#stanning that man really gives them mental illness

[gracefullou]

why do these freaks get so bothered by louis and his fans? shouldn’t they be worrying about the go fund me account to raise hair transplant money for their fave instead?

I mean it's crazy how these people are brainwashed. I saw one of them freaks calling Louis unambitious bc he's performing in countries that other artists usually leave out of their tours and that that man doesn't go there bc he doesn't tour for charity 😭. They know their fav sees his fans as wallets, and they have no problem with it at all bc they're simply horrible people. I just wish they'd shut their ugly mouths about Louis bc it's tiring to fight with literal psychos everyday it's like talking to a wall. Calling a singer who released his album less than a year ago, made a documentary, just released his fashion brand and is now touring the world unambitious just bc he's touring new countries that other big artists don't is crazyyy if anything it makes him more ambitious 🤷🏽‍♀️. And don't get me started on their "he'll be broke soon bs" like really ? worrying about a millionnaire when they're probably living paycheck to paycheck and go into debt everytime they want to see fav 😭

[stanpinesdykewife]

something really really self-indulgent because september makes me mentally ill. this is mostly just for me but figured i'd post it anyway :) enjoy

birthday month stan/reader (enby) pre/during/post-canon/unspecified fluff, 1423 words

“You got me flowers?” you ask, equal parts excited and confused. It's the first thing you say when you open your front door to Stan, the sweetheart, holding a bouquet of bright, gorgeous flowers in front of his chest. You're smiling, a surprised laugh spilling out of you as red crawls up Stan's shy expression. “Stan, what's this for?”

“What, I can't give my favorite person some flowers?” The flush on his cheeks, the awkward way Stan rubs the back of his neck with one hand, betrays the gruffness of his voice. He shoves the bouquet closer to you and you take it with a careful grip, immediately bringing the flowers to your face to smell them. “They're because I like you. How's that?”

“That's a good reason,” you chuckle, stepping back and nodding towards your apartment. “Come in. I have a vase lying around, I think. Thank you, really, you just made my whole day.”

“Mission accomplished,” Stan says, like a dork, and you laugh as you lead him inside.

The next week, he's at your door again. You bark out a laugh when you open it to a familiar sight: Stan, with pink cheeks and a shy smile, holding a bouquet close to his chest. This time, he has a box of chocolates tucked under his arm.

“Another one?” you ask, accepting the flowers when he gives them to you. You give them a whiff, sighing softly at the fresh scent. “Okay, what's this one for?”

“I still like you. Congratulations,” Stan says proudly, showing off the chocolates. They're your favorite kind. You laugh again, your face warm. You step aside to let him in and he accepts the invite, touching lightly at your bicep as he passes by.

“I'm honored,” you say, and reach up just in time to grab his elbow and turn him around. You press a kiss to his chin when he does, smiling at the way he blinks at you afterward, taken aback, like you haven't been dating for as long as you have. “Thank you, Stan.”

“Don't mention it,” he says, his grin crooked, and he grabs your hand without looking to tug you into your own living room. “Come on, these sweets aren't gonna eat themselves.”

“You're sweet,” you say back, teasing, and Stan laughs loud at that, but even from behind him you can see the tips of his ears turn pink.

The next week, you're still surprised. But now you're a little suspicious.

“Okay,” you say slowly, hesitant in accepting Stan's third bouquet. He has a six-pack of your favorite beer in his other hand, and your tone makes him tense. He shifts awkwardly in place. “Now I'm starting to think you’re pulling a long con. What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Stan says, a little too quick to be believable, and you raise a brow in doubt. But you smell the flowers, and a smile crawls onto your face despite yourself. Stan continues, more casual this time, “Just thought I would spoil you. Is it wrong for a man to spoil the love of his life?”

You know the sentiment is strategic, meant to lower your guard and get you gushing over him instead of prying for an answer. But you chuckle anyway, effectively wooed, your heart fluttering in your chest.

“Seriously. This isn't gonna be a long-term thing, is it? Bouquets like this are expensive, I know that much. I really appreciate it, but…” You trail off. Stan rubs the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact.

“Uh… well, it was supposed to be a secret. On the low, y’know,” he admits. You perk up—You love knowing secrets.

“Okay, now you have to tell me,” you say, smiling. But Stan doesn't smile with you. He stares at a spot on your doorframe, his mouth screwing up in thought. When he doesn't answer, you laugh nervously. “Stan?”

“Listen, I, uh… I know it's your birthday month,” he starts, and your smile falls. Stan notices and immediately holds his hands out in front of him, placating. “But, but! I also know you don’t celebrate. I wouldn't spring a surprise on you even if I knew the date, which I don't, but… I dunno. I wanted to do somethin’ nice for you anyway. To show you I care about you, or whatever. You know.”

You do know. Stan's brown eyes are earnest and open, almost pleading, hoping you'll understand. You stare at him for a few moments, mouth parted, your grip tight on the bouquet and crinkling the nice wrapping paper holding it together. Your birthday month isn't exactly top-secret, but you didn't expect Stan to… You can't believe he…

“That's… really nice of you,” you say quietly, something tightening in your chest, something raw and emotional rearing its head behind your sternum. You're a little mortified, and you hate celebrating your birthday for a reason, and the intense, all-encompassing, fluttery feeling in your chest isn't funny at all. But it forces a giggle out of you, more flustered than anything else. Stan perks up at the sound. You think for another moment, but the look on Stan's face makes you come to a quick decision. Hesitantly, you assure him, “I'm not upset. This was a really sweet idea. Thank you.”

“Really?” he asks, and he looks so earnest and kind and warm that you can't help yourself from stepping forward and hugging him, pressing the side of your face into his broad chest. You're definitely crushing the bouquet against his spine, but evidently, neither of you care too much. Stan's arms come around you immediately, the six-pack digging into your lower back. He chuckles, leaning his cheek on the top of your head. “Heh. Glad it turned out okay.”

“Only because I like you so much,” you say, squeezing him tighter for another moment before pulling away. Stan lets up on the hug, but only enough to see your face. You don't know when you started smiling again, but you are. Stan registers it for less than a second before beaming at you, self-assured and affectionate, and that feeling in your chest only gets stronger. You don't know how to put it into words, but you try. With your hand not holding the flowers, you cup his face, keeping his gaze. You try by saying, “Thank you. Really. This… You mean a lot to me.”

If there's one thing Stan can't take, it's a genuine compliment. He laughs awkwardly, breaking eye contact, looking above your head somewhere. You let him, grinning as he shrugs and waves his free hand around as if to dispel the heat coming off his face.

“Yeah, yeah, well—It’s nothin’, really, it's not a big deal,” Stan rambles as your hand drops from his face to rest on his chest. “It took zero effort. Negative effort, in fact. Actually, I paid a guy to come up with the idea for me.” You laugh at the excuse, and suddenly all seriousness has left the air around you two.

“Oh yeah? Maybe I should be thanking him,” you tease, leaning up, closer to his face. Stan finally looks back at you, his eyes flickering to your mouth. “How much?”

“For you? Forty bucks,” Stan says, a smile tugging at his lips. You laugh again, right in his face, and he acquiesces, “Okay, okay! Twenty.”

“I'll give you a kiss and a beer, on me,” you say, reaching behind yourself to grab the six-pack from his hand. Stan's grin is wide and toothy, and with both hands free, he places them on your waist.

“Deal,” he says, and before he goes in for the kiss, you take a mental snapshot: Stan, smiling, a fading flush on his face, framed by beer and flowers. Emotion wells up deep inside you, too-warm and overwhelming. You imagine your heartstrings knotted together, tangled tightly in an overheated mess of affection in your chest. You don't know how else to describe it.

Stan kisses you then, and you melt into him, hooking an arm around his neck as his hands slide around your waist. The bouquet is held tightly in your hand, the wrapper crinkling further behind Stan's head. You're sure some flower petals have fallen off, landing gently on his big broad shoulders, getting caught in the soft gray of his hair. You don't pull away to check. Instead, you sigh, content, into the plush of Stan's lips, under the slow glide of his wandering hands.

The feeling doesn’t go away. Whatever it is, it's good.

[kerubimcrepin]

Wakfu Season 3, Episodes 1-6

//tw mentions of SA

Episode 1 - Fallen Heroes

I had a very long discussion with a friend of mine, who is a fan of medical settings, about how cool the existence of IV within the lore of Krosmoz is.

We didn't come to any conclusion. It was just us fanboying about this. Because my friend loves medical things and I love putting character into situations (some of which would not be survivable, if them being put on IV wasn't possible) (big fan of the concept of Joris getting poisoned and very sick and Kerubim and Atcham freaking the fuck out).

Funnily enough, during the making of my YouTube series, I discovered that there are two Sram-venerating women named Toxine in this franchise.

Adamai harbouring feelings of violence towards the members of the brotherhood is a good idea, (<- obviously the guy that wants Joris to beat the shit out of Kerubim would say this), but man, it could have been so cool if someone competent was working with this idea.

Episode 3 - Oropo's Tower

I should admit, this moment was probably a big win for Tristepin Mental Illness fans. Also, this is sadly the most explicit they can get with the reasons why Tristepin might hate being the Iop god in a cartoon.

He has plenty of reasons. Not only had Iop had 394824 demigods who hated him and felt abandoned by him while suffering fates worse than death (all gods have those) and just as many mortals he took advantage of using the power imbalance of godhood and promises of love (all gods have done that), he also canonically sexually assaulted a woman.

Ngl, if I was Tristepin, I would be considering killing myself — however, the kids and the wife would be sad.

They shuoild do this to Yugo too. He also had other wives. Albeit in an infinitely less insane way than Tristepin. Ankama.., please stop ignoring how existentially horrifying the Eliatrope demigods are.

In the Dofus MMO Kerubim pretty much calls the brotherhood of the forgotten an emo club of people with too much free time on their hands doing nothing but whining about their daddy issues.

And he was so real for that.

Btw canonically, Mishelle/Coqueline makes him feel intimidated (due to her grand age) while she herself doesn't really care about him (besides liking his good attitude towards animals), and is actually besties with Otomai.

Episode 4 - Beastly Girl

I like to headcanon that Joris's relationship with Coqueline is that he projects onto her ("oh god.... being 7 forever would make me kill myself.... even being 3ft tall is already horrible and makes me want to die..... the poor woman must be suffering") while she's like,, 1. probably doesn't think of herself as a "woman". I think she would describe herself as a creature, maybe a girlcreature, and 2. is literally chilling and doesn't give a single shit about anything but animal welfare and direct anti-god action.

I think talking to her would kill Joris because he'd realize that not every immortal person is as insecure about Literally Everything as he is.

She literally says, "the only good gods are ex-gods". We stan a leftist girlcreature?

This screenshot can be used as a reaction image for so many different shows. More fictional parents should say "my child is NOT ascending to godhood and shedding their mortality, becoming something beyond my comprehension, before they're of age. Fuck you."

Episode 5 - A Iop Hides Himself to Cry

You want to read @bitter-panacea's analysis posts about Goultard so bad.

Despite my negative feeling on s3, this is a WIN for Goultard fans, as far as I'm aware. (and Goultard enjoyers, since I kinda consider myself one)

I;'m going to walk into the sea.

Episode 6 - The Ecaflip's Scratching Post

YEAH BABY, A FULL ON IN-SHOW CONFIRMATION OF MY "USH HAS A DIFFERENT MOM THAN KERUBIM AND ATCHAM" HYPOTHESIS.

This might not seem like a contentious issue to normal people. Gods have... a lot of different lovers, so it seems normal to assume that Ush has one mom, while Kerubim and Atcham are twins like Eleley and Flopin, and have a different mom...

But a cancelled game that Tot really liked and still considers canon had really weird "there's an Ecaflip priestess who is the CEO of Giving Birth" lore, and was planned to be the mysterious mom of Kerubim and Atcham (and many other demigods), which contradicts a lot of previously established lore (ankama LOVES retcons. sadly).

I am quite open about thinking this is stupid and not considering this canon until they show her to me in an actual released media (and even then I will find a way to headcanon a better reality). Seeing the series itself acknowledge that Ush is not Atcham and Kerubim's full brother makes me feel quite better.

Hi Ush were you doing [SEXUAL ACTS REDACTED] upon cats again.

Cute...

A normal thing for a Bontarian to do. Blue-clad (metaphorically, he isn't wearing blue but white. Still very Bontarian though) man over here protecting kids and women. While also beating them up.

But unironically, I think it's cute that he has this gap moe of being an evil man who also saves people and cares about honour (because that's a proper thing to do) despite cheating constantly.

Somehow, his shallowness and "I mostly care about appearances, even if I do have a moral code" sort of behaviour is just as Extremely Bontarian as Joris's.... 30 mental illnesses.

THE OST IN THIS EP IS SO GOOD. ECAFLIP FANS WINNING ONCE AGAIN.

Hey past me! Maybe he really does pay these cats to put up with his insane behaviours. 🤨

Yugo, I'm gonna be real with you:

he's probably heard Joris and Kerubim say these exact words at least twice before,

He is reallllllly weird about cats and I am unsure if that's illegal in your setting,

He lured in people to kill in his tower for sport serial killer style.

He's bontarian. -20 morality and honor points immediately.

[twasbrillig71]

UPDATE; JUST FINISHED GOTHAM UNBURIED. IT RUINED MY FUCKING LIFE, YALL SHOULD GO LISTEN TO IT

hey guys, i just got to episode 5 of batman unburied! so uh. what the Fuck is Happening

[evenhisfacewasanalias]

Because the Night (Part 3)

Lady Jane Grey/Guildford Dudley

Rating: Adult

Guildford recognizes at once that his bride-to-be isn’t suffering from any kind of Affliction, other than that of an arranged marriage. If the sickeningly sweet smell of the fake blood doesn’t give it away, the quick peek at her audience after she’s supposedly fainted is obvious enough. He shakes his head where she can see it. Neither one of them is getting out of this. He supposes it’s easier for him to stomach, however - what’s one more curse on his existence? 

