#it makes me think of stories of church grims

[zombieella]

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[opentanie]

I'm still thinking about these two paragraphs, wondering, whether Suzanne Collins is aware of the implication here. That these nameless Seam girls are simply too naive, too stupid than to know better, and they fall for their opressors, chickens dating Colonal Sanders, if you will... But Lenore Dove? The only way she could get intimate with Peacekeeprs is by force, to humiliate her, to break her.

And I'm not saying that Haymitch is wrong to be afraid of Lenore Dove getting assaulted, while under arrest, but

those nameless, unimportant girls were never graced the benefit of the doubt about their willingness to get with literal armed hand of the regime

which gets even more offensive, when you realize that Haymitch's fear implies that such occurances already happened in the past. Even now, when thinking about risks of getting arrested, most people don't think about the potential rape from police officers, simply because these cases are making less headlines, so for Haymitch to even think about that, he must be aware that it is a possibility

And it doesn't even make me dislike how Lenore Dove is written more, because sigh of course the perfect lost Lenore is the victim of Madonna-whore complex.

If anything, it just makes me sad for all those girls with no names and no significance for the story, existing merely for a world building detail, which isn't bad on itself because such things happen (although mostly in Catholic Church, iykyk). Because if Haymitch thinks this way, how many others do as well? And for how many of these girls this simply isn't true that they were the ones to get smitten? How many said 'no' before the child was conceived?

This is merely a throw-away line, but it creates such a grim reality, in which these girls are not only helpless against the system that will protect their rapists, but also against their own community, who is more eager to label them as class traitors rather than victims. And sure, such things happened in history, but from both Katniss and Haymitch's pov we have this narration that people in districts know their enemy, that they're sceptical about what Capitol tries to sell them - so wouldn't the natural assumption be that a Seam girl, your neighbour, your classmate, a girl you know since she was a child, with whom you stood hand in hand through each Reaping, didn't got smitten with one of the armed men, who made sure none of you escape? That she was simply unable to defend herself when he decided that she's just one more thing he can take for himself because nothing in districts really belongs to districts?

And what's even more offensive to me, in a way, is that this is the only mention of extramarital intercourse in the whole series, which isn't also a forced sex work (or implied one, re @ Lucy Gray Baird). Like I said many times already, yeah, this is a series targeted at middle schoolers, I don't expect Suzanne Collins to admit that teenagers in districts have sex or whatever, but Jesus fucking Christ, this is the admition that people in her series have sex before marriage willingly? Really?

Again, I know I'm thinking about it wayyyy more than Suzanne Collins ever did, but bruh. Bruh.

[iwtv-theories]

Iwtv S2e5: The theme of “being in love with death.” (Analysis)

Tw for mentions of su*cide and brief references of Armand’s Childhood tra*ma.

There’s one theme in ep 5 that connects all 3 characters (Armand, Daniel, and Louis) together. That theme is how all 3 of them are “half in love with… death.”

We have Louis in episode 5 purposely throw himself into the sun to end his own life . This act is partially caused by his guilt of not being able to save his family ( Paul & Claudia). Louis hallucinates Claudia “calling” him to the roof . And Louis goes to said roof top when the sun is out . This is a call back to how Paul ended his life on a rooftop during the sun rise. And how Claudia dies by being forced into the sun, so Louis does so voluntarily. Claudia's last words to Louis were "I was nothing but a roof shingle that fell off of your house” (echoing paul's self exit as well). Louis says about paul's death: "that was the last sunrise I ever saw. Perhaps the kindest thing the dark gift has given me. I don't miss the sun. The reminders it carries." The sun symbolizes the su*cide of Paul, the death of Claudia, and his own temptation to follow in his brother's footsteps. We also have Louis choose to end his mortal life the night of Paul’s funeral. Where he says he ‘wanted to die’ before Lestat shows up to the church and turns him. Armand telling Daniel "I've been calling you for some time", is also similar to Claudia "calling" Louis to the roof. It's symbolic of how Louis has had these thoughts since s1 . The temptation of death has been "calling for some time."

The scene of Armand trying to convince Daniel to die in ep 5 is based on a short story by Anne rice. Where he represents a grim reaper of sorts - where they “love him” as a symbol of death . But his words to his victims are also said to “represent his own desires” ( aka Armand’s desire to die). Why he says “WE” all long for the “end”. He’s including himself . Book Armand has also attempted in the past (when the sun could still hurt him). After the attempt he realizes , with annoyance, that he’s too old & Marius’ blood within him is too strong -for the sun to actually k*ll him.

We even see both Armand’s and Daniel’s desire to die visualized by the de@d body between them (as they mirror each other’s body language ) . And the very next line of dialogue is “ I don’t want - to die ?On that matter I know something you don’t .”

Armand while holding the body even tells Daniel “I’ll keep digging (in your mind) but I’m not sure if there’s more to you other than a hole.” Then he leaves to presumably burry the body in a hole in the ground . After this he later describes his second memory (which the book confirms was his first r*pe) . He says “ my second (memory)… an eager black hole.” On one hand he may be describing Daniel’s eagerness for the story but it could also represent Armand wanting to get buried into a hole after that traumatizing experience . People often joke about the possible s*xual innuendo of Armand calling Daniel a “hole”. But if so, the symbolism behind that s*xually coded statement is more bleak than simply that. We also aren’t sure if Daniel had a similarly traumatic experience in his childhood like Armand-it could possibly explain why at 20 he’s already an add*ct , who sells himself, is 1/2 in love with death, and is interested in stories of people who are often discarded by society . Note Louis says his own “first sin” is what made him feel like he’s somewhere “dark.” So when Armand thinks of his “first memory” he thinks of what he incorrectly perceives as his “first sin” -his second memory (which makes him feel like he’s somewhere dark , where he can’t seem to find his way out, like a HOLE).

Falsehoods in his story aside. It’s not a coincidence that Armand in Dubai says to Daniel : “they went mad , ended themselves: The only thing that kept me from the fire were the old (religious) rituals.” Daniel seeing him pray as Rashid (*may hint he still uses religious rituals, as a way to fight his temptation to go into the fire ).

During a religious episode , he even went into the sun ('for god') despite assuming he’d go to hell . Armand:"I held up my open arms to the blinding light. This sinner dies for Him! This sinner goes to Him.Cast me into Hell, Oh Lord, if that is Your will." So it's possibly that in the show (similar to Louis' mom) he believes people go to Hell if they commit su*cide. So as messed up as its sounds it could explain , one of the reasons, he targets su*cidal people in the show. Cause if he k*lls the humans who were going to end themselves anyways - well (from his skewed religious view ) he may think he's technically saving them from hell if he k*lls them first ? In the books he was also known for ending the lives of su*cidal vampires, and his logic and motivations were different : "“In a world where suffering is eternal and the line between life and death is blurred, sometimes the kindest act is to end the torment. I do not take life lightly, but for those who wish to leave this existence, I offer them peace. It is a mercy, a final act of compassion in a world devoid of it.” Personally I think he should leave su*cidal people alone, but his motivations are certainly morally gray, if he truly believes that.

This also could explain one of the various reasons he choses the coven over Louis & Claudia (in the show). He already stated he believed Claudia throwing herself into the fire (like Nikki) was inevitable. Cough it wasn’t . And he probably already knew (via mind reading) about Louis’ su*cidality . Right after Armand agrees to the plan - he walks in on Louis with his wrists opened up (which probably solidified his choice further).

Assad even said that Armand is traumatized by Louis’ attempt in episode 5 . And even though Armand’s actions aren’t excusable. If he truly believed that Louis would go to hell if he committed . Armand’s motivations for erasing Louis’ memory of the attempt are more compelling and give more nuance to his character . He erased Louis attempt like he erased the slashes on his wrists. Even if his love for Louis is VERY warped: it’s the reason he couldn't let him die, nor help him end it (which is part of the reason why he erases his memories and essentially imprisons him in Dubai where he literally controls the windows and doors). It’s why he goes from letting Louis “f*ck off tri-annually” … to imprisonment. Even if he was agnostic : his motivations are certainly compelling even though they are not justifiable and go against Louis' autonomy.

What’s ironic is Armand with his su*cidal victims “calls” them to their death - but when the guilt of Claudia “calls” for Louis’ to end his life , Armand drags him back inside to prevent it .

What’s interesting is Daniel in episode 5 actively questions Louis’ desire to “end it” and fights Armand’s words about wanting “the end”. Because (unlike Louis or Armand) Daniel doesn’t perceive vampirism as (mortal) DEATH but as (eternal) LIFE! He “likes his life”. Deep down he "doesn’t want to REST (in peace)" via Armand. And in the end Armand essentially gave him what he wanted -unlimited life . A small part of him may have wanted death. But Armand may have actually sensed Daniel’s desire for a mortal death -because what Daniel ACTUALLY wanted was to be immortal. Field (young-Daniel’s actor) echoes somewhat similar sentiments.

Daniel being “half in love with death” probably signifies 2 things in the present storyline. His mixed feelings of accepting death at his old age vs his older desire for immortality (he may have been '50/50' on it in ) . But also it possibly foreshadows how he’ll eventually be “HALF IN LOVE” with Armand (who is the symbol of his mortal “DEATH “and the beginning of his immortal life).

[canisalbus]

your mention of working at a cemetery makes me think! have you ever done any artwork inspired by church grims, or is there anything like that in machetes world/story? theyre an old fave of mine back when i was really into folklore 🖤

I don't think I've ever drawn any church grims, but I feel like I definitely should! It's got that mix of animals, folklore, religion and macabre that I find hard to resist.

To my understanding church grim customs are pretty specific to parts of the Nordics and the British isles, so you probably wouldn't encounter them in Vasco's and Machete's setting, but I can't see why they wouldn't exist in their world per se. Instead of dogs they could use other farm animals, I've heard of goats and sheep being a typical animal offering.

[haliotropes]

Black Star (Rustin Cohle x OC)

6. And One Day | Rated M

A/N: canon typical talk of grim topics

₊˚ ✧.* ೃ ₊˚ ✧.* ೃ ₊˚ ✧.* ೃ ₊˚ ✧.* ೃ

Kenny wakes with a pounding head and stiff limbs. She moves her hand over to pet for Froggy, but it falls upon flat air. Then she stirs, and the plastic of the chair creaks under her. This is when Kenny realizes she isn’t in her bed at home.

She sits up and the light of morning, or day, could be afternoon but she sincerely hopes not. Not even immediately, but through a haze, she realizes she’s inside of Rust’s apartment. She’s alone, because obviously he’s at work. His wall of evidence tilts into focus as Kenny orients herself. Tries to remember what exactly she had done, said, or tried to do or say last night. Nothing extreme comes to mind, so she takes that as a small victory instead of a testament to how hard she hit the bottle.

Marie…

Kenny pushes herself up despite the fact that she's not fully awake. Stumbles toward the wall where she spies a couple polaroids of the geometric stick configurations that had been left at Dora Lange's site and in the Fontenot backyard. Groggily, Kenny peels them from the wall and slips them into her back pocket. She knows Rust will notice eventually, but these are good photos, and she's going to need a good reference for the plans she's forming in her still recovering head.

-

Rust's only real concern about leaving Kenny at his apartment was that she'd find his stash of pills from Carla. But, if she's fighting her prescription medications, she's probably not fighting to get ahold of someone else's. It barely puts his mind at ease about her.

They visit the commune and get Dora's bag, and around all those girls, Rust is thinking about Kenny. How close to the edge she always seems to be. How she dances along the precipice with a smile on her face and it's both fascinating and infuriating.

Rust is a hypocrite. Byproduct of the job. She's so lucky but she's so close to being devastated. These girls at this commune got here by some sad story or another, but he's willing to bet none of them had ever planned for it.

And just as he saw the power and violence in Kenny the first day they met, he sees her form now in the faces and bodies of these women, and he keeps his eyes to the ground most of the day.

