#night shift podcast spoilers

[naaddiie]

Sebastian Fen: I just need to get through dinner without calling attention to myself.

Sebastian Fen, not two minutes later, about to fist fight his in-laws even though they could ruin his entire life, probably: *shaking with restraint* Let Me Tell You Exactly Why You Are Wrong-

[veil-touched-rights-org]

This is Part 1 of a series of posts about moments in the Night Shift Podcast that made me pause/things that I look back on and have thoughts about (or just thoughts). I’m not planning on doing any kind of deep analysis here (though I’m sure I eventually will be doing that as well), as much as just highlighting some moments that for whatever reason stood out. This will be long, as its the entirety of the first episode. 

I also want to be clear that there are spoilers throughout - I’ve also tagged as such. The general tag for this series will be "the veil opens", so watch for that!

All transcript portions pulled from the Night Shift web site (https://www.nightshiftpod.com/)

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads “[Audio cuts]”. End ID.]

Take this in, savor it, it will be a rare occurrence, as Seb has a lot of trouble turning off recorders, as you will later see. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “My goal here, really, isn’t to prove anything. It’s just to talk about it.” End ID.]

Seb, baby, my dear, sweet man, stop lying to yourself. 

All jokes aside, I have no doubts that Sebastian actually started with this mentality, at least sort of. Like wanting to talk about it with sources that weren’t exclusively bought out by Augur or state-owned, and as he did so his natural want to know and understand strengthened this into a more investigative thing. Then his goal wasn’t to prove anything specific as much as that something generally was wrong. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “If you’re from Echor, you’ll also know a thing or two about ALPHAs. If you’re not, you’ve probably heard of them on the news or something. Augmented humanity, manufactured by the most progressive - and impressive - scientific minds in the United States.” End ID.]

It’s actually wild that this was the least shady thing going on here. Like, the super soldier genetic engineering program was fine, in the face of everything else. I remember hearing this and being like “that must be a controversial program” and it just wasn’t. Thinking it was weird was the controversial opinion and a rare one. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “Of course they’d say that. Augur are responsible for creating these genetically engineered freaks.” End ID.]

Sebastian, I have some news for you, about your genes.

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “North: Well, I think it’ll be good for you anyway. Something to channel all that energy into. Even if Feldman’s a creep. Sorry - is he going to listen to this? Actually, I don’t care. He’s a creep and he should know it. So, how many shots of espresso do you think I can drink before I see God?” End ID.]

I don’t actually have anything to say other than that I love them. Adair North is a treasure who is doing their best, even if they’ve bought the corporate propaganda. In their defense, it seems that not doing so is an even bigger rarity in Echor than in our world. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “Sebastian: I don’t really like the idea of being experimented on for science. End ID.]

This, my friends, is what we call foreshadowing (or just an unfortunate coincidence). 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “Sebastian: It’s Friday night, about 1am. The shop is empty as usual. Who wants coffee on a Friday after midnight? Still it pays the bills.” End ID]. 

Me. I want coffee on a Friday after midnight.

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “preternatural”. End ID.] 

This sounds like a joke but I did actually pause this here because I LOVE the word preternatural. Like, I sat for a minute happy that this word was here. I’m not sure why I like this word so much, but hearing it so early on probably helped with how much this podcast dug its way into my heart. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: I understand what you’re asking here - the answer is yes. It would be possible. Theoretically, it would be easy. I’m sure you’ve heard stories of the incredible feats people can pull off in life or death situations, right? How people can survive climbing down mountains with broken legs or wrestle a polar bear to save their children? It’s called Hysterical Strength, and it happens in extreme situations when there’s just the right cocktail of cortisol, adrenaline, and endorphins. Humans only use a fraction of our maximum theoretical strength and our bodies naturally conserve energy, not waste it. In most cases, pain and fatigue keep us from reaching our max potential to prevent injury, but when those aren’t a factor, anyone could - again theoretically - run at intense speed or lift an unnatural amount of weight. It’s entirely possible that a drug could be developed that would replicate the physical conditions to set off” End ID]. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: Hysterical Strength. Although, it's never been replicated in a lab on public record, so it still seems unlikely. End ID.]

So, I’m mostly highlighting this to talk about how much I love the way Night Shift grounded itself in reality. (Briefly I also want to praise it for both clearly branding itself as fictional, and making itself obviously fictional as things move on. There have definitely been some podcasts in this style that I had to stop listening to because it messed with my head, and I think this made it much more accessible than it would otherwise be.) Hysterical strength is a very real thing, it really exists in our very real world! And while the specifics of genetics don’t match, the idea of things in our environment altering us in ways we don’t get, and genes being unexplainable also pulls from science in a grounded way. (I personally, have a genetic mutation that is not super understood that does things to me that aren’t entirely understood - unfortunately none of that include preternatural abilities.) 

It does a lot to make this show more understandable, as it means that there is more of a base for what’s new, and not explained by the podcast (as it's assumed to be understood by the in-world listeners.) It makes urban fantasy work so so so well! 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “augmentation programs, and I’m inclined to believe it. It’s been more than two centuries since widespread magic died out. What remains is little more than the echoes of hereditary powers, and that’s limited to a fraction of our population. End ID.]

When I tell you I gasped. Firstly, this is new for the Urban Fantasy I’ve encountered. The idea that the magic of this world is largely inconsequential now? Again, a moment that got me hooked - how would they compensate for that (amazingly as it turns out). Around here is also when I decided that when I was recommending it to people, I was going to call it “Urban Fantasy with a Sci-Fi flair”. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “Sebastian: This was an interview with Volta earlier this year after CEO Wesley Hastings announced the ‘Alpha Prime’ initiative. This initiative intends to see an ALPHA Prime, aka an ALPHA with superior powers like…generating fire and camouflaging into their environment, placed in law enforcement in every capital city in the United States in the next ten years. As usual, Volta was the poster boy for the project.” End ID]

The impersonal nature and derision of how he approaches Angelo is almost startling after finishing the first season to be honest - but all relationships start somewhere, and the way their relationship grows is great. More importantly than my character/relationship/ship musings is the terror that I have with the idea of every police force having a super soldier who can set me on fire. It effectively set me up to distrust Augur, even more than everything else// 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “Sebastian: Never underestimate my ability to stick to a useless task. That is my superpower. End ID.]

Sure it is, buddy. The only one too, I’m sure. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “North: My opinion on ALPHA is… that they’re hot. If you’re an ALPHA you’re hot. It’s like a given, you know?” End ID.]

Look, they're right, right? Like, I’m an asexual lesbian so it's probably a different kind of hot for me than most, but like, they have to be right, at least for the most part. I think that if I saw Lea Parish in real life there’d be a minute where that was on my brain almost exclusively..

