#i'm fixated and making it everyone else's problem

[vargdottern]

guys i've officially got my stepdad hooked on good omens. i'm so excited to see his reaction to s2's ending

[willczek-art]

Canttt draw but it's not like that ever stopped me before

[mogamuncher]

Heeey I'm back! It's finally time for the full Cakeverse analysis gang!

Ok, so, for a refresher:

There's the Forks, the Cakes and the Plates (normal people), and it goes like this:

Plates are just normal people, the majority of the world population, nothing new here.

Forks: Can't taste and sometimes can't smell either, sometimes they used be able to taste but lost it with age; either way, they can only ever taste cakes.

Cakes: Basically normal people except that they're delicious, everything from them (flesh, tears, saliva, etc) tastes like cake (or other foods if you want). You can't tell who's a cake or not unless you're a Fork that's tasting them in some way.

Now, I have to add some stuff that's really interesting and that the og author said, that we'll be getting into today.

• Forks go absolutely bat shit insane when they taste the Cakes most of the time, that can lead to a lot of things, cannibalism, sex, or (if you're cultured) both.

• Both Cakes and Forks suffer from their own societal plights. Cakes die a lot, and Forks when discovered are instantly pinned as murderers, criminals and perverts, even if they haven't done anything wrong yet.

• Cakes can derail a Fork's entire life, and Forks are like sin and temptation to Cakes.

Now, I want to talk about these because they absolutely fucking vexed me and now I want to make this all of y'all's problem.

「The First Taste」

It's essentially a common rule as said by the author that the Forks go insane after feeling the taste of a Cake, now, let's talk about: Why?

See, Cakeverse is technically an Au based from the likes of Omegaverse, which you can see by the structure being similar to Alpha/Beta/Omega with the three types of people out there. But, in ABO the Alphas going insane is due to a specific event, heats, which are there specifically for reproduction and are said to bring out animal instincts out of people's control, while Forks are based on simply taste, food, and not something as biological.

Of course it's up to the individual writer to an extent, but my interpretation of why Forks lose it when they taste Cakes is more psychological when compared to Alphas in the Omegaverse.

Imagine that you are completely unable to see color, never once have you seen one, you grew up hearing all about how wonderful colors are, you saw others compliment the colors of several works of art, you heard all about the colors of the world around you, but all that you see is beige and grey. Now, imagine that one day you bump into someone, and suddenly you're able to see all the colors, for the first time ever in your life, you can finally experience blue skies and green grass, you can see the same way the rest of the world sees, something that was fundamentally missing from you is finally gifted to you by this stranger on a silver tray.

You're finally complete.

That's the reality of what Forks go through, years of eating tasteless food, seeing people enjoy food wholeheartedly and rant about the tastes, hearing about the differences between expensive food and cheap food, and then suddenly finally tasting cake. Of course they go insane and fixate on it, it's like the final puzzle piece finally sliding into place, something that they've been missing this whole time being manifested with only a taste.

Before, eating was a chore, something simply to survive there was no joy in it, no fun to be found in desserts or snacks, but with only a single kiss the Fork finally feels what it is like to crave food, to want food for the taste.

Cakeverse in nature is oddly psychological, playing with the concept of taking away something extremely core to the human experience, taste. It's inherent and everyone has it, you'd probably feel like a freak of nature if you didn't have something while everyone else has, right?

That's what Cakes bring Forks; normalcy, joy and purpose, it's basically like a shot of endorphins all at once straight into your bloodstream, there's a good chance it'd hit like a truck and fuck you up majorly.

Forks acting rashly probably looks different than when Alphas do the same, because the motive is inherently different, but the desperation is arguably more raw.

A lot can be written on what that reaction would be:

Immediately trying to taste the Cake (kissing, licking, biting), trying to play cool only to strike later (potential kidnapping, manipulation, planning and scheming in general), the Fork can try to resist temptation or maybe the Cake can notice the extreme reaction and run away, maybe the Cake can instigate and bait the Fork to take a bite.

It could lead to fluff, to relationships starting, relationships ending, it could smut, it could be gory cannibalism, hell, it could be both.

Either way, the sheer amount of character study that could be made out of this tidbit alone is insane, and the story concepts don't stop there!

「We Do, In Fact, Live In a Society」

Cakes don't know who they are until it's too late, but I can imagine that in society they'd be treated with a lot of extra care if they are known beforehand, as they are constantly in risk of dying.

Imagine that they'd also be majorly babyfied, the "nooo poor babies that can't do anything wrong, poor helpless and weak Cakes, they clearly can't take care of themselves, they're so vulnerable, don't worry I'll speak for you to protect your honor" would be insane. Any Cake that consensually and willingly gets with a Fork will be doubted if they truly wanted to do it, think nosy people pulling them aside to ask if they're ok and pressing to see if they're abused, think people immediately thinking that Cakes can't consent to anything with a Fork on principle despite them being grown adults.

Online discourse would definitely have people saying "Cakes are minor coded" or some shit, mark my words.

While Forks would be instantly persecuted for everything. Because of something they didn't choose, that was inherited at birth, they now are fully seem as murderers, kidnappers, rapists and just the lowest of the low. People will gossip, people will get defensive, people will cower any time you slightly raise your voice, you're seen as a predator, treated no different than a wild bear. To society at large, you're an unruly dog, and all eyes will be on you forever, watching, waiting for the day that you take a bite.

In a sense, it's almost like any Forks that do commit crimes instantly have a justification to do so, it's expected, really, you're a Fork, of course you'd snap one day. It's both maligned and normalized, everyone expects it and it almost gives Forks a reason to do so. Forever a self fulfilling prophecy.

Now I'm sorry that I'll keep bringing the Omegaverse up, it's just that it's really handy for comparison, but I find it fascinating that in a way, the societal effects of this are a mish mesh of the societal views seen in ABO, but like, in a way that doesn't make me want to vomit.

Can I be so fr with you guys right now? I don't like the societal parts of the Omegaverse, ever since I was a kid in the early hay days of the internet, that always made me uncomfortable, and it's also a bit lazy in a way. The problems in society with the Omegaverse are basically just Sexism, it's misogyny with mpreg, and a lot of fics end up feeling like a Handmaiden's Tale with mpreg. Replace Alphas with men and Omegas with Women and you get the Omegaverse, though it gets a bit interesting since there technically is a built-in "fuck or die" and aphrodisiac system with heats/ruts, but very few writers do something interesting with it.

My problem is that it's always either uncomfortable or outright boring, very little fics do it well and most of the time authors simply choose to side step it altogether, which I completely understand and actually prefer at this point.

I bring all this up because Cakeverse actually brings a lot of interesting concepts up in it's consequences on the world at large, the nature of Forks and Cakes mirrors a lot of real life concepts, but leaves enough fantastical elements that there's still intrigue in what could be explored and seem from authors writing certain details of it.

Would there be Cake support groups? Would there be Fork rights activists? Would there be people who are both Forks and Cakes, like a hybrid type? What are different relationship types seen as in the eyes of society as a whole?

It's all so complicated and the problems are different between the both of them, also, they're evenly split, which is a breath of fresh air.

Now, it's time to get even deeper into this, what are exactly Forks and Cakes relationship with each other like?

「Would You Still Love Me If I Was Cake?」

According to the author, Cakes can derail a Fork's life and Forks are temptation to Cakes. Now, why is that?

Imagine you're a Fork, living your life trying to do what you can with what's been handed to you, probably being discriminated against if you haven't been able to hide it well, when suddenly you taste someone (kiss or by accident, like a shared water bottle), and next thing you know you lose your mind. Your entire world falls apart, thoughts of dreams, future, your own sense of morality, it all melts away like sugar in water because you just experienced heaven and now it's all you can think about.

Someone completely normal beforehand, suddenly driven to obsession with just one moment, an entire life detailed into the unknown because they just had a taste of cake, thoughts being all about one person and their taste, the inability to stop even you're desperate to do so. It's madness, and almost like a tragedy, doomed by their own personal narrative of Fork meets Cake, the Forks turns into a starving beast whether they want to or not.

But Cakes? Imagine you have someone you love, and they want you so badly it drives them mad, imagine kissing the same lips that want to be stained with your taste, imagine putting yourself in the way of jaws that any of these days can close down on you and swallow you whole. You're constantly in contact with someone that could just straight up eat you, consume you whole and leave nothing behind, but your heart aches for them, you present yourself in a silver platter again and again.

Maybe you want to be eaten, to be consumed. Maybe you like being wanted, maybe you enjoy providing something to to others, you made them so happy that it doesn't even matter to you that they are taking chunks out of you, you'll gladly let yourself be torn apart if it means someone else is satisfied.

It's all about the usage of "Cannibalism as a Metaphor for Love™", it's all about loving someone but constantly wanting to eat them into non-existence, it's about to struggle between your brain heart and stomach.

It's about having your cake and eating it too.

The themes, the metaphors, the opportunities are endless and frankly I'm driving myself insane just imagining all of it, the angst also would be utterly fucking insane, imagine you live someone and you eat them, wouldn't you be upset? You loved them and you killed them yourself, with your own hands, their taste is on your lips and you licked your plate clean.

I'm screaming and crying and throwing up as we speak, the number of things you can do here are endless, soooo. . . Let's talk about some of my ideas!

「All My Fanfiction Titles Are Just Songs」

Last post I basically tagged a bunch of fandoms that I wish would use this trope (I'll also be doing that with this post), so now I'm going to showing some of the ideas I had for this AU that I might or might not write in the future, all of which you guys are totally free to use as prompts as well (just tag me on them lmao)

So, going ship by ship:

「Loveit」: Dead Plate fanfic, Vincent x Rody, Fork!Vincent and Cake!Rody. I imagine that the moment Vincent finds out is during the Best Served Hot ending, after biting Rody's ear, his reaction would show instantly on his face and Rody would notice right away. After that it can lead to a lot of things, fighting, smut and cannibalism galore, their relationship would only get more complicated after such a discovery. Hell, you can even have Vincent find out earlier, if you truly want more juicy drama, maybe Vincent will attempt to make Rody into the meal instead of Mason this time? For funsies you could even reverse it, Rody as a Fork would be fascinating to see, him bonding with Vincent that he also can't taste anything, only for him to find out later that he can taste Vincent himself, holy shit the intrigue.

