#like i Struggled to get into the masquerade books at first i won’t lie

[ash-and-starlight]

seth dickinson’s worldbuilding rlly cooked my brain bc reading a high fantasy book that has big kingdoms in the focus rlly has me like… what are the dynamics of oppression at play. what is this empire built on. what is the flow of resources how is it enforced what is the class system how-

[riseupandcomeaway]

Dear left,

I am writing to you in the hopes that you actually don’t need to read this. This should only be read if all of a sudden I disappear along with millions of others and you’re still here. Many have noticed that a common denominator of the missing people is their spiritual belief in Jesus Christ as Son of God, Savior and Lord.

Immediately after the Rapture there will be accidents involving all kinds of vehicles with missing passengers, including cars, trains, airplanes, boats… you name it. There may be piles of clothes and personal belongings lying around everywhere, all over the planet.

Why did it happen?  Because the Lord Almighty is about to pour his wrath upon the earth. God is about to pour His wrath out on the inhabitants of the earth in one last ditch effort to get humanities attention. You have been left behind because prior to the rapture (the snatching away of the true Christians) you have refused to believe in Christ for salvation, or to repent of your sins that have separated you from Him.

PLEASE UNDERSTAND: We were not abducted by aliens, we have not wandered off, we have not disintegrated from a horrible disease, and we have not been taken hostage.  Any other scenario presented to you about our disappearance is a lie. We have been Raptured.  It was foretold in the bible. “For the Lord himself shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God: and the dead in Christ shall rise first. Then we which are alive and remain shall be caught up together with them in the clouds, to meet the Lord in the air and sol shall we ever be with the Lord.” (1 Thes. 4:16-17). We are with God. Plain and simple. Don’t take my word for it, please read it for yourself in a book that’s been around for centuries. In fact, more than two millennia - The Bible. The Bible is a long book; in fact it’s a compilation of 66 Books / Letters. Takes a while to get through, but it does end. Let me save you the suspense. God wins.

You are in for some extremely difficult times. You will want to start finding some remote location in which to hide. Save drinking water, food stores, vitamins, medical supplies, a generator, gasoline and oil. You’ll be needing all of these things. You’ll need to know how to grow your own food. The lawlessness that will scourge the earth will have seen no rival. Grab a bible now! There may come a time when it will be impossible to obtain one and illegal to own one. It can give you the truth better than my simple words ever could. Don’t believe anything that is being fed to the world through the media or the government. Cling to Jesus Christ and His saving work of atonement on the cross for your sins.

Now, you need to prepare for the next seven years. This seven year period will start with a world leader who will emerge and broker a peace treaty with Israel for 7 years. This is the antichrist. Three and a half years into this treaty, he will break it himself and force the world to worship him as God. This will occur in the rebuilt Third Temple Mount of Israel. THIS IS IMPORTANT. Look in Daniel 9:26,27. This week is seven years. This begins the Tribulation. After seven years, Jesus will come (the Second Coming) and touch Mount Olives causing an earthquake and He will reign for 1,000 years. When you hear this treaty announced (probably within a few months, or at most a few years), you can mark your calendar and know when Christ will come.

The antichrist will sit in the Jewish Temple, and he will say he is god.  He is NOT! This beast is a great deceiver. The whole world will be amazed and follow him. People will be drawn to this remarkable, charismatic, dynamic, compelling, nearly irresistible man as he masquerades as a saviour, forming a one-world government for a world craving for direction and order. The world will hail him as its savior. He will set himself above all else and will deceive many into accepting him as the supreme dictator.

He will want to control everyone and modern technology can now easily accomplish that. With the world in chaos, perhaps more terrorism, and missing people, keeping track of everyone will sound necessary for the world to become stable and safe again. He will institute a new way of things, including demanding that all people, everywhere, get a special mark on their right hand or forehead. This is the manifestation of the mark of the beast; 666.  At the time of this writing, we do not know exactly what form this mark will take. A lot of people think that it will be some sort of implantable microchip. This makes sense because of the ability to track purchases electronically is commonplace. It could be that the microchip will be tied into a huge database that verifies the person’s bank accounts and automatically deducts the funds. Also, the antichrist may pitch different selling points of the mark like the ability to track lost children, the ability to catch criminals very fast, the ability to safeguard your money. However, I believe the main point of the mark will be to show your allegiance to the antichrist. You will know it is the mark of the beast because you will not be able to buy or sell ANYTHING without it; not food, water, clothes, shelter; nothing. This will control all your financial transactions. More than likely, money will be obsolete and any funds you may have in the bank (or stocks, etc ) is worthless unless you take this mark. Living day to day will become difficult without the ability to buy or sell anything. Once someone takes this mark of the beast they cannot take it back to make a choice for Christ.  The stakes are high and the decision that you make will determine where you will be for eternity.

DO NOT, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, AGREE TO TAKE THIS MARK!!

TAKING THIS MARK WILL SIGNIFY THAT YOU ARE A SATAN WORSHIPPER, YOUR SOUL WILL BE LOST, AND YOU WILL SUFFER FOREVER.

I won’t mince words about what this system (the mark of the beast ) means to you. Your chances of making it alive to the end of the tribulation period is slim. It will likely cost you your life here on earth but will give you eternity in exchange.

The whole world is going to hate you and it will be a daily struggle to just to stay alive. The only way I can see for you to get from where you are now to where we are now is that not only will you have to pass through great tribulation, but also you will probably have to suffer a martyr’s death for refusing to worship the “Image of the Beast.” It’s a shame. It really is. But you had your chance, just like the rest of us. It would have been so much easier back when the Church and the Holy Spirit were on earth for you to accept Jesus Christ as your Savior. It’s going to be hard now, really hard, but you can do it. YOU HAVE TO DO IT. Look at it like I used to look at my life on earth. Even if I lived to be 100 years old, that compared to eternity would be like one tiny drop of water compared to all the oceans. It’s the same with you. Even if you have to suffer 7 years of hell and even if you have to die a martyr’s death; compared to eternity it is like a tiny drop of water compared to all the oceans.

Let me assure you that your reward in heaven is incomprehensibly better than any temporary safety you may garner from accepting this mark. I want to leave you with this verse:

Revelation 21:4

And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.

