#what if we took All the gothic out of this gothic story

[gloriousmonsters]

me @ myself: I don't care that you're on a Turn of the Screw kick right now for some reason, do NOT look up the wiki for H/aunting of Bl.y Manor. you KNOW you have a massive grudge against '''haunting of hill house'''. you KNOW that whatever it is you're not going to like it

me:

me: i'm going to look up tHoBM

me one episode list read later:

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Allure

Part One:Sunshine

❥MATZ x fem reader

Kim Hongjoong and Park Seonghwa. The most known and feared alphas of the new generation. It took two dozen elder alphas to subdue them and stick them in the world's most secluded prison- hidden away in the mountains. The prison that sweet little omega (Y/n)'s works at.

Knuckle Velvet (Part Two)

Smoke (Part Three)

➯a/n: i've always wanted to write a story i would like to see as a movie or show, and i very much enjoy supernatural and dark romance, so i made this ! it does get very dark so please read the warnings and take care of yourself first and foremost. i am very proud of this, i hope you enjoy 💕

✃ "Because you're... alluring."

✫彡wordcount: 9.3k

♫"Hey, you should leave that young thing alone, ain't no sunshine when she's gone, only darkness everyday." - Flower Face (original by Bill Withers) ♫ Allure Sountrack

(>ᴗ•)♡´･ᴗ･`♡genre: smut, YANDERE, a/b/o au

ಠ_ಠWARNING/content: DEAD DOVE I MURDERED THAT BIH

chapter specific: literally what have i done, not beta read(ironically), criminal MATZ, alpha MATZ/omega reader, forget everything you know about werewolves, so much world building, extremely yandere behavior, talk of attempted child murder, class division of werewolves, panic attacks, vulgar language, mind control, lots of scent stuff, unhealthy relationships, ptsd, flashbacks and nightmares, physical violence, manipulation of others dreams, supporting character death, forced soul bonding, forced marking, reader implied to have mental health issues, murder, gore, violence- all that good stuff. THIS IS NOT A NON CON FIC ALL EVENTUAL SMUT WILL BE CONSENSUAL.

⁂perm taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg

⁂fic taglist: @potatomountain @spooo00oky

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

˚➶ ｡˚ PART ONE ˚➶ ｡˚

You hate weekdays. That much is true for a lot of people. You like to think your reasoning is especially valid.

Every Monday through Friday like clockwork, 6:30AM you walk into the prison. That on its own wasn't so bad. You lived only ten minutes away; the gothic building looked over your village in tandem with the mountains. You could see it when the weather was clear, even from your bedroom on the edge of town. You were no longer afraid of it like when you were a child.

You are, however, afraid of the newest prisoners.

New arrivals didn't usually rock you. This is the only prison in the country fit to hold lycans, after all. They all got transferred here eventually. From beta's who were just stealing to eat, to alphas who used their powers on humans, to those who believed in the old ways and fed on humans.

You had to interact with them all face to face.

You weren't excited for that particular aspect of your job this week.

You made your way through the double doors and greeted the security guard, your friend Hyolyn, as you went through the metal detector. It went off on account of the scent blocker that was embedded in your neck. She chuckled and switched it off so it stopped its incessant beeping.

"Don't laugh at me!" You threw a smile her way as you got your small purse from the plastic bucket she slid towards you. She doesn't bother to check your bag. She knows you well enough to know you wouldn't bring in any "fuck shit", as she would say. "You alpha's don't have to worry about accidentally spewing scent everywhere."

"Thank goodness for that, this place would stink to high heaven." Her unintentional reference to the new arrivals makes the air turn stiff. She could tell you were on edge immediately. "They aren't all that scary," she lays a comforting hand to your shoulder as you fiddle with the long strap on your crossbody bag.

"I heard one of them killed Alpha Greene... you think that's true? That guy was huge, I saw him at The Thing last year, I almost peed myself cause he looked at me-" You stop your own rambling, taking a deep breath and letting it out as a shaking sigh. "I don't want to go in there. Honestly, why can't we install a laundry chute or something, fuck."

"I'll follow you up, I c-"

"No, no, it's visiting day. You need to be down here. You know Chungha? Her daughter is visiting today. Don't want you to miss her." You offer a sad, tight lipped smile, but that doesn't trick her instincts to protect her weaker pack member. She knows you too well to be tricked.

"You just scream and I'll be there. Either of those cocky fucks lift a pinky in your direction and I'll gut them. They don't deserve to see a trial anyway."

A small exhale in the form of a chuckle lightens her protective instincts, she can tell you feel more at ease with her promise to be right there at the slightest hint of trouble.

"See you, Hyolyn."

"Later, babes."

You wave your fingers with a smile as the elevator doors slides shut. As soon as they clunk together, you let it fall and crouch with your head in your hands, taking in deep and slow breaths as you try and force all of the rumors you've heard about the two newest inmates away from your head.

The older alpha of the duo was the first born in this generation. They're always powerful. But he was born to two bloodthirsty rouges. Born in sin and blood lust.

The younger alpha was born just some months after, to an arranged marriage that was purposefully formed to make powerful children. They surely regret that now. Some say the man has the strongest, sharpest claws since the first lycan in Talbot Castle.

When the elevator dings, you're already upright and have that strong facade on that you put on when you're clocked in.

˚➶ ｡˚

You start with the familiar. "Hey, Chungha," you tap on the silver bars of her cell, "hand 'em over." She smiles as she stands, stripping the sheets from her cot and holding them through the bars for you. "Thank you," you draw on with a tug on your lips that matches hers.

"Yunnie in town?"

"Mhm," you hum as you fold the blanket before dropping it in the large basket on wheels, "she came over for stew, I made sure to feed her good and well, don't worry."

You know it was probably problematic, but you couldn't help it. Chungha came here three years ago on a charge for battery, and over those three years you became sort of friends with her.

The battered in her case was her grandfather. When her five year old daughter, Jiyun, started to show signs of being an omega- he left her in the snow to wither away. She managed to survive until her mother came home, and said mother was furious.

She was lucky she didn't charged with attempted manslaughter.

"She said she'll be here first thing."

"Thank you," she had a heavy pull on her voice. You don't have the emotional connection to other wolves like an alpha or beta did. But it was clear to anyone she was being sincere. "You're a good woman."

"Don't mention it, Yunnie is good company. Oh," you start to wheel the basket away when you remember something. You reach into the purse that you had set on the handles. "She made this at art class, asked me to give it to you so it didn't have to wait in processing."

It was a small, cruelly made ceramic bowl in the vague shape of a heart. It was clearly made by an eight year old, but made with love.

"I owe you."

"Just keep working on that parol work." You said lightly and blew a kiss as you moved to the next cell.

