#this book introduced me to Frankenstein

[spongebob-connoisseur]

@charmy-2000

Gris Grimly's Frankenstein. Its a graphic novel.

I really love the illustrations <3

The most stylish Victor Frankenstein

[dissociativewriter]

Unnatural Affinity- Part 3

Isekai!Reader x Love and Deepspace

wc: ~2.4k

cw: angst but not too bad this time, flirty/playful Zayne, after that he freaks out though and doesn’t speak much, reader questions her place and existence, talks of destiny, low self esteem honestly, idk if i like this part; not proofread

Synopsis: You’re trying to find your footing, but after a week in this new world, you’re still realizing just how different it is. Luckily (or maybe not so luckily?), you become distracted as Em invites her dear doctor friend over.

author’s note: I’m loving this series, it’s giving me so much inspiration! But I’m updating this way faster than I initially intended so I’m not really proofreading so I’m sorry if its not great :( ANYWAY I’m kind of figuring out where I want to go with it from here, but right now I’m just focusing on introducing each Love Interest. Writing playful Zayne is so fun, i wanna squish him :(

tag list: @animegamerfox @ixloom819 @magennta09 @an-ever-angry-bi @corvid007 @vigtore @ph1lo-s0ph1a @ameili @babyx91 @sadsaidthesadthing @bidisasterforevermore @liz9898 @iconoclastoc @elegantdeerlady @lifumi @auraficial @plzdonutpercieveme @dolledbunnytail (I hope I got everyone!)

Series Masterlist

“What are you reading?” Em’s voice broke through your focus.

You glanced up at her through your lashes from your place cuddled up on the couch. You were sat near the window to take advantage of the sunlight, but now you could barely see Em’s face through the glare. You shifted slightly, the blanket wrapped around you nearly falling.

“Frankenstein,” you answered shortly, looking back to your book. You didn’t mean to come off as rude, but Em was very talkative all of the time and you weren’t close enough to maintain that. You needed some time to recharge, and Em was interrupting it.

Her brows drew together and she leaned closer to you, staring at the book cover. “What’s that?”

You looked back up at her incredulously, keeping your place with your hand. “You’ve… never heard of Frankenstein?”

Em shook her head with a frown. “Is that weird?” She asked.

“Frankenstein? By Mary Shelley? You know, the really influential and famous horror and science fiction book?” When met with another shake of the head, you let out a laugh in disbelief. “I mean, I get not knowing the plot, but not knowing the whole book…?”

Another laugh from you, and Em was pulling her phone from her back pocket. “Hold on, let me search it up…” A few moments pass filled with only the tapping of Em’s nails against the screen. Her frown only deepened as she continued to scroll. “There’s nothing here about Frankenstein or any Mary Shelley.” She looked back up at you curiously. “Where exactly did you get that book?”

You stood up, your blanket falling to the floor, Frankenstein forgotten on the arm of the couch. You yanked Em’s phone from her hand, scrolling through it with wide eyes. “That can’t be true,” you muttered.

Em was right, though. There was no sign of Frankenstein in this world. All that showed up was ‘Did you mean:’ posts and similar names, but no direct matches.

How could that be?

What else was different in this world?

If there was no Frankenstein, then what else that you knew so familiarly was forgotten?

You knew there would be some differences in the world of Love and Deepspace, but you’d thought you could adapt. Now, though, it felt like you were floundering. There were more differences than similarities, and you had no idea how to deal with it.

You had no idea who you were supposed to be.

“Are you alright?” Em’s hand come on your shoulder. “You look really pale.”

You took a shaky breath. “Yeah, I’m alright. I just feel a little light-headed, but it’s nothing.”

“Have you eaten today?” She chastised, already knowing the answer.

“No,” you admitted sheepishly.

Em sighed, already moving into the kitchen. “Sometimes I wonder how you lived before we moved in together. What do you do when I’m gone on missions? Do you just starve until I get back?” She moved around the kitchen efficiently, pulling foods and plates out of cabinets that you didn’t even know existed.

You really needed to learn your way around this apartment.

“You know, contrary to popular belief, I can take care of myself,” you laughed.

“Oh, really?” Em raised an eyebrow. “Then why don’t you?”

You went quiet at that. How were you supposed to respond? She was right, of course. Em was perceptible when it mattered. You had just never had someone to take notice of it and do something before.

How are you supposed to act when you’re being taken care of?

When someone you’ve only known for a week is putting in more effort than friends you’d known for a year.

You took the plate she handed you, muttering a quiet thanks that Em waved off.

Em carefully watched you chew, not interrupting you until you were about halfway through your plate.

“Would you mind if one of my friends came over?” She asked suddenly, eyes trained on your face for a reaction.

You stopped chewing, staring up at her. After quickly swallowing, you sighed. “Is it Tara? Because as much as I love her I don’t think I can—”

“No, it’s not Tara,” Em chuckled. “I wouldn’t ask her over today, I know you’re tired and she can be a lot. This friend of mine, though…” She looked at you hopefully. “He’s really quiet. Kind of similar to you, actually. He can be a little intimidating when you first meet him, but he’s really sweet!” Em stared at you expectantly.

“I’m not completely opposed,” you began, catching sight of Em’s excited smile. “But I’m not sold on the idea either!” You said quickly. “What friend is this?”

Em’s smile didn’t dim. “It’s my friend Zayne.”

A methodical knock on the door had Em springing from her seat next to you and smoothing down her shirt. You put your bookmark in Frankenstein, setting it on the table next to you. You nervously shifted on the couch, not wanting to greet Zayne at the door.

After what happened with Xavier, who knows what could happen with Zayne?

You weren’t really sure what was happening now that you were here, and you weren’t exactly sure you wanted to find out. Were you a problem? Disrupting the plot, distracting the budding romances, keeping Em away from her destiny?

What even was her destiny?

What was your destiny?

If you really were a part of this plot, a part of this world, and someone so close to Em, why hadn’t you been mentioned?

Practiced footsteps brought your gaze up, immediately finding a familiar pair of green eyes. You stood, leaving your blanket discarded on the couch as you offered your outstretched hand.

Zayne took it, a ghost of a smile spreading on his lips as he shook it. “So formal,” he chuckled.

“It’s out first time meeting,” you shrugged. “Isn’t this what you do when you meet new people?”

“I suppose, but I’ve shaken enough hands at the hospital. I’d like to greet you as a friend would.” He gave you a light smile. “How exactly would you do that? I’m afraid I haven’t had much experience in friendship,” he admitted.

As a friend? The stoic Doctor Zayne joking around and wanting to be your friend?

What was going on?

“I don’t know,” you muttered. “Whenever I see my friends, I usually just hug them.” You watched as the very tips of Zayne’s ears turned a fiery pink.

He cleared his throat. “Well, I don’t suppose we’re close enough for that yet.”

“I’m so glad you you guys are getting along!” Em said, oblivious to the slight tension between you and the doctor. “I was worried since you both are kind of awkward.” She laughed brightly.

“Yes, well, I wanted to…” Zayne hesitated as he looked back to you. “I wanted to make a good impression on your friends. I would hate to be disliked by someone close to you.”

“I don’t think it’s possible for someone to dislike you,” you chuckled. Zayne stared at you with wide eyes, causing heat to rise to your own cheeks. “I only mean because you’re so polite and funny,” you explained hastily.

Zayne looked away, a grin growing on his face. “There aren’t many who would consider me funny. Even Em has said I’m too serious.”

“It’s because you are!” She said accusatorially before stepping over to your side as if that would make you easy to convince. “He’s been like this ever since we were kids! Other kids were out, running in the streets and playing tag, and he was inside huddled up with a book!”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it!” You said, walking over to Zayne. You leaned in close, whispering, “I was that kid, too. It’s not a bad thing to go against the status quo sometimes.”

He gave you a smile filled with relief. “I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone say that to me, or agree with my childhood decisions.”

You shrugged. “I don’t see why it’s an issue. Everyone wants you to express yourself, but then they get mad if you don’t do it the way they want.” You looked at him, searching his eyes. “At the end of the day, I think you just have to accept that you’re not going to please everyone. And it’s not your job to, either. Everyone has their own opinions and decisions to make, and I think you just need to do what makes you happy, instead of what makes other people happy.”

Zayne was silent for a moment. “Very wise words,” he murmured. “I suppose it is easy to neglect one’s own happiness in the pursuit of satisfying another’s.”

You nudged him with your shoulder, a playful smile growing on your face. “It’s alright to be a people pleaser, Doctor Zayne. Just don’t forget yourself.”

Em cleared her throat, earning her attention from you and Zayne. “Listen, this is all very sweet, but it’s also boring.” She made a face, scrunching her nose. “You guys can have your little therapy session later, but right now, I wanna do something. Can we play a game?” Em bounced lightly on her feet.

Zayne chuckled. “This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve called me a bore. What would you like to play?” Em put her hand on her chin, pretending to think on the question. “Not Kitty Cards, I hope.”

“No!” Em said quickly. When you snickered, a blush painted her cheeks. “I just mean, we’ve been playing so much lately. I’m sure you don’t want to play again.”

Zayne raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Are you certain it’s not because of your recent losing streak?”

“Alright, alright,” you said. “Let’s not be too mean. She is our friend, after all.”

He hummed, trying to hide his grin. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Why don’t we play that new game you just got?” you offered, looking to Em. “The one with the snowmen?”

Em made a squeak of excitement before scrambling over to her game console.

Zayne stared at you, his posture suddenly stiffening before it seemed like he reminded himself to relax. “Have we… met before?” He asked you.

You shook your head. “No, we haven’t.” You cocked your head. “Why?”

He shook his head softly. “It’s nothing.” When your gaze persisted, he sighed. “You just seem familiar somehow. Like I’ve known you somewhere.” The words caught in his throat, and his next sentence came out barely as a whisper. “Like I’ve loved you before.”

You gaped at him, unsure if you had even heard him correctly, before Em walked over and swept you both into the living room to all play her new game together. Em gripped your arm as she situated you right next to her, exclaiming something about how you two needed to stick together and beat Zayne.

You watched the hesitation on Zayne’s face as he saw the places left to sit. He considered simply sitting on the floor, but he ended up taking the seat next to you, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

Not many words were spoken after that. Zayne’s posture returned to that of the Doctor, prim and proper. Em carried most of the conversation, and the few answers Zayne gave were short and clipped.

You glanced at Zayne during one of the loading screens, only for him to avoid your gaze.

Did he figure out you didn’t belong here?

It was dark by the time Zayne left, offering you a curt nod as he said goodbye. You and Em straightened up the apartment in silence, feeling the fatigue from the week and aching for sleep.

Once the room was presentable, Em led you to sit on the couch, with her sitting opposite you on the small coffee table. She looked away from you, rubbing her thighs with her palms.

She did that because you did that.

There was nothing about the MC rubbing her thighs when she was nervous before, but you’d been doing it for years.

What other traits or habits of yours were now Em’s?

“Can you tell me something?” She asked, looking up at you with downturned lips. Already expecting this, you nodded. She took a deep breath. “Did something happen between you and Zayne? Because he was really relaxed when he first came over, but then he started acting like how he acts in public and I just wanted to know if you maybe said something?” Em winced as she finished.

“I don’t think I said anything weird,” you shrugged. Now was not the time to tell her what he’d said, you thought. Not that there would ever be a good time, but maybe you wouldn’t have to tell her. Maybe the story would progress as it was supposed to. They would all love her, she would take her pick, and leave the others heartbroken.

And you would simply fade into the background.

Isn’t that what you were supposed to do?

Just be a plot device here and there, not have a Love Interest think he’s loved you before.

How did he expect you to react, anyway?

“That’s weird.” A pout grew on her face. “I wonder what freaked him out.”

Probably the fact that he acknowledged connection with someone other than you, you thought.

He wasn’t supposed to. He wasn’t supposed to.

He wasn’t supposed to.

You repeated the mantra in your head, trying to make yourself believe it.

This girl in front of you is the one he’s defied gods for, so who are you to get in between that?

She was the one that the story was about, not you. You weren’t even supposed to be here.

Would you be able to get back home?

Did you want to?

Maybe you could live here. Stay here. Carve out a life here.

Maybe you could find your own happy ending.

You shook your head.

You are not the priority protagonist.

You are an aid, a secondary character, a plot device. Someone to fade away.

What would happen if you went against that?

All you needed to do was help Em find her happy ending, and pray it doesn’t lead to your own downfall.

comments and reblogs appreciated! <3

masterlist

[felassan]

Thread: Sylvia Feketekuty on the influences of Emmrich and the Mourn Watch

The rest of this post is under a cut due to length and possible spoilers.

Sylvia Feketekuty: "I think I've gotten to most people’s questions, and I promised I'd talk about influences on Emmrich and the Mourn Watch before wrapping this up. So here we go! It took me while to figure out Emmrich's character voice. I'm happy with where I landed, but he was a tough one. A few books helped me out. MR James' Collected Ghost Stories (1890-1930) My favourite ghost stories of all time. James excels at building dread, at writing people finding strange things in books, or around the corner, or in the old lane at night."

"He was also an antiquarian and a scholar at Cambridge. I wanted Emmrich and the Watchers to feel formal, but not like they were from another epoch. James’ language, polished by a rich academic career, was an excellent benchmark for 'older, but not ancient'. E.g.: if using contractions was appropriate for James' time, it was appropriate for Emmrich. It freed me up, mentally speaking, to deploy them whenever they improved cadence or flow. Thomas Ligotti's Songs of a Dead Dreamer Fellow Ligotti fans may already be thinking Emmrich doesn't really share the philosophy underpinning Ligotti's work, and they’re right. However!"

"Songs of a Dead Dreamer is filled with fantastical imagery that’s a bit lusher than that found in Ligotti's later works. It was really good at bringing to mind the kind of moody, expansive dreamscapes I think our necromancer mentally occupies. It’s from a different book (Noctuary), but Ligotti’s “The Spectral Estate” also merits a mention. If you plunked it down in front of Emmrich to read, he’d know exactly what it was on about. The Romantic poets (or any poetry on similar themes: overpowering swells of emotion, the grandeur and awe of nature, love and loss and grief.) Palgrave's Golden Treasury was usually in reach."