If you happen to have read this before the rapture, here are some of the site I highly recommend you to visit on a regular basis to keep yourself informed as the hour draws nearer:

NOW THE END BEGINS

ACTIVIST POST

WHATFINGER

RAPTURE READY

GERI UNGUREAN

LISA BOYD

JASON A ON YOUTUBE

THE CORBETT REPORT

SPIRO SKOURAS

BREITBART NEWS

THE JERUSALEM POST

ZERO HEDGE

Till the glorious appearing,

🤍

ctto

[thecloserkin]

book review: Helen Oyeyemi, White is For Witching (2010)

Genre: haute literature masquerading as gothic magical realism

Is it the main pairing: no

Is it canon: no

Is it explicit: no

Is it endgame: no

Is it shippable: not really

Bottom line: if they’re not in love what even is the point? i feel like this story is a collection of twincest tropes someone slapped together without bothering to inject any chemistry

Twins Miranda and Eliot Silver inherit a haunted house from their lately deceased mother. Their father converts the house into a bed-and-breakfast, except the staff keep quitting because GHOSTS, and then Miranda goes missing. That’s the mystery at the center of the book. Where did Miranda go? What happened to her? Well to begin with Miranda was a very troubled girl:

My sister turned seventeen in a mental health clinic; I brought our birthday cake to her there.

Miranda has an eating disorder that has rendered her an ethereal sack of bones. Her father refuses to buy her new clothes; he insists she must fill out enough to fit into her old ones. She’s not interested in food but she’s got an insatiable hunger for materials like plastic and rubber and her go-to, chalk:

She took some chalk out of the pocket of her dress. When she offered Eliot a stick of it he looked surprised, but took it and stuck it in his mouth, pretended to smoke it like a cigar while she ate.

That’s beautiful, isn’t it? Sad but beautiful. The two of them sitting in companionable silence, Miranda chewing on a piece of chalk and Eliot not judging her at all.

when we were ten I always knew the meaning of the sounds she made, even when they were unsuccessful

The implicit contrast between when we were ten and now (late adolescence/early adulthood) is the yawning gap that has opened up between the twins—they no longer share every waking thought. This is them moving to Dover from London in the wake of their mother’s loss:

Miri and I conferred and decided we liked the tallness of the house … We liked that the passageways on each floor were wide enough for the two of us to stand beside each other with our arms and legs spread, touching but not touching.

I’m not even sure when he says they conferred that they were using words, you know? It’s entirely possible that telepathic communication came as naturally as breathing to these two. You have to remember the two of them were experiencing seven different kinds of upheaval and displacement—uprooted from their neighborhood, their classmates and friends and routines; motherless; plunked down in the middle of a new town; inhabiting a restless house that’s trying to inhabit them.

Miri is good at making friends, and I am good at tagging along on expeditions and acting as if the whole thing was my idea in the first place … Actually, when we were sixteen Miri gave me the task of telling Martin that he didn’t stand a chance with her.

Of course she delegates the task of rejecting a suitor to her brother lol. In addition, what this passage tells us is that they ran in more or less the same circles. They had the same friends. They were inseparable and they probably thought they would remain so from womb to tomb. Such sweet summer children they were.

She said, “You’re applying to Cambridge?” Uncertainty worked his mouth. She thought she had wobbled in her seat, then realized she hadn’t moved at all; the thought don’t go had flashed through her like a swarm of pins. Eliot was one of those boys that made girls go quiet. He was so beautiful that it seemed certain he was arrogant or insensitive or stupid … His bone structure was scary and unnatural and flawless. Besides that he was her knight.

Cue Miranda flashing back to when they were kids role-playing King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. Of course she applies to Cambridge too, not in the expectation that she’ll actually get in but because she can’t cope with the idea of being apart from Eliot. She’s never been apart from Eliot. In one of those ironic quirks of fate she gets in and he doesn’t, and he watches her and all their friends go off to university while he takes a gap year in South Africa, during which his radio silence causes Miranda no end of anxiety. She thinks he is punishing her. They go from this:

Eliot lay under Miranda’s elbows, reading Moby-Dick while she used his back to prop up her collected works of Poe.

and this

Miranda was so cold in her bed that she knew she couldn’t survive it and knocked on the wall between her and Eliot’s rooms. With minimal grumbling, he came and climbed into bed with her and let her lie with her head on his breastbone, his arms around her

to this:

She thought of Eliot. He anchored her mind, a troublesome weight, reassuring.

She’s never learned how to be without him.

In addition to the Miranda POV there are three first-person narrators of varying degrees of unreliability: Eliot, the house itself, and a girl Miranda falls in love with at Cambridge. All three of them want different things from Miranda, and it’s impossible to discern who the “real” Miranda is or what she wants because she’s constantly being pulled in different directions.

SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS

So the house. It is perhaps not correct to characterize the house as the antagonist of the story, but the thing certainly lies at the root of Miranda’s mental health struggles. The house is sentient. The house is the repository of the souls of Miranda’s ancestors in the maternal line: her mother and grandmother and great-grandma, all of their personalities absorbed into a kind of mind-meld …. and you better believe that the Borg is coming for Miranda too. The house taking over Miranda’s body actually explains many of the gaps in her memory, and the fact that she looks like a completely different person from pictures taken only a few years ago. Eliot and Miranda’s father has a recurring dream where he’s trying to get into the house but the doors and windows are all boarded up, he’s hollering for the twins’ mother and there is no one to let him in. Eliot is afflicted by the same dream, only it’s Miranda he’s calling for, Miranda who won’t let him in. I bring up this parallel in order to observe that Miranda stands in the same relation to Eliot as their mother does to their father, and isn’t that interesting. It isn’t that the twins don’t have love interests, but these never seem to last: Eliot gets himself a girlfriend and it doesn’t work out; Miranda gets herself a girlfriend, brings the chick home for the holidays, and the poor girl is driven out of her wits by the toxicity of the house and its possessiveness of Miranda.

When their mother was alive she was really big on drawing BOUNDARIES between the twins. She tried to make Eliot understand that:

my pressing my lips to Miri’s nine-year-old heartbeat was not the same as feeling the blood move in myself.