They visit the burned church and Rust wonders if an attack on a holy building will trigger further repose from Tuttle and his gang. He can't stand it.

He wonders if Kenny believes in god and makes a note to ask her soon.

And on their way home, Rust remembers that birds in large numbers can create all sorts of strange patterns, and so maybe what he saw outside the church wasn't a hallucination. Still, he stares out the window of the car and waits for something to shift and turn evil.

“You alright, man? You seem distracted today.”

Marty asks from the driver's seat. Rust is always in deep thought, but apparently that thought was observably wandering.

“Yeah, I'm fine.”

“Alright. Listen, have you heard from Kenny? I thought about calling her after the Fontenot thing but, I don't know, I didn't wanna…I wanted to give her space, you know?”

Rust knows this is an opportunity, or rather, a test. If he isn't honest here, and it comes out, Marty will have no reason to trust him again.

“She came over last night,” Rust says as unaffected as he can. He feels Marty's eyes flick from him to the road.

“Kenny came over.”

“Yeah.”

“...Oh. Um. What did you…”

“We talked about Marie, she told me about her past, then she fell asleep dead drunk in one of my chairs so I let her stay.”

“She go home in the morning?”

Rust wonders why he asks.

“I left before she did.”

“So you weren't there when she woke up.”

“No.”

Then, Marty chuckles.

“Shit, man. You're gonna have shit missing.”

Rust looks over at him.

“What?”

“I'm telling you. The way you have all that shit stacked up in your place? Hope there wunn't any pertinent information laying around.”

“She knows better.”

Marty nods.

“She does. But that doesn't mean that she'll do better. Wonder what it'll be.”

Two photographs, as it turns out. Both of the devil traps at Dora Lange's site. Rust definitely knows this could be worse, but he's not out of the woods yet. He needs to go get them back, and he's not entirely prepared for whatever he's going to find when he gets there.

It's nearly seven when Rust pulls up to Kenny's farm. Sure enough, her covered porch has about four devil traps hanging from it, all increasingly better in quality from one to the next. Froggy is laying lazily on the porch and he picks his head up when he hears Rust's truck.

By the time Rust makes it up to the house, Kenny is coming outside. She doesn't look the least bit guilty, rather looks like she expected him. She's in overalls that are stained with paint and grease and her hair is pulled up and away from her face. Reading glasses are perched on her nose and Rust knows she's been working.

He looks at her. They're keeping eye contact now, longer than ever before. He moves his jaw back and forth as he debates what to say.

“Hey, detective,” she greets. Her voice drifts the honeysuckle into his mind’s eye and he shakes his head to get it away. He points to the traps.

“You gotta take these down.”

He goes to the one she obviously made first- obvious by the fact that it's barely staying together in its shape. Kenny watches him in interest as Rust reaches up to untie it.

“Practicing arts and crafts as a means of enrichment-”

“I'm not playing around, Kenny. Take em down. And I need my photos back.”

Rust sets the first trap down on the porch railing. Kenny crosses her arms.

“Why’re you so wigged out by me having em up?”

“Aside from it bein bad form?”

Kenny shrugs. “No one comes out here.”

“It's dangerous.”

Kenny is quiet for a moment, processing his choice of word.

“Dangerous?”

“And you know it.”

Now more frustrated with her, because she either is oblivious or stubborn or fucking with him, Rust moves to the next trap. Kenny follows.

“Whoever is killin these girls is not gonna wander out here and be offended I copied his art-”

“Well first of all, you wrote an inflammatory piece about Dora Lange, so you made it personal-”

“How the hell was it inflammatory-?”

“And you are a young woman, vulnerable, who is very openly investigating him.”

He isn't sure why they're arguing. Could blame it on the heat but the day is milder than they've been lately and he's barely breaking a sweat. Indignation colors Kenny's face.

“And so you think I'm making myself a target? That he'll find out where I live, kill my dog, kidnap me, tie me up, cut me, rape me, build a shrine outta me?”

Rust winces like she hit him. “Christ, Kenny.”

“That's what you're implying, isn't it?”

Rust runs his hands down his face. She's not gonna budge in her opinion of this, so he goes back to square one.

“Gimme the photos.”

She doesn't move. Grinds her jaw and digs fingernails into the firm flesh or her bicep. Rust narrows his eyes at her.

“What's your plan, Kenny? What do you want from me?”

He watches her face flicker. Some internal conflict. He didn't really expect a fight out of her about this, and she clearly got what she needed from the pictures. Her deep frown resets to a thin line, then flicks up, down, her brow breaks and her whole face relaxes. Whatever the fight was, she lost it.

Kenny walks towards the door and Rust follows her inside. Crosby, Stills, and Nash plays from the stereo. Froggy pads behind them and yawns.

“We don't have to fight,” Kenny says with her back to him. “I'll give you the photos, but will you tell me where y'all went today?”

Rust looks around her place, trying to determine if there's been any major or minor changes that might indicate mania. That might suggest some sort of break.

“You stole evidence,” is all he says in response. Kenny straightens from the coffee table and holds out the photos.

“Sure did. You wanna talk about it? Here.”

He takes them, slides them into his back pocket. Lights a cigarette. Kenny twists her face.

“Come on, I'm done being mean. I'm sorry. We don't even have to be friends. Just miserable cop and miserable beat reporter.”

Rust breathes in, out. Decides to sit on the far end of the couch. Kenny follows suits.

“Not for printing.”

Kenny smiles and shrugs.

“My recorder’s in my car. I need more tape anyway.”

And so he tells her. Tells her all about the commune with those girls, Dora's diary, and the church. Tells her about the sort of things she wrote in there. And, despite how easily it all comes out, he doesn't speak of the birds.

“King in Yellow?” Kenny asks, her brow knit in deep thought.

“Yeah.”

“Don't that sound familiar to you?”

“No. Do you know it?”

Kenny stands and goes to a bookshelf by her stereo. “I dunno. Maybe? Sounds like a book or something. Have you looked into it?”

“No.”

Rust watches Kenny as she peruses her shelf. Who has so many books that they don't remember? Rust notices on her back right shoulder is a tattoo of an eye. He imagines for a moment, or maybe he doesn't imagine it, that it blinks at him.

Kenny turns, her search fruitless.

“I'll do it first thing tomorrow. Get me back on your good side.”

“Kenny-”

“Don’t act like y'all won't be too busy to work on it tomorrow.”

He doesn't fight her on it because he knows she's right. Rust sighs and puts out his cigarette. Suddenly doesn't feel like smoking anymore. He wipes a hand over his brow. Kenny goes to the kitchen. The fridge door opens and closes.

“We gotta find something. Fast.”

Kenny hands Rust a diet Coke and he opens it, drinks greedily. She plops down beside him on the sofa, closer this time.

“Is there a rush aside from the obvious?”

“Reverend Billy Lee Tuttle.” Rust draws the name out and Kenny chuckles.

“Ho-ly. I completely forgot. I woulda said something but Marie…he, uh, he called me on his way to the CID. Asked why I said Dora Lange's murder wasn't satanic.”

“You know him?”

Kenny snorts. “Hardly. Friend of my father's. Did he give y'all a hard time?”

“Threatening us with a task force.”

“I understand the urgency.”

“Any chance you can get him off our back?”

“Jesus. I mean, he and I don't like each other. At all. He's just nicer about it. I could…try? Or… hah,” she chuckles.

“What?”

“I could ask Daddy to call him off.”

Rust thinks of Commissioner Marsden and Reverend Billy Lee Tuttle and that conversation and he shakes his head immediately.

“I wouldn't ask that of you.”

Kenny leans her head against her hand and blinks, smiles. “Well… we'll save it for the worst case scenario. Where y'all going tomorrow?”

“Trying to find a tent revival.”

“Which one?”

“Friends of Christ.”

“Don't know em. That's gonna take you a far ways out.”

“Probably.”

Their voices grow lower. Kenny leans closer.

“Listen, about last night…there's a lot about me that's difficult. People don't really like. I don't really like. Took me a long time just to learn how to survive it. And sometimes it helps me do my work. Other times, it doesn't. But for the first time, it feels like I got somebody who understands. Maybe even…I don't know, relates. Not to make assumptions, but…anyway. thank you, I mean. For listening. For not being afraid.”

As she speaks, Rust looks over her freckled, scarred, tattooed skin.

He holds out his hand, his palm facing her. Kenny looks from his face to his hand, her eyes wide. Rust doesn't say anything, doesn't move. Slowly, Kenny slides her palm against his. Their lines meet and split and meet again. He can feel her pulse hammering under her skin.

Fingers shift opposite and slowly but suddenly they're interlocked. “Helplessly Hoping” begins to play and Rust shifts, pulling Kenny from the couch. At first, it's just his other hand on her upper back, hers with his shirt in a fist. He waits for her to relax, and then they draw closer. Soon, they're swaying.

“You ever heard of synesthesia?” Rust asks.

“Like, things have colors associated with em?”

The way her voice vibrates through his shirt makes him shiver.

“Not just colors, but yeah.”

Kenny looks up at him. They're looking each other in the eyes now.

“Is that why you seem so far away sometimes?”

Rust cracks a smile. “Plenty of reasons for that.”

Kenny presses her cheek to his shoulder. Rust is tall, but Kenny isn't short, so she comes up to a little under his chin.

“What color am I?”

He had been hoping she'd ask.

“Dark cherry red. Shiny. Slow. Intentional.”

He thinks of the word dripping but decides not to use it.

“Sweet?”

“No, you don't taste like cherries.”

“What do I taste like?” she all but whispers. Rust's voice is husky when he answers.

“Earth. Smoke. Honeysuckle.”

Their bodies are flush now. For an infinite list of reasons, he does not initiate what they both want. So Kenny does. Slides her hand, shaking, to just where his neck meets the rest of him, fingers curl around, and she draws him down and pulls herself up.

-

His top lip between hers and mouths slightly ajar, almost as if they're surprised with themselves. He is every bit as hard and soft as Kenny had expected him to be. Wanted him to be.

She's shaking all over. Being this close to him would have been enough. Touching him, letting him touch her, was beyond it all. But now, to kiss him…

Kenny thinks she's a little in love.

Their hands detangle. Hers goes to his shoulder and Rust holds her by the waist. A bit of teeth, a bit of tongue. Kenny breaks to kiss and then breathe against his cheek. Rust's mouth travels down her jaw and lands at her neck.

They still. Kenny is pressed like a board against him and though she feels the warmth, her own blood pulsing loud in her ears, she wraps her arms around his next and pulls him into a hug.

Rust gets the message. He holds her back and one hand lands in her hair.

They hold each other until the song runs out. Rust strokes Kenny's hair- what of it isn't still tied up.

“You gotta be careful out there, okay?” She whispers against his shirt.

“Inn’t that what I was telling you earlier?”

“Yeah, well, you can knock down my stick figures but I can't follow you from place to place.”

“Quitter.”

Kenny laughs at that and he smiles. She likes his smile, rare as it is. She gets to see the lines in his face properly. Lifted, not pulled down by grief or fatigue.

“Well, I'll let you know what I find, and you let me know what you find,” she says.

“We'll see.”

“I could ransom all those murder books at your place.”

Rust checks his watch.

“Shit. Speaking of…I gotta go. Marty and I got an early start tomorrow.”

They finally release each other and Kenny finds herself cold without him.

“I mean it. Both of you- careful. People out there… they're different than here. Harder.”

“Careful,” Rust nods. He hooks a knuckle under Kenny's chin and lifts her face to his. “And you take that last trap down.”

“Alright.”

“Promise?”

She chuckles.

“Promise.”

“Alright.”

He kisses her quickly on the lips, and then he's out the door. Kenny follows, lets Froggy out as Rust gets in his truck. He gives a final wave before driving away.