(I will say that I think I’d have more thoughts on ALPHA than that, because like, the idea of them is fishy at the very best, but it’d almost definitely be on my mind somewhere. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “What’s not to love anyway? Augur is the future. One day I’ll be living in my smart home, with my smartwatch and my A.I. assistant taking care of everything so I can live a carefree lids in the lap of luxury, and you’ll be grumpy and alone in your tinfoil hat scrounging for dinner in a dumpster. You’ll see.” End ID.] 

There is so much not to love about this. Dystopian image of a future, to me. I get why some stuff gets smart/automated (disability reasons mostly), but my whole home absolutely will not be.

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “In a simple sense, I don’t agree with any private entity holding as much power as Augur does. Yes - they are the very heart of technological progress, and I don’t begrudge progress by any means - but they also have a chokehold on energy, healthcare, housing… Even balancing their grip on ths country with charity work and initiatives to help people in need, it wouldn’t be a stretch to imagine they’re holding puppet strings in the government.” End ID.]

Seb is so real for this one, actually. I love his anti-corporate sentiments almost as much as I love everything else about him. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “[Sound: Footsteps walking away, stopping] North: Oh Seb? No, he’s really busy right now.] End ID.] 

People looking specifically for Sebastian are such great moments!! Especially because at this point it's not because of the podcast, you know? Like whoever this is just wanted to see or talk to him just to do so. The guy is so so good at endearing himself to people and it makes me sad that he doesn’t know that. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “Sebastian: I’ve been investigating some rumors about your ALPHA program? And about a street drug called Hunter that supposedly gives users temporary abilities like ALPHAs have? I found some leads, but it gave me more questions than answers, and I thought for clarity I could speak to… [Silence] You know what, never mind. Sorry to bother you. Angelo: Mr. Fen. Sebastian: Huh? Angelo: Take a seat.” End ID]. 

This will probably get its own post at some point because I have what those in the industry call thoughts about this. Like, okay, firstly the establishment of Seb as someone with all the audacity on this planet, who will go up to someone who is on their break and just ask to interview them is great. Then, Angelo just being willing to talk to this amateur reporter on said break, especially with what we know, also great. 

There are ideas about parallels floating vaguely in my brain that I’m excited to delve into. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that is all for this post!! I hope that you enjoyed this long post and dive into this episode, and that you stick around for the next one!! Enjoy your coffee, get some sleep, and remember that the veil touched are just people. 

[nightshiftpodcast]

THANK YOU FOR 100,000 DOWNLOADS!!!!

Season 2 is getting closer – here’s our Season 2 poster by the wonderful @beesandstarsart​ as a thank you for so many of you wonderful people listening to our little show!

If you have any theories based on the poster we’d love to hear them 👀 our ask box is always open!

Find Night Shift Season 1 in it’s entirety below or on any podcast platform (be sure to search the full name “Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama”!)

https://nightshiftpod.com

https://kite.link/night-shift

*Goes without saying but our artwork is never to be used for AI or NFT purposes

[fuckthisshitimin]

[ID: A four pages long comic depiction of the motel scene from the Night Shift Podcast, episode 12, in black and white.

The first page opens while Angelo is taking Sebastian’s blood. Sebastian is sat on an armchair, head bent back and eyes closed, looking uncomfortable. Angelo is kneeling before him, focused and face neutral as he asks “What makes you so sure it’s to do with me?”. We see a close-up of the needle, and Sebastian’s expression as it shifts to a more relaxed one, saying “You make me feel when I’m used to being numb”.

The second on starts with Angelo saying “All done”, and we see Sebastian from above as he puts pressure on the needle wound. The blood sample is secured in a plastic bag, and Sebastian crouches down, passing a hand through his hair. His smile is weary, he says “You know, I have no idea what you think of me.” We see Angelo finishing to put the sample away, face closed as in the background Seb is still talking: “I think you must like me.”

The third page first shows the two character’s faces: Angelo eyes closed and head bent up, frowning as to fight an emotion, and Sebastian, smiling a bit painfully, saying: “because you don’t seem like someone who would bother with a person they didn’t like. But I can’t wrap my head around why-”. Then, we see the entire scene, Sebastian looking between his knees and Angelo looking at him, flexing his hand as he moves towards him. “and you...” Sebastian goes, as Angelo passes by him to sit on the bed facing the armchair. “And I?”, Angelo prompts.

In the last page, we see Sebastian’s eyes as he looks up to Volta with determination. He leans a bit forward, neck twisting to face the other properly. Layer over the two of them sitting face to face are close-ups of their faces, expressions yearning and wistful. “If I came over there right now, and kissed you, would you let me?” Sebastian asks. Lastly, we see Angelo smiling, brows eye on his forehead, an evident tenderness to him when he says “Yes.”

Signed: Meaningless Mikhaïl. End ID.]

HERE IT IS!!!!!

Six days, seventeen pages of drafts and four final pages for thirty-seven seconds of audio. I am totally normal about this episode.

By the way this is how the scene ends, there is nothing after that, Sebastian stops recording and they kiss senseless.

Since the first fic I read of those was by @becaexists, I threw in a little Pride and Prejudice (2005) visual reference, as a treat.

[incohorace]

oh ok so he's. he's going to call the vast and mysterious corporation with questionable morals and just. just ask them. ok!

[green-eyes-and-orange-ties]

30 Days of Echor: Week 3 - Backdrops

A rainy bus stop in the Silk Meadows, the warehouse district

[ID: There's a bus stop lit in soft yellow light, with an Augur advert at the far end of the bus stop. A traffic light next to the bus stop is green and a cars red rear lights can be seen just beyond the traffic lights. The green traffic light and red car lights are reflecting off the water on the sidewalk.]

[green-eyes-and-orange-ties]

Lucky for us the NSP writers already threw Seb off a cliff so we don't have too 😌

being a fan of a character is sometimes “look at how complex he is. he’s so intricate and his story is so tragic and he’s so much more complicated than people give him credit for” and sometimes it’s like “haha look at this failure of a person. I wanna throw him off a cliff and see what happens”

[rhiannonsknife]

── I JUST WANNA BE A GOOD PASSENGER

— summary: sweetpea book 2&3 spoilers!! you work aboard the cruise ship rhiannon takes to flee the uk.