「Eat You」: Death Note, Lawlight, Fork!Light and Cake!L. Imagine Light both having to hide the fact that he's Kira, but also having to hide the fact that he's a Fork, imagine the never leaving stain that being a Fork would be on his own self-perception of perfection, imagine the so called god that punishes criminals also being considered a criminal by default in society's eyes if he's ever found out. Kira selling out his own kind because most criminals would likely be Forks (whether they were rightfully convicted or not), and then comes in L, a detective, a nuisance, Light's equal and a Cake. Maybe Light would find that out later on, maybe while they're playing as friends in college or while chained together, and now L had effortlessly thrown another wrench in his life yet again by default, like they're meant to be opposed by fate itself, where Kira is a Fork L is a Cake. L would likely goad Light on, trying to bait Kira out, by any means necessary, even if it means being eaten.

「Eat You Piece by Piece」: Hear me out, Batjokes. Fork!Bruce having to hold himself back from breaking his own morals due to finding out Joker is a Cake, Fork!Joker only getting deeper into his Batman obsession after tasting a Cake!Batman, Both Forks bonded by not having taste, maybe both are Forks that differ on how they react to Cakes (Joker regularly eating them while Bruce retains his morals and chooses to not hurt them), maybe both Cakes that got here because they were almost eaten (different Batman and Joker origin stories?). The opportunities are all intriguing and promptly end in bloodshed, expect angst and discussions of what is moral, also just so much angst holy shit this shit hurts.

「I Eat Boys Up」: Dungeon Meshi, Labru, Fork!Laios and Cake!Labru. I'm thinking post canon by accident, maybe something like sharing utensils, and I'm going to be so fr with you right now, this story coming from me would be a lot of romanticism through food metaphors and unending smut, feral Laios is my equivalent of heroin and I could imagine him describing Kabru's taste in detail to him while eating him out. But if smut isn't your jam, exploring how Laios and his monster obsession, especially in the form of food, as someone who can't taste would be intriguing, in a story so closely tied to food, you have to wonder how it would all change if the main character couldn't even taste. Also, I doubt Kabru would take the knowledge of him being essentially prey well, so there's that bag of worms to go into if you want.

「Blame Gluttony」: This one is purely self indulgent but like, Re:Zero with any ship, Cake! Subaru and Fork!anyone else. Imagine Subaru's world doesn't have this Cakeverse nonsense at all, but the world he's transported to has, imagine how scary it would be that one loop he suddenly finds out that he's essentially universal prey here (maybe in the second loop with Elsa), imagine the weight of all the things that already are trying to kill him along with the fact that he's also got a new thing to worry about? Maybe instead of just the rabbit loop, there's now multiple loops where Subaru is eaten alive, maybe there's loops where his dear friends themselves are eating him. Can you imagine if Emilia was a Fork? If he found out after the kiss of death and she commented on the taste of his lips as he was dying, if it came up again after their kiss, Subaru having to tackle with his love and heart belonging to someone that would one day eat him whole. Imagine the witch not longer just wants to touch his heart or kiss him, but she also bites him when he tries to tell the secret. Imagine maybe Rem is also a Fork, imagine that his death by her hands also involved her tearing into him chunk by chunk. What if Otto was a Fork, what if Reinhard was one? Seriously all the opportunities are equally traumatizing and I'm living for it!

Honorable mentions include: Persona Shuake and Shuada (Fork!Protags and Cake!Detectives) for the optimal mutual murder extravaganza, Okegom DSP Satanivlis (Fork!Ivlis and Cake!Satanick) for a rare case of role swapping, South Park Kyman (any way works tbh) for mutually assured destruction, Slay the Princess (Fork!Princess and Cake!Birb) because themes, Soukouku (Fork!Dazai and Cake!Chuuya) for making canon even worse than it already is, frankly any investigrave game would be peak here, Hannigram for obvious reasons.

But that's all I have for now, so, what have we learned here?

We learned that: I'm mentally ill and you need to write about the Cakeverse NOW.

[the-crooked-library]

The Violence of Conformity: on Queerness, Shame, and Vampirism

As we all know, and as I feel I must express again - the metaphorical layers of Nosferatu (2024) consist of several complex, frequently intersecting social themes. Some of them, admittedly, exist a story or two below the surface-level discussions; but that makes them no less influential in regards to the primary plot, and they demand the viewer's exploration just the same.

This is especially true in regards to Eggers' approach to homoeroticism. Its presence within the film itself is unsurprising - implicit, or even explicit, expressions of queerness are a hallmark of gothic (and especially vampire) media. In the case of Nosferatu, this narrative vein provides an undercurrent to almost every aspect of the story; and, because I can't stop thinking about it, I'm making it everyone else's problem.

The Hutters are queer, biting is a metaphor, details under the cut.

To begin with, I must clarify that a queer reading of Nosferatu is not an external introduction. While that lens may be applied to any narrative, given a thorough enough discussion of gender roles, sexuality, and cultural context, it has always been a natural - if sometimes unspoken - component of gothic horror. Elements of it are observable in classics like Frankenstein (Shelley), The Picture of Dorian Gray (Wilde), and even detective fiction offshoots like The Hound of Baskervilles (Doyle), etc; and within the vampire subgenre, it is practically a requirement.

That, like many other things, may be ascribed to Lord Byron and his ever-enduring cultural legacy. In the year 1819, at the Villa Diodati in Switzerland, he challenged his illustrious group of friends to each write a ghost story; and while only two achieved any sort of prominence, that much was sufficient to alter the history of the horror genre. One of these was Mary Shelley's Frankenstein; the other was The Vampyre by Dr. Polidori.* As the title suggests, it was the first Western work of fiction that featured such a monster - and, in doing so, it set the blueprint for countless others to follow. Since then, the genre has been defined by the shape of the dark, hedonistic, and dangerous Lord Ruthven, who was unmistakably modelled after Byron himself.

As a character, Ruthven is confident, dominant, manipulative - and brooding, on occasion. His interpersonal approach is defined by a sort of hypnotizing, seductive, possessive, most certainly ill-advised allure. The overall impression is devilish; and that is indeed the point. Within the thematic framework of The Vampyre, Ruthven represents temptation of all kinds. He never hesitates to indulge himself; and so, once he is bored with cards and brothels, he has no qualms about fixating his appetites on Polidori's main character, Aubrey.

Their relationship is notably homoerotic. Despite - or, perhaps, even complemented by - Polidori's amateurish style, the text demonstrates a genuine, striking sensuality between them. In 1819, this easily fell in line with the rest of Lord Ruthven's characterization; and, following The Vampyre's a rapid rise to popularity, vampirism became a shorthand for any "sinful" - or, socially forbidden - sexual expression.

Given the numerous restrictions of the time, most of which persist today to a degree, this includes not merely abusive or incestuous, but also queer, interracial, and extramarital relations - as well as anything involving kink dynamics. From Ruthven, we get Carmilla (LeFanu), Dracula (Stoker + adaptations), and even relatively recent installments like Lestat (Rice).**

The premise of Nosferatu is no exception. One of the most famous cases of copyright infringement, and a triumphant testament to the historical/preservationist value of media piracy, Murnau's 1922 silent film survives - against explicit orders of the Stoker estate; and, being the literary bastard child of Dracula himself, Orlok maintains many of the same characteristics as his predecessor.

Among these is his implicit and classically vampiric queerness. Like the rest of the film, it is amplified in 2024 - and especially prominent in the first act, in which Thomas Hutter arrives to Orlok's castle.

It is evident from his earlier characterization that Thomas is a repressive type. More so than Aubrey or Jonathan Harker, he keeps his head down, obstinately ignoring the web of fears that shape his daily existence; and it is a monster's narrative duty to expose and realize every single one.

Granted, social circumstances do play a role in this situation. Aubrey has wealth and status; Jonathan Harker has friends and a stable, loving marriage; and Thomas Hutter has neither of those things. Without the benefit of money or community, he lives within a world that is almost as restrictive as Ellen's. His personality is defined by his similarly desperate desire for respect; and his behaviour throughout the film is informed by that underlying pattern. It manifests, most prominently, as a near-compulsive, yet formulaic, adherence to social expectations. He chases after a promotion, marries, gives his wife flowers she didn't want - and, in the same breath, dismisses her "childish fantasies", not out of any malicious intent, but simply because it is supposed to be his duty as a man and husband. It is a destructive cycle of indignity and overcompensation - and I believe it is essential to acknowledge that it's motivated, in great part, by his financial insecurity. As a self-described "pauper," Thomas is anxious to prove himself to his ruthless, unforgiving society - because if he does not, he runs a very real risk of losing even the few comforts he has managed to scrape together.

This threat of destitution is an act of violence. Implicitly, constantly, in consequence of daring to exist, Thomas is being held hostage - unless he conforms.

His sojourn at Orlok's castle is, therefore, peppered with evidence of his superstitions, his social class, and his weakness. Orlok - whom he eventually finds slumbering in the dungeon, the symbolic core of the building itself - is its culmination. What Thomas sees after opening the casket is a nude man, always and never dead, who is trying to take away his wife and imprison him, like a damsel, in a castle. He is horrified; and the implication is blatant. In context with everything else, the deeply sensual, lingering brutality of Orlok's attack is symbolic of the one last thing that Thomas is repressing - and has been for so long that facing it is unthinkable. Still, he can do nothing to resist Orlok - who pushes him to annul his heterosexual marriage, subdues him, bites him; and drinks from him, night after night.

Even during daylight, Thomas fails to destroy his tormentor. In the story sense, he cannot do it because Orlok is a vampire; on the symbolic level, we understand that he cannot kill his own nature.

