#just got the text WAHOOOOOOO

[ghost-proofbaby]

halsey is dropping a new punksey song oh we are SO BACK baby

[hana-the-ghostieee]

hweeeehhhhhhhhhhh. i finally made a thing. i drew for once. wahooooooo.

this thing. it took like 3 weeks okay??? 3 frikkin weeks TwT

i will say. tw for blood. it isn't graphic in the sense like blood everywhere all red whatever, it's only a small corner but still mhmm

i made this thing

(under the cut obviously i'm not insensitive)

tumblr why must you compress it

i drew it myself TTTwTTT (obviously like i'm not the type of person to repost either -w- this is my table and those are my fineliners and i created that thing you're looking at and whatever wahoo bahooey wonderhoy yeah)

it looks better irl if you were wondering

so!!! i have redesigned the prsk cover of gehenna uhm jacket cover art thingy??? cuz i wasn't happy with how the cover was just. a cropped version of the art for the mv. i love the original mv's art but like come on. you did this for charles. you did this for icedrop. you did this for buriki no dansu and umiyuri kaiteitan and mairieux and twilight melody. i know they've released the prsk version's mv after the cover got released in-game and that the original mv is an "older style-d" art only mv but come on at least add the extra text/effects. and they can't say they couldn't change it they've done that with machinegun poem doll

uhh-huhh that's all i'm tired -w-

[writinggremlin]

Teehee. Another week, another chapter of Rare Bookseller! Yippeee!!!

FITZ FITZ FITZ FOTZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FUTZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FUTZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FITZ FIZT

My brain has officially rotted and its all his fault /j. He found the microwave, got inside and started spinning, and now he refuses to leave. And I'm just like, "Sir! Please! I just want to cook my chicken nuggets!! Please!!"

Anygay-- the story.

He's calling it home!! Ooo!!! The little hints of him accepting his fate!!

NOOOOO FITZZZZ!!!! PATHETIC WET CAT FITZ NOOOOOO!!!!! D:!!! Something tells me that this negative self talk isn't all Edgar's doing, though.

AWWWW POOR FITZ IS SO FUCKED UP RN!! POOR GUY IS ACTING LIKE OLIVER AND IDK HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THIS TBH-- WHUMP BRAIN IS HAPPY, NORMIE BRAIN IS FREAKED OUT BY HOW OUT OF CHARACTER HE IS RN-- THIS IS CONFLICTING

AWWW NOOO TRAUMAAAA POOR GUY NEEDS MORE HUGS

Oop-- I'm seriously so conflicted about how to feel about all of this-- whump brain is feral-- normie brain is cowering in the corner with a cross and screaming-- I'm backed against the wall with a frying pan and also screaming, in confusion-- it's chaos over here.

But seriously fuckin-- he's on such a slippery slope rn he is so dangerously close to the edge this is lowkey terrifying-- just-- grab him by the shoulders-- shake him-- wake him up snap him out of it do SOMETHING!!! AGHHHHHHH

This is all written beautifully btw I love it so much

"I want you to, sir. And you want it too. I can tell. Why deny yourself? Drink." Ok, he's still a little there. "Why deny yourself?" Like-- c'mon that's just him. I love seeing how his personality is mixed into this spell though. How his character adds it's own personal flavor to this hypnotized soup. How you can see it occasionally poke through and shine amongst the rest of the scripted fodder.

OOP-- DELICIOUS SOUP-- SOUP JUMPSCARE-- SUDDENLY SOUP--

O h

How do people make the tiny text for tumblr hold on--

Ew I need to be on my computer. *begrudgingly sighs* fineeeeee

WAIT NO I FOUND IT FOR MOBILE!!!!! WAHOOOOOOO!!!!!! Anygay--

o h

"Fitz scoffed automatically. "You can't be --"" There he is. There's the sass we know and love.

""Why, sir?" came the question from his lips before he could stop it. It was the question he was always asking himself. How could he make people like him? More charming, more handsome, more funny, more useful -- his guards against a world that would otherwise discard him without a second thought." WAAAAAAHHHHHHHH FITZ NOOOOOO!!! LEX YOU BETTER FUCKING HUG HIM ISTG

"Just as he feared Lex might." WAAAAAAAAAAAA

YEAHHHH HUG AND COMFORT LETS GOOOOOOO

Oh Fitz. Oh my poor guy. He's so fucked. He's never stood a chance. He's never been an equal, and no amount of self confidence or flirting can change that fact. I love it.

