#edgar allan poe references

[phantom-of-the-ruckus]

Once upon a Midnight Dreary Chapter 3

Tw: mentions of murder, violence, grief, insanity, and other dark subjects

Also this takes place around the 1800s, so be aware that some of the reactions are implied to be typical of the period. This does NOT reflect my perspective on mental health. Note: A bit of a tamer chapter. Not particularly my favorite, but it's to estabish more the setting.

Chapter 4 will be the introduction of Daisy and Nick. I am working on chapter 5

I will wait a bit for the poll to get more votes. I didn't intend it to make it a week, but it was the only option I had. I will eventually post it on AO3 soon

Previous chapter:

Next chapter

Library

Chapter 3: Interrogatory

My arrival at the psychiatric institution has become a blur of memories. It was ironic as I swore not to forget my first day, as it was a source of my deep hatred and revenge against the man who convinced everyone I was mad. I suppose that my tired brain decided to remember the hatred and pain I felt. I could recall being forced down to a stranded bed and being forced fed raw eyes, or it was something like that. The only thing that came to mind was being unable to throw up.

That was only a spoon of the misery I would be forced to live with…

The rest of my days were quite similar, due to the established routine by Dr. Gubberson himself. I would wake up in the middle of the night hearing the bells that announced my parents dead, being forced down to bed by the doctors and knock out until morning came. Then, I would be dragged by the doctors for examination, being force down some bitter medicine before eating whatever cardboard flavored mess they served me as my daily meals. Finally, I would be left inside a cold room, isolated. According to the doctors this would help me out to calm down. 

Only a fool would bite up that tale. I was sure that they placed me there to desperately break off my spirits until I complied and behaved accordingly to how they wished for me to behave. I learned to become a better liar and an actress. A good manipulator, in fact. I learned to adapt my behavior to become pleasant towards the doctors to force their defenses up. I became excellent at becoming mindless and swallowing down my rage every time I was referred to as a murderess. 

It was not an easy task to learn. My arms were swollen with bruises, and my wrists were purple due to the straight jacket, and the daily pushes from the doctors. I was rarely allowed to shower, and if so it would be in a humiliating manner that I refuse to address; but you can let your mind wander off at how monstrous I look. I was the embodiment of a mad woman, but I was stable as ever…

My parents memories were the main thing that kept me pretty much sane from my tortuous mornings. A reminder that I was not to be called mad. 

“She has become much tamer than once she initially arrived, Dr. Gubberson.” I remember how the doctors used to practice their speeches. Those fools, they were thinking they could fix what wasn’t even broken to begin it. Hearing them gloat was an utterly entertaining way to keep me in check. Knowing that I was sane was something I strive to maintain, just to imagine the faces of those idiots once they realized they wasted their time.

“She has regained some weight and no longer hisses at us!” The fools gloated. 

“I am sure the Captain would thank me for helping the wretched Ruckus girl to get her height straight!” I could simply smirk. Savoring my victory once I was able to prove my innocence. Getting please and starting to like the idea of a subtle revenge.

Oh yes, acting up as a little virus in their pathetic system. Getting at their weakest point and strike, but that was simply the seed of vengeance starting to slowly grow. It wouldn’t flourish until much later. 

This was my routine for the next two months, until summer came. I was starting to bore the doctors with my good behavior. I wasn’t exactly doing or exhibiting any sign of improvement besides my usual behavior. So, I was started to be left longer at that empty isolated room. Alone with my own thoughts as the doctors were trying to figure out what to do next. I suppose that they eventually realized I was merely adapting to their hostile behavior or that I haven't broken completely. Either way, their attempts to break me were fruitless, as they only grew little by little my desire to get my vengeance. 

Eventually, they decided to “attempt” to make me talk about a crime I did not commit just a week after the Captain that supported Dr. Gubberson, became a Commander. I did not care about this change, as it would be eventually shorted lived and I would perhaps have an involvement in.