    The rest of your work nearly cleared your mind as you went from cell to cell, floor to floor. Omega's were on the second floor. Beta's on the third. Alphas on the fourth. High security on the fifth.

     It's on the fourth level that you begin to feel those nerves that you had just worked away. The scent was becoming stronger. They didn't put them on blockers? Maybe they didn't think it would be worth it. Everyone knew that they were the worst of the worst, they didn't even try to hide it. They would undoubtedly be put to death. Why waste two perfectly good, expensive, blockers?

     The basket of used sheets is nearly full, accumulating into a weight that makes you put your back into it as you push it into the elevator.

    Your index finger reaches out, and before you can stop yourself you've pressed the button to the fifth floor.

       You blank out until the door opens again. Your teeth are eternally grateful for the gum between them so they don't grind themselves into dust. The mint flavor does little to calm your nerves.

     The only thing that makes you come back to your own head is Changbin. He's a big, buff beta with a gun full of silver bullets on his work belt. He won't let them hurt you. His smile washes away a lot of the nerves.

    But the growl that rumbles against the walls makes them return ten, one hundred, one thousand fold. You don't dare say a word. A deer in headlights until Changbin places his hand on the small of your back. "Go on, don't give them the satisfaction of scaring you. They aren't going nowhere no time soon. Take a look."

     He motions you deeper into the hall, florescent lights buzzing above you, matching the jittering feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach. It smells too strong. Too much. You're about to fall to your knees from the weight and you haven't even come face to face with the near feral criminals.

    Changbin opens the doors at the end of the hall.

     They've definitely gone all out to keep them in place. Two large cages placed next to each other in the middle of the enormous room. Made of pure silver and wrapped in wolfsbane. The unpleasant smell of the plant makes your nose twitch. A ring of blood ash surrounds it. Only omegas can pass through blood ash, and now you start to realize why they sent you.

    You want to curse the warden, but the second you open your mouth, a loud cackle sounds out from one of the cages.

     Changbin's hand twitches at the gun attached to his side.

    "Oh wow," the smaller alpha chuckles, eyes closed, head tilted back, as he sniffs the air. "I didn't expect that." More manic giggles slip past his lips.

    You haven't even looked up to see them and you want to cave in on yourself.

    "What are you rambling about, huh?" The guard next to you shouts, making you flinch instinctively.

     "That sweet... sweet, smell," he moans. You can hear him shuffling. "From a peppy little spit fuck omega."

   You gasp abashedly, and now two laughs ring out. You want to wonder how they can smell you. Your insurance provides the best scent blocker in the country. But you're too scared to breathe, let alone think.

      "Shut up," Changbin groans, he can feel you tense next to him, "don't piss me off, Kim."

    "Awe," a new, rumbling voice makes you cower the second it reaches your ears, "this your mate? Hm, no... you wouldn't bring your mate here. You're not an idiot. Then, say... omega." You don't make a move to look when he addresses you, you stay looking at Changbins grip on his gun, silently.

     "Omega, come!" Your feet move for you, and that manic laugh almost makes you wet yourself as you realize that your wolf is making you move toward them without your consent. You stop just outside of the blood ash, where you know you're safe.

     "Changb-"

     "No. I'm the one you're speaking to."

   Changbin seems to be weighing his options, eyeing the men as they eye you.

    "Why are you here? You a shrink?"

    You shake your head.

   "You a lawyer?"

    Again.

   "She works here, dumbass, look at her scrubs," the younger speaks, and you nod subconsciously, to which he giggles, "what can we do for a pretty little thing like you?"

    When you refuse to speak, the guard does it for you. "She's here for your sheets today. Get used to her."

     You hated that this was your job, but it was easy and accessible, and available for omegas. Werewolves are clean freaks. Every day you had a different cleaning task, but you didn't complain. Not until right now- you wanted to rip out the throat of whoever's idea it was to not shoot these criminals on sight.

     "Ah," he hums, and you can feel his eyes raking your body. You can feel both of their eyes. "Not too bad of a sight to get used to. Huh, Hwa?"

     "Mh, that's right... can't wait to get my hands on her."

Your head snaps back to Changbin.

"Awn, she thinks he's gonna help her!" The high pitched giggles bounce around in your head. "Oh, little omega~"

The saccharine coo finally pulls your eyes to the men in the cages.

If you thought you knew what fear was before this moment, you were wrong.

The two strongest criminals in the country, staring you down like a piece of meat. It doesn't matter that they are the ones in cages of silver and wolfsbane. You are the one who feels cornered.

You can immediately feel out their dynamics. The taller one is the older one, quiet and still in his cage as he sits in the center. Shaggy, shining hair framing his face and neck like an elegant piece of lace over a brides face. He has a sleeve of tattoos on one forearm, a thick tattoo on his neck. Eyes glowing a deep, blood red, as he tries to read your entire story with only a look in your direction.

The giggling one is less intimidating, only by a hair. Chemically lightened locks pushed back messily, letting his entrancing features shine in the light from the narrow windows high on the walls. He has tattoos as well, but they seem few and far between. His eyes are human for a moment before they meet yours. Instantaneously, they flick black.

The knot drops from your throat and you let out a small, pathetic, squeak.

Changbin breaks your staring contest with the alpha, shouting orders at them. "Take the sheets off your cot and set them outside of your cage. Do not attempt to touch her, I will shoot you."

    Neither criminal makes a move to follow his orders, both simply staring at you.

A low growl is emitted when the older alpha finally snaps up, tearing the sheet off the sorry excuse for a bed in one fell swoop. The younger follows his lead, shoving their sheets through the bars that are wrapped in the poisonous flower.

You look to the guard, and he nods, "go." With his finger twitching at the gun ready to pull it, you jump over the dark red ashes and into the wolves den, snatching the sheets up as quick as possible and dashing away, out the door before they even get a chance to lock in your scent up close.

The giggles follow you all the way to the elevator and ring in your head even as the thick metal thunks shut.

As you take a deep breath, you notice the sheets are gripped to your chest, your claws drawn subconsciously in your panic and ripping them up. "Shit!" You let out a curse and shove them into the bottom of the basket so you don't have to smell it as closely on the long ride to the basement.

˚➶ ｡˚

The lingering wafts of your fresh scent are long gone, nothing to distract the alpha's from their caged boredom and bubbling rage over being caught. "I'll have that runts heart in my hands by the end of the month." Hongjoong groaned, to no one in particular- he knew Seonghwa was too deep in thought from their recent revelations. "Fucking back stabbers. They're more pathetic than a bitch in heat trying to get off with a dildo."

The thought hit his mind as soon as the words left his lips.