"If I was in a jam, or psyching myself up for a scene, sometimes I’d read a few poems to get into the proper head space. Or just for the pleasure of it. Poems are great! Please take a link to Shelley's "A Dream of the Unknown", one of my favourites. [link] I also read a few books by morticians and funerary directors. A friend lent me Smoke Gets in your Eyes and From Here to Eternity by Caitlin Doughty (probably the most famous mortician on the internet?) I also checked out Nine Years Under: Coming of Age in an Inner-city Funeral Home by Sheri Booker."

"These books were full of lessons about how people react to death, how different cultures treat it, how anger and grieving express differently but come from the same wellspring. Very humane looks at how we deal with loss and other people. Moving on to non-books: My First Cadaver, a podcast of stories from medical students and medical professionals."

"I listened to a few episodes My First Cadaver, and there were some incredible tales in there. Gross (I could never be a doctor) but incredible. And I was struck by was how much students working on donated cadavers got attached to them. I can’t remember if it was in MFC or not, but there was one story about a medical student introducing his date to the cadaver he was working on like she was a beloved aunt. It was very sweet! Peter Cushing in Horror of Dracula (1958) and The Curse of Frankenstein (1957) These films are filled with handsome costumes, ominous sets, and the oversized passions I associate with gothic melodrama. Cushing's perfect in them."

"His portrayals of Van Helsing and Baron Frankenstein are brisk, determined, obsessive, and brimming with energy; they’re scholars who are experts in their field, yet still men of action. They felt like natural touchstones for a professor suddenly called to grand adventure. I also ended up reading Cushing's memoirs. In a bit of strange synchronicity, there were similarities between his life and traits I'd already decided to give Emmrich. Cushing came from a working-class family, had an intense phobia (his was of the dark), was vegetarian, and so on. I'd had no idea."

"(Humans tend to pattern-match, but it was a little eerie.) A side note: I've seen people speculate Emmrich was based off of Vincent Price. There’s a bit of the good Mr. Price in there, but Cushing got to play more heroic roles than he did. He felt more right to me. A second side note: did you know Vincent Price was a gourmand who loved to entertain? He and his wife Mary put out a beautiful cooking book, A Treasury of Great Recipes, filled with warm and charming commentary. If you're interested in that kind thing, highly recommended!"

"One influence when I was pitching the Memorial Gardens to the rest of the team was Swan Point cemetery in Rhode Island. It's where Lovecraft was buried, and like many a Weird Tales nerd before me, I was curious and wanted to see it."

"I wasn't prepared for was how lush the plants and flowers were, and how beautifully landscaped everything there is. Swan Point is a historical burial place, and also a carefully tended garden and arboretum. It stunned me. I'd never been in a cemetery like it. Emmrich complains about Hezenkoss making him play complicated wargames when they were students, and that one in particular had three separate rulebooks."

"I've seen people guess whether I was referencing D&D or Warhammer 40K. D&D was formative, and I know a frankly embarrassing amount about WH40K at this point (No regrets. Necrons and Admech 4-ever.*) But the origin is even sillier. *Why yes, Mechanicus 2 IS my most anticipated upcoming game. I used to own the first edition of a board game called Mansions of Madness, and was supposed to learn the rules so I could lead my friends through it. But come the day, I’d procrastinated, and was running short on time."

"Fantasy Flight's previous game in the same vein was Arkham Horror, and AH is not a simple game. But I remember being hopeful, as I peeled the shrinkwrap off, that maybe MoM would be easier to learn than AH. Have streamlined rules, or fewer things to remember. Then the top popped off, and three separate rulebooks fell out and slithered to the floor. (The DAV game’s not meant to be MoM, but the absurdity of that moment stuck with me.) (It's not the game's fault, by any means, that I was unprepared, and the session went as well as it could have with me flipping through the books going "Okay wait...hold on...I think that was here...no, wait.") The Nevarran hazelnut torte recipe is actually a family recipe from my grandmother, on my father's side. I’m beyond delighted people have actually made it. (Our recipe uses metric measurements, but the DA style guide uses imperial, so I was worried about the conversion. Looks like it went okay.)"

"On my mother's side of the family: my grandmother cooked and cleaned for a living, and my grandfather was a butcher. He passed away before I was born, and my grandmother when I was very young. So I gave Emmrich’s parents those professions as a little nod to the grandmother I only knew very little, and the grandfather I never met at all. I would’ve liked time with them both. And to end on a lighter note, "Ever thought of becoming a hat person?" is an extremely oblique reference to a line spoken to one of gaming's greatest characters: Murray, the demon skull from Curse of Monkey Island. (Curse is the first Monkey Island game I ever played, and therefore my favourite.)"

"Small bonus: here’s the music I listened to most while working on Emmrich and the Watchers. Some of it probably only makes sense to me, some of it seems thematically obvious. (I don’t have Spotify so best I can do is an itunes screenshot.)"

"Not on the screenshot because I changed PCs halfway through, but I also listened to a lot of music from Cryo Chamber, a great dark ambient label. [link] And their sister label, Cryo Crypt, which does "Dark Fantasy Dungeon Synth." [link] And also Allicorn IS on the screenshot but I think I've listened to his stuff on every game I've worked on by now. [link]"

[thread source link]

---

Bonus: follow-up comments and exchanges -

User: "I KNEW the torte was somebody’s family recipe!!" // Sylvia: "My only regret is that the icing was originally a stove-boiled icing made with eggs and chocolate and butter emulsified together. I couldn't get it working, however, these past few years. I think we lost some crucial part of the steps when trying to write out a clean copy. So I went with ganache for the game, because I didn't want to print something that didn't work, and I've used ganache myself. It's good! But I'm going to try to replicate the original again one day." [source, two] // User: "I noticed that sometimes, ingredients doesn't react the way they used to and part of that is probably due to some "industrial" changes in the recipe for ingredients like chocolate or butter to cut the cost of making them, imho. It's sad because it means we lost a very specific way to do things..." // Sylvia: "Yeah, that was the first thing a friend who bakes a lot suggested. I wonder if I was a victim of "Buttergate" when Canadian cows were being fed so much palm oil butter was harder to spread as a result. After a long search, I found a local place that makes butter that actually tastes good, which is an incredibly sad sentence to have to type out." [source, two]

Sylvia, re: Vincent Price being a gourmand and his cooking book: "It's extremely cool. My library had a copy and I remember it being pretty big, too." [source]

User: "I was following this thread and I'm delighted about all of these facts and information. Thank you for sharing!" // Sylvia: "Aw thank you! And thanks for reading, it was nice to unpack all the stuff kicking around my mental attic." [source]

User, re: MFC: "Sorry to post again but this one got me- my mom is a doc, and i remember her telling me stories of the cadaver she worked on (evidence of different surgeries she had, the cancer she had, etc), and mom always ended her stories saying how thankful she was to her. It really does stick around." // Sylvia: "No need to apologize, I liked hearing about your mom's reaction! It's exactly what I kept hearing and reading about, a sense of reverence for the gift." [source]

Sylvia: ""The irony that I had to convert the measurements back to metric" Haha. I tried to get as close as I could. Here's the written down metric version of the cake batter. It's an older recipe so I had to try to guess what a "knife tip" ended up as." [source]

A user on the torte being a family recipe: "Oh my gosh 🥹 that makes it all even lovelier!" // Sylvia: "Thanks! I was really excited to share the family recipe, it's a bit of work but it's one of my favorites." [source]

A user under the post about MR James' Collected Ghost Stories: "So you're probably the one behind the mysterious bronze whistle, I take it?" // Sylvia: "Haha, guilty. Cameron Harris, our editor, helped me figure out a phonetic guide to the latin. (If it fails anywhere it's very likely my fault.)" [source]

User: "As an avid Emmrich lover & someone trying to write some Emmrich POVs in my Emrook fanfictions, I can not thank you ENOUGH for this wealth of info / music inspo to go off of" // Sylvia: "Thank you! (Seriously though some of those songs probably only make sense to me, they're not all thematically on point, but some are. Hope you enjoy!)" [source]

User: "As another "needs a million hours of droning ambient music to write" writer I appreciate these greatly" // Sylvia: "We both have good taste! 🎶" [source]

User: "Thank you for writing out this list!! Peter Cushing makes so much sense as an influence. I love the variety of media here, it gives me so much new stuff to check out!" // Sylvia: "Thank you for reading! If you do check out some of this stuff, hope you enjoy!" [source]

Sylvia: "thanks so much, and for reading the thread! It was fun to write." [source]

User: "Thank you for sharing these books!I was looking for a good ghost book" // Sylvia: "Thanks! Hope you enjoy James. "Oh, Whistle, and I'll Come to You, My Lad" was the first story of his I read and I'll never forget that experience." [source] // Sylvia: "I just love the mood James could create, so much." [source]

User: "ELECTRIC SIX MENTION" // Sylvia: "My greatest favorites, now and forever." [source]

Sylvia: "Please archive away, I am intent on deleting the account eventually but it'd be nice to know people could look this stuff up later if they're curious. (Future generations need to know which Atrium Carceri tracks I listened to!)" [source]

User: "Amongst many things, not the least of which is the gratitude and delight of having your fantastic insight into the writing process of Emmrich, my grandmother’s hazelnut torte is fantastically close to the Nevarran version which was a delightful discovery." // Sylvia: "Ah now nice. I assume she was also central/eastern European then? I suspect it was a popular recipe at a certain time." [source]

User: "As an ex-mortician turned game writer, this was a FASCINATING read!" // Sylvia: "Haha, I definitely took inspiration from morticians! (Thank you for checking it out, that thread got long)" [source]

User: "ATRIUM CARCERI - Such a perfect band for the Mourn Watch!" // Sylvia: "I stumbled on Atrium Carceri when I was a student, and there's happily so much dark ambient available now, but Simon Heath's particular vibe can't be beat." [source]

User: "Rockefeller Street is just like that, man. It's sticky." // Sylvia: "Yes! It's so good, it just hits a certain mood dead center." [source]

Sylvia: "Ginkys of BlueSky has created a Spotify list of the music I listened to when writing Emmrich and the Watchers! Almost everything's on there. Thank you Ginkys. (FYI: Not everything I listened to matches the MW vibe, sometimes it was just a song that got stuck in my head for a few weeks.) - [link]" [source]

User: "I appreciate Replay being on here so muuuuch" // Sylvia: "My favorite song on the album! Though 911 was also real solid." [source]

User: "Love that there's Lady Gaga" // Sylvia: "Friend just sent me Abracadabra, I'm excited for the Gothic Camp here." [source]

Sylvia, about the torte recipe: "If it's useful, here's the full thing in metric. WARNING: Last two times I tried this cooked icing, it failed. I'm not sure whether I miscopy a crucial step, or if changes to local butter were the culprit. Either way, proceed with caution. A ganache is way safer, and very similar." [source]

^ User: "Thank you! That's helpful. I haven't baked many cakes before so I'll do some research about icing/ganache before trying. Hopefully looking at local (Swedish) recipes will give me a hint of what to be careful with." // Sylvia: "Ganache is SUPER simple (you basically heat cream and pour it over chopped chocolate), so I lean even more towards recommending you go with that instead of the cooked icing. Hope you the baking." [source]

[thread source link]

[can-of-w0rmz]

My thoughts on Frankenstein can basically be summed up in, “Victor is a dickhead but at least he’s not an incel,” and “The Creature is a dickhead but at least he’s not a rich prick”.

To this day “ermmm Victor/Creature is the innocent guy and (X other character) is the bad guy achtually 🤓☝️” takes make me so fucking mad. THEY BOTH SUCK, AND THEYRE BOTH STILL SYMPATHETIC PROTAGONISTS. THATS THE POINT OF THE FUCKING BOOK😭

Also people who think Victor was the bad guy for refusing to make the Bride and going “huh, maybe making a creature for the sole purpose of suffering and fucking you is really fucked up and not my place at all actually?” legitimately need their fucking heads checked because do you genuinely have zero reading comprehension or life experience??? Can you read a book? Can you understand basic themes and concepts? Are you actually stupid?

Victor is a terrible guy for being self absorbed enough to cheat God and nature itself, creating a being that was never meant to be born and inflicting immense suffering on it by the nature of it existing in a way that fundamentally can not be balanced out — following the Christian influences and background in which the novel was written at the time, Victor is not God, he can’t offer the creature salvation or in any way metaphysically balance out his suffering, so he just introduces him to a life of a living hell by his own design and by the nature of the fact that Victor is just a man, and the Creature himself is terrible because the nihilism inherent to his condition as Victor’s creation turns him into a murderous incel who wants to just further the suffering Victor caused, because if he can’t be happy, nobody should, so he kills every innocent bystander who Victor loved and demands that he makes him a woman like Eve who’s equal to him in suffering, who exists for the sole purpose of being his, who was created to be his.

And Victor says no, because he has actual character development and realises it isn’t his place (also, very likely mirroring his engagement to Elizabeth if you kinda follow the same reading as me that Victor never really loved her romantically and felt forced into the marriage because of his mother), which, shock horror, makes Victor a more likeable protagonist, because again, shockingly, he’s actually a pretty good guy in this one situation making a really good moral decision for once by saying “yeah I’m not going to create a woman whose sole purpose in life is to fuck you and suffer as much as you, also what if she doesn’t want to fuck you???”