A bloody involvement…one that lasted d around 7 nights of seeing the Captain rest.

“So, the damozel refused to say a word?” I remember hearing the captain speak from afar the day of his first visit. I believe he was speaking with Dr. Gubberson or one of his doctors. I could not tell as the other voice was almost like a whisper. The captain continued after a long brief of silence, where the person he was talking to finished speaking. “Well, it is not surprising at all. The only thing she ever talk once we met was that she was not insane.”

There was a brief silence from the Captain. Probably the other gent speaking. 

“Very well. I’ll do my best to make her talk.” The captain said. “They won’t last long before they break. Late Commander Breadstone would tell ya.”

There was a moment of silence before some laughs ran from the room. The Captain's laugh was strong, so strong as it was the most recognizable one I could hear. So, that was the only information I knew so far, as when I was taken by the doctors to some interrogation room, only the captain was there. There was no other sign or hint he was talking to Dr. Gubberson, so that’s only my major speculation.

“Ah Riley Anne Ruckus.” The captain greeted me. I did not respond but stared. It was my way of defiance, showing that I was not afraid of the idiot. He proceeded to ignore my silence and remarked. “I am not sure whether you look better or worse than I first saw you at the Ruckus’ manor.”

I was silent as ever. Not taking slightly any attempt at being hilarious or crude as serious.

“I’ve heard that you have become tamer or so it seems.” The captain said. “God only knows what is going into your messed up ill-head. At least…you have become quieter, and less defensive.”

I simply stared at him expressionless. Staring right into his eyes, telling him he wasn’t worth my time. He simply tapped the table with his fingers, becoming slightly annoyed at my silence. 

“So…you want to pretend to be mute. How adorable.” The captain huffed. He leaned towards me before gripping my chin. His fingers pressed her almost as he intended to break it. “I am sure you can talk, Riley. Don’t force me to make you permanently mute…”

I knew he was only trying to threaten me. He knew my confession was worth it. I could tell he wanted me to submit to his threats and confess I was a murderer. I simply stared defiantly into his eyes, ignoring the blood dripping from my lips.

I remember the hand of the captain trembling. He was starting to hesitate. 

“Release her now, sir!” One of the doctors ordered. The old man stared at him unimpressed. His hand did not leave my chin, not for a second. The doctor continued, this tine his tone become darker. “Dr. Gubberson will not tolerate the use of violence against one of our patients. He will not allow you to return or speak with Miss Ruckus if you break any bone or cause any injury to her.”

With that warning, the captain released my chin. I refrained from smirking at my small victory. 

“Very well.” The captain hissed. He stared at me furiously. “I suppose that I must find alternate ways to make you talk, don’t you? 

This was how I eventually learned about what happened to my home. After the captain’s death, the other policemen continued with his example. None succeeded, but they fed the fury that kept me alive…

“The bank took your inheritance from your parents.” He muttered with a sly grin. I remained calmed as I could, and refuse to give in into his attempts at provoking my anger. “The bank donated the money to the police force to their investigation of your father’s murder. So, you are peniless, Miss Ruckus.”

This came out to be a lie. I would eventually learn that after the will was handed to me. Sadly, that was the only lie told…

“Money is not up your interest? Ummm, perhaps I should talk about what happened to your parent's belongings.”  It was then when I slightly trembled. He took this as a sign to continue. “Your father’s clothes were sold to some rich folks along with your mother’s dresses. Her wedding dress was sold the highest, probably shredded to pieces by some seamstress.”

The dress my mother promised that I would have when I got married…the one my father fondly kept in his room and stare ever since she died….

I only took my pain as nutrients for my growing seed of vengeance. The captain continued on. “We Also sold your father’s books. All of them in fact. We thought you wouldn’t need them.”