A breeze wafts through and Kenny gets a chill. Sun's setting so she calls Froggy back in. Her lips are still buzzing with the kiss she shared with Rust. She finishes both their diet Cokes. The devil's trap goes untouched.

[sequinsmile-x]

Even Statues Crumble if They’re Made to Wait - Part 3

She can't stop thinking about the fact she isn't even meant to be here. That she's still supposed to be at home on maternity leave instead of sitting in a church in Colorado wondering if she'd ever see her husband or her little girl again.

A Minimal Loss AU with a Young Hotchniss twist.

Part 3/4

Part 1, Part 2

-x-

Hi friends <3

Thanks for the love on this story so far - it means the world. Young Hotchniss is so fun to write and writing it mixed in with one of my fav episodes?! Amazing.

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 3.7k

Warnings: Aaron Hotchner whump, (flashback) canon typical violence, references to domestic violence/Aaron's childhood.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

April 1999

She knows something is wrong the moment Dave’s name flashes on the screen of her cell phone, because there was only one reason he’d be calling. 

He and Aaron had an agreement, that if one of them was hurt and couldn’t get in touch with their loved ones as a result, they’d call the other’s wife. Aaron often joked that if the time ever came he hoped he’d remember which one of Dave’s wives to call, something that would always make the older man roll his eyes as they both laughed at him. 

She abandons the translations she’d been doing, her focus immediately pulled from the documents spread across her desk as she grabs her phone, ignoring the slight shake of her hands. 

“Dave?” 

“Emily.”

The way he says her name, the kindness and sympathy woven through it makes her clench her teeth, her eyes fixed on her desk as she feels her colleagues’ gazes burning into her side, their concern enough to make her feel anger she knows isn’t justified. 

“What’s wrong? Where’s Aaron? Is he…”

“He was shot, Bella,” he says and it feels like she’s suddenly underwater, the sound of her heartbeat so loud in her head that her hearing fades out, a high-pitched ringing loudly in her ears. 

Rationally, she’d always known that his joining the BAU would put him at risk. She knew that. He was hunting and capturing dangerous people, people who had nothing left to lose as the net started to close around them. In the 6 months since he’d joined, he’d had close calls. He’d come home to her with bruises and cracked ribs and been nothing short of impossible as he healed. That had been hard enough to watch, her breath catching in her chest whenever she’d see his mottled skin, whenever he’d wince if he moved in just the wrong way but this was worse. Something she’d actively avoided thinking about each time he left their home and kissed her goodbye.

This was the first time she could actually lose him. 

“We’re at George Washington,” Dave says, “I’ll stay here until you arrive.”

She swallows thickly and nods even though he can’t see her, and she suddenly finds herself overwhelmed with gratitude the case had been local, that she’d seen him only a few hours ago. She’d been half asleep, curled around his pillow as he kissed her forehead and told her he loved her. She couldn’t remember if she said it back. They’d said it so often over the years, the term no less meaningful even though it was now a habit, that she couldn’t remember if she’d said it, if she’d lost her last ever chance to. 

“Okay,” she says, already standing up, “I’ll be right there.” 

She hangs up without saying anything else and grabs her bag, offering her team a half-explanation, asking them to tell their boss, as she leaves, all of her focus on getting to her husband. When she arrives at the hospital she doesn’t remember getting there. Doesn’t remember a moment of the journey or anything other than the need to see Aaron, to touch him and feel his warm skin beneath hers.

She finds Dave in the waiting room. He stands up as soon as he sees her and she can’t hide her gasp when she spots the patches on his shirt, a grim pattern of her husband’s blood drying on their friend's shirt. 

“Dave…”

“He’s in surgery,” Dave says, his smile forced and tight, an expression she’s sure he means to be reassuring, “The unsub got the drop on us. He was waiting and Aaron was first through the door. He is in surgery, the doctors said it looks good so far.”

She chokes on a laugh and shakes her head, wondering what could possibly be good about the fact her husband had been shot, and she briefly closes her eyes, heaving in a breath to try and calm herself before she looks at Dave again. She swallows thickly as she sees the look that flicks over his face, something he tries and fails to cover, “What aren’t you telling me?” 

Dave sighs, his hands on his hips as he tries to weigh up what he’s about to tell her. He clears his throat, “He coded in the ambulance.” 

A wave of nausea almost knocks her over, her stomach rolling in a way that must make her sway on the spot if the way Dave reaches out, his hands on her elbows to steady her is anything to go by, “He…he coded? He died?” 

“Emily,” Dave says, tightening his hold on her, forcing her to look at him, “They brought him back. Someone comes out to give me an update every 30 minutes or so and they’ll be here soon.”

She nods and blows out a breath that shudders through her. She struggles to fill her lungs again, her airways stuffed full of preemptive grief she can’t help but feel despite Dave’s assurances. She sits down, not sure her legs can hold her up any longer, and he sits next to her, ready to provide whatever she needs. They sit in silence. It’s all she can take. The thought of talking, of trying to pretend everything was okay, too much to take. It would break her and she didn’t want to break. Couldn’t break until she knew Aaron was okay. 

Eventually, a doctor comes out and calls out for Aaron’s family. She tells her that she’s his wife before she’s even finished speaking, and the relief Emily feels when she’s told Aaron is out of surgery is palpable. She barely remembers to acknowledge Dave as she’s led to Aaron’s room, the need to see him overriding everything else. 

He’s still unconscious when she sits on the edge of his bed. He almost looks like he’s sleeping, but the pallor of his skin and the bandage peeking out from under his hospital gown give away the trauma he’d been through today. She wraps her hands around one of his, the coolness of his skin, something she knows is down to blood loss, makes her chest ache. She lifts his hand and kisses his knuckles. 

“I love you,” she mutters, pressing her lips against his skin again, “I love you so much.” 

Every minute that it takes for him to wake up feels like a lifetime, her hopes dashed every time she sees his face twitch and he doesn’t open his eyes. When he eventually squeezes her hand, his eyes fluttering open as he groans, she feels relief wash over her, tears she’d been suppressing for hours pressing at the back of her eyes. 

“Hi honey,” she says quietly, kissing his knuckles before she unhooks one hand from around his and cups his cheek, “Welcome back.”

“Wha…what happened?” He rasps out, his voice thick with sleep and pain and she reaches for the small cup of water next to his bed, holding the straw in place for him to take a sip.

“You were shot,” she says, her voice shaking as her vision gets even blurrier, “Dave called me.” 

He gratefully drinks the water and squeezes her hand again, “You okay?” 

She chokes on a laugh and leans in, stamping her lips against his, “You’re the one who was shot and you’re asking if I’m okay?” 

He tries to reach for her but groans, the movement pulling at his chest in a way that makes pain spread throughout his body. She shushes him, leaning in closer, giving herself to him willingly as she rests her forehead against his. 

“If I got that call about you, I wouldn’t be okay,” he says, his breath warm as it skips across her face. It’s the thing that tips her over the edge, makes tears that she’d been resisting all day slip from her skin to his. Warm drops of her sorrow burning his still slightly too cool skin. “Hey, I’m okay,” he says, hating that his body isn’t cooperating, that he can’t pull her into his arms, “I’m okay sweetheart.” 

She sits up and wipes his cheeks and then hers, “I can’t remember if I told you I love you this morning.” 

He frowns, his brain muddled with anaesthetic and painkillers, “What?”

Her smile shakes as she straightens out the cannula delivering him oxygen, “When you left this morning. I couldn’t remember if I said it back. It’s all I could think about after Dave called…” she wipes more tears from her cheeks as they fall, “I couldn’t remember if I said it and I thought I’d never get the chance again.” 

He kisses her, his lips dry against hers, and he does his best to smile when they pull back, “I know you love me, Em. I’ve always known,” his smile turns dopey, an unrestrained edge to it she knows is the medication he’s on, “I knew you loved me even before you did.”

She chokes on a laugh and nods, resting her forehead against his again as she closes her eyes, desperate to seek out the scent of him underneath all of the antiseptic, “I wish I could argue with that. But you totally did.” 

“We’ve never needed the words, baby,” he assures her, “I love you and you love me. Everything else is just confetti.”

She smiles and kisses his forehead, “You are high as a fucking kite, my love,” she says, “You’re saying all kinds of crap you usually wouldn’t.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not usually thinking it,” he grumbles and she chuckles, the sound wet as it catches in her chest, the weight of the day settling on her shoulders. 

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” she says, pressing her lips together as she tries to stop her chin from trembling. She runs her fingers through his hair again, fussing over him in the only way she could right now. “I’m too young to be a widow.” 

He hums thoughtfully, “Me too. Let’s make a pact - no more getting hurt at work for either of us.”

She knows it’s a promise they can’t keep. That even though she’s more office based than he is right now there were still risks involved when she was in the field, and that in the future she would likely move to another team anyway. But right now, with his hand in hers and his sleepy smile focused on her, she can’t bring herself to argue with him.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, mister.”

___

Aaron checks his watch as he paces the hotel room, his lips against Alice’s temple as he holds her to his chest, his hand running circles on her back as she resists sleep. 

“I know, princess,” he says soothingly, “I know. Mommy is my favourite person to fall asleep on too,” he says, kissing her dark hair as she finally starts to settle, her cries turning into whimpers, “But she’ll be back soon.”

He continues pacing, talking about anything and everything to his little girl. Emily always said Alice had found his voice soothing even when she was still pregnant with her, that she’d only stop kicking and finally give Emily the chance to sleep when he spoke to her. His cheek against Emily’s bump as he told their baby about his day. 

He tilts his head to check on her after she’s been silent for a while and sighs in relief when he sees she’s asleep, her mouth slightly open with her cheek pressed against his chest. His phone rings just as he sets Alice down, immediately waking the grumpy baby back up and he groans as he picks her back up.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he says, kissing the side of her head as he settles her against his chest, “Daddy should have put his phone on silent.” He picks his phone up and sighs at Derek’s name on the screen before he answers, placing the phone between his ear and shoulder so he can soothe his daughter, “This better be good, Morgan.”

“Turn on the news.” 

He frowns, Derek’s tone abrupt even for him, “What’s-”

“Hotch,” he says, almost pleading with him, “Turn on the news.” 

He sighs and looks for the remote for the television, “One second,” he says, sighing as he finds it and switching it on, “You know I’m not working today,” he says, flicking through channels until he gets to the news, “I’m in Colorado with…”

He drifts off as he lands on the right channel, the headline makes his breath catch in his chest.

Raid at Separatarian Sect turns into deadly shootout. 

He clenches his teeth, the weight of his daughter against his chest the only thing keeping him grounded as he spits out his response down the phone “What the hell happened?” 

Derek tells him what he knows, the limited information they already had about the failed police raid they hadn’t known about and says that the team are on the way. He doesn’t try and argue with Aaron when he says he’ll see them at the scene, each as aware as the other that it would be a waste of time and effort.

When he shows up at the crime scene, Alice strapped against his chest in the baby carrier Penelope had bought them, he flashes his badge at the confused officers manning the barriers but gets past them with little argument. The hours it takes for the team to arrive drag by, every passing minute feeling like a wasted opportunity to get Emily and Spencer out of the compound. Alice sleeps through most of it, safe and content against his chest and mercifully unaware of what is unfolding around her. 

He doesn’t waste a second to talk to the team when they do arrive, barely giving Dave a chance to get out of the car before he tells him he wants him on point for the negotiation. Dave is fighting him on it, questioning why Aaron is there at all, when he hears a commotion behind him, a man in a suit that costs more than Aaron earns in a month walking towards them.

“I’m the attorney general of this state and I demand to know why I wasn’t told the FBI were doing a covert operation at the Separatarian Ranch.”

Aaron feels his patience snap and he walks over, Dave just a few paces behind him in case he needs to intervene, “The only thing you’re in a position to demand is a lawyer.” 

The Attorney General looks him up and down, his eyes lingering on the sleeping baby strapped to Aaron’s chest, “Who the hell are you?” 