Are people allergic to the concept of character development or something?? Are people allergic to multifaceted complex characters?? You feel terrible for the creature because of what Victor has done to him by bringing him into existence, and you feel terrible for Victor because of how doomed he is (in the worst way, it’s not just him suffering, he has to watch everyone he loves being forced to suffer because of him) by his one mistake and how he doesn’t have any way to fix it. A creation with no God, and a Man with the weight of God upon him because of his own mistake. They’re both doomed. That’s why it’s so good, THE BOOK IS A FUCKING TRAGEDY WHY IS THIS SO DIFFICULT FOR SOME PEOPLE TO GRASP???😭

[comicaurora]

Hello! This isn't comic-related, but concerning the Frankenstein's Eyes Incident, I thought it might be worth it to drop by and say that the main thing your classics summaries inspired me to do is actually read more, especially the source materials, including Frankenstein, which became my favorite book a few years ago, and still inspires basically everything I create (the amount of homunculus and artificially constructed characters in my writing are... something). And after being introduced to it through OSP, Dracula was my gateway read into the horror fan I am today. ith the risk of putting too much feels into an ask to a stranger, if I haven't stumbled into OSP when I did, I might not have ended up being a writer at all, and now a few weeks ago my first short story got actually published and that rekindling of love for the art of storytelling sorta kinda maybe changed my life. It's frustrating when people on the internet misinterpret what you're saying and use it as basis for misinformation, but there's also other cases! I'm sure you know about that already but still, a quick "hey, your fascination with stories was so contagious it made my life better" wouldn't hurt, probably. That's all I hope you have a good day!

cool cool coolcoolcool-

[twignotstick]

Flowers for Venus

She's here~ 🩵

Note: This story is based on @cupcakeslushie 's Empyrean Weeping au. These characters are not my own, and this story is in no way canon to the main story. I really made a lot of assumptions here, so this must be emphasized.

Tags: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, ROTTMNT, Venus de Milo (TMNT), NOT MY CHARACTERS, Empyrean Weeping AU, experimentation, mental issues, perspective shifting, intentionally written to be confusing or leave out information at times, they are all family your honor

Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): childhood trauma, abandonment issues, physical violence, repeated mentions of medical(?) procedures

Words: 6,472 🪦

Summary: Venus had one person in her life, and that was what mattered. Until she didn't.

----------------------

“I'm going to fix your body.”

The young turtle gazed up into the glass chamber before him, observing the mangled, underdeveloped, and weak body within. The vitals displayed around it were at acceptable levels; nowhere near as good as needed to survive out of the chamber, but acceptable considering the circumstances.

Not acceptable to the young turtle in front of it.

“You should be out here, learning with me. Being my sister. So I'm going to fix you.”

The turtle within the chamber did not stir- only breathed, as blood was forcefully pumped through its nonfunctional veins.

----------------------

“Huginn and Muninn helped me find more books to help you!”

Three- he had realized that the body in the chamber may not yet know his name, and so he introduced himself not long ago- bounced on the balls of his feet. He had one book clutched close to his chest, with others strewn about the workspace he had made around the chamber.

“Yokai biologists have very interesting methods! I plan on attempting some of them soon- Pops said he is going to get me some more materials before I try. He said that Witch Town will probably have what I need. The fusion of biology and mysticism is incredible! Oh! Oh! And!”

He dropped the book that he was holding on the floor carelessly, tripping over his own feet as he ran over to a table to show the body's closed eyes another. This one was thicker.

“Muninn says that this one was written by a human! ‘Mary Shelley’. It's called ‘Frankenstein’. I believe that's a name too- the surname of the main character. I haven't read it yet, because I haven't had time to. However, maybe with your improved cognitive function as of recently, it could be beneficial for me to read it to you!”

Three got no response, but he could have sworn that a part of the body's brain scan spiked.

“I can't start now. I have to finish my work on the developmental errors in your lower arm, but as soon as I finish that and find what I need to find, I'll start! I'm really curious about human literature.”

Three got to work, as the mind within the chamber grew curious.

----------------------

She didn't quite know what time it was, but she knew what was supposed to happen at this time. The voice was supposed to make noises in the room- Three, that was his name- and he was supposed to talk to her. Her? She thought that sounded right.

Three had told her about pronouns. He had said that since she was biologically female, it was assumed that she would go by she and her. Just like he was male, and went by he and him.

He had said that her name was Five.

Even so, Three liked calling her Vee, justifying it with the reason that they “matched”. Five didn't quite understand where the name came from; perhaps how her name was spelled? F-I-V-E, that was what Three had told her. T-H-R-E-E, that was his. But he spelled Vee as V-E-E. Maybe that's why they matched. Both had two E's in their name.

Their names were numbers too. One, two, three, four, five. She wondered why she was Five, and he was Three. Where were One, Two, and Four? Were they there, but she couldn't hear them? Was Pops another name for One? Pops and One weren't anything alike. She wished she could ask all the questions she had in her mind.

She wished she could see. Maybe that would explain why Three hadn't spoken yet.

Just when she was starting to believe that he may not speak to her this time, Three made noise. She couldn't see, but he stumbled through the door and sat down in a chair near her with a smile on his face. He looked at her, she could feel it.

“I'm sorry I'm home late, Vee. I met a new friend today! But don't tell Pops. He's a human.”

Five knew that word. Weren't those bad?

“Timothy isn't like other humans, though. He's nice! He showed me some insects and told me their names. Surface bugs are very different from normal ones! I think I might ask Huginn and Muninn to retrieve me some books on surface entomology. I can tell them that it's biological research.”

Entomology. That's a big word. What does that mean?

“Entomology means the study of insects, by the way. It's a very interesting branch of science. Timothy said he has books that tell him the names of different insects at his house. Oh, and a house is where humans usually live. Not a lab, like we live in. Or… a glass chamber, like you live in! Though, technically your chamber is within the lab.”

The lab. She wondered what the lab looked like.

“I think that I may be able to replace your eyes soon. I've been developing a prototype, hopefully it shouldn't take me too long to finish! From there, I just have to work really hard to get your other physical errors fixed, and then you can come out here! Maybe I can even bring you to meet Timothy!”

Timothy. That was a nice name. Not as good as Three or Vee, though. They matched. Though, maybe Timothy matched too. She didn't know how to spell Timothy yet.

Maybe they could match anyway.

----------------------

Three stumbled in today. Vee couldn't see it, of course, but Three had tripped, holding in tears. His chest just wouldn't stop hurting. Pops had said he could walk it off, so that is what he tried to do.

He couldn't walk much longer, falling to the floor in front of Vee's chamber. She enjoyed hearing the sound of his breathing, but she never liked it when he breathed this heavily. That meant he was hurt and crying. That meant Pops had done an experiment or a test. That meant Three didn't have the power to work on her body. He would always apologize for that. Of course, that never stopped him. She always heard him working.

“...V-Vee…”

That is her name. He loves to remind her of that.

“M-maybe…” Three gasped deeply, holding the breath for longer than he should before slowly releasing it. “Maybe if… I finish you… he w-won't do this to m-me anymo-ore…”

Vee couldn't feel his eyes on her. Until she could.

“I've shown him y-your guts alr-ready, though… maybe he won't won't w-want to v-vi…vivi…”

That's not how he's supposed to say her name. It's Vee.

“...Vee? Vee~”

That's right.

“Veeveeveevee…”

Is that right?

The mumbling of her name faded away, turning into slow rasping breaths.

She didn't want him to be hurt and crying anymore.

----------------------

“I want to make you as strong as One is. Or, at least, he should be. I haven't met One. Or Two. Or Four. But Pops says that it's impossible for you to be that strong. You're a box turtle, designed for defense. Anyhow, it's more important that I develop your muscle mass enough for you to stand independently first.”

Vee wondered what One, Two, and Four sounded like. Maybe their voices were jumpy and squeaky like Three's was now. Maybe they were sweet, like his was before. She wondered what Pops sounded like.

“Four is a box turtle like you. He developed properly, but don't feel bad! He got stolen away, so really, he got the short end of the stick! You're living the life of luxury.”

So many types of turtle. Did that mean they couldn't match anymore?

“I showed Timothy some sketches of my work with you. He got this really weird look on his face, and I thought he might not believe that I could fix you. But, he promised that he did believe in me! And he said he can't wait to meet you!”

Surely, he was just jealous of Three's hard work.

“I'm still working on your eyes. They're causing me more problems than I thought they would, but I think I'm getting closer to a functional product! It's just taking a while to find a good base that can survive the transfer.”

Eyes. One more sense. He taught her the five: touch, taste, sight, smell, and hearing. She had hearing- or at least, she believed she did. She didn't know what else this could be. To have two senses would be marvelous.

Three's voice went away, leaving a rubbing sound. He had told her what that was. It meant he was “rubbing his hands together”. It was a “nervous habit”.

“Pops told me… he told me that talking to you was ‘fueling my delusion’. I know that, logically, you're comatose. Your body isn't supposed to work right now, for the sake of your life.”

That made sense. She was hurt. Three said that if she came out of her coma as she was now, she would die. Dying wasn't a good thing.

“But I really want you to hear me. Even subconsciously. So- so that way, when you do wake up, we'll already be friends! A-and you'll already know so much about me, so I just need to know about you!”

That sounded nice. Vee wanted to tell him about herself. Maybe she'd know just what that meant by the time she got the chance.

“I promise I'm going to fix you soon. It'll be no problem!”

Vee liked that.

----------------------

Three was hurt and crying again. But this time, he didn't come to collapse by her chamber. He was far away, in the workspace. Vee didn't want him to be hurt and crying anymore. Three had said that hurt could mean dying. Three couldn't die yet. Vee still had to tell him everything about herself.

He wasn't even saying her name this time. He was saying the human's. He was hard to hear, so quiet, so far.

Timothy.

I'm sorry, Timothy.

What does that mean?

I'm so, so sorry.

What does that mean, Three?

Please, Tim.

Three?

Please forgive me.

I'm sorry.

I'm so, so sorry.

Three?

Three, please. She wants to understand. She wants to know you.

I want to know you. Talk to me, please. Tell me everything. Tell me about Mary Shelley. Tell me about entomology. Tell me about One. Tell me about Two. Tell me about Four. Tell me about Pops. Tell me what you're working on. Tell me how you want me to be better already so I can hold your hand and talk back. Let me hold your hand.

Tell me what's wrong.

“---ee? Vee, I'm ---y, I'm here, plea--- calm down. I'm here, please. Do I need- do I need to sedate her? I-”

He's not crying anymore. He's talking to her.

“Vee? Five?”

That's right.

“Should I read to you? W-Would you like that?”

She would.

“P-progress report 13. May 23rd. It happened today. Algernon bit me.”

Flowers for Algernon. Surface literature. Of course he would read surface literature now. He was just thinking of Timothy.

Every time Three would read this specific story to her, he would explain that the first few progress reports were intentionally written with poor spelling and grammar. He would spend the whole time explaining the correct way to write the sentences, up until the writing became legible. Then, when the writing returned to its sorry state, he would resume his corrections.

“I visited the lab to see him as I do occasionally, and when I took him out of his cage, he snapped at my hand.”

Vee knew the end of this story.

“I put him back and watched him for a while. He was unusually disturbed and vicious.”

It never ended nicely. They always had to die.

“May 24th. Burt, who is in charge of the experimental animals, tells me that Algernon is changing.”

She didn't want anyone else to die.

----------------------

Something was different. Where once there was a lack of anything, now there was something. Something Vee didn't have the knowledge to understand just yet. She couldn't understand light. She couldn't understand color. Now, it was right in front of her.

A blur of a color she didn't know the name of, green, with a dash of another, purple. Three's voice came from it.

“Eyelids are open. Should be working. Just one last test-”

Three grabbed a small blur- a silver flashlight- and shined it into her eyes. Her muscles instinctively tried to close her eyelids, but there just wasn't enough power behind it. They stayed open enough for Three to see the pupils constrict.

“Yes. Yes! YES! They work! Yes!”

Three sounded happy. That was good. Maybe he looked happy, too. Vee didn't know what happy looked like yet.

“...I have to show Pops. I have to show Pops! Wait! Stay right there!”

Three left the room, and Vee thought deeply. “They work”. Three had said that her eyes “didn't work yet” before. So that must mean that they work now. That meant that she was seeing. This was what she had been looking forward to ever since Three had attempted to explain the abstract concept of seeing.

This was it.

Those colors. The nameless ones that she didn't know- the ones she didn't even know how to identify as colors- that was Three. That was the face of the voice who had been her only comfort for all of time. That was the face of the person she wanted to comfort. The voice that she heard crying and hurting. The person she wanted to hold the hand of.

The door to the room opened again, and Three returned with a taller figure. Vee had never heard him before, she was sure of that when he got close for her to hear his breathing. Maybe she could have seen him before. He was tall, and covered with new colors. She couldn't name them, but they were gold, blue, and magenta.

“Look! Look! Her eyes are functional now! They constrict and dilate! Watch!”

Three held the light to her eyes once more, and her pupils shrank again.

The new voice only grunted.

“She's so close to completion now! Th-there are only a few more developmental errors, and she just needs a little more muscle mass-”

The tall figure lashed out at Three, as another color, magenta and pink, writhing, latched around Three's throat. He was held off the floor, just a few feet. His happy breathing stopped.

“You have obsessed over this project for too long. Your progress has been agonizingly slow, and this is what you have to show for it?”

A new voice. Deeper. More menacing.

Pops.

Three gasped for air, trying to respond.

“I suppose I must also involve myself. Your inefficiency up to this point will not be forgotten.”

The writhing mass slammed Three into the floor as the tall figure walked away, shutting the door behind himself.

Three heaved shaky breaths from his spot in front of Vee's chamber. He almost sounded like he was crying and hurting.

Was this what crying and hurting looked like? Curling over yourself? Was that what she was doing? She was supposed to be hurting. She didn't think she was crying, though. Could you hurt and not cry?

Could you cry and not hurt?

Three moved onto his knees, placing one hand on the glass. His face looked different, as if the light reflected off of it differently. His eyes looked at her. For the first time, she could feel and see it.

“I'm going to get you out soon. Then… then you can be here with me. And Pops will be proud. And I'll have you, my sister. Forever, and ever, and ever. And no one will take you from me.”

Three smiled, leaning against the glass and falling asleep.

That sounded nice.

-----------🕷️-----------

“What is this?”

