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burningvelvet · 2 years ago

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Back at the Villa Diodati… (the poll game continues!)

After seeking shelter in the middle of a storm at Lake Geneva, you find yourself in the infamous Villa Diodati for the very first time. You’ve heard all the rumours about what goes on in this place late at night—orgies, opium, rituals, poetry, sodomy, the usual—but is any of it really true? You’ve been warmly welcomed by Lord Byron’s valet, Fletcher, who took your wet coat and helped you settle in, introducing you to all the residents. After some length of conversation, you find they don’t seem that bad at all. Now you’re in the parlor sitting next to Mary Godwin-Wollstonecraft, the daughter of two of England’s most radical writers, who helps you warm up by the fire.

MARY: “If you’re the frightful type then you’ve come at the perfect time. We’ve been quite lively tonight over a book of ghost stories called Fantasmagoriana, and the last story just ended before you came.“

Y/N: “I regret missing it—but I was battling something of a terror myself. The wind outside is ghastly! I can see why you’ve chosen a night like tonight for such an occasion.”

MARY: “Oh, indeed—but we do recite stories quite often, and prefer the strange ones. We are all literary people ourselves. Do you do much reading or writing?”

Y/N: “Yes, but not as often as I’d like to do.”

MARY: “I concur—I am hoping to have more opportunity now that my boy William and his nursemaid are away, though I do miss him.”

Mary guides you back to the others, sitting on one of the sofas next to Mary’s strange—husband? lover?—Mr. Shelley. Beside him is Byron’s surprisingly young doctor, Polidori. Across from you on the other sofa, Mary’s—sister? step-sister?—Miss Clairmont sits smiling with a glass, and the famous Lord Byron lounges beside her with a leg thrown over the side of the couch. He leafs through a book before putting it down and pouring himself some more wine. He pours another glass and hands it to you.

BYRON: “Here, this should restore your spirits. It is the finest wine this side of the Alps.”

The wine is a dark red, like blood, but sweet and rich. You thank him for his hospitality.

BYRON: “I can assure you it is my pleasure. Strangers fascinate me! And how fitting it is for us to take in a mysterious stranger on such a dark and stormy night. You aren’t some apparition are you? The last story we read was about a ghost who seduced a man…”

CLAIRE: “Y/N is quite real—I can tell because I am actually of the dead myself. Or at least it often feels as such. I think I have died of love.”

Claire gleams at Byron. Byron ignores Claire and addresses you.

BYRON: “I overhear that you’re something of a writer yourself! In that case, you shall feel at home here. We are all a bit mad—the art preserves our wits.”

POLIDORI: “But as a warning, some of us are quite a bit more mad than others.”

Shelley glares at the doctor. Byron only gives a breezy laugh.

BYRON: “Oh, Polly Dolly, speak not of yourself. It bores us all to death. And you’ll frighten off our dear guest!”

Polidori pours himself another glass. Claire glances somewhat speculatively from Byron, to you, and then back to Byron. The latter jumps from the sofa with a sudden gaiety.

BYRON: “I’ve just been struck with the most brilliant notion, as if granted by some celestial being which I know poor Shelley doesn’t believe in.”

Shelley opens his mouth to speak but Byron continues.

BYRON: “We will each write a ghost story! What better way to entertain our new guest, and cure this incessant boredom of ours—“

POLIDORI: “You mean yours—“

BYRON: “—than to attempt to frighten each other to death! What fun! The person with the most horrifying story wins—and by horrifying,” he faces Polidori, “I mean in subject matter, not in quality of prose.”

You turn to whisper to Mary,

Y/N: “Do they do this all the time?”

MARY: “Oh, yes—I can tell you much more about all that later, if you can bear to hear it.”

BYRON: “Now, for those of you who are brave enough to accept this challenge… we shall begin!”

Claire and Polidori begin setting aside parchment and pens. Mary and Percy eagerly discuss their ideas. Byron saunters over to you.

BYRON: “Will you care to put your writing prowess to the test by joining us? I would love to see some of your writing, but alas, can’t assume any would have survived your perilous journey here—and we have more than enough parchment for another writer!”

Claire twirls around to interject, taking Byron’s hand while addressing you.

CLAIRE: “Or perhaps you should rest after all the excitement of tonight… after all, you could be our voter, since we know you would be the least biased.”

BYRON: “Or perhaps if you do stay, you’d rather become one of our muses? They say those who cannot write great literature often inspire it.”

POLIDORI: “Well, as long as you don’t become one of Byron’s muses, you should be fine.”

MARY: “I think Y/N has had a long night, and should consider whether they would like to stay tomorrow. I have the feeling that none of us will be finishing our stories tonight, at any rate, and I would like some time to ponder ideas myself.”

Y/N: “Oh, I agree. It is getting quite late.”

BYRON: “It’s only half past four in the morning!”

POLIDORI: “Not all of us are as nocturnal as Your Lordship.”

BYRON: “Oh, alright. Fletcher! Can you show Y/N to one of the spare rooms?”

FLETCHER: “Certainly, my Lord. Right this way, Y/N.”

Fletcher guides you by candlelight up the beautiful staircase and into a spacious room.

FLETCHER: “My Lord has just started renting the Villa recently, and the previous occupants left quite a few fine clothes in these wardrobes. You shall find everything you need, and if you need me for whatever reason, you need only call!”

Y/N: “Thank you, Fletcher, I appreciate the kindness.”

He leaves. A few minutes later, there is a knock at your door.

Y/N: “It is unlocked. Come in!”

The last person you expect walks in somewhat sheepishly.

PERCY: “I hope I’m not disturbing you! Only, Lord Byron told us he is sending Polidori to check on you in the morning to see if you’ve caught cold. Mary asked me to inform you.“

Y/N: “Oh, thank you for letting me know—I don’t mind.”

PERCY: “I only wanted to warn you, because the thing about Polidori is…”

You sigh and sit on the bed as he talks wildly.

PERCY: “He is an excellent doctor, but he is not to be trusted. We are generally civil… but he has challenged me to a duel before—I cannot explain it—he is constantly antagonizing someone. And he is in love with my Mary. And he and Byron… well, I cannot tell you the rest, you have been scandalized enough. He is a fine man most times, but do not believe whatever he tells you.”

Y/N: “I see. Only, it seemed to me like Byron and the doctor were antagonizing each other?”

PERCY: “Oh, the two of them… well, I cannot explain their past—but you mustn’t worry about Byron. Claire, however… she has a good heart, but will probably be cold toward you at first. She is in love with Byron, and when she loves, she loves with her whole being and is a jealous creature… ask Mary or Polidori. Or rather, don’t—it will only get us into more trouble.”

He pulls out a bottle of some mysterious black liquid out of his coat and takes a swig before handing it to you.

PERCY: “Alas! Here, take some of my laudanum. If you do catch cold, it will help. If you take enough… it will give you plenty of story ideas—not that I would advocate it. But, pray! Do not tell anyone I have lended it. Polidori and Mary will have a fit. Byron won’t care.”

He sits down,

PERCY: “Oh, speaking of Byron, he and I have just decided we are going sailing tomorrow alone if the weather permits. We have not told anyone. Would you like to come with? We are always so gay together—“

Percy is interrupted by a strange noise coming from the next room. He startles and grabs your hands.

Y/N: “What is that damnable sound?”

PERCY: “Oh, it sounds like a terrible wooden creaking… or, no… like a moaning, by God! It sounds like the ghost from the story we read tonight… Y/N, do you believe in ghosts? I do—I have been haunted for many years—oh! There it is again!”

Again, the creaking sound starts up, as do the haunting groans. Shelley grabs a candle with one hand and takes your arm in his other, shaking, gesturing toward a door on the far side of the room. The noise does sound ghostly.

Y/N: “I don’t know which room that door there leads to—I only came in through the other door, the one that leads through to the hall!”

PERCY: “Could it be another spare room? Oh, we must… do you think we should alarm the others, or brave it on our own? I can be persuasive—we may be diplomatic with the Spirits. They may prefer it if we confront them in small numbers instead of overwhelming them with the others…”

Y/N: “It’s probably just the wind—or the storm starting up again, or causing damage to the Villa—I shall see myself.”

You approach the door, but Percy pushes you aside. The groans and creaks continue.

PERCY: “No! I cannot let you be harmed if the spirits are demonic. I have already witnessed horrors beyond man’s comprehension. I will see them for myself.”

He finally swings the door open. Then, just as quickly, he slams the door shut. He turns to face you. Then he begins to laugh. Madly. You stare at him with fear, eagerly awaiting his response.

PERCY: “Did you know your room is connected to Lord Byron’s?”

A/N: This is the 2nd installment of Diodati Drama (oh, it has a name now—so you can search for it in my tags). Link to the first & previous poll: https://at.tumblr.com/burningvelvet/the-year-is-1816-and-you-get-caught-in-a-storm/jtf5ipwsz2l2

This is an interactive poll story/game where you get to explore the infamous Villa Diodati in 1816–where Mary Shelley pioneered horror and science-fiction by writing Frankenstein, Byron and Percy wrote some of the most famous poems in the English language, and Polidori wrote the first ever vampire novel, The Vampyre (based on Byron’s story). But that’s not all they got up to… vote to find out what happens next!

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themostleastuseful · 2 years ago

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A Review of a Thing

Greetings denizens of the incomprehensible abyss known as the internet, I am a random nobody who criticizes the art of people far more talented than I will ever be. This is the first time I have done anything remotely like this, so do not be surprised if you find it lacking. I know I sure do. Anyhoo, today I will be talking about a horror movie that wants to be a poem so badly that it forgot to have a point.

How do I describe I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House? Boring is too simple a word for how little I cared about anything that happened in this movie. Maybe colorless, or would that be too obvious? When the most interesting thing in a multimillion dollar film is a mold stain, money has not been spent well. It is styled as a gothic horror in the tradition of The Fall of the House of Usher and other Edgar Allen Poe works, but Poe it is not. His stories had themes more interesting than “death is kind of scary, right?”

The movie is about a woman named Lily who is hired to work as a live-in nurse for an old horror novelist (named Iris Blum) with dementia. A simple setup with potential for interesting payoffs. Are there going to be nightmarish creatures spawned from the mind of a creative individual slowly losing their grip on reality? Is the nurse on the run from a past she can never truly escape? Will the main character ever go outside? All of these questions, and more, will be immediately answered no because there isn’t enough time between all the shots of walls.

The plot goes thusly: The nurse shows up, Iris mistakes her for the ghost she’d been talking to for inspiration, Lily reads the book based on Polly (the ghost)’s story and figures out that it had actually happened in the house, then sees Polly in person and dies of a heart attack. Iris dies too because there was nobody left to care for her, then the last ten minutes are Lily monologuing about how dead she is.

Lily is one of the main problems I have with the movie. For starters, she talks like a grandma with an odd cadence reminiscent of someone telling a bedtime story. It kind of works for her monologues (though the language is so flowery it makes me want to sneeze) but she even does it when talking to her friend, who she calls a slut the way you might call a puppy silly. I am aware that the actress is British, but then why make her do an American accent?

Lily is a mix of childish and extremely odd that might make sense if she were supposed to be mentally handicapped in some way, but there is absolutely no indication that she is. Not to say it would be a bad thing, I’m autistic myself. It’s just that, if you’re going to make such a character, you’re going to need to establish or at least hint at it at some point.

There is a ghost, but we never really find out much about her or her motives. It seems like she wants to show the world what her ultimate fate was, but then she goes and makes Lily hallucinate that there’s mold growing on her arms (the only remotely interesting scene in the movie, by the way.) What’s that for? If she just wants vengeance on the living, why does she tolerate the writer living in her house for decades? Why was she murdered anyway? What’s the significance of her walking around with her upper half on backwards?

While I complain, the movie does manage to set an atmosphere of doom. The house feels empty and dark even during the day, and the music sets you on edge when it’s supposed to. The problem is, though, that the movie barely does anything with it. building tension without adequate release leaves viewers feeling stressed. A movie that has you feeling worse than when you started is not one you want to see again. Anyway, more complaining.

Like I said before, there is a foundation for something good buried within the snores. The movie has themes of aging and decay, with Iris being shown to have once been quite attractive, but time has taken her mind and body. Very gothic horror, but none of it feels like it was used to its proper potential. It should have focused more on the author and her futile struggle against time, with the house visibly deteriorating as a reflection of it. Maybe the ghost could change too, slowly becoming more corpselike until it disappears and the actual body busts out of its hole to do some spooking. As it is, I Am the Pretty Thing That Lives in the House bats the idea of beauty being transient around like a cat with a toy but never goes in for the kill. (The two central characters are named after flowers ooo so deep)

#movie review #film #spoilers #i am the pretty thing that lives in the house #horror #gothic horror

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theizzifromosaka · 1 year ago

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Monster Prom

Monster Prom is a series of lighthearted, lightly crude dating sims where your player character of choice attempts to romance one of several popular monsters at Spooky Academy. All characters featured are adults of their species.

I only played the first two games, and at the time of writing this have not invested much in the second title. These games operate on something akin to the Rule of Cool, it can be hard to tell what can be taken at face value, which is to say they have a pretty loose canon.

Miranda Vanderblit

Miranda is a legged mermaid who comes from Royalty, an obvious homage to The Little Mermaid. Miranda is spoiled to a comical degree, it’s stated on several instances that she considers herself above eating food and has servants who do that for her.

I've already spoken about mermaids in my previous reviews so I'll address a common design element pop culture mermaids often have, and Miranda here is no exception: Fin ears. I am of the opinion that they're kinda dumb but they're not a deal breaker for me.

Miranda kinda disappoints me with her design's simplicity. She's victim to what I previously referred to as the "just paint 'em blue" fallacy, and in my opinion she's an especially tragic example. Besides the previously mentioned fin ears and what are likely representative of gills on her neck, her design isn't very fish-y. In my opinion this could have been remedied with the inclusion of a tail, maybe a dorsal fin, a scaly pattern, or even something as simple as webbing between her fingers.

Polly Geist

Polly is a ghost, a real party animal and a heavy abuser of drugs and alcohol. A consistent detail is that drugs don't actually affect her much so in order to become intoxicated she has to possess someone, get them intoxicated, and as a result get herself intoxicated. She also tells a different story every time she talks about how she died.

Ghosts are very likely the most believed in mythical being in the world, with several cultures across the world having some equivalent that all end up being categorized in the west as "ghosts". Honestly it's kinda cheating. Based off her name and her outgoing nature it's safe to say Polly is specifically supposed to be a Poltergeist, a spirit of German origin that's often blamed for unexplained rattling noises and falling objects, and in that way they're similar to Gremlins. Pop culture poltergeists often levitate and throw several objects at once, including large pieces of furniture.

Polly's got a pretty basic design too, but in my opinion it works well. The cloudy wisp her ponytail forms is reminiscent of the tail ghosts are often depicted with (does anyone know why? I can't find a solid answer) and the shade of blue that her entire body sans her sclera sort of suggest she's akin to a projection. Of course I also have to mention her MASSIVE thigh gap, a feature which I find myself hung up on. Overall good, was originally my favorite but other designs grew on me.