It goes without saying that this experience is violent; it is both grotesque and shockingly, blatantly lewd. It is traumatic. It is euphoric. It is a form of sexual assault, as far as the biting - a naturally penetrative act - is concerned; and, crucially, it is also Thomas' own repressed desire forcing him to know it. His fear and self-disgust are made flesh in Orlok. Unwanted Desire versus Unwanted Advances; it is a classic gothic paradox - and, in the end, he is unable to accept it. He flees, back to Ellen and the familiar comfort of repression.

Curiously, Ellen herself - who is also distinctly queercoded - presents a depiction of an alternate path.

Like Thomas, she begins the film rigidly repressed and doing her utmost to conform to the established heterosexual social standards. The most prominent factors behind Ellen's oppression are ableism and misogyny - both rooted in things she cannot possibly hide. Her seizures are extremely noticeable to say the least, her neurodivergence affects every conversation she has with the people around her, and all of them perceive her as a woman first and a person never. As the film goes on, it becomes increasingly clear that this emulation of a happy marriage requires constant and agonizing effort to sustain; but while she is also blatantly queercoded, and this queerness definitely contributes to the way she is treated (e.g. by Harding, who views her as a threat to his own marriage), her struggle in maintaining her union with Thomas is not necessarily rooted in a lack of sexual attraction.

The issue is, rather, its "inappropriate" manifestation. Ellen is sexually dominant. Her desires are carnal (and, as the original script implies, mildly sadistic). In a society that expects women to be both innocent and submissive, limits their financial opportunities, and threatens the nonconforming with institutionalization or abandonment, she is caged.

Unlike Thomas, she is aware of that and resents it accordingly - which is not to say that she doesn't feel overwhelming guilt in regards to her sexual inclinations. She absolutely does; and it is interesting to note here that her own pain, in this case, manifests as attacks on her husband and Anna.

This is the part of the story that actively deals with Ellen's queerness. It is evident that she has lived her entire life with the idea that such feelings themselves are sinful; her desires are already unacceptable, even within the sanctity of a heterosexual marriage - thus, actively pursuing another woman would be monstrous. In this interaction, however subtle or unspoken (and, on Anna's part, likely unrecognized), Ellen perceives herself as an aggressor. This is the reason her friend is attacked directly after they share a private, tender moment together - true to the classic gothic vampire tradition, Orlok is, consistently, the direct manifestation of Ellen's shame. He drinks from Anna's breast (the characteristic bite notably favoured by Carmilla - the original lesbian vampire); he destroys the Hardings' perfect nuclear family; and Friedrich Harding blames Ellen and her "fairy ways." Symbolically, their suffering is her punishment - both for feeling a brief moment of queer affection (guilt, fear - direct, setting-driven), and for refusing to indulge it (self-acceptance, rebellion - metaphorical, represented by Orlok).

Still, despite her fear and guilt, Ellen knows that she has done nothing wrong by following her "nature." Her queerness is inherent to her - much like her disability, or her psychic gift; and it is no accident that, among the human characters, the latter is only truly identified by the remarkably eccentric, disgraced, flamboyant, cat-loving, unmarried, bohemian Von Franz. Even though he might be better-adjusted to their surrounding society than her, he still decidedly exists on its outskirts. There is a familiarity of recognition between them, as well as the particular dynamic of a fresh and uncertain fear vs a resigned bitterness that alludes to an interaction between two different queer generations. Even as he is unable to promise her a happy ending, he confirms that she was meant for greater things than the world around them would allow; and that, in my opinion, marks a turning point.

Prior to her conversation with Von Franz, the only validation Ellen has ever received was from Orlok - which posed a moral complication. He was and is a monster, and as such, she believed him to be, fundamentally, a "deceiver." Because of this, she could not bring herself to entirely accept what he was saying; but, conveniently, Von Franz provides an alternate opinion. He stresses that her gift is not only powerful, natural, and inevitable, but also inherently beautiful and sacred.

This is a drastic shift from the way Ellen is normally perceived by humanity. The story consistently demonstrates that the other characters dismiss, infantilize, or condemn her out of turn; however, in this new philosophical context, her night of passion with Orlok - or, the city's only hope for salvation - becomes a supremely important, adult, and holy act. In a spiritual sense, it is equivalent to a marriage; and the film frames it as such.

Like a father, Von Franz gives her away. Despite his well-established monstrosity, Orlok is tender with her to the point of reverence; and she pulls him close - as unnecessary or selfish as that may be. It is, after all, a metaphor. By embracing the Vampire, Ellen embraces the physical representation of everything she had once considered ugly in herself. In regards to her queerness (as well as her psychic power/neurodivergence/disability/personhood), it is a triumphant moment of self-acceptance.

Ellen's arc therefore ends in sublimation. Meanwhile, Thomas is left behind; over the course of the film, he has been unable to let go of the structures that have directed his thinking and behaviour throughout his life - and yet, at the same time, he has also seen them fail, over and over. Knock betrays him, Sievers is out of his depth; Thomas himself cannot be a hero, and Harding - his glittering ideal - crumbles, consumed by grief and madness. The finale, therefore, leaves him on a precipice.

It is a classic moment of deliberation - epitomized, perhaps, by The Matrix (Wachowski Sisters, 1999), in its iconic "red pill/blue pill" scene. As much as the interpretation of it has been twisted over the years, the fundamental, intentional meaning of it is inherently queer; it is about weighing the danger and value of awareness against the meaningless bliss of ignorance. These narrative points are most frequently framed as a beginning - but for Thomas, that is how the movie ends.

He could return to the prison of his daily existence, repress everything he truly feels once more, and suffocate himself in a stranger's life. Before him, Ellen and Orlok depart into a "sea of fog" - an unknown, terrifying, beautiful alternative. It is a promise of freedom and a guarantee of struggle. He sees an example of what he could become, in them and in Von Franz. Their society - and ours, to a degree - is unforgiving of deviation, yes, but the story has also forced him to recognize that acquiescence is not the only option; nor is it actually enough to protect him or his loved ones. Within an oppressive society, safety is always subject to an implicit transaction; and as the finale of Nosferatu makes painfully clear - Orlok may have been in covenant with the Devil, but Harding is the one who sold his soul. The question, now, is whether or not Thomas can bring himself to ignore that.

I know what I would personally wish for him - a full and vibrant life, somewhere on the edges of polite society, that allows him to delve into the eccentricities he never knew he had. He could get into the occult himself; maybe even meet a dashing vampire hunter who would sweep him off his feet and shock his lingering sensibilities every morning (and if the man's a cowboy, even better). However, the point is that we do not know what he will do or what will happen. A life is always in flux. Regardless of our circumstances, there are still a few things we get to choose for ourselves, and a precipice is also sometimes an opportunity for a leap of faith.

I hope, most affectionately, that Thomas Hutter jumps off a cliff.

*POLIDORI - Dr. John William Polidori, who may indeed be considered the creator of the modern vampire genre, graduated from Ampleforth College in 1815 with a thesis on sleepwalking. It's not exactly relevant; but, in the context of Nosferatu, rather apt. I would've really liked to see his thoughts on it, seeing as it's such a perfect intersection.

**LESTAT - being blond, Lestat does stand out from the primary archetype in the visual sense; but the current discussion is more in the realm of personality.

[lightlycareless]

i have a headcanon that naoya loves slapping y/n ass 😭 poor girl

Hellooooo anoooon!!!! Thank you for waiting!!

Sometimes I get these very specific asks where I'm like "I haven't thought about it but am I glad this was brought up to my attention."

Thank you so much for sending this in, I really enjoy writing the perverted Naoya that kind of guides himself through his desires :) I really need to make him more debauched lol.

Anyways, here are the warnings: slight nsfw. just innuendos here and there, nothing explicit. but still, minors please don't interact.

Happy reading!!

Honestly, that is just one of his many fixations when it comes to your body, perhaps his focus solely depends on his mood that day. Sometimes it’s your chest, and sometimes your ass. But once he sets his mind into tormenting you there is no stopping him—it’s like it were physically impossible to not slap your butt. Naoya simply has to or he’ll go insane!

To which you… go along with. Most of the time, sometimes… though you enjoy the playful connotations behind his actions, you still get flustered for them! Naturally so if he always did them in front of others, even if he proclaimed to do so discreetly.

But that wasn’t the point of this at all! Far from it, actually. It all boiled down to a single question, every single time: was it really necessary for him to slap, pinch, squeeze, and fondle your ass, every minute of the day?!

For someone as debouched as Naoya, yes. And you’d do good, as everyone else, to accept this fact and move on if there was the slightest wish to accomplish anything at the estate.

Yet, as much as you loved Naoya and all his peculiarities, indulged them too as well, you’d soon reach the limit where you could no longer permit his excessive enjoyment to perturb you anymore.

Not when in the presence of innocent bystanders, and certainly not when it starts to hurt.

“Naoya!” you cry the moment his hand lands against your bottom once again, giving a loud smack that made everyone around red, quick to look away less they wished to suffer Naoya’s irrational jealousy, or your shocking frustration at the now shattered pieces of your favorite tea set. “That was—”

“Oh, oops.” He sheepishly apologizes, and if that wasn’t clear enough to prove his indifference at the whole situation, his following words did. “But I can always get you a new one.”

“That was—what is wrong with you?! That was my favorite set!! A gift from my sister!”

“Y/N, it’s just a matter of reaching out to her and asking—”

“No, you’re not going to buy your way out of this!” you interject, with a loud, clear voice that rattles Naoya for a moment, never seen you this agitated before…

“My love, truly, it was just an accident—"

“It’s not an accident if it happens all the time!”

“All the time? Just how many teapots do you think I’ve broken??”

“That’s not—You know I’m not talking about that!”

“Is that so? Well, whatever it is, you never seemed to have a problem with it before… I don’t know why it’s suddenly such a nuisance.”

“… you know what? I need some air.” And without anything else to add, you motion the nearby staff to help you clean up his mess before leaving the kitchen.

Leaving behind a distraught Naoya who didn’t take much longer than just a few seconds of analyzing your stern, disappointed tone to know he had direly messed up and subsequently, chase after you.