The thought of you, legs spread with your hand dipped low, trying to satisfy your primal urges and-

"Stop that." Seonghwa growls, kicking the bars of their shared 'wall'.

"Settle down!"

"Oh, like you weren't thinking it!" Hongjoong rolls his eyes, a scowl on his face as he crosses his arms. "Your ruts coming and you don't want your-"

"I said stop," he nearly roars, grabbing Hongjoong's state issued orange top and ripping it with his claws as he pulls him forward.

"I know you want her because I want her too." He whispers, smirking at the telltale signs of desire and bloodlust in his mates eyes. Red swirling around the brown of his human eyes. "Imagine how good she'll smell when we take out that stupid blocker. We'll be drowning in her scent." He moans, grabbing his wrist, "I get the honors, my claws are sharper, anyways," he draws them quickly, digging them into his skin as if to prove a point.

"I can use my teeth, mark h-"

"Oh, will you two stop? Love of God..." The guard in the large room slaps his book down on the rickety table. "What is there possibly for you to be fighting about? You're about to be executed, you know that right? No jury in the world will let you walk, especially the human half."

Their frustrations turn to the man, letting each other go. "Ah, you think so?" The older croons, dragging his index over his bleeding wrist and bringing it to his lips, sucking it clean before he continues. "We won't be around these parts long enough to meet the jury."

"What do you mean by that?"

Hongjoong covers his mouth when a laugh slips past. Seonghwa simply smirks as he sits cross legged, eyes locked with the guard as he licks his wound.

"What do you mean by that?!"

The blonde man breaks out in a fit of laughter. The brunette simply flashes his bloody canines in a twisted smile.

˚➶ ｡˚

You spent the whole time doing your daily tasks trying to hype yourself up to go back up to the fifth floor.

You usually went top down, four to one. Nobody has ever been on five before.

You go bottom up today, starting at Chungha with a full basket of freshly washed sheets. She prattles on about her visit with Jiyun, and how she's so thankful for you.

You choose that as your focus point for the rest of the work day, even as you press the button to the fifth floor.

You think back to the first time you spoke to Chungha, she was a crying mess, unable to sense that you were an omega like herself. She cried and cried and cried as you held her hand through the bars of temporary holding. She cried for her daughter, for cursing her with the shame of being the weakest link of any pack. When she looked up and saw your eyes, barely glowing, she cried more.

She apologized profusely, but you reassured her that her words were true, and you hadn't been offended. You told her that, in fact, she was the first to ever share your feelings of what being an omega really meant. It meant loneliness beside anyone but other omegas. Fake relationships born with people who only stuck around because of their primal instincts to either prey on you or protect you. It meant facing the fact that you were outcasts from both of the world's dominant societies. Outcasted from humans for being a werewolf. Outcasted from werewolves for being weak. So weak, in fact, that blood ash didn't even think of you as a wolf.

That night, you drove four hours to the next village over and looked after her daughter until her aunt had room. You remember the first thing the girl said to you. She didn't speak that whole day, surely in shock from the past few days events. But when you tucked her into the motel bed, she spoke as soft as a ghost, "sing me a song?"

You hum it to yourself now, the soft sound reverberating through the metal around you until the door opened.

You wheel the basket with you this time, like it will protect you as you approach the open doors, already feeling the unwavering gaze of the criminals.

"Hey, dolly~" Hongjoong, you had learned when you took a peek into their files, purred your way.

You didn't give him the satisfaction of responding verbally, but he saw the goosebumps on your arm as you reached into the basket, stretching on your tip toes to get the last two sheets.

"You never shut up do you, Kim?" The guard sighed with an exhausted tone, making you smile as you slowly made your way to the ring of red dust.

The throaty rumble from Seonghwa, the older, taller wolf, makes that smile drop to the depths of Hell.

The new guard seems to notice your anxiety, eyeing you up- in a much less predatory manner than the caged men. "Go on, 'mega. I'm watching them."

A bang on the metal bars makes you glue your foot right back where it came from. It's the blonde one, "you shut the fuck up!"

"No, you shut the fuck up! I'm the one with the silver bullets!"

All of the yelling is making you tremble, Hongjoong and the guard going back and forth. "She isn't your omega!"

"She ain't yours!"

Seonghwa watches with a sinister smile as you back away from the ash and the guard, calling to you quietly, "hey."

The soft tone of his voice makes you raise your eyes, but not your head. His eyes don't hold that threatening and dominating red from before. They're a soft brown color that reminds you of a beautiful dark oak in the morning sunshine. "What's your name?"

"(Y/n)..." your tongue moves without your consent, fresh blankets held to your work scrubs.

You desperately want the guard to notice this trance you're in, and grab you out of it. You want to do it yourself, but you can't do anything but admire the beauty of the criminal who has you hypnotized.

"You're a pretty omega, y'know? What color is your wolf?"

"Black..." It's a slur off your lips, barely registering in his sharply tuned ears over the yelling that continues to fill the room.

"Mine too. What's her name? His is Akma."

"Solis."

"Very pretty. Is she fast?"

"Yes."

"Does she want an alpha? A mate?"

"Yes."

The guard finally notices your raised gaze, affixed to the infamous, unlawful, man. He puts his gun back in the holster quickly before gripping your shoulder and forcing you to turn around. "You idiot, didn't anyone ever tell you not to look a first born in the eyes?"

"Sorry. I'm sorry." No one had ever told you that, actually.

Both of the criminals share a smirk as the man from your pack attempts to calm you. It wasn't hard for them to figure out you were an alpha-less village. They could smell every single wolf in five miles, and not a single stench from a wolf even nearly as strong as them.

There was, however, you. A honeyed smell that filled their guts with the primal need to rip out the eyes of anyone who dared look at you.

The guard couldn't be more wrong. You are their omega. You just don't know yet.

"Go and give these fucks their sheets, then get the hell out of here." The man shoved you, making you jump clumsily over the ash so you didn't break the seal.

He yells at them to back up, and they do so without a fight.

You shove them both in at the same time before running back out quickly, grabbing the empty basket and dragging it with you, the sound of the wheels scraping with the force of your panic echoing in the near empty room.

"You guys get off on scaring defenseless girls?" The guard scoffs, not expecting an answer as he drags the chair out of the room and slams the doors behind him.

Seonghwa lets his facade fall the second the door shuts, falling to his knees and grappling at the sheet like he's a starving man with the last piece of food on Earth. Hongjoong watches for a moment in confusion until the scent catches up with his weaker nose. Then he's quickly falling in the same position.

"It worked, the guard was so easy to distract," Hongjoong chuckles, face buried into the sheet that smells vaguely like you from your time spent holding it. "What did you learn?"

