#there will be more short stories soon

[shady-tavern]

Preview for "Breaking Chains" the June Patreon Short Story

(warning ahead for implied abuse, assault and murder, please take care of yourselves)

*.*.*

In a valley across a great big lake, cradled between mountains like a god's cupped hands, sat a number of villages and towns. They were nestled among green meadows and greener forests like chicks in a bird's nest.

It was a peaceful place with people who considered themselves to be sensible and smart. They knew better than to do stupid things, to dress the wrong way or to cause trouble. They worked hard and rolled their eyes at anyone who didn't act like them.

They claimed to enjoy individuality, but the moment a colorful bard or a theater troupe with curious characters or simply someone different rolled through town, they began to whisper.

It was a pleasant place, as long as everyone did as expected. As long as everyone behaved. As long as everyone was sensible and smart and did as they were told.

Raine had always been a bit of a strange child, born to parents who could pretend very well to be like everyone else, but behind closed doors things were different. Behind closed doors they told her adventurous stories. They told her strange and wonderful stories.

They raised her on the ideas of hope and possibility and that, ultimately, good would have to triumph over evil. It was simply how the world was made, they told her.

Outside of their home, however, those stories felt very far away. They felt odd and misplaced, like her parents had heard them somewhere very, very far from here. Somewhere where the world was still bright and colorful and people were accepted the way they were. A world where no one was wrong, where no one felt like they didn't belong.

Her parents taught her well how to play along like they did.

"It's like a dance," her father said as he let her stand on his socked feet to dance around the living room with her, making her giggle and he tossed her up carefully and caught her again. "It's not so bad once you learn the steps."

"It's like this everywhere," her mother said kindly, quietly, but with a sadness, like she wished it were different but knew it wasn't. "All we can do is try and hold onto whatever happiness we can find."

Raine always thought it strange, that her parents made themselves smaller and quieter and milder whenever they went outside. They spoke softer and she could see the genuine emotions they bit back and ground down so they offered only a small, palatable portions to their neighbors.

The people of their town were of the opinion that strangers were to be treated with friendliness, but they should not be invited to overstay their welcome. Strange things ought to be ignored and no one ever went against what the temple priest said.

If he forbade entrance to the northern forest due to strange markings on trees or seeing a woman in a floaty, white dress disappear, no one went there. If the forbade using the river because there were ill omens, everyone washed their clothes elsewhere.

There was one thing he considered forbidden at all times, not just for seasons or until he had smoked out whatever evil he saw and that was a glittery cave up the mountain. It wasn't because the path was treacherous and would kill all but the most skilled climbers.

No, it was because he considered the cave unnatural.

Raine secretly thought that it was beautiful, it glittered in the morning sun and she could catch glimpses of it between trees and especially in winter when the trees were bare.

She couldn't help but wonder if it truly was an evil place, if it was rotten and malicious and would bring curses down on any who went their and their families to boot.

Still, she was a good girl. She didn't go where she wasn't meant to, she did as she was bid, she dressed properly and was polite and friendly and smiled, just as people wanted.

Deep down, however, she felt herself wither away bit by bit as she grew older.

The world wasn't fair, was the thing. She knew that pretty quickly once she started to notice things around her. She noticed the priest drink and not pay, even though the tavern owner was struggling to make ends meet after a bad year. All while he preached about the importance of taking care of each other and not taking advantage of people.

She saw the mayor tug the young girl he paid to keep his house back in when she wanted to leave, despite having a wife and children. The young girl never looked happy going to work, but no one said anything, even if other people noticed it.

She saw the blacksmith kick at her dog whenever she grew annoyed with its presence. When her apprentice tried to say something, she threatened to send the kid home without pay for the rest of the month.

Raine very quickly figured out the actual rules of this world. Those with power, with money and influence or just sheer physical prowess, those were the ones who decided what everyone else had to do.

It was easy to see the downtrodden, to realize just how much she herself suffered under made-up rules she had to obey, once she knew what to look for. How even those with little to no power still tried to get it from somewhere. Even if all they could do to get a scrap of it was to toss rocks at chickens to make them panic and run away. 

Raine made sure to toss rocks right back at them and before she knew it, she kept doing it. She handed bits of food to kids with bruises on their arms, who were a little too thin. Even if they weren't thin, she still gave them something. She lured the blacksmith's dog away and kept it and was surprised when no one said anything. Then again, no one ever said anything.

So she took a good, long look at the rules. She turned them around in her head and then she started to push and prod. Careful conversations with neighbors who had the same smiles at her parents, who ground themselves down to nothing and who did their best to be sensible.

Raine found out just how many people actually thought like her, how many wished for better days, for kinder hands, for softer words. For more love everywhere.

She also found out that she was getting really, really angry.

She mulled over her seething fury that was close to being stoked into actual rage and she decided that this better world everyone dreamed of, that she dreamed of, could not come to fruition if she wasn't willing to toe the line.

To break some rules.

The first thing she did was walk up the mountain and visit the crystal cave. It was even more beautiful up close and absolutely breathtaking inside. The walls shimmered and glittered, the ground beneath her was veined as though some strange, glimmering green metal was running through it like the bloodflow of the mountain.

As she followed the tunnel beyond the cave, she noticed that same metal run through the walls, winding around clusters of crystal and overlapping before splitting again.

It wasn't until she reached the end of the tunnel and it opened up into a massive space, sunlight falling in from large holes above, that she realized it hadn't been metal veins at all. It had been roots.

What stood before her was a massive tree, the leaves seemed to be made of the finest gold, the bark made of cracked and peeling brown and green gems and there was silvery sap running down one side, a blade stuck in the tree, the wound still bleeding.

On the ground before it were six skeletons with rusting and rotting armor and weaponry.

It wasn't hard to figure out what had happened here, that this group of people clearly had tried to take down the tree, most likely because it was made of everything precious that greedy people wanted. Or desperate people. Clearly, the tree hadn't taken kindly to that.

As she carefully approached, the fine golden leaves of the tree shivered in an invisible breeze and she saw fruit hanging on the branches, looking like crystalline chestnuts. She was sure that just touching the spikes of the outer shell would pierce her fingers straight through.

Raine remembered all the stories her parents had told her like secrets, like they were giving her little drops of joy and sunshine to hoard and protect lest the world took it from her forever.

She knew magic when she saw it.