"disgustingly perfect" stealing that. Using that someday. Omfg that reminds me-- I wanted to fuck around and see if I could mimic character's writing styles. I can see Fitz's signature being quick but flourished and fancy. But what about dip pen calligraphy? 👀

:0000!!!!!! FITZ!!! BACK ON STAGE!!!! YESSSSSSS!!!! WOOOO!!!! YIPPEEEE!!!!!

Y'know-- I was just thinking the other day about what the people who worked with him thought about what happened.

"Enthralled with a lover" hah! The subtle truth too lol

"Alas, slender Aphrodite filled me with unbearable longing," said Fitz, draping himself across a chair. "I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't walk to the theater --" good to see him back to his usual, dramatic self.

"All right, all right, shut up, I don't really want to hear it." PFFFF glad to see the reaction is back to normal too

Yep, just bother the manager until you manage to worm your way back in. Classic Fitz lmao.

If this storyline continues, then I can't wait to see Fitz preform, especially since he wouldn't have his hypnotic powers to utilize yet.

"You won't regret this.", "I think I already am" PFF glad to see this ending on a comedic note. He deserves the happiness. As a lil treat.

Good soup as always. Loved it, can't wait for next week!

The Rare Bookseller Part 61: Fitz's Insecurity

Previous > Masterlist

tw: mind control, conditioning, mention of branding

September 1905

Fitz felt numb from stress and exhaustion as Lex helped him into the manor. He breathed a sigh of relief as the familiar and comfortable smell of old books rose to greet him. He was home.

Lord Edgar's blood had soaked through the front of his dress and he stunk of rats and cigar smoke. The only thing he wanted more than washing up was to help his master -- the spell he'd been placed under was still fogging his brain, whispering to him that there was nothing more important than serving vampires.

And Lex needed the service. His face was bloody and swollen in places from where Jameson had beaten him, and there were dark bruises blossoming on the parts of his skin that were visible. He'd suffered those injuries for Fitz's sake, all because he'd been an idiot who couldn't take care of himself at the ball.

A weak human who always made poor decisions. Who needed the guidance of a strong hand.

He shook his head, trying and failing to dislodge Lord Edgar's words. It didn't help that he could feel desire radiating from Lex. He could use Fitz's blood to heal, and Fitz was eager to provide it.

"Ugh, glad we're finally home," said Lex, hanging up his coat. "Let me help you clean up and check you for injuries."

"I think I should be the one helping you wash up, sir," said Fitz, aware that he had stopped calling his master 'sir' weeks ago, but finding it slip out of his mouth anyway. "You're hurt."

"I'm fine," he insisted. "Or I will be. I can easily recover from these wounds. I'm attending to you first, and that's final."

In this state, Fitz couldn't very well argue with a direct command from his master. He nodded, allowing Lex to carry him up the stairs.

"I need to remove the remains of Edgar's enthrallment from you as well. It's bad enough that he was able to lay hands on you. I won't have him influencing your mind as well." He looked down at Fitz. "I know that you shouldn't be this quiet right now. It's not like you."

"I suppose it isn't, sir."

Lex sat Fitz down in a chair when they arrived at his spacious bathroom, remembering to light the lamps so that Fitz could see. For his part, Fitz couldn't help but slump in the chair, almost too tired to hold himself up.

Sweet-smelling steam grew thick as Lex filled the washbasin with hot water and a generous amount of lavender soap. Fitz's extravagant dress was pulled over his head and tossed in a heap on the floor. As Lex undid the clasp of the ruby necklace he was wearing, Fitz looked down at the bare skin above his corset, that spot below his shoulder blade where twin brands lay.

The topmost one was a circle containing a single note surrounded by repeat signs. The bottom was a bass clef.

He may have been rescued from Lord Edgar, but the brands served as a daily reminder that the true threat to his freedom still remained. Lex's sire would someday coming to steal away everything he was, down to the smallest movements of his face and fingers, and Fitz would be utterly helpless to resist. His only chance to escape this hellish fate was Lex's plan to kill his sire.

He truly was completely at Lex's mercy, helpless like he hadn't felt since he was a small child trapped in his father's house.