"(Y/n), a black wolf named Solis," he pauses, eyes rolled back as he takes a deep breath. They're red when they re-open. "No mate. It's really her."

"You think we should have told her?" Hongjoong inquires, looking through the bars.

He's never seen Seonghwa on his knees for anyone but him or the moon.

"No," he shakes his head, turning to lock eyes with him. "She'll figure it out when I mark her."

"When I mark her."

He rolls his eyes at his defiant nature, knowing full well he won't disobey his orders no matter how badly he wants to do something.

In a dog eat dog world, the strongest was the most powerful. Unlike their human neighbors, werewolves don't decide political or social standing by money or family name. They decide based on who comes out on top in a battle of the body and of the wits.

It had been determined years ago, when they were just young rebellious pups, that Seonghwa was the alpha. A fight in the woods under the moon had set it in stone between the two.

He could have ripped Hongjoongs throat out right then and there, but now, 13 years later in the present; they're bonded for life.

Sometimes he still sees Hongjoong as that 12 year old boy under his teeth, still snapping and growling even as he bled out with tears in his dark eyes, fighting to survive purely out of spite.

"You can mark her first," Seonghwa speaks quickly, turning his back as he puts the sweet smelling sheet on his cot.

He smiles at the man, a quiet thanks spoken through their bonded souls.

˚➶ ｡˚

Tuesday, they don't see you until much later in the day, but they bask in the sight of you opening the door with a broom and tray in hand, smiling at Changbin. You'll be here for a while, it's a big room.

"Hey, Binnie," you whisper to the beta, and Seonghwa has to bite his tongue.

Binnie? Ugh.

Hongjoong isn't so polite, "hey, Dolly! We don't get a hello?" You barely peek at him, eyes flicked from him right back to the floor in a millisecond. He knows you noticed his pout when he hears the smallest 'hello' tremble by your lips.

You start in the corner, headphones attached to your walkman with your favorite song on repeat to try and soothe yourself. Bill Withers calming voice blocks out every word of the teasing alphas, but you can still feel them mocking you and picking at you.

You don't dare sweep anywhere near the blood ash on the floor. One less precaution in place was one more thing to worry about.

"Bye, Binnie."

He does growl that time, eyes narrowed on your back until the door shuts.

˚➶ ｡˚

Wednesday, you have a frown on your face. "Three days in a row?" The guard Hongjoong got in a yelling match with, Merle, greets you as you come into the cavernous room, "bad schedule huh?"

"No kidding," you sigh, feet slightly hesitant to pass the dust border, "I'm here to fix your shirt. It's state property." You don't look at them, but they know who you're referring to.

They act like they don't, though. Just to hear more of your voice. To make you wriggle under their attention. "Sorry? What do you mean?"

You look and point to Hongjoong, his collar ripped from Seonghwas grasp. "State property."

"Ah, of course." He grins like a jackal, pulling it over his head and sticking his hand out of the bars just in the slightest. "On one condition."

You pout, eyes on the shirt which is just far enough away that you'd have to step closer. And it's the cutest fucking thing they've ever seen.

You look back up at him, silently asking. "Sit and talk with us. The guards here are no fun!" His laugh makes you jump back further, he sounds like a mad pirate.

You look over to Merle, who just shrugs, "just get it over with so these guys will shut up. They're only talkative around you, they need an audience for their antics."

"We won't bite," Seonghwa chuckles with his teeth exposed, making you shiver.

"Fine, give it here." You take a single step forward, palm out infront of the blonde.

When you grab it and go to race away like always, his claws wrapping all the way around your wrist stops you, sharp edges threatening to slice your skin down to the bone. You scream your head off, silenced when Seonghwa coos softly, "sit with us, and talk."

"Let me go..." you plead, eyes frantically flicking to Merle, whose gun is drawn to Hongjoongs head from the border of the ash, waiting for him to take one more wrong move so he can rid the world of one of its greatest criminals.

"Sit, omega." You do so, slowly lowering to the floor with your wrist and life still in Hongjoongs hand. "You have your sewing kit with you, I can hear the buttons hitting the needle. So sit, stay, and talk while you fix it."

Once again, they're the ones caged in. But you're the one who's stuck.

     One look to Merle tells you he probably wouldn't help you even if he could get to you. He lowers his gun as your tailbone hits the concrete floor.

     Your thin work scrubs do little to fight the cold of the old flooring, one reason of many that you shake as you reach into your purse and get the small tin box.

     Hongjoong releases your wrist and sits mirrored to you, hands perched on the bars in the gaps of the purple vine flower wrapped on them. Seonghwa comes to the corner of his side of the split cage and breathes in deeply through his nose, eyes locked in on your every movement. "So you're essentially the errand lady? Maid?"

      "Yes..." You murmur under your breath as your fingers work to thread the needle, slowly backing away until you're out of reach, but still stuck in the blood ash with no one to rescue should the men infront of you decide to rip their cages open. You only stop backing away when you hear a warning growl.

     You don't care to see which it came from, you just want to do this as quickly as possible and get far, far, away. They could have chose anyone to focus their annoying efforts on. Changbin, Merle, the warden. But no, just your luck.

      "You live in the village, right? Were you born here?" Seonghwa continues to do the talking as you carefully fix the shirt.

      "Yes. And no."

     A small hum from the one in front of you is a sign they want you to continue. "I was born to an overpopulated pack. They kicked me out when I turned eighteen. Our old alpha took me in." The hitch in your voice is a clear sign that it's a sore topic. And Hongjoong continues to poke the wound.

      "How did they find you?"

       "Woods."

       "Woods?"

     You can't help the small growl of frustration, lip curling as you look up. "Woods."

     The reaction is one you wouldn't have expected from a normal person, but then- they aren't normal.

     They laugh, cooing over your gesture of anger. Compared to them, you seem like a teacup puppy. "My, my," the brunette chuckles breathily, "is that Solis coming to play?"

     "At least she can," you snap, sent to the back of your own head as your wolf tries to defend you, "she isn't a caged mutt."

    Hongjoong breaks out into a manic fit of laughter, while his paramour is the opposite: his eyes flick red before your own, sharp teeth on display in a show of dominance over your smaller ones that are subconsciously bared at him. "Watch it, omega." He spits his words with venom, "I won't be so nice when I get out of here."

     You rip the extra thread with your claw, kicking the shirt across the floor so it sits at the bottom bar of Hongjoongs cage. His chest still wracks with laughter, watching as you sit up in a low squat so you're still level with the alpha.

      It's clear that you aren't currently you. Your wolf has control of your mouth and body, crouched in a position akin to that of a dog ready to pounce as you hiss your words, "I'm going to laugh in your face as you hang."