Vee stood over Three at his workbench, looking down at the sketch he was working on. It looked familiar, like other ones he had made, but the notes around the margins were different.

“Oh, it's another collar for Big Mama. She has someone joining the Nexus who has some immunity to electricity, so I have to work on an alternative design…”

“How does it work?”

Three looked up at Vee as she smiled softly. She loved doing this. Getting him talking about the things he knew about.

“Okay, well, since the regular electric shock won't result in what we're going for, I have to find another method of keeping the fighter in line. So- so this collar is designed to tap straight into the nerves in the neck- focusing mainly on the more secondary nerves, but also creating a pathway to the spinal column if needed. With this, the nerves can be pinched all at once, effectively paralyzing the wearer!”

Vee looked over the sketch, resting a hand on the desk next to it. “And why is this collar shaped so differently?”

Three brightened again. “Oh, well, for one, to create a visual distinction that makes it easier for Big Mama to know what type of collar it is. But also, because the specific yokai has… no neck? Sort of? They have shoulders, but it would be somewhat easy for them to slip a standard collar off. So, alternative design! And this one can be green.”

“Very good. I'm sure Mother would appreciate the change in aesthetic.”

The stone in her pocket began to glow.

“Speak of the Devil, I suppose.”

Five slipped her mask on quickly, then answered the call. “Hello, Mother.”

“Turtley-boo! Hello! Where are you, my dear? I couldn't find you!”

“I had to deliver this week's recording to Three. I'll be returning home shortly.”

“I would hope so! Everything here is always such a tissy-tassle when you're over at that terrible place. Oh, do come home quickly, please. Your mama is getting lonely.”

Vee looked to Three, and they exchanged a soft look, even behind Vee's emotionless mask. “I'll be there in a moment, Mother.”

----------------------

This was wrong.

This was all wrong.

She was supposed to be worried about being taken from him.

What could she do, now that he was taken from her?

Four was gone. Then Two was gone. Vee thought, surely Three wouldn't be that dumb. Three was smart. He cared about her. He wouldn't leave her.

So where was he now? On the surface, living with rats and humans.

And she was left behind. Stuck under the thumb of a spider that claimed to be her mother. Forced to witness the violent aftermath that had come when Three disappeared, as Lord Draxum berated her and her mother for letting Three get such delusional thoughts in his head. Ideas that made him weak and stupid. Hopes that his family cared for him. 

But he left his family, didn't he?

She was supposed to be his sister.

And he left, in search of a family that didn't even know his name. His face. His voice. That voice was supposed to be hers. The one who took care of her. The one that fixed her.

Draxum may have caused her birth, but Three gave her life.

Didn't that matter to him?

She had been so scared of being taken from him, Vee didn't even consider the idea that he may be taken from her.

Fighting against him was something from her worst nightmares.

This couldn't be happening.

This was all wrong.

----------------------

Empty apologies.

He left, all because of a stupid dream he had been chasing. He left the family he had because of some dumb idea of a family that he had romanticized in his head. He left her.

Maybe he never cared about her anyway. She was just a toy to pass the time.

She wasn't real, anyway. Just a monstrous body given life.

----------------------

“Hi, Vee!”

Four approached her, sitting down cross legged on the floor beside her. He examined the blade she had been sharpening with an odd fascination.

“Where'd you get that?” He asked innocently.

“From Mother.”

Four straightened. “O-oh. Guess I shoulda… guessed that, huh?”

“Maybe.” Of course he should have. Who wouldn't recognize one of Big Mama's weapons?

“Hmm…” Four rocked back and forth, holding his feet. “Do you feel alright with me calling you Vee? I know that's what Donnie calls you, but I know he has like… a thing with names.”

“I’m Five,” she said bluntly, looking up at Four for a moment. “But I don't mind being called Vee.”

“Cool!” Four smiled, almost as sweetly as she remembered Three doing. “What's it short for?”

Vee paused and looked back up at Four. “Sorry?”

Four blinked. “...Vee. What's it short for?”

She squinted. “It stands for the roman numeral for Five. It isn't ‘short’ for anything.”

“Oh. Well, that's not right.” Four shook his head disapprovingly. “You need to match with us!”

That made Vee think. “Match?”

“Yeah!” Four shifted to sit on his knees. “See, cause I'm called Mikey. That's short for Michelangelo. He was a human artist in the Renaissance. And Raph is Raph, short for Raphael. And Leo is Leo, short for Leonardo. And Donnie is Donnie, short for Donatello!”

Vee put her blade down on the ground, giving Mikey all of her attention. “So they match because they're all artists?”

“Well, and since they're from the Renaissance, and since we've all got nicknames!” Mikey grinned. “Do you… want a name that matches with ours?”

“Yes.” Vee answered before she could really think about what she was saying. “I-I mean, I don't really need one, but-”

“Sweet!” Mikey patted his hands on the ground. “Now, what names could work… Genevieve? No, that would be Jenny… Vivian? Nah, that's not good enough. Oh!”

“What?”

“Well, I know all of our names are from artists, but, uh, what if your name was from a piece of art?”

Vee thought for a moment. It was certainly true that she wasn't like the other turtles. Obviously, her name would have to reflect that.

Though, maybe being a work of art wouldn't be so bad.

“Sure. But tell me the name before I agree to anything.”

Mikey's expression suddenly shifted to a more serious one. “Of course. How about… Venus de Milo?”

Venus de Milo.

“...what is it?”

“It's a statue from ancient Greece. She sorta got her arms ripped off, but she's still incredibly beautiful and detailed, and a very widely known masterpiece! Wait, lemme see if I've got internet-”

Mikey fumbled with his phone, desperately trying to gather some internet signal in the depths of the Hidden City. Meanwhile, Vee simmered in the thought. A statue, broken, never to be truly as it was before. And yet, it was beautiful, not just because of what it still had, but because it had lost. It had persevered. Because something so beautiful was never truly perfect. That was what allowed it to be beautiful instead.

Maybe that beauty made it perfect, anyway.

“I like it.”

Mikey's eyes flitted up from his hunch over his phone. “Oh? Great!” He corrected his posture. “How ‘bout you try it out? Introduce yourself to me!”

Vee cleared her throat, checking her own posture out of habit. “Hello, Michelangelo. My name is Venus de Milo. You may call me Vee.” She extended her hand for a handshake. Mikey met it vehemently.

“Perfect! Now, you match with all of us! Man, the teamwork and collaboration on this mission is gonna be on point!”

Venus smiled, turning the interaction around in her head.

Maybe she could be a masterpiece.

----------------------

Donnie loved to talk. Vee always knew that. But, for too long, she had never noticed how much he loved to be listened to; to have another directly engaging in the conversation. Once she learned that, she learned that she had a love for listening.

It was sometimes hard for her to understand her own wants without comparing them to the wants of others. She loved to listen because Donnie loved to talk. She loved to spar because that made Raph happy. She loved to ask questions so Leo could explain the nonsensical movies he showed her. She loved to eat because Mikey loved to cook.

But right now, none of that really mattered. Donnie was talking, and Vee loved to listen.

“Splinter told me that I could make him, as long as I make sure he doesn't turn, like, evil or anything. Though, honestly, if a robot uprising were to happen, I think it would be smart to just accept fate.”

Donnie was cleaning up some sort of schematic on a bean bag as a movie played on the TV. Vee sat next to him, not paying attention to the film at all. Screams about hot food went in one ear and out the other.

“So these are the plans you have so far?”

“Exactly!” Donnie brightened, then slumped as he came to a realization. “He's actually based on a design I made before you got out of your chamber. P-... Draxum destroyed that one, though.”

“Oh.” Vee slumped a bit as well. “I wish I could have seen it. Maybe I'd be more helpful now with these designs.”

“Uh, y-you don't have to worry about it!” Donnie waved his arms frantically. “It was my fault you were stuck in there anyway.”

“No it wasn't.” Vee looked at him blankly. “It was Lord Draxum's fault. He made me faulty. You helped me. You fixed my body.”

Donnie flustered, scratching at his neck. “W-well, not really. I didn't even-”

“You gave me my eyes. You gave me purpose.”

He looked at his sister, hands shaking almost invisibly where they gripped his sketching paper. Something strange came to his eyes- a shimmer, one that she knew. “I-I'm-”

“If you say you're sorry one more time, I might just rip your tongue out.”

“But I am! In more words than I can say, I am! You cared about me so much, and I just left you without a second thought. No apology I can give can ever make up for that.”

Vee sighed, shaking her head, looking at Donnie with tired eyes. “You're right.”

Donnie's nervous energy evaporated and he stilled.

“No apology will ever be enough. When you apologized to me, I didn't forgive you. When you apologized to me, I hated you.”

Venus paused, questioning whether or not she should continue. When Donnie gave no reaction, she decided to.

“When you tried to explain what had happened, I hated you. When you asked for my help, invited me in, told me you wanted me back, I hated you.”

Genuine tears started to well up in custom built eyes.

“B-because… because I couldn't believe you. You left me, and that was what was real. That was what mattered.”

Donnie took a breath in, as if to add something, but ultimately decided against it.

“Part of me still doesn't believe you.”

Months of worrying. Months of waiting. Months of simmering in hatred for the one person she had convinced herself she could trust. Months of wondering, “Would he have stayed if I had been better?” Months of unbridled rage towards her creator, who couldn't have waited just a little longer to make her right. Months thinking of her other so called “brothers” who stole her brother away.

He said no one could take her from him. So why would he throw her away?

“But you showed me otherwise.”

She never knew how to put these things into words. There was something difficult about bringing her thoughts out in that way. Because of this, she could never really tell Donnie how it felt when he first showed her that room he had prepared, which he left mostly empty for her to decorate herself. She could never explain how it felt when Splinter traced her stitches, complimenting how wonderfully they framed her features. She could never properly thank Raph for expressing his admiration for her fighting style. She couldn't express the joy she felt when she saw Leo do something that would make him feel embarrassed hours later. She could never say anything more than “It’s great” when eating one of Mikey's meals, one that should make a food critic cry.

“So you don't need to apologize anymore. You showed me how you cared, and that's all that matters now.”

Vee grabbed Donnie's hand, and the two shared a wordless understanding.

You can cry and not hurt.

----------------------

Vee woke up to the sound of someone else moving around the lair.  All of her brothers were still covered in blankets around her, and a blank tarp hung on the wall stood in front of her that she vaguely remembered watching a projected video essay on before she fell into slumber. There was only one person missing from the scene…

As she pushed herself to her feet and walked into the hall, Vee came face to face with a still bonnet wearing April.

“Oh, morning, Vee!” April greeted energetically. “What're you doing up already?”

“This is a normal time to wake up, isn't it? You're awake.”

April hummed. “I guess you're right. I'm just used to the guys sleeping in super late. You hungry?”

Vee nodded, following April silently into the kitchen. Just a short time ago, she would have wanted to cut April's head off, purely because of her human existence. Now, she felt a strange, foreign comfort around the human. Not quite like she felt with her brother, or her other brothers, but something akin to it.

April started loading up the toaster, grabbing some spreads and setting them out on the counter.

“Got any plans today, Miss Milo?”

Vee chuckled. “It's Miss de Milo, and, uh, no. You got any plans, Miss Neil?”

April laughed in turn. “Actually, I do. And since you don't have any, I was hoping you might help me out with mine.”

Vee nodded, letting her continue.

“I brought some stuff from my place to do a spa day, slash makeover day. Figured you might want to join in.”

Vee thought for a moment. “I know what a spa day is, but what is a ‘makeover’?”

“Well, it's like,” she hesitated, “it's when you put on a ton of makeup and wear fancy clothes and stuff. Not because you're not pretty, but it's just… it's a way of making yourself feel good, y'know? You've worn makeup before, right?”

“No.” Vee shrank slightly. “Mother said that it would be a lost cause. That's why she gave me the mask instead.”

“Oh.” April shook her head, scrunching her nose. “Oh, no, no. That's not gonna work. You are going to be pampered, Miss de Milo. That is an order.”

April strode out of the kitchen, and Vee followed slowly behind. Before she could see where April had gone, there was the telltale sound of a pillow being thrown into someone's face.

“Owf- wha- hey! What was that for?” Leo grumbled through the grogginess of waking up.

“We've got a busy day ahead, boys! Gotta eat breakfast so we can get to work!”

“Busy day?” Mikey asked, slightly more cognizant than Leo. “What are we doing?”

“Makeovers. All of us!”

Vee finally caught sight of April in the hallway of the living room as she saw Donnie jumping up from where he was laying. “Are we gonna do nails?!” He shouted excitedly, running up in front of April. “Can I pick the colors?”

“Of course you can, bud. Just go eat some toast first,” April responded, patting his shoulder.

Donnie hurried to the kitchen followed by his brothers, who were all still wiping the sleep from their eyes. After that, breakfast went quickly.

Raph drug a stool into the bathroom in front of the mirror, where Vee was instructed to sit. Soon, she was surrounded by her brothers and April, with a large makeup bag in the human's hands. She put the bag down on the counter, taking out a liquid foundation in the perfect hue for Vee's skin.

“Where do you even find this stuff? Party City?” Leo asked, taking out another foundation from the bag that matched his own skin.

“No,” April scoffed, preparing her workspace, “I get it online. Its makeup, not face paint. It just happens to be green. Are you complaining?”

“No, ma'am.” Leo quickly shut himself up.

“Good. Now, let's get some jobs set straight.” April started gesturing to the brothers one by one. “Donnie, you're in charge of picking colors out, and themes. Mike, you're executing Donnie's ideas, because his hands are way too shaky. Raph, my bag's in the other room, go pick something out. You'll know what I mean when you get there. And Leo, you're in charge of music and talking. Tea spilling, gossip, whatever.”

All of the turtles nodded in response, and Raph walked out to find April's bag.

“Now, Vee.” April put her hands on Vee's shoulders, looking her straight in the eyes. “You just sit here, close your eyes, and relax. We've got it all handled.”