Vera Oberlin

Vera is a money-oriented Gorgon with little sympathy for others. She’s always scheming ways to get rich(er) quick, and most scenarios with her involve helping her get away with some scam or fraud.

The three Gorgons of Greek Mythology were the sisters Stheno, Euryale and of course the famous Medusa. While the first two were immortal, Medusa was famously slain by the hero Perseus via decapitation. The most consistent feature of the Gorgons is their head of hair made of living snakes, which Vera here of course has.

Vera is a simple design that even more than Miranda really relies on the fact that she's green, but given the only real defining visual trait of a Gorgon is their head of snakes makes this understandable. I myself at one point considered making a Gorgon OC but pretty quickly found myself constrained by the lack of flexibility. It might be early to call it but I don't think Gorgons make for very good Monster Girls.

Zoe

Zoe, formerly known as Z’Gord, Ruler of the Dark Realms, is a Lovecraft-inspired Betentacled Deity who loves writing erotic fiction about the other students at Spooky High, and her favorite fictional ships. Her worshipers often follow her around and unintentionally bother her.

H. P. Lovecraft was an influential horror author who really made Cosmic Horror a thing. I'm not too familiar with his work so I can't really comment but his influence, similar to some of his creatures (I would assume), are inescapable.

Zoe's such a refreshing break from the characters so far. She's asymmetrical, she's got mouths on her limbs and eyeballs poking out everywhere except where you would expect. I'm not sure what eye I'm supposed to look at, and I genuinely love that. As delightful as I find her appearance her personality is a bit of a mixed bag for me, she's occasionally overbearing but can also be a lot of fun, and is also one of those characters that spouts Pop Culture references, which I kinda have to be in the mood for.

Vicky Schmidt

Vicky is one of the selectable player characters, a reanimated corpse who has the same vague personality as the other player characters.

She's classified on the wiki as a "Frankenstein's Monster" Frankenstein was the REAL monster which, if I may, if she wasn't made by Victor then she can't be one of his monsters.

Her design is honestly way too similar to Frankie Stein for me to come up with very much to say about her without feeling like I'm repeating myself. Her choice in clothing is much more mundane than what Frankie might wear, and I'm not sure why, but Vicky appeals to me a lot more.

Amira Rashid

Amira is another playable character, a Fire Djinn who once again has the same horndog personality as the other player characters.

Oh boy. Djinn. Why'd they have to go and make her a Djinn? Couldn't they have called her a Fire Elemental? Alright, so Djinn are really old, they're most commonly associated with Islamic beliefs but they actually predate Islam. They're powerful beings that are in many ways comparable to demons, however they're not inherently evil. Their power is respected and feared, and there are many parts of the world where belief in their existence is common. Most Americans might be more familiar with the concept of a wish granting Genie, which is basically like a translation of the concept. Honestly I'm barely scratching the surface, there's a lot to talk about with Djinn and no offense but I don't think Amira here deserves half this review to focus on her.

Amira's a really basic design, she's just a normal human whose head is on fire. Her design doesn't really have to stand out since she'll only really be seen on the Character Select Screen and during Endings. If you're curious, I believe the elemental Djinn thing comes from Tabletop RPG's.

Dahlia Aquino

Dahlia is a side character in the first game, promoted to main love interest in the second one. She’s a demon, rival of main love interest Damien LaVey. She’s very muscular.

I'm surprised it's taken me this long to talk about Demons. The wide spread of Christianity and their frequent use in pop culture means that most people already have some familarity with the general idea of demons, but basically they're agents of evil, and are pretty poorly defined. Demonology is its whole own thing with some pretty crazy demon descriptions out there, but most media just goes for the standard horned imp look. I feel compelled to mention that during the spread of the Catholic Church's influence a common tactic they would employ to convert people is to classify pagan deities as Demons, and informing them they've been worshiping a false idol.

Dahlia is very muscular, and very tall. 'Nuff said.

The Coven (Joy, Hope and Faith)

The Coven are a Coven of witches, who despite on many occasions insisting they are individuals mostly act as a unit, at least in the first game. Joy, the leader of the Coven, gets upgraded to main love interest in the sequel and as a result gets a lot more characterization.

Witches have a few different origins, all of them kinda unfortunate. Basically, think of the term Witch as being synonymous with "someone from a non-Catholic religious group", or sometimes quite simply "woman I don't like", and that should give you a pretty good idea about the history of Witches, and put into context the Witch Resurgence we've been seeing recently. While thankfully none of these three resemble the unfortunate antisemitic caricature associated with Witches, I still feel it's worth a mention. Witches are a real thing, kinda, and as such labeling them as Monsters is probably problematic. The Coven being unpopular among the student body is potentially a reference to how they don't belong, I suppose.

Aaravi Mishra (The Slayer)

Despite only being half monster I gotta say Aaravi might be my favorite character in the first game. She gets upgraded to main character in the second game, now sharing a body with a Sentient Curse named Hex. She seems to have chilled out a lot in the second game, which I’m honestly disappointing by. In the first game it’s not immediately apparent if she’s even a student, as she’s mostly seen running around trying to kill the students. Fortunately for them, she’s terrible at it, but it doesn’t stop her from trying.

The Slayer is only half monster, and we never even learn what the other half is. Despite this her bravado is so ridiculously endearing to me I still consider her my favorite character. Kinda weird saying that my favorite character in this game with Monster Girls up the wazoo is the most human one, but that's the reality I live in.

Nobody tell Tumblr I posted this without permission, I just wanted to share this fun voice line

Violet Portobello

It’s hard to talk about Violet without also mentioning her boyfriend Tate. The two are inseparable, as doing so would likely kill one or both of them at this stage. The two are often seen rubbing their literally toxic relationship in everyone’s faces. Poor Tate is very likely an unwilling participant of this relationship, and he doesn’t seem to have much autonomy.

I know we're not supposed to like this one but if you've seen my OCs then you know what I'm about, and I gotta be true to myself. Violet is cute and fun, not cute enough for me to envy Tate at all of course but enough to say that I appreciate her inclusion in the game.

The Boys

I'm actually gonna do it this time, I'll talk briefly about the main male love interests. They stand on equal footing with the girls in this title, and are subject to the same level of fanservice.

Scott Howl

Scott is a jock, a real himbo and a self-proclaimed Good Boy. He's a werewolf with a simple lifestyle and many doglike properties.

Scott's got a pretty average design for a werewolf. Big, hairy and wild-looking. I'm not sure if the implication is that he's always partially transformed given his tail but he follows the classic trope of not remembering what he did while transformed.

Liam de Lioncourt

Liam is a vampire, a hipster and a contrarian. He hates things that are popular and sees himself as the ultimate authority when it comes to good tastes.

Liam's one of those characters whose appeals I don't really get. Like I can understand being a fan of an unlikable douche, but I'm more the kind of guy that laughs when said douche takes a pratfall.

Damien LaVey

Damien loves destruction, arson and generally anything he thinks is cool. He's a demon prince, and unlike Vera he is not afraid to get his hands dirty just because he's royalty.

Damien's design resembles one of those depictions of Satan where he has horns, a long thin tail ending in a spade and often seen holding a pitchfork. It's a fun take on the design that really imbues it with "rebellious youth" energy.

Calculester Hewlett-Packard

Voiced by Jacksepticeye, Calculester is an automaton made from a school computer and given life via a magical floppy disk. He's naïve and mostly just wants to make friends, often having to be tricked into immoral actions.

What a fun design. A '90s style computer monitor mounted on a robotic body that matches its aesthetic, with ribbon cables and what might be copper tubes poking out in places. Also have to mention his last name, that's funny.

I have unfortunately not had the pleasure of playing this game with friends but regardless this game's humor and charming characters made me a fan of it. Its cryptic, occasionally frustrating systems have to be mentioned but they're only really a problem if you start trying to hunt endings, not helped by incomplete documentation on the events meaning that no walkthrough is totally complete. this game's got a LOT of dialogue.

Monster Girl fans might have a lot of fun getting to know this cast of characters, but superficial fans might get bored after having seen a few of the endings. Monster Boy fans have just as much to gain from playing this, which is rare. Most media picks one or the other to appeal to.

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#monster girls #monster girl reviews #Monster Prom #mermaid #ghost #gorgon #lovecraftian horror

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abigailzimmer · 2 years ago

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Favorite Reads of 2022

With how many books I loved this year (lots of poetry, speculative fiction, and writers reading other writers!), it’s interesting to see what really lingers with me. Some books, like Rebecca Lindenburg‘s are quiet but I always think of her list-poem of clouds when I look up at the sky. Fathoms wasn’t exactly a page turner and the long passages of statistics in Invisible Women made my eyes glaze over at times, yet I go on thinking about and sharing what I’ve learned from them. Olivia Cronk and m. forajter are friends and encountering their voices again on the page was the most special kind of reading experience. The first six books on this list were particularly unexpected and inventive in how they played with form. Here’s a little more of why I loved each of them:

1. I simply adored Dear Sal, a poem/play/poem/epistolary by Jeremy Radin (published by Not a Cult) about love, longing, and home. With its backdrop of war and the Jewish diaspora, theatrical feel, and love story, plus a fabulist cast of characters, Dear Sal reminds me of Ilya Kaminsky’s Deaf Republic in all the best ways. Abacus, “the letter-composing klutz,” writes to Sal, “the stubborn beloved,” a year after their brief affair, and the others chime in—in sympathy, distraction, or encouragement that he once again find “stars and the beginning of your darlingsong” (my favorite line, right up there with “the animal of my solitude.”) The letters to Sal are my favorite parts but also delightful are the distinct voices of each of the personae poems, as in this one from his pants:

“But o you bleary

and bumbling thing!

O you brimming

and bumbling marvel!

What is all this [he indicates my bumbling]

but proof

that all this [he indicates the mysteries]

is working?”

2. In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado is a tough and exquisitely told story. A memoir of a psychologically and emotionally abusive queer relationship, told at a slant, through the tropes and genres of other stories—spy thrillers, creature features, stories of wrong lessons, omens, natural disasters, and deja vu. Through her story, she also explores the general disbelief of abuse in queer relationships, the desire to “put our best foot forward” in the community, and the subsequent need for marginalized communities to be accepted in all their humanity—acknowledging the good and the bad. Again, it’s a tough read, but also incredibly moving and I loved the path she found to write about the unspeakable.

3. Interrogating the Eye by m. forajter (Schism Press) is a journey in understanding what images represent—a witness, an annunciation, a leakage, a thinking of the future, the self (“boring!”). Under the influence of Kurt Cobain, roses gifted by Bhanu Kapil, and medieval art, forajter writes with and on depression in a world that is polluted, sick, and full of passion. How do you return to making art when your relationship to yourself has changed, and where is “a steady hand … to no longer think in pieces”? Forajter looks and looks, and her looking grows into a kind of ownership and replenishing desire. It’s a heartfelt and exciting read.

“tuned towards the void/tuned towards myself // and yet, the sneakiness of vision. the sun that touches. the multiplicity of light. this is a vision made velvet.”

4. Where the Wild Ladies Are by Aoko Matsuda, translated by Polly Barton is a special kind of ghost story collection. Inspired by Japanese folktales, Matsuda’s stories feature a woman’s lover who, fished out of a river, appears every night in need of a bath; a son grieves his mother too much and to her annoyance; two saleswomen are eerily successful in getting people to buy their lanterns; and a ghost who died counting plates counts them again in her new form. These stories feature clever and thoughtful women with expanding ambitions and selves, exercising their very special talents alongside the living. This was so unexpected in style and voice and utterly delightful!

5. In two long poems, Olivia Cronk takes us into a wild, performative space in Womonster (Tarpaulin Sky). Scenes are blocked for the stage, our characters lounge on beds paging through magazines, and the narrative is frequently interrupted by a interrogator asking the speaker if they know what they’re doing. Through a deep attention to childhood and adult desires, fashion (“I understand the game is played in costume”), and the emotions we “parade in language,” she examines the many selves we carry from one era of our lives to another and one space to another:

“everything leaks / from home / and like it’s coming right into my purse like I packed it in the morning with my lunch”

The theater of home life is re-created on the page as both a control space to practice living in the speaker’s preferred conditions (“I cannot bear / domestic re-order”) and a purely play space rejecting convention and seeing everything anew (“the impossibility of the stairs meeting us is like a play”). It’s a thrilling, soap opera of a read, one to keep you on your toes and full of possibilities that only Olivia can create.

6. In The Trees Witness Everything, Victoria Chang (Copper Canyon Press) herself two very interesting constraints: a response to a poem title by W.S. Merwin and the form of a Japanese syllabic poem. The short poems (on memory and time, how we move through the day, how we look up and the birds we see when we do, and sadness, meditations which always seem to move together) are simple and powerful, giving so much space to sit with in the hard moments and delight in the small moments. I like that Chang writes mostly from a realist perspective, slipping occasionally into the surreal. And among the moon. Poets and their moons and the birds—I’ll never tire.

“There is a bird and a stone

in your body.

Your job is not

to kill the bird with the stone.”

7. The Undocumented Americans by Karla Cornejo Villavicencio is a moving picture of both the large and everyday challenges that undocumented people face. Through interviews and her personal experience, Karla raises the issues of what being undocumented means for access to health care—the networks of healers and solutions that spring up in its absence and the challenge in caring for aging parents, which particularly struck home. She writes how because of the need for work, undocumented people are often the first responders in crises and natural disasters, as in the case of 9/11 clean up efforts, but do so with a high risk of exploitation (to their health and to getting paid) and few means of advocacy. And she shares stories of people living in sanctuary, its indefinite state and challenges and its affects on families. In her introduction, she writes that she approached the interviews not with a journalistic focus but in the spirit of translation, particularly of poetry, to convey her subjects with the warmth, humor, wit, weirdness, and annoying traits they had, to make them more than workers or legal terms, to make them human. A necessary read and so much to think about what and how we can change our systems. One heartbreaking passage that has stuck with me is of the long-term effects of generations of kids being separated from their families:

“Researchers have shown that the flooding of stress hormones resulting from a traumatic separation from your parents at a young age kills off many dendrites and neurons in the brain that results in permanent psychological and physical changes. One psychiatrist I went to told me my brain looked like a tree without branches. So I just think about all of the children who have been separated from their parents, and there’s a lot of us, past and present, and some under more traumatic circumstances than others—like those who are in internment camps right now—and I just imagine us as an army of mutants. We’ve all been touched by this monster, and our brains are forever changed, and we all have trees without branches in there, and what will happen to us? Who will we become? Who will take care of us?”

8. Invisible Bias: Data Bias in a World Designed for Men is a book that is somehow both obvious and illuminating and also vindicating and incredibly frustrating for women to read. Caroline Criado Perez explores the places where we lack gender-specific data for everything from the unexpected planning of snow plow routes to creating clean-energy stoves to filing joint taxes. Some of this women just know intuitively: office spaces are too cold, seat belts are uncomfortable, iPhones rarely fit in pockets or hands, and gosh we do lots of unpaid labor. But it’s fascinating and affirming to see how these standards come about and how they might easily change once we gather the appropriate data and include people in the communities that a product/medicine/service serves to be part of the planning and feedback processes.