     "Aw, is that how dear old alpha died?"

     "Cut it out!" Merle screams disinterested, eyes glued to his flimsy magazine.

      "I heard he got gutted~" Hongjoong giggles, watching the color flicking in your eyes.

     "I'll gut you!" Your threat only makes him laugh more.

      "(Y/n)!" The voice of Hylyon breaks your wolf away from you immediately, falling to your bottom and crawling to the sound unwittingly. "You fucking idiot, Merle!" 

     She reaches over the blood ash and pulls you over the ring, letting you collapse into her as she drags you away, still throwing profanities at the incompetent guard. Hongjoong is laughing loudly. Seonghwa yelling at you to come back. The elevator cuts of his roar, the last thing you see through your blurry vision is his fist making a dent in the silver cage.

You fall onto the floor of the metal box. Thoughts flood your head too quickly for you to swim though them, making you drown and try to escape by releasing the pain with tears. You don't even notice when your friend turns her key in the elevator to make it stop in its tracks, you only see her when she sits right infront of you.

"Babes, calm down, I've got you," she reaches out slowly and places a hand on your leg, slowly rubbing her thumb over your knee.

"I can't go back up there... they're too strong, they make me feel like I'm suffocating," you splutter through gasps, "I'm too weak!"

"Hey, hey, you're spiraling!" She opens her arms and pulls you into her, letting you sob into her uniform. "In and out, girl," she holds the back of your neck securely, almost instantaneously making you calm. "I got you... I got you..."

You sit there for a good while, crying into her shoulder as you sort through your wracked brains.

Your alpha was gutted. Right in front of you. Because of you.

Unbeknownst to you, their tuned ears are still listening in, the elevator stuck within their ear shot as you begin mumbling your favorite song to yourself through tears.

˚➶ ｡˚

The sound of claws slicing through the skin on your back rings in your ears. Though, you can't feel it. Your eyes are locked in on your own claws, dug into the hardwood floor of your humble home to keep yourself from being dragged.

     You've been here a million times before.

     Blood pooling off of your body and onto the frigid surface below you. Teeth sharp and bared to the moon though the open window, begging that she might let you survive. Eyes aglow with your instincts as your wolf tries with every fiber of her being to turn, but she knows it's no use.

     The distorted voice above you drips with mocking venom, a chuckle as its owner realizes you can't even fight back like other wolves might: by letting your wolf fully transform.

     The wind blows through your curtains, washes your body in the artic breeze. The snowflakes on your windowsill are so delicate, all of their features fade into a blurry mush as they make contact. They melt, dripping down your wall.

     This time it's different.

      You're turned over, gaping wounds slammed into the floor as always, but when you look up to your aggressor it's different.

      His eyes aren't the yellow of a rouge, but the red of an alpha. His hair isn't that unruly blonde curl that you pulled at frantically, that you can still feel on your finger tips when your hands are unoccupied. It's long, shining, soft looking dark locks.

       You fall through the floor into another time, another place.

     Face first into the snow: your hands, shaking with adrenaline, do little to catch you.

       You don't remember this.

       This isn't right.

       This isn't your nightmare.

       You find yourself in a clearing in a forrest, the densely packed trees creating a bubble of nature around you. "(Y/n)?"

      You whip around, coming face to face with an unfamiliar man. Almost face to face. If he weren't floating a few feet in the air.

     His legs are crossed under him, hands facing palms up on his knees.

      "Don't worry. You're only dreaming." He speaks calmly as he floats around you in a circle, like a shark examining its potential prey.

     You follow him with your feral gaze, that familiar feeling of an adrenaline crash quickly approaching.

You know you're only dreaming. You've had that last dream more times than you can count in the past three years. It always plays the same. But not this time. You're only slightly thankful that you don't have to witness your alphas death again, but the gratefulness is overshadowed by confusion.

"Are you an angel?" You whisper, watching the man's soft and rounded features as he comes to a stop in the air in front of you and gracefully lowers to his feet.

"I can be, if that's what you want me to be. I'm only here to watch your dreams, fight off the nightmares."

"Why?" You feel distant from your body, watching powerlessly as your hand takes his, letting him lead you out of the clearing and into the darkness of the woods.

It disappears around you, warping into a spring day on a familiar path.

"A favor for a friend."

With the snow gone, you're in your spot, your old towel on the dewy grass with a book laid atop of it and the soil beneath your feet as you approach.

"Enjoy."

The hand vanishes from your own, leaving you alone on the side of the path. You look for him. But he's just an eidolon, watching you from the sky where you can't see him.

You warily take a seat and pick up the book.

˚➶ ｡˚

They don't see you again through the week. And when the next Monday comes by, their sheets are removed while they're in the showers.

Hongjoong sighs from his place on the floor, for the tenth time in the past half hour.

"Hong-"

"I miss our omega!" He whines, cutting him off.

Seonghwa stands from his cot, slowly lowering to the floor next to their shared bars. He lays flat on his back, mirroring Hongjoong as he tilts his head to look at him. "Soon." Is the only word he utters.

He reaches through the silver bars, ignoring the sting as the fresh wolfsbane brushes his wrist, and takes his hand.

The both of them look up at the ceiling through the bars of their enclosure.

Your scent is long gone from the room, and their noses can barely pick up on it through the rest of the village and prison.

"I want out of here," Hongjoong whispers, so lowly that the guard can't hear him from outside of the door, "when are they coming? Your bond with them is stronger, I can barely feel them..."

"Soon." He repeats, "very soon, Joong."

˚➶ ｡˚

Tuesday you manage to talk your coworker into sweeping the top floor, and you rejoice in the freedom of not being under the alpha's gazes. You've worked out a good schedule to completely avoid seeing them, and it's made your job feel like it's back to normal.

You can still smell their power wafting through the AC, but it's bearable. You distract yourself in your free time by making excuses to be on the second floor with Chungha and the other omegas.

Today, that excuse is 'omegas need physical outlets too', and the warden let you bring up buckets and brushes so you could all scrub the base boards.

"Oh, I've got one!" The omega to your left speaks, lifting his brush in the air in a eureka moment, "Texas Chainsaw Massacre or... Halloween?"

Chungha scoffs with a smile as she scrubs away to your right, "are we including sequels? There's like a billion!"

"No, stand alone original," Beomhan goes back to scrubbing as he continues, "both of them are classics but which one is a better classic?"

"Halloween is the classic slasher, Texas Chainsaw is like psychological horror," you chime in as you dip your brush into the bucket, sitting on your calves as you take a breather. "I think it's not fair to compare them... but Texas Chainsaw, definitely."

They laugh along with you, and Chungha shakes her head, "Halloween has more rewatchablity. You don't want to see Sally go through that more than once, but Laurie Strode fights harder and it's more like, yeah I'll watch her kick ass again."