— warnings: implied canon typical violence. based on the third book. fem!reader. nsfw content. mdni.

the woman has been watching you for days.

you first noticed her during a busy afternoon in valencia, three days ago. the deck was packed with passengers, soaking in the sun and sipping overpriced cocktails. you were darting between tables, balancing trays and weaving through conversations in a dozen different languages when you felt it: an itch between your shoulder blades, a weight that told you someone was watching.

you glanced up and spotted her immediately: seated in the corner, a half-empty glass of something expensive in her hand, her head tilted slightly as if to study you. unable to help yourself, you held her gaze for a moment too long, long enough to see her lips curl into the faintest smile, sharp and knowing.

flustered, you ducked your head and focused on clearing plates, trying to shake the feeling that she’d seen right through you.

the next day, in mallorca, she was there again.

you were restocking the bar during the afternoon when you saw her sitting at the counter. she was sipping her drink slowly, her gaze fixed on you like she had nothing better to do. you’d felt heat creeping up your neck as she raised her glass in a silent acknowledgment.

by the time the ship reached marseille, her presence was impossible to ignore.

the stranger seemed to be everywhere: perched on a chair on the upper deck, strolling through the dining room during your shift, lingering at the bar long after most passengers had retired for the night. and always, always watching you.

at first, you chalked it up to curiosity.

passengers often watched the staff with a detached kind of interest, a casual pastime during their endless hours on deck. but this woman was different. her gaze wasn’t idle or distracted; it was sharp, focused, and unrelenting. it followed you as you moved through the room, as if she was waiting for something. something only you could give her.

now, as you work your shift in the lounge, you catch her watching you again.

she’s sitting in her usual corner, her glass held delicately between two fingers, her gaze fixed on you.

it doesn’t help that she’s beautiful. this exact woman -with hair that falls in flawless waves, a silk blouse pressed to an almost eerie sharpness, and an accent that would probably sound sexy if it wasn’t so obviously fake- has been looking at you like you’re the only thing in the room worth seeing.

it’s unnerving. and, if you’re being honest, a little thrilling.

“excuse me, could you bring me another drink?” she’d asked earlier, flashing you a too-wide smile that made your heart stutter in your chest.

you’d nodded and rushed to fulfill her request, grateful for the excuse to get away from her penetrating stare.

you can’t put your finger on why she unsettles you so much. perhaps it’s because she reminds you of someone. someone from a story on the news, or maybe from a true crime podcast you half-listened to on a rare day off…

the thought doesn’t fully take hold until later, when you’re wiping down a table and catch her watching you again. this time, she doesn’t even bother to look away when your eyes meet. she raises her glass in another mock toast and winks, as if to say, i see you, too.

that’s when it clicks.

rhiannon lewis.

you’d seen her face all over the news just days before boarding the ship: a story about a woman linked to a string of gruesome murders back in the UK.

but it couldn’t be her, could it? rhiannon lewis, whose name is still dominating all english speaking news channels on the cruise, wouldn’t be sipping cocktails on a luxury ship like she’s not the most wanted woman in england, would she? not with her face plastered all over international media.

and yet.

you can’t unsee the resemblance now. the sharpness of her cheekbones, the way she carries herself, and the unsettlingly fake australian accent she’s been using all night.

you tell yourself to let it go. she’s a guest, a passenger. it’s not your job to interrogate her about her past or her identity. you’re here to serve drinks, clean rooms, and, in a best case scenario, collect tips, not solve crime cases.

still, when your shift ends and you’re on your way back to your quarters, your steps falter outside her room. it’s a line you know you shouldn’t cross. using what you’ve picked up from cleaning service schedules to linger here is against every rule, spoken or unspoken.

your shift is over and the night is supposed to end with you back in your cabin, decompressing with a book or a podcast (or, truthfully, with your hand shoved between your thighs and the imaginary voice of a certain someone in your ear…).

your feet carried you here anyway, like on autopilot. like something inside you wanted to see where this might go.

before you can knock, if you would’ve found the courage to knock at all, the door opens.

she’s standing there in a silk robe, her hair loose and shimmering under the dim corridor light. her smile, that exact same, perfect curve of her lips grows wider when she sees you.

“well, well,” she purrs, her accent still awful. “fancy seeing you here. i wasn’t expecting room service at this hour…?”

“i wasn’t-“ you falter, words stumbling under her gaze. “i didn’t mean to-“

she knows. she obviously knows.

“didn’t mean to what?” she interrupts, tilting her head like she’s genuinely curious. “stand outside my door looking like a deer in headlights? or…” she steps aside, gesturing you inside with a slow wave of her hand. “were you planning to come in all along?”

you should leave. there are at least a hundred reasons for you turn around and walk away. rules about professionalism, the nagging suspicion in the back of your mind that this woman isn’t who she claims to be…still, your feet move forward.

she shuts the door behind you, the click of the lock oddly loud in the small space.

“you’ve been staring at me,” she says, leaning against the wall casually. it’s not a question either, she’s stating facts. “not very subtle, are you?”

“i wasn’t staring!” your protest sounds weak even to your own ears, and her smirk widens.

“oh, you absolutely were,” she says, her voice dropping an octave lower smoothly. “i’ve seen that look before, you know…?“

her words send a jolt through you. her accent, on purpose or not, has slipped back into the standard british you’re used to. you step back instinctively, only to find the edge of the bed pressing against the backs of your thighs.

the woman moves closer, closing the distance between you in an instant. “what’s your name?” she asks.

you hesitate, your mind scrambling for a reason to leave. but then her hand brushes against yours, just the ghost of a touch, and every coherent thought slips away from you.

“what’s yours?” you counter.

“hilary,” she says with a sheepish smile, the name rolling off her tongue like she doesn’t even believe it herself.

“hilary,” you repeat slowly. the way she watches your mouth when you say it makes your skin prickle.

in the light of her cabin, she looks even more like the woman from the news. the resemblance is striking to a point where you genuinely wonder if it’s physically possible to look so much like rhiannon lewis without being her.

her gaze remains on your lips shamelessly. when she leans in, your breath catches in your throat.

“you’re not supposed to be here,” she murmurs, her voice barely audible over the pounding of your heartbeat. you wonder if it would make a difference at all if she really was rhiannon.

“neither are you,” you reply, aiming for something. a confession, maybe, a sign that your suspicions are true. the words hang in the air between you like a challenge.

she smiles, pleased with your sudden boldness. if you’re challenging her, then she’s accepting.

her hand brushes your cheek, calloused fingers tracing a line down to your jaw, and you shiver under her touch.