“Okay.” Vee hesitated, closing her eyes slowly, before shooting them open again. “Wait!”

April hummed, hovering the makeup sponge she had prepared in the air.

“Can you, uh… can you leave my stitches? Not cover them up, I mean.” She couldn't help casting a glance at Donnie, who gave a timid smile.

April relaxed. “Course, Vee. Now, close your eyes and let us work our magic!”

Vee complied, and she found herself surrounded by sounds. A strange nostalgia filled her chest.

“What we thinking, D?”

“How about, uh… this?”

“Ooo! Perfect! Can I get, uh… that one first?... Thanks! Okay Vee, I'm gonna grab your hand now. It's gonna be cold!”

“What am I supposed to even talk about? I don't have any tea.”

No need for sight. Hearing those voices, comforting her. With a slight drone of music alongside.

“How about your date with Usagi?”

“Wh- April! It wasn't a date!”

“Hey! No shoving! This is a delicate art, Leo!”

“Ugh, fine.” Another shove.

“Hey! No shoving me either! I didn't even say anything!”

“Yeah, but April's busy, Mikey's busy, and you gave me a weird look.”

“I gave you a normal look. You obviously went on a date. Vee, you know?”

Vee laughed just a bit, trying not to move and disturb April's work. “Donnie's right. It was pretty clearly a date.”

“No, it wasn't!”

“Just tell us what you did, Leo.”

Unlike before, she had other senses. But somehow, removing this one made her feel comfortable. Knowing that someone else was taking care of her felt so good.

When she felt Donnie's scar covered, calloused hand grab onto hers, the comfort felt warmer.

“We didn't even-”

“Hey, April? How's this one?”

“I think it's great, but how ‘bout you ask Mister Manicure?”

“Oh. Mike?”

“That's perfect, Raph! You got any accessories?”

“Maybe in my room… lemme go check.”

The sound of heavy footfalls walking away.

“Alright, I'm gonna be working on your eyelids, so it's gonna feel a little weird. Just try to stay loose.”

“Ooo, you are gonna look so good!”

Vee allowed the sound to envelop her entirely.

“Listen, we didn't go on a date, we aren't even a thing anyways.”

“I'm going to fix your body.”

“Usagi would be very hurt it he heard that. You wanna tell him, D?”

“You should be out here, learning with me.”

“I can text him right away-”

“NO!”

“Being my sister.”

“Just admit it, Leo! You're down bad for the bunny!”

“He still hasn't admitted that?”

“No, Raph! Because I'm not ‘down bad’!”

“So I'm going to fix you.”

“Okay, keep the volume down. I gotta concentrate…”

Time passed shapelessly. Vee interacted in the conversation when asked, but otherwise, she let the noise flow over herself. Before she knew it, she was being told to stand up and having fabric pulled onto her arms, with a ribbon being tied over her shell.

“Okay, okay, just a few more touches-”

“You've been doing ‘a few more touches’ for five minutes, Donnie. She looks great!”

“SHH! Don't rush perfection, Nardo.”

Vee blushed. “You really think I look perfect?”

She felt Donnie's eyes on her. “You always have.”

Mikey awed. “Okay, okay, okay, now you can look!”

Vee opened her eyes, just as Donnie moved to the side so she could see herself in the mirror. She saw that the fabric put on her was a dress, very light blue and with flowery embroidery patterning on the bottom of the knee-length skirt. Her claws were painted with pastel colors, with a light blue backdrop behind white daisies, each having an undertone of a different color: reddish-pink, blue, orange, purple, yellow, and green. On her face, a soft blue eyeshadow was put on her eyelids, with small painted daisies incorporated into her eyeliner. Similar flowery bows were placed down the length of her braided mask tails. Donnie quickly shuffled behind her to put a necklace on her neck, with a daisy shaped pendant.

Vee found herself speechless, staring at the stranger that had been pulled out of her own skin.

“Is it alright?” April asked hesitantly.

As she rubbed her lips together, Vee forced herself to look up at the ceiling. She waved her hands at her face.

“Oh- Oh! Its waterproof! You're good!”

“It is?!” Vee squeaked, struggling to hold herself together.

“Yeah, yeah, it is!”

“That's s-so cool!” Vee finally let her tears loose, still waving at her face while nervously laughing.

“You like it? Do you like the flowers? It was Donnie's idea!” Mikey asked, beaming as bright as the sun.

“Yes! Yes, I do, thank you!” Vee paused in her flapping to look over her hands again, and the dress, and her face.

Her flowers.

When she looked to Donnie, he looked as if he couldn't be happier.

“Well that's good, cause they cost me my dignity,” Leo groaned, despite the smirk on his face. “By the way, I call next.”

April patted his shell. “Alright, Leo. We'll make you pretty so you can look good for Usagi.”

“Great, because I- Wait! HEY!”

Vee was laughing loudly now, wiping her tears delicately with a single finger. The argument slowly turned back into background noise, as Leo sat on the stool instead, squabbling far too much for April's liking. Donnie recruited Vee for color picking and inspiration searching.

And so Vee let herself exist there, not worrying about mattering or being wanted. Not worrying about if the one she cared about was hurt or crying. Not longing for another sense to experience the world with. Not questioning if she may be taken away for good. Not asking if she really had a family. Not wondering if she did something wrong, or if she even had the right to call herself alive. Not waiting for someone to talk to her.

She had her flowers, and words could never compare.

○●○●○●○

Finally, she is here. I went a little wild on this. There are just so many parts of Vee's story that I can't wait to see. She's my little brainworm 💖

I'm glad that I can get this out before the @tmntaucompetition ends, especially since EW is in the finale. Go vote for them!!! I love them so dearly :)

I'm going to edit the first chapter of my own iteration, (currently titled Second Shot), and post that soon. I simply must get my boys out into the world, especially after discovering @dluebirb's TMNT AU family reunion. Lord knows they need friends.

GO VOTE IN THE TMNT AU COMP! AAH!

Broken Brothers (and How to Fix Them)

[sheegons]

OKAY SO WHO ASKED FOR A POST THAT DETAILS DAMIANS CONNECTIONS TO MAGIC?.. nobody? oh okay.

(be forewarned, this is long)

now after ignoring batman 666, let's see what we have.

ROBIN: SON OF BATMAN (2015)

now, in robin: son of batman #1 It's confirmed that after his death in batman incorporated, damian went to hell. Hell is usually connected with the more magical side of the dc universe, but that's not it.

The entirety of the comic delves into damians connections to more mystical things. mythical swords and magical ancient towers, weird extinct bat-dragons, magical cults that want to destroy the whole world, etc etc.

this is easily regarded as one of damians best comics and having peak damian characterisation, so obviously Damian being magically inclined can easily work well with his character.

Now, after a barrel load of compliments, let's get to the extremely negative side of things.

TEEN TITANS (2016)

Damian's cloned brother has magic and that sentence is about as much as i care for this book. Moving on.

BATMAN (2016)

Again, dog shit damian characterisation, but here we go. Damian here actually shows an ability to use a binding spell and has a wand, making some sort of deal with a random demon, but a far cry from damian apparently selling his soul in batman 666. Moving on finally out of rebirth because that was a bad time for Damian's character.

ROBIN (2021)

Now we go back to the good. Apparently from the maternal part of damians family, magic is more commonplace. ra's even having a whole spell book to his name. Robin 2021 kinda toys with the ghul family and the lazarus pits magical and devilish side which isn't new... but it's new to involve damian!

In the final parts of this story, Damian's heart specifically is used as a plot device, lord deathman even dubbing it as "the bloodstream of the demon" and ruh (ra's' mother) uses it as a power source to fuel demon summonings, which started the Lazarus rain event.

TEEN TITANS DARK (Unreleased)

Back in early 2023 (i think) dc teased a sort of "teen titans dark" with damian, black alice and monkey prince. The "dark" moniker referencing Justice league dark, a magic team made up of magic users that solve magical bullshit. It's a good book, recommended read, i just thought I'd add this to the pile.

Detective comics/Knight terrors

Now, including these two together because they're about the same topic: Dreams.

damian is confirmed to have some sort of control over dreams and sleep, defeating demons that show up in his sleep, yet never actually disappear when he wakes up. He also has an ability to stay awake after a massive worldwide phenomenon causes everyone, even the dream masters that taught damian, to sleep and experience night terrors.

Dreams are, again, connected to the magical side of the dc universe. Now I'm not going to pretend like i actually read sandman to you, i can't lie on ramadan, so let's all give me a pass here for my lack of understanding of all that.

Batman and robin (2023)

In this, damian mentions a bit of off screen monster hunting with Frankenstein and lays a trap that lights someone on fire. I used to think this was some sort of hex but this artwork is extremely unclear, but since Frankenstein is mentioned and from my knowledge dc's Frankenstein is magic let's pretend this is some sort.

As an extra note: this guy definitely died. There's no way about it, he got lit on fire with nobody helping him. He's gone. Damian just killed a man.

Extra Extra notes:

talia using magic!

now, i haven't included these examples in the "the ghuls have magic" segment because uh...

(batman: the doom that came to Gotham/dc bombshells)

yeah...

Not only are these interpretations of talia EXTREMELY orientalist but also just generally out of character and could've been done with any randomly introduced characters.

For the unknowing white american people in the crowd: arabs actually don't only dress in revealing "belly dancer" outfits and lanterns. i know, shocking, we actually wear normal clothes.

And just to add again, there's a lot of stories that include ra's having magic, but I'm not the biggest ra's head (lol) so i didn't read them all, i implore u to do your own research because I'm not doing it.

this about wraps it up. thank you to the magic damian believers may we all win someday.

[theamityelf]

Have anyone coming up with Frankenstein Izuru AU. Idk this idea coming up when im bored

(And what if we made it.,..,., KamuEgi,,,???)

Okay, this is delightful because my immediate thought is to make Izuru Frankenstein's Monster (with presumably Yasuke as the doctor, or something), but there exists the option to make him the doctor, and that could be wild.

(Directions that could take: he makes the monster in a misguided attempt to impress or please Makoto, like maybe one of Makoto's friends died and Izuru is like, "I can fix it," OR he builds Makoto out of corpse parts after Makoto dies, meticulously arranging every part of him to perfectly match the original. The latter is definitely yandere/toxic Kamuegi, lol. Like, Makoto comes to life not knowing Izuru, and yet owing him everything, and Izuru is in love with him. That could break so bad. Makoto as a creature created by Izuru, learning everything from him, going "Are we friends?" with a slowly growing language proficiency, and Izuru answering, "We're soulmates. I'm in love with you, and you're in love with me." Makoto answering, "Okay." And the original Makoto was, but maybe this one isn't. Maybe this one wants to explore the world, but Izuru won't allow it. I've just reverse engineered a more intense Memory Kidnapping AU. Ignore me.)

Going with Izuru as the monster, for now, though (as I'm pretty sure that was the intention):

Izuru is created. As in actual Frankenstein, when he comes to life, his creator freaks out and runs away, and when he comes back Izuru is gone. (Yes, I am reading the Wikipedia plot synopsis of Frankenstein. Thanks for asking.)

After this, a series of chance meetings with regular people happen, which seems like how Izuru will meet Makoto.

In the book, Frankenstein goes to hide in a hovel attached to a family home, and he learns to speak and read from watching the family without their knowledge.

On one hand, I would love for this to be the Naegis. Like, Izuru forms an attachment to specifically Makoto while watching the family and learning from them.

On the other hand, I kind of don't want him to experience warmth and kindness too early in the story, which sounds like a wild thing to say but you get it. We gotta have the hurt to get the comfort.

I'm thinking, a lot of suffering happens between escaping the lab and hiding out near the Naegis. Like, straight up Appa's Lost Days level of trauma conga line. He goes through it. He learns that he is hated before he learns what words mean. (Which I'm pretty sure is true of the actual Frankenstein's Monster anyway, so we're in the clear.)

And I'm thinking maybe he kills a couple people before crashing with the Naegis, too, because he's physically good at it and they've given him no reason not to. Like, people have been attacking him just for being around, so he's basically learned "Don't let them hurt you; hurt them first." It's not even anger; it's just cold, animal pragmatism. It's possible he initially intended to kill the Naegis for their food and the warmth of their house, but then he realized that he could learn from them, if they don't know he's there.

So he watches. And he's fascinated by these feelings he's not familiar with. When the family goes to sleep, Izuru sneaks into the house proper and looks at their possessions and at them. (Makoto thinks he's dreaming of the shaggy-haired shadow figure that visits his room "some" nights. Komaru blames Makoto when some of her books go missing.) Izuru learns to speak and read.

Now, first of all, if I'm being nice, I'll let the story go: He introduces himself to the Naegis and they're super accepting of him and he gets to be a part of the family and it's everything he needed and everyone is happy, The End.

And if I'm going really mean, I'd say:

While he's lurking and learning, he starts to imagine a life with the family. He imagines that if he approaches them right and offers eloquently enough to love Makoto, that he'll get to marry in and be a part of what they are to each other.

But then instead Komaru stumbles across him at a bad time, so he doesn't get to introduce himself on his own terms, and the family is scared because he's a guy who their teenage daughter found hiding in their house, and Izuru still has all the lessons he learned before. He's hated. He's known that.

Something in him goes cold again.

So he just kidnaps Makoto and flees the family who hates him. If I'm being nice, then he doesn't kill the rest of them. In fact, sure, let's say he leaves them alive. He's grown fond of them while watching. So he lets them live, while stealing Makoto.

Makoto is definitely pretty scared, especially since Izuru's decision not to kill his family is not going to apply to everyone. But he's also not assuming the worst of Izuru. He's treating him like a person, which no one has ever done before.

Izuru is not well-adjusted about it. He's in love with Makoto, and he's learned so many words to express himself, but when it comes down to it, he's so full of anger and helplessness, knowing that what he saw for them isn't possible. That he's not worthy of what he imagined, because he was made wrong. And he can only be cold about it.

"What's your name?" Makoto asks him, not for the first time.