“Wait, Y/N—”

However, you were (surprisingly) faster to outwit him, at least until you were able to arrive to a secluded garden where you’d be able to deal with the humiliation of not only being exposed through his lewd act, but also the dismissal of your feelings.

The importance of the lovely gift your sister gave you to commemorate your marriage, relegated to a simple, playful “apology” simply because Naoya was too stubborn to admit his faults. To deal with the consequences of his actions, instead of you!

…A part of you knew this was almost silly to stress about, for you were well acquainted with this side of Naoya when you got together with him—so to suddenly proclaim otherwise would only prove foolish.

Still, it didn’t hurt any less. And at the notion of him possibly coming to insist you on how there wasn’t nothing wrong with his behavior, simply an exaggeration on your part, makes you consider spending some time apart; at least until you cool down.

But surely you weren’t expecting him to actually allow that, were you?

“Y/N, you can’t just leave like that.” Naoya says once he finally reaches you, but you do little as raise your gaze to him, still focused on the flowers before you. He insists. “Y/N—"

“Are you here to make fun of me again? Was that not enough?” you murmur, he presses his lips.

“I’m just playing, you should know that by now, princess.” He persists, followed by the feeble attempt of reaching out to you, taking a seat by your side just at the edge of the engawa… Only for you to inch away when he does.

If your sudden disappearance moments ago wasn’t enough proof of your animosity, then this heart wrenching disapproval is.

“Y/N…”

“What do you want, Naoya? How else could I probably entertain you into leaving me alone?”

“Why would you want me to leave?” He asks. “Is that not why we married? To never be apart?”

“…I recall making a vow to support one another, not ridicule. Or hurt.”

“Hurt?” Naoya repeats almost incredulously, blinking as his mind desperately attempts to recall a moment where he’d done the very same thing he swore to never do again. “When have I… I wouldn’t, Y/N.”

But you remain silent at his response, briefly giving him a look that denotes your retaliation to said announcement, your skepticism behind his confidence, before looking away once more.

You had no reason to lie about such serious matters, after all.

“… Is it because of the tea cups set?” Naturally, amongst other things. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you into dropping them; I just… well, I guess I just wanted to brighten your mood, you seemed pretty… tense.”

“Were there no other ways to do so?” you quietly add. “Must you… make me look like a fool?”

“I doubt anyone thought that of you, my love. The whole estate adores you.” Naoya admits. “If anything, I’d be the one they abhor above all… and within reason.”

“Not everyone hates you, Naoya.” You look at him, gaze softening at the face of his insecurities.

If there’s one thing you dislike more than how impetuous your husband can be from time to time… it’s his sadness. His solitude.

No one is deserving of such doubts, certainly not your loved ones.

“I don’t hate you.” You say. “Even if we disagree in some things… my love will never dwindle.”

“I shouldn’t have made you angry; the reason why I married you was to strengthen my commitment of making you happy, not the other way around.”

“It’s bound to happen, we’re both human after all.” You chuckle. “But… I guess I let my emotions get the best of me because… well, I’m… hurt.”

“Hurt?” Naoya frowns. “What do you mean hurt? Who did it? Is he still here?? I’ll make sure they—”

“No, Naoya, don’t—it’s not like that.” You shyly explain, heat slowly starting to settle in your cheeks and ears. “I… Let’s say I’m not very comfortable sitting down.”

“Sitting down?? What are you—”

…

Oh.

Oh.

It’s Naoya’s moment to turn bright red at the quick flash of last night’s endeavors.

Had he truly been that careless with his desire, that he didn’t measure the intensity of his acts?

But he thought…

“Ye—yeah; you were a bit too… rough last night.” You follow. “I don’t usually mind but I guess… I wasn’t that prepared this time around.”

“O—Oh, Y/N… I… I’m sorry.” He stammers, taking your hands and gently pressing them. “I should’ve known.”

“It’s ok, I know.” You reassure him. “I… I think we just went a bit too crazy last night and didn’t deal with the aftermath properly.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve done more.”

“Because it was… embarrassing for me.” You admit. “How do you tell your husband that your… butt hurts because he spanked it too much?”

“Just like that.” Naoya chuckles, releasing a bit of the tension settling on your shoulders “I do suppose this means I have to improve in our aftercare—guess it’s more than just warm baths and cuddles.”

“I guess it does.” You say. “Or maybe I’ve grown too old now…?”

“Old? Since when being in your 20’s is considered old?”

“A lot would say otherwise…”

“Ah, either way I’m not interested in such trivialities. All that I care about is making your butt feel better.”

“It sounds wrong when you say it like that.” You pout, he laughs.

“It’s the truth.” Naoya shrugs. “Do you think kissing it better will help?”

“Oh, no, it’s off limits until I feel better!” you fervently shake your head at this scandalous proposal. “And that includes sex!”

“…Fine, I can live with that.” Naoya dejectedly admits, because to the always handsy husband, this might as well be a life sentence, as ridiculous as that sounded. “Anything for my mochi, I suppose…”

“…But I guess I can make exceptions if you get the same tea set, without Hinata knowing about it! She’ll kill me if she finds out what happened to it…”

“Kill you? Impossible; if anything, I believe she might even find some way to make this incident a… blessing.” Proclaim even that her gift wasn’t that pretty anyways and she could get you a much better! Just to avoid seeing you upset. “I’d be the one to face death instead.”

“Not if we keep this a secret.” You smile, offering your pinky finger at him. “Shall this stay between us?”

He clasps your finger with his.

“I swear, over your sore—”

“Shut up!”

Your reaction would be believable if you weren’t equally perverted as him, it’s how many of these things came to be, after all.

Nothing but a reflection of your own desires, made possible thanks to his undying devotion.

a.k.a you have all these kinks you wanna try out and naoya is like damn!!!

...

...

....

count me in. also facesitting is 🤌

Nothing more to add than thank you so much for this hehe I hope it was to your enjoyment!

Take care and hope to see you soon :)) 💖💖💖

[elise-the-blind]

So I’ve seen some artists show their idea of the next generation of Jak and Daxter aka the future kids Jak and his friends might have. Have you ever had thought about or drawn Jak and Keira kid and Tess x Dax kid?

ok, imma gonna have to admit something since this isn't the first times I've been asked this, but I actually have never made or had much interest in making fankids. I honestly dont know why I lack this brain chemical, with the amount of headcannons I come up with this should be right up my alley, but no.

But whatever, I'll think up as much as I can for this, just know that for my AU, its very unlikely these characters will be a part of any of it.

Damascus (son of Jak and Keira)

Named after Damas (because I think its funny). Grew up copying his dads constant scowl, but has never had an angry thought in his life. Took up his mums love of gadgets, focusing on precursor tech and will sneak around the monk temple for info (the monks are aware of this but dont mind, alittle confused on why he insists on sneaking in). Even though not mute he's still the least likely to speak out of all four. Was told a story about lurker sharks (probably told by Daxter) and now has a fear of the ocean.

Jak is very, VERY careful with what stories he tells his son and what lessons he might take from them and gives evil eyes to anyone who tries suggesting Damascus does the same hero stuff Jak did as a kid. Bro knows how badly all of that can go and does not want any of that for his son. A result of that is Damascus doesn't have a lot of experience with eco, only what he knows from Keira's family (green eco for first aid). He's only heard about light eco from the monks and he DEFINITELY doesn't know nadda about using dark eco. Damascus has only rarely seen the dark Jak, and always when he's in danger, so thinks of it just as "man my dad is so cool he can kick the butt of anyone that messes with me".

Has any of Jak's dark eco been passed on to Damascus? Something to ponder, I'm sure it wont affect him too badly.

The Triplets (Tess and Daxter's kids)

Cally (bow), Cash (piercings), Cade (gloves): They're the offspring of a sarcastic ego-filled furball and a gun manic bossbitch, you think any of them would be normal? no. All three are all different levels of shitshow, and are determined to make that everyone else's problem.

Cade is the honorary 'nerd' of the family, fixated on studying precursors and the worlds inner workings. Had an existential crisis at age 6 after thinking about whether or not they had any sort of human DNA from both their parents not being born an ottsel. He always follows Damascus around when he's snooping, making their own sworn oath of secrecy. Cade will sometimes ask his dad about dark eco which all of the time loops to "shit stings, stay out of it son." Once asked uncle Jak, got shut down real fast (bro you're giving your uncle Gol and Maia flashbacks pls stop he's too old for this).

Cash took the love of demolition from Tess and spends alot of time hanging around uncle Torn and aunt Ashelin learning about military mechanics and tactics used by the guard. She gets super hyped when hearing battle stories and sometimes pesters Damascus about anything his pa might have told him about metalheads. Because of the closeness Cash has with the leaders of Haven, she's one of the only kids that know in more detail about Jak's dark side and see's her uncle as a much more intimidating figure. She doesn't plan on telling Cade any of that despite his studies, she's alittle worried he'll get himself into trouble.

Cally got all the showboat center stage child energy from her dad, serving as the distraction for when the trio are doing crimes. Cally acts alot like 'Precursor Legacy' Daxter, always talking, always going for everyone's attention. Alot of that's an act of course, and Cally is often stuck running around making sure her siblings aren't caught in any mess or that the blame of any damage is shifted from them to someone else/her. Cally makes sure to involve Damascus in the chaos the three get into occasionally, even if he doesn't act interested. She once tired racing with Keira for the sake of fame, and while racing was dropped because of a fear of crashing, Cally is very skilled with vehicles and can speed across the city if she ever needs to get anywhere. She knows all secret paths in Haven and Spargus, if you're a target you will never get away, she will catch you.

Everyone takes part in keeping an eye on all of them (especially the triplets) but Sig makes sure that Damascus gets home safe each night, wouldn't want the past to repeat itself would we.

Pretty sure that's all I got. Maybe I'll do more with these guys if there's enough interest. Otherwise I'm back to comic stuff.