"Cinematography in both is so beaut-"

The lights above you flicker before they shut down completely. People start muttering their concerns, quite a few of them looking your way. "Don't worry!" You hop up and get your keys from your pocket as you make your way to the locked stairwell. "I'll go and see what's going on, keep scrub-"

A loud siren echoes in the brick walls, shocking you all to cover your ears.

Everyone looks to you for answers, and you don't have any as your brain starts throwing theory after theory at you.

"It's okay, go back to your cells! Shut them behind you!"

They listened, however grumpy about it. The cell doors locked automatically when they were closed.

"Hey, what's going on?" Chungha asked over the clanging of the cell doors. The two of you, along with Beomhan, were the only ones left after a moment.

"Go back to your cell, Beomhan, hurry."

"No, what's happening?"

     The sirens cut off and leave you in a pregnant pause for a moment as you simply try to calm yourself.

A deafening scream ricochets through the air vent next to you, scaring you into their arms as you all stare at it.

Usually, the air flow covered the echoes throughout the floors. But with no power, you could hear everything- albeit muffled.

Yells and shouts. Gunshots. Growls. Unidentifiable chaos. And above all, your ears tuned in on a rumbling, calm voice through it all.

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... It's not warm when she's away..."

Your eyes widen as theres a bang at the stairwell door. "Go, go!" You grab each of their wrists, dragging them into Chungha's cell. You slam it behind you and let down the sheet she has over it, backing away and staring at it as you hear the door hit the wall behind it with the force it's slammed open.

"(Y/n), what the hells happening?!"

     You slap your hand over his mouth and bring a finger to your lips. The other omegas on the floor are all making a ruckus, and you can only hope that it will confuse that unfortunately familiar voice so he can't find you.

˚➶ ｡˚

The beta in the large room ignores Hongjoong as he continuously asks after 'the pretty omega'.

He just sweeps and sweeps, finally understanding why you hate coming up here. He has his back turned to the cage, and consequently, to the windows.

High on the tall walls, the narrow glass is opened from the outside. Seonghwa smirks, and gestures his head to it. Hongjoongs gaze follows, and he has to slap a hand over his mouth so he doesn't laugh.

A skinny figure is sliding its way in through the window sideways.

He drops to the floor as silent as a mouse, landing on his knees and grinning wildly up at his alphas.

Hongjoong throws his head back in preemptive relief, while Seonghwa is watching with a similarly wide smile as the man walks straight through the blood ash, breaking the circle with the tip of his shoe.

The worker still has his back turned as the lock on Seonghwas cage is picked with a long claw. He doesn't even know what's happening as the next thing he knows, he's thrown across the floor.

      Blood ash knocks up around him, coughs wracking his body as he looks up to his assailant.

      Park Seonghwa, newly freed from his cage, looks down at the worker with his eyes glowing red.

     "Now usually..." He begins, crouching to be face to face with him, "I'd go through this whole place just for the fuck of it and cause some beautiful chaos. But I'm looking for someone."

     "(Y/n)?" He stutters out, backing away only to knock into Hongjoongs legs. Stuck between the two criminals, he chooses his own head over yours. "The second floor! Sh-she's on the second floor!"

     "Let's go get our omega, Joong."

      Nonchalantly, Hongjoong draws his claws and slices the neck of the worker. He hops over the gurgling body and follows his mate with an ecstatic giggle.

      He wraps his arm around the skinny man's shoulder, "Wooyoung! Our savior~" He ruffles his hair and laughs as he groans.

     "You guys know I've got your back. Seonghwa told me about your new omega, you seem excited," he mimics the alphas smile as the eldest of the trio opens the doors.

     The guard on duty, who happens to be Merle, looks back with wide eyes.

"Yes, oh yes!" His eyes roll to the back of his head, touching the stitches you made on his shirt. "Oh, you'll love her, she's a feisty omega just like you."

He makes a run for the fire alarm at the end of the hall, but Seonghwa is faster. The beta is tackled to the floor.

"I'm glad you both will have a buffer, tired of you always at each other's throats during ruts," Wooyoung laughs, looking down at the guard as they pass.

Seonghwa had simply torn out his throat with his bare hand and made his way to the elevator, holding it open with an impatient glare.

The door closes behind them and the only sound is Seonghwa's heavy breathing.

"You're real eager, huh?" The omega breaks the silence, "San should be coming in any second to block the main door. No one will get past him. The rest are in the village, just as we planned."

"Good, she'll need somewhere to rest before we take off....Fucking idiots, thinking they can cage us." He groans, eyes flicking to the number above the doors as it dings.

       3? "Fuck."

     The door opens and the woman on the other side takes a moment, nearly walking in before she notices the crimson liquid dripping from Segonhwa's hand.

      She makes it halfway through the hall before Hongjoong pounces on her, fighting her effortlessly as if she's a rag doll. The guards run to try and save her, but it's too late for the unfortunate woman, and they just signed their own death certificate as well.

       Seonghwa and Wooyoung make quick work of them, but their plan is already foiled as the lights flicker to a halt and leave them bathed in dim light of the setting sun in the few windows.

      The alphas fall to their knees as their sensitive ears are bombarded with a loud, incessant siren.

      "Wooyoung!" Hongjoong screams over it, "go turn that shit off!"

      He nods, taking the keys off a mauled guard and dashing to the stair well, leaving it unlocked behind him.

     Hongjoong crawls to Seonghwa, collapsing into his chest with his teeth clenched and palms over his ears. His ears were always more sensitive.

     His partner places his hands over his, thumb running over his own. He looks down with his eyes glowing red, meeting pure black.

He leans and kisses him deeply, all teeth and bloodlust, trying to merge their souls until the sirens cuts off.

Their foreheads rest together, ignoring the chaos of the beta's around them yelling to be released.

"Are you ready?" Seonghwa whispers, gathering another set of keys from the fallen workers. He throws it to one of the locked in prisoners, a smirk on his face. So much for not creating chaos.

"Let's go," Hongjoong holds the door to the staircase open and lets him go first with a dramatic bow.

It takes one scream to start the havoc. The entire prison is filled with the sickly sweet sounds of caged animals with a taste of freedom. Gunfire and howls bring a smile to Seonghwa's lips as he sings out,

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone... it's not warm when she's away..."

He hums the song with a wide grin as Hongjoong kicks the door. It takes only one more kick before it slams open and bangs against the cement wall.

The omegas in their cells are all yelling at them, at one another, in general.

Hongjoong kicks one of the many buckets on the floor over and groans, "here I was thinking she'd make it easy. I guess we'll have to go cell to cell!" A small spike of a heartbeat in his ears makes him smirk, following the sound that he memorized the first time he'd heard it.

