writers never did anything with the magical clock idea is beyond me.

***Now I feel like a hypocrite for making fun of the men’s “Elizabethan” costumes on A Discovery of Witches on my other blog for the lack of ruffs and trunk hose, when I have less of a problem with the historically inaccurate costuming on Strange Paradise. (Still, there is a huge difference between a modern high-budget drama based on novels written by a professional historian and a low-budget soap from the 1960s hastily thrown together to compete with Dark Shadows. One expects historical accuracy from the former but not the latter.) While Colin Fox probably would have still looked cute in a full-bottomed wig and 1680s justaucorps, I prefer his vintage 1630s(-esque) outfit.

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