But once they lost their mother they grew closer. This is the money quote:

everyone thinks that twin brothers and sisters grow up magnetized towards each other, the prince at the foot of Rapunzel’s tower before the tower is even built, the lover you can get at all the fucking time, the one who is you but a girl, or you but a boy, whose bed you know as well as your own. How could you endure that without falling in love? The question is, were they born in love with each other, these twins, or did it blossom? At any rate it’s already happened, the onlookers agree. It must have. Ask them when they fell. The brother and sister say no, no, it’s nothing like that, but what they mean is they can’t remember when.

!!!! Excuse me while I commission someone to engrave these words on a 24-karat gold plaque and hang it up in my living room. The book was worth reading for this quote alone. The Rapunzel reference!!!!!! Why the hell did Helen Oyeyemi not write a novel about incest in fairy tales:

A pair of hands slipped over her eyes and rested there, heavy and warm. The screwdriver fell. “Hello Gretel,” her brother said in her ear. She heard the screwdriver roll across the floor and knew he had kicked it … “Hello Hansel.” She laid her own hands on his wrists; he kissed the tip of her ear. “So we’re in a fairy tale … I knew it,” she said, as he led her out of the laundry room.

….instead of the book she actually wrote which obviously fell short of my expectations lol.

[some-rfa-imagines]

A Big List Of Prompts

i thought ‘why not?’ and made one of these for myself. I wandered around the internet for a while and shoved together a bunch of prompts I thought were interesting. Pick a character and a number (pls specify) and I’ll write you a thing!

Most of these are not mine!!!

hhhhh lets hope i know what i’m doing

Dialogue:

“I don’t think this is the biggest mistake you’ve made. It’s probably like… third worst.”

“Shouting at each other across the room doesn’t count as having a proper conversation about your feelings you know. Wouldn’t you rather all of this be private, anyway?”

“No pressure, honest. It’s not like the world is depending on you or anything.”

“But if they think we’re a couple, we'll get the couples discount!”

“Are you always this prone to bad luck and violence? If so, that’s kind of sad.”

“Can I just whoop your ass… like… right now?”

“Rules? Nope, not listening. I’m not following them. Never have, never will.”

“Did operation steal the cat and return the nuclear codes get completed yet?"

“I call it 'the plan that will save the world and also remove minions for good'."

“what the hell are you doing with (other character)'s dog locked in your garden?!"

“Yeah!, heh, I just uh remembered that, uhm- I have- uh.. I have a few places to see and uh *ahem*, people to go- I mEAN- uhm, yeah,,, I-I’ll- I’ll be right back— oh! Uh, completely unrelated to that, uh, ngh, wheres the nearest cliff?”

“Shut up [name], just because you have the grace and social skills of a drunken ferret, does not mean I must.”

“You’re so convinced that I’ll hurt them that you haven’t considered it’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

“What have I told you about listening to your gut more? It’s smart. Do it.”

“Pal, I don’t know where you got the idea that I’m a good person, but if you want to keep it. Leave now.”

“I can be sweet. Sometimes. To certain people. It happens!”

“Stop laughing!”

“Call me [blank] - not that that's my name.”

“So I suppose you want to ask me how I pulled it off.”

“Didn’t you know darling? The key to getting away with a crime is making people think you are peaceful.”

"I hope that what I've said hasn't hurt you too much."

"Move away from the door and let me at him."

"You embarrassed me this evening."

"I want to turn back the clock to before..."

"Try focusing more on your life and less on mine!"

"There's something I need to get off my chest."

"I did a pregnancy test."

"If you get me his phone, I might reconsider."

"I knew you wouldn't be able to see it through."

"You were meant to be watching him!"

"How dare you look down your nose at me like that."

“It’s not my fault you’re short.”

“Tell me right now or I swear on my life you’ll regret everything.”

“You’re back!”

“I missed you.”

“I did my best, okay?!”

“Kiss me right this second.”

“Just do it!”

“I believe you’ll come back to us. I just know it.”

“You’re not a bad person… You… You wouldn’t…”

“I can’t trust you… Not anymore.”

“Don’t leave me!”

“You promised we were in this together…”

“Wait a minute, are you flirting with me?”

“You’re even more stunning.”

“As many as the stars in the sky.”

“CAN YOU EVEN READ?!”

“You’re actually the most insufferable person I’ve ever had the pleasure meeting.”

“I risked everything for you.”

“I… I love you, okay?”

“Who the hell are you and why is my favourite book in a puddle of orange juice.”

“This is a lot harder than it looks and I don’t think you realise that.”

“That’s the lamest pickup line I’ve ever heard of.” “Damn. Well, it was just plan A.” “And what’s plan B…?” “To take you hostage.”

“What the fuck did they do to you in that lab?”

“Ehhh, needles, comas, that deep freeze thing in the first room, shoving these onto my back. Oh also they forced me to eat soggy bread.”

“Love, you underestimate how much food I can shove in my mouth before I need to be stopped.”

“Okay so why did you have to smash that vase again” “I DIDN’T MEAN TO, IT GOT IN THE WAY”

“Welcome to my treasure trove.” “There’s a sword.” “Yeah.” “wHY DO YOU HAVE A SWORD.” “...” “caaaaaan i touch it?”

“Love, I’ve done this before. Every hundred years. For seventeen millenniums.”

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO (NAME)?!”

“Are… Who are these people? They- They look like me…”

“So, what do you want for dinner?” “I’m thinking Italian. Like, Italian.” “BABE.”

“Oooh, look at the detail on that mirror.”

“Okay now you’re just messing with me and you need to stop.”

“Okay, I know I’m idiotic to get lost in a corn maze but who the fuck are you and why are you apparently as idiotic as I am.”

“I was on my way to buy that soul for Satan, who do you think you are. You can’t do that.”

“I’m sure you know who I am.”

“Huh…? Oh, fuck.”

“I swear to god, my little sister will kill me when I get home.”

“Bit rude to swear to God right now, don’t you think?”

“Fuck. I’m going to die. Damn.”

“YOU DEFINITELY WILL IF YOU DRINK THAT.”

“You know you can’t bring (them), Your Highness, (they’ll) be used against you.”