The books my father collected throughout his life, and the ones we used to read when I was a little girl sitting on his lap. The ones that decorated the beautiful library of his study…

“You no longer have your beloved manor…” That was the last attempt he made. I forced myself not to cry. There was no use into giving any sort of weak feeling or emotion that could give an advantage of the cruel captain. As much as it pained me to hear how my parent’s legacy was slowly destroyed, there was nothing I could do myself.

The manor was eventually destroyed after the police gathered as much as they could for their investigation. Majority of our stuff was sold, even majority of our family paintings, and my mother’s collection of taxidermy over the years. One painting did remain, thankfully, but this is something that does far into my tragic story.

That was a long day. A tiresome interrogatory I went through. It was the first one to come, but certainly not the last. The captain would eventually visit me every single day, mentioning details, showing family values that were sold or gifted to charity. He was becoming desperate to make me shed a tear or break. I could listen to his heart beating louder, and louder. 

Sometimes I felt it underneath the ground, but I was so very gentle and cautious not to show I was well aware of that.

Eventually the Doctors and nurses themselves became tired and irritated with the lack of progress. Word eventually reached Dr. Gubberson himself. He momentarily cut out the Captains visits into twice a week, and demanded my treatment to change. That was the end of my straight jacket and being locked, isolated in a cold room. I was allowed to look more presentable myself and start to interact more among with the other prisoners of this hell.

According to Dr. Gubberson, I was no longer a threat. I was still mad as ever as ill, but he believed I would feel more comfortable to speak if I started to have interactions. That was the beginning of how I met two important people into my particular bitter tale:

Nicholas Nathaniel Nack and Daisy Charlene Danger.

[cutetanuki-chan]

they're everything to me

song 'Four Friends' from 'Ghost quartet'

[raccoonwxrks]

Every trick in the book 📖👀

[cryptid-gore-arts]

i drew ranpoe for my birthday (dont worry he gets his hug later)

Commissions!

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

“How can I describe him? I have seen him twenty times and each time he was a different person; even he himself said to me on one occasion: “I no longer know who I am. I cannot recognize myself in the mirror.” Certainly, he was a great actor, and possessed a marvellous faculty for disguising himself. Without the slightest effort, he could adopt the voice, gestures, and mannerisms of another person.”

~The Arrest of Arsène Lupin by Maurice Leblanc

Moments of calm Nothing left to be found A mirror right in front of me That's where I find An empty glass Reflecting the sad truth It's telling words not to be told I need the mask I'm a shape-shifter at Poe's masquerade Hiding both face and mind, all free for you to draw I'm a shape-shifter chained down to my core Please don't take off my mask, my place to hide

~Beneath the Mask from Persona 5

“‘Why,’ said he, ‘why should I retain a definite form and feature? Why not avoid the danger of a personality that is ever the same? My actions will serve to identify me… So much the better if no one can ever say with absolute certainty: There is Arsène Lupin! The essential point is that the public may be able to refer to my work and say, without fear of mistake: Arsène Lupin did that!’”

~The Arrest of Arsène Lupin by Maurice Leblanc

[lukiechino]

A Dream Within A Dream

| Spencer Reid x Reader |

“O God! Can I not grasp

Them with a tighter clasp?

O God! can I not save,

One from the pitiless wave?”

— “A Dream Within A Dream”, Edgar Allen Poe

Y/n laid awake in bed, staring at the slip of paper in her hand. She tried to let her roommate’s earth-shaking snoring lure her into a merciful sleep, but with the paper and the thought of the delightful stranger she had met that night fresh in her mind, it was impossible.

Her mind overflowed with thoughts of the date she asked him on and what she would wear. But even more so, the thought that she held the coupon that he had quickly scribbled his number onto in her hand filled her mind with thoughts of late night talks and good morning calls that she always dreamt of having.

Y/n looked at the cardigan that was draped over the chair in front of her desk, remembering the moment he gave it too her. They were standing at the door of his apartment building, and Y/n awkwardly held the coupon he gave to her. She a short, sleeveless, sequence dress that her friend lent her had left her wrapping her arms around her for warmth. She awkwardly waved at him, but he hesitated at the entrance of the building. He quickly tugged off his cardigan and awkwardly slipped it over Y/n’s shoulder.