Izuru is eating. He chews and swallows at an unhurried pace before answering, "I don't have a name."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I wasn't given a name." He gestures to the food he placed in front of Makoto. "You should eat that. You waste their deaths if you won't even eat the food they've provided."

"I don't want you to kill people just so I can eat their food." (It was his stomach that growled first. Spurring Izuru to terrible, deadly action.)

"Consumption always requires death. The chicken, the carrot. All is cut short to feed another. Those farmers are cut short to feed us. I won't eat you, if you starve yourself to death, so you might as well eat. Let the farmers have died filling two mouths, instead of one. Or I can make you eat."

Makoto takes a slow bite, placating Izuru, whose intense gaze falls back to his food. "If you weren't given a name, then what should I call you?"

"I'm usually called 'creature'. It's what your mother shouted, as well."

"They were afraid. Startled, I mean. And you didn't give them any reason not to be."

One of Izuru's eyebrows twitches in acknowledgement. Covering the sister's mouth with his hand did not succeed in giving him time to speak. It only made things worse.

"Hey. Do you want a real name?"

"I don't care. You're the only one who speaks to me. Call me what you like."

So Makoto names him Izuru, after a famous school founder. (The founder of the school his maker attended, though he might not know this yet.)

"Listen, Izuru...If you don't think you'll be able to get food without people attacking you or being scared, why don't you send me ahead to ask for food or buy some, instead of killing them? You could hide, I could-"

"No. You'll run."

"I won't run."

"You will." Izuru speaks with cold finality. "Or you'll ask them to free you, warn them of me."

Makoto sees that Izuru is becoming agitated and doesn't argue the point. "Well, we'll just have to think of something. Because you can't go on killing people."

And also later Yasuke falls in love with Makoto (at his own peril), because I don't do that enough, lol.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

okay okay, it's a lil silly but hear me out konig + phantom of the opera au

man's got it all; need to cover his face, obsessive tendencies, and the need to be a secretive lil (big) weirdo *chef's kiss*

NO NO NO HOLD ON YOU'RE COOKIN. NOT SILLY AT ALL.

Now look here, I dunno if you know this, but I am a sucker for classic literature. One of my top three favourite books of all time is Frankenstein by Mary Shelly. That woman ate when she wrote that book and I will listen to nothing else. I also really want to write an essay about how Frankenstein is Mary Shelly discussing the inherent horror of motherhood in those times and how the lack of a mother figure shapes an individual. I think it's an extremely layered book, but I like to see the parenthood lens of the book.

Now now now, this is about Phantom of the Opera. I do know a bit about the original phantom, and I don't like to think König or reader dies in the end (just personally, I can't write a tragic ending. I really need a happy ending, not for the reader, but because I need a happy ending). So, let me introduce the idea that this is a version where the phantom wins.

This is one where the phantom was fucking right and actually, freak of nature as he is, maybe he had a point!!! Maybe, reader shouldn't be dating someone twice their age. Maybe, though König is a bit older for sure, he's actually not that old and a more appropriate age. Albeit, though now recovered, König still suffered a case of leprosy after being exposed during a war. He considers himself hideous, but maybe reader would be able to look past his sickness?

Now, is König appropriate as a lover? Probably not. He's obsessive, jealous, and a borderline stalker. He's determined to kill off the man who's trying to seduce her ('How dare you try and take my little songbird away from me!!!') and will do anything to keep reader to himself. However, he's also saving reader from a far worse fate with someone worse than him.

Reader is enchanted by Makarov of course, but König knows better and is determined to show her the light. He desperately wants to just talk to her and explain everything to her, but at this point he's committed to what he's doing and social anxiety makes him unable to just knock on her door and talk to her like a regular person.

Once again, like every incredible story in the English language, if you guys just talked everything would be fine but nobody knows how to be an adult.

Anyways, König loves reader dearly. Watching her perform makes his heart ache. His one saving grace is a beautiful voice he uses to enchant her. If his face is nothing but sickness, let him sing to his little songbird and help her connection to music. He'll do what he can to cling to any connections he has to her. He's desperate to hold her, and he'll do whatever he needs to to get to her.

IMPORTANT EDIT:

König with the phantom mask but he has two long red ribbons coming out the bottom of the eyes and the rest of his face is hidden under a dark hood. Consider it.

[henryclervalsalpha]

I fear we do not give enough credit to gris grimly’s Frankenstein graphic novel. It is the perfect adaptation for middle schoolers to read. The art fits the story, the text is more shorter but only to remove excess dialogue that they instead show with imagery and any nsfw entries, and it doesn’t remove any sense of queerness, horror, or possible gore, and elevates it instead. It is the perfect book adaptation. This is how I was introduced to Frankenstein, and it captivated me from the start.

[ghostsandmermaids]

Fandom Manifesto: Hello From The Hallowoods

(Originally written for the Fandomanifesto community on Pillowfort.)

Here's a (mostly spoiler-free) fandom manifesto for my favorite podcast, Hello From The Hallowoods. (Please try to keep the comments on this post spoiler-free as well.)

What is a fandom manifesto?

Inspired by ship manifestos, a fandom manifesto is an essay meant to introduce people to a fandom and promote it by explaining its appeal. It's a really fun tradition that I would love to keep going.

What is Hello From The Hallowoods?

Darker than your dreams, and farther North than you remember, there is a forest where life and death meet…

Hello From The Hallowoods is a queer horror podcast written and produced by William A. Wellman (they/them). This is the official description (taken from Spotify):

Come walk between the black pines! In this award-winning queer fiction podcast, a cosmic narrator follows the increasingly connected residents of the forest at the end of the world. It's a bittersweet story that explores queer identity, horror genre tropes, and finding hope in humanity's last moments.

It's set in a forest in northern Canada (the Hallowoods) in a post-apocalyptic world plagued by the black rains. The story follows the inhabitants of the Hallowoods—only some of whom are alive and human—as their lives become increasingly interconnected. 

The podcast is narrated by Nikignik (he/they), also known as One Hundred Eyes in the Dark, an eldritch god who speaks directly to the listener via their nightmares. He begins to tell these stories because he's grieving his partner, another god called Marolmar (he/him), and humans were the last thing Marolmar created. Over time, Nikignik changes from a more passive narrator to an active character in the story.

There are a lot of characters, including but not limited to:

a nonbinary Frankenstein's creature piercing together their identity

a trans ghost dealing with his occultist father

an invisible man finding love at first sight

a genderfluid storm witch trying to prove themself

a retired rockstar and her punk butch lesbian daughter

a floral-suit-wearing demon on a celestial audit of earth

a starwolf on a mission to kill said demon

a killer robot skull and his pet dead seagull

an unkindness of ravens (yes, they are one character)

… and many, many more.

How scary is it?

It's a horror podcast, so there are some scary moments, but for me, the story feels very comforting and bittersweet as it explores horror tropes in a really unique way. According to the website:

It's been described as a show that helps you sleep easier, rather than one that keeps you up at night.

The story also explores themes like religious trauma, isolation, death, grief, and queerphobia, so please check the content warnings at the end of each episode description or at the start of each episode transcript. Transcripts are available on the website.

Why should I listen to it?

If the description above didn't convince you, here are some more reasons why you should listen to Hello From The Hallowoods. 

There is so much content! I often complain about books being almost always standalones or duologies lately and TV seasons only being 8-10 episodes. If I really like something, I want to spend as much time with it as possible!

With HFTH, I don't have that problem because there is so much to listen to! There are currently (almost) 150 episodes available (plus a few live shows and bonus episodes), and new episodes come out every Wednesday. There are also weekly 100-word bonus stories on Patreon, and a tie-in novel called One Hundred Eyes In The Dark is currently in the works, so if you're looking for a story you can get really invested in (or if you're angry that all your favorite shows have been canceled), HFTH is perfect for you!

There are so many queer characters, disabled characters, and characters of color! If you're looking for a really diverse show, you will love HFTH. (I cried when I heard a character describe herself as aromantic.) But even aside from the diversity, the characters are just amazing. I mean, "What if Frankenstein's creature got love and support and was an absolute cinnamon roll?" is the perfect character concept. The villains are also really compelling and well-written. 

It's a great introduction to podcasts, especially for book lovers, because it often feels like a very immersive audiobook! The voice acting and music are incredible, and even though there are a lot of characters, you can tell them apart very easily by their voices. If you like fantasy and horror books, this could be your introduction to the world of audio dramas. 

That being said, if you have listened to other horror podcasts before, you will still love this one! It sometimes reminds me of Welcome To Night Vale, but the setting and characters are very unique, and the writing is so, so beautiful. 

It's also a great introduction to horror! I used to avoid horror media because I get scared very easily, but horror podcasts (and especially Hello From The Hallowoods) made me discover how much I actually enjoy horror. HFTH explores horror tropes in such a kind, unique, and hopeful way, and as sappy as that sounds, listening to it makes the horrors of everyday life a little easier to deal with. 

If you like Malevolent (another really great horror podcast), Harlan Guthrie has a guest role in HFTH! You might also recognize Mx. Wellman's voice from other podcasts like WOE.BEGONE, The Silt Verses or Old Gods of Appalachia. 

The fandom is amazing! Everyone is so kind and talented, and we always have a lot of fun theorizing about what will happen next. There's even a fan-run Discord server!

We also have a fan wiki, and in addition to the official information, we also have a "fun gender" for each character. Here are some of my favorites:

Tumblr Sexyman (Official)

Eye-Affiliated Podcast Host

Deer that will fuck you up

Whatever the hell was going on with the guy from Shape Of Water

Nightmare Personality

Hot Topic Goth

Dilf Automobile

How do I listen to it?

You can listen to Hello From The Hallowoods on the podcatcher of your choice. Here are some suggestions from the Hallowoods website:

Spotify

Apple Podcasts

Podbean

YouTube

Google Podcasts

It's not an anthology, so please listen to it from the beginning to see how the different characters and plot threads come together. 

The show is entirely ad-free and sponsor-free, so if you like it and want to financially support it, please consider joining the show’s Patreon.

And that's it! There are many things I didn't include for spoiler reasons, but this should give you a basic idea of what HFTH is about and why I love it so much. 

I hope I convinced you to listen to Hello From The Hallowoods, and maybe you will love it as much as I do!

[spaceagebachelormann]

Platonic hcs for Adam Frankenstein and a gender neutral reader that befriends him? hope you’re having a great day btw!

platonic adam frankenstein hcs !

✧ warnings: some swearing

✧ additional info: oh my god i got so excited when i saw this request by all means pls send more for my classic monsters m.list and/or phantom of the opera (if you’ve seen it ofc) this made me so happy ur an angel. also can be read as either the book or movie versions <3

✧ m.list — nav.

so like

he’d probably be intimidated when u first come across him

like he doesn’t trust you but he isn’t going to hurt you because he doesn’t have a reason

you probably need to show him ur not gonna do anything before he stops trying to get away from u

and when that happens he’ll still be a bit suspicious

just start by introducing urself and explaining ur intentions and he’ll calm down

he finally introduces himself to u as gently as he can cause he doesn’t wanna like. scare u away ofc

once he gets comfortable he’s such a good friend

one of the first things he does is ask u abt ur life cause he feels like it’s important to know what ur friends lives are like (he’s right go check up on ur friends rn if ur reading this 😒)

he knows he can’t like stay with u (probably) and u can’t stay with him so he gets kinda sad when u leave

goodbye hugs absolutely happen!!

and he’s super gentle cause he’s really strong and could easily crush u

also def gives head pats

erm anyway

typa guy to walk into ur house like he lives there (if u live alone)

but if he doesn’t i feel like you would be going to wherever tf he is more than him coming to u

and he gets so happy if u just show up unexpectedly

like that shit makes him more happy than showing up on scheduled time

and if ur ever late cause u had a problem for someone else oh my god

a) u came to the right person because he’s very sweet and understanding and will listen to u and give input if u ask

b) he’ll stomp that mf like a bug if u want him too

c) his hugs are fucking amazing

he’s so good at comforting <3

other than that he’d probably know how to cook from living alone so he’d like making u food

even if u don’t ask he has something ready for u

and you WILL eat it or i’m gonna come after u 😒

would also randomly bring u gifts as a thank you for befriending him because now he isn’t as lonely and has someone to talk to! <3

the thought of him like getting all happy when u come through the door to see him is making me so happy and sad at the same time he’s such a cutie patootie

this one might take some time. but once he’s rlly rlly comfortable he’ll prob tell u abt what happened with victor

was mainly afraid of telling u cause he wasn’t sure how u would react

has so much more respect for u when u aren’t rude to him abt it <3

if u have any random drama bro is invested

“SHE DID WHAT” core

will think ur in the right literally no matter what

u could’ve done some shit scandalous and he’s defending u

u could probably help him come outside more cause he’d always be inside

just say to him “hey we should go for a walk!!” and with a bit of convincing ur suddenly outside in the woods on a walk

THE ANIMALS LOVE HIM SO MUCH

like it’s so cute he’s sitting on the ground trying to pay attention to 15 animals at once

even if he’s deformed they know hes rlly sweet and wouldn’t do anything to them

also he’d fucking love picnics

like just sitting there and listening to u talk abt whatever

he loves it <3

[ripeteeth]

Hi! I hope this isn't too random or intrusive, but I discovered your blog recently due to coming across your post about reading Frankenstein when I was searching a book ask meme tag. I really enjoyed reading your thoughts about the books you like and I found I shared quite a few of your tastes and opinions as well (eg. I wasn't a big fan of Love in the Time of Cholera or Neil Gaiman's solo writing either, I really love grotesquely interesting and oddly pretty stories like Perfume).

please don't feel any pressure to answer this if you'd rather not, but I was wondering if you had any other books to recommend or talk a bit about that have really stuck with you? I'm also curious about how you usually find more good books for your future reading list – if you have any tips or advice you could share Thank you! ♡

Hi! I’m always down to talk about books I love or loathe! There’s so much out there in terms of grotesque beauty, so to speak!