[gotham-daydreams]

Ok the Friend!reader?! You completely got me. I always wanted to read a story when the reader is the witheness of all the yandere things and try to warn others but nobody listen to them. I'm also really afraid because you already say that the batfam can be really violent with their obsession so i just can't imagine of reader gonna suffer when they will consider them like a threat😭

HAHA EXACTLY!

I've always loved the idea of a reader seeing the yans already at their worst, and witnessing first hand the horrible people they really are... only for the yanderes to turn on them. They have almost full knowledge of what the yandere(s) are/is doing to everyone else besides them because they used to be in that position. Not to mention that the switch up has got to be horrifying, like - would you even believe that your their fixation now? What if they're just trying to butter you up so that they could get close to execute the final blow much easier? Doubts and things like that are what make it extra interesting to me, because on top of that, you also have the whole "What do you mean they're after me now?" thing and now you're the one having to be worried about your family and loved ones. Which, is just extra worrying because, again, you know (for the most part) how they'll act and what they'll do.

Being their fixation and knowing to a degree is terrifying enough, but being an almost previous victim and now turned fixation? Oh, that's something I can get behind!

Then again, I consider them more calculated and ruthless against problems then towards the one thing they're fixating on.

[aaazade]

HOUSTON WE HAVE A PROBLEM ── EPISODE TWO 𖤐

⤷ 𝄞⨾ 𝟎𝟎𝟐. 𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐎: 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐙𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒

AUTHOR'S NOTE : i do not own any of these characters except my own. minors, please do not interact as this is mature content with dark and sexual themes. all of my characters are black women so please respect that as you read! all lowercase is intended in this writing. ( i love choso's eyebags, please don't kill me when y'all read this). i'm so grateful for all the love on my last post! PAIRING: rockstar!sukuna x tourmanager!blackreader RATING: 18+, again mdni WARNINGS: yandere-ish moments, rock band, reader is black, usage of being held hostage, dírty talk, vampire!sukuna, dubcon, biting, drinking blood, slowburn, eventual smut, sort of angsty, stalker!sukuna, set in mostly southern cities, attempted mind control, secret society, royalty, masked men, usage of foul language, fire usage, sleep watching, sukuna's pov

𝐬𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: when tour manager!reader gets sucked into the rock world after big time group ‘dark curse’ seeks her out to plan and arrange their tour in the us. heinous secrets unfold about the group as she gets closer to the pink haired lead singer in the ‘bone demon’ mask. does she run for the hills or does she play cat and mouse? find out in "houston, we have a problem!"

check out the rest of the series here!

“cheers!”

sloshes of maltreated liquor stung the back of his throat with vigor. it was appalling how humans deserted their thinking and ration for a few moments of daze and desire. small murmurs of chatter follow the background’s ambience, the team’s dinner party going slower than he imagined. truth to be told, he would be on the tour bus devouring a long awaited meal if you were knee to knee, pressing up against his arm to make room for the others at the table. 

ryomen’s eyes cut to your hazy, relaxed figure. slouching against the padded oak wood chair, you were currently in a heated debate with your sister about… well actually he didn’t quite pick up what it was about.

no, ryomen was occupied being fixated on the curves and dips of your plush duo-colored lips, the way your eyes glowed with a soft brilliance at the suggestions of greasy foods and delights, how your the ringlets of your curls fell pass the juncture of your clavicle and shoulder down to brush against your waist. 

how dare you enchant him?  make him feel as if he has an obligation to be in your orbit, an obligation to admire you as if you aren’t human like the rest of them.

pathetic.

if this damn bind didn’t constrain him, the easiest option would be to drain you and leave your body by some unknown murky riverside in the depths of a foreboding cathedral of towering greenery.

he sneers instead, choosing the route most comparable to an insolent pubescent teen.

one long, slender finger proddes the seam at your waist of your wine red dress, your rambling coming to a halt. your eyes flaring at the growing lift at the corners of his mouth. 

“fuck do you want, sukuna?” your eyebrows furrowed together, a cute little pout settling on your plush lips.

just as threatening as a baby tiger trying to show off their claws.

shit, he felt his blood rushing south like some measly fucking loser who hasn’t seen the touch of a woman in his life. all because you batted your lashes and spoke to him. 

again, pathetic. 

you had ignored him all night, opting to throw shots back and participating in team building strategies and other useless parlors. he was no fool, your scent usually stood akin to the smell of a fresh waterfall drifting into a pool of something floral. maybe water lilies? even roses. but now, it’s laced with the burning embers of something sweet. honey.

arousal. he was sure of it. 

even now, flushed together as everyone else had risen up to find the dance floor, your eyes showed your true hues of emotions. red, yellow, pinks-

“would you fight me if i said you..?” your nose scrunched up in disgust, pushing the planes of his chest to seek out your sister.

guess it was time to go, huh? 

“ugh, shut the fuck up! i’m leaving-” he couldn’t take you seriously with you stumbling and hiccuping your way down the steps, entering into the sea of people below.

and as much as he would love to sit and grovel, his heart felt like it was breaking at its enclosure at the sight of your growing distance with him. 

he groaned, taking after you with long strides. his heavy footsteps followed behind the nimble wobble of yours, grasping at your wrist. 

“look just-”

“no!” you whipped around shoving a manicured nail in the brunt of his chest. “i know there’s something-.... something that lurks in the shadows with you. i’m no fool, so stay away from m- mmph!”

smart girl. he’ll give you your credit. at least you have some survival instincts and wit about you. not only that, but you had the gall to stand your ground against him, huh?

a dark sneer rippled from his tongue, the kind of laugh that made the air thick and heavy. a heavy hand came up to cup your jaw.

your drunken fury simmered right back down to the tender laps of waves. 

those treacherous pulses of heat ate at his control. eating at his will to not to take you into the back of some shitty storage room and show you the purge of darkness you think he hides. 

not yet, you need more time.

ryomen tipped his head back to find some semblance of control, wielding the hunger and lust to draw back. 

fucking woman, you driving him insane like this must be some sort of sorcery.

“go sit your ass down, now. your sister is fucking fine with those two freaks. ” he commanded, meeting the gaze in your eyes. your stance never wavered, the fire in your eyes refusing to be snuffed out.

yet, you ended up with your ass in a chair. 

better than that, before he hung up the phone call to his personal driver, your eyes fluttered shut. the music thrumming in the background lulled you to fall asleep all less than five minutes. your head couldn’t hold it’s weight in your unconscious state, tilting until he had to clasp his hand to your forehead to catch it before it thudded against the table. opting to just sling you in his arms princess style, his boots began the journey, hitting the gravel outside of the building. 

the city hummed its gentle tune in the background of the car, each passing street light catching the planes and dips that make the features on your face stand out. your lashes fluttered on the tops of your cheek with every inhale you take, chest rising in miniscule measurements. he felt a desperate urge to swallow you in his grip and hold you tight against his icy skin. 

when the car rolled to a stop, ryomen cradled you in his arms once again, stepping into the shadows as a cloud of crimson swirled around the both of them, only dispersing seconds after in the middle of your hotel room like the parting of a fog. 

his slender palm caressed your temple, the ice-kissed temperature of his lips pressing a sweet kiss there as he lowered you into the soft cushion of your sheets, his parting goodbye.

with another unnecessary breath, he rose up, striding over to pull the balcony door open. 

“goodnight, my little tiger. you put up a good fight today.” 

he slipped in the chilled gust of darkness, scarlet eyes lazily observing his surroundings as he appeared again across the street under a pole light. he could see you from his view below, from the tiny flickers of emotion in your expression as you dream dotingly to the soft twitch in your balled up fist uncurling as though you were reaching out from someone. for him.

“here, take it old fart.”  

the younger ones these days are so disrespectful.

ryomen tilted his head over his shoulder to meet choso’s bored, chestnut irises ringed with that familiar, awful looking purple bags. pastel pink strands wisped away as he ran his hands through the base of his scalp. 

“brat…” he grumbled, snatching the damn stick away in sheer pettiness.

there was an understanding of silence for a second, before choso huffed out a cloud of smoke. 

“are you ever going to tell her? she’ll find out sooner than later, y’know.” he stated, rolling his eyes at ryomen’s antics as the second cloud of smoke filled the ice chilled air around them. 

“i know that-” he growled. “i’d promptly advise you to shut the fuck up. i didn’t bother you when you were a pathetic loser for your wife.”

but despite the intensity of emotion behind his voice, choso simply shrugged his leather clad shoulders, taking his long strides away from from the 6’3 man. as he departed ryomen was so sure he hear that fucker grumble under his breath.

“at least i don’t have to stalk my wife like some old ass creep. wait until hayden finds you ‘edward-ing’ her sister.”

to fucking hell with that brat, the duo freaks, and their bonded. even if she is your sister, nobody will stop him from making you his. 

conjuring forth a spark that gradually speared into a large crimson hue of a flame in his hand, he seeks you out till the sun bleeds a path of light through your balcony and wakes you to the day’s journey. 

and when the sun sets and your mind drifts off into a careless realm of dreams… there he is again. 

watching. waiting. protecting. yearning.

the usual humid heat of atlanta had simmered down into a drizzle calm. the streets were quite muted and lackluster from its usual loud blares of horns and activity. shades of greys and browns muddles its unique colors into a foggy storm. inside, the light flooded the room into a dim shade adjusting to the small quantity of natural rays from outside.  

ryomen preferred this weather, something dreary. the type of weather that you could slip and disappear into the shadows and no one would bat an eye. the tapping rhythm of the rain dripped down the windows, capturing the spark of each flash with it. 

“okay, everyone big smiles! one, two, three.”

his expression didn’t change much, of course. with each click next to a fan, ryomen stood tall, only a hint of impish tilt to the corner of his lips.

you stood maybe a good twenty feet away, your sister conducting the line to know that each individual gets enough time. your makeup was all done up, rocking a new hairstyle as you took long, away shots for promo.

he didn’t understand the schematics of it, but today it was a honey blonde, fading into a lighter shade of platinum around your waist.

a tinge of possessiveness curled around his ribcage.