Seonghwa follows him, immediately zeroing in on the same cell. He comes to stand infront of it, his breath making the blanket behind the bars sway slightly.

You see both pairs of orange slip on shoes and you feel your heart stop in your chest.

You cower further into the corner with Beomhan as Chungha stands in front of you. The sheet is grabbed from the outside and ripped away, making you all shriek.

"Were you playing hide and seek?" Hongjoong giggles, throwing the blanket to the side with his eyes never leaving you, a scowl growing on his features as he notices the way you're curling into another wolf. "You should know better than to hide from your alphas. Come on out."

You shake your head, gaze lowered as you hold onto the back of Chungha's uniform.

"(Y/n)," the saturnine man speaks, "come here."

"No, leave us alone! Leave me alone," your voice cracks despite how strong you want to appear.

"If I have to drag you out of here I will be very angry. Just come on, do us all a solid."

"No-"

"Open the fucking door!"

"No!"

The cells were built to hold lycans, which means lycans shouldn't be able to get in... right?

"Fucking-" Seonghwa hits the bars, leaving a dent and making the three of you jump.

Hongjoong leans on his tiptoes and whispers into his ear, and whatever he says makes his eyes begin glowing a murderous red.

He slowly wraps his clawed fingers around the bars, and the way Hongjoong backs up makes your stomach churn in anxiety of what's about to come.

And it was warranted anxiety.

With a loud growl and a single tug, he rips the silver bars from their cemented place in the wall, causing a large crack to form.

"Holy shit!" Beomhan screams, arms wrapping around you tightly.

Chungha is ripped from the small room and tossed all the way across the room, back colliding with the wall and leaving her unconscious.

You yelp as Beomhan meets a similar fate, torn from your grasp and out into the rec room like he's a mere bag of trash. You see Hongjoong approaching him with his long black claws out and proud, but your vision is blocked by the large alpha infront of you.

     Your hips back into Chungha's small desk, and your hands clamber around, landing on something small and solid.

     You swing it at his head and he ducks, grabbing your wrist and dragging you out of the small cell. You manage to swing again, making contact with his head. The small ceramic bowl shatters into pieces and leaves him only temporarily stunned, glaring down at you.

      "Fucking stop," he growls quietly, shoving you to the floor.

       He lets you shuffle away, only because Hongjoong is right behind you.

     The blonde chuckles, pulling you back up by your collar and crashing you face first into one of the round steel tables bolted into the floor. "Ow!" You yell out as your head makes contact, fighting against him with all your might, but it's fruitless.

     He kicks your feet apart and stands between them, leaning his chest over your back. You can feel his nose against your neck, over the healed skin above your scent blocker. You snap your eyes shut and do the only thing you can thing of.

     You can't fight. Begging to these men would be useless. You can't disappear into the floor like you wish you could.

     "Please, Selene," you pray to the moon, tears slipping past your shut eyes as you feel the claws of the mad man on your neck.

       You cry out as the other worldly sharp nails slice into your neck, slowly and almost surgically. His other hand is cupped on the back of your head, keeping your head pushed into the cold metal. "Shhhh," he gushes above you, "it's okay."

      Seonghwa sits at one of the bolted stools and rests his head to mimic yours, cheek on the table. "We'd've been more gentle if you listened, omega."

       Between the tips of his claws, Hongjoong holds your small alloy scent blocker. Almost instantaneously, your natural scent floods their senses.

     Their deep rumbles of pleasure make you snap your eyes back shut, missing the way Hongjoong stomps on the device.

     "Fuck," the wolf behind you curses, body pressed close to yours like he wants to fuse together, he places his hands in yours and tells you, "you might want to squeeze."

    "Wh- ah!" Your scream echoes over all of the other chaos as his teeth sink into your left shoulder, and you do just that. Your clawed hands squeeze around his, sharp nails knocking together as you hold on like his hands are the only thing keeping you from slipping to the underworld.

       It feels like a million pins and needles washing over you, leaving you paralyzed in place as he purrs into the wound, making your bones vibrate.

     A warm, comforting hand on your cheek makes you force your eyes open. Seonghwa smiles sweetly, like he isn't witnessing one of the biggest crimes in the lycan community.

      Forcing someone to be your mate for the rest of your mortal lives.

     "Breathe, omega," his words make you realize you're holding your breath, and you let it out as a sob. "That's it," he hums, rubbing his hand down your head with all the gentleness he's capable of.

        Hongjoong pulls away with a moan, resting his head between your shoulder blades as he catches his breath.

     Your wolf is already calling for her mate, howling in the back of your mind as you cry.

       "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you." Seonghwas words have little time to register in your adrenaline filled head as he turns your head the other way and climbs up on the table.

     It hits you when he moves your ruffled shirt away from your right shoulder. "No! No!" You find yourself with two million pins and needles in your body now, squeezing Hongjoongs hands all over again as Seonghwa sinks his teeth into you at an excruciatingly slow pace.

They're bigger, or maybe they only feel that way because your body is on fire. You sob freely, feet stomping pathetically to cope with the pain.

What little comfort you find in Hongjoong squeezing your hands back is washed away by the simple fact that it's him. That blood from his claws drips onto your skin.

It feels like a century later that the older alpha finally pulls away, a bellow of pleasure as he runs his thumb over the wound: making you jump.

"Your turn, omega."

The weight of their bodies is gone, but you can't bring yourself to move. Out of fear, maybe. Pain, perhaps.

"You know what happens to wolves who don't finish the bond." Hongjoong purrs teasingly, knowing full well that you will have to mark them back least you want to suffer at the hands of the moon herself.

A life with them was better than being turned inside out and left to the elements. Just barely.

You lift yourself on shaking arms and nearly fall as you turn. You would have if not for Hongjoong catching you. He lifts you back to the table much gentler, letting your legs dangle as you sit on the table top.

"Why... why me?"

"... Have you heard of Harry Talbot?"

"Harry Talbots a myth... what's he got to do with your fuck shit?"

"Harry Talbot was the first wolf that could smell his mate. He could tell just by her smell, they were meant to be." Hongjoong slots his way between your legs, smiling down at you with his bloody teeth, "her smell called to him. It wasn't just good. It wasn't a normal scent. It was...alluring."

You were growing dizzy, head spinning.

"Strong alphas can sniff out their true mate. And, baby, we're the strongest that there is."

You have to force yourself to swallow. Have to remember to breathe.

"Why? Because you're... alluring."

That's the last thing you can register before your world turns dark.