“i think we’re going to get along just fine” she murmurs, the rasp in her voice even more prominent now that she’s no longer bothering to keep up the australian accent.

when her lips finally meet yours, it’s not tentative or unsure. it’s possessive, demanding, all tongue and teeth, and you’re helpless to do anything but kiss her back.

her hands fall to your waist, urging you closer by your uniform, which suddenly seems too itchy and tight. too restricting. you don’t resist until her body is flush against yours. and even then, the world outside this room ceases to exist. the ocean that’s gently swaying the ship, the rules and etiquette about staff and passengers, even the unsettling familiarity of her face: all of it fades into the background.

you gasp into the woman’s mouth, which she uses as her opportunity to deepen the kiss and lick past your lips.

when your back hits the edge of the bed, she presses you down onto the mattress. the silk robe she's wearing parts slightly, brushing against your bare skin, the sensation sending a shiver down your spine.

her weight settles over you, not crushing, but deliberate, and her hands are everywhere: tracing the curve of your waist, sliding up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. every touch is calculated, purposeful, and it sets your nerves alight in ways you didn't expect.

"hilary," you murmur, the name foreign and clunky on your tongue, as if it doesn’t quite suit her. you can’t put a finger to it.

she pauses, her lips hovering just above yours, and for a moment you think you've said something wrong. then she smirks. "not thinking of backing out now, are you?"

you immediately shake your head, unable to form proper sentences. she takes that as permission, leaning down to kiss you again, slower this time. her lips move against yours with a practiced ease, like she's done this a hundred times before.

simultaneously, her hands slide under your shirt, fingers grazing the bare skin of your stomach, and you shudder at the coldness of her touch. but then something makes you hesitate-something subtle but impossible to ignore:

as her hands move higher, you notice the slight swell just above her hips, the faintest curve that doesn't quite match the rest of her frame. it's soft, tender in a way that feels out of place with the sharpness of her movements, and when your fingers brush her there, she freezes.

her eyes snap up to meet yours, and for just a heartbeat, the confidence she's been exuding all night falters.

"is that-" you start, but she cuts you off with another kiss, more desperate this time, as if she could silence the question before it fully forms.

you don't push it, though your mind is racing. the swell beneath your hand feels fresh, like the aftermath of something recent, and the pieces start clicking together in your head. the halfhearted accent. the overly polished mannerisms. the way her eyes dart around the room like she's always on edge. and now this.

rhiannon lewis, so you’ve heard, left a newborn behind.

you don't pull away. instead, you soften your touch, letting your hands rest against her sides in a way that feels less curious and more grounding.

she notices the change, her body relaxing slightly, and when she pulls back to look at you, there's something vulnerable in her eyes that wasn't there before.

"don’t," she whispers, her voice barely audible. "don’t look at me like that”

"like what?"

"like you know me at all,” her gaze hardens again, the mask slipping back into place.

you hesitate for a moment, searching her face for something, anything, that might tell you what to do next. but all you see is the same hunger, the same desperation that's been driving her from the start.

so you kiss her again. not because you've forgotten the truth, but because -for some reason you can't explain- it doesn't matter.

her hands are on you again, tugging at your clothes with a kind of urgency that makes your head spin.

when she finally pulls away, her breathing ragged and her lips swollen, she looks at you expectantly. with nowhere to be and the urge to feel more of her, your fingers reach for the robe she’s wearing. it’s doing a terrible job of hiding anything at all anyway. you might not have given yourself permission to blatantly stare before, but now that she -rhiannon, hilary, whoever this stranger may be- is on top of you, there’s no stopping your wandering hands and eyes.

you don’t need to push the fabric off of her to see the outline of her full breasts, her hardened nipples or the fact that she’s only wearing a pair of panties underneath. you do it anyway, satisfied with the shiver that runs down her spine as her bare skin is revealed to you.

she is beautiful. even more so, now that there’s nothing restricting your view anymore. you can look right at her; at the swell of her chest and the marks on her belly that you can’t help but trace with the tips of your fingers. above you, she gasps breathlessly and your eyes instantly dart in her direction, just to find that she’s watching you already, lips parted, eyes hooded as your hand trails upwards.

you don’t falter, looking right at her the first time you touch her, fingers gently squeezing one nipple between them until she starts rocking her hips against you.

moving lower once you’re satisfied with how hard it’s grown to the touch, you whisper: “can i..?”

the woman, who must’ve been on the verge of getting lost in the sensation of your stimulation, looks down at you momentarily. then, her palm pushes you back into the mattress. you bounce on it with the force of her push but hilary rhiannon doesn’t give you any time to catch up. instead, she shifts her weight to her knees and brings one hand to the headboard above you.

“i’ll sit on your face” she says, stating it like it’s a fact. “can you use that pretty mouth of yours?”

mere minutes later, and your find yourself in that exact position.

your fingers are digging into the soft flesh of hilary’s rhiannon’s thighs, your tongue lapping up the arousal that’s dripping from her cunt, down her thighs, and all over your face.

even from this angle and the little you can see, she looks beautiful: her bangs are clinging to the sweat on her forehead, her brows furrowed in pleasure and her lips parted.

you don’t mind the weight resting upon your face. if anything, you enjoy the pressure of her knees on either side of your face, the way she drags her wetness across it until your nose is nestled against her clit and your tongue is buried deep inside her.

you must be covered in her, at this rate, your whole face glistening with her arousal. you can feel it in the way her skin slides against it, taste it all over your mouth.

hilary rhiannon is throbbing, against and around you, dripping more with each pulse of her cunt.

“fucking god-“ she moans from above, wrecked with the pleasure you’re providing. you wonder how long it’s been since somebody has touched her, fucked her like this.

rhiannon’s legs are trembling around your head, knees pushing deeper into the sheets.

with the little that remains of your professionalism, you're aware that she's being too loud for the thin walls of the cruise. and while you know she shouldn't be drawing any unwanted attention to herself, you can't bring yourself to hush her. you don't care when her fingers yank you closer, deeper into her. you don't care when a satisfied sigh escapes her as your tongue delves further.

“right there” she whispers and your eyes catch the way rhiannon’s head falls back, though it’s hard make out the words over the obscene slurping noises from licking broad strokes through her pussy. “oh, fuck, yeah right there!”

she feels so good on top of you, you wonder if you could cum from nothing but your desperate attempts to rock your hips up into the nothingness between them and your body aches with the need to get yourself off. you don’t even have to check for yourself to feel the slick wetness that’s smearing across your own thighs.

rhiannon’s fist tightens in your hair, cradling you by the back of your head. you let her, gladly welcoming the way she maneuvers your lips until they’re exactly where she needs them, latching onto her clit.

“you wanna make me cum?” she coos.

you do, regardless of how badly you need to feel her touch too. rhiannon braces herself against the headboard, her upper body slumping forward so she’s looking right at you.

“mhm” you manage, involuntarily grinding against her, the shift making her bounce ever so slightly.

“oh that’s it!” rhiannon exhales in response, her lashes fluttering. you reach up, one hand daring to hold her hip as she begins to pick up the pace until she’s no longer sitting, but riding on your face.