“I’m Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the BAU and I’ll be the one telling the Attorney General of the United States whether to charge you with obstructing a federal investigation or negligent homicide.” 

“You can’t talk to me like that.” 

He steps closer, his jaw tight as he gets in the face of the other man, “One of the agents in there is my wife,” he says, watching as the Attorney General’s eyes go wide and he takes a small step back, “If anything happens to her because of your incompetence I can assure you that whatever charges brought down on you will be the least of your concerns. Now get off my crime scene.” 

For a second, he thinks he’s going to argue with him, but he backs off, shaking his head as he walks back towards his car and climbs in the back. 

“It’s strangely impressive.” 

Aaron turns to look at Dave, the small smirk on his face seeming out of place, “What is?” 

“The fact you’re still very intimidating whilst you have a baby strapped to your chest.” 

A strangled chuckle escapes him and then he clears his throat, “You’re happy to brief everyone?”

Dave nods, “Yes. You’ll speak to JJ?”

“I’ll brief her now,” he replies, turning to walk towards where JJ had set up, but Dave stops him. 

“We’ll get her out, Aaron.” 

He freezes in place, his hand on Alice’s back as he nods, “Yeah.”

He isn’t entirely sure he believes it. 

___

He was used to violence. He’d grown up around it. It permeated the walls of his childhood home, his father’s anger living in every corner. Every crevice. He didn’t need his training as a profiler to know that’s why he’d sought out the career he had, why he seemed to chase those who spread violence around them like a fire, desperate to put out each flame. 

When Emily was pregnant, he worried he’d turn into his father. The fear had settled into his bones, heavy and suffocating as he finally broke one night and told her what he was worried about. She’d held him close, his head against her chest as she told him he was as far from his own father as it was possible to get. That she’d never once thought he’d turn into him, that she only felt safe around him. 

It’s a conversation that he’s reminded of as he hears her getting beaten by Cyrus, the sound of fists and steel-capped boots hitting skin a flashback to when he was too young to understand not every home was like his. 

He’s grateful JJ convinced him to let her take Alice back to the hotel, that his little girl was likely asleep in the travel cot in their hotel room and far away from what was happening here. What he’d caused to happen. He was the one who asked Emily to come, who convinced her they could make it work, and he’d never forgive himself if he lost her. 

He’d never forgive himself no matter what the outcome. 

His instinct is to tear off his headset, his entire body folding in on itself as he holds it in place, forcing himself to bear witness to the situation he’d put her in. The way she breathes in sharply as she anticipates Cyrus’s next blow is familiar, a strange echo from when she’d do the same at the start of each of her contractions during her labour with Alice. It’s a comparison he hates. It makes his skin crawl, anger thrumming under his skin that he has to ignore so he doesn’t burst into the compound himself putting her and everyone else in there in more danger than they already were. 

“I can take it.” 

“She’s antagonising him,” Derek says as Emily’s repeated words crackle down the line and Dave shakes his head, his gaze fixed on Aaron.

“No, she’s not talking to him.” 

“She’s talking to us,” Aaron clenches his teeth, his hands in sharp fists at his sides. He’d always loved her bravery. It was one of the many things he had always been enamoured with - one of the many things that had always somehow made her more beautiful. For the first time ever, he finds himself hating it. Wishing that she’d put herself first for once,  “She’s telling us not to go in.” 

He forces himself to listen for longer than Dave and Derek do, the grunts of pain coming from her evidence that she was alive. It’s only when she’s dragged from the room, the sound of Cyrus’s men taunting her fading as they get further away, that he finally tears off the headset.

___

“Alice is fine, Hotch,” JJ assures him, her voice quiet as she whispers down the phone, “She took the bottle okay and she’s sleeping. I’m kind of hoping my baby is as chill as she is.”

He sighs, his head in his hand as he chuckles humourlessly, “Trust me, she can scream the house down when she wants to.” 

“How are things going?” 

He looks at the compound, his eyes fixed on the church, “They just went in. Dave told me if I tried to go in with them he’d tell Strauss to suspend me. I should go. Keep an eye out for the survivors coming out.”

He knows she hears what he hasn’t said, that he’d only be looking for Emily, wanting to see her as soon as possible. To assess the damage Cyrus had done, hoping more than anything that it wasn’t as bad as he’d imagined. 

“Call me when you have her,” JJ says, “I’ll bring Alice to you as soon as it’s safe.” 

“Thanks, JJ.”

He paces back and forth, his arms tight across his chest as he watches the front of the church intently. He steps towards it as people start to trickle out, the sound of gunfire raining in the background as men, women and children stumble out into the open air. He helps them, feeling useless standing there doing nothing, all too aware of the fact his wife would yell at him for not helping anyone. 

He keeps looking for her, his focus never on anything for too long, his gaze constantly drifting to the place she should be walking out of, the tension in his muscles increasing with every passing second

He’s directing a woman towards the medical tent just ahead of them when the church explodes behind him. It hurts his ears, the injury from New York still fresh enough that loud noises would knock him back but he pushes through it, the pain nothing in comparison to the fear that wraps around his heart as he turns to look at the church. He can’t spot his wife in amongst the crowd of people in front of him, the chaos and thick smoke and rancid burning in the air making it impossible to determine who had made it out from this distance. 

“Emily.” 

The way he yells is muted by the ringing still reverberating around his head, his chest vibrating with the name he’d said in every conceivable way since they’d first met. 

“Emily.”

Their life together flashes across his eyes as he blinks against the ash in the air. Her smile, her laughter, the way she loved him. He ignores the sheriff’s warnings as he runs towards the stumbling crowd, no longer able to keep himself back. 

“Emily.”

-x-

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[romewritingshop]

Just Like Magic

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Viscount!Choso x Maid/Reader

Warning: Swearing? Threatening behaviour and use of knife

MASTERLIST

A/N: Some of you may have read this before, I just had to make a few changes in narrative and now I feel it is ready. Part 1 might seem not much but part 2 will be a bit more different. Part 3 is coming soon. Thanks and I hope you enjoy. Let me know what you think! Follow, comment or reblog, IDC because I enjoy writing this fic. Please pay attention before reading.

(Y/N) felt a tight lodge in her throat as she waited in front of the church's double doors. She adjusted the collar of the blue dress whilst her mind wandered. Finally the moment she had long awaited for had arrived. Three years and she was at the start of the fanfic she read but actually being in it was a different experience.

A gruff noise came from behind her which had (Y/N) freeze in her position. With a nervous glance, she felt blood flush from her face as a tall stoic man, with a thick small moustache, dressed in a regal purple robe. Still looking ugly and menacing in the last two years, since she had arrived in this world.

Duke Kenjaku had a cursory glint in his eyes as he examined (Y/N) from head to toe. After what seemed to be a lifetime, the Duke gave a grim satisfied nod as he stepped up to stand next to (Y/N), taking out a tentative hand out for her to hold on.

"You clean up decently for a servant girl."

(Y/N) bowed her head down, not wanting to respond to his comment. She had to tread carefully around this man, watching the doors as an empty church hall was unveiled to them; save for two men at the other end of the hall. The Duke plastered a cheshire grin as he began to lead (Y/N) down the aisle.

"I hope you remember my proposal. It would be wise of you not to turn back on your word, lest you would like to face the consequences of your actions."

(Y/N) gave a nod but he squeezed her hand tightly, expecting a verbal response.

"I remember clearly, your Grace."

If she didn't value her life so highly, she would have stabbed him to death. But right now was the start of the plot, the character that drew her in. (Y/N) lifted her head up to take a proper look at the man she was going to marry. The man with a rectangular mark on his nose, his eyes held a world of love. It felt like a stab at her heart because she knew it wasn't directed for her but for someone else he was expecting under the veil.

Her soon-to-be husband was Itadori Choso of Kaprines. Choso was a knight-turned-viscount who fought in the war against Wotrea and was relatively well known. From what she remembered about the story, Choso wanted to marry Lady Yorozu because he fell for her at first sight. However the Duke had another plan in mind hence (Y/N) was in a veil and wedding dress.

She met Choso at the altar. He politely bowed to which she and the Duke returned the gesture. He held out a gloved hand for her to grasp on as she finally stepped up to meet him, looking up to connect her eyes to his; before they turned to face the priest.

(Y/N) couldn’t tell how she felt. It had been three years since she was transported into this world. In that time, she had to quickly learn her role as a maid and integrate herself into society. Once again, she was going to have to do the same thing for she was marrying into nobility. Although the character she transported into was a reader insert so she could have any personality she wanted. And she was glad that of the Jujutsu Kaisen characters she read, she was with the one she liked most, Choso.

She faintly understood what the priest was saying and after what seemed to be an eternity the priest announced to the guests.

"If any person rejects this marriage, speak now or forever hold thine peace."

(Y/N) was tempted to speak out, to scream that she was forced into this marriage, to scream that the Duke was misleading Choso but no words could come to her throat. If she did speak, then worse was to come not just to her but her brother. In this story, Toge Innumaki was her brother. The sweet young man, who was mute in this book. She couldn’t have Duke Kenjaku hurt him. Again. Then came the dreaded words.

"Sir Itadori Choso, do you take Lady Kenjaku Yorozu of Shiuh Shia to be your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, 'til death do thee part?"

"I do."

"Lady Kenjaku Yorozu, do you consent to Sir Itadori Choso of Kaprines taking you as his lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, 'til death do thee part?"

"I consent."

(Y/N) said all too quickly and it dawned on her that they were now finally married. She now faced her husband, raising her head for him and getting ready for him to kiss her when he turned to the priest with a hushed tone. (Y/N) seemed confused, before it dawned on her that this was the exact moment that made her fall in love with the story as Choso turned back with a big smile on his face.

He stepped close to (Y/N), gently grasping her arms and leaning down to press a soft kiss on her forehead. After the kiss, he leant down to her ear to explain.

"I wish to save our proper kiss for our consummation tonight. I admit I'm afraid that I would act improperly if I were to kiss you on the lips."

(Y/N) felt her heart melt at his caring nature as she gazed at his loving expression, also surprised at his unconditional affection towards her. But deep down inside, where her gut swirled with uncertainty and unease, the affection was not meant for her. The wedding was now complete, Choso stepped down a little distance away so that (Y/N) could say her goodbyes.

"Is my brother safe now, your grace?"

"Your brother is safe. You, however, may not be. You have to pay the price once he learns the truth. After all, your job is to do as your master says."

There was a tinge of threat laced in his last statement. On the one hand, she was glad that Toge was safe but now she realises the painful part of the story that is to start. There was nothing else she could say but to accept her fate as she turned to see her husband gazing adoringly at her.

The Duke stepped away from (Y/N) to talk to Choso, probably saying some false comforting words about taking care of his 'daughter'. After a few brief moments, Choso stepped away from the Duke to go to his wife.

"We are leaving for my palace now. Your effects have already arrived at the palace."

(Y/N) gave a nod and held on to Choso's outstretched hand before being led by him to the carriage that was waiting outside. She was uncertain of what the future held for her now. One thing was certain, she was not going to play the story exactly as she read. It was an angsty story with no satisfaction for romance, but it was written descriptively well and it made her sob endlessly for days. Right now, she needed to tell him the truth whilst finding a way to not be killed.

The both of them settled opposite one another and the carriage set off. The sun was beginning to set as (Y/N) stared out the window, a wide range of thoughts running through her head.

"What are you thinking about, Princess?"

(Y/N) frowned at the wording and shifted her head to turn to Choso, who was leant back against the seat. It was at this moment she finally took a glance at his attire which seemed to make her bashful as he wore a same colour blue blazer with a white shirt and white trousers. A blue coloured shawl with embroidered blue anemones and ravens was draped across his torso and pinned to the shoulder. There were many golden thread embroidery stitches along the hem of the blazer. He had matched well with her and dressed impeccably.