Neither of them knew what to say or do next, but Y/n managed to ask him out to coffee. Then, just before he entered his building, Y/n remembered neither of them had introduced themselves, even though they talked at the bar for what felt like an hour.

“Dr. Spencer Reid,” Y/n whispered, staring at the paper. She grabbed her phone off her nightstand, turning it on. She quickly made the number into a new contact and stuffed the coupon into her nightstand’s drawer.

In a decision fueled by the confidence from lack of sleep, Y/n clicked call. She shot up as her phone rang loudly, and she hurried to turn it down.

Y/n hurried out of her and her roommates shared room, and into the living room. She placed the phone against her ear, listening as her phone rang. There was the click of the other end picking up, and Y/n broke out into a smile as she heard Spencer’s hesitant voice.

“Y/n?” He said. Then she realized that she just called this guy she barely knew at midnight, for no reason.

“Yeah, sorry, I don’t know why I called,” she rambled out quickly, pacing the length of her dining room table. “I…sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” Y/n said, prepared to hang up.

“It’s alright, I couldn’t sleep anyway,” he said, making Y/n’s finger pause on the hang-up button. She sat on the couch staring up at the ceiling as she held the phone to her ear. “Remember what we were talking about at the bar?” He asked. Of course she remembered, how could she forget?

The night turned sour for Y/n after her group of friends ditched her at a bar, with plans to go to a party nearby. But as she settled in at the bar, she found the guy next to her was reading a compilation of Edgar Allen Poe writings. Y/n excitedly struck up a conversation, which continued until a group of rowdy college kids infiltrated the bar.

“I finished reading Annabelle Lee,” he said.

“Ooo, how was it?” Y/n asked. It was one of her favorites—and it was actually the first poem of Poe’s she ever read.

“Still like the Raven more,” he said with a chuckle, and Y/n groaned dramatically.

“C’mon, the longing, the romance, the despair…” Y/n sighed. “Y’know what, the angels did not send a cold gust of wind to chill and kill Annabelle Lee for you to compare them to a talking Raven,” she said, getting Spencer to chuckle on the other end. “How about A Dream within a Dream, read that one yet?”

“I did, and it might actually be my favorite.”

“Phew, I don’t think I could handle any more disrespect to far superior stories,” Y/n said with a grin. Y/n closed her eyes to take in a breath. “The ending, it’s too beautifully written. The despair in every word reminds me of the empty feeling I get when I finish some eye-opening movie.” The doorbell rang as she finished talking. Y/n stared at the door upside down, praying it wasn’t family. But just in case she ended the call with, “Let me call you right back.”

The next morning, Gabby, Y/n’s roommate, woke up to an empty house. She looked around for Y/n, but found no signs she had been there at all since the night before. Nothing, except, for a crumbled up coupon with a phone number, and thin red cardigan that was thrown over her chair.

[degenerateshinji]

i like them. they're cool.

[scrimblyscrorblo]

Lil Poe and Mary doodles, also that’s what she looks like in the present timeline, married to Percy Shelley

I think when these two reconnect they’re just gushing over their respective lovers, they’ve mellowed out just a little (I wholeheartedly believe they’re terrifying tho like)(they’re a parallel and contrast to Ranpo and Yosano to me)

[twink-with-an-agenda]

I don't think I've ever seen this connection drawn, but I'm pretty damn sure the Ninth House prayer references The Sleeper by Edgar Allan Poe - wouldn't be surprised at all, since Muir already explicitly references another poem of his, Annabel Lee.

All of The Sleeper has heavy Alecto vibes, but this stanza stood out to me in particular.