A My Lady Jane vampire AU inspired by Edward Bluemel being an absolute darling in A Discovery of Witches.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Chapter title: Desire is hunger is the fire I breathe

A counterfeit married life seems to suit Jane well enough for now. She has her days to herself to read and tend to her herb garden as she pleases, while her hopefully-soon-to-be-ex-husband sleeps the day away. No one tells her what to wear, how to behave, or forces her to talk to some gout-ridden windbag who holds her family’s purse strings at his questionable mercy. The only thing she really misses is Susannah, and the occasional presence of the local girls who came to her seeking cures and bringing gossip.  

At least she has a new project. Her evenings are spent deep in study, researching potential cures for vampirism with her wayward assistant. Guildford’s Latin turns out to be more than vaguely passable, though she continues to mock his pronunciation. However, it’s like pulling teeth to get him to talk about his past, or to offer up any more personal insights into his condition. And so she’s forced to do this with only the help of the dubious human scholarship spread out before her.

“Perhaps it’s transmitted as a seed - Girolamo Fracastoro has theorized that many illnesses might be the result of seed that enters the body, and germinates there.”

“And how is that a good thing for us?” Guildford asks, setting aside a near incomprehensible treatise on balancing the four humours. 

“We’re hoping that this is a disease that can be cured, and not some sort of metaphysical affliction - like a curse. This theory keeps whatever happened to you firmly rooted in the earthly.”

“As opposed to my being a demon from hell?” He scrunches his nose at his words in a way that should be obnoxious but instead comes across as adorable.

“Well you’re certainly no angel,” she retorts back.

“So how do we kill this ‘seed’?”

“There are several simples and tinctures I can think of to test, firstly. We’ll start with some well known cure-alls and work our way down the list.” 

“I’m hoping your tinctures don’t include urine tea or lice mixed with ale,” his face screws up at the thought. They are both all too familiar with the court physician's dubious curatives.

“Perhaps a sausage made from your own blood?” She inquires, trying to keep a straight face. 

“I’ve had worse,” he shrugs.

“True - you’ve already had Stan’s blood.”

Jane delights in earning another grimace. 

****

Guildford drinks down nearly a dozen mixtures over the next several days. They start each morning at sunrise - she isn’t sure why, it just feels like the right time to start these tests. And it works out quite well when it becomes necessary for him to sleep off the after-effects of whatever she’s given him - an increasingly frequent occurrence as they work their way into less reputable curatives. 

Another long chest appears in the back of the stables, filled with the soil from Guildford’s grave. Jane knows Rupert is responsible for this, and mentally thanks the man’s ever present concern for his master. But Guildford never really seems to sleep in it. He spends his days in his own bedroom - on an actual bed - and most of his evenings sprawled across hers as if he owns it (she supposes, in all the ways that matter, that he does).  

He rarely spends more than a few hours researching with her, however, and certainly he’s always gone before dawn. Jane doesn’t always see him leave, often falling asleep directly on top of her notes after being awake all day as well. But she always wakes up the next morning with their books and papers pushed aside, and herself under the covers.

“Why don’t you sleep in your coffin?” She asks one morning, after he’s already downed her latest attempt at cure. It’s clear that he’s left the house since she last saw him, and he’s changed his clothes as well. He also looks completely exhausted, and now, with the addition of her medicine, he looks a little ill too. Jane finds herself oddly tempted to smooth away the tired lines of his face, and brush his errant curls back into order, just to do something to alleviate that expression. She wonders why he doesn’t just heal himself, and asks him.

“It’s not a coffin,” he retorts automatically, but there’s no real argument in it. He offers her a shrug. “If I want whatever this vile concoction is to take effect, I can’t risk undoing it.”

“Would it undo things?” Jane still doesn’t entirely understand how this graveyard dirt thing works.

“I’m not sure.” Unfortunately, neither does he. Most of the ancient scholars never even mentioned it, let alone whatever effects it might have. Guildford had only discovered the effect by accident. 

“What do you think it would do to a human?” She wonders aloud.

“We’re not going to find out,” 

Jane is startled by the vehemence in Guildford’s voice, where before he had just sounded merely exhausted by her line of questioning. Without entirely meaning to, Jane bristles at his words. Who is he to tell her what to do?

“What if it could heal people? Think of all the people that could be helped!”

But Guildford doesn’t rise to the bait, simply looking at her with a serious expression.

“‘Things of the dead can’t help the living’,” he quotes Baudlin, the 13th century monk who painted one of the more accurate pictures of vampire physiology. Ironically, Jane knew he was not one of Guildford’s particular favorites, as he had also posited with certainty that a vampire could never be anything but.

“We could always run a test, just to make sure” she starts, already considering how best to acquire a small wound to try and heal. The sudden feeling of his hands pressed heavily at her shoulders halts whatever planning she was doing.

“Jane, leave it alone,” Guildford insists, looking more tired than ever. “I do not wish to see you in a coffin.”

It’s only then that she remembers that Guildford had lost his mother. He probably isn’t thrilled by the idea of helping bury another family member, even if it is only her - and even if she would still be alive at the end of it. As an apology, she doesn’t draw attention to the fact that he called it a coffin this time.

****

“Where do you go at night?” Jane finally asks, after more than a week of his vanishing act.

Guildford looks pointedly at where his legs are propped up on her bedspread while the rest of him sprawls across a nearby armchair, the spread of books and notes between them, indicating that obviously this is where he’s spending his evening. 

“You know that’s not what I meant.” Jane wonders if it’s possible to strain one’s eyes from rolling them too often.

“I thought we both agreed that my honesty is only required where it pertains to you? Are you changing our vows already?” He smirks at her annoyance. 

“And are you saying that where you go all night somehow doesn’t pertain to me?” She crosses her arms in defiance.

“I think I just said exactly that.”

“And what if I’m kept awake all night worrying about you? Then does it pertain to me?” 

“How very sweet - here I thought your deafening snores and excessive drooling meant you were fast asleep, but little did I know all this time you’ve been kept awake by concern for your dear husband.” 

“I do not drool!” She nearly throws one of his books back into his smug face. “Or snore, for that matter!”

Though the truth is, she doesn’t really know about that last one. The only person who has ever observed her sleeping since she was a child is the man before her. She hadn’t actually meant to fall asleep in front of him, but translating ancient Greek and Sumerian wasn’t exactly invigorating after the first four hours. Perhaps she does? Either way, she’s currently hoping that Guildford mistakes her flushed face and jittery heart rate for anger instead of embarrassment. 

He’s staring at her strangely instead. She doesn’t know quite what to make of his expression, but at least his smirk is gone. Mostly.

“Do you really want to know where I go?”

She can’t tell if this is a trap or some kind of test. “Only if you want to tell me.” She equivocates.

“I don’t. But I will anyway, I’m feeling rather generous tonight,” he gestures magnanimously. “And I do want to see the look on your face when I tell you that I’ve never so much as left the walls of the Dudley estate since we’ve arrived.”

Whatever expression she makes must be good, because Guildford is looking very pleased with himself. 

“And is there a tavern I don’t know about within these walls?” She tries to reason what would keep him here.

“Why would I seek out a tavern when we came out here to retreat from society?”

“Well, obviously to…” but Jane comes up short. To drink, to carouse? He couldn’t get drunk, and he didn’t seem particularly interested in any amorous pursuits - at least not with her, though perhaps he’s interested in someone else? But Jane is not about to ask him that.

“...to play darts,” she finishes rather awkwardly.

Guildford just chuckles lowly. “Jane, surely you’ve noticed there’s nothing in this house I can eat?” Her pulse spikes at the idea that that’s not entirely true. “And there’s nothing at a tavern for me either.”

“So then you…”

“I go out and hunt. There’s plenty of game on the grounds here.” He shrugs back into his chair easily enough, but she can see the rigid tension of his body. He thinks this answer will frighten her.

And it doesn’t, not really. Her sister Margaret has done plenty of ‘hunting’ in their own backyard - Jane has stumbled across the results of her sister’s morbid curiosity on more than one occasion. And her father had hunted for grouse on rare days, though she had always been kept inside whenever this occurred. Perhaps because of that, she finds herself asking the question.

“Can I go with you?”

Guildford startles a little in his seat, and looks over at her in confusion “to hunt?”

“To watch you hunt,” she clarifies. It doesn’t seem to help.

“Why would you want to do a thing like that?”

“Let’s call it curiosity,” she shrugs, though it feels like something more.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Guildford reminds her, still staring at her.

“Good thing I’m not one, then.”

Jane stares back. Their eyes lock in some sort of contest of wills. But Guildford has never had two annoying little sisters to contend with, or a mother who often communicated entirely in glares across the dinner table. Plus, Guildford is the one who decided to tell her about this, even though by his own admission he clearly didn’t have to, so she thinks the odds are good that she’ll be victorious in the end.

“You really think you want to see this?” He asks.

Victory is as good as hers.

“I really do.”

Guildford stands and immediately walks out of the room. A sore loser, Jane thinks to herself.

But then he is turning toward her from just beyond the door frame, “are you coming or not?”

She stands to rush after him. He barely gives her a moment to tie on her boots and slip on her cloak before they’re walking out of the house and towards the line of dark trees behind it.

Guildford looks different out here than he usually does. More…focused. It doesn’t help that his usually undone leather doublet is now fastened up to this neck, leaving all but his face in sleek shadows beneath the dark sky. Like this, he actually looks like a hunter.

Jane shivers in the sharp chill of the late night air, pulling her cloak more tightly around her. She realizes she’s never seen Guildford wear any other layers.

“Aren’t you cold?”

He looks back, eyes glinting even in the dim light. Her hand shifts at her cloak, as if he needs some visual indication of what she’s asking him.

“I’m always cold,” he murmurs, before turning back to increase his pace.

Jane realizes too late how stupid that question must be. Of course the dead don’t produce any warmth. Jane herself has noticed the coolness of his skin before. Not the icy cold hand of death, or any such rot as that, but like the slightly cooler temperature of any room. It’s such a little thing, on the whole scale of it, but Jane can’t imagine never being able to feel quite warm enough. Even though they do live in England.

They reach the edge of the treeline. Beyond it, the night grows even darker - there’s barely a sliver of moonlight tonight. Jane once again has reason to regret she doesn’t share her husband’s night vision. She’s almost tempted to reach for his hand, allowing him to guide her safely through the dark forest, but she assumes he’ll need both of his hands for this, whatever it is he does. And it’s not as though she wants to hold his hand.

But she’s finding it more and more difficult to follow him. Buttoned up as he is, he nearly blends with their surroundings. He’s also nearly silent, or at least far quieter than she is even in her much lighter boots. For a moment, she loses track of him, and is forced to simply continue forward in the same direction they had been traveling before. 

Jane starts to hear something again, off to her left, though it doesn’t sound like Guildford. Or at least she thinks it doesn’t. It’s much further away than she expects he would be by now - for all their arguing, she doesn’t really believe he’d just abandon her in the middle of the dark woods. She closes her eyes and tries to focus her hearing around her. She can hear the rustling of leaves, the sound of crickets around them, even the sharp spike in her own heartbeat, but not the source of the sound she just just heard.

A branch snaps in the distance, and the sound suddenly moves towards her, its pace rapid. But she can’t see anything, can’t…

Just as suddenly she’s pressed against a nearby tree by a body, a human shaped body. Or a vampire one, judging by the strength by which she is pushed back into the rough bark behind her. 

“Guildford…?” She asks, very much hoping that it’s him.

“There was a stag, he must have gotten spooked,” he breathes out, and Jane has never been so happy to hear that voice in her life. Even if his explanation is not what she had expected.

“Did you spook him?” she asks quietly, not wishing to also spook the creature that currently has her still pinned to the tree with her question. She realizes his head has dipped towards her - he’s probably looking her over but even though she can’t see anything other than a dark shape and the brief glint of his eyes. But she can feel him shake his head.

“No,” he adds, unnecessarily. “The falling of a leaf will spook them. They’re difficult to catch.” 

“So no deer tonight?” 

Another shake of his head, this time she can feel his hair brush against her cheek. His breath is slightly warmer than the rest of him, and she can feel it brush against her jaw, hear the sound of his deep inhale. Is he…? Jane’s heart rate spikes again, and Guildford suddenly tears himself away from her. 

“Just wait here,” he commands, and she’s reluctantly forced to obey.

“Not like I have any other choice.”

She wraps herself in her cloak and leans back against the tree behind her, willing her mind not to think about whatever just happened. But of course it’s the problem of the white bear - the more she tries not to think about it, the more she has to. Was he just sniffing her? She didn’t smell bad, did she? Could he sense her pulse racing? Was he…? 

But Guildford didn’t drink human blood, had told her that it wasn’t an experience he cared to repeat if he could help it. And Jane isn’t afraid of him. He said he had never hurt anyone in that way - and certainly Lord Dudley and Stan were living proof of that - and she believed him. But what did it mean if he wanted to…and with her? If he even did at all?

Jane’s thoughts are interrupted by the near-silent return of their object. She realizes her eyes must have finally adjusted somewhat, because she can at least see his face now, and the general dark shape of his clothes. In his hands he holds something lightly colored and still squirming in his iron grip.

“Are you sure you still want to see this?” He tilts his chin at the animal in his grasp.

A hare, a little brown one. At least it wasn’t a fluffy bunny rabbit, though hares were still very cute in their own way. But then Jane tried to think if there was any warm blooded creature he could find that she wouldn’t find at least a little cute. A wild boar, perhaps, but those were obviously quite dangerous, and she still felt some degree of sympathy for them. She nearly laughs at the realization that a human male probably would have inspired the least concern from her, but of course humanity was where Guildford’s own sympathies lay. A hare would have to do. She nods, knowing full well he can see it in the dark.

Jane’s breath catches at the glimpse of sharp teeth in the dimmed moonlight. She can’t tell if Guildford means for her to see them or not. He’s never shown her before, even as they discussed his condition. But she has little time to study them before they’re sunk into the creature in his hold. Jane can see the hare kick harder against his relentless grasp, and almost covers her ears at the awful sound of its screeching cries. But she’s the one that asked for this, and she won’t back down.

It’s really only a few moments before the hare slows its kicking, and quiets its cries, though it feels much longer to her. Jane realizes with a start that she’s watching it die. She feels the strangest urge to reach out to it, to soothe it, to soothe both of them. But then it’s too late, Guildford’s head is tilting back and he’s setting the hare back onto the forest floor.