He was nothing like the Choso she knew, though it was a fanfiction story. Only the personality of Choso was here and not his style of clothes that he would originally wear. It was time to forget her old life and start anew.

"Nothing in particular my Lord."

"Call me Choso, Princess."

(Y/N) felt heat flush her cheeks as she stared straight at her husband, torn to say anything.

"If you do not want to then you can whisper it to me in our room tonight."

(Y/N)'s eyes widened as she glanced up at her husband, who had a smug grin. He seemed to revel in teasing (Y/N) or to Yorozu. Maybe Choso and Lady Yorozu were closely acquainted. Wait no, what she remembered was that Choso had fallen for Yorozu at first sight. He didn't know what a truly awful woman she was. Her hands clenched tightly as she said nothing and snapped her head to the window.

Choso noticed this and leant forward to grasp her hand with reassurance, slightly embarrassed that he had scared his wife.

"Yorozu … I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

(Y/N) felt her throat hitch at his apology. In a few hours, he would take back the apology. Choso gave a soft smile and leant back to glance out the window, sitting in silence, as the carriage rode for three hours. It wasn't long before (Y/N) could finally see the palace come to view. It was captivating as the lanterns illuminated the palace walls and towers. It stood tall and proud as the carriage halted in front of the palace doors.

The entrance was empty save for a tall imposing man with blonde hair, dressed in black trousers and a blue buttoned shirt, matched with a beige robe. This man seemed to be important as he bowed at the carriage before stepping forward and opening the door. Choso stepped down first, exchanging polite greetings with the man before turning to the carriage to help his bride step off the carriage. Once (Y/N) got off, Choso closed the carriage door which signalled to the footman to drive the carriage down to the stables.

(Y/N) turned to face the man, who seemed to have a rather grim expression on his face. Choso didn’t seem to notice this as he rambled.

“This is Nanami. He is the head housekeeper and helps me manage the estate. Should you require anything, please ask him.”

(Y/N) gave a polite nod and smile as Nanami graciously bowed in respect.

“It is a pleasure to meet you my Lady.”

(Y/N) curtseyed in response before Choso began to lead (Y/N) inside the palace, rather hurriedly; it was certain that he was eager to spend time with her. The windows brought a glow of moonshine into the palace which made it easier for Choso to see where he was going. (Y/N) was unsure about why he was rushing and it wasn’t long when Choso threw his doors open to a large room.

It was grand and spacious with ivory coloured walls. The walls had embedded designs of arches with gold lining. There was a balcony that was large and concave shaped, a simple bench was at the front and thin gossamer curtains hung across the door. The bed was a four poster bed with pale green bed sheets and embroidered blue flowers. There was life to the room as (Y/N) stepped in to take in the design.

Choso quietly shut the bedroom doors and stepped towards his wife, clasping her shoulders and leaning close to her as if sharing a secret.

“What do you think of our room?”

It suddenly dawned on (Y/N) that this was her room. Her and her husband’s room. Her husband, who thought she was Lady Yorozu. It’s gone on for far too long and he needed to know the truth. She opened her mouth to start.

“Our room?”

It wasn’t what she wanted to say but she felt a tight lodge in her throat that refused to speak the truth. This was silly but Choso hummed as he slowly turned his wife to face him, his heart pounding against his ribs. He needed to be confident for his new wife.

“Yes. Is it not our duty as husband and wife to share a room?”

“That is true.”

“And should they not also share the same bed?”

(Y/N) felt heat grow in her cheeks as she bowed her head to look away, he wasn’t going to let her be shy when he had gained the strength to be confident. He curled a finger under her chin and lifted her face to look directly into the silhouette of her face which was still hidden under the veil. It hadn’t dawned on him that he had yet to take off her veil and to see her face in its true beauty.

“My dear wife. With your consent, may I share my body with yours? As a husband should.”

As he was saying the words, he was slowly lifting her veil up. (Y/N) felt her blood run cold and her limbs froze as she stared into Choso’s eyes. Shock settled over the both of them as Choso lost his joyful loving expression. It couldn’t be. Choso stumbled back, staying a clear distance from her, bewildered by the unknown woman in front of him.

“Who are you? And where is my wife?”

(Y/N) didn’t respond which made him snap in anger, almost lunging forward and reached behind him, pulling a dagger out and pressing the sharp edge of it against (Y/N)’s neck.

Fear began to fester in her body as her body began to convulse with short rapid breaths and her eyes welled up with tears. The cool sharp edge of the knife was pressing into the side of her neck and she was sure that if she moved, he would have easily sliced across and killed her instantly. She fucked up and didn't tell him the truth in time. Choso was shaking uncontrollably with a mixture of fear and adrenaline. He couldn’t believe his eyes as he began to roar.

“Where is my wife?!”

(Y/N) choked back a cry as she clenched her fists tighter.

“Choso I-”

“Don’t call me Choso!”

She blinked back tears and glanced up at the ceiling. She mustered up whatever courage she could and began trying to defend herself.

“Pardon me, my Lord but I am your wife.”

“That is impossible! I wed to Lady Yorozu of Shiuh Shia. The Duke himself gave her away to me.”

“It was me he gave away. Lady Yorozu was never to be wed to you.”

Choso could not hide his disgust any longer as he shoved (Y/N) away from him. He walked over to the bedroom door and pulled frantically at a cord which rang a bell. Within minutes, there was a frantic knock on the door which Choso swung open. Nanami stumbled in with a frazzled expression on his face. His eyes scanned over Choso before wandering over to the hunched figure that was the Lady.

He couldn't comprehend what happened but readjusted his composure to better present himself to Choso.

"My Lord, is something the matter?"

"Yes. Summon Captain Tsukumo and Fushiguro to the dungeon along with Yuuji. Also tell him to bring his interrogation tools. We need it for this wretched woman."

Nanami stared at the hunched figure in shock, almost hesitating to complete his task when Choso stomped over to the woman. He roughly lifted her up to show her crying face to Nanami, who almost dropped in shock. He couldn't believe his eyes as he bowed before running out of the room to raise the alarm.

Choso gathered both her wrists in one hand before pressing the tip of his blade at her lower back. (Y/N) could do nothing but let Choso unleash his anger on her. It's like the Duke said, she was going to pay the price. As she let herself be dragged by her husband. She kept her head bowed and it wasn't long until they were climbing the stairs down to a dark and dingy room.

It had a dreary atmosphere as Choso grabbed a set of keys from the wall, he unlocked a cell door and tossed her in before locking the door behind her. (Y/N) hissed slightly as the palms of her hands were grazed. Her dress was beginning to gather dirt as she pulled her knees close to her chest.

Two haggard voices echoed from the stairs before a bulky man and woman stood beside Choso. Both were dressed in a simple shirt and trousers whilst an expression of worry took hold on their faces. The blonde haired woman spoke first with a gruff voice.

"What happened, my Lord?"

Choso pointed his dagger at (Y/N), a bitter disdain marking his tone as both figures turned to the direction of the cell. The both of them were stunned at the fact that their commander had jailed this young woman.

"This woman claims that the Duke had given her away as my wife instead of Lady Yorozu."

Was it possible? To Tsukumo, she didn't look to be the malicious type to spread slander. Fushiguro too seemed stunned that this delicate woman had the audacity to claim that she was Viscount Itadori's wife. Both Captains straightened their posture and turned back to their commander.

"Where is Yuuji?"

At that moment, a pitched voice rang from the stairs, whining carelessly.

"Eh, calm down, I'm coming. A man like me needs a long rest to better function in the day."

A rather short skinny figure with pink hair stumbled into the dungeon, lugging behind a heavy case which Nanami was helping him carry. Yuuji eventually heaved the case and rested it against the cell bars, before spinning to face Choso.

"What seems to be the problem, big Bro?"

Choso gestured at the cell to which Yuuji turned to understand. Instead of sharing the same shocked expression the other people had, Yuuji had a curious soft expression on his face as he crouched by the cell to gander at the quivering form of (Y/N).

"Who is this young woman?"

"My wife … so she claims."

Yuuji raised a curious eyebrow as he opened up his case. His hands running over the labels of the vials and bottles.

"I see. Well, I hope they didn't treat you too roughly. Now let's see if we can get you to spill the truth."

Yuuji hummed to himself before finding a small vial with clear liquid inside. He shook the vial before pushing his palm through the gaps of the bars. (Y/N) blankly stared at the vial before snapping back to the surprisingly kind expression on Yuuji's face.

"Hey, whatever your name is, drink this vial if you want to show you're innocent."

(Y/N) was hesitant to take the vial but Yuuji pushed his hand further.

"It's a truth serum-"

A relieved sigh left her lips as she snatched the vial to drink the entire contents. Yuuji was impressed by her eagerness as he crossed his legs.

"Right, who are you?"

"My name is (Y/N) Inumaki and I'm Lady Yorozu's handmaiden."

"Okay, (Y/N), how did you become Choso's wife?"

"A month ago, Viscount Itadori sent a proposal to Duke Kenjaku about proposing to his daughter. The Duke was outraged. But he couldn't refuse the proposal seeing it would make him look bad in the noble society. So he made me take Lady Yorozu’s place and proceed with the wedding."

Fushiguro, Tsukumo and Nanami shared a nervous glance but Choso remained stoic to delve further into the truth.

"How did you know the Duke reacted like this?"

"I overheard him complaining to Lord Zenin of Chaycor. It was he who then came up with the idea to use me as a scapegoat so that the Duke could save face in the aristocracy."

"Why did you agree?"

"It wasn't by choice. He threatened to kill my brother if I didn't comply. He didn't care what happened if Viscount Itadori found out my true identity. He said that I would have to pay the price, which I am now."

Everyone else's nerves dissipated into concern over the young troubled woman. They were sympathetic to the fact that she had no choice. Even Choso felt sorry for the young woman as he still couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth. He decided to ask the next question.

"Where is Lady Yorozu?"

"She is in Jotron. She is staying there so she could persuade the Emperor to marry her."

“Does she know about this?”

“She does.”

Choso’s expression became more grim and grave at (Y/N)’s answers. Almost as if he didn’t like the truth that was being spoken. (Y/N) was surprised that the truth serum didn't bring out the fact that she was transported into this world. Yuuji clapped his hands and stood up to brush the creases off his clothes.

“Right. Now that the interrogation is over, can we let her out?”

“No, I need you to do one more thing.”

Yuuji dropped his hands and grunted to himself about getting back at his older brother, Choso. Once again crouching by his case and lifting out a pouch. He pulled the strings and poured red powder out onto the palm of his hand. He turned to the cell doors with an apologetic look on his face.

“I’m sorry (Y/N) but I have to do this.”

Before she could ask, he blew the powder right onto her face which had her bring her hands up in defence. The powder was ingested into her nose and sticking to her arms and face. Everyone stood still in anticipation as the red powder clung onto (Y/N)’s skin. (Y/N) slowly dropped her hands to also see what the red powder could do. Minutes passed but nothing seemed to happen.

Choso was confused as he gestured his dagger at (Y/N).

“Why is nothing happening?”

“Probably because she has no magic running through her veins and the truth serum worked just fine. Now! Can we take this woman out of the cell and get her washed up?”

Choso hesitated but Tsukumo stepped forward to justify.

“She’s innocent. She’s not the one to punish. Duke Kenjaku is.”

(Y/N) waited with an unsteady breath as Choso exhaled in surender. Tsukumo was right but Choso didn’t want to admit that he had made a mistake. He took a better look at (Y/N) and felt guilty at the way he treated her but he couldn’t trust her. She could have opened up to him before instead of just when they were about to - Choso shook his head and sheathed his dagger, ordering his subordinates.

“Nanami, get her set up in one of the bedrooms and send a maid to help her wash up. Fushiguro take her to the room. Tsukumo, you help Yuuji take the case to his quarters. I will deal with the rest in the morning.”