9. This year I read two collections by Rebecca Lindenburg, whose work is quiet and yet has loomed large in my mind. The Logan Notebooks (Center for Literary Publishing) in particular is a listy kind of book, in the spirit of Sei Shōnagon’s Pillow Book, a consideration of what makes a poetic subject. Lindenberg’s poems are gatherings on the topics of trees, mountains, insects, winds. On things that matter and things that have lost their power. Set in many kinds of wests, but mostly Utah, Lindenberg chronicles dailyness, the beautiful and impossible things that happen and also the things that are simply there. It’s an easy, meditative book to fall into, and one that grows in loveliness the longer you sit with it.

10. And finally, Rebecca Giggs' Fathoms: The World in a Whale was a dense and slow read and at times a little boring and yet these reasons are part of why it’s stuck with me for so long. The book focuses broadly on humans’ history with and impact on whales, partly in how our trash affects them (one whale was found with a whole greenhouse in its stomach), but also our noise, our tourism, our exploration and excavation of the world, our attitudes toward experiencing nature. She writes that because of her research, “my entire definition of pollution demanded revision." Griggs advocates for a philosophy of conservation that goes beyond "saving the whales" to retaining the "possible contexts in which they can continue their unique behaviors." She writes:"How to care for unmet things would seem to be a key question of this political moment."

My favorite fact: Cow farts release carbon dioxide, but whale poop helps absorb it. Because of ocean pressure, they rise to shallower levels to poop—and the current of their poop stirs up organic matter, bringing it closer to the surface so that it photosynthesizes, accelerating plankton growth and absorbing CO 2. The last 200 years of whaling has significantly depleted whale populations, altering the air and earth's atmosphere. So restoring populations would mitigate climate change—as significantly as trees. (!!!)

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 8 months ago

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So, I figured I’d close out my #MarchFicMadness24 with the fic I read this month that made me LOSE my goddamn MIND. There’s no way in heck that I’d ever be able to put everything I loved about this story into words and Im sorry about that. I’m honestly not even sure there are words for all of what I’d want to say about this absolute masterpiece, though. But I’m going to do my best to highlight some of the things that made it hit like it did.

TLDR: if you haven’t read this one yet, you should run not walk and change that immediately. Just be sure to read and heed all warnings and buckle those seatbelts because this rollercoaster takes some steep drops into dark places but GOSH it’s worth it.

I’m not really sure where to begin. The concept is so damn intriguing, I think I was half hooked by the time I read the series synopsis. The characters are so alive and dimensional and fleshed out and real. The actual writing is stunning and the storytelling? The planning and plotting of it all? It’s brilliant.

When I started reading this fic, I was trying to pace myself. For two reasons: 1) I knew right from the start that this story was going to be an extremely emotional one, and I wanted to be able to absorb what it made me feel and think about it a little before moving on, & 2) I knew right away that it was a TREAT and I wanted to draw out reading it so I could enjoy unraveling it for longer. My plans went to shit around part 8. Instead of 1 or 2 chapters a day I was upping my dosage to 2 or 3. I read chapters 14-17 in one sitting, because I HAD TO KNOW, finished reading at 2am, and stared at my ceiling for another hour afterwards just in AWE of what I’d just consumed. This story is one of the most binge-able (if not binge-necessary) things I’ve ever read, fic or not.

And it’s in very large part due to the characters and how attached I as a reader became to them. Your Dieter is so believable and real and flawed and scarred and scared and loveable that it actually hurts. No, really, like I’ve had this little ache that feels like my heart is being squeezed every time I think about him, which is often because he and Lou now own a condo in my brain which I have no plans on charging them rent for.

Lou! 🫶🏻 I love her so damn much. She’s strong and funny and loving and doing her best under the shittiest circumstances imaginable. I connect with her on so many levels it’s spooky. No I’ve not had a near death experience, thankfully, but … so many of her other experiences and traits are very relatable to me. (Also if she’s open to sharing her recipe for apple danish edibles I would not turn that down.) But you’ve written her in such an entirely human way that even readers with nothing in common with her life can and will fall in love with her and root for her and care about her.

I’m not sure I’ve ever met two characters who needed to be in each other’s lives more than Dee and Lou do. Even with all the bullshit and the stains on their pasts (and carpets) they click so naturally and completely that it just feels like neither of them would live their best most full and happy lives without the other.

This is the best way I can come up with to express how much I love these two: I want to shrink them both down to Polly Pocket size, and tuck them safely into a hard plastic clamshell thingie (shaped vaguely like a ghost, obviously, but the inside is half Lou’s apartment and half Dieter’s house) and put it in my inner coat pocket (the one right by my heart) so no one can ever fucking hurt them. And I think that’s completely normal of me. 😌

Every single aspect of this story felt saturated in detail and meaning and visual beauty. I once attended a wedding at this auction house and it was this huge open space full of the most beautiful and eclectic and colorful and textured STUFF (carpets and sculptures and mirrors and tapestries and chairs and lamps and and and …. you get it) and it was such a sensory wonderland. Reading this story gave me that exact same feeling. I hope that makes sense haha.

And it wasn’t just the scenery and descriptions that contributed to that saturated feeling. It was the backstories and relationships you gave these characters. The loss and grief but also the love and good times. And the way you wove all the flashbacks and memories in with the current storyline and what was seen/talked about in the psychomanteum… it just… it was so meticulously and carefully layered to create such an impactful story.

The way you handled so many delicate topics was amazing. You didn’t shy away from or gloss over the really dark, really scary, really hurtful parts of addiction, loss, depression, suicide, homophobia, shitty unsupportive family members, infidelity, infertility… none of it was done with kid gloves but all of it was done with purpose and intent. And I think it was really brave and inspiring.

Real quick before I wrap this up: shout out to the A#1 best of the best friends to ever exist, Saint Parker. Truly a top tier real one. Also? I know he had demons that turned him into someone he wasn’t, but I might still study necromancy just to resurrect Ethan so I can strangle him with my bare hands for what he did to Lou.

Okay. Listen. Like I said when I started this. There’s no way I’ve said everything I wanted to, nor as eloquently as I wanted to. But the main thing I want you to know is that I loved every part of this story with my whole heart and soul and I’m going to be thinking about it until the end of time. Thank you so incredibly much for creating it and sharing it. You’re wonderful!! 🖤

psychomanteum masterlist

[ AO3 ] [ Spotify Playlist ] [ Taglist ]

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Louella

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Status: Completed

Series Summary: You've recently taken on the customer-facing responsibilities of the small-scale cannabis bakery you and your late husband ran out of your apartment, which introduces you to occasional customer, Dieter Bravo. A friendship is sparked when you realize you have something in common: you've both died. What Dieter doesn't tell you about his near-death experience, though, is that it foretold his life with you.

Tags/Warnings: grief, alternating POV, widowed OFC, 2nd person POV, physical descriptions of OFC include tattoos & scars & being lifted by dieter but nothing else that I can think of, smoking pot, consuming edibles, acid trip, drinking alcohol, cocaine and morphine use, substance abuse & addiction, fame, paparazzi, non-canon compliant although I try it’s not perfect, post-canon, divorce, suicidal thoughts and planning, angst, near-death experiences, smut (that includes: alternating power dynamics, unprotected sex with consent and discussion, piv, oral, anal), bi4bi romance, paranormal elements but not over the top spooky-ooky, psychomanteums, ghosts, spirituality, drag queen, ldr, friends to lovers, trauma that involves family of origin and past relationship issues, infertility (OFC Louella is infertile), this list is not the end all be all so pls check out warnings at the top of each chapter 🖤✨

chapters

1: Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough for the Two of Us

2: Blotter Acid Reflux Syndrome

3: Sedated

4: The Past Is A Grotesque Animal

5: Sex with a Ghost

6: Red Flags and Long Nights

7: Monster

8: Would You Rather

9: Dearly Departed

10: Snow Day

11: Hollywood Forever Cemetery Sings

12: Ghost in the Machine

13: Lunacy Fringe

14: Wish You Were Here

15: The Widow

16: Famous Last Words

17: I’ll Be Your Mirror

snacks

Wake ‘n’ Bake

Summary: You have a virtual smoke session with your new friend and secret crush, Dieter Bravo. This takes place in the storyline between chapters 2 & 3.

Acting Lesson

Summary: Dieter convinces you to roleplay with him. This takes place in the storyline between chapters 12 & 13.

#marchficmadness24 #dieter bravo x ofc louella #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo fic #psychomanteum #dee and lou forever 🫶🏻#I’m not kidding about the polly pockets #whatsnewalycat #fic rec fic rec fic rec!!!

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ponds-of-ink · 1 year ago

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Westerfield, Tenny-See/BB-Bella Lore

Okay, I’m going to info-dump on my potential story ideas for Westerfield/BB-Bella real quick. Spoilers below for a couple of story beats, if I decide to do this as a loose NaMoWrimo or something.

Quick Disclaimer: There are some actually pretty dark ghost stories in here. While I won’t be going into extreme detail, the content may be emotionally distressing for some. If I had to give an example, I’d say… maybe… Gravity Falls level? Maybe? I haven’t watched the show, so I’m going to need a second opinion on that.

So far, the basic premise is that little Bella Pickens has officially had her Rite of Passage for local folklore hunting. Yes, she is considered old enough to go out into her hometown of Westerfield, Tennessee (pronounced and spelled Tenny-See for some long-forgotten reason) by her parents. And, being the little spooky-loving girl she is, she’s absolutely thrilled.

However, due to some dangers in the woods, she can’t go alone. She invites her “fashion rival” Rem and the town-famous storyteller Old Jeb to come along, since they’re the only ones she knows that also like these kinds of spooky shenanigans.

While there most likely will be more haunting surprises in store, I have only two ghostly legends set up: The Stone Rabbit and The Harlan Family.

The Stone Rabbit itself isn’t that scary. It’s just an extra-fluffy rabbit statue carved out of stone. What is terrifying, however, is the story that comes with it.

You see, many decades ago, a couple of out-of-state visitors stayed at The Harlan House for a vacation. Everyone who visited came and left… Except for one. A man known only as “William Miller” decided to remain one more night, not knowing that it would be his last. Much to the homeowners’ horror, he was found dead at midnight with a teddy bear in his arms as its sole witness to what actually happened.

The poor homeowners thought William had died of grief due to sone horrific incident a few weeks prior, but no supporting evidence was found. No letter, no tear stains on the pillow, and no weapon.

Shortly after, Miller was given a quiet burial in the rose garden. Due to the horrible timing of it all, only the homeowners attended. A rabbit statue was soon placed beside the gravestone to honor the one fact they knew for certain about the man: He really liked bunnies.

Ever since then, there have been reports of the statue literally springing to life on its own. Some say it’s the Harlan family’s spirits preparing to mess with Miller’s descendants should they dare visit his grave. A few claim that William himself was inhabiting the rabbit, most likely trying to figure out how to escape such a degraded place. There are even a few who suggest that a deceased family member is guarding his grave, though its hopping doesn’t resemble a cautious watchman. Whatever the reason, the rabbit is meandering around. Scanning its surroundings until the sun comes up.

In case you’re wondering why the Harlans have been mentioned in such a villainous light, there’s a very good reason for that. Aside from a few decent folk like Pretty Polly, most of them are absolute menaces. Using their ghostly powers to terrorize both the normal and the unnatural. Striking deals to wayward travelers for them to be living groundskeepers with no pay and no way home. No matter the circumstances, their decree holds true: You’ll never leave Harlan alive.

And this was something the homeowners back in Miller’s day knew quite well.

But that’s another story for another time.

On the slightly less bleaker side of things, Pretty Polly herself has been keeping them at bay with her music box. It is a shame that the once-enthusiastic dame has now been reduced to an ever-winding music box extension. It was already bad enough with her untimely demise at the hands of Billy Stakes.. Which the Polly folk song already covered, so maybe I won’t have to reexplain it here. Emphasis on maybe.

Finally going back to Bella’s side of things, she shouldn’t have to worry about the Harlans just yet. A few of the smaller mysteries should be enough to get her started. Like the Treasure of Rock Candy Lake. Or the Parrot of Gold-Beard. Something that provides adventure, but still has less chances to go wrong straight away. After all, if she went to the Harlans now, then the saying would go for all three of them…

To wrap up, let’s switch to some behind the scenes stuff. Most of the folklore for Westerfield falls into one of two categories: stuff I made up and stuff inspired by bluegrass songs.

Pretty Polly and the Harlans fall into the bluegrass category, but for different reasons. The Harlans in general were inspired by this one song whose chorus honestly made the county it was based on was a crypid town. So, in order to fit the haunted house story I was writing, I changed it to a family who refused to let “trespassers” leave their manor alive. Unfortunately, the true motives behind that motto aren’t clear to me yet.

Pretty Polly, however, is very clear. Her name and ghostly backstory are pulled from the Pretty Polly ballad, but I’ve winged it a bit with the rest. There is this detail in a couple of renditions where she has multiple rings on her hands, so that might come into play later. Maybe they now have this power to keep certain ghosts at bay? Hmm..

As for William Miller?

You know I had to sneak a cameo of sorts in there. ;]

So, yes, him and the parrot are completely original [as one of them can get]. The Rock Candy Lake is named after Big Rock Candy Mountain, but only because the water looks like rock candy at certain points of the day.

…Oh and one more thing: Bella’s supposed to go into a fiddle-playing show-down later.

#original project #bell-bottomed bella #westerfield tenny-see #info dump #ghost stories #so yes #death mention tw

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rxttenfish · 2 years ago

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Are Polly and the Coven any different in your mon prom redesigns? Or any notes on ghosts and witches in general for that

POLLY IS ONE I HAVE BEEN PUTTING OFF FOR

A REASON-

okay to start with, the coven. they're actually pretty boring? namely, because with the redesigns, they're just humans, and that delves into how the magic system works. some humans are born with basically what's an innate pool of mana - workable magic that their body creates and replenishes on its own. a significant chunk of it gets used up in pretty typical metabolic processes, it can especially be used to bolster the immune system when it needs to, but if you practice with it or just luck out, then you can use your own natural pool of magic as a source of magic, to cast spells or charms or rituals or what have you.

however, in the redesign universe, anyone can cast magic, they just need a source to supply the juice for the working. for people like the coven, this is often just themselves, but even if you don't have that natural internal source, you can still find a source elsewhere. sometimes this is a naturally occurring magical aquifer, sometimes its someone else with a pool of magic they can spare you, sometimes its a magical object, whatever. just find something that makes magic into a workable form that you can use. people with their own internal supplies can also use a different source too, and often will do so, whether that's because they need more than what they alone can supply, or just to not exhaust themselves. it's not unheard of for creatures like sapient spells to offer their services loaning magic out, and the deal the coven has with the goddess is similar to one of these.