"Do you want me to remove the blade?" she asked and after a moment, the tree fell quiet.

She approached very carefully and nothing happened, not when she clambered up the roots, not when she reached for the blade, her fingers closing around the hilt and when she gave it a big pull, it slid free almost effortlessly.

Raine used the momentum to toss the blade, watching it clatter across the ground and immediately it turned to rust and crumbled like all the other weaponry. When she glanced back at the tree, the wound had stopped bleeding and was slowly closing up.

Smiling, she hopped down the roots and paused in surprise when a branch shivered and lowered itself, offering one of the half opened chestnuts to her with a little shake of golden leaves.

Raine remembered all the stories about deals and binding agreements, of faerie magic and curses and wicked little creatures and monsters that wanted to trick people.

Then she thought of her life filled with oppressive, suffocating rules. Rules that she had to listen to because more powerful people had made them up and reinforced them to stay in power and she held out her hands.

She was here to break rules and not taking anything from strangers was one of the rules. The tree wasn't exactly a stranger, but it had the capability to ruin her just as much.

But she wanted to be daring. She wanted to believe that the world could be good, could be better, that all the stories about evil things and ill omens and cursed babes and wicked witches weren't all true. 

Or rather, that those people were only called bad and terrible because they could threaten those in power.

She wanted to be a threat, she realized. She wanted to be wicked and cursed if that was what it took to make things better. She wanted to grind rules to dust the same way she had learned to crush herself down until she was small and sensible and sweet and good.

The tree shivered, the leaves suddenly becoming shiny, like they had gotten polished all at once in one go, the bark gained a healthy shine and a chime like a song came from the crystals lining the walls.

The thorny shell opened and a chestnut fell out, gleaming a reddish gold and it was warm in her hands. It pulsed, like a heartbeat.

When she looked up, the tree seemed to be laughing, its leaves rustling and the crystals were humming and chiming, but it didn't feel like they were laughing at her. Raine closed her fingers around the chestnut, feeling it pulse gently, warm like a summer breeze and she found herself smiling.

It seemed that breaking the rules was one of the best ideas she had ever had.

The tree ushered her out and she left with a spring in her step and a warm heartbeat tucked into her pocket. She returned home, finding everything unchanged, but she realized that she was no longer the same.

As though her resolve had taken root within her like that strange tree in that cave and it had grown to fill her lungs, branching out and flowering and for the first time in her life, she felt like she could breathe. 

Like she could walk tall without worrying that she was overstepping. That she was too much, too loud, too rude.

Raine found in the following days that she laughed louder, talked with less and less restraint and she realized how many people started doing the same once she dared to do the first step. 

When she asked the priest about the ill omens he had seen on some fields that could not be harvested this year, even though families were struggling, he stuttered in his answer.

No one had questioned him before, at least not out loud and more and more people asked, sensing that he actually wasn't all that sure about these omens, until he said he'd take a second look.

During the next sermon, he said nothing about cursed fields and a bad harvest and even worse luck that would find them all if they ate what grew there.

When she saw the blacksmith shout at her apprentice again, she spoke up without even thinking about it. The woman looked taken aback, startled at being approached and while she cussed Raine out, she stomped away to continue her work. The apprentice sent Raine a grateful smile and the little chestnut in her pocket kept beating like a little heart.

The mayor, when she saw him grab the young girl when she tried to slip out of his house, startled just as much when Raine raised her voice. The girl used the moment to weasel away, keeping her head down and her shoulders hunched.

The mayor of course put a smile on his face and waved her off, laughing and telling her that he had to remind the girl to do a better job with scrubbing the chimneys. He joked about needing to keep an eye on people or they wouldn't work hard enough.

He squirreled away the moment he could and that evening, Raine was approached by the girl, who thanked her softly. They talked and the chestnut kept beating like a heart and the next day, the girl sent her brother in her stead, bigger and a year older and more than eager to take her place and protect her.

The girl took his job instead and where everyone at the farm told her that she was too little, too weak, too soft, she proved them all wrong. She was doing such a good job in fact, that the farm refused to let her go when the mayor showed up and by then, no other young girls wanted to work for him either.

Raine had spoken a lot with people, always carrying her chestnut in her pocket and she saw the shift among her neighbors. She saw the mayor suddenly threading more carefully as people started to get angry, she saw the blacksmith temper herself at long last when she began to lose business and the priest spoke less and less about ill omens and forbidden areas and he could no longer leave the tavern without paying.

They had grown afraid, she realized. They had grown afraid because their power had grown brittle in their hands, because people had realized that they deserved better. 

They now felt the prey-fear that everyone else had to live with whenever they had to be around the big, strong predators that had money and muscle and the authority of faith behind them.

But it wasn't enough, Raine realized as the anger within her persisted, as she found that the rules were still there, just softer now. Gentler and bit by bit, they got reinforced again with different words. Words that still played on the same old fears people had. The same old thoughts that still lingered in their heads.

And the same old, vile power slowly, bit by bit, regained its footing. Smarter now, more careful and well hidden, but it grew once again.

*.*.*

Interested in more? Don't hesitate to head to my patreon! You can find plenty of short stories there and more on my masterpost, if you'd like to check out more!

[cinefairy]

just because you are a god…doesn’t mean you are not human.

something i have seen quite often on this site whether that is in asks or just in general is that we learn that we are gods of our reality and after that fact we treat ourselves differently. more harsher, more colder.

just because we are gods, doesnt mean we are immune to feeling bad. you can still be god and feel hurt, upset & frustrated— those emotions dont make you appear ‘less than’ a god. it just shows that you are still human.

please treat yourselves as you would a friend— please treat yourself kinder, more lovingly, please live for the present and find the beauty in your daily life. you don’t need to hold out on yourself because you’re currently manifesting something.

just because you have made a mistake or reacted to the 3D or whatever it is you have done, it doesn’t make you a bad manifestor it doesn’t make you less than a god and i really hope you understand that.

this mindset that you have to demonise yourself or treat yourself colder because you’ve made a mistake is something you should try to abandon. its not worth your mental health.

you’re doing your best and thats all that really matters. so it take it one step at a time— there is no rush, there is no deadline. there is nothing to compete for. so let your feelings pass, they are only temporary. it’ll all be okay.