“Don’t hold me responsible, I wasn’t even there.” “Yeah, but you gave me the idea.”

“You know what, fuck you.”

“The fuck did you say they put on my gravestone?!”

“Honey, I don’t care if you’re the fucking queen or an uncooperative cat, get off your ass and live your life you trash bag.”

“Hey, calm down, please, oh god okay, calm aura, calm aura, please stop freaking out, calm down, it’s okay, you can do this.”

“So that’s it? We’re done?”

“Please, just… hold me. Just for a moment.”

“I think I’m just gonna sleep outside and let the snow bury me until I die.”

“So… what are we?”

“Don’t you dare take another step out that door!”

“This better be good.”

“That… was the worst excuse I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“I’m saying you don’t have a rulebook.”

“These kinds of things don’t just come with an instruction manual, [name]!”

“Why, that’s absurd!”

“I would never.”

“It makes me so uncomfortable when people ask me, ‘Where do you see yourself in 'x’ years?’ Like… I see myself cold in the ground, my guy, but that’s not the answer you want to hear so this is an awkward predicament we’re in, huh.”

“Listen up fucker.”

“Let me tell you all the reasons why I won’t do that.”

“HAVE YOU HEARD OF A TURN SIGNAL EVER IN YOUR LIFE”

“I am already the family disappointment, what more do you want from me”

“Do you?”

“Get. Out.”

“If people are watching, we might as well make this entertaining!”

“I’ve absolutely never seen you in my entire life so if you’ll just excuse me now, have a good day!”

“Okay, stop going to sleep at 4am, it makes you philosophical and sentimental and that’s weird.”

“Make me.”

Setting:

The night sky lit up for a second and what followed sounded a lot like the end of the world.

It's not always the case of 'these guys are foolish to only send one guy' sometimes it's 'we should be terrified they only sent one guy.’

Dear reader, I wish I could tell you that you're going to like this story.

Without meaning to, they’d arranged two dates for the same evening.

Everything about [name] was a lie.

They'd only been apart for a week and already he had a new lover hanging off his arm.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye.

You guys were taking forever and I was hungry so I baked cookies who wants some?

First Lines:

[Character] had enjoyed ten years of being totally irresponsible.

The pencil had NOT been worth stealing.

[Character] wasn't happy about it, but [pronoun]’d been recalled to life for one reason or another.

If [Character] could change one thing, it would be carrying that gun.

It was enchanting. Either that or [name] was incredibly wasted.

AUs: (many from this blog! Complete credit to them)

Masquerade Ball AU: Person A and Person B can’t recognise each other

Frustrated Customer and Tired Employee AU

Hitman AU: Person A and Person B are hired to take each other out

Assassin AU: After watching B for so long, A has begun to fall for them

Pirate/Mermaid AU

Coffee Shop AU: Why’d you have to smile at me like that, I couldn’t even concentrate on your order oh god I’m blushing why am I so fLUSTERED

Overthrown Royalty AU: Okay so I love you and all, but why the fuck did you have to start a war they’re going to kill you - you’re a dead (queen/king) walking and I hope you know that.

Blood dripped down B’s chin. A knew B was a vampire. A knew they needed blood. But it was a little offensive when B drank from others!Vampire AU

my little sister really looks up to you because she’s going through that phase so she’ll probably kill me again when i get home!Idol AU

Fantasy AU: A is suspicious of the legends. You know, those legends. Everyone knew about them. The ones about the dragons in the hills.

Spy AU: “Fuck, why did you have to be the one to join me on this mission you do realise that it’s dangerous and they don’t care whether we die or not.”

I know my cupcakes are better than your blueberry muffins and that’s what matters and wait holy shit these are actually pretty good!Baking AU

Medieval AU

(Alt) Modern AU

We were both stood up by our dates at this fancy restaurant and they have an ‘at least two to a table’ policy so you need to have dinner with me AU

I know shit all about music theory but I’ve already written and composed hit songs while you’ve been taking lessons for years and struggle with melody please don’t kill me!Musician AU

I answered your weirdly specific craigslist roommate ad as a joke and now we’re living together!Roommates AU

You’re really short and cute and you buy a cup of black coffee every morning but you make weird faces as you sip it and you never finish your drink are you trying to look mature or something!coffee shop AU

reincarnation AU: person A meets their favourite band/singer and realises they were friends in a past life

Hello I’m your boss and you’re the new employee who just saw me shove an entire cupcake into my mouth!Office AU

We’re neighbours and you work at a flower shop and your place is always filled with flowers. I’m too self-conscious to say anything, but I’m allergic af and I look like I’ve been crying every time we meet. Now you probably think I’m in an abusive relationship or something omg

I don’t really know you but we’ve shared a bus stop for years and I just got my first car and I hope this isn’t weird but what I’m trying to say is do you want to carpool with me from now on? Like, to save the environment, I mean.

I can’t give you what you want, why didn’t I leave before we go too emotionally involved AU

I came up to the roof of our apartment building at 2 AM to see this asteroid go by and just as I stepped out you came running at me screaming so naturally I froze and you’re screaming at me so loud I can’t understand what you’re - oh the door locks behind you. Well now we’re both locked out here gdi

someone in the dorms makes amazing cookies and you’re trying to figure it out and walk in on me baking at four in the morning!College AU

I found you duct-taped to a telephone pole thirty feet off the ground

Just to be polite, I held the door open for you but now we’re both insisting that the other go first and we’re seriously about to get into an argument about it and cAN YOU JUST WALK THROUGH THE DOOR P L E A S E

I’m in this museum for a school project, but you are apparently here for fun and good lord you are good looking, so I’m totally going to pretend I know anything at all about the life and works of this random artist…Rembrandt, you say?

IKEA AU: I’m a cashier and when you looked for your wallet about a hundred of our pencils dropped out of your pocket, that’s actually pretty impressive where did you even hide them?

I was rehearsing lines for the romantic lead and I didn’t see you through that window, I had no idea that YOU were playing my romantic interest and now I can’t remember a single line

I tried my hand at this thing called cooking but I ended up making enough to feed a small army. You’re my next door neighbour, so like, are you hungry? You can bring the beer

Soulmates:

Looking around, A tried to spot their best friend when they saw it. Their own handwriting, on someone else’s arm.