‘pink would look better on you.’ he settled, a needy image rampaging through the cornered angles of his mind about how fucking gorgeous you would look splayed out on his onyx sheets with matching pale pink- 

“okay, sukuna. one last picture.”

he slouched, forgetting to keep up with what’s natural to humans and what’s seen as… eerie, abnormal.

appearances, he supposes.

if not for shitty rules and customs he once was a part of, drakari traditions would have no substance on his life. 

the last fan staggered on the podium taking the center of the group. he smelt… something pungent radiating from the male, face covered with a black mask.

but his eyes.. they were beady. like the life was sucked out from him, leaving only the remains of an outer shell.

“i remember something..” the man’s voice croaked alive, fingers shaky as they traveled to the edge of his facial mask.

“i remember.. that day that our village burned… so much smoke that the surrounding villages couldn’t see what really happened. what you really did-”

“alright guys! three-”

“is that right?” ryomen’s brows jumped at the man's tone, snarling, his chaos magic swirling, clawing like an animal to be released as the man taunted with those same beady eyes fusing into gold.

“two-”

“emperor ryomen sukuna”

“one!”

a loud cackle left the greasy man the same time a ‘pop’ echoed, heat spilling into the room at degrees to turn bones into ashes. screams ignited at the sight of flames blistering through the plaster covered walls in the building, crowds of people merging together to find any possible exit.

yet with each face he searched, none bared close to the resemblance of yours. 

“fuck!” he roared over the crackles of flames and fear induced screams. 

all five heightened senses working together as something ill made its way to his still heart at the thought of you stuck under rubble, lungs collapsing as you fight for your last breath. 

no, not today. not ever.

and there it was, the scent of the rushing waterfall and bright lilies. he found you grasping desperately at multiple shoulders, presumably searching for the soft touch of your sister. 

he swears some more profanities under his breath, clasping your shaky body under his. by the time your eyes opened after you blinked, you stood barreled under him in the middle of the park trail seven blocks down the street.

ryomen studied the contours on your face morphing from shock, to confusion, then finally landing in.. horror. 

“n-no. no! how do we get here like that? ryomen…. where is my sister? oh my fucking god, is she still in there?” that unyielding boldness you carried had you clawing at him as if you could escape his grasp. though, you still shook like a leaf.

“my sister- ah! let the fuck go of me! she could be still in there! and you! with your freaky shit, what the fuck are you-”

his hands find their way to your cheeks again, clasping on as he bends forward. the both of you are only centimeters apart, your eyes searching for something found and strong behind the depths of those scarlet irises. 

“breathe.”

his only command, and yet you sucked in the crisp morning air, blowing out the smears of smoke you escaped from. 

“your sister is fine.. so just breathe, mama. just.. breathe. i’ll tell you everything later..” 

those duo freaks would eat the world alive if anything happens to hayden.

ugh, especially blonde freak. 

a strong chortle rings through his mind, affirming the hayden is indeed just with freak one and two.

now that not a hair was stinged on your head, maybe it’s time he goes to visit that zenin bastard. 

it may end with the last remaining zenin’s heart clutched in his hand, as he sits on his throne in his court full of blood and bones. 

all work belongs to to @aaazade please do not copy, translate without permission, or post my work! let me know if anyone would like to be apart of my taglist as i post each episode. hope you enjoyed episode two and be sure to comment for more!

[featherstorm2004]

You know I fully believe that if Hawks and a young AFO would have met, I bet they would have gotten on very well, since they actually have a lot in common.

I mean they both grew up in bad environments and had to live on the streets, they both had to be the providers for their family's at a young age. They also have mommy issues and had trouble expressing themselves when they where younger. Which they then made up for by being the most theatrical and dramatic adults on earth, and then proceeded to make it everyone else's problem.

I could also go on about how fiction deeply effected them growing up, leading them to choose who they wanted to be. And they both fixated on a single person because they were the one good thing to happen to them (though Hawk's fixation was a lot more healthy) but that would take all day.

I'm just saying these two are very similar and it's a shame we didn't get to see them interact more as what we do have is gold.

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Any chance we could get a yandere Poe Dameron comeback? 😈

Somehow he has returned :o

The fire inside, the beauty outside

Yandere!Poe Dameron x f!reader

Cw/triggers: Nsfw, Poe is lowkey creepy, dirty thoughts, masturbation(m!).

Poe recently heard about new recruits for the Resistance. Knowing his luck, Leia most probably would assign him to welcome them and give them a proper start.

The day the corvette with the recruits arrived, he got himself ready, reminding everyone of the new members.

You were amongst them, stepping out to join the others as Leia and Poe approached.

Leia smiled sweetly as she stopped infront of you all.

"Welcome to the Resistance everybody," she gestured towards Poe, "this is commander Dameron, our top pilot and the one who will make sure you have a great start."

You could feel the nervous swallowings of the others around you.

Poe looked at each one of you, but his eyes lingered on you for a second longer.

As Poe started speaking, explaining how everything will work, you listened intently while Poe caught your gaze more often than with any of the others.

When the introduction was finished, all of you were assigned to do some small work in the maintenance bay, with Poe's eyes fixated on you whenever he could, even sneaking glanced at you when he's talking to someone.

Poe couldn't explain how and why you specifically. Did he care? Not so much.

He looked around, seeing the others deepened in their work, then his curious gaze set on you working on a droid.

"Hey there, doing alright?" he stepped beside you, watching your fingers work on the dismantled protocol droid.

You smiled proudly. "Yes, I'm trying to fix his arm and it's giving me problems with the wires though."

"Want me to help you?" Poe offered with a friendly smile.

Accepting with a nod, you stepped more to the side, allowing Poe to help you, fumbling with the same arm as you did, occasionally brushing his fingers against yours, sending sparks through him, some even wandering downwards, with his heart fluttering.

Poe's breath quickened, he felt the heat rise up from the blood that's starting to flow downwards.

He tried to ignore all the things going on inside of him, wanting to genuinely help you but it was difficult with the bloodrush in his groin distracting him.

But despite all the distraction, Poe managed to help you with the wires. Thank the stars he was wearing his orange suit, otherwise his tight pants would threaten to bust open.

"You think you come along alone? I've got a meeting coming up shortly." He excused himself.

You look back at him, smiling. "Of course, thanks for the help."

With a quick reassuring smile, Poe swiftly made his way out of the maintenance bay, heading to a quiet spot inside the base so he could be undisturbed.

Once there, he pressed himself against the wall, trying to calm himself down even with his big problem inside his suit.

"Fuck, what's wrong with me?" He muttered, he couldn't bear the urge any longer, palming himself with one hand, unzipping his suit with the other.

The smile you gave him was almost too much for him.

Reaching inside his straining boxers and pulling his throbbing length out, he looked around one last time, then gave himself a slow, teasing stroke, slumping back against the wall.

With a groan he started stroking himself faster while his thoughts unintentionally went back to you, your beautiful face, your smile, your everything.

And your hands while fixing that droid? It drove him freaking mad with pleasure, imagining them moving somewhere else instead...

Slowing his handiwork down to edge and tease himself even further, Poe didn't want it to end, fucking his fist, thinking about you, wanting you - no, needing you!

Poe was a panting and hip-shuddering mess, having to support himself on the wall with his arm, squeezing the girth in his hand, imagining what it would feel like to bury himself to the hilt inside you. You, being a moaning mess underneath him.

He wished he could go down on you, ripping orgasm after orgasm out of you until you have to beg him to stop due to overstimulation.

Poe was already about to drop off the edge, he was so close.

With the last pump of his hand, he spilled himself on the wall. Exhausted, he leaned his sweaty forehead on his arm, subconsciously watching his cum flow down the wall.

Once he catched himself, he tucked his softened cock back into his boxers, then zipped up his suit, and adjusting its collar.

When Poe returned back to the maintenance bay, he saw Leia along with C-3PO speaking to you and the rest of the group.

Leia had already dismissed you and the others as Poe stepped beside her.

She raised an eyebrow at his sudden appearance out of nowhere.

"Poe, where were you?"

"I had to respond to an emergency with BB-8." he blurted out in fast thinking

"I'm glad you're here now though. They're all going to join us, for now I've given them free time to adjust. I'm giving you the same 'cause I think it was a hard day for you with them."

A hard day for Poe indeed.

"Yeah it was," Poe nodded, feigning exhaustion, "but I'm glad they're going to join us." he drawled.

Poe was looking forward to it. Specifically to you.

After he got dismissed, Poe went inside his quarters, trying to get a hold of himself but failed miserably. His mind was still clouded with you, only you.

Just a few minutes after, Poe felt increasingly restless, he wanted to see you again. So he got up, deciding to give you a friendly visit.

After a quick check, he now knows where your quarters are. Once there he knocked softly on the door, already having an excuse thought up.

Hearing no response, only silence, Poe made a bold move, pressing the button to silently slide your door open.

Poe's eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness in your place. You were already in your bed in a deep sleep.

Admiring your sleeping form, Poe silently stalked towards you, then kneeled down at your bedside.

By the stars you are so beautiful.

Poe reached out, gently tracing his knuckles along your cheek as you let out a sleepy sound.

He smiled, wanting nothing more than to climb into your bed and trap you in his arms.

Poe leaned down until he was close to your ear then whispered lowly.

"Baby you will love it here. I'll take such good care of you..."

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

Tags:

@nekoyin @steven-grants-world @iolaussharpe-24 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

@mooksmouse @autismsupermusicalassassin @cordeliaelise @faretheeoscar

@appeltaartglitter @lunaana-02 @krakenkitty @marycat-memeblog @tokkiwrites

Wanna get tagged?

[ikarusriver]

IM Not dead I SWEAR

★★★

I am realizing however that I am afraid of answering people now (I have been off meds for awhile) and I will try to answer soon. I’m so sorry to everyone who has been potentially ghosted or left unaddressed I don’t know why I was feeling brave before but I’m Not now and am TRYING TO BE I PROMISE!