(the most interesting thing here is that... well, the goddess would be something called a Magic Generator, which is a bit like a sun. magic exists everywhere in the form of universal background magic, but has to be gathered together in a mass great enough to actually be used for spells or workings or what have you. magic generators are the source of this universal background magic, as they're big bundles of raw magic that's being internally made and shed into the universe. unfortunately, this makes them a bit volatile to be around, and are a bit like having a hurricane walk around and talk to people.

funnily enough, while they are the stand-in for gods in the redesign universe, they aren't worshipped or have their own religions, unless said magic generator went out of their way to try and found a religion centered around themselves. the goddess is just calling herself the goddess here. that's a decision she's making for herself. other people can and would view this as kind of a chud move, though i'd have to think more about it to determine what her relationship with the coven is like.)

and polly is

a ghost

but the thing to remember is that

horror is my favorite genre

so when i say polly is a ghost, yes, i do mean she is literally the remaining imprint of someone who has died, and that she does still have the personality that we know and expect of polly.

but she's also a ghost story. there's not a lot of happiness or easy to digest topics going on beneath polly's surface - she has been trapped inside of herself, inside of a body that is not her body and at once is as she knew it to be and also has been left in a box and left to rot and she feels all of these things at once, this duality of nature, of sense, of self. of being ripped in a thousand different directions and held inside a glacier at the same time, unable to move on, unable to shift, forced to be the same person on the same day at the same hour unless she wants to be gone for good, lost to a world that seeks to snuff her out. she can only clench tighter and tighter, bear her teeth down harder and harder, try to hold herself together, but in the act of doing so, become a perversion of herself, a façade of who she may have been, once, all the more divorced from the humanity and life that she used to have and devouring the warmth and light around her in order to do so.

it's complicated. ghosts are supposed to move on. they're supposed to get their affairs in order, find the thing that's stuck them there, and finish it. fade away. let the final death take them.

ghosts are not supposed to stay there, stuck in place, stuck somewhere to rot, trying to dig fingers they no longer have into the world around them and leaving scratch marks behind.

its natural to be afraid of death. but the dead are supposed to stay dead for a reason.

#asks #extrakerestrial #all the care guide says is 'biomass'#monster prom reanimated #Monster Prom: Reanimated #and that's why polly doesnt look... Right #her form looks unstable. at once its polly like she was alive and at once you see her body rot and at once you see her fade into smoke #not to mention the effect her emotions have on it #its hard to remember how youre supposed to look when you dont have a mirror on hand #its even harder to remember how youre supposed to look when you dont even have a body anymore #was this what polly looked like? could you reconstruct your own body out of nothing but your memories?#could you hold it together? for a hours? for days? for years?#could you stave off your own rot by nothing but your will? how long could you do it for? could you do it forever?#polly's story is very much a ghost story.

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theshelbyclan · 3 years ago

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Wishful Whispers

Summary: The youngest Shelby is granted one wish for her eighth birthday and has decided she wants the whole family to go to the beach

(gif by @nofckingfighting)

A/N: I got this really cute request by an anonymous requester: Imagine Shelby sis just BEGGING her brothers to take her to the beach because "I live in a freaking island and I've never seen the ocean"Like how sweet is that!? Also, I tried a shelby sis, but in the third person because… dunno? Never done that before JIt’s a little bit shorter than my usual ones as well, for no particular reason, and a lot sweeter and softer than the series itself, but sometimes that’s nice as well… Thank you so much for requesting and I hope you like it! Words: 1553 ***

“I know…” Tommy Shelby opened his eyes just a little when he heard those possibly menacing words being whispered into his ear during what felt like the middle of the night.

“Tommy?” the whispering little ghost tried again, “I know!” “Really?” he grumbled, not vaguely interested in anything but a few more hours of sleep, “go and tell Arthur.” “I already tried that, but he told me to piss off,” an offended reply came. “How about John-boy, eh?” Another sigh, “I tried him, but he’s not sleeping… he’s with…someone.” Tommy rolled his eyes in the dark and admitted defeat, “Alright, you tell me then. What do you know,” he never could really say no to his youngest sister.

“Remember when you told me a story that one night?” Thomas did not remember, but he rubbed his eyes as he gave up the possibility of sleep. “About this fish that secretly wanted to be a desert cactus?” she beamed, “I really liked that story.” “I’m glad to hear that, Y/N. Now, if that’s all…” “No!” she quickly said, “I’ve been thinking about that, right, and I’ve decided I really want to see that fish…” “You want to see the fish,” he repeated, instantly regretting his storytelling. Emphasising every word, she said, “I want to see the ocean, Tommy!” And this is when he got up and decided to light a cigarette, because this could take a while. Of course, he loved his sister deeply. In fact, some might even say he was soft when it came to her, even though he tried his best to be strict. But once she started talking, she never really stopped. He’d often wondered where she got that little character trade from. John was the same though… “I mean, we live on a island, Tommy, and I’ve never even seen it! And Nancy from down the lane told me about the beach and it sounds amazing!” “It’s just sand,” Tommy grumbled, “just rocks and sand.” “Well, I want to go,” she pouted, “and when you asked me last week about my birthday, Arthur said I could make a birthday wish.” “Bloody Arthur did, did he?” he took a slow drag of his cigarette. “This is my wish.” So Tommy decided to change tactics, “Are you sure, Y/N? You could ask for anything and you want to waste your one good wish on some sand and rocks and water?” “Yes.” Well, there was no changing her mind now. *** And so the entire Shelby family piled into the family car and made their way to the beach. Tommy had called for a family meeting, had announced they were going and everyone had protested in their own way. Ada said she had other plans, John said he wanted to work on the books, Arthur didn’t understand why the fuck they would go to the beach in the first place and Polly had just rolled her eyes. Truthfully, it just wasn’t a very Shelby-like outing. But then Y/N had appeared into the kitchen and had pouted her most expertly pout and had whimpered something along the lines of, “but it’s my birthday wish…” And it’d worked. Like the little devil knew it would. Tommy smirked a little behind the wheel as he thought of it. So here they were, all dressed completely inappropriately for the beach, less than excited, apart from Y/N and Finn, who bounced non-stop with excitement and anticipation. God had better make a note of this good deed. “Are we there yet?” Finn asked every five minutes. “Not yet.” “Are we almost there yet?” Y/N asked like clockwork immediately after. And Arthur had had enough and snapped, “For fuck’s sake, we’ll let you know once we get there, now sit down and shut up!” “Arthur, calm down,” Polly soothed a little, “They’re only eight.” “I’m nine!” Finn protested, “Nine and three months!” “Tom, I brought the rum, just in case,” the disgruntled eldest brother commented. John sighed a, “thank fuck.” and even Tommy was silently relieved. What were the Shelby’s supposed to do at a beach? Finally they got there. As soon as the first grain of sand could be seen, Y/N went wild. Like feral animals the two youngest started screaming and Finn almost fell out of the car and would’ve died, if it hadn’t been for Ada’s seemingly disinterested but lightning-quick watchful eyes. As soon as they’d gotten out of the car, all three brothers froze for a second. It was like being back in France, but it also wasn’t. In any case, it stirred some memories alright. But they all reacted different: John decided to ignore and play and he ran after Finn and Y/N with gleeful shouts. Arthur started drinking, ignoring Polly’s reproachful eyes. And Tommy? He never said a word, but his memories were all his. “IS THAT A FISH!”, Y/N suddenly bellowed and Tommy knew duty called. With fancy shoes full of sand in no time, he walked over to his little sister, picked her up and placed her on his hip and peered out towards the sea with her. Then he had to smile, “That’s a dog, sweetheart, just swimming. See?” “Oh.” “Come on,” John grinned broadly, “let’s go to the ocean!” All three of them started racing towards the sea. John looked a little out of place in his three-piece costume, but then Tommy realised they all must look like that. And when he turned around, he saw Polly and Ada sitting in the sand, looking a little out of place as well. Little Y/N came bounding back towards Tommy, “Come with me, Tommy, come to the water!” “Did you feel it yet?” Tommy asked, “is it cold?” “It’s salt,” she stated a little shortly, which made Tommy look at her more closely. Then she confessed, “John told me to drink it because he said it was good, but it wasn’t. Then he laughed at me.” “Go to you aunt,” Tommy said, empathetically, “She’ll have some lemonade for you. Go on! To wash away the taste.” He’d have a word with John later.

Meanwhile, Finn had found some seaweed and had started throwing it a John, and the two of it had made some crazy game out of it. And then some of it landed on Arthur. Everyone froze. “Alright, who the fuck…” Arthur started to explode. “Arthur,” Tommy held up a hand, “remember why we’re here.” “Why are we here again, Tom?” “Y/N.” For a few moments, Arthur was thinking very hard and then he clearly made up his mind, “Right, well how’s the water?” “Fucking freezing, Arthur,” John said. “Come on, Johnny,” his brother laughed as he started taking off his shoes and jacket, “we’ve seen worse in France, haven’t we?” and much to everyone’s surprise, Arthur made his way into the sea. Immediately, Finn and Y/N followed. Like little puppies, they sprinted in and out of the water and it was like their energy levels never even went down. After the swimming, Y/N quickly drifted back to Tommy again, because she was usually by his side. Carefully, he lifted her up onto his neck and together they walked along the beach in silence. “Tommy?” she asked, “Was the fish from your story really real?” “Yes, he was, Y/N, but I’m not sure you’ll find him here…” “No, probably not,” Y/N mused, “he’s further away in the water where it’s warmer. Like in the desert.” Holding her in place with one hand and smoking with the other, Tommy asked, “And is it everything you hoped it was? The beach?” “It’s different from Small Heath,” she piped in a high voice, “Less smoke. More sand.” He coughed a short laugh, “It’s different from Small Heath, alright.” “I like playing with you and I like the water and the sand. Arthur even went in with us, Tommy, did you see? And John was like he used to be, all funny. And even you are different!” “Me?”

She stayed silent for a long time, like she was trying to pluck up the courage to say it, “You’re more like you before you went away.” “Well,” Tommy eventually replied, “maybe we should come here more often. “We should,” his little sister agreed wisely. On the ride home, Finn was too tired from playing to even speak and Y/N slept like a little baby in the back of the car, on Arthur’s lap, with her head in Polly’s hands. And even though the Shelby’s weren’t ones for holidays, the sea air had proved therapeutic for all.

*** “Tommy?” another whisper sounded in his ear. Internally, Tommy screamed and tried to choke himself with the pillow. He’d only just put her to bed five minutes ago. He’d just drifted off to sleep and here the creepy little thing was again!

“What is it, Y/N,” he managed to ground out. Hissing uncomfortably in his ear, she said the sweetest words that managed to melt even the coldest and most annoyed heart, “Today was my most favourite day ever. Thank you.” He smiled in the dark, “Good.” “Didyoulike it, Tommy?” “Yes, I did. But don’t tell anyone.” “Tommy?” “Hmm…” He really, really wanted to sleep now. A small voice pleaded, “Can I stay here?” Knowing what she was about to ask before she even finished her question, he’d already pulled the blanket aside for her. That night there were no shovels. Only beaches with little girls, and fish who dreamt of being cactuses, and wishes made true.

***

Masterlist

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peakyswritings · 11 months ago

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Alright I’m SO late for this

I’m sorry if this comment will be messy, because 1 - it’s midnight, and 2 - some of what I wrote was written while I read the story, so consider those parts as a “live reaction”. Some other parts I wrote make sense though, I swear, ‘cause I was too attached to the screen to comment and I wrote them later

First of all, I loved how you describe the development of (Y/n) and Ada’s friendship, and how attached they got to each other. Ada felt so in character, I swear it felt like hearing her speak. It was so interesting to have a bit of background, and I can’t wait to know even more.

Speaking about wanting to know more:

Squinting further into the glass your eyes focused in on a woman behind you on the opposite side of the street silently watching you as a man dressed in black stood behind her, his hand cupping her shoulder as he whispered into her ear, both faces blurred by the weathered glass but familiar, eerily familiar.

Who are they??? What do they want???

Ethel and Betsy seem so friendly, I like them already. Their banter is everything, I was giggling the whole time. I sense that a great friendship might start between the three of them!

Anyway, Lizzie’s sudden departure doesn’t sit right with me. I think something happened - and that something must be Tommy’s fault.

" Sit down love. He's not the king of England, as much as he'd like to think he is"

Polly my love.

(Y/n)’s chaotic internal monologue when Tommy left was so relatable. Poor girl, she’s a nervous mess - and I love her for that.

" He does possess the ability to get off his royal ass once in a while before summoning us"

Listen I could quote Ada and/or Polly talking shit about Tommy until tomorrow. Again, I just LOVE the way you write dialogues. AND THE FACT ABOUT LITTLE TOMMY ASKING ARTHUR TO CHECK HIS CLOSET FOR GHOSTS - Ada I love you for that.

Tommy seemed so nice and welcoming, and knowing that it’s just a mark makes everything more terrifying. It’s so creepy how good he is at pretending. At the same time, behind his friendliness there’s some kind of shadow, a dark undertone that makes me feel very uneasy. I might’ve said it a thousand times, but your way of writing dark!Tommy never fails to leave me speechless, it’s just amazing. Like the nuances you give him blow my mind.

Now this is off-topic, but can I say I already love Ethel? She makes me cackle every time she opens her mouth. She and Betsy are so chaotic I love them.

THE STALKER THING GAVE ME CHILLS.

" My place is only around the corner and my granddad waits by the window until I'm safely inside. I'll be ok, I promise"

WHY DO YOU HAVE TO BE DUMB? I said it when I read chapter 1 and I’ll say it again, this girl will be the death of me.

Ok so your place wasn't just around the corner. But it was pretty close.

You set the atmosphere so well in the following passage, I was at the edge of my seat. And I was so relieved when the cat appeared. But I have the feeling it’s foreshadowing something…

" Good evening Mr Shelby"

Nevermind.

The part where she realised she was being watched… God, it was so scary. It was horror movie-worth, I almost regret reading this at night - just kidding, this is the best time to read these kind of stories

Just a peeping Tom.

Well it’s definitely a Tom.

Brummie, this was AMAZING. You have a talent for this kind of stories, I’ve been attached to the screen the whole time. What you’re able to create with just the power of words is mind-blowing. I loved every part of this!

PREVIOUS PART MASTERLIST

Don't Fear The Reaper (Part Two/ Dark!Tommy)

Summary: It's September 1923 and your first day working at Shelby Company Limited Offices. Hired by Ada Shelby after the unforseen departure of her brothers previous personal secretary you are yet to meet your new boss, the notorious gangster of Birmingham, Thomas Shelby. But with new beginnings comes new threats, one your colleagues warn you stalks the streets of Small Heath, his recently hushed prescenece still strong enough to keep the women of the towns fearful guard up. And fearful they should be, for he has set his sights on someone new.

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, stalking, obsessive behaviour, supernatural themes, dark romance, manipulation of time, dark!tommy (This is a dark series with heavy potentially triggering undertones, please read the warnings before continuing)

September 1923...