With that said, Choso stalked away and left the dungeon. Yuuji grinned and gestured to Tsukumo to lift the heavy case. He spun around to face (Y/N).

“(Y/N) sleep well, and I will meet you for breakfast tomorrow.”

Yuuji then turned away and skipped up the stairs followed by Tsukumo who didn’t seem to be struggling with the case. Fushiguro grabbed the cell keys and unlocked the door, stepping in to hold a hand out to (Y/N), an apologetic smile on his face.

“Apologies my Lady.”

(Y/N) took the offered hand and stood up carefully.

“It’s okay, Sir. I’m the one at fault for deceiving all of you.”

The two of them stepped out of the cell, whilst Nanami stepped forward to sympathise with (Y/N).

“My Lady, you should not apologise. You were simply coerced into conducting the Duke's acts. You were doing your job as a servant."

(Y/N) gave a soft smile to the two of them, glad they were able to forgive and accept her quickly. She hoped that her husband would do the same. That's what he is now. She couldn't get angry at him for the way he had treated her, she could have reacted the same as well. She straightened her posture to follow Fushiguro and Nanami. They were walking through the hallway to get to Lady (Y/N)’s room.

She hugged herself closely as the cold air hit her arms. So far she was following the plot exactly, which was not good because it meant that she and Choso were going to die. She decided to ask one of the two men.

"Sir, what's going to happen now?"

The two of them stopped, staring at each other with unease. Fushiguro turned back to glance at the Lady of the house.

"I'm not sure my Lady. However, I do know that he would not leave you stranded."

"I see. Also why do you address me as 'Lady'? I'm not a noble, I'm just a servant."

Nanami adjusted his sleeves as he addressed (Y/N)'s concern.

"Whilst you may not be a noble by birth, you have become a noble through marriage. It is only right that we address you as Lady."

"Would Viscount Itadori see me as a Lady and his wife?"

Nanami and Fushiguro were unsure of what to say. They knew that Choso would take a long time to get around to (Y/N). However, this betrayal seemed to cut him deeper. Nanami wanted to be realistic but Fushiguro cut in with an optimistic attitude.

"With time he will."

(Y/N) accepted this and both men exhaled with relief. It wasn't long when Nanami finally reached one of the guest rooms, opening the door to a modest sized room. The moonlight was bright enough to make the room clear and visible. Similar arches on the wall with a cream and pale green coloured embellishments. The bed was not a four poster bed but had similar duvets to the other room.

"This will be your room, my Lady. Bear with me a moment as I will fetch a maid for you."

Nanami was about to turn around, when (Y/N) grabbed onto his wrist to stop him going. Fushiguro quirked an amused eyebrow at the fact that (Y/N) had grabbed onto Nanami whereas the said man was in shock at the sudden contact.

"Nanami, please. Don't worry about fetching a maid. I can bathe and dress myself just fine."

(Y/N) let go of his wrist as both men clear their throats to face her. The head housekeeper took a deep breath as he tried to speak.

"But my Lady-"

"Please. I just want to be by myself."

Nanami's tired heart faltered as he exhaled deeply and agreed to her request. Both men excused themselves to let (Y/N) get cleaned up as she opened a door next to the bed to unveil a bathroom. The bath pool was on a raised dais, the taps were on the left as she pushed both of them down to let a mixture of hot and cold water fill the tub. There was a small trolley just before the bath, it had a variety of trays with dried flowers of lavender, honeysuckle and lilies. She lifted the tray of lilies and poured it into the bath, turning off the taps and undressing herself whilst the flowers steeped in the water.

As she sat in the bath, she all but hoped that Choso would allow her to stay. She did not want to create a chain of events that brought hers and Choso’s death early. When she read the story, it ended really poorly with the reader dying to a dream of Choso in her arms. This time she was going to change things where she earnt his love and did whatever she could to prevent their deaths.

[ianthewife]

ok girl. pitch me the silt verses. why should i listen to it. go crazy.

(i trust you because in your other hand you have tlt.)

yippee time to yap about my favorite audio drama, okay okay okay listen so the silt verses are a completed audio-drama (3 seasons, 45 episodes (i myself am on ep. 34 rn)) that starts with two cultists, Sister Carpenter (all-around tired, angry at the world, was born into the church but is losing her faith rn) and Brother Faulkner (a young convert who believes fervently and perhaps thinks himself a prophet) on a road trip— i mean a holy pilgrimage. Cause they are both followers of an illegal river god. And yes this modernish world is chuck full of gods who have a direct influence on the world, and the government basically decides who it is legal to worship or not. The worship in question involves chill and casual human sacrifices and horrific transfigurations (if you like body horror, this is the podcast for u). In fact in the setting people design, develop, commercialize and weaponize gods all the fucking time, so really interesting world-building stuff, seriously i love it here. Not gonna go into the plot progression, but it starts out great and gets better and better with every season, i am on season 3 and just constantly blown away.

The writing all in all is really spectacular, sound design is top notch, voice acting is straight up Insane, like there is quality!! Character interactions are to die for, seriously very dynamic, very entertaining. Btw if you love complicated messy very true sibling dynamics, set up camp right here. Also id say pretty good and fun balance between grim tones of a greek tragedy waiting to happen and insanely funny moments and situations (though im in season 3 and it’s mostly grim somebody send help). And the themes!! The themes! The interconnection between hopelessness and hope, the painful difference between a faith and a religion, horrors of capitalism, tragedy and stupidity of war and sm other good stuff. Character cast grows w the progression of the story, we see different places, different perspectives, so really a lot to dig your teeth into, can recommend!!

Also diversity win! We have an aromantic legend of the cult who is trying so so hard to divorce god, our doomed false prophet of the river is trans, there is a transwoman who is basically jesus if jesus went from marketing job to anarchism, and we have non-binary people from politicians to cultists to literal god-killers—

To a normal person id make a little disclaimer that it might be a bit disorienting a couple of first episodes cause there isnt much exposition from the top but as for a fellow tlt fan i know you have nothing to fear, we went through so much more confusing things during harrow and nona the ninth…

So if you do decide to give it a listen, plsss tell me what you think, tlt is my Favorite Thing Ever and tsv is my Also Favorite Thing Ever

[kotegiris]

[Event Story] 1st Anniversary -Butler's Prayers-

previous chapter ✧ all ✧ next chapter

Chapter 5: Zepal the Butler

Opens

Muu: Heh~ So this is the eastern church.

Muu: Feels a bit different from the central church!

> Yeah

Muu: Ah! Over there are Lato-san and Flure-san!

Flure: Huh? Aruji-sama and Muu too…

Flure: Are you two here to pray?

Muu: Yes! Aruji-sama and I will be joining the ritual!

> Please let us pray with you

Flure: I knew it!

Flure: Thank you, Aruji-sama. I’m very happy to hear that.

Lato: Hm… So Aruji-sama will be joining us.

Lato: I’m glad. Everything is more fun with Aruji-sama.

Muu: Huh? By the way, I don’t see Miyaji.

Muu: We were told that all the basement floor butlers were here…

Flure: Huh? Uhm, Miyaji-sensei is…

Flure: He’s preparing for the ritual somewhere else right now. He should be here soon.

Lato: Oh? But…

Flure: (Shh! You don’t need to mention that something happened with Lucas-san…)

Flure: (If you tell them, you’ll just make Aruji-sama worry…)

Lato: Ah, I see. I understand.

Muu: ? What are you talking about?

Flure: N-Nothing!

Flure: Anyways, Muu, could you help lay out the offerings?

Muu: Yes! So we’re giving offerings at this church too!

Muu: Huh? But these offerings…

Muu: Is this an outfit…?

> You’re giving an outfit as an offering?

Flure: Yeah.

Flure: Actually… This is a gift for a friend who was also a basement floor butler…

Muu: A friend… So you two knew him?

Flure: Yeah. He passed away before you and Aruji-sama came to the mansion…

Flure: But… I’m sure you’ve at least heard his name before, right?

Flure: It’s Zepal-san…

> Now that you mention it… > Who was that again…

Muu: Ah! I remember now.

Muu: I think we heard about him during the “Grim Reaper Incident”... 

Lato: Yeah… So you still remember.

Lato: That was the incident where the angels dug up his grave and stole his corpse…

> From that time…

Muu: But.. Why are you gifting him an outfit?

Flure: That’s because…

Flure: Before me, Zepal-san was the one in charge of outfits.

Muu: Huh!? Really?

Flure: Yeah. Zepal-san’s sewing skills were way better than mine…

Flure: Until then, I taught myself how to sew, but he taught me professional techniques.

Flure: My current skill level is thanks to him.

> I see…

Lato: And he was a pretty strong butler too…

Lato: Flure really admired Zepal-san…

Flure: Y-Yeah…

Flure: To me, he was my number one role model.

Flure: But then… Two years ago, he died fighting angels…

Flure: And now… It’s not just his life the angels took…

Flure: They’ve taken his body too…

Flure: I’ll never forgive them… I’ll definitely get it back…

> Flure…

Lato: Hm… I do wonder what they’re doing with his corpse…

Lato: But… We don’t even know where they’ve taken it.

Lato: I’m sure it’s in their stronghold…

Lato: Maybe it’s somewhere in the Ancient Towers?

Lato: If you’d like, Flure, should the two of us go look for it now?

Muu: WHAT!?

Muu: L-Lato-san… That’s too dangerous…

Flure: Yeah… I agree.

Flure: Honestly, I want to get his body back as soon as possible, but…

Flure: With my current strength, I’ll only get taken out.

Flure: I’m still weak… I have to get stronger.

Flure: I have to hurry up and get stronger… And take back Zepal-san’s body with my own hands…

Muu: Flure-san…

Lato: Hm…

Lato: You’ve changed, Flure.

Lato: Before, you used to just lament over your lack of strength, but…

Lato: Now you’ve accepted it and are working to become stronger.

Flure: T-That’s…

Flure: It’s true that the old me was even weaker.

Flure: Especially when I first became a Devil Butler…

Flure: Honestly, I thought I’d die quickly.

Flure: I thought that Devil’s Palace was a strict and brutal place and…

Flure: I thought that the Devil Butlers were terrifying…

Flure: Diving into a world like that… I thought that someone like me would get taken out immediately.

Flure: But… When I became a Devil Butler…

Flure: Everyone kindly welcomed someone as weak as me…

Flure: They protected me, so I didn’t die.

Flure: As friends, they looked after me.

Flure: I wanted to get stronger for their sake…

Flure: I wanted the strength to protect my friends, but…

Flure: I couldn’t protect my precious friend… I couldn’t protect Zepal-san…

> Flure…

Flure: I was really depressed then…

Flure: I gave up on getting stronger…

Flure: But then… Aruji-sama came to the mansion…

Flure: And once again… You awakened the desire within me to become stronger.

> Me…?

[mthollowell-writes]

Writeblr Introduction: Hello!

About Me:

Hello! My name is MT (she/her) and this is my writeblr!

I write speculative fiction with a bent towards horror and the strange, though I love experimenting with other genres every so often.

My themes and topics tends towards the fantastical and the existential. Monsters, mysteries, and histories are my bread and butter with dashes of "humor." The quotations are an urge to take that assertion with a grain of salt.

Other things that often crop up in relation to writing is my love of music, science, and nature (especially plants, birds, and mycology)

General Housekeeping

Below the cut you will find information about all my WIPs, past and present. This will be updated periodically!

But first, some quick bullets

To start off, I should state all my writing (esp longer pieces) will be posted on my website: mthollowell.com . Alongside my fiction, you'll also find book reviews and other writing related musings.

All my writing updates will be under #mt writes. This includes snippets, blurbs, tag games, writing challenges, and the like

I read a lot, all over, so all book things can be found under the #mt reads tag

This is my writing sideblog. I follow back with @missaddledmiss

And if you like my stories and are able, you can drop a few pennies into my Kofi account!