I don’t have anything canon but I have stupid amount of tf2 ocs. I’m sorry for this as well. But slightly less. Because I like these characters (and they are completely irrelevant to anyone else in this case)

<Oc artdump beams you>

★｜BLU sniper Murray Snowden [aka Muh-rae]. He’s weird and he’s fun and he is a direct inverse (mostly) to canon / red sniper! I have been fixated on him the most so I will likely share doodles of him most often. If I remember to post again soon.

I have two snipers actually so meet Cosmo as well

☆｜YLW sniper Cosmo Madrazo [unknowingly Panganiban]. Cosmo is a skittish and young man that spends more time in matches hiding than he does actually participating. With the team circumstances however, I don’t blame him.

! The happiest guy! (Not Cosmo. The next fella)

★｜YLW Spy Ángel Rivera-Soto! A retired ship third mate with a heart of gold. He is inverted in every way besides the smoking problem. He smokes like his life depends on it! So silly! Sure hope there’s no correlation there to anything. (Also this guy has a blog heehueheee:^ winks and nudges it over as if i've remembered to use it at all @sly-daffodils)

And of COURSE my IDIOT CUSTOM CLASS GUYS.

☆｜[ left ] Gómez Isgró, + [ right ] Jovane De Lima. A RED First officer and a BLU, (technically YLW, but BLU on canon teams) First Officer [ aka FO ] respectfully. Their references are kind of scuffed so I need to make something consistent + proper and upload it later at a future date. I love these guys regardless though. (Jovane has a YLW account i've yet to boot up for narrative purposes and Gómes is simply ... Gómez).

Gómez (28 yrso) is oblivious and thinks they are best friends. Jovane (50 yrso) sees Gómez as immature and dislikes his lack of dignity, does not see him as a friend--let alone a BEST friend.

These are all the characters I think I have. I'll need to go through and introduce some more thoroughly, but hey! One step at a time. I've been swamped out irl and I'm still trying to get back up to speed. Hopefully spring break will bring some normalcy back to my activity here.

[sari-whims]

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐭𝐞 - 𝐒𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐞 𝐔𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐡𝐚

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿, 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 (𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗍)

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗂𝗅𝖾𝗋𝗌 (𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗂𝗍)

Sasuke is closed off, cold even.

But not to you, no.

After all the tears and broken hearts he's caused everyone, people aren't as interested in him as before.

Sometimes they do wonder if the young Uchiha has emotions and can laugh, but practically everyone has internally decided, he doesn't.

It's the way it is, nobody is suprised.

You've always been close, maybe the long friendship helped Sasuke to trust you, so when you started dating, only a few things changed.

Physical touch, or any sort of romantic affection was a bit difficult for him, but with time he's gotten used to it, and now craves your presence.

If you're not with him, he'll let Naruto blabber the most utter nonsense while thinking about his partner.

Oh how he misses your sweet scent in moments like this.

"-and then he said...", the loud blonde was shouting about some problem again so Sasuke decided to zone out for a bit.

His mind drifted somewhere completely else.

You've been on a mission for some days now.

A Jonin like you sure doesn't have much free time, especially after war.

There are millions of things that still need to be settled, so you're doing your best to help.

Sasuke's lips twitch at the thought.

He can't help this warm feeling in his chest, buliding up drastically.

Sometimes it was hard not to admit he was missing you, so emotions built up in him, making it difficult to cope.

The raven's eyes drift, watching passersby, completely zoning out.

How he wished you were here.

A few days later, you come home.

It's night.

You've given the hokage, Kakashi, your report and are now on your way to your and Sasuke's shared home.

After war, he had gone away for three years again to protect the village from the outside and to find himself again.

You're glad he's back, back with you.

Your footsteps are quiet, almost silent.

You knock on the door, before coming in.

"I'm home.."

The further you walk into the house, the warmer you feel.

You can't help the little smile on your face when a really tired Sasuke walks towards you.

"...Welcome home...", he mumbles, immediately wrapping his arm around you.

You smile, hugging him back.

"Hey.. I'll take a quick shower okay? You already go ahead and sleep. You really look like you need it", you chuckle as he slightly grumbles but obeys.

After the shower you walk into the bedroom, seeing Sasuke already laying there, eyes fixated on you.

You chuckle, gesturing him to look away so you can put on some clothes before taking off your towel.

He mumbles something about how he's "already seen everything" but does as you say.

When you have on your pajamas, you join him in your guys' bed, cuddling yourself into the warm covers.

You snuggle closer to Sasuke, grinning up to him.

That sight makes it hard for the Uchiha not to smile back, feeling content.

He puts his hand on the back of your head, pulling you closer.

Your head is on his chest and he kisses it softly.

It wasn't often, that he displayed affection so openly, even though it's you.

But at nights like this, craving each other's presence, not having seen each other for a while, it's hard to resist.

You inhale his scent, feeling it, engraving it into your brain, so you'll never forget.

You wrap your arms around him, nuzzling your head into the crook of his neck.

Sasuke feels your hot breath against his skin, making his cheeks feel unusually hot, his heart beating faster than it normally does.

He used to resent the way you make him feel.

But he's grown to love it.

Love the fact that you're the only one who's ever been able to have such an effect on him.

Sometimes he wonders if this is all a dream.

If you were really here, by his side.

If you really stayed, even though he had fought against everyone, made countless mistakes and even lost an arm in the process.

Yeah, sometimes he isn't sure if somebody just killed him and had enough pity to put him into a genjutsu to let him feel happiness one last time.

But the way your breath against his neck, the rhythm of your heartbeat against his chest and the warmth of your skin on his cold one feels..

Too real to be an illusion, too real not to be true.

And when you look up, your bright eyes full of love and affection, he can't help but melt under your gaze.

Sasuke watches you, a faint smile displaying so naturally on his lips, that he knows.

Your love was true, it was real.

You kiss his cheek before laying down again.

"Good night Sasuke. I love you."

And like always, like clockwork, he responds while tracing the Uchiha clan symbol on the back of your shirt.

"Good night. I love you too."

.

.

.

[theorahsart]

Hi!! So, firstly, I’m absolutely obsessed with your Robespierre comic, when I first learned about him I thought he was autistic, so I’m really glad to see I’m not the only one who has this theory!! Kinda leading on from that, Robespierre obviously had pretty bad health, and towards the end of his life especially, he took a lot of time off of work due to illness- do you think this was an actual physical illness, or a nervous breakdown, or burnout, or some kind of combination of all three?

Aaaah thank you 😭 That's so kind, and I love that I keep finding more and more people that agree with this theory. It's especially cool that some experienced historians also have considered this (such as Saintjustitude here on Tumblr!)

TLDR: I personally think it's a combination of all three- but when it comes to the physical illness thing, I personally think any physical symptoms were born from the other two factors. More detailed thoughts below :3

Autism affects you in such a physical way (or, it always has with me). I'm so over-sensitive to stimuli, that a normal amount of stress that most people get makes me feel physically sick (once when I had a stomach bug I didnt realise until everyone else caught it, cos the symptoms were the same as when I'm getting sensory overload 😅) When its really, really bad, I find it hard to regulate my adrenaline- I get ulcers in mouth, my tummy is out of whack for days. I definately have to isolate myself from others just to try and re-regulate my body, any conversation or noise just sets off my adrenaline again. I speculate on whether a similar impact may have been had with Robespierre.

We do know he had 'sores' on his legs during his last bout of illness. I've gone with the assumption that these sores were hives of some kind- since the only other kind of sores people get are either from an extremely rare immune disorder or from very poor circulation in the legs. I'll assume Robespierre at least didn't have poor leg circulation since he was supposedly walking Brount every afternoon and was known to stick very rigidly to his routines. Hives/welts also suggests extreme stress- or well, this is again the case in my personal experience.

Regards burnout- I think it's safe to say all CPS members present at the same time were probably dealing with burnout, its not normal in any time period to work for so long and only sleep 4 hours tops. They were human after all!! 😭

With Robespierre's inner-feelings, we have some accounts from ppl he knew and Robespierre himself saying he was deeply unhappy and stressed at the time. He became 'unwell' quite a few times after various emotional conflicts over the years in politics, and for situations much less stressful than what he dealt with in 1794. And Im pretty sure I could pull up numerous examples where he 'fixates' on something and will not let it go. So imagine being someone who obsesses over things to the point of acute anxiety, who is then dealing with all the impossible problems of 1794. This combination of factors suggests to me someone who could easily have been prone to a nervous breakdown during that time.

I'm thinking about all this from an autism perspective, but this is probably true of anyone under high stress, so I think you can easily consider this without speculating on Robespierre being autistic. Although he didn't seem to handle situations as well as the other CPS members. You could say this was due to health, I say it was due to autism. But as I said at the beginning, in my experience physical health and autism are connected closely.

I hope that's a satisfying answer!

[maddragon15]

Happy pride everyone!!

I'm a bit late to the first day but nevertheless I throw a transtho at ye. I've made some slight changes to my headcanon version of etho because the sims has permitted me complete and utter control of how to envision him and therefore I'll make it everyone else's problem to also see said vision.

Ramble and variation down yonder

It's not uncommon to come across etho with the roots (bc of arctic fox seasonal colors) showing but what about the freckles on the body? I need to see more of that, and also he has gallbladder surgery scars because I said so. This man is so unbelievably a blank slate in terms of design and so I'm just gonna be silly goofy with it. I imagine that he has even more scars on the back due to battles with skeles and zombies alike.

Also I've had this pose with etho stuck in my head for at least a week and a half but I have not had the time to actually draw it until today. I wanted a pose that just kinda displays his body but in a non suggestive way, hopefully it comes across as that. Really it's just meant to show pride & positivity in top surgery scars along with other scars n details of the body. I figure Etho would be an ideal candidate for said topic because as I said earlier his character is such a blank slate but also I just really tend to project my transness on character fixations of the decade. (I'm still staring at you trans scar and gnc grian)

I wanted to do a more oil painted style for this piece but I figured a good 'ol watercolor style would be nice to dabble in again.

Also also I do plan to at least doodle the days I've missed for hermitaday as one mega post once I finish impulse & tango despite it being nearly a week after hermitaday finished.