" Thank you for this opportunity Mr Shelby. Fuck, right...Thank you for giving me this position in your...your..." You huffed losing your words as you walked down the cobbled streets in the direction of Shelby Company Limited Offices reciting under your breath what exactly it was you was going to say to the man that had given you a position as a secretary in his offices, the same man you had yet to meet. You couldn't believe your luck when a Miss Ada Shelby entered your granddad's blacksmith a few weeks back in search of his expertise to fix a unusually dented cast iron kettle that she had savaged at an auction, in tow offering you a new leap at life and an opportunity to pave your own way in the world of work. Not only was Miss Ada delightfully charming she was as equally curiously minded as yourself, occupying you with a plethora of questions as to how it was you ended up in Small Heath, or as she lovingly referred to it, a muddied dump of misfits and degenerates. After three cups of tea and a slice of soggy Victoria sponge cake you had made the previous day with more eggs than essentially necessary you both sat in the corner of your grandfather's forge as you nattered the time away, delving into each others lives as she waited for the indenting of her newly cherished kettle. Your own life seemed a far cry to Ada's exciting escapades. Yours being one in search of escape from the unhappy memories of the past and a new meaning to life after the death of most of your family during the war. You knew of the Shelby's through your granddad of course, albeit through the briefest of rundowns of information anyone could have possibly received having lived the majority of their life away from the smoke and factories of Birmingham. The sweetest if not the greatest grandparent life could have bestowed upon you, always concerned for your wellbeing. But a notorious man of very few words. And when he did speak it was in unintelligible riddles, not exactly the most ideal informant in a town as reputable as Small Heath. His exact words in regard to the Shelby's..."They've avoided more time in his majesty's pleasure as far as anyone north of John o' groat's" The gist of it, they're possibly the most hardened criminals in the country well overdue a lengthy stay in the local prison. But they were not just any criminals, they had amassed a wealth and power well beyond what anyone would consider possible. A true embodiment of rags to riches, all at the hands of one mastermind conspirator, Thomas Shelby Ada's brother. The very same brother that happened to be in need of a new secretary for his growing empire. " Thank you for this position as secretary in your Offices Mr Shelby" you said as you looked in the reflection of the buildings window as you straightened your dress out when you felt two hands suddenly rest on your shoulders, shocking you out of the silent ramblings that had taken up space in your overcrowded thoughts.

" No need to rehearse a speech, you've already got the job" Ada said as she spun you around to face her, a friendly smile welcoming you along with a playful wink.

" Shit Ada, you scared me" you replied holding your hand to your chest as you stood before the elegantly dressed Shelby sister.

" Stop fretting would you. Like I said, the jobs all yours, all you have to do now is turn up" she added as she pushed your locks over your shoulder, a smile creasing the corner of her mouth as she took in the endearing effort you had made to look sophisticated yet professional as you entered what was for all intents and purposes a man's world. As Ada once said..." You need a pair of balls and tough skin to work in this field, that and turn blind eye on a daily if now hourly basis. So it's a good thing we have a pair of them just as much as men do, if not a bigger pair"

" I'm not fretting, I just...I don't want to mess this opportunity up, and god knows I've perfected the art of that" you replied turning back to your reflection in the glass window as you pinched your cheeks in attempts to give them a rosier glow and not the washed out colour of little sleep they were currently exhibiting.

" Enough of that" she said swatting your hands away. " Anymore pruning and my brothers well, they'll...well you dont want to know" she trailed off not wanting her new friend getting caught up in their shenanigans. She knew you was serious about the job, and she was intent on you keeping your focus solely on that before one of her three older brothers took it upon themselves to show you the "Good life". " Ready?" she nodded her head to the door as you turned to look at your reflection one last time when something or rather someone caught your eye. Squinting further into the glass your eyes focused in on a woman behind you on the opposite side of the street silently watching you as a man dressed in black stood behind her, his hand cupping her shoulder as he whispered into her ear, both faces blurred by the weathered glass but familiar, eerily familiar. " Y/N?" Ada questioned as you turned around to see that the couple had all but vanished.

" I..I swear I could have just..." you stopped as you turned back to look in the glass, void of anyone else but your own reflection, suddenly feeling like you had been seeing things. Had you been seeing things? "...never mind" you relented as you recomposed yourself, turning your back on whatever tricks your exhausted mind was attempting to deceive you with.

" Come on nervous Nelly" she said with a smile as she opened the door to the offices. "Tommy was quite impressed with your lengthy experience of accounts and single handedly turning your granddad's chaotic paperwork and list of jobs into something more manageable in all but a few weeks" she remarked as you walked ahead of her down the dimly lit corridor, the clicking of your heels on the brick floor resonating through the cramped passage before you suddenly came to a halt at the door.

" Wait, Ada. Tommy, I refer to him as Mr Shelby, right?" You clarified worried you'd become the bumbling newcomer miss naming people before what would be considered socially acceptable.

" Yes, and by god it stays that way" she replied as she pushed the door open and ushered you forward.

"Stays that way? What do you mea..." You replied when Ada scooted behind you, holding you by the arms as she presented you to the three people now staring back at you.

" Alright ladies, this is Y/N. Tommy, Mr Shelby's new secretary" she announced to the room gently nudging you forward into a lion's den of three pairs of beady eyes watching your every move. " Betsy and Ethel" Ada introduced you as you slowly took a step forward feeling like the new kid in school that had been dragged up to the blackboard to recite their whole life in front of a sea of students gawking at you like you were the latest exposition at the circus. " And this is Polly" Ada finished as she perched herself on the edge of her Aunt's desk.

" So you're the new girl " Polly stated looking up from the paperwork in her hand as her eyes bored into you, curiosity further picking her interest as to what it was that brought you to Small Heath, not that she didn't already know everything about you.

" Well I'm glad we found someone new. Lizzie the last girl just upped and left the selfish mare" Ethel huffed as Polly stood up and showed you to your desk, her insistent stare softening into one of pity at your fumbling nervousness and shaky hands. Nobody wants to be the new girl.

" Alright ladies let's not bore her with past office politics" Ada said as she flicked through the file on Polly's desk, her eyes rolling at the mountain of work that had to be done since Lizzie's impromptu departure.

" Just saying, she could have given us the courtesy of letting us know in a timely manner she was leaving before dumping the shit tonne of bloody work on us she hadn't bothered to effing finish"

" My Ethel, for a moment there I thought you'd turned a page and stopped using every profanity known to man each time you opened your mouth to speak" Polly said arching her brow with a small smirk of amusement on the corner of her lips when the door opened at what you could only assume was your boss came storming through with two men following behind, the youngest eyeing you up with a tooth pick in his mouth that looked dangerously close to making it's way down his throat.

" Ethel" the youngest winked in her direction, a cheeky grin dimpling his face as you abruptly bolted up from your seat expecting to go through the formalities of greeting your new boss.

" Sit down love. He's not the king of England, as much as he'd like to think he is" Polly said gently pushing on your shoulder as your slumped back down into your seat, your face filling with embarrassment at your blundering display of readiness.

" New secretary ay?" Arthur said quietly to his brother as he strode beside him, one hand causally sitting in his trouser pocket jostling his loose change around as the other smoothed down the edges of his moustache.

" Good luck getting any work done with that distraction" John commented under his breath their way as he walked ahead, his brothers words enough to lure Tommy's attention and finally look in your direction. Don't fuck this up Y/N, don't fuck this up... you mentally mumbled to yourself as his stare lingered on you for an uncustomary amount of time before a hushed comment to his brothers left his lips and a burst of sniggers and laughter ensued from within the office as he closed the door. Fuck sake, did you have something on your face? Did you look like a child trying to play with the big boys? It was when you stood for attention like a complete idiot wasn't it? Shit.

" Don't mind twiddle dee, twiddle dum and god knows whatever John is" the matriarch to family quickly put your mind to rest as she nodded her head to Tommy's office. A pretty face had captured their attention and they were no doubt doing what men do best, being dicks, or rather thinking with their dicks... Polly thought to herself as she mentally took note to remind her three nephews to refrain themselves from looking like complete immature prats the next time they were in the presence of the fairer sex.

It had been an hour since the start of the working day and Polly had busied you with the back log of work that needed to be done. An easy task of copying and correcting copious amounts of files onto the typewriter. A tiresome but welcome distraction from the impending meeting you was yet to have with your new boss. That was until a loud voice sounded through the building capturing your otherwise distracted attention.

"Ada, bring the new girl in" Tommy called out from behind his desk.

" Does he have to shout like that?" She commented with an irritated huff as she turned back to her Aunt. " He does possess the ability to get off his royal ass once in a while before summoning us" she grumbled ignoring her brother as she turned her attention back to signing the document in front of her.

" Ada!"

" Jesus bloody Christ!" she huffed once again as she stood up, throwing her pen on her desk as she turned back to face you with a sympathetic smile at the one of many joyous personality traits of her brother you had just witnessed and undoubtedly would encounter again. Straightening the creases out of your dress you stood up in a hurry as your two giggling colleagues, Ethel and Betsy eyes followed your flustered state. " Hey" Ada said holding you by your elbow before you both entered the office. " If I was to tell you that when he was a boy he'd make Arthur religiously check for ghosts in his wardrobe every night before going to sleep would that make you less nervous?" She asked with a mischievous smile on the corner of her lips as your own face that had been taut with anxiety finally relaxed after hearing that despite his intimidating presence your new boss was human after all.

" Miss Y/L/N" Tommy greeted you as he stubbed his cigarette out into the glass ash tray on his sprawling wooden desk. " It is Miss, no?" He clarified as you nodded your head in response, the rolling of Ada's eyes not going unmissed by her brother as he strode towards you.

" It's a pleasure to meet you Mr Shelby"

" Tommy, you can call me Tommy. First name basis seems appropriate since we'll be working so closely together. Wouldn't you agree Y/N?" He said with a soft smile that caught the corner of his lips as Ada stood behind you shaking her head in disapproval at her brother's inability to keep things professional with anyone he had suddenly taken a liking to." Thank you Ada, you can leave"

" Not even one full bloody day" she mumbled under her breath crossing her arms as she sauntered out the room, hoping to high heavens that you had your wits about you.

" Please, take a seat " Tommy gestured to the chair in front of his desk as he hitched his trousers up and sat down, his elbow resting on the arm of the chair as he watched you pull nervously at the ends of your sleeved dress. It may have only been a mere two minutes, but the silence was deafening one he seemed comfortable with whereas you could barely stand it. Was he waiting for you to speak?... you thought to yourself as you brain scrambled to come up with something to say. " I was..."

"I want to thank you for..." you replied wide-eyed realising you had cut him off, your cheeks going an embarrassing shade of your less than favourite root vegetable, beetroot. " I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt"

" Go on, you was saying " he replied gesturing with his hand as he lent back into his chair, watching as you rolled your thumb along the inside collar of your dress, easing the pressure of its tightness from your heated skin and the sweat that had gathered there from the nervousness enveloping you.

" I want to thank you for this opportunity, Mr Shelby...Tommy. I'm a hard worker and I will do my up most to fulfill your every expectation of what a secretary should be" you said as you looked up from your fidgeting hands.

" I don't doubt you will" he replied as another small silence descended on the room and you watched as he ran the side of his forefinger across his bottom lip back and forth, his eyes remaining locked on you as your own darted to anything but him. God, was he always this intense? This was a test, wasn't it? He was trying to see if you'd crack under pressure, under the pressure this job would undoubtedly demand, right? "I was quite impressed with your resume" he suddenly remarked shocking you out of the endless questions ticking in your brain as he picked up your file and came to sit on the edge of the desk next to you, his knee pressed against your outer thigh as he flicked though the folder. " Five years working as an accountant and assistant for Lembroch and Co in North London" he said closing the folder, dropping it In front of you on the mahogany wood. " Now that is some endurance. Anyone who has spent working half a decade for that grumpy old bastard has my sympathy" he smiled to you as you welcomed the ease in tension with a small laugh and smile of you own. " But enough of that, tell me about yourself Y/N' he asked as he reached into his pocket pulling out a silver case of cigarettes and offering you one.

" I'm afraid there's not much to say" you smiled as your hand reached to pull out a neatly coiled cylinder of tobacco from within the case, the tips of your fingers briefly grazing against his as you made your choice.

" I dunno about that" he replied as he leaned down igniting the lighter, watching as the orange glow cast a shadow on your plump lips as you cupped the flame. " Try me" he said as he flicked the lid of the lighter down in one single snap, watching as you inhaled the fumes and your eyes relaxed with satisfaction at the welcome relief.

" Well..." You said as you rubbed you thumb over the filter, clearing your throat as your eyes darted between him and the wall behind him, completely unprepared for his question. Did he not trust you? Surely he already knew everything about you considering his line of work and the importance of hiring workers he could rely on? And he did, all but the smaller things only you yourself could tell him, things he now wanted to know since having met you, seen you. "I've lived most of my life in London, down by..." You continued telling your life story up until the present day as Tommy impatiently smoked his way down to the end of his cigarette already knowing everything you had told him, everything but what he really wanted to know. Only one small matter he needed to clear up...for his own peace of mind of course.

" And what do you do in your spare time, you have friends here, a boyfriend?" he questioned his eyes darting down to your lips parting in surprise at the casual tone in question.

" Oh erm no, I've haven't been in Birmingham long enough" you replied taking one last drag of the cigarette between your fingers before resting it on the edge of the ash tray in front of you.

" Don't have a sweetheart waiting for you back in London then?"

" No. I don't need any distractions" you replied confidently, convinced he was trying to gauge how serious you was about the job in hand.

" Distractions eh? Is that what you ladies are calling us these days. I beg to differ, I'd be more inclined to say it's the other way around" he chuckled raising his brows as he watched the corners of your lips crinkle into a smile. "Well, you'll soon make friends here. My sisters already pretty fond of you, and I'm sure we'll all quickly follow in her sentiments" he said standing from the desk as you followed.

" I won't let you down Tommy" you said opening the door as he nodded in acknowledgement, watching the bottom of your dress sway back and forth with each step you took as you walked away.

" Now that I can believe" he quietly commented under his breath as he shut the door and walked over to his desk, his head tilting mischievously at your cigarette still burning in the glass tray. Resting it between his fingers Tommy sat down in his chair, slouching back as he rubbed his thumb over the stain your lipstick had left from your full lips. Raising it to his mouth Tommy took a long drag as he closed his eyes, his head resting on the back of his leather upholstered chair as he welcomed his own satisfaction. Satisfaction from what, or rather in finding what?

" Jesus fuck, it's getting cold and dark again" Ethel said as she wrapped her coat around her body as you and Betsy huddled next to her hopping from one foot to the other as you passed the cigarette around between the three of you, hoping it would warm you even if it was for the briefest of seconds as you stood outside the offices at the end of the day.

" Ethel Davis! Polly's right, you'd give any sailor a run for his money with your potty mouth" she reprimanded as a small giggle escaped your lips at their constant playful ribbing of eachother" And you're no better" she said turning to face you as Ethel grinned with amusement." You need a trip to confession following the string of profanities that left your mouth after your encounter with that typewriter" she laughed as she looked down at your hands and the black ink dotted all over them.

" I hate those bloody things" you huffed at the unfortunate event or fortunate to those in the office that burst into a fit of laughter at your flustered state as you wrangled with the ink that needed changing in your typewriter earlier that day.

" Ladies" Tommy said fixing his peak cap on as he walked out the door passing the three of you huddled together from the change in season. "Y/N" he added sending you a small smile that you eagerly mirrored before quickly catching your self and reigning in your overly friendly pleasantries before your own ribbing from your two colleagues began.