[ask-the-colony-tree-siblings]

Part two ended up being REALLY long, so I cut it in half. Hopefully it won’t take me too long to do the second part lol.

here’s the link to the first part if u wanna refresh your memory or didn’t see it lol :3

Hunter: I… I guess I haven’t really… told you stuff either. I’ve been mad at you for stuff you don’t even know about.

Gourmand: You guys are making really good progress already! Let’s try to get to the bottom of why you two don’t get along. Hunter, what did Artificer do to make you dislike her?

Hunter: …She was always a jerk when we were kids, and she ran off without even saying goodbye. I almost rotted to permadeath because of her.

Arti: I didn’t-!

Gourmand: Artificer. Please explain yourside without getting mad.

Arti: …Fine. I was a jerk, that’s true. So why was me leaving such an issue? You were probably better off.

Hunter: Why would I have been better off? Do you have any idea how hard it was to do our job by myself? You made up the majority of our firepower, I was nowhere near as efficient without you. I still had to do the exact same job, and I was expected to be able to do it just as well as we did when we worked together. 

Gourmand: Guys, try to keep the peace-

Arti: NSH would have known you wouldn’t be as good a messenger on your own. I’m sure he was happy that you were still there at least. 

[overlyobsessed223]

wrote a quick halbarry drabble to try and ease myself back into writing, thought i'd throw it up onto here. with this i can cross the "only one bed" trope off my ever shrinking list of cliches i've never done before

---

“What are you doing?”

Barry blinks in confusion, pausing in his efforts to make up the couch and turning his head in the direction of Hal’s voice. The hotel room is dark, all the lamps turned off and the drapes drawn shut, meaning he can only barely see the vague outline of Hal’s form on the bed. The one, singular bed they were given instead of the two beds Bruce had promised he’d reserved for them. Upon entering the room and realizing they’d only been given the one bed, Hal had been immediately convinced that Bruce had lied just to be an asshole, while Barry had been more inclined to believe the apologetic hotel manager when she’d told them she was so, so sorry, but there was an error in the booking system and, unfortunately, there were no more double rooms available for the night. 

Having already been worn down from the day’s Justice League mission, Barry hadn’t felt much other than faint resignation regarding the bed situation. He let Hal grab a shower first, and when Hal sauntered over to the large, king-sized bed and flopped onto it face-first with a pained groan, Barry figured it was only fair to let him have the bed. After all, Hal’s bruises and sore muscles surely won’t fare well sleeping on the stiff and lumpy couch cushions, and it might make for a rough night of rest for Barry but at least his fully healed body will be able to handle it better. 

“I’m… getting ready for bed?” Barry responds, glancing back down at the half-prepared couch, trying to figure out what he’d missed and coming up empty. 

“Yeah, but why are you over on the couch?” Hal sounds just as confused as Barry feels. “Why don’t you just sleep in the bed?”

“Uh, because you’re already in it,” Barry points out. Shouldn’t that be obvious?

“So?” Through the darkness, Barry sees Hal prop himself onto his elbows and hears him pat the empty side of the bed. “This is literally the biggest bed I’ve ever seen. There’s more than enough room for both of us.”

It finally dawns on Barry, then, that Hal means they should both sleep in the bed. Together. Barry swallows, his mouth suddenly having gone dry. 

“Oh, um, I don’t think,” Barry frowns, nervously rubbing at the back of his neck. He’s been Hal’s friend for many years at this point, but they’ve never shared the same bed before. Barry’s always been under the impression that that would be weird and in violation of some kind of friendship boundary. Not that he’s spent much time thinking about sharing a bed with Hal in the first place. Honest. “I’m fine with just taking the couch, Hal. Really, I am.”

Even in the near pitch blackness, Barry can still feel Hal’s stare boring into him.

“Barry, you’re not sleeping over on that shitty ass couch over a perfectly fine bed, that’s just stupid,” Hal says. Barry can practically hear the eye roll in his voice. Sighing exasperatingly, Hal cuts off the protest that’s currently loaded up on Barry’s tongue, “would you just come get into bed so we can both get the fuck to sleep? Seriously, Bar, this doesn’t have to be anything more than that.”

“Okay,” Barry acquiesces against his better judgment, shuffling over to the bed. He awkwardly slides under the covers, and admittedly, the mattress feels worlds better on his spine and neck than the couch. Pulling the covers up to his chin, he lies there stiff as a board, staring up at the ceiling and listening to the sounds of the city outside and Hal’s breathing. 

“You can relax, man,” Hal huffs with laughter after a minute. “Don’t worry, I swear I’ll keep my hands to myself. I won’t cuddle up to you in the middle of the night or anything. I mean, not unless you want me to.”

Barry lets out a soft snort, feeling himself start to unwind and relax. It’s just Hal, he reminds himself, his best and most trusted friend Hal. There’s no reason for him to feel weird, or self-conscious about this. Really, the situation is only as awkward as they decide to make it, and clearly, Hal has already decided he’s not bothered. Maybe Barry shouldn’t be, either. 

“I wouldn’t mind,” Barry blurts out without thinking. He instantly regrets saying it, his eyes growing wide and his face heating up instantly. “I—I mean, uh—”

“Yeah?” Hal questions suggestively, and Barry can imagine him quirking his brow, wearing the beginnings of a cheeky grin. 

Barry lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. 

“Yeah,” Barry says, busying himself with playing with the edges of the blanket. 

“Alright,” Hal hums thoughtfully. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

And when Barry wakes in the morning to Hal’s arm slung over him, face pressed into his shoulder, it feels just… normal. Completely and utterly normal. 

Oh, Barry thinks to himself. 

Oh. 

[cyanocophrenic]

Sweets (1/?)

The snugness was barely tolerable. She had overestimated herself. She looked surreptitiously over her shoulder and ducked around a corner. The only thing following her were her bad decisions, but she felt chased all the same.

Okay. Calm down. Breathe (but not too deep). Evaluate the situation. What are your options? Can you loosen anything?

She looked down at herself. Past her swollen breasts, past a fluffy roll of upper belly, she examined her waistline. Nope. The button was the only thing keeping the zipper together, and vice versa. For the millionth time, she lamented her morning. What a bright idea, interviewing for a job with a snack company. She was very well aware of how sweets affected her.

Could she find somewhere discrete to wait out her... little metabolic mishap? She looked around for a discrete nook to accommodate her fresh bulk.