Long Term Projects

Festival of Shadows/Supernatural Mystery, Horror, Thriller During the Hollow Grove's infamous Founder Festival, reporter Mariela Hudson seeks to uncover a five year mystery that involves a cult, a mysterious ritual that ended in a deadly fire, and a missing woman whose relationship with both is still shrouded in shadows. All the while, a monster waits. WIP Introduction /// Excepts under #festivalwip

Grim Lore WIP/ Supernatural Mystery, Horror Sebastian Calderon accepts a job in a new town called Hollow Grove that's setting up roots in the wilderness on the promise of land and some cash in his pocket. But not everything is as it seems and the price he pays for his labor may be too steep.

Hollow Grove Stories/Speculative Fiction, Horror, "Humor" A collection of shorts about the various characters in Hollow Grove often set during its contemporary timeline (circa 2016-2017). Mischief and terror abound. Stories under #hollow grove stories

Divided Loyalties WIP/ Fantasy, Adventure, Romance Kalon is a prince of a fallen empire seeking vengence against its conquerer, Satomi Satinos, the bandit king. In order to do that, he infiltrates his kingdom in hope of slaying the source of his power, the great dragon Raylene. But in his quest, he unwittingly falls in love with the bandit king's daughter, Uraya, and uncovers a conspiracy that threatens to break the whole of their world.

Story 1 WIP/ Fantasy, Action Adventure, Coming of Age Haru is a young prisoner of a never-ending war that spans multiple worlds. He makes his living at the forge, but his daily life is interrupted when a guard is found dead and he's accused of the murder. As he awaits his execution, he's offered a chance of escape by a man who brings him to another world. He tries to keep a low profile and his new powers in check, so he doesn't attract the attention of the guards tracking them. When he runs into a group of kids in this strange new world, colloquially known as Earth, he opens their mind to all the worlds hidden around them. (Called Story 1 since its the first comprehensive story I've ever come up with yet I cannot think of a better title)

Shorter Projects (Last Updated November 2024):

31 Days of Horror 2024: A collection of stories I made for a 2024 October horror challenge

Escape from Gallow Lane: A Hollow Grove Story Local Hollow Grove reporters Mariela and Emery find themselves on the wrong side of the law, and things somehow get worse from there.

Hanging on the Telephone: A Hollow Grove After a seance in the basement of the Edelhaus Church goes awry and cuts off the WIFI across the county, Mariela Hudson tries her luck with the old tech of yesteryear with her dad’s old dial-up computer.

[achaotichuman]

Five & Five: Horror and History for Autumn

One thing I wish to accomplish this year is to read a whole lot more than I have been, so what better way to do that than with a fun challenge? This year, for every season, I'm going to do a "Five & Five" aka ten books from two different genres

For my favourite season (autumn) we are doing my favourite genres: Horror and Historical Fiction.

Below the cut are the books I'll be reading and the synopsis for each one. After every read, I'll post a review and add the link to this list!

Also feel free to join in on this little challenge! I know by the time I'm starting this, it's already well into autumn (here in Australia at least) but do let me know if you decide to check any of these titles out and what you think of them, as well as your favourite books in these genres!

5 Horror Reads

House of Hunger by Alexis Hendersen

Review: (To Be Posted)

Marion Shaw has been raised in the slums, where want and deprivation is all she knows. Despite longing to leave the city and its miseries, she has no real hope of escape until the day she spots a peculiar listing in the newspaper, seeking a bloodmaid.

Though she knows little about the far north--where wealthy nobles live in luxury and drink the blood of those in their service--Marion applies to the position. In a matter of days, she finds herself the newest bloodmaid at the notorious House of Hunger. There, Marion is swept into a world of dark debauchery--and at the center of it all is her.

Countess Lisavet, who presides over this hedonistic court, is loved and feared in equal measure. She takes a special interest in Marion. Lisavet is magnetic, and Marion is eager to please her new mistress. But when her fellow bloodmaids begin to go missing in the night, Marion is thrust into a vicious game of cat and mouse. She'll need to learn the rules of her new home--and fast--or its halls will soon become her grave.

Year of the Witching by Alexis Hendersen

Review: (To Be Posted)

In the lands of Bethel, where the Prophet’s word is law, Immanuelle Moore’s very existence is blasphemy. Her mother’s union with an outsider of a different race cast her once-proud family into disgrace, so Immanuelle does her best to worship the Father, follow Holy Protocol, and lead a life of submission, devotion, and absolute conformity, like all the other women in the settlement.

But a mishap lures her into the forbidden Darkwood surrounding Bethel, where the first prophet once chased and killed four powerful witches. Their spirits are still lurking there, and they bestow a gift on Immanuelle: the journal of her dead mother, who Immanuelle is shocked to learn once sought sanctuary in the wood.

Fascinated by the secrets in the diary, Immanuelle finds herself struggling to understand how her mother could have consorted with the witches. But when she begins to learn grim truths about the Church and its history, she realizes the true threat to Bethel is its own darkness. And she starts to understand that if Bethel is to change, it must begin with her.

Pornography for the End of the World by Brenden Vidito

Review: (To Be Posted)

From Brendan Vidito, the Wonderland-Award-winning author of Nightmares in Ecstasy, comes nine tales of apocalyptic body horror.

A young man is initiated into a cult that worships sickness and disease.

Survivors of a nuclear holocaust make a pilgrimage to the last movie theater in existence.

Premonitions of disaster haunt a loving couple doomed to watch each other die.

Each story pulsates with Vidito's characteristic dark humor, atmospheric tension, and visceral prose. This is pornography for the devotee of horror, the morbidly curious—pornography for the end of the world.

All the Dead Lie Down by Kyrie McCauley

Review: (To Be Posted)

The Sleeping House was very much awake . . .

Days after a tragedy leaves Marin Blythe alone in the world, she receives a surprising invitation from Alice Lovelace—an acclaimed horror writer and childhood friend of Marin’s mother. Alice offers her a nanny position at Lovelace House, the family’s coastal Maine estate.

Marin accepts and soon finds herself minding Alice’s peculiar girls. Thea buries her dolls one by one, hosting a series of funerals, while Wren does everything in her power to drive Marin away. Then Alice’s eldest daughter returns home unexpectedly. Evie Hallowell is every bit as strange as her younger sisters, and yet Marin is quickly drawn in by Evie’s compelling behavior and ethereal grace.

But as Marin settles in, she can’t escape the anxiety that follows her like a shadow. Dead birds appear in Marin’s room. The children’s pranks escalate. Something dangerous lurks in the woods, leaving mutilated animals in its wake. All is not well at Lovelace House, and Marin must unravel its secrets before they consume her.

Paradise Rot by Jenny Hval, Marjam Idriss

Review: (To Be Posted)

Jo is in a strange new country for university, and having a more peculiar time than most. A house with no walls, a roommate with no boundaries, and a home that seems ever more alive. Jo’s sensitivity, and all her senses, become increasingly heightened and fraught, as the lines between bodies and plants, and dreaming and wakefulness, blur and mesh.

This debut novel from critically acclaimed artist and musician Jenny Hval, presents a heady and hyper-sensual portrayal of sexual awakening and queer desire. A complex, poetic and strange novel about bodies, sexuality and the female gender.

5 Historical Fiction Reads

The Husband Poisoner by Tanya Bretherton

Review: (To Be Posted)

After World War II, Sydney experienced a crime wave that was chillingly calculated. Discontent mixed with despair, greed with callous disregard. Women who had lost their wartime freedoms headed back into the kitchen with sinister intent and the household poison thallium, normally used to kill rats, was repurposed to kill husbands and other inconvenient family members.

Yvonne Fletcher disposed of two husbands. Caroline Grills cheerfully poisoned her stepmother, a family friend, her brother and his wife. Unlike arsenic or cyanide, thallium is colourless, odourless and tasteless; victims were misdiagnosed as insane malingerers or ill due to other reasons. And once one death was attributed to natural causes, it was all too easy for an aggrieved woman to kill again.

This is the story of a series of murders that struck at the very heart of domestic life. It's the tale of women who looked for deadly solutions to what they saw as impossible situations. The Husband Poisoner documents the reasons behind the choices these women made - and their terrible outcomes.

The Defiance of Frances Dickinson by Wendy Parkins

Review: (To Be Posted)

1838, England: When eighteen-year-old heiress Frances Dickinson impulsively marries Lieutenant John Geils, she soon discovers there is much about her husband she did not know. A cruel and violent man, John keeps Frances in isolation on his family's estate in Scotland, while spending her fortune and preying upon their maids.

Frances yearns to break free from her marriage but the law is not on her side. Only when John's abuse escalates can she set in motion a daring plan to secure her freedom.

A story of gaslighting, control and one woman's fight, The Defiance of Frances Dickinson is the true story behind one of the most sensational divorce trials of the nineteenth century.

Dancing Through Fire by Kathryn Lasky

Review: (To Be Posted)

Welcome to 19th century Paris, and the world of Degas's dancers. 13-year-old Sylvie is one of the pupils at the Paris Opera Ballet, where tutus must always be starched and pointe shoes fresh. Sylvie dreams of being a prima ballerina, but her height is a she is too little. When the Franco-Prussian war begins in 1870, Paris is soon under siege and Sylvie is thrown into turmoil and tragedy. Against the fiery backdrop of war, the beauty of the ballet sustains and strengthens Sylvie. Before long, her talent and drive allows her to achieve her goal--and she graces the stage as a star.

The Austen Girls by Lucy Worsley

Review: (To Be Posted)

It is 1809 and Fanny and Anna have just been launched on to the ruthless Regency marriage market by Fanny's mother (think Mrs Bennet). But luckily their mysteriously wealthy Aunt Jane is there to guide them and help them make better choices - i.e. don't get married at all!

Jane plays detective to help them rescue a falsely accused friend from being transported to Australia, while Anna impetuously makes and breaks an engagement. Fanny is forced to leave the marriage market when her mother dies and she has to look after ten siblings. She learns the secret of Jane's wealth and self-possession (she is, of course, a writer) and decides to follow in her footsteps.

Juliet by Anne Fortier

Review: (To Be Posted)

Twenty-five-year-old Julie Jacobs is heartbroken over the death of her beloved aunt Rose. But the shock goes even deeper when she learns that the woman who has been like a mother to her has left her entire estate to Julie’s twin sister. The only thing Julie receives is a key—one carried by her mother on the day she herself died—to a safety-deposit box in Siena, Italy.

This key sends Julie on a journey that will change her life forever—a journey into the troubled past of her ancestor Giulietta Tolomei. In 1340, still reeling from the slaughter of her parents, Giulietta was smuggled into Siena, where she met a young man named Romeo. Their ill-fated love turned medieval Siena upside-down and went on to inspire generations of poets and artists, the story reaching its pinnacle in Shakespeare’s famous tragedy.

But six centuries have a way of catching up to the present, and Julie gradually begins to discover that here, in this ancient city, the past and present are hard to tell apart. The deeper she delves into the history of Romeo and Giulietta, and the closer she gets to the treasure they allegedly left behind, the greater the danger surrounding her—superstitions, ancient hostilities, and personal vendettas. As Julie crosses paths with the descendants of the families involved in the unforgettable blood feud, she begins to fear that the notorious curse—“A plague on both your houses!”—is still at work, and that she is destined to be its next target. Only someone like Romeo, it seems, could save her from this dreaded fate, but his story ended long ago. Or did it?

From Anne Fortier comes a sweeping, beautifully written novel of intrigue and identity, of love and legacy, as a young woman discovers that her own fate is irrevocably tied—for better or worse—to literature’s greatest star-crossed lovers.

[chibishortdeath]

I actually really like the messed up skeleton Dracula design, it conveys that he’s not at full power yet pretty well :3. More explanations and two unfinished doodles under a cut—

Close up on Drac’s upper half cause the drawing was way too big for one photo of it. Something that I noticed while staring at his sprite for a while is that he’s probably not wearing a hood, but chainmail armor with a helmet on top :O!