" Tommy already is it?" Ethel giggled as you turned around to face them.

" Don't you call him Tommy?" You asked scrunching your brow as you passed the cigarette to her.

" Not after one bloody day!" Ethel laughed taking a drag as she shuffled on her feet.

" Even now after two years of working for him he still corrects me" Betsy added as she rolled her eyes at the already fully smoked cigarette handed to her. " Ethel! I only had two puffs"

" Owh I'm sorry, I'm just so buggering cold!" she apologised dramatically as she put her arm around her friend. " Think he might already have a soft spot for you babe, you poor thing" she grinned as she hugged further into her friends fur coat, both of them now smiling at you like two annoying Cheshire cats.

" He's just being nice is all" you shrugged pushing a stone into the muddied ground with the tip of your shoe.

" If you do cosy up to him can you persuade him to spare us poor workers some extra time off?" Ethel teased as you shook your head, a friendly laugh of disbelief on your part as you turned to leave for home.

" Y/ n wait. Don't..don't you want us to walk with you?" Betsy said grabbing your arm as she suddenly scanned the area and anybody nearby.

" I'll be ok, I'll see you two tomorrow" you replied sending her smile when her grip on your arm tightened, restricting you from leaving without her.

" Y/N! It's not safe" Betsy insisted as you watched a sudden wave of panic wash over her face.

" It's alright Betsy, there's been no talk of it for a while now" Ethel gently reassured her friend as she removed her hand from you.

" Talk of what?" You questioned as you watched Ethel hush Betsy's worries and the tears now streaking her frightened face.

" Fuck, you don't know do you? You won't catch a single woman in Small Heath walking by herself when it's dark out" Ethel replied, realising you had no knowledge of the dealings the women of Small Heath had endured for the past six months.

" But why?"

" There's been a man following..."

" Say it right Betsy. Stalking. He's been fucking stalking" Ethel corrected her as your eyes widened at the unexpected information.

" Nothings happened yet so don't go and worry yourself on it too much" Betsy dispelled your fears in response to your sudden reaction.

" Other than that girl that ended up in the cut a few months back" Ethel commented under her breath as Betsy's head snapped to her.

" She fell Ethel. Stop telling tales!" Betsy said in attempts to reassure everyone only in the end realising she was trying to ease her own fears.

" Either way, he won't be getting me" Ethel said in a hushed voice as she lifted up her skirt pulling a small knife from within her boot.

" Please, let us walk with you" Betsy pleaded one last time as she reached for your hand.

" My place is only around the corner and my granddad waits by the window until I'm safely inside. I'll be ok, I promise" you assured her, not fully convinced her concerns were enough to even fret over. You was from London, encountering the unwanted happened on a weekly If not daily occurrence. You was street wise, or at least you thought you was.

" Ok...but you scream bloody murder if anyone even dares approach you, alright? There's enough police surveying this dump to hear you and come running" she said giving you a quick hug before she huddled up to Ethel from the cold again as they both watched you walk into the night.

Was this the plight of the women of Small Heath? Living in fear at the simple act of walking home. They were of strong stock, endured and lived through so many hardships with a fearless attitude. But this, this scared them.

Ok so your place wasn't just around the corner. But it was pretty close. You just didn't want them to worry...you thought to yourself as you headed for one of the bridges that hovered over the street , an uneasy feeling suddenly settling in your stomach as you stopped yourself from stepping another foot forward whilst you eyed up the overpass. You was thinking too much about it, Ethel and Betsy's worries had found their way into the very corner of your brain you had kept under lock and key since the war. You had passed under the same bridge countless times before, even later at night than it currently was...you reasoned with yourself as you started walking toward the bricked archway, your eyes solely fixed on the opposite side were the welcome dim hue of a street light ushered you forward into safety. Just a few more feet you reassured yourself as you clutched your hand bag into your side when you came to a halt and your eyes frantically widened at the dark shadow being cast on the wall inside the bridge. " I'll...I'll scream" you said aloud rather than the action itself Betsy had encouraged you to do into the night, silent to the empty street but you and whoever was lurking behind the wall. " Please, I don't want no trouble" you sobbed quietly as your bottom lip wobbled in response to the sudden surge of fear overtaking your body, feeling like at any moment your legs would buckle and give out when the large shadow grew two fold. How could you have been so brazen to think you could handle the treacherous darkness of Small Heath alone?...you cried to yourself as you took a step back when the heal of your shoe kicked a stone into the gutter beside you, the shadow now overtaking the entire wall in response as you lost your balance and fell backwards. "Fuck!" You breathed heavily, your heart rapidly pounding in your chest as you looked up at the starry sky shaking your head not only in relief but amusement. " You bloody scared me, you know that?" you said catching your breath as you stood up wiping the grit from your palms, picking out the minute stones that had managed to wedge their way into your skin as you eyed up the black cat in your path. " Not the luckiest thing to come across are you?" you said as you knelt down to stroke his head as he brushed up against your leg " But Luckier than whatever my brain was conjuring up" you said with a small smile as you stood up heading for home, mentally remembering to not let yourself be fooled again by silly gossip that for all you knew could be the result of the very black cat you had just encountered.

" Good evening Mr Shelby" a older man said tipping his hat in Tommy's direction as the black coated gangster blew a cloud of smoke into the crisp air, briefly acknowledging the gentleman's presence before returning his gaze back to what had been his sole focus for the past half hour. Stood across the street in the shadow of the brick wall he watched the golden glow from the upstairs window dance in front of his view as the woman he had been watching walked back and forth within her bedroom, finally coming to a stop in front of the small mirror sitting on the edge of the windowsill. Tommy watched intently as she gracefully collected her hair to one side into one large lock, brushing her fingers through the ends as she leaned in closer to her reflection. She was not like the others, he mused as he watched the sleeve from her nightgown fall from the curve of her shoulder, his lips parting at the enticing movement that only exposed more of her delicate skin that was beckoning him to her. Why would she leave her curtains open if she didn't want him to see he smirked as he stepped further into the darkness shielding his statue as a group of young men passing a bottle of whisky around walked by, their drunken boisterousness capturing both his and her attention and all but ruining the moment he has lost himself in. Throwing his cigarette to the ground Tommy turned on the heel of his boot into the dark of the alley way as his coat glided around the brick wall back into the cover of night.

" Alright up there?" Your granddad called down from the bottom of the stairs at the sudden noise of your mirror that was precariously leaning against your window came crashing down onto the wooden floors, shattering into hundreds of shards at the brisk movement of you closing your curtains.

" Yes, everything... everything's fine. Just being clumsy as usual" you said sitting on the edge of your bed, your hands either side of the plump mattress steadying yourself as a surge of panic rapidly scrambled up your throat at not only the seven years of bad luck you had just brought upon yourself but what you was sure you just saw. It was only for the briefest of seconds but you saw him, his face masked by the darkness of the night but the glint of his signet ring captured by the moonlight like the spark of a flame as he turned the corner making his presence known. He'd been watching you. An innocent bystander, or at worst just a peeping Tom...you quickly reassured yourself turning your bed stand light off as hurried to be under the comfort of your warm bed, your only true comfort for the night. Just a peeping Tom. Oh how those very words would come back to haunt you. An unchangeable string of a events had started, threatening not only your life but your very soul.

NEXT PART

Tag list: @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @prettywhenicry4 @smayhem49-blog @pacifymebby @indierockgirrl @globetrotter28

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hikari-kaitou · 3 years ago

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Capcom’s Official AA Fanclub Surveys - Main Series Edition

Naturally, Capcom’s official AA fanclub site didn't only post surveys about the DGS characters; they published far more of them about the main series characters. It makes sense, as they started the trend before the DGS series had even been conceived.

Back in the old days, they used to hold a survey on Capcom’s official AA fansite every few months where they’d write about the seasonal activities of a handful of characters and ask fans to vote for the funniest/most pleasant/strangest/etc answer.

They stopped doing them in like… 2016? 2017? The original text is lost for good as far as I can tell. Even the wayback machine couldn’t help because the content was password locked and you can’t get past the password wall while remaining in the archived version.

Fortunately, I saved some of my translations of them so I thought I’d share them. Unfortunately, I was doing these translations very casually and only intended to share them with two of my close friends at the time when I did them, so some of them are just summaries rather than proper translations, and I tended to only focus on characters that we personally were interested in or scenarios that we thought were funny or interesting. That means there are parts missing, and because I didn't expect the original text to be wiped off the site I didn't save it so I could go back and fill in the blanks. Sorry about that...

Cut for length!

"Spring is on its way and each of the AA cast members spent their day off in different ways. Who's way of spending their day off sounds the most pleasant?"

Phoenix- he finished unpacking his moving boxes and sorting his seasonal clothing. While he was packing away his ugly pink sweater and such, he happened across the complete works of Shakespeare at the bottom of one of the boxes, got completely absorbed in reading, and ended up abandoning his unpacking.

Mia- She went shopping at a department store for a new summer suit. On her way, she coincidentally ran into Maya, who was on her way to the agency to hang out, but then at some point Maya vanished. Mia tried calling her cell phone but she didn't answer. "Don't tell me she's lost at her age," Mia thought, and began to search for her. She found Maya transfixed by a rooftop Steel Samurai show. It seems that she was both exasperated and relieved.

Maya- she tagged along on Mia's shopping trip, but the second she spied a poster for a rooftop Steel Samurai show, she made a beeline for the roof. She got into a cheering battle with a mean-looking elementary school boy and really enjoyed the show. When the show was over, she reunited with an exasperated looking Mia. She gleefully led Mia to a burger restaurant so they could eat some burgers together.

Edgeworth- he treated himself to a drive along the coast in his red sports car... Well, that was the plan, but then he was pushed by his mentor Von Karma into being the driver for his shopping trip. As a reward for his service, he received a brand new Von Karma style, stylish and flashy summer suit.

Then there's Larry, who dragged Phoenix to a café to hit on its hot owner, and the judge who bought a wig.

"Apollo, Fulbright, Edgeworth, Klavier and Kristoph made visits to a nursery school near the courthouse. Which of them did the most pleasant activity with the children?"

Apollo acted out the story of the “Crying Red Ogre” for the children. Phoenix played the part of the blue ogre, and Apollo was the red ogre, and Apollo’s wailing moved the children to tears too. In a panic over all the crying, they got Trucy to cheer them up with a magic trick in which she made Apollo disappear.

Fulbright: He came dressed in a blinding white costume to teach the children about justice and put on a play. The children gave him thunderous applause... But when Jinxie, who had been forced to play the part of the heroine, saw Fulbright, she thought he was the ghost of an army general, got scared, and slapped a charm on his face.

Edgeworth and Gumshoe: He and Gumshoe were going to reenact the story of Kintarou (an old Japanese fairytale). Franziska handed Edgeworth the Kintarou costume she’d designed (If you've seen Ghibli's Spirited Away, recall what Bou, the giant baby, wears. That's what we're talking about here). Edgeworth fearfully asked “You... expect me to wear this...?” Gumshoe, who had painted his whole body black to play the role of a bear, told him “Of course, sir! It doesn’t fit me!” and shoved Edgeworth out on stage in it. Edgeworth quickly began to reconsider Gumshoe’s salary for next month.

Klavier and Kristoph: Kristoph started giving a boring lecture on the importance of law, and the kids were getting antsy. Seeing this, Klavier came over with his guitar to liven things up, performing a rock style arrangement of the “The Bear Went Over The Mountain". But then he threw in the unnecessary comment of “If any of you scratch the frets of my guitar, I’ll be suing for damage of property, ok?” And they both ended up getting kicked out.

"This survey is about who knows how to enjoy a sunny day at Gourd Lake the best"

Simon: To give Taka some exercise, Blackquill took him and Fulbright (who was on guard duty) out for some falconry. Things were going well until Taka heard something about this mysterious creature “Gourdy,” freaked out, flew into the little shop selling Gourdy merchandise and started making a huge mess. Blackquill and Fulbright gathered Taka up in a panic and hightailed it out of there as fast as they could.

Edgeworth had seen Phoenix home and on his way back passed by Gourd Lake. Just as he was starting to get bad flashbacks... he happened to hear Larry in the middle of a flirting attempt and got dragged in. The woman he was trying to put the moves on was a foreigner, and she and Edgeworth started chatting in her native language. Larry couldn’t understand and was annoyed that Edgeworth was apparently moving in on his target, so he sulked and blew up at Edgeworth.

Athena tried to play matchmaker for Apollo and Juniper, so she told them to meet her in the forest near Gourd Lake so that they would run into each other there and hopefully hit it off. Juniper got there first, expecting to find Athena, but when Apollo showed up, she panicked and hid behind a tree. While she was trying to gather her nerve to go talk to him, he wandered off and she lost sight of him.

Phoenix was at the park and he got caught by Larry who was doing his part time job of selling Samurai Dogs. Larry saw a pretty lady that he wanted to flirt with so he asked Phoenix to mind the shop while he was gone. Business was slow, so he called in all the WAA members to put their full range of skills to use. They seem to have managed to sell them all!

Gumshoe took Missile for a walk in the park. They stopped for a rest and Gumshoe fell asleep, so Missile slipped out of his collar and ran over to where the Samurai Dogs were being sold. He ate them all without Phoenix noticing. Phoenix handed things back over to Larry when he got back and Larry got in huge trouble for losing so much product.

"This survey is talking about how the cast spent their Valentines Day"

Trucy gave Polly chocolate for himself and some for Klavier and asked Apollo to give it to him for her. Klavier wasn’t in court when Apollo went to look for him, though, so he and Phoenix went to the prosecutors’ office together with their chocolate. On their way, though, Apollo found himself getting a lot of strange looks from Themis Legal Academy students.

Ema gave some chocolates to Phoenix to give to Edgeworth because she suddenly got called to a crime scene. Phoenix headed over to the prosecutors’ office but Edgeworth was in court and wasn’t there, so Phoenix waited out in front of the prosecutors’ office with this flashy, girly looking bag of chocolates. Edgeworth’s trial ended up going a long time and Phoenix got a lot of stares as he waited.

Edgeworth was hit by a pollen-filled spring breeze on his way back to the office and suddenly his eyes got all red and itchy and he was left sneezing and sniffling. Phoenix came to talk to him and got quite a surprise when he saw the state Edgeworth’s face was in. The chocolates Ema gave him were in the shape of the Steel Samurai and they made Edgeworth so pleased that it seemed to ease his suffering a little.

Flower Viewing:

Phoenix and Apollo go to the park early to hold flower viewing spots for the WAA members. They see some people from around town that they know who ask them to hold their spots while they go and grab this or that. Phoenix and Apollo do their best to hold those people’s spots and in the process lose their own. They end up begging Edgeworth to let them share his and Klavier’s spot.

White Day:

Because of his painful memories about Valentine’s Day from elementary school, he doesn’t like Valentine’s Day or White Day that much. As a return gift to his beloved daughter, he gave her painstakingly handmade magic panty shaped chocolates. Apparently he forced the ones that didn’t turn out on Edgeworth...