I worked in a bookstore all throughout college, so I had a ton of resources there in being connected to other book lovers and had the pure luck to spend thousands of hours shelving books and having so many titles pass through my hands. Many of my favorites are here because something about the cover or summary intrigued me while I was reshelving it or finding it for someone (or pulling it during zoning to return to the publisher if it hadn’t sold). If you have a good used bookstore near you, I HIGHLY recommend just taking time to wander through and just look for something weird! Something that catches your attention, even if you can’t put your finger on why. Ask the booksellers there if they have any recommendations - I’ve rarely met a bookseller that didn’t have an opinion or five about good books to share.

I also had the benefit of having a very book-centric family, especially my mom. She’s my best friend and she introduced me to so many incredible titles, like The Stranger, Jane Eyre, Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle-Stop Cafe, Lolita, The Unbearable Lightness of Being, Anna Karenina, Murder on the Orient Express, and the collected hijinks of Jeeves and Wooster. So many of the books I read are ones she recommends!

Beyond that and recommendations from friends, I tend to pick up books from following publishers. Right now I’m obsessed with reading publications by the New York Review of Books and Fitzcarraldo Editions, both of which publish incredibly high-quality writing from authors I’ve usually never heard of. A lot of these books are either experimental or have never been translated into English before (or haven’t been published in decades). I really tend to just go through their catalogs and grab a book at random and I haven’t had a miss yet. Right now from NYRB, I’m reading Mourning A Breast, a memoir of living with breast cancer by Hong Kong writer Xi Xi, and I have Vasily Grossman’s Leningrad on deck. From Fitzcarraldo, I recently loved Drive Your Plow Over The Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk and am going to start Hurricane Season by Fernanda Melchor soon.

Right off the top of my head, based on the few you referenced here such as Perfume and Frankenstein, I’d recommend:

Grendel - John Gardner

Along with Frankenstein, this is probably my all-time favorite book. It’s a fascinating retelling of Beowulf, all from Grendel’s point-of-view. It’s lush but in that way of undergrowth and decay, and Gardner leans into Grendel’s wretchedness and monstrosity, letting it sing. He’s not interested in rehabilitating a monster, but in giving this pathetic creature a voice. I have a deep love of retellings that move the viewfinder and give the reins to a side character or villain. (Though I admit I haven’t liked many of the recent releases in this vein. They give me the crawling sensation that they were written because it became popular, not because the author had an interest in the story or characters, which is perfectly valid - hey, it’s a capitalist hellscape we all live in, no shame in getting paid - but those aren’t the books I enjoy.)

Crash - J.G. Ballard

This is a weird one. A wonderfully messy, fucked-up weird one where the heartbeat of the story is about psychosexual car crash fetishes. Cronenberg made it into a film in 1995 and the fact that Cronenberg made a movie about it at all should tell you everything you need to know.

A Good Man Is Hard To Find and Other Stories - Flannery O’Connor

If you like dark and oddly beautiful, nothing fits that criteria more than Flannery O’Connor. Something heavy and somber hovers over her work. A sense of dread. Dry grasses. Revival tents. The dead eyed stare of a preacher. A fire you cannot escape.

[A list of recs below the cut]

A few others that come to mind as titles you may enjoy, though I can’t quite put my finger on why. These are all beautifully written, fascinating, and many are uncomfortable in the precise way I like fiction to leave me feeling.

Cassandra - Christa Wolf

The Dwarf - Par Lagerkvist

Hunger - Knut Hamsun

Solenoid - Mircea Cǎrtǎrescu

We Have Always Lived In The Castle - Shirley Jackson

Rashomon and Other Stories - Ryunosuke Akutagawa

The Passion - Jeanette Winterson

Shadow and Claw - Gene Wolfe

Dancing Lessons for the Advanced in Age - Bohumil Hrabal

Voices From Chernobyl - Svetlana Alexievich (Proof that non-fiction can be poetic and haunting)

Just Kids - Patti Smith

A Map To The Door of No Return - Dionne Brand

This Way For the Gas, Ladies and Gentlemen - Tadeusz Borowski

The Street of Crocodiles - Bruno Schulz

Lote - Shola von Reinhold

On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous - Ocean Vuong

Autobiography of Red - Anne Carson

Labyrinths - Jorge Luis Borges

If on a winter’s night a traveler - Italo Calvino

2666 - Roberto Bolaño

The Name of the Rose - Umberto Eco

The Pearl Diver - Jeff Talarigo

Beyond The Gates - Molly Gloss

Oryx and Crake - Margaret Atwood

Self-Help and Other Stories - Lorrie Moore

The Historian - Elizabeth Kostova

Get In Trouble: Stories - Kelly Link

Piranesi - Susanna Clarke

Consent - Vanessa Springora

Medea - Christa Wolf

Simple Passion - Annie Ernaux

[virtuetemperance]

introducing: my 1940s hogwarts dr!

i have no shame i am dropping everything, embarrassing or not. no nsfw. tw bad ending? i fucking die lol BUT I COME BACK

eleanora odette flores, slytherin. raised in Wool's Orphanage with tom riddle, eventually discovered to be part of an old italian pureblood family that was eradicated by Grindelwald. softly sinister.

"will you be a monster with me, tommy?"

moodboards!

appearance:

ashy blonde hair and the biggest brown eyes you've ever seen. grew up in an orphanage poor, but when tom and i meet the slytherin purebloods, i tend to drift towards the luxury things that the Malfoys and Notts buy me. silver and pearls, signature scent is Shocking by Elsa Shiapirelli (1937, so a little outdated, but i like it).

storyline! wont get too crazy w the detail

("you may be my creator, but I am your master-- obey!")

raised in wool's orphanage, i became close with Tom Riddle as the two of us were both seen as 'cursed' for being able to do things the others can't. when dumbledore comes to tell us we're to go to hogwarts, ofc we jump on the opportunity.

when we get to hogwarts, both tom and i are sorted into slytherin and the purebloods quickly suck me into their circle, recognizing my last name, but i force them to include tom LOL! we get through our years and when we find out tom's heritage as the descendant of slytherin/gaunt. tom quickly becomes obsessed with it and finds the chamber, and in 5th year asks for help with his first horcrux. :(

before myrtle's death, i have a talk with dumbledore.

("if he goes down, eleanora... he will take you with him. "there is no escape for me, professor.)

then myrtle fawking dies! sorry girl

anyway im there for the murder of Tom Riddle Sr, and me and tom return from break with the Gaunt family ring (now a horcrux) on my finger wow wow wow.

7th year im head girl with tom omggg surprise!!

halfway through 7th year, tom takes me to the chamber and FUCKING EATS MY SOUL! like he turns my body into a horcrux, mingling my soul with his and consuming it. because no soft tom riddle here boys, he's an obsessive lover! and then my body is preserved in the chamber for the rest of time haha... ha.... but wait THERE'S MORE!

PART 2 BABY!

47 years later, harry potter finds me in the chamber, preserved. when the diary is destroyed, despite that not being the horcrux i was made into, it rips my soul out of tom's and I AM ONCE AGAIN LIVING WOW CAN YOU BELIEVE IT! anyway because im 17 and the main cast are like 12 there's no romance here folks just me trying to adjust as i realise who/what tom became after i was preserved as well as big sister antics with the golden trio WOWWW......

extras!

a REALLY big part of my storyline is the book Frankenstein, and it's a big part of tom and i's views and how we perceive each other hehe.

i have sanpaku eyes! it's a physical trait that's said to foreshadow early/tragic death.

and i think that's it yall? thanks!!!

[rosencrantzsguildenstern]

ask gameeeeee! 2, 26, 41; 5 for death god, 21 for balcony au... teehee (no pressure to answer all of them!!!)

hi joel! yay so many questions! (the game)

2. Go to your AO3 “Works” page, to the sidebar with all the filters, and click the drop-down arrow for “Additional Tags.” What are your top 3-5 most used tags? Do you think they accurately represent your writing habits?

i have fun looking at these myself! rn they are angst (50), fluff (17), hurt/comfort (17), character study (13) and whump (11). i mean... i do love my angst and u can probably attest to that!!! character study was a thing for me when i was a younger writer and not as much anymore, but i still do them. the number might actually be higher than it seems because i tag those sorts of fics "introspection" or just leave off a genre tag now. anyway it's very accurate! i have trends. i will say it doesn't rep how much i write things that i think are funny (bc i don't tag that all the time) or my love for aus (bc i don't get around to actually writing them 😭) and obv my og writing is excluded there, but it has similar trends to my fics in a few ways!

26. Would you rather write a fic that had no dialogue or one that was only dialogue?

definitely only dialogue! besides already writing plays and reading/watching plays, i also think dialogue adds a dynamic energy that's important. a page with dialogue is gonna look more lively than a page without, and it's probably going to be more lively, too, because it introduces an element of back-and-forth and another mode of diction (or multiple new modes!) besides the narration. you can do that without dialogue, but it doesn't come as naturally. keeping it only dialogue knocks out a mode, but dialogue can do a lot of things. (if i wanna cheat, interview with the vampire and chapters in frankenstein are like all prosey dialogue...)

rest under cut!

41. Link a fic that made you think, “Wow, I want to write like that.”

would you like an unfinished voltron fic from 2018. of course you would. here u go : sleeping on embers by szzzt. i read this one as a kid, and it was the point i aspired towards for a long time; i think about it less lately, but i think i still aspire towards it somewhat! they have gorgeous setting description, gorgeous rhythm (which esp shines in the fight scenes in the preceding work of the series) and a really well-used and strong variation in sentence structure, plus awesome like... emotion writing and focus on the right things to convey emotion and all of that. tasty, tasty, angst. back when i first read it, i didn't know how to articulate any of that and just had stars in my eyes like "omgggg this is so good". i think i included it in a 7th-grade choose your subject persuasive paper on why fanfiction is good or something. i was completely starstruck

when it comes to recent fic, i've got to admit i've been seeking a lot of role models in the darker and smuttier sides of things... i actually reread @keicordelle's stuff semi often when i wanna write intimacy, they're a real talent in that area and a role model for something it's harder to get from published books/literature! a g rated fic of theirs that's a gorgeous example of that style is this gaku fic, the truth about love, which really did something to my heart. @psychicwavementality's lustlove is also fucking amazing but uh. it's amazing in that i swear when i clicked on it even just to grab the link my stomach got upset. don't read it unless u want trauma that's greater than any other fic i've read IM SERIOUS but omg. their fic in general, which is scattered across like. multiple different anonymized accs and hard to find lol. is so well written with especially fire sensory description and i'm still trying to catch up!

-

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [The Death God's Fiesta]? Answer it now!

since it's ongoing, most of the spiciest questions are gonna be answered! but here's one:

-> what did you cut?

i was considering giving musubi, otoharu, and sousuke a whole backstory retelling in the style of sogo; in that backstory, akito hyuga, the songwriter from first beat, is sousuke's district partner and they have heavy beef and issues, to the point where it's a little compelling and interesting. musubi, otoharu, and sousuke (which i call the tsukumo trio in my head but idk if anyone else does because that's a little confusing), end up teaming up, but in the hunger games there are these things called tracker jackers which are HELL to deal with, really hurt and make u trip out of ur mind, and are used for brainwashing too, and musubi gets bit by some of those, starts acting really really erratic, otoharu ends up killing her (in the hunger games, the tracker jackers venom wears off!! too bad for him he didn't know that, just saw his gf in agony...) and then, of course, gets revenge killed.

another thing i cut is that douglas rootbank was gonna be strung up and killed with the rest of the rebels when i described that but... it wasn't so much that i consciously left that out as my brain went "i can't do that to homie doug" and ended up not writing it in kjsldf

21. If you wrote a “missing scene” in [balcony au], what would it be?

--

Tamaki listed to the side.

"Whoa, whoa!" Haruka caught him. "Don't go falling like that. Go take a nap or something."

"I don't need a nap," Tamaki complained. "You saw me sleeping in history anyway."

So had Iori, from his disapproving scoff at that mention.

"Doesn't that mean you need a nap more?"

"Nah, that's when I get the best rest. It's, like, what do you call it. A conductive environ...place. Anyway, who are you to be concerned?"

Who was he—he wasn't concerned—No, well, actually, he should be the most concerned! Touma was sad and worried all the time, biting his nails till they bled because he couldn't get a hold of his stupid other friends, and Ryou was crazy and furiously angry. Last time they'd seen him, something had made him aggrieved beyond belief; he started a monologue, but it devolved quickly into him throwing books, liquor glasses, and whatever else he could find at them until Touma was grabbing Torao and Minami's hands, Minami gripped onto Haruka, and they hurried out of the office and shut the door tight behind them.

Ryou hadn't tried to follow. Haruka had heard the sound of a few more glasses shattering against a wall, and then, a strange, strangled sob.

"Maybe he hurt himself on all the broken glass," Torao suggested.

"I bet," Haruka said vindictively, since the four of them were all scratched up and bruised besides. Really, what that anger and then crying reminded him of more was Kujo; he made his excuses and got out of there as soon as he could, taking the train to go wander around a part of the city that was as far from the Tsukumo Productions office as he could be.

Anyway—"I should be the most concerned!" Haruka said, in the present, to Tamaki.

"Eeh? Why? Hey, Iorin, do you want my pudding?"

Iori had been looking down, but straightened up. "Sure."

"Something is wrong with the universe," Haruka said. "Since when does Tamaki give away pudding?"

"Wait, you're right." Iori pushed it away. "Tamaki, you should have this. I've been seeing you give food away all the time lately!—Hang on, is that why you're not doing well?"

"'M not starving myself or anything," Tamaki mumbled, "'S just that we've been short on grocery money."

Iori was silent. His fingers twitched; like for a pen, or a calculator. "...I know..."

"Then, I can do what I want."

"But don't give up yourself for the sake of others. You're our lead dancer, so you burn the most calories out of all of us."

"Don't bring made-up words into this! What's a calorie and why do I care? Just leave it alone." Tamaki flipped his hair back out of his eyes. "I'll eat it if you don't want it." He started industriously spooning pudding into his mouth.