…where it hops away, albeit a little slowly.

“You didn’t…?” She starts.

“I don’t have to, if I come out often enough. It wouldn’t do to have too many animal carcasses piling up on my lands.” Guildford explains, as though it were obvious. She supposes it kind of is. “Besides, I don’t know that you could have handled it.”

He grins and she can just barely catch sight of his now still sharpened fangs, dark with blood. At least he hadn’t faked the whole thing just to put her off. 

“I could have handled it.” She insists, though she’s not entirely certain.

“Have you ever even watched anything die before?” He asks before quickly shutting his mouth. They both know that she has. Her father’s prolonged illness and recent death is still clear in everyone’s memory. Jane had been at his side the entire time. She wished she had reached out more then as well.

He offers up something like an apology, “if you’re still insistent on this maybe you can pick the animal next time?”

“What if I send you after a grizzly bear?” 

Guildford just laughs, reading forgiveness in her threat. There’s no grizzlies around, anyway.

She considers again. “Perhaps something in the gopher family, then?” They had a tendency to dig up her garden, and she thought that might tug at her heartstrings a little less. And next time she'll be better prepared for it.

“Whatever you want,” he agrees.

Then she can feel his cool hand reaching out to take hers, leading her through the trees and back to their home.

****

They’ve been married for nearly a fortnight before he finally tells her how he died.

They’re back in her room again, books and notes spread across the bedspread between them. She doesn’t ask the question lightly, finding the idea of it strangely distressing to imagine. But her reading keeps bringing her back to the same possibility again and again - a vampire that kills its sire may revert to human form. She tells him what she’s found.

Guildford gets up from the bed, moving to the nearby doorway before pausing  - turning to rest heavily against the frame. Jane fights the urge to give a full detailing of her points of reference, the myriad of sources that back up this conclusion. She wonders if perhaps the vampire that turned him might be someone he…cares about. Or if he simply balks at the idea of taking another life, or unlife as it were.

But then Guildford finally speaks. “The man who made me what I am was killed before I even awoke.”

Jane’s face falls a bit. Well, there goes that idea. Not that it was particularly her favorite - she can easily see how a remedy like that might also serve those who wanted to reduce the vampire population by turning them against one another, and therefore had a high likelihood of being no more than an oft-repeated rumor. She shuffles her notes on the topic to the bottom of the pile, looking towards him to suggest they start afresh. What she doesn’t expect, however, is for her husband to continue.

“Before I became this…thing, I was everything you accused me of on our wedding day. I spent more time in taverns than I did my own home, drinking, gambling, fighting…I’m sure you know the rest.” His eyes glance towards hers for a moment, that strange inner glow reflecting in the firelight. “One night, a common brawl turned particularly violent, and I ended up on the wrong side of that man’s dagger. He was a vampire, as it turns out, who wasn’t keen to endure the scrutiny of a murder charge. So he decided to make me like him. Unfortunately for him, and for myself I suppose, the Guard caught him before I was even in the ground.”

“How did you…?”

“Rupert. He helped me home - carried my body back, that is. My father took one look at the bite marks and the blood and decided on a private burial, so no one else was the wiser.”

Jane's mind reels at all he’s suddenly told her. This proves that he really had died, been buried. They hadn’t expected him to come back, which means he would have awoken…

It doesn’t bear thinking about. But it does certainly explain his reluctance to talk about any of it. 

“Guildford, I’m so…”

“Don’t,” he halts her apology. “It’s happened and it’s done.” 

****

It’s Guildford who pushes the idea of exorcism. 

Not the kind performed by the church, of course - with endless prayers and holy water. The two of them were married in the church after all, their union blessed by the Archbishop of Canterbury himself. And the Catholics certainly haven’t figured anything better out, otherwise the English court would never have heard the end of it. Crosses, holy water, icons, relics of saints - none of it has any effect on vampires. 

But if this is something that’s in him, Guildford seems to think it can be starved out. 

“I believe it’s ‘feed a cold, starve a fever’,” Jane argues, though this isn’t particularly sound medical advice either.

“Are you offering to feed me?” He mocks, though with a strange expression across his face.

“I’m just saying, this isn’t exactly a sound strategy.”

“Because everything else we’ve tried has been working so well.” He shoots her a look.

And ok, so her last few attempts at a medical cure haven’t exactly panned out. But the idea of starving a…demon or whatever out is silly. Demons supposedly feed on your soul, how exactly does he plan to starve it?

The plan she’s forced to help him come up with seems to involve weakening his body until whatever is in there just…leaves. She’s very much not sure about this but at least all that he’s asking her to do shouldn’t cause any permanent damage. Jane had outright shut down any mention of bloodletting or wounding in general.

Guildford reveals he has already stopped taking in any additional blood, nothing since that night she had gone with him into the woods. Apparently he’s been considering this eventuality for a while now. But apparently he had tried starving himself once before, long before they had even met, and it ended with him nearly killing a drunkard outside the local tavern. So he asks her to restrain him this time. She reluctantly agrees to help. Secretly, she fully intends to monitor him throughout this entire terrible plan once he’s too tied up to stop her.

They decide to begin at sunrise, planning to take advantage of the usually mild effects on sunlight to compound with everything else. Guildford had found a coat of silver mail - vermeil at least, something his spendthrift father had missed selling off but that Guildford’s senses had detected right away - that would weaken him further. The final step was for Jane to tie him down so he would be forced to endure it. That was possibly her least favorite part of this plan. She’s not certain if she’s hoping this works or if it doesn’t. It seems too horrible to fathom, but at least it will free them both. She tries to find some feeling of relief in the thought of regaining her independence.

The dawn comes far too quickly for her liking. She follows Guildford out to collect all their supplies, and set up near the stables - where none but Rupert would venture, though he was asked to keep his distance for a while. Jane watches as Guildford reaches back to grasp at his white shirt, tugging it over his head in one swift motion, his doublet having already been abandoned back at the house. She tries not to stare at the play of muscles across his arms and chest as he takes up his next task - driving four long metal spikes into the ground with a large hammer. For some reason the two small necklaces at his throat and the wedding ring glinting on his finger only enhance how undressed he suddenly looks.

The effect only worsens as the sun starts to rise on the horizon, and Guildford strips off his boots and breeches as well, leaving him only in a pair of smalls that barely cover the pale musculature of his legs. Jane realizes for all that she’s already seen her husband almost entirely naked, she’s never actually watched him take off more than his doublet before this. It feels strangely intimate to witness. She should probably look away but she doesn’t, and Guildford doesn’t comment on it.

He merely slips on the vermeil mail shirt, grimacing as it makes contact with his skin. He had told her that first real night together that silver feels like burning ice to the skin of vampires, and that a cut from a silver blade burns into them and is difficult to heal. This contributed strongly to her refusal to add any bloodletting to today’s experiment. The chainmail seems painful enough already and she begins to understand the necessity of restraining him. Jane directs him to lie down between the 4 metal spikes, arms and legs stretched out.

“Try and find a comfortable position, you’re going to be here for a while.” 

Guildford doesn’t move. 

“The whole point of this is to make me uncomfortable,” he reminds her, putting it rather mildly.

“Well I can find some rocks to put under you, if you’d like?”

He huffs out a pained laugh and she relaxes a little. He can’t be in that much pain if he’s still arguing with her, at least. So she sets to work, starting at his feet, tying off a quick halter hitch to the blunted metal spikes and a simple figure eight loop around his ankles. She runs two fingers under the loop just to make sure. It should hold him securely in place without unexpectedly loosening or tightening on him. He glances down at her work.

“Are you planning a career as a ship’s bosun or something? What the hell are those knots?” He tries to tug against the ankle restraints.

“I can always tie a midshipman’s hitch and just let it slowly tighten the noose.” She threatens, moving up to start on his right arm.

“It’s not like you can cut off my circulation.”

She’s not entirely convinced she couldn’t accidentally do some real damage here, and it’s not like she has the heart to add to his pain either way. He’s already looking more bloodless than usual, jaw clenched as he tries to hold himself steady for her to finish.

Jane tries to work quickly, simply leaning over him to tie the loop around his other wrist instead of moving all the way to his other side. She has to scoot back a little to keep her knees from pressing the silver mail harder into his ribcage, but she can just manage. Unfortunately, she realizes too late how near this puts her face and his, her neck barely hovering above his mouth - after he’s just told her he’s gone nearly two weeks without eating. This time, she’s certain she can feel a deep inhale across her throat. Her pulse jumps a little.

“I’ll move in just a second,” she assures them both, slipping her fingers beneath the loop of rope before she starts to tie it off.

Guildford just turns his head away. “Don’t worry, you’re not that tempting.”

And of course she isn’t, not to him at any rate, and it’s not like she needs reminding. Annoyed at both herself and at him she tightens the knot a little more than was strictly necessary and pulls herself upright as quickly as she can, not bothering to look down at his face.

But Guildford is just looking at her knots anyway, testing their hold on him. No amount of force seems to budge them, or to tighten them any further. He nods at the work and dismisses her. 

“You think I’m just going to leave you here like this?”

“Jane I know you love torturing me but this might be taking it a bit…”

“Torturing you? I only agreed to this under duress!”

“You don’t really want to watch this part -”

“Of course I don’t want to watch this part but I also don’t want to come back and find you half dead!”

“I’m already…”

“You know what I mean! More dead than you already are! So just suck it up and deal with it.”

And it’s troubling, really, how quickly the fight leaves him. Guildford’s eyes simply shut as he lets his head fall back against the ground below. He’d look like he was trying to sleep but for the clenching of his jaw, the tension of each of his bared limbs against her knots. And in the end he was right, she doesn’t want to see him like this - knowing it’s only going to worsen as the sun grows higher - but she has to stay near. She’s brought several of his books and some apples with her, so at least she’ll have something to do besides just watching him suffer.

Hours pass. The sun grows strangely warm against her skin, in a way she never notices as she constantly moves around the gardens. She doesn’t want to even imagine what this might feel like to the man beside her. Occasionally, she can hear small noises coming from him - sounds of pain, obviously - that he’s trying to mask. She feels guilty about this for a while and then realizes he’d be doing the same no matter where she was, if only to ensure that Rupert and none of the other staff were able to hear him if they passed too near. But the soft sounds still cut right through to the heart of her. She can’t believe she’d actually rather hear him arguing with her instead.

It’s the silence that truly frightens her, however. As the sun drops lower, Guildford sounds like things are getting worse rather than better, and she tries not to look at the trails of faintly pinkish tears over his face. But then it stops, and Jane is forced to look at him directly. When she does, she’s faced with a corpse. Is he finally asleep? Or is he…?

Jane has no way of knowing for sure, unable to tell the difference between death and sleep in her husband. She doesn’t want to wake him to more pain, but she also doesn’t want him to slip away without her knowing. She goes to shake him gently, to no response.

“Guildford,” she tries calling his name. And again. Again. Getting louder with each cry.

Her shaking has become less gentle, but still no response from him. The movement shifts the chainmail from where it lay, revealing blistered red skin beneath each ring. Jane rushes to push the shirt up further - his pale abdomen is covered in ringed lacerations, angry and bleeding. The silver must now be in his bloodstream.

Jane rushes to untie him, releasing her simple halter hitches from the metal spikes to free his arms. She carefully peels back the mail, sticky with his blood, trying not to tear at the skin even further. She uses the edge of her skirt to keep the mail from touching his face, and finally lifts it from him, tossing it as far away as her strength will carry it. 

But there's still no response from Guildford. She swiftly unties his ankles as well, uncaring that the rope still loops around his wrists and ankles, at least this way she’s able to move him into the shade. But Jane is not strong enough to carry him, nor does she want to drag his bleeding body across the filthy ground. Thinking quickly, she tears at the laces of her gown, stripping it off and laying it across the ground. Jane carefully shifts Guildford onto the spread fabric, allowing her to take hold of the hem and pull him to the safety of the stables, slamming the doors behind her.

Several more times she calls his name, shaking him, looking for any signs of life. All to no avail. There’s only one option left to her - the chest of grave dirt. If Jane had thought it was difficult dragging Guildford into the stables, lifting him into the chest is nearly beyond her. She considers finding Rupert to help them, but worries there isn’t time. Jane perseveres with her task.

She’s nearly drenched in sweat by the time she finally gets Guildford into the chest, and discovers she still doesn’t know enough about how this works. Does the dirt need to cover his wounds? It seems unhygienic, but it’s not as though it could hurt him worse than the silver already in his veins. And so she digs down, drawing the dirt up and over the lacerations. Jane tries not to think about the fact that she’s essentially burying him. She’s surprised to brush at her cheeks and find them wet with tears. She can’t remember when she started crying.

Jane doesn’t stop until Guildford’s entire body is covered, leaving only his head and feet free. She can’t bring herself to close the lid, feeling too much as if that would turn the chest into a true coffin. Instead, she turns down the nearest lanterns, providing as much darkness as she can, and drapes herself over her husband’s form. Her white linen shift is already filthy with digging, and she ignores the soil that clings to her damp cheek. All she can do now is pray that Guildford is alright.

The setting of the sun passes them by with no change. Jane considers too late how much hope she had placed in the sun’s absence, and nearly gives up. She’s completely drained of her strength, and almost all of her hope. There’s nothing left for her to do.

She can feel herself drifting, her own body trying to heal from the day’s exertions by forcing her to sleep in fitful starts. Each time she wakes she searches Guildford’s face for any signs of  a change, barely restraining herself from checking on his wounds still buried beneath the soil. But each time she finds nothing, and is pulled back into a restless sleep.

The faintest whisper of her name wakes her again, and she’s slow to be pulled from another nightmare of her husband bleeding out in the field. But as her eyes flutter open she’s met with the glint of Guildford’s own, the feel of his chest rising with each slow breath below. She shifts back, allowing him to sit up, dirt falling away to reveal that he’s no longer bleeding, but still covered in links of reddened lesions. Without thinking, she throws her arms around his neck, barely avoiding his injuries. Gingerly, Guildford’s arms come up to encircle her back. He pulls her closer, heedless of his wounds. 

Jane is crying again, clinging to Guildford as tightly as he holds onto her. She’s sniffling into his neck but she doesn’t care.