Klavier was holding a ladies only concert, which he invited Trucy to. Phoenix was worried about letting Trucy be out at night by herself, so he sent Apollo along in disguise (as a woman!!). But Klavier saw through Apollo’s disguise easily and to Apollo’s horror, called him up on stage.

Autumn/Moon Viewing:

Phoenix, Edgeworth and Larry went to collect chestnuts together. Larry was too focused on looking for chestnuts and not watching where he was going and fell down the mountain slope. Phoenix had tried to catch Larry but he ended up falling too and spraining his ankle slightly. Edgeworth had to carry Phoenix on his back down the mountain.

Apollo went moon viewing with the rest of the WAA. It turned out into kind of an office party and Apollo had drink after drink while assuring everyone that “I’m fine!” but ended up getting pretty hammered. He proceeded to pass out and Phoenix took care of him.

Obon Festival:

Klavier performed a bonfire festival dance version of the Guitar’s Serenade at the summer festival and Apollo provided the taiko drum backup. He filled the gaps in the taiko drumming with his chords of steel, and it was a very energetic bonfire dance.

Edgeworth noticed the festival going on on his way home from work and decided to have a look. He saw Phoenix selling Samurai Dogs and desperately wanted one, but couldn’t bear the thought of Phoenix finding out that he was a Steel Samurai fan. He hemmed and hawed in front of the festival stall, trying to decide whether to buy one, but they sold out before he could make up his mind.

Phoenix went to the festival with Maya. Larry, who was working the Samurai Dog stand, called them over and forced them to watch the stand while he made a booty call. Phoenix and Maya’s manzai comedy duo style vocal advertising was so successful that they quickly sold out.

Christmas:

Phoenix, Trucy, Athena, Apollo and Pearl all spent the night at the office after their party wrapped up. Phoenix put presents next to the kids' pillows during the night.

Edgeworth grumbled about having to play Santa but dressed up anyway and snuck in at night to bring the younger ones at Phoenix's office some presents. He accidentally ends up sneaking into Phoenix’s room instead.

Apollo wanted to be a good big brother to Trucy and Pearl, so he snuck into their rooms to leave gifts but tripped over something, let out a Chords of Steel volume shout as he fell and ruined the surprise/

Klavier, as a favor to Trucy, snuck in dressed as a Visual Kei style Santa, but he announced his arrival with a rock arrangement of Santa Claus is Coming to Town and got caught and kicked out.

Blackquill had to make a jailbreak in order to play Santa, was chased down and Phoenix woke to find the police surrounding his office.

DGS Edition

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isfjmel-phleg · 2 years ago

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August 2022 Books

The month I read War and Peace...and a bunch of comic books. I have a Range.

Actually, both of those were way out of my comfort zone.

The Ghosts by Antonia Barber

Middle-grade time-slip novel from the 1960s, with a surprising amount of depth despite the standard Victorian Children In Peril From An Evil Guardian angle.

Katie John and Depend on Katie John by Mary Calhoun (reread)

I needed something less heavy to read in the evenings before bed and picked up these, which I read as a child. Early 1960s slice-of-life shenanigans with a memorable young heroine.

The Night Watchmen by Helen Cresswell

...I honestly have no idea what was going on with this one. The prose was good, but I struggled with suspension of disbelief (why exactly is our young protagonist so drawn to these two random old guys?) and not actually caring about the mystery, which wasn't well-explained in the end.

The Family from One End Street by Eve Garnett

Slice-of-life story featuring a large working-class family in Sussex in the 1930s. Misadventures and trying to make ends meet, very charming.

A Sprinkle of Sorcery by Michelle Harrison

I've noticed a pattern with many recent middle-grade novels with sequels--I might enjoy the first book, but then the second just...doesn't do anything for me? This one was one of those cases. It felt less grounded and more contrived than A Pinch of Magic, which could have worked well as a stand-alone.

Kate and Hey World, Here I Am! by Jean Little

Little gives her young characters such depth and isn't afraid to tackle complicated issues like religion (e. g. navigating an inter-faith friendship, struggling to find and connect to one's own beliefs in a family of mixed backgrounds). Kate, who was a supporting character in the first book of this series, transitions well to the role of protagonist/narrator, and I enjoyed reading "her" poetry collected in Hey World, Here I Am!

A Swarm in May by William Mayne

I think I would have got a lot more out of this one if I were more versed in the intricacies of British choir schools in the 1950s--which were very different from the typical boarding schools I'm more familiar with from other stories. The characters had interest, but I just had no idea what was going on most of the time, which is not the book's fault.

The Complete Polly and the Wolf by Catherine Storr

By the author of Marianne Dreams, which is a great favorite of mine. This collection of stories is very different from that one. They're humorous tales about a clever little girl who always manages to outwit the not terribly bright wolf who follows her around with the intention of eating her. Think Looney Tunes, but British, with more emphasis on wit than slapstick. There's also the hilarity of there being a talking wolf on the loose in 1950s London and everyone just...sort of accepts this without question?

War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy

It was very long.

I liked it! Couldn't really follow Tolstoy's digressions into Opinions and Theories, but the story itself was interesting and the characters well-drawn.

The Lark in the Morn by Elfrida Vipont

Another story set at a British school for music. The Quaker background of the school and the central family was interesting, and I was intrigued by the young protagonist's relationship with an unconventional elderly relative, but I think I was lacking a lot of cultural and musical context that might have helped, and despite the family tree at the beginning, it was hard to keep track of what seemed like an unnecessarily large and complicated family (for the size of the book).

The Amazing Vacation by Dan Wickenden

Began with promise but devolved into standard mid-twentieth-century children's fantasy tropes without much to make it stand out, although the Fretful Porpentine was a memorable character.

In their own section and not in alphabetical order because I think this requires explanation:

DC Comics Presents: Impulse #1 and Mercury Falling by Todd Dezago

I read the latter as context for Danielle's fic and loved it enough to want more of the characters. The former is a collection of the issues that introduce a central character in Mercury Falling. Thad and Bart and their dynamic are fascinating, and there's a lot more emphasis on character and relationships than I would expect from this genre.

Impulse: Reckless Youth and Flash/Impulse: Runs in the Family by Mark Waid

I would love to read the entire run of the Impulse series, but these collections and the above seem to be the only ones appearing in print (aside from individual issues, which are harder and more expensive to track down). These only go as far as #12, but it's still a good sampling, and the characterization is quite good. Bart Allen has a surprising amount of depth and nuance; the issue in which he suspects a friend is a victim of child abuse and the one in which he's struggling to cope with the unexpected loss of his speed and the illness of his mentor are particularly poignant.

There's also quite a difference in the relationship between Bart and Max, his mentor/eventual father figure in these earlier issues and what it becomes by the time of the Mercury Falling arc. At that point, the two of them are warm and affectionate and mutually appreciative, but the earlier issues show them still struggling to get used to each other, with Bart being difficult and resentful (and violent, in one case!) and Max snarking at him and being parental but more emotionally distant. So there's evident growth in this series!

Young Justice: A League of Their Own and Sins of Youth by Peter David

The first volume has very entertaining character dynamics! I especially loved the conversation the kids have around their campfire, asking the question of whether, given the chance, they would choose to be "normal," to give up the vigilante life. There's a variety of views. Tim Drake gives an impassioned speech about how he'd give it all up in a heartbeat, because the only condition when he would be able to do so would be if crime were eradicated.

And Bart's response when asked? "I don't understand the question. I am normal. It's the rest of the world that's weird."

I think I would have got more out of the Sins of Youth volume if I had more background in the vast array of characters crossed over here, but there were some stand-out character moments, like an aged-up Bart's conversation with Max, and an aged-up Tim stopping off at a bar to talk with his dad, who doesn't recognize him.

More complete volumes of the series are on request, so we'll see where this goes.

#random personal stuff #right on time this month and I am not stressing myself out about it this time

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gunterfan1992 · 4 years ago

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Episode Review: ‘Together Again’ (Distant Lands, Ep. 3)

Airdate: May 20, 2021

Story by: Jack Pendarvis, Kate Tsang, Hanna K. Nyström, Christina Catucci, Jesse Moynihan, Adam Muto

Storyboarded by: Hanna K. Nyström, Anna Syvertsson, Iggy Craig, Maya Petersen, Serena Wu

Directed by: Miki Brewster (supervising), Sandra Lee (art)

Across Adventure Time’s ten season run, the show explored a bevy of “mature” themes and story ideas—topics, like love, sexuality, depression, and grieving. The show also touched upon death, but the emphasis was usually placed on the emotional toll of a loved one dying, not really what happens when you die. We knew there were Dead Worlds and Death. We knew that there was reincarnation. But how does it all fit together? What does it mean? How does it work?

With “Together Again,” we finally have many of the answers.

This special opens with a marvelous fake-out episode simply called “Finn & Jake,” that sees the two steal a magical cartoon of 50-flavor ice cream before rescuing Turtle Princess and LSP from the clutches of the villainous Ice King. This is all deliberately anachronistic and over the top. Ice King is back to his season one ways, Finn has both arms, and he is still wielding his golden sword that he lost in season two’s “The Real You.” There’s lolrandom dialogue and silly monsters; it’s like a parody of seasons 1-2. But then, this adventure starts to get all wonky, and in time Finn realizes that he is in a some sort of trance or illusion: one that ends with Jake being buried in the ground. Suddenly, Finn awakens from his reverie. He’s an old man. And he’s dead. We’re then presented with a new title card that lets us know the episode is actually called “Finn & Jake Are Dead.”

Holy Glob! They actually went there.

Turns out Jake died years before Finn, so naturally Finn is super excited to see his best bud. But something’s wrong—he cannot find Jake!! They planned to spend eternity together. But all that Finn can find is his very own psychopomp, Mr. Fox (voiced by Tom Herpich, whose purposefully stilted line readings are the epitome of delightful). Finn rightfully assumes that Jake is in a different Dead World, and so, being the ball of spunk and energy that he is, he demands to meet with Death, only to discover that there’s a New Death in town (voiced by Chris Fleming). The episode eventually explains that New Death was the son of Death and Life, and after New Death killed his father, he became the sovereign of the afterlife. New Death hates his job and decides to just blow up all the Dead Worlds so he doesn’t have to deal with it all. (I won’t get too much into the details here, because there would be a lot of story to parse out.)

Finn soon learns that Jake has reached nirvana in the 50th Dead World, where there is nothing but peace and serenity. Finn nevertheless tracks down Jake, pulls him from paradise, but in doing so, accidentally lets New Death in, who promptly obliterates Elysium, sending all the enlightened souls—including those from different levels of the afterlife—to the 1st Dead World. This gronks up the afterlife, temporarily halting the reincarnation process.

Well, Finn and Jake are rightfully ticked, and so they haunt the material plane looking for Princess Bubblegum. She’s not home (more on that later), but Peppermint Butler is! After Ghost Finn and Ghost Jake explain the situation, Peppermint Butler tells them what to do: They need to find Life and explain the situation. The duo manage just that, and Life is rightfully angry that her kid has stopped the transmigration of souls. After Life gives Finn a McGuffin sword that can hurt Death, Finn and Jake return to his abode. A brawl ensues wherein we learn that New Death has been possessed… by none other than that spirit of the Lich.

That’s right, it’s the Lich! He’s back, and boy is he evil.

The Lich explains that by possessing Death, he can destroy the afterlife, thereby destroying a key aspect of reality. Naturally, Finn and Jake are not cool with this, and they engage in combat. After Mr. Fox grabs the McGuffin sword and uses it to annihilate the Lich and New Death, he is proclaimed the New New Death and sets everything right. Finn is slated to be reincarnated, and Jake is slated to return to the 50th Dead World where he and Finn will one day be reunited. As Finn is pulled into the wheel of souls, Jake suddenly decides to go back with Finn, too, “Just for fun.” The episode ends with a card letting us know that the episode is neither called “Finn & Jake” nor “Finn & Jake Are Dead.” Instead, it is “Finn and Jake Are Together Again.”

As they say, “And there wasn’t a dry eye in the place.”

If you were to tell me several years ago that the last episode to star Finn and Jake would revolve around them dying, I think I would’ve been upset. Not simply sad, but rather frustrated because “they all died” can feel like a cheap ending. But with “Together Again,” it all works. And a large reason that it works is because the show goes all in with their ideas. Finn and Jake don’t magically leap back into their old life (no, no, they very much do bite the dust). Instead, the special emphasizes the cyclical nature of life through the transmigration of souls. The episode ends with a beautiful scene of Finn and Jake, bound together as soul-brothers, being reborn into a new, mysterious (possibly Ooo 1000+?) world. It’s both aesthetically and emotionally pleasing; it doesn’t feel off the way over finales might. This is right. This is the way life works. “Round and round as nature goes,” and all that jazz.

I loved the series explanation of how death works. It seems that souls land in a specific Dead World, where they ‘marinate’ for a bit, presumably being rewarded or punished based on their life in our meat reality. After a time, they are then reborn. This process repeats, with each soul reaching higher and higher levels of enlightenment until they hit nirvana, which is the 50th Dead World. So in a sense, Adventure Time has a roughly Buddhist cosmology with a dash of Greco-Roman mythos thrown in for flavor. (As to what happens after a soul stays in the 50th Dead World for a long period is anyone’s guess, but I’d speculate that when all the souls in the multiverse have been purified and land in the 50th Dead World, they will all collapse into one another and form one perfect Monad. Perhaps this is the sphere of perfection that the beings who merged into Matthew thought they were connecting to? Who knows! It’s anyone’s guess!) I was a little disappointed that we didn’t get to see who Death, Prismo, Life, etc.’s boss was, but perhaps that’s a mystery better left up to the imagination!

One minor thing that I loved about this special was the number of characters who made cameos as well as all the callbacks that were made to previous episodes. Regarding the former: Finn and Jake’s canine family show up (including the oft-forgotten Jermaine!), as do Tree Trunks and her myriad husbands. Tiffany plays a major role in all these shenanigans as a “death cop” of all things. There is a delightful rogues gallery stuck in the 1st Dead World (including, among others, Maja, Sharon from “The Gut Grinder,” and Wyatt). In the 50th we find Ghost Princess and Clarence happily at peace next to Booshy, the weird spirit mentioned in the Pen Ward classic “High Strangeness.” As far as callbacks go, perhaps my favorite is the clap (from “James Baxter the Horse”) that Jake taught to Finn in case they ever do get separated in the afterlife. And of course, there are myriad references made to “Death in Bloom,” the episode that planted the seed for what this would grow into.

Going into the special suspecting that it would involve Death, I was curious how they were going to handle Miguel Ferrer’s character. (In case a reader is not aware, Ferrer played Death in episodes like “Death in Bloom” and “Betty,” but he sadly passed away a few years ago). The producers’ choice to feature him in a non-speaking cameo—despite playing a relatively significant role in the story—was wise; I’m not sure if I can articulate the exact reasons, but something about his role felt appropriate and not gross, as some post-mortem memorials can be. Speaking of which, the wonderful, lovely Polly Lou Livingston was featured for the last time in this episode as Tree Trunks, happily in heaven with her literal harem of husbands. It was funny, it really was, and I’m sure that Polly Lou would’ve gotten a kick out of seeing it on screen. (Also, this is a pro-Tree Trunks safe space. Any Tree Trunks haters will be chucked into the 1st Dead World with Wyatt.)