[phantom-of-the-ruckus]

Once upon a midnight dreary CH2

Tw: mentions of murder, violence, grief, insanity, and other dark subjects

Also this takes place around the 1800s, so be aware that some of the reactions are implied to be typical of the period. This does NOT reflect my perspective on mental health.

Previous chapter

Next Chapter:

Library

Chapter 2: Ill-fated

Morning came like a dead bird falling from a tree. My eyes were weary, and were decorated with dark circles. I sleep nothing the night of my father’s murder, and very well refused to not avail the following nights before his arrival. I was disheartened, and stressed. There was no word from the police, and my father’s study was locked for investigation. Only my father’s chambers and garden remained intact temporarily, but I was advise not to touch any of his belongings for possible clues. So, I became accustomed to sit and simply stare at the memories I had but could never touch. 

“There she is once again…” I could hear one of the maid muttered. Kathy, I believe was her name. She was pleasant but wasn’t the type to chat. “All she does is sit there and stare at a rusty old shelf. She barely refuses to come out or eat something!”

“Now, now. You better give her patience, Katherine.” I remember the soothing voice of Olive said. She was the youngest of the maids. She seemingly understood me. It was a tragedy that tuberculosis took her young. “Mistress Ruckus lost her father a week ago. Not to mention we lost Mistress Dora in December as well, just two months ago. It is obvious that our remaining Mistress from the Ruckus family would wish to mourn!”

I pretended not to hear their voices, as the ringing of the bells faded as the days went by…

“Olive, you haven’t lived for decades attending the family or helping late Mistress Dora raise her daughter!” I could hear Kathy growl from the distance. Olive sighed. “I know that you like Mistress Ruckus, but I would not let that child starve herself to death! I could not-”

Her words came short. It was then when the police intruded into the manor. This time they were not alone. I did not move or made any sound. Eventually Kathy dragged me as I bounced as a petite drag doll. She was muttering all sort of things like:

“She refuses to sleep” 

or “She won’t go out for a walk or read her books”, 

and “She has barely eaten anything!”

The gentlemen, or if you could even call them gentle, tried to reassure her and the other maids that I would be alright; but the way the gripped me said otherwise…

“Nothin’ to fear, m’am! She’ll be in good hands” I remember the captain being the one who said that. He was an old white man, with hair that was slowly drifting out of his head. His presence disgusted me although he tried to be as polite, which was quite artificial as a matter of fact. 

I was not surprised that his patience was just as fake as his politeness when he forced me down the strapped bed….but…that is another part of the story. Order gives me the power to keep my emotions in check…

Anyways, I was taken to the dinner room by the captain whose last name I never bothered to remember. He was all the same as his army, a buffoon thinking greater of himself, believing himself as a fortunate man to be the place where he was. Not caring about the consequences of his vile actions, not that he would enable a small seed of vengeance upon me. 

However, I would be mixing the delicate timeline in my head, but do know that I would eventually want a cold revenge that the captain would be the first victim to taste…

“Katherine was not lying when she mentioned she was growing paler and thinner.” That was the first thing I heard when I entered the dinner room. There were three peculiar man dressed in robes. My heart began to pound widely, as I recognized them as doctors. Psychiatrists to be exact, just as the ones that my late mother used to work with. 

I remember I was avoidant of the men gazes. I had no fear, but I was rather discomforted by their presence, specially the oldest man staring right at me…

“Is she alright? She looks as if the cat ate her tongue.” One of the doctors asked. His voice was graved, I sadly can’t recall who it was…

“According to the maids and housekeepers, she has been quite reserved of herself lately.” It was the captain who explained on my behalf. Based on his tone, I was sure he was sneering…

“An avoidant gaze, just as I suspected it.” That was the first time I heard him talk. He was smallest one, and the oldest among the men on the table. His hair was black as coal with some strands of silver from aging, and his eyes were full of dark circles. The most notorious aspect of his appearance was the scars among his face, and his vulture eye that made his tiresome but yet cold stare so fierce. It was like a sharp knife cutting through my skin…

My blood boils and yet I quivered every time when I made memory of those cold eyes, and the way they penetrated against me almost like a pang to my chest. The feeling still remains every time I remember the vulturous stare of Dr. Gubberson….