The little atrium she had found had a series of plush benches around the walls. She sighed and headed for the one in the corner. She sucked in as best she could and sat down. Some horny little corner of her mind made note of how it felt as her tight belly shifted against her puffy thighs.

Sitting like this, only barely upright lest bending too far compromise her jeans, she couldn't ignore how her waistband was trying to cut her in half. She thought back to how she had done this to herself. The lovely HR manager had very explicitly pointed out the basket of the company's sugary offerings there in the middle of interview table. The woman had been insistent that she try at least one of each, gushing like any good salesperson about their rich flavors and subtle textures, occasionally even peeling one out of its wrapper and handing it to her.

How could she have done anything but eat what was offered to her? And by a beautiful woman, no less. She knew how her body reacted to food like this, but she had been desperate to make a good impression, to look good and eager and employable. A good girl. She ignored that last thought, and the accompanying shiver through her frazzled tummy.

She closed her eyes and tried to steady herself. Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth (but not too deeply). All she had to do was calm down, and give her body a chance to do the same. Then she could find a back door to sneak out of, go home and hope that somehow that she hadn't blown the interview.

She opened her eyes again and caught sight of herself in a mirror across the room. Holy crap, she was huge. She had been her normal, narrow self, and her outfit had fit very very normally, when she had arrived. But now? Now it looked positively painted onto her. Her breasts were trying to spill out of her tastefully exposed bra and over the lapel of her blouse. She was more balloon than woman at this point. She ignored another tingle.

As she watched herself in the mirror, she noticed something change. Slowly but surely, the last wrinkle in her blouse smoothed out. Uh oh. That meant... she was still filling out. Panic. She tingled again.

No. No. Calm. Breathe (but not too deep). She closed her eyes again, and could feel her plump body quietly grow. Crap.

Panic. Calm. Breathe (but not too deep). Calm.

Maybe if she didn't look, it would go away. That had never worked before, sure, but there's a first time for everything, right?

As she rationalized to herself, she noticed the sound of heels clacking towards her hiding spot. Panic!

Maybe their owner would pass and not notice her?

No such luck.

The woman who had interviewed her rounded the corner.

"There you are!"

She struggled to stand. So tight.

"You left your purse upstairs. I get it, though. Interviews can be pretty stressful, huh?"

Like nothing had changed. Did this woman not notice that she was currently three times the size she was when she had shown up? Could this woman not hear every seam in her clothes creaking in harmony? Could the woman not see how wide and deep and round she was becoming?

"It's such a beautiful handbag, I almost wanted to keep it for myself!" The woman laughed. "Oh well."

She took the bag from the woman. "O-oh! Thank you!" Leapt out of her.

"Listen," said the woman, "technically I have to review a few other candidates, but I think you're a shoo-in for the position." The woman moved closer. "No one else has shown so much... enthusiasm." Closer still. She basked in the smell of the woman's musky perfume.

"Oh... that's great!" she managed to squeak out.

"In fact," the woman continued, "if you'd like to come back upstairs, we can have you fill out the onboarding paperwork now, so you don't have to come back just to fill out some forms if... when we give you the job." So close now.

"Um! Okay!" What.

The woman placed a gentle hand on the side of her massive, tight, growing belly. "Listen, between you and me, that passion you showed today will take you far with us. Do you feel like the offer is fair? We can negotiate further if you need." The woman's eyes were so sincere.

What was going on here? She could barely think.

The woman placed her other hand on top of her belly, well hidden by her burgeoning breasts. "I do hope you'll say yes."

"Um..."

There was a pop. Her button pinged away across the room from her overburdened jeans. It made a little thwack sound as it hit the far wall. Her zipper flew down, zizzing audibly. Her belly erupted through the breach. Her blouse retreated upwards. The tingling became a roar. All the while, the woman, as though no tectonic shifts were happening right there and then, continued to implore with borderline puppydog eyes.

The world held its breath with her. How had this woman not reacted to any of that?! What? Was the woman still waiting for an answer?

"...okay?" She tried. She wasn't sure if her brain was still working. "Sure?" Best to stick to small sentences.

"Yay!" cheered the woman, "I really think you'll love it here!" The woman launched in for a quick hug around her exposed belly. The woman's arms didn't go even halfway around her. And still the woman didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong.

"Well! If you'll follow me back to the elevators, we can at least get the formalities out of the way."

The woman took her by the hand and pulled, still gentle. She followed, mutely. Even the horniest, shamiest corners of her mind were silent, waiting with bated breath.

As they reached the elevators, the woman pushed the up button and stood to the side. "Please," said the woman, "after you!"

On autopilot now, she stepped into the elevator and... wedged into the door. Stuck. What. Panic? Calm? The elevator dinged again as if to say "I'm waiting!"

The cold of the elevator doors brought her back to reality. She put a hand on either side of herself and tried to pull herself in. As though this were somehow normal, the woman chirped "Oh, here, let me help!"

She felt a gentle pair of hands press into her oceanic bottom. Her horny brain thrilled again. She clamped down on those thoughts. No time to be a pervert.

Between the two of them, they muscled her into the elevator. She turned to face the doors in time to watch the woman press into her in order to let the doors close. Normally equipped for eight full-sized human adults, due to her immensity, it very barely fit two.

"We need floor thirty," said the woman into her barely contained cleavage. She tried to reach for the panel of buttons, but by now there was simply too much of her in the way.

"I've got it," said the woman, reaching behind her without looking.

They rode the thirty floors quietly. She could feel herself still widening, pressing towards the walls of the elevator car. Her embarrassment had burnt out, leaving only a kind of stunned peace in her mind. She tried to will her body away from the woman, but where else could it really go?

By the time they reached their destination, the woman was firmly pressed against the doors, still showing no indication of the extra-ordinariness of the situation.

As the doors opened, the woman stepped back, grabbed her hands, and pulled as she tried to wiggle through the door. Eventually she floomped through, and they set off toward the HR suite.

Full-on waddling now, she felt an inner tension release. She had stopped growing. Relief. If nothing else, at least things had stopped getting worse. Sure, she was almost round enough to roll. Tingle. Sure, her clothing had been reduced to barely covering her... rude areas. Tingle. Sure, a beautiful woman was acting as though this was all perfectly normal. Tingle tingle tingle. But hey, at least it finally wasn't getting worse.