A sees B in their mirror every night. They’ve never met in real life.

You can see colours but realise that recently, with each passing day, your world of colours is becoming a little duller and you’re panicking because you don’t know what’s going on, or what it means, or if your soulmate is okay.

We’re having our first argument as a married couple: do we explore this island, or do we stay in bed all day

I can’t give you what you want, why didn’t I leave before we go too emotionally involved AU

You’re not sure if the other half of your tattoo should end with this person’s words, or that one’s—wait, I think it might end with the phrase of that other person too. It’s just a very open-ended sentence…

You’re an Angel and I’m a Demon and we met while hiding in human form and I love you

Author:

Write an apology letter to the character you hurt the most.

Complete the sentence for [character]: “I think the most important thing in the world is…”

You see someone being hit in the street. What superpower would you like to have in this situation?

Write a scenario where you meet your characters.

Would your characters like you? As a person or as an author?

Have a philosophical conversation with your characters.

I would love if you added your own prompts to this! I’ll probably go back and add more later. in the meantime, i’ll go hunt down all the necessary credits! byee~

[bitterbeetle]

Fire, Ice, and Shadow

i wrote. the ot3. because i am weak. 3200 words, rated G.

AO3

They spend their time dancing around each other in a façade of comradery. Their feelings are dancers at a masquerade, elaborate masks easily mistaken for another. It’s simple. It’s safe.

Yet since when did safe pair so well with heartache?

It begins with Obi—or rather, it begins with alcohol and cards and candlelight, too many pillows, too much comfort. It begins with Shirayuki’s laugh, Zen’s fondly exasperated huff, and Obi revealing his royal flush. It begins with Obi, three too many drinks and candlelight playing over the fire and ice of his closest companions’ hair.

It begins with several words, spoken with too much honesty, too much feeling to be a joke.

“Ah, damn. I love you two.”

Here’s the thing: Obi is a shadow.

Silence is his thing, omnipresence his brand. He knows he’s taken for granted; that doesn’t offend him. It’s part of the job. Being needed is nothing new.

To be wanted? He didn’t realize how much he reveled in it, how much he craved it. It feels like too much to ask for friendship, yet he got trust, too. There’s no asking for more. His place is as a knight—he knows where the line is drawn.

Shirayuki is fire. She’s warm, lively, with a passion that sparks some sort of fire in Obi as well. Her fire is one that is deadly as it is necessary for life—just as the herbs she uses to heal could be poison, if not for her honest nature. She’s approachable. Obi feels drawn in.

Zen is ice; steadfast and gleaming, like starlight on a winter night. He’s sharp, as beautiful as he is dangerous. He’s frost flowers and sharp icicles, unapproachable by status alone. Yet when one is enveloped by him, it’s warm. So damn warm.

Together, the pair is a force to be reckoned with. They have their own current, pushing and pulling, sucking Obi within their tide.

He’s drowning and he hates how much he’s grown to desire it.

He plays it off by blaming the alcohol, as though he can’t even remember what he said. They know he never drinks to inebriation, but they seem to buy it, and Obi avoids.

He’s a shadow, so it doesn’t take much effort than the usual. It’s just that now, Obi is hyperaware of himself in a way he wasn’t before. His expressions, his posture, his words—how much of it might give away the truth? So he tucks it carefully away.

Too carefully, as it turns out.

Kiki is the first to corner him under the pretense of discussing Lyrias. When her gaze turns sharp, Obi realizes his mistake, but it’s too late.

“Are you avoiding his highness?” she asks bluntly.

“No,” says Obi.

“Hm,” is all she says, and then the conversation returns to its original topic. Obi is forced to stay on his toes for the rest of the discussion.

He’s certain Kiki won’t leave it at that, so he isn’t actually surprised when Mitsuhide comes next. The prince’s aide doesn’t try to trick Obi. When they next meet as Obi is switching with the night guard, Mitsuhide blocks his way with his arms folded.

“Kiki said you’re avoiding Zen.”

“I explicitly remember saying I wasn’t,” says Obi.

“But you are.” Mitsuhide cocks his head, frowning. “Are you ill?”

Obi blinks. “I—no?”

“Hm,” says Mitsuhide in a perfect copy of Kiki. “It’s just that I’d expect you to avoid Zen if you were concerned he would fall ill.”

Damn, that would’ve been a great excuse—if not for the fact they would send him straight to Shirayuki.

“I’ve got guard duty,” points out Obi wryly. “Could I perhaps get back to that?”

For a moment, it looks like Mitsuhide might refuse out of sheer obstinacy, but he shrugs and steps aside. “I’ll tell Zen you’re healthy.”

“Thanks,” says Obi, doing his best to hide his sarcasm. Great. That’s as close to admittance as they’re going to get that he is using all his tasks to avoid the prince.

It isn’t until the next day when Obi spots Ryuu staring at him from across the courtyard that he thinks he might need to change tactics. Avoiding the prince is far more difficult than avoiding Shirayuki, who works constantly in the pharmacy when she isn’t gathering plants. Apparently, Obi made a habit of dropping by far more often than he thought.

“Did I do something?” asks Ryuu when Obi approaches.

“What? Of course not.” Uh oh.

Ryuu’s face pinches slightly. Obi regrets a lot of various things instantly.

“Then, is it Shirayuki you’re avoiding?”

Ah, there it is. “I’m sorry, little Ryuu,” says Obi, reaching out a hand to ruffle his hair. “I’ve been busy, is all. I’ll try to drop in more often.”

“Okay,” says Ryuu. “Good.”

When the boy leaves, Obi releases a sigh. Time to switch tactics.

The next day, he makes a point of visiting the pharmacy. Shirayuki is in, and when she turns to see Obi leaning in the window, her face brightens. Obi basks in it. It feels as though he may be poisoning himself by overexposure.