 I remember vividly that there was a long pause from Dr. Gubberson after his first comment. He sat silently, as his cold eyes laid upon me, examining whatever thing this “genius man” would find. There was tension, as the men were waiting for his answer.

He eventually spoke, in his slow, raspy voice that looked as if he was whispering…

“Yes. Her health clearly has decline from the past few days, such a tragedy for such lovely damozel indeed.” He ever so gently spoke as he rose from his chair. He stood next to me as the gents in the room stared at us. My eyes were rested upon the man next to me. I was intrigued and quite annoyed at what “remarkable” comment he was ought to make. 

“As you can see, gents, her lips are breaking and turning into an unlikely shade of purple. Evident sign that she’s not drinking enough water.” There were some murmurs within the men in the room. I forced myself to stand still and huffed at the obvious remarks as the so-called “Doctor” followed. “Not to mention her defined and sharpen cheekbones are not part of her structure. She has been trying to starve herself for quite some time. Do tell me, Commander Breadstone, has any of the maids mentioned some strange behavior prior to Dr. Ruckus murder?”

“According to the chef, late Dr. Ruckus never left the table until Riley finished her plate.” The commander spoke. He was a man much older and less gentle-like the captain, yet he was the only reasonable man around. “According to her, Dr. Ruckus noticed his daughter lost her appetite since December….around the time they Nurse Ruckus...”

It was partially true. The sadness of my mother’s passing made it hard for me to eat, however my late father stayed because I didn’t wish to eat alone….It was a private request between us. I wanted to spend every time I could in the fear he would be taken soon. A fear that became a reality in a February…

“No wonder why she’s been trying to kill herself slowly!” Dr. Gubberson commented. “She has gone mad. Quite mad in fact to the point that she’s been starving herself!”

“I AM NOT MAD!” It was then when I lost my temper. All eyes were upon me as my chest raised and fell along the pace of my accelerated heart. A grave mistake of mine, that I eventually came to regret as it further Dr. Gubberson “points”

“Now she decides to speak. Clearly a sign to defend her stance that she was not insane. She’s simply trying to deceive us.” Dr. Gubberson commented. I bit my lip, fighting the urge to slap the grin off his ugly tiresome face…

“Perhaps you are upsetting just her, Dr.” It was the commander Breadstone who spoke with evident skepticism. Dr. Gubberson frowned at the older man. Nonetheless, the commander continued. “Can’t you see this young damozel has been greatly traumatized by her father’s murder?”

“A murder that SHE committed in a state of madness, may I have to remind you?” Dr. Gubberson remarked. My skin went white as I could fear my breath shortening. 

I was being accused of a murder I would rather die than committed. And that was simply the beginning of hell…

“We cannot be so sure about this!” Commander Breadstone intervened. “All we know it was that she was the poor wretched soul that found him dead, covered in his blood while she wailed in agony.”

“Precisely!” Dr. Gubberson slapped the tabled with immerse fury. The gents yelped in surprised while Commander Breadstone’s face furrowed into a deep scowl. “It was a wail of regret! A murder out of madness, solitude!”

“I…I couldn’t murder my father!” I remember crying. My voice broke as tears ran down my face. I was feeling drowsy. Possible signs of a vertigo. 

“Now…now my child…” I remember Dr. Gubberson trying to soothe me. His hands gripping my back and waist. My body tensed as I could feel nausea…Perhaps it was the disgustingly close the wicked man was, or was it the fact that I was not feeding myself properly. Either way, he continued ignoring my evident discomfort. “A lovely damozel, tormented by her own demons. A deep dark force that drives her insane every night. Torments her, frightens her, and fascinates her with spoken terrors. Nightmares, of her parents tragedies. A tragedy that she felt she was destined to follow. To perish just as her mother did…”

My ears winced in every word he whispered as the gents muttered among themselves. I was feeling weaker by the second, as the heinous raven spoke. I could only beg him  “Please…be quiet. I cannot hear it no more.”