The woman pushed open the double doors to the HR suite and welcomed her in with another glittering smile. They seemed to be the only ones there. The woman led her, patiently, to the front desk area. The woman ducked behind the desk, looking for something.

"Hmm, it looks like I'll need to go print off more some more copies of the forms. Shouldn't take more than a minute or two." Finally she'd have a moment to collect herself.

Then the woman produced a basket, laden with various goodies, from underneath the desk. "Here! Help yourself, sorry to make you wait." Uh.

"Oh, here, allow me," said the woman, picking out a chocolate confection, peeling it, and pressing it into her mouth. "I'll be right back!"

She chewed and swallowed the treat.

Uh oh.

[jonsnowunemploymentera]

Something rubbed against his leg beneath the table. Jon saw red eyes staring up at him. “Hungry again?” he asked. There was still half a honeyed chicken in the center of the table. Jon reached out to tear off a leg, then had a better idea. He knifed the bird whole and let the carcass slide to the floor between his legs. Ghost ripped into it in savage silence. His brothers and sisters had not been permitted to bring their wolves to the banquet, but there were more curs than Jon could count at this end of the hall, and no one had said a word about his pup. He told himself he was fortunate in that too. His eyes stung. Jon rubbed at them savagely, cursing the smoke. He swallowed another gulp of wine and watched his direwolf devour the chicken. Dogs moved between the tables, trailing after the serving girls. One of them, a black mongrel bitch with long yellow eyes, caught a scent of the chicken. She stopped and edged under the bench to get a share. Jon watched the confrontation. The bitch growled low in her throat and moved closer. Ghost looked up, silent, and fixed the dog with those hot red eyes. The bitch snapped an angry challenge. She was three times the size of the direwolf pup. Ghost did not move. He stood over his prize and opened his mouth, baring his fangs. The bitch tensed, barked again, then thought better of this fight. She turned and slunk away, with one last defiant snap to save her pride. Ghost went back to his meal. Jon grinned and reached under the table to ruffle the shaggy white fur. The direwolf looked up at him, nipped gently at his hand, then went back to eating.

Jon I, AGOT

It's interesting that GRRM would dedicate several paragraphs to a seemingly unimportant exchange between a boy, his wolf, and an unfriendly third party. But there's just something about this passage that has continued to nag at me for years since I first read it because, considering how heavy handed GRRM was with the foreshadowing in AGOT, this feels important.

Jon is sitting at table full of squires - aka would be knights. We don't really know who they are or what families they belong to, but it's safe to assume that they come from a certain level of privilege; this is considering the fact that it cannot be financially easy to be a squire. And these boys already have a slew of tales detailing all their previous knightly exploits regarding "battle and bedding and the hunt" which suggests that they have some capital. So you have boys who will soon be men. And they will, presumably, become men of some power.

These lads eat their fill of the chicken until only half remains, which Jon then gives to Ghost. The direwolf's name is not so important here but what he represents is. Throughout the series, we're told that Ghost is reminiscent of the weirwood trees (because of his red eyes and white fur). He's stated to be of and from the Old Gods and since he's a personification of the weirwoods, he might as well be one of them. It's almost as if Jon is presenting whatever is left on the table to the Old Gods (Ghost). He lets them devour his offerings while he silently watches. And the motif of watching is so interesting here because it's kind of like Jon takes on a stewardship role - to watch over land/people/etc. He oversees Ghost eating the chicken, so he's overseeing whatever has been given to the Old Gods. This is not new imagery to his arc. As a brother of the Night's Watch and eventually its leader, we have several instances where he leads people to adopting the Old Gods in some fashion. In ADWD, several recruits swear their vows to the Old Gods while he watches on as their Lord Commander. The Old Gods are also primarily of the North and we're told that Jon has more of the north in him than his brothers; interesting that this also includes Bran. So perhaps whatever is being offered to the Old Gods relates to the North.

We must also note that Jon initially thinks to give only a small portion, a leg, before pivoting and providing the entire thing. It feels to me a bit like the process of carving up a kingdom or something similar. The lords (represented by the squires) take what they want and leave aside what they don't; or perhaps they have eaten to their fill and can take no more. Then when his time comes, Jon first considers a small piece of land/group of people before eventually absorbing all of whatever is left behind. The concept of carving up a kingdom rings harder considering that we have several callbacks to the ideals of kingship in this chapter. Robert, Jaime, Tyrion, and even Mance though we don't know it yet, all play into this. And then there's the aspect of Jon letting the chicken slip between his legs which evokes birth/fatherhood, a very curious choice when GRRM could've just had Jon place the chicken on the floor. So land/people are carved up and Jon then uses whatever is left to birth his own type of kingdom. And this kingdom is one for the Old Gods.

This also touches on something that has been quite prevalent throughout Jon's arc. It's the concept of accepting the "others" or "those left over" who live apart from the accepted social norms. Arya (a tomboy), Sam (a gender non-confirming boy), the Night's Watch (criminals, extra sons, and men who have no future left or place to go), and even the wildlings are all examples of this. And Jon takes on a leadership/paternal role to every single one of them. He looks after them as a leader would/should. Sometimes, in the case of Arya and the wildlings, he's equated to a king. He's a steward/shepherd/king. There's messianic undertones to this:

Come unto me, all you who are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light." (Matthew 11:28-30).

If you're familiar with Judeo-Christian tradition, you'll know that Jesus is often personified as one who spent the majority his time among the outcasts. The idea is that he came to save them too and that anew kingdom (or new earth depending on your translation) would spring up after the end of the world where he would forever rule as king; which presents the idea of a final king after the earthly ones are done away with. Now GRRM isn't so heavy handed with Christian allusions as other authors out there, but he does have a Catholic background and Jon is so overtly a Jesus figure. And in Revelation, Jesus is king and god at the very end....

One last thing: the mention of the mongrel who challenges Jon has always been rather interesting but confusing to me. A mongrel doesn't really relate to one specific type of dog. But it's interesting that Jon notes several roaming about where he is. They follow the serving girls who carry the food to be offered. Mongrels are used to describe antagonist/villainous groups in ASOIAF. Sometimes, they're used to describe slavers in Essos. But what's interesting is that most of the time, they're used to describe Euron's Ironborn especially in Victorian's POV. So I don't think the mongrel who challenges Ghost is a supernatural threat of death (i.e., the Others) but rather a human one. They represent those who are called to the scene once the lords have finished playing their games. It almost feels like a feast for (carrion) crows....