“I thought I killed you.”

“Jane, I’m already dead,” he tries to reassure her, but it only makes her feel worse.

She pulls back to look at him seriously.

“What if whatever is in you is the only thing keeping you alive? What if we kill it and there’s nothing left but a…”

“A corpse?” He offers her a tight smile, reaching up to brush away the dirty tears that stain her cheeks. “I used to think I might be alright with that.”

“Don’t you dare - don’t you dare, Guildford Dudley.” She hisses. “I won’t help you die.”

He shakes his head, “I’m not trying to.”

“Promise me,” she demands.

“Jane, I promise you I’m not trying to die. I wouldn’t do that to you, I wouldn’t make you responsible for that.”

Jane is relieved by the promise, but troubled by the rest of his words. Does Guildford really think she only wants to avoid the guilt of causing his death? Surely at this point he realizes that she’s never wanted him dead, that they’ve even become something like friends these last few weeks. She cares if he lives or dies, regardless of her own role in it. But she has no idea how to explain any of this to him, and so she shocks them both by kissing him instead.

It’s not exactly a perfect kiss. They’re both still covered in blood and dirt and tears, and Guildford remains half buried in his coffin. In the darkness of the stables she nearly misses her mark, noses bumping before their lips can even meet. But once she gets there she finds his lips cool and soft and sweet, and after a few moments surprise they move carefully against her own. His fingers are still cradling her cheeks and she can feel his tongue touch gently at her lips, tasting her tears there. Jane nearly laughs at the tenderness she feels welling up in her. She had always imagined that if they ever did kiss it would be in the middle of a fight - hard and passionate and all consuming. But that’s not what this is, she’s not even entirely sure it’s even romantic. It’s more an affirmation they’re both still here, that neither of them is abandoning the other. She pulls back to find him faintly smiling.

They don’t say much as Guildford settles back into the chest, Jane helping to re-cover his wounds - apparently she had done the right thing earlier. This time it’s less troubling to close the lid over him, letting him continue to rest and heal through the morning. Jane has to don her filthy day dress once more, sneaking back into the house and hiding her filthy clothing beneath the bed and scrubbing herself as best she can with the pitcher of water provided. She’ll take a real bath when the household wakes, but she also finds herself in need of real rest. 

Before sleep takes her, she makes another private resolution to herself - it’s time to bring in more help.

*** 

The chance comes to her swiftly enough, when a short letter arrives from Susannah. She’s apparently alright, or alright enough, and living out on the borders near to where Jane herself is staying. It’s difficult to get messages in or out, however, as no one will take them. Jane wonders if perhaps they could arrange a meeting spot, or at least a message spot.

It’s then that she remembers - Susannah had also been there, that night in the Tavern, with those other vampires. One of them had called himself Archer, the so-called leader of the infamous Pack. If Susannah was with them, maybe they might have some answers for Guildford. Jane rushes to the stables to tell him her idea, choosing to ignore the fact that he’s half dressed and clearly still recovering. 

The discussion goes rather disastrously.

“Jane, you don’t know them - Pack vampires are dangerous, they’re not like Susannah and I. Once you leave the town walls you are nothing but prey to them.”

“Actually you’ll find I do know them. Several of them were also in the tavern when we met and they didn’t hurt a single person there…”

“They slaughtered nine of the Kingsland guard!”

“...who were all trying to kill them, that’s no more than self-defense! I was standing right next to them and neither one of them so much as glanced at my neck.”

Guildford’s eyes can’t help dropping to her throat the second she mentions it, but he just as quickly glances back up at her.

“They’re not stupid, Jane, they wouldn’t have done so publicly. They would have waited until you were alone.”

“Aha!” She shouts, pointing at his face.

Guildford boggles a little, taken aback by the sudden exclamation. “‘Aha!’, what?” 

“You admit my neck is tempting then!” Jane doesn’t even understand herself why she’s suddenly making this argument.

“What? No!” He frowns, seemingly unable to understand Jane’s train of thought himself. “Or yes, if it will get you to drop this idiotic idea of yours.”

“I’m not going to drop it, not if it can help us. I’m not even planning to meet the Pack, I just want to get a message out to Susannah and then maybe she can ask them. They wouldn’t hurt her, would they?”

Guildford shakes his head.

“Then that’s that. I should go while the sun is still out.” Jane steps away from his coffin, walking briskly out of the stables before he has a chance to try and talk her out of it again. 

She hears him calling her name and picks up her pace; she'll have to hurry if she wants to make it to the outer woods before sunset, only giving herself a quick moment to grab her cloak and strap on her dagger. She has no desire to get stuck in the dark again.

But traveling on foot, it’s already nearly dusk by the time she makes it to the edge of the town with her note to Susannah. Just past the walls, the forest looms darkly, a faint fog rising from the ground with the last of the day’s warmth. She tightens the cloak around her shoulders and steels herself to walk into it. One foot in front of the other.

The minute the walls leave her sight she knows she’s made a mistake. What the hell is she even doing out here? There’s no guarantee Susannah would even find her note out here. Or what if the wrong person found it? What if the wrong people already know she’s here and are just waiting to…

Jane hears a rustling behind her - definitely not a stag this time. Those are clearly footsteps, and they’re getting closer. 

She runs.

She recognizes quickly there’s no way she can outrun a vampire - her best chance is to try and fight. Hiding behind a large tree, she unsheaths her silver dagger, and waits for her stalker to come closer.

She doesn’t have to wait long. Now’s her chance!

“Jane! Jane - it’s me!” Guildford nearly shouts at her as she slashes wildly in the dark.

“Guildford?” She draws back. He’s fully dressed again, in buttoned up black as before. She had nearly stabbed him.

“God’s teeth, woman, why do you even have that?” 

She still holds the dagger between them.

“I’m cousin to the King, we all have them. And whatever you may think, I’m not an idiot - I didn’t come out here unprepared.”

He sighs, “I don’t think you’re an idiot, just…foolhardy. You don’t need to put yourself at risk for me. You could have at least waited for me to come with you.”

Jane refuses to admit she actually feels a little better now that he’s here with her, but she’s also left with a new worry.

“You are still healing, I didn’t want you to push yourself.”

“I’m fine.”

“...and you said yourself that at your age you’re barely stronger than a human.”

“Yes, but I am still…” he stops himself.

“A man?” 

He winces, and she knows she’s right.

“I’ll have you know this poor, feeble little woman happens to have trained with the King himself!”

Guildford shakes his head, “I don’t think fencing practice with our invalid King is quite the boast you think it is.”

“I didn’t say I fought with him, I said we were trained together. By the Kingsland guard - why do you think I have this dagger? In fact, as someone who had bested Capo Ferro by the age of eight…”

“I’m just saying…”

But Jane is tired of arguing. She drops swiftly to a crouch, kicks out her foot and sweeps Guildford’s legs from beneath him. The second he falls backward she rolls herself to pin him to the forest floor, silver blade held carefully against his throat. The whole thing takes her mere seconds. She looks down at the spoils of her victory.

Guildford’s eyes are nearly black where they gaze up at her, head tilted back where the very tip of the dagger barely dents the skin beneath his jaw. She can feel the unsteady rise and fall of his chest beneath her thighs, her own breathing greatly increased by the sudden exertion as well. If she leaned down right now she could…

Jane shakes the errant thought from her head, and helps Guildford back to standing. He’s a little unsteady on his feet as she brushes the leaves from his coat. She remembers he’s only had a day to heal.

“When you’re fully healed we’ll have a proper match,” she offers with as little smugness as she can manage, which is still quite a bit.

But Guildford just smiles, “I look forward to it.”

They walk together in silence for a while, as Jane ponders where best to leave the note so that it will get back to Susannah, and not fall into the hands of the Kingsguard. This unfortunately does require them to head deeper into vampire territory.

Jane knows they’re getting closer when the woods grow eerily silent - even the usual nightly sounds of animals disappear. Jane shudders a little, realizing the animals probably haven’t just wandered away. She watches as Guildford sniffs at the air around them, and tries to listen carefully for sounds in the distance. She knows she’s probably no help here, and her own loud footsteps and scent are probably just in the way.

“I’m sor…” she begins.

“You don’t have to do this for me, you know. We can find another way.”

“I’m not doing this for you, or not just for you. Susannah was - is - my best friend. Being away from her this last month has been…”

“Difficult?”

“That’s putting it mildly. I always thought we would stay together forever, that I’d become a woman of independent means and be able to keep her safe by my side through it all.”

Guildford is silent for a moment, before he speaks. “I certainly managed to cock that plan up.”

Jane is forced to agree, in her own mind at least. Outwardly, she decides to show mercy, “well, our parents did. For the sake of marital harmony I think it’s best if we place the blame on them instead.”

He smiles in recognition of what she’s offering, “I often do.”

“Come on then, I think we’ve gone far enough” Jane decides.

“You certainly have.”

They both whip around at the same moment to see themselves overtaken by three unfamiliar vampires, who look less like the two gentlemen from the tavern and far more like the hungry brigand she met on her journey here. Even from several paces she can spot their fangs. Guildford steps in front of her, and she quietly draws her dagger.

“Look what we have here, a lost little lamb in the woods,” their apparent leader sneers. “You weren’t planning to keep her all to yourself, were you?”

The question is apparently directed towards Guildford, who practically growls in response - the sound of it low and threatening, something she’s never heard from him before.

But the other vampires just laugh as if he’s no threat at all. The two of them brace themselves as the three stalk closer. She doesn’t like their odds.

Something whizzes past her ear and slams into the leader’s shoulder.

“Sod off, Garrick, she’s with me.”

Jane feels like she’s getting whiplash with all this turning but a huge grin spreads across her face as she spots Susannah behind them, bow in hand. Another woman - another vampire - stands at her side.

The arrow itself is quickly removed from Garrick’s shoulder, apparently doing little more than annoying him, but he and his mates fall back anyway, seeing their chances spoiled for the evening.

Jane rushes to hug her best friend. “How did you even find us?”

“Every vampire in a ten mile radius heard you two nattering on. Jane, what in the fucking tits are you doing out here?” Susannah awkwardly hugs her back. 

“I needed to see that you were alright, that you were safe.”

“What do you think my letter was for, you eejit?” Susannah pulls back, looking over her shoulder and nodding back to Guildford, “that the husband? You know he’s a…”

“Yes, I did realize that,” she defends herself.

“Just checking, because you can be rather slow on the uptake.” 

Jane’s not entirely sure if she’s being teased or actually insulted. But Susannah’s companion quickly interrupts the reunion.

“Susannah, if you want to keep your human safe we need to get her out of the woods.”

“Too right, onward then.” Susannah agrees, directing Jane and Guildford back the direction they came, apparently with armed escort this time.

But Jane hasn’t even had a chance to talk to her friend yet, so she drops back a little, hoping Susannah will join her, thankful when she does.

“How are you, really?”

Susannah lets out a sigh, “I’m fine.”

“And you’re with the Pack now?” Jane can see the woman in front of them tensing up.

Susannah shoots her a glare, “didn’t exactly have a choice there, did I?”

It’s the first time Susannah has ever spoken so harshly to her. But she realizes it’s also the first time that Susannah hasn’t been her maid. “I didn’t mean to…I just meant are you taken care of out here?”

Susannah softens a little. “It’s not ideal, all of us crammed together like this, not enough to eat. But it’s the only thing keeping the Kingsguard from coming in and slaughtering us.”

Jane hangs her head at the words. “I’m so sorry, Susannah, I didn’t realize what I was asking of you. I shouldn’t have…”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Susannah agrees, but her voice has lost its earlier harshness, and Jane accepts the well deserved scolding. They travel in silence for several long minutes. And then Susannah grins.

“If only I’d known you were set to marry one of us, I could have come along with you. I’d never have to do another day’s work again,” she laughs.

“You still could,” Jane suggests. They could hide Susannah with them just as easily as they were hiding Guildford. But she just shakes her head.

“My secret’s already out, and you’ll have enough trouble on your hands keeping his.” 

“I could…” Jane struggles to think of something she can offer to Susannah, to even try and make up for what she’s done. But she doesn’t have anything - the Dudley fortune is mere myth, and she can’t even promise her safety. The only thing she has is…

“You said there wasn’t enough food,” she starts, and Jane can’t believe what she’s about to say. But she still cares about Susannah - still trusts her with her life. The biting thing is not ideal but maybe if she just cut her hand and let the blood spill into a cup, they could work something out. But she can sense all three vampires around her tensing at the implication. 

“Nevermind that, Lady Jane,” Susannah’s strained laugh echoes. “Maybe you can just shoo a few deer our way every once in a while.”

The group relaxes around her and Jane lets out a real laugh as she agrees. 

“But how do I reach you? I still want to know that you’re ok.”

“Just leave a note in the wall if you want - though never in the same spot twice. I’ll keep an eye out whenever it’s safe enough.”

“And how will you get a response to me?”

Susannah grins, “I have my ways.” 

Up ahead, Guildford and Susannah’s companion halt in their tracks. Jane steps forward to see what’s stopping them.

Two men are waiting by the wall.

“More vampires?”

“They have silver on them, they’re Kingsland guards.” The woman states.

“Why are they dressed as peasants?” Jane wonders.

“Must be some kind of new tactic to trap us.” Susannah adds. “I’m sorry, we can’t take you any further, but they shouldn’t bother two ‘humans’. Just be ready with an excuse for why you were in the woods so late.”

And with that Susannah and her friend drop back into the forest, leaving Jane and Guildford on their own once more. They briefly consider taking another route, but there’s no guarantee there won’t be guards all along the walls. And it will look even more suspicious if they take a more circuitous route and still get caught. Jane looks around and spots a nearby patch of mushrooms, ripping them up and placing them in her satchel. If anyone asks they were out here looking for mushrooms and got lost. 

Jane practically waves the mushrooms in her hand as they approach the wall, ready to head off any questions. But none are asked. 

Instead, both guards draw their swords at the sight of them.

“Jane - run back and find Susannah,” Guildford quietly commands, hand reaching for his own small daggers.

“Not a chance, I’m not leaving you alone out here,” Jane whispers, silver dagger at the ready. They may not be facing vampires, but she can still do plenty of damage with the blade alone. But first, she hopes the power of her name might protect them.