“that’s it, you’re gonna make me cum!” she cries out between some incoherent words and soft moans.

naturally, you double your efforts, making sure you apply extra pressure against her clit where she’s rutting against your nose as you bury your tongue deep inside her hole all over again. that’s where she seems to like it the most, getting the loudest whenever you enter her.

the first thing you notice as rhiannon cums is the way she tenses. her muscles flex, closing in around your head, and tremble with the sudden tension. her back straightens too and even her jaw locks as she moves. with the last strength left in her, she rocks herself against your face to completion.

then, there’s the way her walls flutter around your tongue, the way her fingers tangle themselves up in the mess she’s made of your hair, the way her lips part in a silent scream before it all comes crashing down on her.

rhiannon’s whole weight collapses on top of you, her cunt throbbing the entire time that it takes for her to catch her breath.

you don’t take her for the cuddling type until she drapes her arms underneath your back and snuggles her face into the crook of your neck, breathing in deeply.

you wonder if she can smell herself there, now that she’s all over your face, or if it’s your scent she is inhaling. either way, you let her and slowly put your own arms around her.

it isn’t until rhiannon’s deep breaths have turned into shaky gasps and the bed gently creaks under the shift of her weight that you notice that she’s grinding against your thigh.

slowly, you lift your head from the mattress, catching a glimpse of closed eyes and parted lips.

“do you-“

“sh,” she harshly cuts you off. then, she blinks one eye open, looking the closest to apologetic you’ve eber seen her -which, truthfully, isn’t all that much.

“just…” rhiannon puts a hand down on your shoulder. “just stay there and…” whatever she was going to say morphs into a soft moan as she drags her center over the length of your thigh.

you can do that for her, you decide, but not without being just a little bit selfish in the process: rhiannon’s legs have fallen open around yours. with the slightest shift of your hips, so insignificant she doesn’t seem to notice, you’re pressed right against her thigh as well. you don’t even have to move, with rhiannon now steadily grinding, pressing herself further into you with every roll of her hips.

involuntarily, you whine and throw your head back into the pillows as she rocks against you.

you knew you were turned on before, but completely oblivious to how close you’ve gotten from her riding your face. now, with your clit rubbing against rhiannon’s skin through your underwear, you become painfully aware of it.

her lips trace your jaw, pressing against it before closing around the tender flesh and sucking.

how long would it take for her to draw blood like this? would she like to see you bleed for her? for your skin to bloom with reds and purples that her mouth left in its wake?

you don’t get a chance to find out, because rhiannon drops her forehead against your shoulder instead, grinding back and forth desperately.

“fuck,” you whine, unable to hold back. “fuck, fuck, fuck!”

rhiannon hushes you again, this time with a kiss. she must taste herself in your mouth because she eagerly licks past your lips for more.

it’s all too much to take; the flexed muscle of her leg against your clit, rhiannon’s spit mixing with the remains of her arousal on your tongue, the little noises she lets out with every roll of her hips.

at a particular good motion of her hips, you can’t help yourself anymore: you feel your abdomen coiling in pleasure suddenly, a ragged “rhiannon!” coming from your mouth as your soaked cunt contracts around nothing.

your fingers reach around her back, nails digging into her skin when you release through your underwear and all over her thigh.

whether it’s the sound of her name or the feeling of your orgasm beneath herself, rhiannon follows shortly after, cumming with a soft cry.

as she recovers from the second orgasm and you struggle to catch your breath, rhiannon stays on your chest.

she doesn’t ask you about the name. in return, you don’t ask for her real identity. whoever she is, you’re sure this is a thing that should remain unspoken.

“that was…” you finally manage, trailing off. your eyes are already scanning the space for the clothes you’ve shed. if you don’t pick them up soon, your uniform will get all wrinkled for the next shift.

“you’re not staying?” she asks, catching you off guard.

“i should be working,” you remind her, trying to move.

she kisses you again, holding on tightly. the first flight of panic you feel vanishes in an instant when you ask: “what is it?” and rhiannon responds: “hug.”

“i have to go,” you chuckle. you’ve already broken the rules by sleeping with a passenger. you can’t afford to fall in love with one, especially not her.

“i know, i know,” she mutters. “just for a bit. please?”

so you do, lying with her until her hold on you releases. you’re still the first to pull away.

“see you,” you can’t help but tell her once you’re dressed again.

“will you?”

“i clean your room once a day,” you say, smiling despite yourself. “i’m bound to!”

— a/n: i‘ve been waiting since november just so i could post this on january 8th 😭😭 (also i couldn’t find a good rhiannon picture for the header, but that one is so book-3-rhiannon-coded)

context: (massive spoiler warning!): in book 2, rhiannon gets caught and is forced to flee the country for a new identity. during the book, she’s pregnant with aj’s baby but decides to leave her daughter behind so she can continue killing. on the cruise, she pretends to be an australian woman called hilary.

[velvetjune]

Alan Wake 2 Lake House DLC spoilers/review (also spoilers for Control):

Had a lot of fun with this DLC! It’s short (unfortunately expected this), but sweet, although I wish I didn’t watch the trailer for it. It would’ve been amazing experiencing this with no knowledge. As a massive Control fan, I was practically thriving off of all the reading and FBC style. I have some sympathy for fans of Alan Wake who might hate Control, but these games are far more than a crossover by now and moving forward. I can see how this wouldn’t work for people who dislike that.

Personally, Remedy has done well at connecting their stories without it clashing! The AWE dlc for Control was a mixed bag for me, mostly because the story wasn’t really there and the darkness mechanics were bland. This could be because I’m very biased towards Control, but this was a great example of how to merge the settings and traits of both games in an interesting way.

The marital and mad scientist drama was terrible in the best way. I was dying every time one of the Marmonts was “hmmm Wake says we’re going to die horrifically and become monsters, but im personally better than that.”

DR DARLING… <3 He should’ve had more appearances </3

After all the deserved hate directed at AI and producing content rather than art, it was heartwarming to see promotion for Poe. I don’t know the details, but she’s barely been able to release music over the last 20 years (some songs here and there), so having an entire area dedicated to her with links to a (fingers crossed) site about an upcoming Poe project was lovely. Lots of love put towards artists in this.

Ed being there was and thinking he was in an immersive experience was incredibly funny. I’d have to look it up, but was the manuscript page in his room detailing when he was taken HERE and not him dying to taken? Was this DLC happening during the start of aw2 or right before?

I’m in love with Kiran Estevez. She can be judgmental and tries to maintain a level of calm over the situation, but her disgust, fear, humor all shine through in funny ways. Hope that she, along with at least Saga, get to be in Control 2.