But it doesn't really matter because this mongrel isn't much of a challenge for Ghost. Though the mongrel is much larger, the direwolf is able to fend her off very effortlessly. Given that "mongrel" is used to describe Ironborn raiders, could this exchange between Ghost and the mongrel point to reavers or sea raiders who rise and fail challenge Jon kingdom? There is a historical King Jon Stark who did this....

When sea raiders landed in the east, Jon drove them out and built a castle, the Wolf's Den, at the mouth of the White Knife, so as to be able to defend the mouth of the river.[1][2] His son, Rickard, followed him on the throne and annexed the Neck to the north.

ref.

So this might shed some light not only on Jon's already published arc, but also on what we can expect in the future. We have some foreshadowing through Jon's ADWD dream that he will not only rise with the dawn (thereby live through the Long Night), but will be in a position to lead people (wildings in that chapter) to a new peace after a hard fought war. Also remember that the wildlings, rather enthusiastically, swear oaths to him as if swearing oaths to their king. In this instance, the supernatural (a dream of the war for the dawn) is followed by the natural/human. So perhaps this particular passage (and Jon's dream) can be used to predict that Jon comes out on top, and quite effortlessly too, as a leader. And he becomes a leader who rules by association with the Old Gods; or rules a kingdom for them.

To end, I think it's of note that this passage immediately precedes Jon's conversation with Benjen where he voices his desire to go out on his own - the hero's call to action. This is the adventure that's going to kickstart his growth as a man, warrior and most importantly, a leader. So it looks like before we even began, GRRM telegraphed how it would all end in just three short paragraphs.

[karleksmumskladdkaka]

I promised that I'd show you guys what my package of DL goods actually contained.

So...

Behold my treasures╰(*´︶`*)╯♡

(Please be forewarned that the quality of the photos are shit. They were taken by an idiot with no real photography experience whatsoever. Added to that I'm not fully recovered yet and honestly didn't have the energy to do multiple takes I'm also a lazy bitch at the best of times so there's that. But to compensate I have added a list below each picture to make it fully clear what exactly is depicted in them.)

Booklets ⋆⋅☆⋆⋅

From upper left to bottom right:

More, Blood Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

Vandead Carnival Special Booklet

Vandead Carnival Animate Limited Set Booklet

Vandead Carnival Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

More, Blood Limited V Edition Animate Limited Set Booklet

More, Blood Limited V Edition Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

Dark Fate Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

Lunatic Parade Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

Grand Edition Stellaworth Special Tokuten Booklet

Lost Eden Special Booklet

Grand Edition Special Booklet

Chaos Lineage Special Stellaworth Tokuten Booklet

Daylight Special Stellaworth Complete Set Purchase Tokuten Booklet

All of these booklets contain short stories, either individual ones for each diaboy or just a singular one that involves Yui and all the diaboys from the associated game (though the stories do not necessarily have anything to do with the plot of said game. Like at all. One story is literally a Mafia AU. I'm not making this up I swear.)

There are a few booklets that I'm missing, namely the HDB ones and most of the Drama CD ones. I'm on active lookout for the latter while the former... ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I honestly don't care about. No Ruki = none of my money. I'm a Ruki fan first and foremost, if that's not abundantly clear lol.

Drama CDs ⋆⋅✮⋅⋆

From upper left to bottom right:

Vandead Carnival Stella Set Tokuten: Special Voice CD

More, Blood Limited V Edition Stella Set Tokuten: Special Voice CD

Dark Fate Stella Set Tokuten: Special Voice CD

More, Blood B-2 Price Drama CD (Mukami Ver.)

Lost Eden Vol.4: Mukami Saga

Lost Eden Stella Set Bonus: Special Voice CD

Chaos Lineage Vol.3: Orange

Sadistic Night 2017 Event Pamphlet CD

Versus IV Vol.2 Shuu vs Ruki Stellaworth Tokuten Drama CD: "The Vampires got a Part-time Job: Ruki"

Eternal Blood 5th Eternal Blood Vol.1 & Vol.2 Animate Tokuten Drama CD: "A Certain Day at the Mukami Household" (Ruki & Yuma)

Chaos Lineage Ebten/WonderGoo Tokuten Drama CD: “The Vampire’s Every Day: Board Game Edition ~ Ruki VS Azusa VS Kino ~”

Grand Edition Animate Situation CD

More, More Blood Vol.12 Mukami Ruki Animate Tokuten Drama CD: "Monopolizing Her"

More, More Blood Vol.12 Mukami Ruki Animate Tokuten Drama CD: "Living a Normal School Life For Once!"

Daylight Vol.7 Mukami Ruki Stellaworth Tokuten Drama CD: "Sadistic ★ Date"

Do you notice the common thread running across all these CDs?

I remember mentioning a while back that there were only two Ruki CDs I had yet to listen to. Well, turns out I'm a fucking fool and forgot about the existence of most of the CDs on this list. I have no idea whether the majority of these are any good but my hopes are high! In any case I am very excited to give them all a listen! Or more like multiple. I'm addicted to Ruki's sexy voice what can I say.

Miscellaneous ⋆⋅☽⋅⋆

From upper left to bottom right:

More, Blood Ebten After Story Card: Shuu

More, Blood Ebten After Story Card: Ruki

More, More Blood Vol.12 Mukami Ruki Deluxe Edition Message Card

More, More Blood Vol.12 Mukami Ruki Mini Story Card (which ties into his Another Story CD).

In addition to these items I have three other message cards from Ruki and two of his short story papers (his More, Blood and Bloody Bouquet ones) in storage, which I'll also share in the future.

That's all I got at the moment. Again, sorry for the piss-poor quality of the photos. I'll strive to do better with the next scans I upload.

- _(´ω`_)⌒)_

[silentgrim]

𝒟𝑒𝒶𝓇 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓇𝓎, 𝐼 𝓂𝑒𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝓃𝑒𝓌 𝓉𝑜𝒹𝒶𝓎. 𝒯𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒… 𝒸𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓂𝒾𝓃𝑔.

[mechazushi]

Hey guys? Quick Question.

Has there been any images of a Teenage Kafka? I feel like there is, but I can't remember if they were in the main series or in B-Side or something.