“Put down your weapons,” she commands in her haughtiest tone. “I am the Lady Jane Grey and this is…”

“We know exactly who you are,” the larger of the two announces.

“And we have orders to kill you,” the younger one adds, a little manically.

Well, so much for that plan. 

“I’ll take the big one then?” Guildford suggests.

“I’ll take the big one,” she decides, glancing at Guildford but not wanting to remind him out loud that he’s still injured.

“Fine.”

Jane has no time to wonder at why he agreed so easily before a quick flick of his wrists has one of his daggers neatly sliced into the sword arm of the larger man. He howls in pain even as he runs towards the couple, his partner only moments behind. 

She discovers quickly that a dagger is no real match for a long sword, in terms of reach. All she can really do is parry his attacks, and hope to find an opening. She finds one just as the sword thrusts past her side, narrowly missing her but leaving the man’s arm briefly exposed. Jane slams her left hand into Guildford’s dagger before ripping it out again. Unfortunately, the man’s grip remains on his sword, which glances off her wrist on the retreat, but at least she has two weapons now.

She spares a quick glance towards Guildford, who seems to be in much the same position as she is. Only the younger of the two men is more wild with his swings, obviously still an apprentice to the seasoned veteran she’s facing. This gives her an idea. 

“Switch!” 

She tosses Guildford his other dagger as she pivots quickly around him, taking his place against the younger man while he steps into hers. She’s forced to immediately duck as another wild swing is aimed at chopping off her head, but she uses the man’s momentum against him, kicking him in the same direction he’s swinging to overbalance him. He drops to his hands and knees immediately, and receives another swift kick - this time to the head - to flatten him completely. A quick flick of her boot and his longsword is hers, which she brandishes with a professional flourish - cloak swirling around her form - so their other would-be assassin knows she’s not one to be trifled with.

“Holy shit!” 

She’s not sure if the words come from the guards or her husband or all three but she’ll gladly take the compliment. With a quick thrust the sword is at the older man’s throat, and Guildford finally turns his admiring gaze from her to disarm the man. Jane catches the barest hint of Guildford’s fangs emerging as he nears the man’s bloodied arm, but just as quickly it's gone. 

And at least the two men seem to have the good sense to run after they’ve lost the fight and both their weapons. She sees Guildford start to follow them but steps in his path to halt him.

“We need to reach out to Edward right away, there has to be some reason two members of  Kingsland guard would try to come after me.”

“That’s what I aim to find out,” Guildford insists, still focused just past her in the direction the men had run.

“All you’ll do is give away your own secret,” she reminds him. “Let’s just head home before anything else happens. I’m not exactly looking to use these again so soon.”

At her words Guildford's focus turns back towards her, weapons in both her hands and still panting from the fight, and she can feel his gaze burning into her. He’s looking at her just as he had earlier, when she’d knocked him down and held her dagger to his throat. With admiration and…something else. It makes her want to find out just how hard she can push him.

Jane reaches down to tuck her dagger back into its sheath - it’s really starting to feel excessive at this point - and winces as the movement re-opens the thin cut on her wrist. She can tell it’s bleeding by the way Guildford’s eyes go a little unfocused.

“You’re hurt,” he starts, but doesn’t move closer to her.

“I’m fine, it’s just a scratch,” she assures him, bringing her wrist to her mouth to soothe the sting of it.

Jane looks up to see Guildford’s dark eyes watching her intently. She sucks at her wrist and watches his own reflexive swallow at the sight, his eyes tracking her movements as her tongue clears away any remaining blood. She allows her wrist to fall from her mouth, but Guildford’s eyes never leave her lips. A thrill races up her spine at the hungry look on his face.  

And Jane has no idea what she’s doing but she tosses aside her sword and watches as Guildford does the same with his daggers. She steps forward and then they’re rushing to meet one another, lips colliding as she had always imagined. Her hands go straight to the curls behind his ears that have been taunting her for weeks. His own reach up to cradle at her jaw, tilting her head up to meet him better. Guildford’s tongue drags along the line of her lips, groaning as they part for him and pressing deeper. She realizes he can still taste faint traces of her blood in her mouth, his tongue chasing the flavor of it. Jane wonders how she tastes to him, and shivers at the thought of it. Gods, this is such a terrible idea.

But she does nothing to stop them, even when Guildford’s hands move to clutch at her lower back beneath her cloak, pressing their bodies together more tightly together, and travel down further. Her pulse races as his hands slip just below her rear, lifting her from the ground. She willingly jumps up to meet him, wrapping her thighs around his waist as best she can despite her dress. It doesn’t seem to matter, however, as Guildford’s strong arms continue holding her up even as her legs dangle uselessly at his sides. If this is what he can do when injured, Jane wonders what he is capable of fully healed. 

And the thought of it shouldn’t arouse her as much as it does. Jane has historically found such displays of strength in men more annoying than attractive, but Guildford isn’t showing off. She thinks he even rather enjoyed being bested by her earlier. So she lets herself appreciate the way he lifts her with ease, aligning their bodies so deliciously even through too many layers of fabric. At this height, it’s even easier to slant her mouth against his, and press her tongue against his own. She feels like she wants to climb inside him. A little drunk on her own power, she accidentally bites his lip, but he only groans against her, gripping her thighs more tightly around him.

Somehow, he manages to lower them to the ground below without ever once breaking his hold on her, her arms still clinging to his strong shoulders. He kneels down between her spread thighs, one hand reaching up to cradle the back of her head, keeping it from meeting the hard earth. With the other he unfastens her cloak, letting it slip off her shoulders to spread around her. 

The first brush of his cool lips across her throat has her drawing in a sharp breath. She is entirely unprepared for the feeling of his tongue running up the line of her neck, or the trail of sucking kisses that moves down along it, and she moans into the night air surrounding her, feeling the fog envelop them. And she knows she should worry but that part of her mind has gone completely silent at the feeling of his mouth sucking at her pulse point. He spends an inordinate amount of time just breathing in against her throat, lips barely touching her at times. She also catches the occasional hint of blunted human teeth as his mouth maps every inch of her neck, but she never once feels so much as a scrape of his fangs. She’s not even sure she wants that but she whines all the same, arching into the sensation.

He finally drags himself away from her neck to kiss down along the neckline of her dress, lavishing attention to the tops of her breasts. And Jane wants to feel him everywhere, desperately wishing they had less clothing in the way. She brings her hands forward to work at the buttons of his doublet, huffing out her annoyance at the dozens of tiny buttons that thwart her efforts. She can feel Guildford laughing against her chest. She laughs with him.

She stops when he sits back up again, reaching down to undo the buttons himself, eyes fixed on hers the entire time. Jane watches with rapt attention as he makes quick work of them, slipping the coat off his shoulders more slowly. Feeling rather daring, she reaches to untuck his shirt from his trousers, slipping her fingers beneath to touch at bare skin, soft over hard muscle below. Guildford pulls the shirt off entirely, and she allows her hands to freely roam over the coolness of his skin, taking care to be gentle with the lingering traces of the silvered marks. But he just presses her smaller hands firmly against his skin, showing her that there’s no hurt in her touch. And so she continues as she likes, raking her nails along the v of his abs, or teasingly grazing his sides with her knuckles. She marvels at the play of muscle at her touch, the groans and shuddering breaths she drags out of him. But he’s too far away for her liking. She pushes herself up onto her knees before pressing him back none too gently, climbing into his lap in a move that clearly takes him by surprise. Jane enjoys kissing the astonishment from his lips.

Here, her hands are able to glide across his bared chest, his shoulders, down along his back and arms. The places she’s been wanting to touch since she first saw him in the stables - possibly even before that. His head tips up to meet her kiss, breathing soft sounds against her lips. She feels his hands slip to the laces at her back, expertly loosening them. He tugs at the shoulders of her dress, dragging them down with her chemise below, following the reveal of bare skin with his lips and tongue.

Guildford draws her dress down further, baring the soft swell of her breasts to his gaze. He leans down to press a kiss to the center of chest, before dragging his mouth over to capture a nipple between his lips. It’s Jane’s turn to gasp at the sensation of a cool mouth around her breasts, his tongue teasing her nipples into stiff peaks. Her arms are still trapped within her dress so she works herself free until she’s able to reach for him again, threading her fingers through his hair and holding him to her as his mouth continues to drive her crazy. 

Jane takes a moment to consider that she’s halfway bared to the outside world at this point, practically writhing in Guildford’s lap, in the woods where she was attacked not once but twice tonight. But she can’t bring herself to care about her modesty or her safety when Guildford is doing such wonderful things to her body. She lets her head fall back and her hips rock forward, trying to satisfy the heat building between her thighs.

Guildford surges up to meet her lips, groaning as her hips continue to roll into his. “Gods, I want you.”

She kisses him harder at the words, grinding down into his lap. 

Just as suddenly he pulls away, ducking his head between them. But not before she catches a glimpse of sharpened teeth. She hadn’t even noticed them come out.

Something drips down from her lip. Jane touches the back of her hand to her chin, drawing it away to see the darkened stain smeared across it. Blood. Was that hers? She touches her fingers to her bottom lip, wincing a little at the sting of it. When had it even happened?

“Jane, I’m so so…” Guildford starts, still not looking at her. 

“It’s alright, I didn’t even feel it,” she tries to reassure him. 

“It’s not alright!” He whispers harshly, head still hanging. “You didn’t ask for any of this. You didn’t ask to have a vampire as a husband.”

“I didn’t ask for a husband at all,” the joke falls flat to her own ears.

She feels him go rigid beneath her.

“Right, of course not.” She can feel him let out a shuddery breath before finally looking at her, teeth blunted and an unreadable expression on his. “You still want a divorce.”

She can’t tell if it’s a statement or a question.

“I do,” she manages to get out. “We had a deal.”

Part of her - a shockingly large part of her in this moment - wants to amend that deal to allow for this, whatever was about to happen between the two of them. But she knows that it can’t, that it would never work. It will only complicate their eventual separation.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers as she pulls herself back up to standing on shaky legs. She turns from Guildford as she works her dress back over her arms, suddenly aghast at herself for letting things go this far out in the open like this. She takes what privacy she can to pull herself back together. 

It’s unbelievably awkward trying to get re-dressed without being able to retreat to their respective rooms. And she discovers rather unfortunately that the laces on her dress are a two person job. But she ties it off as best she can and reaches down for her cloak, hoping to cover the fact her dress hangs loosely off her shoulders still. 

She turns back to find Guildford looking more respectable at least, if a little blank. 

“You should grab one of the swords, just in case,” he says.

Jane hastily grabs the lighter of the two, tucking it into her belt and beneath her cloak. 

The walk back to the estate isn’t much better. Jane almost finds herself wishing for another attempt on her life just to break the silence, but they make it back without running across another soul. Jane hurries to retreat to her bedroom and is surprised to find that Guildford follows, shutting the door behind him.

“What are you…?” She’s too on edge to think of a nice way to ask.

“Jane, someone sent the Kingsland guard to kill you tonight. I’m not about to leave you here alone.”

He says it kindly, and she knows he’s wrong, but something in her still bristles at the idea of needing protection. And she’s not entirely sure she can deal with having him in her bedroom right now. She tries to think of some alternative.

“You still need to heal,” she reasons. “If you think we need safety in numbers I’ll come with you to the stables.”

“I’m not the one that needs protecting.”

“Yes, but I’m better with a sword, so clearly I should be the lookout.”

He laughs, and doesn’t disagree, and it almost feels normal again for a moment. 

“And you want to stay all night in the stables?”

“I managed just fine last night,” she reminds him unthinkingly, and feels the air go heavy between them again.

“Right,” he says, clearly at a loss for anything else to say.

The fight immediately leaves her. The reminders of how messed up this thing is between them would only be worse out there. 

“Can you at least turn around while I get into bed?” She capitulates.

He does so. It’s easy enough to get out of her still mostly undone dress, tossing it aside along with her cloak and belt, kicking her shoes and stocking wherever they land. She should really wash up but she finds she’s suddenly too exhausted to even contemplate it. So she throws herself under the covers, on the side of the bed furthest from Guildford and facing the opposite wall. She doesn’t exactly know whether he means to join her but she means to be prepared for it.

Instead she hears the scrape of his usual armchair being pulled in front of the door, and the sounds of him settling in. Apparently he really does mean to watch over her all night.

“We’ll switch off in the morning,” she murmurs, putting up one last token resistance. 

“Whatever you need, Jane,” he whispers as she feels sleep pulling her into its embrace.

****

No one else comes for them in the night. Instead, she wakes to a royal messenger at the door, bringing news from the palace. 

King Edward has died. And he’s named Jane as his successor.

[stackthedeck]

Who’s Gwenpool’s favorite superhero? Has it been said?

It hasn't been explicitly stated as far as I'm aware, she's supposed to be a general super fan kinda reader which gives her an advantage over all characters because she knows everything, but we can make a couple guesses about who her favorites are

For one, we know it's not Deadpool, she actually doesn't read any of his comics which I think is a hilarious little detail

This is her room in the real world and we can see she's got a thor plushie and poster as well as a spider-man plushie and poster. There's also iron man, wolverine, hulk, and captain America stuff. Fair to say she's problem more of an avengers fan than an x stan

and then this is her room in 616, still pretty avengers heavy, but it's got heroes that she's met already (except Captain Marvel and She-Hulk). Gwen was reading a Miles comic in her universe so obviously, she liked him before, but I do think she picks her favorite heroes currently by how willing they are to hang out with her

She also just is so dedicated to getting Miles to hang out with her. Peter Parker was in unbelievable Gwenpool for one issue and Gwen didn't even try anything. But with Miles, she really wants to be on a team with him, he's a major player in her first solo series because she's always seeking him out

If she's shown reading a comic, it's always a spider-man comic the one she's reading here is Spider-Man double trouble with Peter and venom

Given this evidence I think it's safe to say she's biased towards Spider-Man, valuing both Miles and Peter just in different ways. This makes sense with her first attempt to get superpowers being her trying to get Peter to bite her so she gets Spider powers.