That evening, Obi joins Zen in his study as he works. He comes in through the window, open for a breeze and a shadow, and takes his position off to one side. Kiki is present as well. If Obi isn’t mistaken, he thinks he spots a smile on her usually impassive face. The prince himself doesn’t appear to have noticed Obi’s arrival. The room is filled with the scratch of Zen’s pen and the pages of the hefty book in Kiki’s hands. Eventually Kiki excuses herself for a moment. As soon as the door clicks shut behind her, Zen finishes his signature with a flourish and reaches for a new page.

“Nothing need change,” says Zen suddenly. Obi’s gaze snaps to stare at the back of his head, where he had been stubbornly not looking for the past hour. “Unless you want it to.”

The prince says nothing more until he’s finished his work, by which time Kiki has returned and he’s dismissing them for the evening. When Obi leaves to grab dinner from the mess hall, his mind is unfortunately running Zen’s words on repeat. Change what? And only if he wants it to? Obi almost wishes that Zen was more straightforward about it.

Or that Obi is able to believe that what Zen meant is what he hopes—

He takes a corner too fast and collides spectacularly with a stack of boxes—or actually, a stack of boxes with arms and legs and a bloom of scarlet hair.

Obi manages to catch one box, Shirayuki firmly wrapped around the bottom one, while the third hits the stone and scatters its contents everywhere. Seeds spill out across the floor. Obi thinks he actually hears Shirayuki breathe out a curse.

“Sorry, miss,” says Obi at once, kneeling to put the box down and work on cleaning up the seeds.

“Oh, Obi! It’s fine, nothing’s damaged.” She sets aside her own box to help him. “Times like these I wonder why seeds must be so small.”

“Just so they can grow into these cracks,” says Obi, using his nail to free several from between the stone slabs. “Do you think the king would mind having a herb garden in the middle of the walkway?”

Shirayuki grimaces. “I don’t suppose we could make it sound like a good idea.”

Obi laughs. Working together, the seeds return to their jar quickly. Obi helps Shirayuki with her balancing act, carefully stacking the boxes in her arms. They don’t seem that cumbersome—someone whipping around the corner would make anyone drop their belongings—but Obi is still tempted to ask if she needs any help.

“Obi, did you happen to speak with Zen today?”

The temptation fizzles out instantly. Now Obi just wants to backflip the way he’d come and vanish from sight.

“Only briefly,” admits Obi, “but he was… busy.”

“Oh, I see.” She looks disappointed. “Say, about Zen, do you—?”

“I’m gonna be late!” interrupts Obi with barely concealed panic. “Guard duty, you know how it is.” He wants to kick himself. “Don’t stay up too late counting seeds, miss.”

Obi flees to Shirayuki’s spluttering farewell. He knows he wouldn’t be able to lie to her face. Redirecting and running away is his only option, as cowardly as it is. Obi doesn’t think he’d be able to live through a conversation like that. Oh, yes, I like my master. A lot. More than a knight should. In fact, I fancy you the same. Is that strange? And then he’d have to toss himself off the castle wall, or someplace higher since he might accidentally land properly.

Over the next few days, Obi struggles to come to terms with the fact that all his tiptoeing is impeding his work. He’s distracted while on guard duty, which is never fine even if it’s peaceful; while attending Zen, he’s constantly on edge, expecting the prince to point it out, or worse, try to confront Obi about the source of his problems. Worst of all is that the root of every issue since has been because Obi couldn’t keep his mouth shut. Too much comfort, too much trust, and he’d let slip too much honesty. It’s too late to pass it off as a declaration of eternal friendship. He’s been acting too odd.

This may be the first time that Obi has truly felt such intense regret. Well, there was that time when—okay, so maybe it’s the first time feeling it about something that should be…not a big deal.

Let time heal, he tells himself during one afternoon at Zen’s shoulder, checking the grounds. Those three words sound especially good, so Obi continues to chant them in his head until the syllables blur together.

“Obi.”

He snaps to attention, meeting Zen’s eyes when his prince turns to address him. The tassels on his uniform swish. Ridiculous. Unnecessary flourishes. Obi really likes them.

“I need these materials for when we go to Wilant castle,” says Zen, furling a piece of paper he’d been writing on without Obi even realizing. Damn, he really is out of it. “Remind the night guard to check their blades before we go, as well.”

“Yes, master,” says Obi as he accepts the paper. A quick glance shows him it’s mostly items the quartermaster can take care of. Some he might have to ask the blacksmith about. Perhaps Mitsuhide and Kiki would have advice about obtaining those items.

Obi’s first mistake is not steering the conversation along its current route. When Zen lifts his hand to run it through his hair, Obi should have known. Instead, he’s distracted by work—for once—and his prince is sneakier than he gives him credit for.

“I don’t plan on cornering you about the other night,” says Zen. Third mistake: not interrupting him then and there. “I think it’s important we talk about it, however.”

Zen’s gaze bores into Obi’s when he makes his fourth mistake: looking up.

“Shirayuki and I will wait in the greenhouse when the pharmacy closes up.”

He doesn’t say anything more, but simply dismisses Obi as if their chores for the day have been finished, and Obi leaves with a curious tingling in his belly and chest and head and—damn. He’s certainly spent too much time with them.

Instead of floating about the castle mindlessly, his brain on overdrive, Obi finds a tree with dense enough foliage to hide him from curious eyes. There, he thinks.

Overthinks, actually.

Obi prides himself in being able to discern the slightest changes in Zen and Shirayuki’s expressions. That’s how he works, first of all, and secondly, well, he’s maybe overly aware of them, together and apart. Obi has seen the way their faces light up when they see each other, even just hearing each other’s names in casual conversation. He’s seen them come together like a whirlwind, a warm and cold front forming a storm that draws Obi in and keeps him trapped.

He may love watching lightning and listening to thunder, but how much longer until it breaks his heart?

That’s never something that he thought would ever happen. To Obi, love is a distant thing. He contented himself with brief encounters and briefer friendships. The only people he trusted were those that he knew didn’t trust him. Predictable—that’s how he liked people.

Until Zen. Until Shirayuki. Until this cursed feeling blooming in his chest.

Obi knows he wouldn’t give up their friendship for all the riches in the world, yet it seems as though he might be the cause of it shattering nevertheless.

Inevitable is the word that comes to mind. This is what he gets for trusting too much, for wanting.