Entire page view to get all the Dracula in frame lol. His armor isn’t falling off btw, everything is rising into place from the altar. Hopefully he’s not too gorey for general tags uhhh yeah d(TwT ).

This is him when he’s done coming together. He’s still not fully powerful or physically all there yet, but it’s just enough to be able to troll Simon at the end 💀💀💀. Anyway yeah he’s totally me when my arch nemesis doesn’t find my teeth and accidentally summons me before I’m ready lol.

Simon is literally so fun to just put in poses. He is almost always my model for drawing poses because his big thighs kinda force you to make his pose even more exaggerated to get the same amount of open space and ratio of things— yeah idk it’s fun. He’s also allowed to have some sass sometimes I think. Fun fact! I didn’t use a reference for these :3. I’m so proud! Angles like this are usually hard!!! Oh and rare family heirloom sword moment. I’m taking this as a nod to the recent Haunted Castle remake now, which was so out of no where like (*o* ). I’ll take it!!! Simon game!!! A win!!! Hopefully the next collection they put out has Adventure Rebirth in it X3.

Simon but he is staring at you with the saddest pouty wet cat eyes. Tbh I think this general kinda neutral/resting sad expression is what I draw him with the most.

Which is why I also tried drawing him with other expressions!!!!!! In this one he is surprised and awkwardly responding to being told something so negative it’s almost comedic 💀💀💀. I was imagining the one town in Simon’s Quest with some bangers like “after Castlevania I told you never to return” and “you’ve upset the people now get out of town” X,,,,,D. He’s a little taken aback and was gonna try to defend himself, but he just leaves anxiously.

Please imagine that in this one he is saying that one meme that goes “it is hot as hell in this fucking ass hot ass room I’m in… IS THAT THE GRIM REAPER⁉️⁉️⁉️”.

Yay! Putting him on furniture for background practice!!! He is sitting on a church pew, having a couple micro sleeps cause he’s sleep deprived. He may fall off cause that armor is a little too heavy when sitting down I’d imagine.

These last two are for the images below. First one is just him kinda tweakin idk, he’s been awake too long and seen too much, somebody direct him to the nearest church, bro needs rest 💀. His hand shaking reminds me tho, a couple days ago I played the jojo fighting game so hard I had to put ice on my hand 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀. It SUUUCKED like take it from me don’t play as Polnareff in story mode if you’ve already been playing for a long time ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

This one is just general anatomy practice, just doodling his proportions to keep the skill of being able to draw them d(^^ ). I ended up really liking how I drew his hair in this one though, it’s cute :3.

[goblingaius]

i need platonic fanfics of these scrumptious scoundrels.

give me raphaniel and colin over the years reluctantly starting to care for each other where colin watched over this elderly radish who ages further than time itself and descends into madness. give me raphaniel taking in just some cheese guy who he was once obsessed with and is now relying on as his one truth in his own web of lies. give me both of them following each other around where colin becomes his sword and raphaniel becoming his shield as bulbian church authority but also ensuring that it falls in line with their motives/morals. give me colin caring for the shadow of a man who may have been elderly but was as cunning as a fox and eloquence that could convince anyone he was harmless. give me raphaniel in his sobering moments bestows upon colin life lessons that he had gathered over his lifetime, moments where colin could see the radish who was once a bishop for a good reason. give me raphaniel and colin growing dependent on the other as the war rages on.

give me amangeaux escaping with her baby and a newfound determination born from the grim realisation of what she helped unleash. give me amangeaux deciding to isolate herself while studying for the knowledge that she needed back then and needed it now more than ever and also raising a child as a single mother. give me amangeaux coming to the realisation of what she needed to give up, of what she needs to happen for this child of hers to grow up safely. give me amangeaux for the moving on her own for the first time instead of depending on the bishop and karna for advice/action as she used to. give me amangeaux raising her child on stories of the house of uvano, of gustavo uvano himself, and then baring herself to gustavo with her secrets and her worth and all that she can give, and gustavo uvano sees her none of the woman who once clung to her title as queen and sees a woman is determined to set things right in the world her child will grow up in.

give me karna and deli, who have been abandoned by the people they were close with, attach to each other, filling up the spaces that they once had for certain people. give me karna encouraging deli's traits, even the toxic ones, and making herself useful to him with the underlying fear that he could leave her and ruin her work just like amangeaux did. give me trying to become the leader that karna needs and fighting on the battlefields (both physical and political) with the underlying fear that she could leave him if he wasnt good enough just like colin did. give me karna and deli bonding over their views on killing innocents as they did for queen pamela rocks. give me karna and deli trusting each other but thinking that theyre still at baseline trust because all they have been doing for each other are transactions and thats where their trust ends. give me karna and deli acknowledging their mutual attraction but never taking the step because it will be a weakness for them and they dont trust the other to not take advantage it and they arent ready for that level of trust.

give me fanfics of their years fleshed out in writing, because i sure dont have the skills to do that.

[celiaelise]

So I am watching "Doctor Elise", (yes, mostly bc she has my name :p) an anime with a convoluted reincarnation/time travel premise which results in the main character as an 18th(???) century noblewoman in psuedo-Europe, with all the knowledge of a well-renowned 21st century Japanese surgeon. When she gets back to her "original" life, (Elise, from "Britia") she is determined to right all the wrongs she committed by being a spoiled rich teenager the first time around, AND to help as many people as possible by becoming a doctor in this lifetime, too.

This is an issue because the emperor, who appears to be a close family friend, REALLY wants her to marry his son instead of pursuing medicine. Also, she has to scramble for explanations for why she has medical knowledge and understanding that should be impossible for her.

And this is one of those times where you can really feel that this Western-adjacent setting is being written by people from another culture. (This also happened when I was watching "Emma: a Victorian Romance", and someone reassured a small child, "don't worry, the Grim Reaper isn't coming to get you; he isn't real! 😊" Like, death? Death isn't real and isn't coming for this child? He's an immortal child?? Anyway...) Because, to me, a westerner, there is such an obvious and correct answer!!!

Say it was God. These guys are absolutely neck-deep in Christianity, say it was God. Say God spoke to you directly, told you it is His will for you to heal people, and is feeding you answers to unsolvable medical riddles.

Sure, many people may not believe you at first, but since your knowledge and actions are backed up by Actual Science, eventually the results will speak for themselves. They cannot argue with you when you are genuinely saving lives in unprecedented ways AND the Church is on your side. (Which it would have to be, eventually, and given that she's already a noblewoman, they probably wouldn't even mind that much.)

This is also a very good way to explain your sudden personality change. Oh, I used to be vapid, belligerent, and somewhat evil, but now I'm considerate, caring, and intelligent? Simple, when God spoke to me, he showed me the error of my ways, and I've decided to listen to Him and change my behavior.

This could even get you out of a marriage, if you can get them to let you join a covent! But this anime is partly a romance, so that wouldn't really make sense for the story. 🙄

Anyway, it's a decent show, though I'm not a huge fan of the art style. But every episode I can't stop wishing she would use heavenly visions as a cover for her weirdness 🤷🏻‍♀️ (I actually don't think they've mentioned the Church at all, so maybe their universe doesn't even have Christianity?)

[basedkikuenjoyer]

Crown Jewel

We're skipping the discourse around this one. Ginny is Bonney's mother, Kuma's her daddy, and there's the potential of a half-Tenryubito bloodline which would explain a fair amount of leeway we've seen. Bonney is also only 12 years old. Love how it all fits well with her intro, do hate how grim Ginny's story ended up. But she kept that spark until the end, like the wrinkle of not wanting to be seen and trying to hide the pain. Out of respect for that we're not dwelling on the horrific circumstances of Bonney's conception.

I gotta say though, I was already wondering before that if film buff Oda wasn't striking again because Kuma's story of a humble guy weaving around big events was reminding me big time of Forrest Gump. If Wano was the Kabuki revue you'd pick and choose parts you care about...is Egghead a night at the movies? Sci-fi B movie vibes obviously. Then maybe these segments away are almost like, say going to the bathroom and catching a snippet of another. Hence missing parts of it. I'm rambling...

Absolutely adore the origin of the "jewelry" part of Jewelry Bonney. Both this cute scene and how the Sapphire Scale disease hearkens back to Thriller Bark. The core stakes of losing your shadow. Same with the origin of "If you could travel, where would you go?" In hindsight...I bet Perona reminded him of Bonney. It's also pertinent to point out they were at Sabaody around the same time. There's a lot to say about her after this chapter, starting with...

Bonney, welcome to the top tier of the blorbo rankings. How can I hate a chapter that gives me a feisty five-year-old flagrantly flipping the forbidden finger? Young Bonney you are so precious. Er...younger Bonney. So we don't just have the Sapphire Scales connection either. This chapter hits that running Egghead theme of callbacks so hard. I love this bit about calling her a vampire and brandishing a cross, especially with her flatly pointing out she lives in a church, but a lot of things honestly. Talking about wanting to see a Sky Island was nice.

We're gonna peel this one off for tomorrow, but there is one thing I do wanna note. Actually being 12 with a fruit like that is a different angle, but it has that fundamental thematic harmony with a quartermaster. Just like an elegant but lowkey scary big sister with an actress vibe, a bossy little sister with the infinite possibility of distorted futures suits bringing order and wearing many hats. Kiku's deal was being shown as legitimately good but not great at others'skills. The ultimate redundancy. Bonney is the blank slate. Strap in friendos, I have a lot to say on the matter over the next few days.

This is what I was thinking last week, the part that really gets there. The ability to just pop up at island after island is hellacious for a Revolutionary. Makes it easy to pull something like Sabo's simultaneous uprisings which is smart. Paralyzes a World Government that can step in it prioritizing the wrong ones. But yeah, Kuma goes on a tear after Ginny is taken. We get a great run of back-and-forth shots though between the hero and the doting father. Love that. He goes into a pit of despair, but the last remnant of Ginny becomes a reason to live again.

My guess is ultimately we'll see something like he agreed to the cyborg program at least partially because he could take on Bonney's disease himself. That would make sense for something. Kinda dig the theory Im suffers from Sapphire Scale. I know they said Bonney had a limited time but that may be because she'd already started to turn. Im if anyone has the resources to ensure you'd never encounter natural light and it'd be incredibly thematic. I will also laugh my ass off if we end up making the World Government functionally run by the Sohma Family from Fruits Basket. Sickly lil shut-in who was handed control for stupid reasons.

Hearken well, dear reader and don't look away. For what comes next is the tragedy of Sorbet. From priest to tyrant, from man to machine. A tragic tale who's end has already been seen.

Talk about callbacks, yeah this familiar nightmare reminds me a lot of Drum and Dressrosa. It is cool how Wano fits into that, a more benign version of reinstalling the ancient dynasty. This here is the perfect setting to shift us into the parts we already know a bit about. It'll be interesting to see what happens. Somewhere this kind pastor and loving father became known as a tyrant and he was referred to as King of Sorbet. We've only got a short window to cram in a lot of big things for Kuma. That said, could see us out of this by or in 1100. So a break and a big one-two punch?

[july-19th-club]

the one about the blue blanket that doesn't go away is very definitely ringing a bell in the back of my mind, but unfortunately i can't remember where i might have seen it. the other two stories don't seem familiar to me though, so maybe i saw that story in a different compilation? i grew up in the uk, in the 2000s, but that probably isn't very helpful. (have you tried asking on scifi stackexchange? i know they do story identification there, idk if they'd be helpful in this particular situation though)

no it makes sense that it might have been a UK publication bc as far as i recall the black dog story was a variation on the Church Grim, which is not really a thing in US folklore as far as i know, but of course for every single person of that general generation any older Grim stories got instantaneously swept out of the way by them damn wizard books lol . so we are probably thinking abt the same book