“It would be alright soon. This tragedy will end” Dr. Gubberson spoken. He tried to gently almost as if he was a father, but that was my breaking point

“DON’T YOU EVER DARE TO TOUCH ME!” It was a cry of pain rather than frustration as I pushed the doctor as hard as my weak body would allow me. Everyone gasped in disgust.

“This is exactly what I mean! A lovely damozel, indeed, a remarkable resemblance to late mother, shame that she’s ill-tempered and…quite frankly with a savagery attitude.” Dr. Gubberson remarked with a hiss while he retrieved his hands. He brushed his coat to straighten it after my push. 

“She had a history of being quite defensive according to the maids.” One of the officers commented.

“Madness, I am afraid.” One of the doctors spoke.

“I am not mad!” I protested. This time my voice becoming raspier, almost like a growl.

“Silence!” The captain spoke. “ Commander Breadstone, we have seen enough. It is clear that she has lost her damn mind She’s mad, certainly mad. The creature must be institutionalized immediately before she could commit any more harm to herself or anyone in this manor!”

“Are you certain, Captain?” Commander Breadstone asked. “Don’t any of you realized that this could be a resemblance of provoking a wild creature to fight?”

“She’s not well, and it would be dangerous for anyone, even herself, if we let her go.” One of the doctors protested. Commander Breadstone became quiet. It appeared that he agree in that aspect…

“Very well…”Commander Breadstone sighed. “Riley Anne Ruckus shall be taken to Dr. Gubberson’s psychiatric center. However, I refuse to close the investigation until further prove that she was the culprit.”

“But, Commander-” Dr. Gubberson try to protest.

“As long as I live, Gubberson, I’ll keep the case open…” The Commander Breadstone hissed. He would eventually die of cardiac arrest two days after

Dr. Gubberson scowled while the captain and the other gents nodded. Only the commander truly believed my innocence. 

“Dismissed!” The Commander announced before retiring from the room.

 I could already hear the bells from the carriages, the last ones I heard after my father was taken from afar. Before I could even protest, Dr. Gubberson’s doctors took a hold of me and forced me into a straight jacket, bruising me in the process. The bells started to become louder as they dragged me to the carriage, silencing my screams and pleads that I was innocent. 

I could hear the bells.The bells, bells, bells that would be the cacophony of my sleep…

[atthelakes13]

Everyday you learn something new.. 🥲😭

[justcallmesakira]

GUYS I STG I BE SEEING A bSD REFERENCE EVERYWHERE HELP

[fishy006]

there’s something about bsd fics written by people who have read and enjoyed classics (usually the irl version of the characters) that hits different

[the-ineffable-queer]

Happy 215th birthday to Edgar Allan Poe!

Shall we celebrate with a bit of sherry wine? Perhaps amontillado? I have a cask of it in my basement, if you'd just follow me.

No, please, do disregard the stones. I've been doing some... renovations. And the chains? They are... irrelevant.

[odetojupiter]

nathaniel’s birthday being 19th of jan, which is the same birthday as edgar allan poe, the eponym of edgar allan university, the place neil was sold to.

edgar allan’s wife was called virginia, EAU is based in west virginia. poe and virginia lived in baltimore, but often moved between there philadelphia and new york. poe died in baltimore.

like neil, poe’s mother was english. his father was american. he could speak french, and some sources say he had passable knowledge of german too. he was abused by his father.

the night before he died, poe is said to have called out the name ‘reynolds’ repeatedly. he died of alcohol poisoning.

and of course, the obvious - the ravens at EAU, edgar allan poe’s most famous poem being The Raven, and their stadium is called evermore, a play on nevermore

quoth the raven nevermore