Only found this out after checking Reddit (which imo is too harsh over both Night Springs and this DLC), but apparently the Dylan part is skippable. It was SUCH a highlight of this DLC. The shifting environments, the Not-Oldest House, Dylan in the “panopticon” post-Control, etc. was surreal and captivating. Usually with set ups teasers, I don’t particularly care (e.g. the AWE dlc ending was alright!), but man. The way to get it was perfectly strange. Poor Dylan. Just like Control’s “hidden” ending cutscene, this really seems to put Control 2 in the wider NYC.

Having a “person who’s only seen Boss Baby” moment: thought of tma (the podcast) with the tapes, archives, panopticon, all the weird shit. It didn’t influence this game, but I was getting flashbacks to when I listened to it (stopped caring for it, but the first few seasons were fun in a creepypasta way)

I liked the calendar puzzles. I’m not a huge fan of puzzles in games, but these were easy enough to follow without dragging on. however I did spend five minutes confused just because I got Friday and Saturday mixed up :(

The boss fight was easy in story mode lol

Diana brutally killing the taken Jules was one of the only “gross” moments of Remedy’s games and it was great! It’s not much gore, but I’ll take it.

I accidentally pressed the option to instantly destroy (?) the painting :( So im so sorry to Rudolph and I’ll be replaying this dlc soon to see what the other option is.

For my problems, I was sad that the paint monsters were mainly annoying to run from (also they’re cute). I don’t know if it was an issue on my end or a bug, but even once I went to story mode, I still wasn’t finding healing objects until the last fight. The reason I switched to story was only because my low-ish health kept instant killing me by the Painted 😭 Maybe it’s because I haven’t replayed Alan Wake in a while, but this DLC was wildly difficult. If Remedy didn’t add a whole list of assists, I’d be more frustrated, but thankfully it’s there. The map also would keep question marks and loot up even when I interacted.

I prefer the Night Springs DLC, but this was a great look into Estevez, Control, and what art is. Now, Alan Wake 2 is officially done!

[viktorpartner]

CANARIES, NIGHT SHIFT AND THE MAGNUS PROTOCOL (tma/tmagp/arg spoilers)

Along with everyone else in the fandom, I'm also going FERAL after these new ep so excuse this RANT (this is my way of coping with the brain worms, enjoy ;).

Statement begins.

So what's special about the RedCanary story?

Well, apart from it being a direct reference to the original Magnus Institute (at least the one in this new universe), it's also incredibly fascinating as a narrative tool.

For those who are unaware of their history, miners used to employ canaries in cages while they worked as safety systems. The bird's complexion made them specially sensible to gas leaks which killed them instantly. When a canary stoped singing in the middle of the shift, the workers knew that toxic gas was leaking and had enough time to get out of the mines alive before it got to them.

Now why is that relavant to us? Well, the theme of canaries in cages inside mines could be easily applied to the og tma characters. All of them were contained in cages (that is the Magnus Institute) and placed close enough to danger (in their case the paranormal) that only they were aware of its existence while the rest of humanity remained ignorant. That is until the events of the apocalypse when the gas metaphorically leaks everywhere and all humanity is doomed.

However, this proximity to the fears ALWAYS results in the death of the canaries that stayed inside the mines (no i will never get over my blorbos being killed). Everyone involved with the institution dies EXCEPT from Melanie, Georgie and Basira. That is, the only three canaries that actively escaped their cages before the toxic gas got to them.

Therefore, the use of this metaphor at the start of the ep (especially from none other than the voice of Jon Sims, the character who has walked down the path of learning about the entities) is a warning to Sam against investigating the paranormal.

The statement is encountered by Sam because he, above all other characters, is the one who is most likely to end up like Jon and the others. The species of Red Canaries is human breed, therefore Sam being a result of experimentation within The Magnus Institute means he was RAISED to be a canary. Thus, there is an inherent irony on the warning, for it is what PUSHES him to develop an interest on the statements and leads him closer to his tragic destiny.

Another proof that links canaries and the workers at O.I.A.R. is the nature of their habitat. I haven't seen a lot of people talking about it, but there are multiple references in the first and second ep of them working the nightshift. Now, why would a filing job be carried out exclusively at night? (THERE ARE SO MANY REFERENCES TO IT BEING A NIGHTSHIFT I AM NOT KIDDING)

This one is specially interesting because it's the first thing we hear in the podcast. Also Teddy metaphorically being the canary that leaves the mines and the darkness to escape into the outside world and the sun.

Multiple references to it being just the FIRST night of an eternity of nights. (cosmic horror much?)

In any case, there is a parallel between darkness of night and the darkness inside the mines. (or even the entity of the dark, one of the oldest alongside the hunt and the end). I see what you're doing Jonny Sims....

SO YEAH IN CONCLUSION

canaries = characters close to danger (AWARE OF THE ENTITIES)

the miners = the rest of humanity (UNAWARE OF THE ENTITIES)

cages = The Magnus institute/O.I.A.R (TRAPS the canaries)

the fears = toxic gas (HARMS the canaries and miners)

darkness in the mines = the night shift

Statement ends.

*stands in front of a white board with red string linking everything, and the dark scribbled in black marker in the center* I HOPED YOU ENJOYED THIS RANT *tries to fix my disheveled hair that i messed up during the presentation* I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT TMA AND TMAGP Please feel free to discuss in the comments, I NEED THEORIES, I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS WITH SOMEONE!!!

[iameriwa]

Imani’s Story: From Broken to Whole

Imani was tired. Not the kind of tiredness a nap could fix, but the bone-deep exhaustion that comes from constantly fighting battles no one else could see. On the outside, her life looked picture-perfect—a degree from a prestigious university, a decent job, and an Instagram-worthy apartment. But inside? Inside, she was unravelling. Anxiety gripped her daily, whispering lies that she wasn’t enough. Depression dragged her into a pit so deep she wasn’t sure she’d ever climb out.

And if we’re being real? Imani didn’t know how to stop the spiral. She’d tried all the things—self-help books, podcasts, yoga classes, even therapy. They helped for a moment, like slapping a plaster on a wound that needed stitches. But the pain was still there, buried under her perfectionism and the constant need to be everything for everyone else.

One night, after yet another failed attempt to hold it together, Imani hit her breaking point. Alone in her spotless apartment, she sat on the floor, knees to her chest, and finally let herself cry. Ugly cry. The kind where you can’t breathe, and the tears feel endless. Through her sobs, she whispered something she hadn’t said in years:

“God, if You’re real… help me.”

That was the moment everything started to shift. Not in some big, dramatic way. There were no flashing lights or angelic choirs. Just a quiet feeling, like someone had taken the edge off her pain. A whisper in her heart: “I’ve got you.”