Not really important, so answer at your leisure.

[dreamlandiasims]

previous | next

Erwin: How did you know??

Cahill: I’ve picked up some tricks over the years. Changes in energy, vibrations. I had a hunch as soon as y’all walked in.

Erwin: That’s awesome… So now you have to help us, right?

Cahill: And why’s that? Again, not my mess.

Erwin: This could be our only chance for extended alien contact. Jill is trying to get back to her family. Maybe if we get her back to them, they’d answer a few questions.

Cahill: Is that true, Jill?

Jill: I didn’t lie, I swear! I am looking for my family. I… did something… even though Daddy said not to.

Cahill: … What’d you do?

Jill: No one lets me use my powers! It’s not fair. I just… I just wanted to show I could… But Daddy was right, and it got all messed up. I made… a hole.

Erwin: Sorry, a hole?

Cahill: You opened a goddamn portal?

Jill: Oh yeah, that’s what I meant.

Cahill: And where did it spit you out?

Jill: Inside the, uh, the lab.

Cahill: So you came here through a portal to another world and it’s linked to BioSim Tech. They must be having a field day over there.

Frankie: … I need some air.

[kaialone]

Just some interesting details mentioned about Paracelsus in the Slash Beat Encyclopedia and the 10th Memorial Book:

He was originally a stone axe created during the final period of the Crusades (remember, they lasted like a 100 years.)

It's described that it'd display its full power by sucking up blood, even before it was a sentient being. (So, I'm assuming he was some kind of magical weapon from the start? I think Slash Beat Encyclopedia even indicates it might've been a bio-mechanical weapon, but that bit is not mentioned in the 10th Memorial Book, and that one's more recent. EDIT: Looking it over again, I realize it could've meant "creature-shaped" rather than bio-mechanical.)

Its transformation into a Magical Foci (though for the reference, this specific term wasn't applied to Paracelsus until Xrd, I believe) and gaining a sense of self is said to have been a gradual result of him absorbing too much blood. (There's some additional details about how Magical Foci in general are born from Xrd's GGW and onward that don't come up here yet)

He began to communicate and even started picking his own wielders and the like, and sought for a purpose in life through his achievements in battle.

[shady-tavern]

Sneak Peek

A little sneak peek for "Paint the Town" a, most likely 2 (perhaps 3) part story. Warnings ahead for mentioned death and injury, as well as semi-graphic violence. Please take care of yourselves.

*.*.*

Colossus clearly had had a grand old time tossing an under-qualified hero around, as well as injuring helpless civilians. Nothing new here and Olivia didn't bother to hold back.

She had, once upon a time, done her best to avoid injuring villains beyond knocking them out, but when ground-pulverizing powers rose to her fingertips now, she focused on packing as much as she could into every hit.

Colossus and she had clashed once before and he had gotten away only because she hadn't quite figured out the full scope of the powers she had gotten saddled with when facing him and because he had swiftly collapsed a house on a group of terrified civilians.

Villains were nothing but a scourge of the earth.

This time, Olivia knew what she was working with and most importantly, who she was dealing with and the lengths he was willing to go to in order to win or escape.

It was clear he had expected the same slap-dash, somewhat sloppy fight from last time, back when Olivia had been scrambling to figure out how to use her powers most effectively.

It took two hits before he was on the ground, visibly reeling, struggling and failing to sit up again. It was clear he wasn't getting up anytime soon, that the second hit to his face had fucked with his head plenty.

Other heroes would stop here. They were, in fact, instructed and trained to. To stop when the enemy was down and apprehend them instead. To be better than villains.

But Olivia knew how much the prison facilities struggled to contain people with superpowers, how often they escaped, especially when other villains attacked the place.

There had once been a time when Olivia had thought it didn't matter, that second chances were all the rage. She was done with that, just like she was done with fighting people over and over again because they kept escaping, arriving to ongoing fights to find weeping and bleeding and at times dead civilians and even heroes.

Olivia raised her leg just as Colossus turned over to try and get up, bringing her foot down on his back with a flare of her powers. There was no noise from his throat, not when she heard the sound his spine and ribs made and he fell still, only his chest moving in little gasping breaths as his brain got overloaded with pain. 

He would never again get back up, not after that hit and that was all that mattered at the end of the day. No more hurt civilians, no more broken colleagues. One less evil, permanently removed.

A sudden tingle raced across her skin, making her feel like gravity changed its course and her gaze snapped up, just as the sky grew a deep, dark red, lightning flashing across it.

Floating above her, having managed to sneak up on her, was The End. A villain only three heroes were capable of fighting, herself included. Fuck.

Olivia didn't waste a second to let the changed, new power coursing under her skin out. She could never waste so much as a split second when faced with The End. The grip of gravity shifted within a heartbeat, like the snap of massive fingers, the noise of it cracking through the air. Just in time to slow the descend of The End's meteors and forcing them to a glowing stop right above the skyscrapers of the city.

It felt like her bones were made of metal and at the same time, as though she weighed nothing at all. She felt as though she was as liable to find herself crushed to the ground by the entire universe as she was to float away like a speck of dust on the wind.

"Little Rescue, ruiner of lives," The End shouted, fury making his voice sound like a guttural snarl as he pushed back against her powers, the sky growing darker still. 

Olivia was faintly aware of people screaming in panic behind her, ahead of her, as civilians ran for their lives. Others crawled for their lives, legs broken or bleeding from wounds inflicted by Colossus that needed immediate treatment. 

Treatment they wouldn't get, for ambulances were not allowed near active fight zones and the specialized removal teams were only sent out for severely injured heroes, not civilians. Too many paramedics had lost their lives or use of their limbs when they had gotten caught in battles.

Not that The End cared, of course. Villains never did.

Colossus at her feet was breathing in high-pitched, panting little wheezes, his body utterly unmoving.

The End had always kept his distance, but today he descended when he couldn't force his meteors further, slamming into the ground before her, his meteors crumbling to nothing and lightning started to flash like a thousand storms were getting unloading at once. 

Olivia hurriedly dodged his fist, the air around her heavy and vibrating all at once as Gravity and Space started to clash.

"What a joke this world is," The End growled. "For a monster like you to be seen as good."

"And what a joke," Olivia growled right back, dark anger and fury beating in her veins in tandem with her heart. If she could take down The End, the city would be safer for it. "That you were born."