The biggest mystery in this whole thing, for me at least, is the question of Princess Bubblegum and Marceline. Several years ago, I wrote an essay about what could’ve happened to them in the Ooo 1000+ universe. I speculated that they peaced out and left Ooo behind. In this special, neither Bubblegum nor Marceline are to be found in the Candy Kingdom—Peppermint Butler seems to be the one in charge, given that he is now wearing Bubblegum’s crown. Likewise, the duo aren’t anywhere in the Dead Worlds either. Maybe the two of them skipped town and got a duplex in the Nightosphere? Who knows… I just want my favorite gals to be OK!

All things considered, “Together Again” was a marvel: An episode that managed to feel like a series finale even more than “Come Along with Me” already did without taking away from the series itself. An episode that managed to make the idea of dying funny. An episode that brought back the Lich in a way that wasn’t forced. An episode that made Mr. Fox the New New Death. An episode that gave us a beautiful ending to Finn and Jake’s story… as well as the beautiful beginning to a new one. I said it on Twitter, and I’ll say it again here: “Together Again” was the end of a sentence in a book with infinite pages. Truly, the fun will never end.

Mushroom War evidence: Everything takes place in the Dead Worlds, so not really. Perhaps a more eagle-eyed viewer can inform us...

Final Grade: That’s right, I’m gonna do it...

Post-script, I actually messaged Jesse Moynihan to ask about his writing credit. He told me that it was for an unused story idea that he had developed. I’m not certain, but I’ll bet it was a part of the cancelled TV movie they were trying to make during season 5, since that would’ve seen Finn and Orgalorg journey to the various Dead Worlds.

#adventure time #adventuretime #atimers #at #atdl #distant lands #adventure time distant lands #finn the human #jake the dog #together again #togetheragain #dead worlds #hanna k. nyström #Hanna K #adam muto #jack pendarvis

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call-sign-shark · 1 year ago

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Lauren, I loved this chapter! If I’m being honest I couldn’t wait to continue my binge reading of your story and this chapter didn’t disappoint. Let me just apologize if this comment is slightly shorter, I’m on my phone and can’t copy/paste. Also you told me you couldn’t help but reply to my comments with long ones and please… Do it. I love This, and I love reading your facts and opinions. That being said, here we go:

Her nightmare of being buried alive was awful but so wonderfully describe. I feel like it’s a sad allegory of all the pain she feels inside and, at the same time, it’s a great echoes to Tommy’s own demons. I must also admit that your way of describing trauma and anxiety attack hit close home. Your prose managed to instill those emotions in the reader, and I couldn’t help but also lit a cigarette as Lucy did. This is only the start of your chapter and I am already immersed. Poor woman, she has been so destroyed an broken in that dark alley that she’s merely a ghost now, only inhabited by her fear and shame. Honestly what she’s been true is indescribably horrible… I just hope she can find a little bit of peace along the Devil, even if healing is never fully attained in such situations…. The parallel with the young woman and Polly got me teary.

I hope I’m not sounding mean but I just love the troubled relationship between Lucy and Polly. It renders your story even more realistic rather than having all the characters liking you OC. The line “you’re not family” … Aouch, that was a low blow and, at the same time, quite “true”. And I just LOVE how Lucy kinda acknowledge it and never claimed to be family. She’s just doing her best to survive and work well. And despite my love for Polly, I could only agree with Lucy: Xavier had to be punished, and you can’t imagine how much I hoped for Lucy to find him and murder him. Go Lucy, be our avengers and kills rapists please. The guy doesn’t deserve to live.

“It was unsurprising that Tommy took part in whoring, even if the reality of it made something in her chest squeeze” THANK YOU. That was an incredible detail that fit so well to Lucy. I was wondering if she would react to Tommy paying girls for sex. This, along with the sudden and unexpected burst of jealousy is just *chief kiss* something’s dawning between her and the Devil teehee. In truth, I particularly light their brief instance of physical touching, as the detail of their shoulders sometimes brushing and sending a bit of comfort in her. That’s beautiful and he must’ve very special for her not to be afraid of his touch, considering what happened to her. The truth behind her story… Wow. I was just frozen when I realized that her nightmare wasn’t one, but an actual memory of her buried alive after getting raped. The image of her coming out of the earth, Undead and revived with hatred is so powerful… Now all her violence makes sense and turns her into an even more fleshed out character. Made me think about the movie I’ll Spit on Your Grave. Don’t know if you’ve seen it but yeah. Taking this into account, the whole torture scene with Xavier was a real guilty pleasure. As a big fan of horror and graphic work, I must say that you did a pretty good job at it. You did so well with your characterization of Lucy that when the moment of cutting Xavier’s intimate parts come, we can only but root for your incredible OC without minding the moral questions that come with self-Justice and retribution. In truth, it was oddly satisfying.

I’ll conclude by saying that my favorite line was “She supposed that if he really did carry her soul with him, that it made sense why she would feel more like herself when he was close.” I think it’s a fantastic description of their relationship, as well as a good wink to the whole Devil metaphor. I’m repeating myself but your writing skills are impressive. So dark, raw and poetic at the same time. I’m in awe. This, combined with Lucy melting in Tommy’s embrace was a soft and heartwarming way of ending this violent chapter. Cant wait to see how they relationship will develop into a romance.

These Devilish Intentions

Chapter 4: The Devil’s Embrace

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Main Masterlist

These Devilish Intentions Masterlist

Peaky Blinders Fanfiction Masterlist

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x OC

Summary: They strike a deal on a bridge in the dead of night. It is sealed. It is done. It is everlasting. It is the beginning of something neither of them ever expected to find.

Word Count: 3,036

Notes: Warnings for violence and mention of sexual assault.

Afficher davantage

#lucy winters #tommy shelby x oc #Queen Lauren

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insomniamamma · 3 years ago

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Safe: Ezra x f!reader w/Cee

A/n: What can I say? I'm hormonal and all my shit hurts and if I cannot get snuggles IRL then I will write something super soft and self-indulgent to make myself feel better. Part of the Prickle AU. Set sometime after Sacellum.

Warnings: Oh no! There's only one bed. Soft!Ezra. Language. Cee's best friend on The Pug is non-binary and also named after my little boy's favorite stuffy. Maybe the slightest bit of angst. But mostly super soft.

"You did this on purpose." "Right hand to Kevva, I did not. I asked for double occupancy and they must have misunderstood and--" "You don't have a right hand," "Let's go back to the reception desk," says Ezra, "We may be able to negotiate more appropriate accommodations." "Errgh," you groan. Reception had been a nightmare, three freighters worth of traffic trying to secure berths all at once. It was a lot of people. Too many for your liking. Cee was staying with Kit and their family. Kit and Cee had practically tackled each other right there on the dock, everyone else forgotten, walked away arm in arm. "We shove off in three cycles," Ezra hollered at her retreating back, and she flapped a dismissive hand at him. You had to smile. For three cycles Cee gets to be a normal teenager hanging out with her best friend without worrying about points and pulls and overhead costs and fuel margins. "I don't wanna go back down there," you say, "Too many people. I think twice the population of Falnost was waiting in that fucking line." You brush past him and into the suite. The ceilings are low and slightly curved and it feels strange to be under this much grav. The outer rings of Puggart Bench have something close to terra-normal gravity, but after so much time spent on little moons and worldlets, this much G feels weird and you have no desire to trudge back down to reception. "You sure?" Asks Ezra. "Yeah," you drop your day bag and press a hand to the mattress. "Look at the size of this thing. It's, like, five crash-couches wide. This seems above our pay grade." "They're overbooked," says Ezra, "We're paying the same points for the berth we should have gotten. I made sure of it. I can sleep in that recliner if--" "No." "No?" "Kevva, Ez, we're both adults," you say, "I think we can share a bed for a night without exploding."

Your suite has a real, honest-to-Goddess shower with a generous 15 minute timer. You scrub as fast as you can and then just let the water hit you, let the pressure pound on your tense back muscles until the chime sounds and the water cuts off. You towel off and dress, soft clothes you sleep in, and pad out into the main room. Ezra is reading, face far off and serious, and you just look at him for a minute, illuminated in the warm lamp-light, absorbed in his book, little furrow between his brows and then he looks up, all knowing smirk and dancing eyes, he's caught you staring. "Your turn, Ez," You say and turn your face away. Kevva. This man. You've been trying to keep things professional, but it's a losing battle. His flirtations make you flush, but he's never tried to push you, never tried to leverage the fact that it's his name on the ship's title, that you signed a contract, that you are junior-most crew. You feel safe with him. And, from your limited experience in the fringe, that is a miracle in itself.

Ezra sets his book aside and heads for the bathroom. You peel the sheets from the other side of the bed and settle in. There's a media player bolted to the wall, but you just want quiet. You switch off the lamp on your nightstand (we both have lamps, we both have a nightstand, how weird is that?) The sheets feel deliciously cool against your skin. To be clean and sleeping in clean sheets...if Heaven isn't like this Kevva's got some answering to do. Ezra sings in the shower. You're barely awake and you smile. Ezra can't carry a tune in a bucket, singing fringeling songs and reels, stories of mercs and pirates and ghosts and you drift off to the sound of him, the sound of the water running.

He sees you soft and loose and asleep. No rail-gun, no body armor, no thrower under your pillow. Your face slack, snoring slightly. You've kicked out of the blankets and lay curled as if chilled. "Hey Artichoke," he murmurs, pulls the blankets up and tucks them around you, "Let's get you warm, yeah?"

Ezra wakes. Bleared red numbers of the clock saying that this is still the deepest ditch of local night. Ezra is warm and confused. He feels you pressed against him, your chest to his back, an arm hooked around his middle, your legs entwined with his. You've sought him out in your sleep and folded yourself around him, your breath slow and steady against his nape. Ezra's eyes prick with tears. He can't remember the last time he's been held like this. He's had lovers. He has payed for sex on the less reputable Benches of the Great Arm, but for someone to hold him? For someone to touch him without payment, without trying to press some advantage, gain some kind of leverage, without priming him for the inevitable backstab? He is overwhelmed. He tries to wriggle away from you, but your arm just tightens around him. "...fixed the transponder," you mutter against his neck, "told you we didn't need...told you..." He pats your arm and relaxes against you. "Okay, Artichoke, okay, sweetheart. Go back to sleep."

You wake enfolded, Ezra's good arm wrapped around you. You feel the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, the slow sussurration of his breath, the snores that catch in his throat and turn to murmurs, the rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. You've tucked yourself against him in your sleep. Your hand rests on his sternum. Oh Kevva. What are you doing? You go rigid. Your first impulse is to wrestle out of his hold, take one of the blankets and install yourself in the recliner that you wouldn't let Ezra take, but part of you wants to stay right here in the combined warmth of your bodies, feeling his breath, his heart, his calloused palm spread against your shoulder. You shift, making the smallest effort to pull yourself away and his arm tightens further, a low, sleepy chuckle reverberates through his chest. "Hi Ez," "Hi." He strokes the pad of his thumb along the exposed curve of your shoulder. "I'll get up," you say, even as he shifts and cups the back of your head in his palm, tucking you closer. "You don't have to," he says, voice rough with sleep. This gesture pricks at your heart. Coming up on Falnost has made you hard, guarded, there has been precious little gentleness in your life, pulling rocks out of the parched ground since you were big enough to lift a shovel. Learned to fight and shoot to chase water-thieves from the homestead. He strokes the back of your head like one might pet a skittish cat and your heart squeezes. "Ezra?" You hate how small your voice sounds, you hate the uncertainty you hear there, "Are we okay?" "Of course we are," he says, "Why wouldn't we be?" "I wrapped around you like a Bueller's world python and I did it in my sleep-" "The wrapping was mutual-" "You're not mad or uncomfortable or anything?" He laughs again, gentle huff of breath against the crown of your head. "Mad about waking with you in my arms? The day I'm mad about that you can just shoot me in the head and send me to Kevva because I will surely have lost my ever-loving mind." You smile against his skin and relax some, your hand unfists and you curl your arm around his soft belly, feel his breath hitch. "Tickles." "Sorry." You feel yourself drift, skirting the edge of sleep. He is warm and solid and you let yourself relax against him. “This feels...safe..." you say, so close to sleep that you're not sure if you've said it aloud or if you've just thought it. And you're not sure if you hear his response or dream it, one word. Always.

"She's late," says Ezra. "We still got a sixteenth to button up and board," "Still," says Ezra, "Yon freighter will leave with our pod wether we're strapped in it or not." You see Cee and Kit, trailed by Kit's parents, weaving through the crowd. Cee is beaming, her blonde hair has a brilliant streak of blue, and Kit has a matching streak in their hair. "Hey guys!" Cee hugs Ezra and then hugs you. "How was your shore leave, Little Bird? I like the fancy hair." "Isn't that cool? We've got matching streaks," says Cee. "It's semi-permanent," says Kit, "We'll pick a different color next time!" You have to smile. Cee looks revitalized. Three cycles spent with her friend, just doing normal kid things has been good for her. "Check this out!" says Cee and pushes a laminated drawing towards the two of you. Ezra makes a show of looking carefully. "I recognize you and Kit," he says, "I am not familiar with these other people, though." "They're from The Streamer Girl, dumbass," says Cee, "Here's Clo and Reive and Lily and Auri. See? Kit put us right in the story." Ezra gives Kit his best smile. “You drew this? You are very talented." Kit smiles big. "Thanks!" says Kit, "I'll put you guys in the next one! Maybe you could be professors at Bowsun Academy or something." "I look forward to it," says Ezra. "Time to go, Cee," you say and Cee and Kit exchange one more enthusiastic hug. "Later fringeling!" Calls Kit. "Piss off, stationer!" Cee calls back. Ezra curls his fingers around yours and squeezes. Cee tells you all about her three cycles with Kit, the movies they watched, the Real Food they ate. How Kit's little brother wanted a blue streak in his hair too and Kit's parents said no and how mad he got. I wanna be cool like Kit and Cee. "I told him he's got plenty of time to be cool," says Cee, "And he told me that I don't understand how the world works. He's like, four." Ezra laughs. "Wise for his years." Says Ezra. And the three of you fall quiet. You find the pod much as you left it, towed to the Polly Jean and clipped in, transferred by the station's tugs. You settle in and do a full systems check. Calling out the checklists and making sure everything is good for transit. "What are you guys so happy about?" asks Cee. "Whatever do you mean?" asks Ezra. "You been all smiles since I hit the dock," says Cee, "Both of you. Did we score a really good job? Did we win the Puggart Bench lottery or something? What aren't you telling me?" "That," says Ezra, "Is for us to know and you to endlessly speculate about." "Hmph," says Cee.

Tagging: @oonajaeadira, @grogusmum , @honestly-shite, @writeforfandoms, @ladyvengeancesposts, @the-blind-assassin-12

#ezra x f!reader w/cee #ezra prospect x f!reader w/cee #ezra and cee #soft!ezra needs his own warning #don't look at me #this is so soft

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