The next day, Imani did something she hadn’t done in a long time. She opened the Bible her mum gave her when she was a teenager. Flipping through the pages, she landed on Matthew 11:28: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”

Rest. That’s what she wanted more than anything. And for the first time, Imani stopped trying to do it all on her own. She didn’t have a grand plan. She just prayed a simple, desperate prayer: “God, I don’t know how to fix this, but I’m giving it to You.”

Letting go wasn’t easy. Imani had spent years micromanaging every detail of her life, convinced that if she didn’t stay in control, everything would fall apart. But as she began to surrender—little by little—she noticed something incredible: she wasn’t falling apart. In fact, she was finally starting to feel whole.

The anxiety that used to rule her days began to loosen its grip. She’d still feel it sometimes, creeping in at the edges, but now she had something stronger to hold onto. She’d close her eyes, take a deep breath, and remember God’s promise: “Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)

Imani started seeing life differently. She let herself leave the dishes in the sink. She stopped apologising for saying no to things that drained her. And when she messed up—which, spoiler alert, she still did—she didn’t spiral into shame. Instead, she’d remind herself: “God’s grace is bigger than my mistakes.”

The biggest change came in how Imani saw herself. She used to believe her worth was tied to her achievements, her image, or how well she could meet everyone else’s expectations. But through prayer, worship, and digging into Scripture, she discovered something wild: God loved her just as she was. Not for what she did or how perfect she tried to be, but because she was His.

Do you know how freeing that is? To realise you don’t have to earn love? That you don’t have to have it all together to be worthy?

Imani began to trust that God wasn’t just real—He was good. He was the kind of good that heals wounds you’ve hidden for years. The kind of good that takes your broken pieces and makes something beautiful. The type of good shows up in both the miracles and the mundane.

Her life didn’t suddenly become easy. There were still hard days, still moments when she felt the pull of her old fears. But now, Imani faced those moments with hope. She had seen what God could do with faith as small as a mustard seed, and she clung to that promise: “If God is for me, who can be against me?” (Romans 8:31)

Imani’s story isn’t about perfection. It’s about redemption. It’s about a woman who gave up trying to control everything and found freedom in the One who already holds it all.

God didn’t just restore Imani; He gave her a joy she couldn’t have imagined. She stopped fearing the unknown and started trusting in His plan. She even stopped fearing death, knowing it would mean meeting the One who had carried her through it all.

If you’re reading this and feeling a little like Imani—tired, lost, wondering if God could really love someone like you—know this: He does. Unconditionally.

You don’t have to have it all figured out. You don’t have to clean yourself up first. Just come to Him. Lay it all down. He’s been waiting for you, and He’s ready to show you just how good He, El Shaddai (God Almighty) is.

Try Him. See for yourself. Imani did, and she’ll tell you it was her best decision ever.

The name Imani is of Swahili origin and means "Faith" or "Belief." It is commonly used in East African cultures and among people of African descent worldwide, symbolising trust, conviction, and spirituality.

The name reflects a sense of strength and resilience, often tied to a deep belief in oneself, others, or a higher power - Olódùmarè [Supreme Creator or God, the source of all energy and existence] Amin 💛

Author @iameriwa

Photography: @_phanoo

Model: @adiza_ba

MUA: @kybeauuty

[veil-touched-rights-org]

Hello again! Welcome to part 2 of the series in which I look back at Night Shift episodes and highlight moments that stand out to me both in a look back and that made me stop then. (Part 1 can be found here: Night Shift Lookback Ep. 1). Again, this will be very long, as it covers an entire episode (the second one this time) and will have tagged spoilers, and this series is tagged both for that and as “the veil opens”. 

The transcripts are pulled from the Night Shift Web Site: (https://www.nightshiftpod.com/). 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “Content warnings: murder, body horror, mutation, discussion of in-world prejudices, allusions to depression and disease.” End ID]. 

As these are the content warnings for this episode, they are also applicable here - I’ll also be tagging this appropriately, but I thought a warning up front would be nice. 

Enjoy this look back!

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “Sebastian: Welcome back to the Night Shift podcast. Before we get into this week’s investigation, I want to thank Nocturne Studios right here in Echor City for seeing potential in my show and offering to support the production. And, I want to thank all of you, for giving these stories a chance.” End ID.] 

Look, I’m aware that the reason this episode blew up and got Sebastian a studio backer and such is probably the surprise Volta interview, but I choose to believe that it's just because he’s a very charming and funny guy, and everyone fell in love with him as quickly as I did.

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama that reads: "preternatural". End ID.]

Hello again to my favorite word <3

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama that reads: “Sebastian: I’m speaking with one of the coffee shop regulars. We’ll call him Quin. It’s a little - a lot, surprising that he’s actually initiating a conversation. Don’t get me wrong, Quin’s a polite guy, he’ll respond if you talk to him. But honestly, if he had his way, he’d come in like he does every Friday, sit at his usual table, and not talk to anyone. I think North is the only person to ever successfully hold a conversation with this guy, until now.” End ID.] 

Introducing Quin in this episode, and with the things that he goes on to say about the veil touched and how one can come to fear and be uncomfortable in their own body was such a smart move. It sets up a lot about his character in such an amazing way. Like, it goes to show where he is when we first meet him (and where he’s been before that) and how far he ends up growing as time passes). 

Not only do we get that he’s trying to largely pass under the radar, we get that he is a person uncomfortable with who he is, and who despite both of those things is a regular (and therefore recognizable) at a coffee shop, and willing to give an interview about the thing that drove him to this point. With that, his later willingness to start “not a revolution”/safe haven for the veil touched makes so much sense and has a clear origin point. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “[Cut to coffee shop] Justin: It’s contagious as hell. If you come into contact with a Shade, you’re gonna get Veil sick. Or worse, you’ll turn too.” End ID.] 

Okay, so a few things - #1, this is a show of the kind of bigotry that I think is the most common - like the person won’t outright discriminate against them, or say anything to them, but the bigoted thoughts are still there, and the idea of being one them is terrifying to you. And using Justin (who very much strikes me as an “everyman”) to have this was a smart idea. 

#2, I get that Seb needs to protect Styx and what he knows about Styx (and really I could have used a few places for this) but the fact that he never stands up for the veil-touched here sort of bewilders me. Mostly because later he very much does, almost to his own danger. Like, I assume here he just isn’t sure how much he can say without drawing suspicion, or maybe is still trying for an objective journalist vibe, but it’s so unlike later Sebastian that its almost whiplash inducing looking back. (It's also a little upsetting to see him not stand up for his friend, despite seeing what he does later tells me that he has reasons.) 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “He was… not as bad as I expected. Pretty standoffish, like every second of his time was more precious than a year of my life could ever be. I won’t stretch to say I like the guy, but I’ll consider retracting my statement that he’s the devil… maybe.” End ID.] 