Lex undid Fitz's corset, helping to strip him of his elaborate undergarments, and his touch was so gentle. He was always so gentle, and if Fitz had to be at someone's mercy, he preferred Lex above all others. Lex, who despite his faults, always seemed to want Fitz.

As Lex knelt before him, wiping the sweat and stench from Fitz with a warm cloth, Fitz's mind drifted back to that place of obedience that still lingered in his head. Serving Lord Edgar, laying his head in his lap, had felt so satisfying despite being so wrong.

It wouldn't feel wrong with Lex. He could picture himself, docile and subservient, with his master caressing his head as he knelt by his side. Would Lex prefer him that way? Did he only object to Lord Edgar's influence, to Fitz's subservience, because he himself hadn't put it there?

If Fitz was helpless here regardless, wouldn't it all be simpler?

Lex took his hands, turning them over tenderly, inspecting the places where the ropes had worn angry red marks into Fitz's wrists. His aura strengthened, further fogging Fitz's mind, and all he could think of was his master's clear need.

"You should drink, sir," he said, tilting his neck enticingly.

Lex seemed almost startled by this, as though he didn't realize how obvious his need was. "No, not tonight. You're already weak and tired from your experience. You don't need me to compound that."

"I want you to, sir. And you want it too. I can tell. Why deny yourself? Drink."

"As I said, not tonight."

"Why not, sir?" This was the one thing that Fitz could always provide for his master, and he didn't understand why he was being rejected now. "If I want to serve you, and you want me to serve, then what is the --"

Lex leaned forward and hummed a note in his ear, a clear, perfect note that captured all of Fitz's attention. He could hardly remember what he was talking about a minute ago, but it wasn't important. The only thing that was important was listening to the song and sinking into Lex's spell. He slumped forward, caught and lowered onto Lex's shoulder, maneuvered into a position where he could listen so easily.

"Do you trust me, Fitz?"

Normally, that would be answered with a laugh and an easy "of course!" But here with his mind in Lex's grasp, it became harder to give the simple answer that would earn him favor.

"I want to trust you," he said, and that was truthful enough to slip past.

"If I asked you to serve me in the way Edgar wished, would you?" he whispered in Fitz's ear. "Would you kneel by my side, provide me what I need? Would you throw away all thought and free will and obey my every whim? Would you give that to me?"

The fear running through Fitz's veins almost broke through his entranced calm, but the intense feeling of need was even stronger. "I would, sir," he admitted helplessly, "if you asked me to. And I don't want you to ask me to, because I would do it."

"So, then, you agree I could do this. But I don't. Do you know why?"

He should know. He should know how to read Lex like a book. But… "No, sir."

"Because I prefer you as you are."

Fitz scoffed automatically. "You can't be --"

"I want you to trust me, at least in this matter," said Lex, his voice quite serious. "If I wanted a docile servant without a thought in his head, I could have bought one for cheaper than you, or I could have molded you into what I desire. But I didn't, and I won't, because you are what I want."

"Why, sir?" came the question from his lips before he could stop it. It was the question he was always asking himself. How could he make people like him? More charming, more handsome, more funny, more useful -- his guards against a world that would otherwise discard him without a second thought.

Just as he feared Lex might.

"Why?" Lex repeated as though he didn't understand.

"That's what I asked, sir," said Fitz, not liking how needy he sounded.

"You make me happy," said Lex, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Isn't that enough reason?"

A pang of disappointment stung his heart. "With my blood, then, sir?" he said.

"No, not your blood. You." Lex pulled him in closer and hummed in his ear. "If nothing else, I want you to believe this one thing. I want you here with me, brightening my manor with your sunshine."

"…Oh," was all he could say in the tide of conflicting feelings. "Sir," he added.

"Now I want you to sink deeper into my spell. Deeper and dreamier, Fitz, just like that. And all of Edgar's thoughts and preferences are going to wash out of your head as though they were never there. No more desire to kneel or call me 'sir' as you used to. Nothing in your head but your own thoughts and my song."

"Nothing…"

"Nothing else but that. You can let your mind wander, feel so calm and peaceful as all of Edgar's influence is wiped away."

Fitz sank into Lex's arms, finally feeling himself relax after everything that had happened.

"I do love to see you in a trance like this, Fitz," Lex whispered into his ear. "I love to have you under my spell. It's my nature as a vampire. But it's you that I want under my spell, not a mindless puppet version of you. It's not nearly as fun to take your defiance if you don't have any."