That being said...there's your favorite hero and then there's the hero that's your favorite because you've got a crush on them. It's pretty obvious that Gwen has no romantic feelings toward Miles...but there are other heroes who she's kinda weird around

There's a theory that Gwen has a crush on Jane Foster because of the whole wall shoving thing and how flustered she was. I personally like this idea and you know she's got a picture of her in her room

She is, unfortunately, a stucky shipper which like...girl you're a comics fan get it together. She also mentions wanting to see the winter soldier movie when in the pocket dimension working at the movie theatre so I think it's fair to assume she thinks they're hot

now you might be saying what about Reed Richards, she's canonically kissed him and to that I say, it was literally just a scheme to stay relevant. Check out Gwenpool strikes back #2 if you don't believe me (also check it out because it implies that Johnny isn't into women at all which... okay)

but my final answer is

Kamala Khan! Gwen literally calls her best girl and you know what Kamala is one of the only heroes that is consistently kind and compassionate with Gwen, often being the only one to explain the rules of this world and recognize her as perhaps mentally ill. I don't think Kamala was Gwen's favorite before entering the superhero world, but I think just being around her and the other heroes has shifted her perspective

[wildernessuntothemselves]

I went to see TXT' concert and I had send off and they're all so sweet with fans, but I feel like I'm having a crisis. Idk if this would be considered disillusionment or not. Like they're really trying their best to interact with everyone, but I just feel so small and insignificant ☹️ I know that's kinda what you sign up for as a fan, like ofc we're all a collective mass to them, but that sad little feeling that I'll always love them so much more just kinda kills me inside. My mentally ill ass wasn't built for the stan lifestyle it seems.

Thank you for reading all this ❤️❤️

Also Beomgyu is so tiny, like no way this man is 180cm, he could fit in the palm of my hand, right in my pocket. He gives such a tiny vibe and the fact that he's the skinniest little baby ever, only makes him look smaller 😭😭

I totally get it. We can get so invested in an artist and feel like we're close to them through videos and fan content but when you're in a concert you realize just how many others like you are around and that the artist, though they may love and appreciate the fandom as a whole, will never have the same kind of relationship to you that you have to them and it can kinda feel like unrequited love.

This might be a good thing though. It's a reminder that though artists and their art can be quite important in your life, it will never trump real life relationships and experiences.

Anyway, what did they look like irl? Were you close to the stage? Anyone look better or worse irl? Gimme the tea 😂

[missingn000]

Writing down my thoughts as I go:

What the heck is Sukuna's deal? With Geto there were clearly two layers to his thoughts, one hidden under the other, but with Sukuna it's like it all got blended into toxic soup.

And also, why do I get the impression he likes most of the cast? It reminds me of ender's game, which states you can't truly understand someone unless you love them. Sukuna and Yuuji both give me that vibe, that they see so deeply because they love so hard.

Someone please give Sukuna and Yuuji a hug. They are both spilling grief and pain off the page like they are made of it.

Hey, what the fuck is this?: "But Sukuna always lies, except to Yuuji, and Yuuji sometimes lies, but not to Sukuna. "

"I can't be selfish" The use of can't specifically suggests trauma related to it.

I don't remember what size you said Sukuna is in the mindspace, but the image of him being able to pick up Yuuji like a child is weirdly poignant.

It's nice to see how blisteringly smart Sukuna is. The anime made it clear that he was, but they never properly explored it.

Toge saying that Sukuna wants Yuuji dead more than anyone is such a painful contrast. Like everyone else thinks it's a straight forward evil demon possession situation while Yuuji and Sukuna are having a goddamn Shakespearean tragedy inside their souls.

I what. Sukuna is cursed? I mean obviously, but like Rika is?

Glad the kids have finally met their other parent.

OMFG i cackled right off the bat with “what the heck is sukuna’s deal”? GOOD QUESTION. it’s truly a mystery. his thoughts are a swirling pot of mental illness potion, it’s like the man took the DSM-5 and decided to eat it for breakfast. i have no choice but to stan

also, WHY WOULD YOU HURT ME LIKE THAT WITH THE ENDERS GAME REFERENCE (/pos) oh my god i love that interpretation SO much. they’re both such intense people in different ways, and are deeply affected by everyone around them, whether they want to be or not (especially in sukuna’s case.) these two both need a hug so badly, especially from each other, but damn it ain’t happening anytime soon. “spilling grief and pain off the page like they are made of it” you really said that in the most painful but accurate way possible

sukuna is the same size as yuuji in his mindspace, but it would be interesting if he looked a little older! also i agree that i wish we could’ve seen how smart sukuna actually is, but gege decided to make his plans with megumi as straightforward and uninteresting as possible. WELL. we dont do that around here

auughh yeah it’s such a gutting contrast. everyone for the most part takes sukuna at face-value, but there’s so much hurt and grief between him and yuuji beneath the surface that neither will let anyone else see. they hide so much from each other, but due to their ability to read emotions, it just ends up widening the rift between them.

yup, sukuna’s cursed! remember what kenjaku said in ch40 when kashimo asked if sukuna was cursed? he quotes:

“I always thought it amusing they bothered with an execution and an exorcism,” Kenjaku finally answers, delicate fingers unwinding the braid from his hair. “Nothing can undo what those two words did to him.”

thanks for reading!! <333

[lunarbun87]

Ofmd season 2 Finale rant (BIG Spoilers and big feelings)

I don't think I'd go so far to damn the writing of the show or even be mad at the writers. I understand there were some budget cuts and it's understandable that things didn't feel right/felt rushed because of that. But emotionally, to me (who is a mentality ill softy), Izzy's death hit so so so bad. I identified so closely with this character and the direction they were going with him seemed to invite viewers to get attached (which may have been the point but that's kinda cheap). As this season went on, I was thrilled to see that stupid asshole be happy! The idea that even if you're a nightmare, even if you've been a bad friend or partner, you can change, you may not 'deserve' love and care but there will still be those who will love and care for you, and it's your responsibility to rise to the occasion and be a better man for them, for your family, for your community, for your crew, that everyone can find self-love and acceptance for being their true self. I was so invested in this narrative that the final episode hit me out of nowhere hard. Izzy dies, telling his closest friend to let him die, that Ed doesn't need him, he's sorry for all he did, etc. I get that this is good for Ed's character development but in that moment, it hit like a suicide note to me, like dead ass things I've thought or said during a really suicidal moment (and it especially hits that way because of everything he's lived through, and all the near death experiences everyone has survived, it's like he chose to die). And everyone is just staring at him, no reactions, Ed is upset but honestly kinda calm for someone losing his very long term friend. Like I understand they had a really challenging and toxic relationship, but like that's a man who was devoted to you for a long time, a man whose taking the full responsibility for his part in things and has been growing, a man who you literally disabled but is still apologizing to you on his deathbed!!! Just the underwhelming reaction from every character hit so fucking bad, like a real 'no one will mourn you' or 'so anyway' moment. And then everyone is happy, there's a wedding, Ed and Stede get their Inn, celebration all around. The juxtaposition of these two scenes almost feels like we're celebrating Izzy's death, which felt super icky as someone who thought he was really bonding with the crew, it felt like he was still unloved, uncared for, still an outcast. I mean maybe I'm just a crazy little Izzy stan but I was really thinking they were gonna maybe give him a love interest or maybe when he sees that Ed is no longer Blackbeard, he realizes he needs to find himself, that he should live his life in devotion to himself instead of a capitan. Idk, I just felt there were so many ways you could take his character, but now I just feel so very bleak and pessimistic about it all. Like (and I know this is my silly haha bpd hell brain speaking) seeing no one deeply mourn for a character you see yourself in and everyone just move on really triggered me, like more than I expected, it felt like I was seeing validation for all my worst thoughts. I know this wasn't the writers intention, I don't blame them for this interpretation, but it just sat so poorly. Cause if this is how they're going to do him, if everyone is just gonna shrug and move on, then maybe Izzy's mistrust and defenses were valid, Izzy thought no one cared about him and it felt like (in death) that was true. It throws into question all the healing, if he still dies focused on Ed, and convinced no one needs him. Thank you for listening to my emotional take 🤙 Again no hate to the creators or people who loved the finale, this is just how it hit me.

[a-few-of-my-favorite-mangas]

Star⇄Crossed!!

Story and Art by Junko

Manga Volume 1-4 [END]

Shoujo, Comedy, Drama, Romance, Body-Swap

Story  ★★★☆☆    ||   ★★★☆☆   Art

Summary

Azusa lives for only one man: Chika-kun, of the idol group Prince 4 U. But when she accidentally dies trying (and failing) to save him, she can't believe her luck -- to be in literal Heaven with the man she loves! But never one to lie, God says this one is on him, and sends them both back to continue their lives... but there's just one little problem. Their souls have been sent to the wrong bodies! 

Not knowing the cause of the switch, Azusa is a bit agitated... Chikashi's manager, Matsumoto, knows about the switching, and as a countermeasure, he has Chikashi transfer into Azusa's high school...?! The confrontation between her student life and her life as a fan has Azusa's heart pounding non-stop!!

Azusa is forced to hop into the bath with the other P4U members in Chika's body -- but apparently, she can't handle the heat of seeing the other members in the buff! And not only that, she realizes in her semi-conscious state that their leader, Haru... is KISSING HER?! When Azusa learns of Haru's secret feelings, she tries desperately to avoid him in a bid to protect Chika's virtue, but neither of them is willing to back down without a fight... When a die-hard idol junkie confronts her popular idol rival, you know the fireworks are about to fly -- after all, these Stans can't be friends!! 

Chikashi has decided to once again pursue his dream of becoming an actor, something he had given up on when he was a child actor, and the distance between him and Azusa who supports that dream is steadily closing... However, the situation suddenly changes when Arisu Akane, Chikashi's ex-girlfriend, appears before them!! And Chikashi collapses while clutching his chest...?!  When the trigger for their body switching finally becomes clear, they find out it's tied to their lives...?! They're in desperate and dire straits! 

Review

This was a short and sweet series, from the same creator of ‘Kiss Him, Not Me,’ and has a similar tone and comedy as that series. In fact at the end of each volume is a short from that series that gives you a little more on what happened to those characters after the series ended. The main is just as excitable and fanatic about her interests and her dedication to her idol, that it borders on a mental illness obsession, not sure I really liked the over all relationship as it is mostly one-sided and thus harder for me to relate to. 

The ending seems kinds abrupt, there is an ending of sorts to try and wrap everything up, but it is really rushed and still left kinda open-ended, at least as far as correcting the body-switching. It was a satisfying end, but shame it didn’t get a few more volumes to be able to flush it out more. The relationship needed more time to feel like it works, especially on his end. Felt more like he is just stuck with her, and resigned to it, because, well he has no choice, and she is 100% loyal and self-sacrificing, so it could be worse? 

[thestangossip]

Teacher anon here! I wrote everything half asleep over pizza after Saturday parent semester meetings and after rereading what I wrote I realized I rambled a tad without circling back to my full thought and want to finish it while I’m not snoozing in pepperoni grease.

As a teacher, I’m flattered when my students want to jokingly call me mom or want hugs or comfort when things are rough. I’m absolutely okay with that as long as it’s clear that I’m not their replacement parent and any hug has to be with other people around and not full frontal body. I’m fulfilled as a person to not have my own kids with how much love I have for my students, I’d do anything for them. And they know this. Some kids photoshopped my face onto Rambo after the Uvalde shooting when I told them I’d take down an army on my own before I let anything happen to them.

But at the end of the day, I’m not their legal guardian. I’m an adult in power regardless of my gender who has to draw lines that they may not understand or know about now but will appreciate when they’re older. I’ve happily held a middle school male student who cried hard when his sister passed away unexpectedly and his parents gave me the okay. I’ve happily let kids eat lunch with me in my classroom with the door wide open and let neighboring teachers know, and I’m known as the fun openly gay teacher who wears witty t-shirts with fitted jeans and colorful blazers and costume jewelry who will always show up for all of their recitals and what not at school. I brag that I’m the proud mama bear of 332 kids in the 10+ years I’ve been doing this, and I mean it with how I keep their gifts and still hang up their drawings and letters on my wall far after they’ve graduated. Because I get how wonderful it is to bond with someone who looks up to you knowing you’re a safe place for them be themselves while being loved and accepted unconditionally.

Which brings me to Pedro. Again, I’m not a fan or a Stan and what I know is from this blog and glancing at other tumblrs when I’m feeling nosey. He seems like a genuinely good but greatly insecure man who appears to form really tight but unhealthy and fleeting relationships with people in his life regardless of age or gender. For that reason, his fans need to hold him to a greater standard with younger costars regardless of their legality. Would they be okay with this if it were Leo DiCaprio that Bella was doing this to? No. Thank you to that anon for bringing that video up cause it proved my point further that this bond Bella has seems to be with just Pedro and that’s a major red flag regardless if she’s a legal adult now. He knew her at 17. If any of my students held me and rubbed up against me like that as students or recent graduates I’d be fired. I’d have to go to meetings and a school appointed therapist to determine if I’m fit to be around kids and I could have my licenses revoked. And no, I’m not being overly dramatic. Being a teacher accused of inappropriate behaviors has major consequences that can ruin your career for life. And yes, even if it’s a former student because it makes the school wonder how long that was going on for and with who else.

Pedro and older actors of any gender need to step back and ask if they behaved like this at any other job, how would this come off? What would the consequences be? What can they do to form a healthy relationship while being responsible for their own accountability with a young ward who has mental illnesses and anxieties? Forcing this cute narrative because fans are projecting their image of fatherhood onto Pedro is unhealthy and is what leads to older people in Hollywood taking advantage of anxiety riddled young stars with codependency issues. If Bella is THAT anxious, she needs a support animal and therapist to give her the tools needed to form and enforce healthy boundaries with men like Pedro who don’t know how to draw those lines themselves. Pedro can trust himself all he wants, but that doesn’t mean we do as viewers and he needs to make clear boundaries on media platforms because yes he does owe us that as a responsible adult with a former child costar just like any adult working with kids and young adults. I know I’d never be inappropriate with a student, but I still keep my doors open and my boundaries clear to guardians and fellow teachers that I’m trustworthy and responsible rather than gaslight them for thinking otherwise. I’ll continue to side eye him and anyone else who tries to disagree, because Pedro is not an exception to any rule regardless of parasocial ideas of who he is when none of us know him or what he’s capable of behind closed doors and I really hope Bella can find the appropriate help she needs to maintain a friendship with Pedro or anyone as a legal adult without relying on them as a cure for her anxieties.