Does their relationship count as like, one-sided rivals to lovers? Sebastian starting with like, “this man is the worst” and going into “he’s fine, I guess” and finally landing on “oh shit, I’m desperately in love with him”. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “But looking good does not justify someone’s actions. He might not have held me down and forced experimental science on me at the table, but the verdict is still out on whether there’s a soul behind that self-satisfied, strategic smile.” End ID.] 

Sebastian being like “some people call him doctor sexy, and those people are right. But he’s still an asshole. A sexy asshole though”. It’s so good for him. 

The guy also gets so caught up on the idea of being experimented on, and I suspect that it has something to do with things we haven’t discovered yet about his childhood (possibly even his time in the Harmony House?). Because this comes out a number of times and while I think the fact that it later happens is rich irony, and a good source of conflict, I can’t help but feel like something else is also being set up that we’ll discover later. Especially because while we have such small amounts of knowledge about the Harmony House, what we do know actually sets up some of that as a possibility. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “His dogs are great, though. Apollo and Zeus, they’re both dobermans, and they’re trained enough to respond to the tap of his foot. Not very professional of me, but I did beg to pet them. They’re perfect.” End ID]

Zeus and Apollo <3 I love dogs, and in fact also have a dog named after Apollo, so this is always a fun thing to stop on. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “Sebastian: I’m speaking with Dr. Felix Feldman, at South Point Psychiatrics. I’ve known him for more than 10 years. If there’s anyone who can shed some light on the science behind psychosis, it’s Feldman.” End ID.]

So, I think it's important to critique the things you love, and to recognize that they aren’t perfect, and this is the first place where I sit with a critique I noticed on my first listen through. So, psychosis is actually not what leads to antisocial traits (at least not innately - like any other condition it varies, you know?). From what I’ve read and researched and heard from people who experience psychosis, it's essentially delusions of various sorts (this can mean hallucinations, or other forms of delusion). I don’t think this was a deliberate thing, especially because they’ve seemingly written Sebastian as someone who may be experiencing some amount of psychosis himself, but it was definitely off-putting here. 

Additionally, there’s a sort of thing in media where people write personality disorders - and especially Cluster B personality disorders (such as antisocial personality disorder) as evil and harmful, and again while I didn’t outright get that here, it was still alluded to enough that I wasn’t comfortable leaving it completely unaddressed as I went through this episode. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads “North: Before Delaney had mutated! Sebastian: Exactly. Doesn’t that strike you as kind of weird? North: Definitely… but I mean… we don’t know how any of it works, like you said. End ID.]

I love how this started as “Here’s why there’s stigma” and quickly escalated to “okay, so I think he was framed” 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “Sebastian: (to recorder) I might not understand the science, but I know someone who will. [Sound: outgoing FaceTime call] Sebastian: Thank you for agreeing to speak to me again, Dr. Volta.” End ID.]

The fact that after Seb mentioned Volta he was just like “here have my personal phone number” is so funny to me. Like, I understand why considering it was his formula and stuff, but Sebastian didn’t know that - he just knew that he got this guy’s number after one conversation.

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “Sebastian: If you don’t mind, I have a question on a different subject? Angelo: (displeased) Am I being recorded right now? I’m not your personal encyclopedia, Mr. Fen. Sebastian: I know, sorry. I’m not going to press you for answers again. I just wanted a professional opinion on something, to go with cell mutation? I don’t know who else to ask. Angelo: Make it quick. End ID.]

Even funnier than Angelo just giving Sebastian his number is him being willing to answer unrelated questions. He might complain about it, but those questions will be answered. I don’t know if it the ever-present charm of Sebastian Fen, or just that he likes being complimented, but this scene speaks to something in the way they interact with each other, even from the start. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: Angelo: It’s a small department. Most of them are just…Rift Chasers. End ID.]

I know more than one person who would do this. Like, storm chasing is a whole thing, and it really is in my area, so I can’t help but imagine the amateur storm chasers I know doing this as well. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “Sebastian: The thing is, we have to accept that Shades are out there. Fear is only going to cause a greater divide between us and these people who are, at the basest level, just affected by a condition we don’t understand. The lack of research into Shades has to change if we’re going to learn how to co-exist. So the next time you see or hear about a Shade, stop and think to yourself for a second: if it were me, how would I want to be treated?” End ID.]

Okay Seb, I appreciate the effort here, and based on what we know about this world it’s probably at the stage where this is needed, but I can’t help but think of an after-school special when I hear this. 

[Image ID: A portion of a Night Shift: An Urban Fantasy Audio Drama transcript that reads: “(quietly) Not now… (nervous laugh) hold it together… [Sound: shuffling around, opening cupboard, pill bottle] (quietly I’m not paying you any attention. End ID.]

This is what I was saying about the whole “Seb seems to have psychosis here” thing. There is a possibility that this has more to do with how he also seems to open the veil whenever he gets stressed - like a connection to the veil & what is inside of it, but even if that is the case, the way it presents and is treated is very much like a psychosis. (Which I actually love! We need more psychotic characters, it’s an underrepresented and over-stigmatized group!)

That’s all for episode two!! Hope y’all enjoyed this run down! If you have thoughts feel free to share :) Have a great one :D 

[nightshiftpodcast]

What other jobs did Seb do before becoming a barista? I think I vaguely remember him being in some kind of tech field being mentioned (but then again I have brain fog so not sure if that's correct lol), is there anything else he did? And speaking of jobs, has Angelo been at Augur for the entirety of his career or did he also work somewhere else?

Angelo, smart as he is, graduated university as a young teenager and as Hastings points out in episode 10, has been working for Augur since his teens too...

Seb does mention having been in a tech field in episode 16! His full resume is written up in our Coffee Shop bonus book but I'll share it below!

(if you like extra lore like this, the full book is available with all the others on our merch store here, and at a discount as an add-on to any tier on our S2 crowdfund which has just under a week to go!)

[incohorace]

oooh so he's not just obsessed with augur corp – he's obsessed with volta too. i wonder if it's just fascination or if they have history? either way is fascinating but the resentment with which volta's name is always spoken has not been lost on me lmao

[green-eyes-and-orange-ties]

@/ Nightshiftpodcast do not get enough credit for all the times we hear Seb being happy. It occurs to me every time I've written him he's been half asleep or half concious (tbf I think a bit of that is me not wanting to puppet him but still).

I'm thinking of attempting something new next Lemon Boys chapter, but it might take awhile so have a sneak peak ...

Sebastian took a deep drag and held it. Smoke-filled, his lungs natural state. They should never have emptied after Harmony.