The End's next punch was heavy with the power of impacting meteors and the empty coldness of space, lightning crackling between like a hungry beast. He laughed, brief and hard and hateful and he snarled, "Well, if you want to act like a hero, then die like one."

[deathlessdev]

Two vaguely-familiar weirdos! I realized I've never actually drawn these idiots properly, so I thought I'd try a super-simple, limited-palette rendition and I think it turned out pretty well.

There were some strong creative liberties --- notably, Yusha isn't so skeletal most of the time. But I thought it would create a nice contrast with Aeva, and he does spend most of his time getting torn to pieces, so here we are.

[likedrotten]

familiar with candle, with book, and with bell

[xochimillilili]

Man I fucking love writing I got so many ideas in my head its like a bouncy house up in there yipppeeeee

[revasserium]

the unofficial ultimate bungo stray dogs reading list

this is mainly for myself bc i rly do want to read most if not all of these and i'm sure it's already been done by someone somewhere. but, i thought why not post it lmao; most if not all of these can be found on anna's archive, z-library, or project gutenberg! (also, consider buying from your local bookstore!) for those that are a bit harder to find, i've included links, though some are from j-stor and would require login to access.

detective agency:

osamu dazai:

no longer human (novel)

the setting sun (novel)

nakajima atsushi:

the moon over the mountain: stories (short story collection)

light, wind and dreams (short story)

fukuzawa yukichi:

an encouragement of learning (17 volume collections of writings)

all the countries of the world, for children written in verse (textbook)

yosano akiko:

kimi shinitamou koto nakare (poem)

midaregami (poetry collection)

edogawa ranpo:

the boy detectives club (book series)

japanese tales of mystery and imagination (short story collection)

the early cases of akechi kogoro (novel)

kunikida doppo:

river mist and other stories (short story collection)

izumi kyouka:

demon lake (play)

spirits of another sort: the plays of izumi kyoka (play collection)

tanizaki junichirou:

the makioka sisters (novel)

the red roof and other stories (short story collection)

miyazawa kenji:

ame ni mo makezu; be not defeated by the rain (poem)

night on the galactic railroad (novel)

strong in the rain (poetry collection)

port mafia:

mori ougai:

vita sexualis (novel)

the dancing girl (novel)

nakahara chuuya:

poems of nakahara chuya (poetry collection)

akutagawa ryuunosuke:

rashoumon (short story)

the spider's thread (short story)

rashoumon and other stories (short story collection)

ozaki kyouyou:

the gold demon (novel)

higuchi ichiyou:

in the shade of spring leaves (biography and short stories)

hirotsu ryuurou:

falling camellia (novel)

tachihara michizou:

in mourning for the summer (poem)

midwinter momento (poem)

from the country of eight islands: an anthology of japanese poetry (poetry collection)

kajii motojirou:

lemon (short story)

yumeno kyuusaku:

dogra magra (novel)

oda sakunosuke:

flawless/immaculate (short story)

sakaguchi ango:

darakuron (essay)

the guild:

f. scott fitzgerald:

the great gatsby (novel)

the beautiful and the damned (novel)

edgar allen poe:

the raven (poem)

the black cat (short story)

the murders in the rue morgue (short story)

herman melville:

moby dick (novel)

h.p. lovecraft:

the call of cthulhu (short story)

the shadow out of time (novella)

john steinbeck:

the grapes of wrath (novel)

of mice and men (novel)

lucy maud montgomery:

anne of green gables (novel)

the blue castle (novel)

chronicles of avonlea (short story collection)

louisa may alcott:

little women (novel)

the brownie and the princess (short story collection)

margaret mitchell:

gone with the wind (novel)

mark twain:

the adventures of tom sawyer (novel)

adventures of huckleberry finn (novel)

nathaniel hawthorn:

the scarlet letter (novel)

rats in the house of the dead:

fyodor dostoevsky:

crime and punishment (novel)

the brothers karamozov (novel)

notes from the underground (short story collection)

alexander pushkin:

eugene onegin (novel)

a feast in time of plague (play)

ivan goncharov:

the precipice (novel)

oguri mushitarou:

the perfect crime (novel)

decay of the angel:

fukuchi ouchi:

the mirror lion, a spring diversion (kabuki play)

bram stoker:

dracula (novel)

dracula's guest and other weird stories (short story collection)

nikolai gogol:

the overcoat (short story)

dead souls (novel)

hunting dogs: (i must caveat here that the hunting dogs are named after much more comparatively obscure jpn writers/playwrights so i was unable to find a lot of the specific pieces actually mentioned; but i still wanted to include them on the list because well -- it wouldn't be a bsd list without them)

okura teruko:

gasp of the soul (short story; i wasn't able to find an english translation)

devil woman (short story)

jouno saigiku:

priceless tears (kabuki play; no translation but at least we have a summary)

suehiro tetchou:

setchuubai/a political novel: plum blossoms in snow (novel)

division for unusual powers:

taneda santouka:

the santoka: versions by scott watson (poetry collection)

tsujimura mizuki:

lonely castle in the mirror (novel)

yesterday's shadow tag (short story collection; i was unable to find a translation)

order of the clock tower:

agatha christie:

and then there were none (novel)

murder on the orient express (novel)

she is the best selling fiction writer of all time there's too much to list here

mimic:

andre gide:

strait is the gate (novel)

trascendents:

arthur rimbaud:

illuminations (poetry collection)

the drunken boat (poem)

a season in hell (prose poem)

johann von goethe:

faust

the sorrows of young werther

paul verlaine:

clair de lune (poem, yes it did inspire the debussy piece, yes)

poems under saturn (poetry collection)

victor hugo:

the hunchback of notre-dame (novel)

les miserables (novel)

william shakespeare:

romeo and juliet (play)

a midsummer nights' dream (play)

sonnets (poetry collection)

the seven traitors:

jules verne:

around the world in 80 days (novel)

journey to the center of the earth (novel)

twenty thousand leagues under the seas (novel)

other:

natsume souseki:

i am a cat (novel)

kokoro (novel)

botchan (novel)

h.g. wells:

the time machine (novella)

the invisible man (novel)

the war of the worlds (novel)

shibusawa tatsuhiko:

the travels of prince takaoka (novel; unable to find translation)

dr. mary wollstonecraft godwin shelley

frankenstein (novel)