"Lex --" said Fitz, filled with a mix of fear and desire.

"I love to see you when you're happy and charming and full of energy, knowing that I'm the only one who gets to pull you down into sleepy submission," he continued. "I want to see you laugh and play music and dance and tease me, and grace me with your company, and then, when the time is right, I want to see you fall into enchanted bliss when I drink from you."

His head was fogged from trance and praise and flattery. "I… want that too…"

"Then I want you to start to wake up gradually for me, but remain relaxed and happy, with only my influence remaining, no other vampire's. Wake up, Fitz."

Fitz blinked slowly, coming to. His head felt clearer, as though he was returning to himself, with the memories of the ball and the kidnapping growing distant.

He could see Lex, now. Not a vampire superior he needed to serve, but the real Lex, the one who always looked like a mess when he woke up, whose tired eyes lit up when he found a particularly precious book, whose handwriting was disgustingly perfect, who was uneasy around any modern invention. His Lex.

Lex ruffled his hair, breathing deep. "My Fitz. My delightful Fitz. My perfect thrall. What can I do to make you happy?"

"Drink from me," he said automatically.

"Besides that," said Lex, laughing. "What is it that you want most? Be honest."

It was a tall order to be honest when Fitz, on his best days, barely had any sort of a handle on what he actually wanted. One thing did automatically come to mind, though. "I want to return to the stage."

"Oh." Lex drew back, depriving Fitz of his touch and making him feel that he said something wrong.

Fitz blinked, trying to regain his thought processes. "You said to be honest."

"I know. And I do want you to return to the stage. I even promised that you could. But… I confess that I wanted to take care of my sire first. If he finds out I'm allowing you out of the manor to perform…"

"He agreed to leave you alone for a year, didn't he?" said Fitz. "And you're going to kill him."

"If I fail…"

"If you fail, I think we're both doomed, aren't we?" Fitz pulled Lex in closer. "If we're doomed anyway, we might as well have some fun before we go."

A rare and genuine smile blossomed across Lex's face. "You're right," he said. "And I do want to see you on stage. I want to see you in your element."

"Then, I can…?"

"Yes. Yes, you can." Lex kissed him softly, prompting Fitz to kiss him back as though his life depended on it.

---

The dingy office reeked of sweat and makeup and cigarettes. It was surreal to be back here, a familiar location in the world of ordinary humans, after so many weeks spent in the company of vampires. Fitz knocked on the door and entered before there was an answer.

"Son of a bitch," said Mr. Reed. "If it isn't Fitz de Hastings. We thought you were dead, or run out of town."

"Well, here I am, very much alive," said Fitz with a flourish. "Alive and ready to perform for the adoring public, as soon as you'll have me."

"Like hell. You left us in the lurch! I had you booked twice and you didn't show -- I had to put up some novelty music act to fill time, and the way the crowd reacted, I should've just left the stage empty."

"So you needed me, then?"

"Needed you like I need a hole in the head." Mr. Reed stubbed out his cigar. "Where the hell were you, anyway?"

Of course, he couldn't very well say he was kidnapped by vampires. "I was… enthralled with a lover. Surely you understand."

Mr. Reed was unimpressed. "You expect me to believe you had a lover that took up so much of your time you couldn't be bothered to pick up your last paycheck?"

"Alas, slender Aphrodite filled me with unbearable longing," said Fitz, draping himself across a chair. "I couldn't eat, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't walk to the theater --"

"All right, all right, shut up, I don't really want to hear it."

"Then you'll have my act back?" said Fitz with his most endearing smile. "I'm sure the audiences will love to see me now that I've been away for months. The playbill can even advertise my triumphant return."

Mr. Reed groaned, pinching his nose. "You know I really shouldn't give you another chance with the shit you've pulled," he said. "But I've got an acrobat now who just isn't working out. He can twist himself up like a pretzel but he's got no stage presence, you know? Half the crowd falls asleep."

"So what I'm hearing is that you have a slot for me."

"Yes, de Hastings, I have a goddamn slot for you," said Mr. Reed. "Next Friday at 7pm sharp. And if you don't show, that's the last I'll ever do you a favor."

"Thank you, Mr. Reed," said Fitz, jumping up and shaking his hand vigorously, bursting with excitement about returning to the stage. "You won't regret this."

"I think I already am."

Previous > Masterlist

Next week: The first day of Jenny's new life.

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