You bring up so many points.

[mybiasisexo]

Sorry for venting…

I think it’s really scary to think we’re basically stanning strangers. They make us happy. Then things like THAT happen. Of course it’s an nct member (I don’t stan them). But… in many cases it’s korean men, but always men..!!! I always realize I hate men.

I don’t want think about it but can you imagine… if it was one of the exos…?? I’d be SOO devastated, disappointed. I just… I love them… then I’m always like “no, they can’t be, they could never”. And one day just… you’ll never know.

I’m sorry for the victims and fans. I hope they’ll find real happiness. Don’t expect anything from idols anymore, they’re just there to make music. :(

no pls vent away bc these are my thoughts exactly!!!

it is so so scary esp bc you think the best of somebody and while youre posting your love for them theyre doing sinister shit behind the scenes. I want to see the good in ppl but its hard when its constantly reaffirmed that celebs cannot be trusted. at the end of the day theyre just trying to sell us something 😔

im so terrified of men. i hide it under a 'i hate men' guise but literally one of my biggest fears is loving a man and he ends up being a terrible person and hurts me/my family. its one of the reasons i dont date, ive watched the movie Enough ok??

I keep thinking this too, if an exo member gets revealed to be this kind of person i genuinely think it will mess me up. like idek what will happen but i will NOT be ok thats for sure. kr*s was bad enough...ill prob lose ALL faith in men

it just makes me a bit more vigilant. i have to keep reminding myself that it could happen, and i have to mentally prepare myself for that moment if it ever comes. whatever skeletons they got in their closets better stay there im not playing!!!!

the scariest thing about this whole situation is that its t*eil who has a perfect reputation. its def giving if hes capable of doing this then none of us are really safe. i do hope this case brings more stories to the surface so we can purge the industry of all these horrible ppl bc i know theres more and they dont deserve the platform or power.

i too hope the victim gets justice and i feel for the fans. this is not an easy thing to come to terms with and i know it can make you doubt everything and trust less, but i hope ppl arent blaming themselves. how were we supposed to know????

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

Y'all what the freak :D

UH OHH

I don't like those looks guys o.o

HE BETTER BE ALIVE

Okay phew I can take a ventilator 😭😭

Maddiee 😭😭❤️

UUAGH HE BETTER BE

AWWWW y'alllll 😭😭😭💔

UAAAAGHHHHH I DON'T DESERVE THISSSS

DON'T DO THIS TO HER 😭😭😭😭💔💔💔🥺❤️❤️

OR ME 😭😭😭😭🥺💔💔❤️

OR ANY OF THE REST OF THEM!!! 😭😭😭💔🥺❤️

NOOOOOOO

He's gonna be fine o.o

I DO. NOT. LIKE. THOSE EXPRESSIONS

UAAGHHHHHH 😭😭😭😭😭😳😳😬😬😬😬💔💔

NOT OKAY Y'ALL. O.O 😭😭

AAAAHHHHHHH

Guys it's gonna be fine 😌😌😌

I'm not gonna make it guys xdd xD

Well, that's the last of my last thoughts, now it's time for the. . .

REVIEW

I absolutely LOOOVED this episode!! It was SO GOOD!! Even though I hated most of the stuff that happened xdd. It's just so good story wise and so emotional and dramatic 😭😭❤️ xd.

Also I forgot to say this earlier but as a commercial started (I believe right after the last Wilson family scene - not last as in last, last in the episode 😭😭) I was like: "I shouldn't beat up mentally ill people. It's wrong. Eddie 😌😑😐" XDD don't remember exactly but it was something along those lines and I was real for it xdd

Also I might go back and add some more specific reactions at some points when I rewatch bits, I just forgot specific words or orders of things because I was so behind lol. And because everything was so emotional constantly xdd it was always the drama 😭😭 xD. Loved it though lol.

I did often talk loudly about killing people though xD

Anyway!! I'm gonna head off now, see you later :DD. Add more before this in the main section as well by the way lol. Bye for now!!

Okay, I'm back (a week later) lol! Now it's time for the individual parts :).

Buck and Tommy! Once again thriving, in their lane, living their best lives 😌😌😌🥰. They're so cute y'all <3. Anyway Buck was an ICON with that look to Gerrard lol, and he slayed with he cooking :D! Also UAGH HIM AND BOBBY'S CONVERSATION 😭😭😭❤️ THE SEVEN YEARS THE TELLING EACH OTHER HOW PROUD AND GRATEFUL THEY ARE FOR EACH OTHER THE TALK ABOUT TOMMY AAAAHHHHHHHH!!!! I love them so much guys 😭😭😭😭❤️❤️🥺🥰. Also Buck dealing with the whole Kim thing xD. Bro was baffled, as he should be lol. But genuinely his conversation with Eddie was really good, and I'm glad he didn't back off and just let Eddie get away with it <3. And the "I'm worried about you" OUAGH I'm still not over it guys 😭😭❤️. More on that later. Anyway, I love them (Buck and Eddie, and Buck and Tommy) so much <33.

Ravi! He was such a mood with that food thing lol. An icon, we stan (and agree) <333. I love him ❤️🥰 <33.

Hen and Karen! WHEN I TELL YOU I'M READY TO B E A T THIS LADY-

Listen okay xD. I get why she's doing what she's doing, but she's insane. Like girl. Also I knew she would pull out the ambulance in that conversation and so then when she didn't I was confused but NAH she was just saving it for extra emotional damage 😭. Girl was waiting for a double points square xdd. Anyway, the scene where they were taking Mara away was genuinely so heartbreaking D:. And like y'all ik you have to take her but you can give them 30 seconds, my gosh!! Anyway they are a family 😭😭😭😭🥺💔❤️❤️, and they better get her back <33. I love them so much <33 :').

Maddie and Chimney! Once again, living their best life, thriving, doing great 😌😌🥰. Once again as in I said that earlier, they rarely are lol. Anyway, they're icons and STOPPP THE ROSEEE :'DDD. They're so cute y'all I can't even <33. AND AAAUAGH THEY'RE MARRIEDDD!!! Y'all I still can't believe it :'D. Also Chimney talking to and about Gerrard absolutely slayed 💀 xD. He was an icon for that o.o <333. They were great this episode (though I realized afterwards - no calls :O), I love them so much <33.

Eddie!

😐

Sir xd. Let's talk lol.

Okay, listen. I'm glad he told Kim, and I'm glad he finally got some form of closure on Shannon. And that scene was absolutely heartbreaking, by the way, Ryan ate this episode up. But MY GOSH 😭😭😭😤😤. THE WAY I WANTED TO KILL THIS MAN (EDDIE)!!! LIKE, SIR!! I know he's going through it but my gosh 😭. Bro was killing me xD. Genuinely though, I really loved his and Buck's conversation, I thought it was really great. And I'm glad he finally admitted it (even if he was forced to) - if there's anyone it would be to, it would be Buck :'D. My lovelies <33. Eddie saying he was worried about himself broke me 😭😭😭🥺💔💔❤️. And then yes, I'm SO glad he told Kim right after that (and I felt really awful for her :((), but that ending scene of them o.o. A, girly, why? I- you are so gone on him. It's a nice thing to do (try and give him closure), but just- what. And I'm glad Eddie tried to not because that's WEIRD y'all, but then that whole monologue broke me again 😭😭😭😭🥺🥺💔💔💔💔❤️. Like SIR!!! The "I'm broken" bit my GOSH 😭😭😭💔💔🥺❤️. The acting was seriously amazing. And then OOUGH CHRIS AND MARISOL COMING IN AT THE END O.O Y'all I assumed Chris was like in bed or something xD. Why would Eddie do this ESPECIALLY knowing they were going to be coming home soon xdd. Anyway, it looked like it was just a hug but in post episode stills I think there was a kiss? So I don't even know what's going on there xd. But oh my gosh poor Chris 😭. Boy must've been so confused :((. Rough on him, definitely <33. Anyway, I just hope everything works out xdd.

Bobby and Athena! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! Listen y'all 😭😭😭. They are it up this episode but they killed me doing it xd. Bobby how DARE YOU RESIGN, AND THEN HAVE AN EMOTIONAL MONTAGE OF GROWTH ON ME!!! RUDE!!! STOP IT!!!! And I am SO glad Athena didn't just stand by and let it happen (a theme this episode, it seems - good on her and Buck) when she knew it was out of character. And her going to find Amir to try and help Bobby :')). I really wish he would/could've after coming that far though 😭. Especially because.him being there and leaving surely pushed Bobby farther, though that conversation did need to happen. And that conversation 😭😭🥺. Dude it killed me. I'm so glad they brought up the rooftop in season 2, didn't just brush over it and revealed how Athena felt about it. It's understandable, and it's one of those things people want you to sweep under the rug :'((. I'm glad she kept an eye out for it again, because it was needed here 😭. I don't know that it would go that far, hit Bobby's in a seriously dark place. And that DREAM, UAOAUAGHH!!! The way Bobby seemed kind of childlike, back to his old self when he would've been having that conversation 😭😭, and the fact that he still refused a drink!! I'm not okay guys 😭😭😭😭😭🥺🥺. I am glad his dad dream version did kind of support him though lol xD, like it wasn't an evil vision it was one telling him to wake up, trying to help him. AND MY GOSH THAT WAKING UP O.O. AND, MY GOSH DID IT HLEP XDD. But y'all 😳. I'm so glad they both got out, and I am SO happy that Athena is okay 😭😭❤️, and I was stressing, BUT MY GOSH BOBBY!!! I was like "noo he's gonna disregard himself and be injured" BUT NOPE STRAIGHT UP HEART ATTACK O.O 😭😭😭😳🥺🥺💔. Bro I'm not okay <333. HE JUST BETTER BE ALRIGHT GUYS I CAN'T TAKE THIS 😳😳😭😭😭💔💔🥺❤️. Also, I know they're trying to paint it is Amir, but I just don't think it was him. I do think it was probably intentionally set (though they could do something really interesting with everyone thinking it was, trying to investigate, and then in the end having to accept that it just happens), but I don't think it was him. He wants to leave them behind, more than anything, and that doesn't fit with burning down their house as revenge. I hope he can help figure it out though <33. Honestly if it were the cartel I wouldn't be too surprised xD. Anyway, Bobby and Athena absolutely ate <333. And they better be okay xdd 😭🥺❤️. I love them so much <333.

Overall, I really enjoyed this episode! It had some phenomenal emotional moments, and even a few great funny ones :D. It was pretty wild, and verrry intense o.o (even if some of it was Eddie pining for his ex wife and not like, someone being murdered - not pining for the victim btw xd). But I had a really good time :D. Even if I wanted to kill people a lot of the time xD. I'm terrified for the next episode lol xd . Everything better end up okay. More okay than this episode xD. It was genuinely a good episode though, with some good moments for everyone.

So yeah! I loved the episode, I thought it was great. There were a ton of great emotional moments. I'm excited and scared for the next one. This has been my review of. . .

9-1-1, Season 7, Episode 9: Ashes, Ashes

It was so amazing! I'm really excited for the next one, but I'm so terrified at the same time. They better end up okay. I'll be back next week with my review of. . .

9-1-1, Season 7, Episode 10: All Fall Down

See you then!

[rametarin]

Doomsday preppers bore me.

Speaking a little bit about my background again.

So. It's 1995-96. I'm 11-12 years old. Parents divorced, we've since moved from where we started into a trailer so I can go to school in a new town, because the old one had a teacher that was an immovable object and destroying my mental health. Mom would either have needed to stop being an utter cunt and bringing her stress home with her to take it out on me, or my teacher would have to, and rather than just stop being a cunt at me, she chose to put me in a different school in a different town.

So we moved in with my 40-something dad after my parents divorced. She was a raging bitch again, dictating things she had no right dictating, starting screaming matches over control issues and just generally causing problems and dilemmas so no one could have any peace unless they were submitting to her and giving her attention. Just privileged (the real definition, not the sociology major one) white woman shit, knowing the law at the time would stan for her no matter how much of a raging cunt she was to everyone and everything. Any excuse to kick a man out of his own home was a good excuse, and everybody knew it.

It got so bad my father took on an obscene financial burden just to buy a house down the street and stick us in it so he'd have his space back. Since mom was hellbent on getting every dollar from him and lording ownership of his property over him while both of us, his kids, were under 18.

By 1996, she had really fallen off the deep end and was being a belligerent and aggressive bitch to everyone and everything for no reason other than they weren't doing exactly as she wanted, immediately when she wanted it. Failure to do that meant she was going to just make your life miserable as a pasttime, since women do not reap physical consequences for these actions without triggering other women's "THAT COULD BE ME! I CAN'T TOLERATE THAT HAPPENING TO ANOTHER WOMAN! SHE'S A MOOOOMM!!!" response.

She started writing down her delusions in a lined notebook. She's always believed she was some sort of psychic/sensitive spiritualist. She identifies as a Christian and sees "the occult" as bad, but she believes herself to be holyer-than-thou and thus, her self-aggrandizing brand of pseudo-spirituality is centered around receiving divine prophecy. Any stupid thing she imagines, she believes is going to happen and continues to look for it. Anything she did not personally imagine, she discredits as impossible, because she didn't foresee it.

So you can have the flu and she won't give a shit and consider you exaggerating your pain and distress, but if she "prophesices" you're going be ill, she ignores how you actually feel and projects her delusions of how sick you're going to be onto you. Just, antagonize you to try and get you to play out how she imagines reality working. It's like being aggressively Live Action Roleplayed at and being stuck in that awkward moment where you won't do what she imagined is true.

It's a kind of narcissism where she's both acting as well as deluding herself to try and convince herself and those around her of her preferred way of seeing the world. She AGGRESSIVELY tries to gaslight reality itself. That level of audaciousness and pride is just, 10/10 asshole. And it's exposure to this raging, consequence-free, insulated piece of shit that has forced me to intolerance when dealing with them. Because like any petty dictator, you can be as deluded and egotistical as you want so long as you make OTHER PEOPLE die or suffer for your delusions. She sacrificed my health, safety and future by forcing my participation in her delusions as a consequence of living around and with her, so whenever she faced setbacks, she demanded I somehow MAKE her delusions work, or not only did I get punished by the consequences of her disgusting decisions independent of her response to it, but I was given the blame for them when they failed. Like it was my ass that filled the room with canned food until the cheap plastic shelves collapsed.