When the sun’s descent is in full swing, and the sky is melting into warmer hues, Obi drops from his perch back to earth. There’s no avoiding it now.

The walk to the greenhouse is faster than Obi remembers. His feet seem lighter, moving too swiftly, carrying his body too fast, too soon, towards his doom. Obi isn’t one for dramatics, not truly, but this certainly feels like the end of his world as he knows it.

He hopes that maybe, at least, he might be able to joke about it later.

The greenhouse is stifling and warm, as usual. Obi, at least, can blame the prickling of sweat at the nape of his neck on the enclosed space. Unfortunately, Zen and Shirayuki are waiting as promised. Zen is pacing like he might wear a path into the floor itself; Shirayuki is sitting at a bench, but her hands are clamped together in her lap and her gaze fixated on some indiscernible point. Obi almost turns on his heel there and then, but holds still. It takes Zen a moment, while in mid-turn, to catch sight of him.

“Obi!”

He says it as though surprised Obi came—as though elated.

Obi refuses to look too deeply into it.

Shirayuki’s gaze sharpens to focus on him, and she rises to her feet the same moment that Zen ceases pacing. Her hands slide out of sight behind her skirt. Obi tries to pay attention to the little things—Shirayuki’s rosy cheeks, Zen’s disheveled hair—but none are anything new to file away. He’s already memorized them all.

Zen opens his mouth to speak, but Obi beats him to it.

“I apologize if something I said confused you both.”

They both twitch, as though startled.

Zen is the one to ask, “Do you not care about us?”

“…I do,” says Obi. Lying about that would be too cruel—too false.

“You enjoy our company?” prompts Shirayuki next. “I do.”

“You wish to—“

“No more. Please.”

“Obi—“

“I don’t mean to be rude, miss,” interrupts Obi, something burning oddly in his chest, “but I really don’t think we should be having this conversation.”

Zen rolls his eyes. “For the love of—Obi, do you love us?”

“Uh—“ splutters Obi awkwardly. Damn him, coming out of nowhere with the surprise attack. That’s supposed to be Obi’s specialty.

“Yes or no question.”

“Is it, though?” says Obi weakly.

“Well,” concedes Shirayuki, “maybe not. I still want to know the answer though. You said you do.”

“He already admitted he fancied you ages ago,” says Zen to Shirayuki.

Ah, sweet betrayal. Obi does his best not to turn tail and run. That wouldn’t be very becoming of a knight.

“Oh,” breathes Shirayuki, before rounding on Obi with newfound determination. “Do you care for Zen the same way? Similar?”

At this point, Obi realizes there is no fighting it. They are going to force it out of him anyway—and it isn’t like he hasn’t already said it, so really, he’s just clarifying. Or something. Why do feelings have to be so difficult?

“It occurs to me that Obi might be emotionally repressed,” says Zen before Obi can even open his mouth. “Alright, Obi. I trust you as a comrade, I respect you as a knight, I care for you as a friend, and I—well, I…”

He trails off, turning a startling shade of crimson. Still, he’s keeping up a very impressive expression of determination.

“Really, Master,” Obi can’t help but say dryly, “if you’re going to confess to me, shouldn’t you have your words already sorted?”

He almost means it as a joke. Almost.

“I don’t want to hear that from you!” splutters the prince. “I—I want you by my side. As I can’t imagine a future without Shirayuki, neither can I imagine it without you.”

There’s an ache in Obi’s chest that demands he do something about it, but he can’t. He shouldn’t. “What about mister Mitsuhide and miss Kiki?”

“Different,” says Zen at once. “I trust them with my life and I care for and respect them, but I don’t imagine waking up beside them every morning.”

“Ah,” says Obi intelligently. “Um.”

“What our prince means to say,” says Shirayuki, her words strong despite the glow of her blush, “is that there’s a different level of intimacy. As for me—“ She meets Obi’s gaze steadfastly, “—I feel most at ease when I know both of you are safe, where I can—with—with me.”

“What she said,” mumbles Zen, struggling to appear princely.

Obi blinks between them. “So,” he says slowly, his mouth impossibly dry, “if I have…thoughts about embracing or—or touching either of you, then you…wouldn’t mind if I did?”

“I wouldn’t mind,” says Zen, hands on his hips. He looks to Shirayuki. “You?”

She shakes her head, lips pursed around a smile. “No, definitely not.”

Impossible.

“So, you…” Obi’s heart begins running at full speed. “Towards me…”

“Yes, you fool,” blurts out Zen, looking on the verge of a scowl, yet his mouth quirking towards a grin.

“I didn’t realize you were so obtuse,” says Shirayuki with some awe. “Really, Obi, at this rate Zen is going to be bedridden with high blood pressure.”

“Shirayuki…”

Obi can’t stop staring. There they are, right before him, laughing at his—and each other’s—expense. As usual. Except there’s something more, something rose-coloured and vibrant, and it isn’t blocking him out. No, instead it’s enveloping him and filling him with a warmth he didn’t think he would ever feel, never mind deserve.

“I love you two,” he says abruptly, cutting across Zen’s weak protests and Shirayuki’s laughter.

They go quiet, exchange a meaningful look, and turn to him with matching grins far more mischievous than he thinks he could have taught them.

“And we love you,” says Shirayuki warmly.

The hug that follows—two pairs of arms trying to navigate with a hesitant third—is as awkward and wonderful as Obi could ever have imagined. He doesn’t know how long it might take to be able to approach them confidently, but when Zen tightens his embrace around them and Shirayuki gives a wet sort of giggle, Obi decides it would be okay to figure it out with the both of them beside him.

[zenosanalytic]

Strange Practice

So I finished Strange Practice last week, and I’ve been meaning to write a reactions/review/whatever for it but just couldn’t get it together until now, but now I have some free time so here we go. Hopefully I won’t have forgotten everything. Nonspoilery tl;dr: felt a bit rushed/too short plot-wise, some great h/c bits(would have loved more), characters were great, relationships were great, loved the premise, I liked it.