Haruka wordlessly pushed the rest of his lunch over to them and stood up to go.

"We don't need this," Iori said, "we're not that bad off yet."

"What do I care if you need it! I'm not hungry and it's gross, that's all."

"I don't want to eat gross food," Iori said.

"It's delicious then, fuck you." Haruka tried to storm off, but Iori caught his wrist.

"You're hurt."

Haruka ducked his head down, hiding his face, which sported a taped-on gauze patch. "None of your business."

"What happened?"

"You don't need to pry." He wrenched his arm out of Iori's grip. "We're not that bad off yet."

[fluentmoviequoter]

Literary

Requested Here!

Pairing: college!Victor Vale x fem!reader (literature student)

Summary: You take it upon yourself to show Victor the beauty of literature.

Warnings: fluff, spoilers and references to: The Outsiders, A Merchant in Venice, Invisible Man, The Hound of the Baskervilles, The Lord of the Rings, An Ideal Husband, The Picture of Dorian Gray, Hamlet, Frankenstein, The Most Dangerous Game, Pride and Prejudice. I also reference some of Schwab's other books

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Victor Vale Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

Victor is leaning over a book, scribbling notes every few lines.

“What are you reading?” you ask quietly, sitting beside him.

He flips the book up, showing you the cover of one of his many textbooks.

“Hmm. I thought you were actually reading.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re studying.”

“What’s the difference?”

You sigh, shaking your head as you murmur, “Maybe the two different worlds we lived in weren’t so different. We saw the same sunset.”

Victor ignores you, returning to his notes on adrenal responses.

“Vic, what’s the last book you read?” you ask. “I mean, what’s the last thing you read that wasn’t a textbook, required reading?”

“I think you know.”

“You really need to stop reading your parents’ books, but that’s not my point here. What’s the last fiction piece?”

“I don’t read fiction.”

Your jaw drops, shock evident in your features as you fail to speak. Finally finding your voice, you momentarily forget you’re in a library as your voice raises to repeat, “You don’t read fiction? Why?!”

“Nothing to learn from it,” Victor replies with a shrug.

“Vic.”

He glances at you as a few people whisper for you to be quiet.

“Why read something that isn’t true, that you can’t learn from?” Victor asks.

“Who says you can’t learn from fiction? Just because it didn’t happen doesn’t mean it can’t teach you something. We learn from trees, fish, paintings… literature is no different.”

Victor shakes his head, and as you look at your assigned reading, you realize you must do something.

“Meet me in your dorm after your class tomorrow,” you whisper before standing. “I have a lot to teach you.”

Victor watches you leave, shaking his head before trying to focus again. He has trouble remembering how you became friends sometimes, but then he remembers how you met…

✯✯✯✯✯

1 Year Ago

Someone decided to put Shakespeare on the top shelf. You sigh, looking around to see if anyone is nearby to help you.

“Who puts one of the most-read authors in history up so high?” you ask under your breath.

Stepping back to gauge if you could jump and reach it, you run into someone. Warm hands land on your biceps for a moment before dropping away.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize.

When you turn around, his arm is over your head.

“Which one?” he asks.

You blink at him, growing distracted, before whispering, “A Merchant in Venice. Please.”

He nods, pulling it off the shelf and lowering it between your chest and his.

“Thank you.”

He nods again and steps back before you rush to introduce yourself.

“Victor,” he offers.

“Nice to meet you, Victor. I’ll see you around.”

His pale brows furrow and you immediately decide you will see him again, no matter what it takes.

✯✯✯✯✯

Present Day

“You’re late,” you chide as Victor enters his dorm.

“How did you get in here?” Victor asks, ignoring your comment.

“Eli keeps a key hidden under the doormat.”

“Idiot,” Victor mumbles.

“I concur, but we’re not here to talk about Eli. In fact, I wish I could forget his name.”

Victor neither agrees nor disagrees, but asks, “What are you here to do?”

You raise your brows, smiling as you tease, “What do you want me to do?”

“I’d like you to leave,” Victor replies flatly. “But it seems unlikely.”

“What and how much had I lost by trying to do only what was expected of me instead of what I myself had wished to do?”

“What is that?”

“Invisible Man, H.G. Wells,” you reply, smiling.

“Why do you make everything about books?”

“Look, I’m here to convince you that fiction, that literature, is beautiful. Vic, there are more lives in literature than we could dream of living; whatever you want to do, learn, be, it’s all in there.”

“Is this going to become another debate on whether pride or prejudice is more detrimental to character development?”

You sigh, looking at the stack of books you brought. Victor watches you, and when he realizes that you’re serious, he removes his trench coat and joins you on the couch.

“You have ten minutes,” Victor tells you.

“Okay, then I get to ask questions, too,” you counter. “So, first, what is your issue with fiction?”

“It’s fake, unbelievable.”

“They don’t have to be about an immortal woman finding her reincarnated lover or parallel earths. Being made up and being unbelievable aren’t inherently connected. Middle-Earth isn’t real, but the imagery makes it realistic.”

“One out of a million, well, I’m convinced,” Victor says, hitting his thighs.

You stretch your arm out past him to stop him from standing. “What kind of fiction did you read before coming to this conclusion?”

“Uh, I remember reading fantasy in middle school.”

Waiting for more, you ask, “And?”

“That’s it.”

Chuckling, you lean toward him. “Literature isn’t about one type of story, Vic. You don’t have to choose a genre and stick to it. No two books are the same because no two people or stories are the same. There isn’t fiction or nonfiction, mysteries or romance, you can read any and everything you want. It’s both/and, not either/or.”

“If your argument is now ‘read what you want to read,’ why can’t I stick to my textbooks?”

You groan, laying your head against Victor’s shoulder. “Because I can’t rest until I help you see why literature is so beautiful and impactful. Why do you think I’m studying it, giving my life to it? Because it changed my life, Victor, and if you give it a chance it can change yours, too.”

“Then what is it you want to do?”

“Is this an invitation?”

Victor sighs as he nods, his shoulder warm from your touch.

“Then, I’m going to teach you and you’re going to be patient and give it a chance.”

“Fine. Where do we start?”

“I mean, your parental trauma is begging for a look at Hamlet, but we’ll ease into it.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You intentionally left a copy of Invisible Man by H.G. Wells on his table when you gathered your things after visiting Victor. While you walk to the library to meet him, you hope he’s read it.

“Hey,” you greet softly.

Victor nods, sliding an anatomy book onto the return shelf.

“Glad I caught you while your friends are busy,” you tease, taking the chair closest to him.

“Alone—it is wonderful how little a man can do alone! To rob a little, to hurt a little, and there is the end.”

“You read it. Even though it’s completely unbelievable and unrealistic?”

“All men, however highly educated, retain some superstitious inklings.”

Your eyes widen as you realize that he not only read it in its entirety but enjoyed it enough to remember it.

“Racism, symbolism, foreshadowing,” Victor lists off. “It wasn’t completely incapable of teaching something.”

“Did you just admit you were wrong?”

“No.”

“So, are you open to more?”

Victor shrugs, and you slide a worn copy of The Hound of the Baskervilles to Victor. He picks it up, touching the cracked spine before looking at you.

“Sherlock is famous,” you answer, smiling brightly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Stapleton was a deceiver,” Victor says, rushing to your side as you exit class.

“What?” you reply, surprised to see him.

“The hound- it’s a symbol of his deception and the entire time the moor is symbolizing the cloudiness of the mystery because it wasn’t a real mystery. Stapleton’s death was completely avoidable, yet he isn’t even the one to be attacked by the hound.”

You stop, grabbing Victor’s coat to stop him as well.

“You read the entire book last night?”

“I- I couldn’t put it down,” Victor admits lowly.

“Do you see what I mean now?”

“I’m- I’m starting to. Uh, what next?”

“I don’t have another book for you right now. We can go get-“

“Yes. Please,” Victor adds.

“Ready to try fantasy again?” you ask with a smile.

Victor inhales deeply before nodding. “I trust you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When Victor closes the book, he stares at the cover.

“Well?” you ask. “Don’t say anything bad about Aragorn, that’s all I ask.”

“He and Legolas portray a really- a perfect friendship,” he answers.

“Amity.” Victor glances up at you, and you explain, “Amity is usually associated with Shakespeare. His male friendships were built on this mutual respect and beneficial relationship qualities, but Tolkien used it in his creation of the Fellowship as well.

“I think…” you pause as you look at your overflowing bookshelf. “It’s time for a play.”

“Please no Shakespeare.”

“Okay, one, we need to get you over your irrational fear of the Bard.”

“It’s not irrational, he makes me want to puke.”

“Because he makes you feel things; must be weird for you.”

Victor rolls his eyes, and you smile as you find what you’re looking for.

“Oscar Wilde. An Ideal Husband.”

“What’s it about?”

“An ideal husband.”

Victor huffs, and you quote, “Seriousness would be very unbecoming of him. Pray be as trivial as you can.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Victor, the point of books is to read it the way you’re supposed to read it. And if you want to talk after finding out what it’s about – in your eyes – then we can. As you gain experience it will be easier to find the common ‘accepted’ views too. But the point is to read for yourself.”

“Experience is merely the name men gave to their mistakes.”

You gasp, rushing to stand over Victor. “You’ve read Wilde before!”

“Just Dorian Gray when I was a kid. Thought it might help me escape the cookie cutter I kept getting shoved into.” Noticing your smile, Victor asks, “What?”

“You’re getting symbolic and theme-y. My literature lessons are rubbing off on you.”

“Something certainly is,” Victor replies, looking at your leg pressed to his.

“Are you ready to admit I’m right?”

“Not if it means the lessons end.”

“Oh, never. We’re a two-man book club now, Vic.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“Are you here to speak to me as Lord Goring speaks to Mabel?” you ask, blocking the doorway.

“More like Mrs. Cheveley to Robert.”

“If you keep using literature references, I’m going to fall in love with you, Vic.”

“I have a request,” Victor says, drawing your attention (and his) from your comment.

“I’ll see what I can do.”

He moves to your bookshelf after you open the door, quickly finding what he’s looking for. He holds it up, and you cross your arms.

“You sure?” After he nods, you say, “Go for it. It’s short, read it here if you want.”

Victor doesn’t have to be told twice, tossing his coat over the back of your couch and making himself comfortable with a copy of Hamlet.

✯✯✯✯✯

“This is too long,” Victor reads.

“It shall be to the barber’s, with your beard,” you reply.

“Don’t spoil it,” Victor reprimands.

“Though you can fret me, you cannot play upon me.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Within a few hours, Victor is done with the play and pacing.

“Still want to read your parents’ books?” you ask.

“Yeah. But- if Hamlet can deal with an actual ghost, I guess their passive aggressive advice isn’t so bad.”

You chuckle before pointing out, “Hamlet was troubled when Horatio, Marcellus, and Barnardo told him. If it assumes my noble father’s person, I’ll speak to it isn’t an outright acknowledgment of who it is. It isn’t until he talks to the ghost that he seeks revenge on his uncle.”

“Which applies to me in no way,” Victor argues.

“What does Hamlet do to get revenge?”

Sighing, Victor answers, “Nothing.”

“Hamlet changes his reaction because of his morals and his thoughts. You can change your view of your parents like that, too.”

Victor sighs, and you see his poorly hidden smile after you say, “Though I personally won’t decide to forgive them for what they did to you.”

✯✯✯✯✯

“What’s your favorite book?” Victor asks.

You answer without hesitation, then ask, “Why?”

“Can I read it?”

“Sure. If you admit you were wrong.”

“I was wrong. Literature can be good, and it is possible to learn from fiction.” He quiets to add, “And you have good taste.”

You lean closer, turning your ear toward him as you ask him to repeat that.

 “I’m not your Lord Goring or your Mr. Darcy or any other dashing soulmate,” he says.

“No, you’re not,” you agree. “You’re my Victor Vale.”

Victor’s phone buzzes, and he rolls his eyes as he reads Eli’s message.

“Is he still working on the EO thing?” you ask. When he nods, you murmur, “Someone never read Frankenstein.”

“Would I like it?”

Nodding, you sit beside Victor. “Be careful with Eli, though. Books can teach a lot, but anything short of Richard Connell’s The Most Dangerous Game won’t prepare you to deal with him.”

“What’s that about?”

You consider not telling him, but he nudges you with his elbow, and you concede. “A man who hunts other men for sport.”

Victor hums, looking back at his phone. “Can I admit something else?”

“Depends.”

“I didn’t lie about my thoughts on reading, but I learned something else.”

“When?”

“The week you forced me to read Pride and Prejudice.”

“You learned that you must be in want of a wife. I suppose I could be convinced to consider a proposal.”

“No. Darcy taught- he said, ‘My real purpose was to see you, and to judge, if I could, whether I might ever hope to make you love me.’”

Twisting toward Victor, you lay your hand over his heart. “The only people for me are the mad ones.”

“Is that a yes? A maybe?”

“It’s a yes,” you whisper. “I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”

“I don’t know that one.”

“I told you; we’re easing you into it,” you remind him, kissing his jaw and chuckling when his breath catches.

Bonus: 10 Years Later

“What happened in Merit, Victor?” you demand.

Victor stiffens at your use of his name, no ‘Vic’ or pet name. Rather than telling you the exact truth, he takes your hand and says, “I was benevolent and good: misery made me a fiend. Make me happy and I shall again be virtuous.”

You relax, pulling him close as you reply, “We’re not having the argument about you being a monster again, but you know I’ll do everything I can to make you happy.”

Victor returns your hug, and you feel a small paperback in his pocket, smiling at how much has changed.

“The world is made up of two classes – the hunters and the huntees. No one will blame you for this, Vic, but it will never be the same.”

“I have you and your books,” Victor replies. “There is no one more equipped for change than us.”

“I can’t believe you used to be against fiction and now you carry around a barely legible copy of my favorite book.”

“What can I say? It is love. Love, and only love. For both of us a new life is beginning.”