So anyway. By 1997, she had a raging "I'm just, like, psychic, y'know?" boner of self-importance, and she looked around to find literature that'd compliment and play along with her delusions. She was depressed, and the only reason she wasn't suicidal was because she was too prideful to die while we, he kids, were still young and dependent. But, she was miserable. Independent of anything else, she wanted a situation where she could die but be utterly blameless for it.

In fact, she wanted to go to heaven but it be God's will, but god wasn't cooperating. Outside a few panic attacks, she was fit as a fat flabby fiddle. Dispirited, she started diving into literature that confirmed her bias and found a culture of similar doomer-boomers online, from similar backgrounds and attitudes. She found the world of Christian online rapturism.

Now, when one imagines these, they imagine a very top-down hierarchy of cultists preaching to ignorant, receptive, submissive sheep about bible scripture and what for sure is going to happen. This is not true. Each person in that room that is not the preacher has certain expectations for them to confirm their bias and say what they want said, and the preachers that would be popular have to read the room to figure out their bend, biases and what they want, in order to affirm the bias. They are only giving these supposed preachers the power over them to fit that role. If the preacher starts dictating things they don't believe, they lose their top-from-the-bottom narcsisstic flock and wind up followerless. They aren't all a bunch of Pentacostal tongue speakers babbling nonsense or Catholics LARPing demon exorcisms.

So she joined these 'prepper' forums where boomerdoomers talk about how the end for sure is coming you gais, it's prophesized in dur by-bull.

The number of nights I had to listen to this stupid bitch moaning and diatribing to herself about "the mark of the beast" being an ID chip for some dystopian cyberpunk world, and microchips in milk and other stupid shit, were far too many. Chemtrails being poison by some nebulous government agency poisoning the air (JUST FUCKING WAKES OF PLANES YOU DUMB CUNT) and, just, an endless cavalcade of confirmation biases for her delusions. And every single one gave her the confidence to fake it until she made it about The Rapture being right around the corner.

The truth was, I think, she hated the idea of "being used" by us, her kids. Me, in particular. We'd finally gotten stable to where, as a nurse, she was pulling in between 65 to 70K a year in 1990s money. She wasn't paying rent or a mortgage, because the house we lived in was owned by my father, they were divorced, and him paying the mortgage was basically like child support since it meant she didn't have to pay rent to live anywhere. That was easily $1,200 a month in savings.

So how did this selfish cunt spend the savings? Was it on securing new cars to get from A to B? Was it on college educations for us, her kids? School supplies? A second car, so I'd be able to get to and from a job in order to make my own money?

No. She blew what savings that would've come from that out of her disgusting cottage cheese ass on frivolous feel-goods. Going out to the movies every weekend, buying movies, buying junk food, driving around waaaaay more miles than was good for the car, paying automotive bills from using the car too much, throwing fistfuls of money to lord how she was "the good sister" and a martyr and oh how her sisters abused her generosity, at all her sisters.

And she expected ME to get a job, put a car in her name, buy the car, have absolutely no control over where I could go with it, no right to drive it without her explicit direction and permission, but all responsibility to take care of it from maintenance to gas money (and she loves to just ride around in circles for no other reason than to wastegas.) And wanted all my future minimum wage dollars to go towards paying her bills..

So she could, again, blow more of her own money out of her ass. Which she patted herself on the back for by taking the initiative and spending, whether we wanted her to or not, to then wail and scream about how we "owed her" and she'd expect us to fork over our income when we were making any.

So from 1997 to 2002, conveniently from the time I went from 13-18, this world class cunt became the most insufferable, entitled, antagonistic, greedy bitch in the world. Every minute of the day had to be about her, every dollar had to be about her delusions, every inch of space in the house was taken up by her spending exorbinant amounts of money on canned foods and powdered milk and other nonsense until just moving through the house was an episode of Hoarders.

No matter how much I might say, "We HAVE NO MORE FUCKING ROOM!" She'd just buy more because, "IT WAS ON SAAAAAALE. MAKE ROOM!!" and make it my responsibility to Tetris-block rearrange her shit so we could fit more into the way too small house.

It wasn't bad enough that she was keeping us poor as fuck by only investing in her delusional, "seven years of tribulations and strife" food, preceding the rapture. But that she filled the house with her shit, and forced me to participate in moving it around. Forcing other people to normalize your delusions is a power move intended to dominate and control the environment and setting in which other people live. It's a way to try and impose reality onto them by forcing them to interact with it on your terms.

I couldn't have any social life, money to go with other people, or even build my own future, because this disgusting cunt wanted to LARP out some fantasy that god would swoop down, alleviate her need to kill herself to escape reality, and bring her up to heaven while everybody she disagreed with burned in hell beneath her. But I didn't want to surrender to the state and just become homeless.

I wanted her to snap the fuck out of it. I thought she was just a proud moron, not rotten to her core evil. I know better now, but I will never, ever give anyone the benefit of the doubt like this again. You show me who you really are once, I'll believe you, even after you claim to change. Because the reality she was going to be not just worthless but a detriment to my life was too cold and horrible to imagine for teenaged me. The reality was worse than I ever could've imagined.

She never got better. Even after her date of 2000 new years when the rapture was supposed to happen, the world didn't end. Nor did it happen on new years 2001. So we go into 2001, and she's still talking about "any day now." Since she married herself to the idea Jesus was going to beam us up and there was no reason to invest in the future because God made sure heaven was going to be our future.

I was going to turn 18 in summer of 2002. I figured she'd see that she'd been foolish and just went through a rough spell, mentally, and would recover.

And then fall 2001, 9/11 happened. She got back on her bullshit and being irrational and unreasonable. With added bigotry towards Islam above and beyond the antipathy that Islamototalitarianism deserves.

Then that stupid murmuring of prophecy shit caught in her dumbass Doomsday prepper online forums, and 2012 became the next big date of global catastrophe. Which, surprise surprise to people in 2024, was another great big fat fucking nothingburger.

I have no patience or tolerance for doomerboomers. I know exactly what you are. It's ugly, it's selfish, it's ignorant, it's mentally diseased and it belongs in a god damned nuthouse.

The only reason I didn't try to have the stupid bitch committed was she was just functional enough to provide a bit of money for my grandparents (her parents) to keep them out of complete poverty.

Well. Both my grandparents are dead, now. And all her sisters and brothers (my aunts and uncles) are despicable, selfish, delusional assholes that I wouldn't piss on to put them out if they were on fire. She's no less psychotic and insufferable now than in the 00s. Less so, even. I lose nothing and hurt no one if telling the police about her would get her put on the funny farm.

Anyway. Yeah, the eclipse brought out people like her in droves, and it made me angry.

[the-firebird69]

So going down there and here and we see that there are a bunch of jerks it's starting to hear something I don't care for a son that's talking all this they're having to talk these people are complete assholes meaning from 1 to 100 they match up with every point that says that they're spend they're still sitting next to him they have no couthy we're doing the work though you think that it's fake or something and they are kicking their own ass you think it's an effective and everybody's reading it so there's something stupid about that and a lot of people saying these people are full of crap and they're doing all sorts of things and trying to take all sorts of stuff but it's not a great deception and they get caught but he does have the traits of a pure a****** and nobody can stand him and he's yelling and screaming being an evil person making fun of everyone taking stuff beating people up and nobody want oh thank you very much and thank you and the sandwich game but nobody wants to deal with him and nobody wants him around and nobody wants Trump around or Terry cheesman and Garth on the whole game of idiot always picking on her son completely picking up right now just sitting there about to do they don't really have any options they made enemy friends or the enemies and no everyone hates them. All sorts of people want them out like gone everybody that we talk to of ours and practically everybody else so can't figure out why they're there let's try poking around and getting answers. There's about 10,000 people listening to Dan trying to see if it has stuff. Who's wearing and saying it's not going well did he dump too much information. It's with the clones and some others and he thinks she can escape things our son is nothing. Love you more or less had it with them. Well something's telling them it's probably the max and you need to f*** off they don't seem to want to do that. It's a call from Stan have the empire is taking his fleet and you're saying I said thank you very much you airhead anything else you want to do says he lost his fleet and Dan's at fault and Trump and the guys can't figure it out. This is part of a mix. So soon they're arguing out loud in the jailhouse. And then let's try to growl I won't be playing for this. Started saying we're doing stuff yesterday and got caught. Finally Matt came around the corner and said shut up I put you under they said no way. Chris Browning his blabbing and blabbing he gave him a shot and he's out. And that guy is mentally ill for real. His stone cold out I have his mouth while he's sleeping you hear this so what stans against us and he stands with the empire. Cancel say the fruitcakes making him say it cuz who's the fruitcake cuz they can make him say stuff they said sorry but you're not supposed to so just like him you provoking a reaction you're looking at each other wondering why. They know why. Listen to this we want to get a big and you're saying you can't afford to says it's not trying to get big and doesn't have any money so to calm down. So they're sitting there talking and Dan is mumbling I'm going to the mental hospital that's where I belong and is out okay so they're mad they give him more. In a minute they're going to drag him to court no doing after his guys. An appointment here with plain clothesman.

There's a touchy point keeps making fun of our son no son saying there's this indigent retarded man who's f****** up everybody's plan I don't want you making fun of me so it starts talking since listen sweetie I can't use some money cuz I'm not using it. I didn't try that hard cuz I know it's coated you fat a****** and then is quiet so things are going to go on and it's a regular day here except for that it's really a minor compared to what John remillard has been doing and it's called the police on him many times about five times three of the house and two times outside it and he gets arrested every time and you really shouldn't be doing that stuff.

It's a huge number of dummies around who want to look like him die somebody else to do his character I mean they don't think of it that way cuz they're stupid but really there's a lot going on today and this is not really needed and he says it probably was it really is those two need to fight each other there's a lot of people fighting there it is a huge huge battle in war there's a number of them that are red hot does that mean I mean they are red hot and they are overflowing with people and we have to go in there and call some out every once in a while we have to pull we have to pull them out and the max are doing it too and it's disgusting so we looked at like this he thinks it's a free-for-all the guy thinks he can get away with it but really he wants to intimidate our son didn't work and people in prison beat him up because it doesn't work and he keeps doing it and it's starting intimidating him they say that's how you do it stuff like that and our son is not easy to intimidate some reactions so they think it's working and then he just says no. But these areas are red hot and there's a lot of them and they're all over Florida and they're losing the ships I don't know if losing is the right word but the ships are leaving and not coming back and really Garth is doing the same stupid s*** to him and it might be them no researching it now

We're going to publish because the dollar is a sign

Thor Freya

They're all in sophisticated it's not just Garth it's the a****** too

Shaq

[rosenecklaces]

As @elrielbliss tags said is not even only her (tho for sure she recieves a lot more for just breathing)

Is also Morrigan, the one with the "messy relationship with her friends" that if we think about it isn't any more messier than regular womanizers men in books, she is flirty indeed, and? We can say the same at Helion and how he doesn't see sex as the ultimate Relationship Thing. Then there's her attitude that again, I don't see anyone giving it shit to judgemental men at all

There's Feyre, that people wants her to decide between being an artist, mother, warrior or high lady...like, curious no one bats an eye when the men are more than one thing (they even are cheered on, especially when they become parents and get that sweet old "daddy" status) See also: Rhysand being loved even when he had hurted her, Tampon stans, Helion being considered a good dad when he doesn't even know about lucien neither raised him, etc...

Nesta? She's a bitch!, rude, mean and a dick to anyone for no reason! What does it even matter that she had shown and not tell how she's sorry? That we had saw her save people and feeling self depreciation and mental illnesses? Deep down she would never change her way and still be a cruel cunt right? She needs to Lick the floor!

Yall love lucien and eris, men that had never had apologized for their bad deeds ever in their lives (mind you, they had done 10 times worse things than her) so is crazy people can forgive and even idolize this two men that don't even treath eachother good (eris literally helped in lucien girlfriend's dead) but somehow Nesta is unredeemable

There's even Amren, she would be the typical Super Tight and Badass mysterious man in any book but somehow people not only downsplay her but also ignore her power

There's even gwyn, emerie, fortunately I haven't seen much hate for emerie but the way she is sidelined, ignored, and even had her story and heritage being used and given to white characters (nesta, gwyn, feyre) is like mhm, I just know people would had make her enter azriel and cassian illyrian buddies circles if she was a men. Gwyn is this overprotected, still kind of youthful and yeah maybe childish but there's nothing wrong to be and over excited girl, she went trought something horrible. With her I feel people either coddles her way too much or completely change this traits of her to the Max until she isn't Gwyn no more, I had never saw this happening to the "overcheering sweet extrovert" men in books, they even are called golden retrievers and are liked by precisely being who they are

Nuala and Cerridwen would had been that one "guy who only appeared for five minutes and everyone got interested on them and have fanfics everywhere now" but the hate on them is also racism so who knows if people would be willing to get into two black men too

It is truly a problem of misogyny all around the corners on the fanbase, Elain Archeron is close to the equivalent of Wylan from soc or Will from pjo (to put examples from the top of my head) both characters are dedicated to their craft, side characters that maybe don't have the "craziest" storyline or more "important" powers or abilities but they are loved a lot because of it, because their sweetness, easy going nature, kindness, and what they do/what they can do. Like is insane how far is elain in problematics and yet you see people call her boring for having a job and not getting involved in drama that doesn't concern her..

acotar really is formed mostly by women but a lot of those also hate women (and I do think the author is part of this problem)

Lowkey thinking about how if Elain was a male character (who stilled liked gardening, was quiet but has moments of witty humor, had seer powers that wouldn’t be forgotten about, and stabbed the King of Hybern) he would probably be universally loved or at least accepted by the fandom. He’d be the lovable ~soft boy~.

Don’t try and tell me that the Elain hate isn’t rooted in misogyny, at least a little bit. 🙃