Sketch & Sim (In case anyone wanted to see my eef sim)

[renthony]

Goddammit I have things to say about Arcane again. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I have never been this obsessed with a show that pissed me off so much. Fucking hell.

Longish critical post under the cut.

Husband and I are re-watching Arcane from the beginning, specifically so we can do some critical analysis and frame-by-framing. This watch, I'm really fixated on the way Vi is reintroduced after being in prison, because it does not make any goddamn sense.

If Stillwater is primarily full of Zaunites working for Silco, and Vi is constantly fighting with them, but she's also constantly being tortured by the enforcers...who the fuck is watching her back? How is she alive? Yes, she has a solitary cell, but we see her let out into the common areas. If she has that many enemies in Stillwater, how has she survived this long? The answer seems to be "plot armor," and that's...not a good answer.

If she has literally zero allies in prison, and she is hated by both the inmates and the guards, she'd be dead. Even if we're supposed to assume Marcus gave the order to the other enforcers to keep her alive, we know for a fact that the enforcers are still abusing her, so they clearly don't actually give a shit, nor do they stop the other inmates from fighting with her.

Like, I don't care how much of a badass she is, she has to sleep sometimes. She has to eat sometimes. She has to take a piss sometimes. She is clearly in fighting-fit shape, she is clearly healthy enough to immediately start parkouring all over Zaun after release, so who's letting her have access to workout equipment? You don't get or stay that jacked just by punching a wall. How's she getting enough calories? You don't get the good food if everyone in the prison hates you. For all that she makes a joke to Caitlyn about prison food tasting awful, she is clearly not malnourished.

And who the fuck did her tattoos????? They're extensive and fairly high-quality. If someone else did them, who was she on good enough terms with? If she did it herself, who liked her enough to smuggle, sell, or share supplies with her?

It really wouldn't bug me as much if it weren't for the fact that the narrative seems to want me to see her as a forgotten loner who has nobody in her corner until Caitlyn. Fundamentally, that cannot be true, or Vi would have been murdered and dumped in the water long before Cait showed up.

Also, if Silco has that many people in Stillwater, how does he not have his fingers in the prison smuggling operation that clearly exists? I don't buy it. If he owns Marcus' ass that hard, and he's already involved in smuggling, he'd have spies and smugglers in Stillwater, too. I do not believe that Silco has the power and the confidence to casually threaten Marcus by showing up in the man's personal home, but not enough power and confidence to get spies into a prison that's already full of his own allies/underlings.

There are definitely possible answers to some of these questions, and I certainly have my own headcanons, but it really doesn't feel like the writers' room spent a lot of time thinking about the actual social issues and politics that they invoked for aesthetic.

Usually this is where I'd say, "I wonder what the S&P notes looked like, and I wonder how many episodes they got screwed out of, because so much of this could have been fixed with a little more runtime." Sadly, based on the shit that keeps coming out of Christian Linke's mouth, I don't think we can blame the corporate office for this one. If Christian Linke is telling the truth and the show got all the episodes they wanted, my ever-present "TV writers keep getting screwed, so I have to analyze the finished product with the knowledge that the creators likely got fucked over" goodwill completely vanishes.

The problem really seems to be that the show was written by centrists with a fundamentally flawed understanding of class struggle, drug use, the drug trade, and the prison-industrial complex. It's not surprising, but it does disappoint me.

And while I'm thinking about it, why is Shimmer somehow both drinkable and injectable in seemingly the same form???? Drugs can absolutely come in different forms, but we see people drink the exact same type of shimmer that other people inject. You don't drink injectable drugs. Fuck's sake, this is Skooma levels of "the writers just threw every scary-sounding drug in a blender to make Scary Super Drugs without knowing anything about how real-world drugs work."

Also, if the Firelights' big thing is that they hate Silco Because Of Drugs, I really wanna know how the hell Ekko found that many straight-edge anarchists willing to build a secret compound together. Are they against all drugs, or just shimmer? Where's their line?

[mskenway97]

I've been wanting to write this for a long time and with the skills this character has, I've been itching to write this.

ROTB Mirage x Fem!human!reader

Cap 2

Curious cat

Words: 1.506

Summary: You started noticing something strange in your neighborhood, while you were watching something weird. You decided to investigate it to find some surprise.

Warning: g/t content, g/t fearplay

You've been saving money for a long time, working hard… Living in New York was expensive, but it was your dream since you were a little girl, the city of opportunity. For now you had started in a waitressing job, the hours were horrible, the bosses didn't treat you the way you wanted but it was the best you could do until one of the interviews gave you the job you wanted. You came home late, the nights were pretty quiet and you had to be alert for anything. You were always taught to be cautious, to say that living alone had a risk but you thought it was better to take a chance, you never knew what you might find along the way. You had heard all the time of urban legends: monsters, shadows that took you away. "Nonsense" you thought every time they mentioned it, you may be from the village but it doesn't mean that because you are from the village you believe in those unfounded legends. Although today while you were working, you had heard a couple of customers talking about a ghost car, you laughed when you heard it and tried to dissimulate. "People should focus on real problems not urban legends" you thought as you packed up to go home. The way though you kept thinking about what the customers talked about. A ghost car… You couldn't get that legend out of your mind even as you went to sleep, I'm sure you'd get over that thought tomorrow. But it didn't happen that way, every time you heard more and more about that car, something that made you more and more curious, you had a big defect, when in your mind there was an idea that didn't disappear until you found out what was going on.

Until one day you decided to investigate all the rumors that were going around: you had gathered that it appeared only at night (as in all legends or horror stories), it was always found in abandoned parking lots, it was a gray car with blue racing stripes… "I lack more information there is something that does not fit me in all this …. And the people who have found it? Or something else?" you thought while looking at the notebook of notes about what could be that mysterious vehicle. The following days were spent asking the supposed "people" who had seen that car… All the words they said were not credible: that it disappeared in front of their noses, suddenly they saw three cars instead of one… others said they saw a giant figure… This last one already seemed ridiculous to you from everything you had heard, what was going to be next, an alien? Absurd. Although if I found a good story I could give you some more credibility and help anything or maybe you were fixated on an idea that was impossible�� Here's to making your life a little more dynamic. The bad thing is that you would never know where that car was, it did not keep a fixed position, so in order to find it you decided to ask someone who would surely know about the car. Reek was a man who knew more about robberies than anything else, but if there was any information about that car he would surely know something about it. So you met up with him in a neighborhood in Brooklyn while he came in smiling:

The man was always walking around with a licorice in his mouth, he was more cooperative after I told him you would give him some dough.

-Girl, are you sure about what you're going to do? Some of my colleagues were looking for that "ghost car" - said Reek while showing a picture of the car.

You took a better look at the picture and it matched the descriptions that everyone you had asked matched. You were more interested in the make of the car? You had wanted a car like this since you were a child, in fact you were saving up to buy one for yourself.

-Just give me a location, Reek, and I'll give you the dough. I'm sure it's nothing. Plus you know how to avoid the cameras, right? - you said as you were pulling out some bills Reek rubbed his hands together.Well if you give me a little extra I'll even deactivate them…

-Just this or I'll tell everyone you're stealing cable TV… Reek was a little offended to hear it and rectified what he said to you. He gave you everything you needed. This time it was in a parking lot not far from the residential area, but the neighborhood was not very well known… That's why it was guarded. The idea was that Reek would create a blackout while you went inside. It seemed like a perfect idea and the sooner you figured out what that car was, the calmer it would put your mind at ease. Finally the night you were waiting for came, Reek had left you a place where you could turn off the power, it didn't seem too difficult, you just had to lower some switches but when you arrived you saw that they were already down.

But instead of running away you decided to enter, seeing that the doors were open, the parking lot was in a closed place that did not even have a guard, only people took advantage of it to leave their vehicles "for free". You approached carefully, you hid among the cars to see a group of thieves approaching the car. Everything seemed normal until you saw that it had disappeared in front of them, not only that the lights had gone out around it, to show the same car several times and repeated all this all the time until the thieves ran away. If you didn't see it you wouldn't believe it, it was really happening as all those people were saying. You stayed in your position while you stood up and heard a voice in your ear:

-You thought I didn't see you? You jumped back to see that the car you were leaning against was the grey car you were all looking for, you quickly ran to another part of the parking lot that seemed to be more isolated while breathing heavily.-You're making it too easy for me, girl…. You jumped again to see the same car next to you, your face went blank as you saw that gray car. You were trying to react, you ran away from it.

-Come on, I'm not that scary… Come here little girl - said the giant gray being. You were thinking it was a dumbbell as you were hiding under a car. Suddenly you heard silence all around you, except for the watch you were wearing.

Tick,Tick No matter how hard you ran… You felt its presence all the time, playing with your mind… You had only one word in your mind: run away…

But running away to where your mind was racing, your heart felt like it was going to burst then you heard some big footsteps around you.

-Come out wherever you are, girl? No matter where you hide… I'm going to find you - said that giant robot while you saw him walking away from you to another floor of the parking lot. You didn't think about it and picked up your cell phone to see that the car where you were hiding was lifted as if nothing by that gray robot, you tried to run again to stumble and find three of them. You were completely surrounded, while one of them picked you up and made the rest of them disappear, you tried to move but he was holding you in his servo as if nothing. You were completely terrified trembling… completely at their mercy. The giant gray robot pinched you on the cheek.

I have to say, of all the humans I've seen… I found you the most curious. At least you didn't faint or run away. You've got some guts. You were trying to get away from his touch but he had too much strength to dodge it, you're literally like a doll in his hands.

-Let me go! Possessed car! - you said as the robot laughed at the sound.

-Possessed car? Come on, my name is Mirage… I don't want to let you go yet," he said as he transformed into a car while leaving you on the seat.

-Let go of me! Let go of me! - you said as you kicked everything you could.

I'm sorry, curious kitty… I can't see if Optimus will let me stay with you. I'll take good care of you," said the car as it pulled away to a location.

You tried to kick more but it was impossible, your curiosity had led you to a moment you never expected. To the mercy of a giant being that saw you as its kitten. Curiosity caught the cat.