So Greta is a wonderful character. Just the concept, a doctor for monstrous/mythic beings, is great, but Vivian Shaw(@ceruleancynic Ascendant) moves her beyond just a compelling, innovative idea. Greta is sardonic, and considerate, and bull-headed, and harried, and self-sufficient, and cool-headed, and constantly worried she’s imposing on others, and universally well-considered(and deservedly), and unassumingly brave, and kind, and self-sacrificing, and SO very professional(I wish I could underline this >:T), and Imminently practical. When she’s not jumping at the first thin opportunity to go haring off on an ill-considered adventure which presents itself, of course. But, the thing is, she’s also very consciously practical; practicality is a trait she admires and tries to cultivate, which presents this tendency as something of a personal blindspot, making it Very Endearing rather than out-of-character. One gets the sense that, if one were to suggest to Ms. Helsing that allowing a emphysemiac not-uncle to lead her on a hike around a drizzly, winter London following the metaphysical trail of a magically armed supernatural assailant was not, in fact, the most practical thing for one of the two supernatural physicians in London to do, she would probably Huff at the suggestion and explain convincingly in the moment why it was perfectly sensible, quietly recognizing the justice of it and feel rather wretched about doing so later, but would still leap at the next such opportunity to present itself. Like I said: Wonderful ^u^ That such, sometimes warring, traits(and others) are fit so neatly and coherently and believable together in a single person naturalisticly is testament in itself to Ms. Shaw’s skill as a writer and weaver of characters.

Ms. Helsing’s proprietary affection for late-middle-age-seeming, domestic, practical-minded and lonely men, with particular inabilities/refusals to take care of themselves of varying obviousness(Fas with his COPD and smoking, Ruthven with his boredom and VERY intense loneliness; he lives in a gigantic house, alone, and positively LEAPS at the suggestion of filling it with guests? This reader sees what this author is doing there :p) is equally endearing. I don’t think I would call it a “collection” despite the urge to; the role of both Fas and Ruthven in her life as connections to her father, as positive adult influences during childhood, as patients, as mentors, and as dear friends in her own rather lonely life, establishes her relationships with them as more than mere replacement dads, and her gravitation to “older” men as more sincere and personal than fetishism or a “type”. Which isn’t to say there isn’t a sexual side to this psychological tendency: Varney certainly cuts a more romantic and gothic(and, tellingly given Greta’s unrecognized[by her. Equally telling is how often others in Greta’s life warn her away from leaping into danger. They, obviously, are Aware :p :p] thrill-seeking, dangerous) figure than Fas and Ruthven, her attraction to him is clear(though not flagrant by any means; the lightness of its presentation is Delicious, making its overt engagement in the conclusion all the more satisfying. I Await the Fic >:]), and it can hardly be coincidence that he has decidedly middle-aged looks as well. This sort of understated, unobtrusive attention to the psychology of her characters, and the myriad ways psychology is expressed, is a trait of Ms. Shaw’s writing which I have always found deeply engaging.

Ok I’ll stop gushing about Greta. Suffice it to say, the rest of the main cast, for the most part, receives similar close attention. Varney’s psychology gets far more explicit treatment, but the motivations of Fas and Ruthven, and how their conditions connect to their views of themselves and their world, are all there, if dealt with more subtly. But lower-key characterization fits them as characters: they are far more understated people than Varney(or at least, in Fas’s case, his dramatic nature masquerades quite successfully as understated. Though, thinking it over now, his love for histrionic humor hints at the lie). And even with Varney, whose internal struggles are laid bare, the handling of those struggles has a wonderful ambiguous quality that invokes sympathy, establishes clearly his loyalties, yet at the same time left me wondering for much of the book(as Varney does himself) if he was truly safe for Greta to be around. That ability of a writer to put a reader into the mind of a character, to invoke the character’s concerns and emotional state in the reader not as sympathy but as immediate sentiment, is wonderful and rare. I do feel like August Cranswell catches the short end of the characterization-stick a bit, with his character being established more through exposition than the others and his psychology being less explored, but I don’t get the sense this was due to neglect so much as time constraints. His role, while important, is smaller than the others, and I feel like, perhaps, his characterization ended up getting compressed in the editing process, though obvsl that’s entirely a guess on my part.

I also liked the book’s physical descriptions. Ms. Shaw doesn’t dwell on them; they are efficient and evocative. I particularly enjoyed her descriptions of faces and hair, and specifically of eyes; the descriptions of the metallic irises of vampires were especially arresting for me. I wouldn’t call Strange Practice a sensual book, but there was certainly a sensual element to many of its more descriptive parts, particularly the h/c sections and those involving Varney, that I very much enjoyed.

And speaking of hurt/comfort, Strange Practice certainly delivers on that score. The sections dealing with medicine and Ms. Helsing’s practice really showcase Ms. Shaw’s talent for the genre, hitting that mix of competence-porn and intimacy(both physical and emotional) excellently. My only real complaint about it is that there wasn’t more of it, but I suppose the days of general release h/c books are far off yet (:T

There were aspects of the book I found less engaging, though. The plot feels inorganic in places, the timeframe compressed, and it struggles to convey the mood of the city in ways beyond exposition. Strange Practice has a very contained feel; the maincast, main settings, and wherever the action goes are colorful and deep and engaging, but everything else, the background I guess you would say, feels a bit insubstantial. In a way that could work for the story she’s trying to tell, Greta and her friends live in a secret subculture attached only tenuously to “normal” life, but if it was aiming at that it didn’t hit the mark, at least not for me. Having read Ms. Shaw’s fanfic I know this isn’t a question of ability -I’ve always found her settings as engaging and “alive” as her characters- so again, I wonder if this is a product of translating her writing to a mass market product. Regardless, while the plot is flawed, it didn’t detract from my appreciation of the book as a whole, or the brightness and appeal of its characters.

I could probably write more about this, but I think this is probably long enough |:| I enjoyed Strange Practice thoroughly, immediately started brainstorming fic while reading it(always a good sign), was Very Pleased with the ending, and am currently low-key excited to see Ms. Shaw’s sequel(Greta being unaware of her beauty is Excellent u_u Greta in exquisite high-end clothes being unaware of her beauty is A Delight u_u u_u). My reaction to it wasn’t as strong or immediate as to The Goblin Emperor or His Majesty’s Dragon, but I liked it, it was fun, the concept and setting is engaging, the prose is general quite good, and I adored its characters.