˚➶ ｡˚ PART ONE END ˚➶ ｡˚

[miraculan-draws]

Ok so. You aren't gonna get Activism Bonus Points as a knight in shining armor for condemning the intersection of horror/and romance. People did it with Hannibal, Interview, Killing Eve, you can go as far back as Wuthering Heights and see the same shallow and lukewarm takes. Which is what Gothic Romance is—its horror and romance. It's not like. An aesthetic. It's not Romance but with black lace. Decrying it with every new story doesn't make you look righteous. it makes you look illiterate.

We have BEEN discussing. The psychology behind this sort of romance since FOREVER. Women and queer men (really the whole queer umbrella) are known to gravitate towards these kinds of love stories because culturally and historically that desire is "something to be ashamed of." So how do you justify wanting, when your kind of wanting is condemning? Worth shunning? A secret?

Take YOUR want out of the equation. Make the story about someone wanting YOU so badly that they don't take no for an answer, a "no/never/I won't give in to you" that can be given for propriety's sake as a verbal alibi. But it takes agency to toss ASIDE ones agency in the first place.

It's the same people clutching their pearls about pulp monster stories. With "bodice ripper" stories. (Same basic principle behind CNC in kink spaces honestly) And REALLY it's fitting that the centennial reproduction of Nosferatu is what started it back up because above ALL OF THESE—is the mack daddy of them all, vampire literature.

There is a line in Nosferatu 2024: "I am an appetite. Nothing more." And it took my breath away because THAT'S WHAT IT'S ALL ABOUT BABY. Vampire stories are never JUST a creature feature. They are never face value. They represent something, and it's mercurial—I believe Rolin Jones referred to vampires as "a dark mirror" to human wants and appetites, and how if you repress something hard enough it'll always rot and turn ugly and cruel.

"I am an appetite." You can read between the lines better when you're not shaking your head no for the imaginary social media jury.

And if this is something you routinely cannot catch on to, can't relate to, makes you uncomfortable beyond what you can tolerate, then there's no shame in just avoiding the genre altogether. (Fantasy/Adventure with romance as a side plot will probably be closer to something for you. Even Dark Fantasy will probably scratch the itch if you keep finding yourself starting and quitting gothic romances)

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

One user asked me if the reason for the “push back” against Robert Eggers intention in his 2024 “Nosferatu” adaptation (especially Ellen Hutter relationship with Count Orlok) is because 1922 Ellen Hutter is meant to be a pure-hearted and virtuous woman, like her book counterpart Mina Harker from “Dracula” (a model of purity and modesty of the Victorian woman), and I decided to write a post about this.

I think many are missing Eggers intention with this film for several reasons:

1) Going Mainstream

First, this film is being a success at the box office, and while that’s amazing because I want more films like this getting made, this also means many who aren’t the “target audience” are seeing it, and completely missing the mark because they aren’t familiar with the Gothic Horror or Gothic Romance genre. Nor with Robert Eggers work.

Not liking this film is completely valid, not every piece of media and art is meant for us. Great, move on.

And there’s nothing wrong with folks not being familiar with the Gothic genre if they are interested in learning and understanding it. The problem is when people are hellbent in misunderstanding it and stuck on their own narrow views to the point they sound brainwashed, without an ounce of critical thinking and behave like a hivemind: “if many are saying this is probably true” type of thinking. And we are in the “social media era” where everyone thinks their own opinions are valid, so there’s that too.

Also I would add many are probably used to the “Marvel formula” of “over exposition”: having the entire story spelled out on screen instead of classic storytelling with an actual build-up and narrative devices (foreshadowing, red herrings, Chekhov's Gun, etc.). This causes misunderstanding, as well, because folks used to this type of storytelling won’t understand what they are seeing because they are used to be fed everything (“exposition”) and taking everything literally. This is also a film that requires analysis; this is clearly for the “film buffs” because Eggers wants to become a “cult director” too.

Eggers probably knew this was going to happen and he probably doesn’t care either. As Von Franz so interestingly says in the film: “Neque mittatis margaritas vestra ante porcos!” And ancient Latin saying which means “Nor cast your pearls before swine!”

Directors with strict artistic views (like Eggers) rarely care if the audience understands it or not. “The VVitch” was a feminist success when it was released in 2015, apparently now some are saying it’s problematic, because “oh my God, the Devil is a deceiver! Who knew???”. “The VVitch” and this version of “Nosferatu” are also pretty much the same story with a different framing.

2) Lack of Knowledge concerning the story and the time period

Many don’t seem to know that “Nosferatu” and “Dracula” are the same thing. Count Orlok is Count Dracula.

This story takes places in the Victorian era, and Eggers transports his audience to the time period his films are set in. Which means, we can’t look at this story through contemporary lenses, nor with our current sensibilities because that’s missing the point of Eggers work.

This movie deals with female sexuality, especially its repression and containment, which was the case in the Victorian era. Women weren’t supposed to be sexual, at all. If women displayed sexuality they were considered “hysterics” and could be institutionalized by their fathers and husbands (which is what happened to 2024 Ellen, as she tells Von Franz). Really, women could be institutionalized just by talking back to her husbands in this time period. And even within marriage, female sexuality should be modest and restrained, women weren’t suppose to know sexual pleasure, and it’s the husband who took the lead, always.

Men could sleep with whoever they wanted and even go to brothels every night, but this wasn’t the case for “decent Christian women”, at all. Sex for women in the Victorian era was supposed to be a painful task they had to go through to have children. There was even the famous saying “think of England” when wives were having sex with their husbands (“think of England” as in “think of something nice” other than what’s happening).

Ellen having astral sex with Orlok and getting pleasure from it was highly scandalous for this time period. Of course this a freaking horror movie and he’s a demon, but if they were actual people, doing this, unmarried, in the Victorian era, this would be a scandal and she would be ruined socially. Which is kind of what happens, and why the whole thing causes her great shame and guilt. It has nothing to do with “abuse” or “grooming” or whatever.

And, I don’t know why many are saying this happened during Ellen’s childhood? Because what she had since childhood are her supernatural abilities, as she tells Von Franz: she knew what her Christmas presents were before opening them and had a premonition of her mother’s death. She wasn’t talking about getting that demonic D, that was during her teenage years as a metaphor for her sexual awakening/puberty. Obviously.

3) Confirmation Bias

While seeing this movie without any previous knowledge (like “Nosferatu” = “Dracula”; or the historical context where this story takes place) the opposite is also true.

I think this is more true for fans of the previous adaptations of “Nosferatu”. They are misunderstanding the story Eggers is telling in his own adaptation because their perception is shaped by the 1922 film (mostly) and the 1979. And so, they will interpret what they are seeing as a “rehash” of the previous story (which isn’t the case here, this is an entirely different story).

And so, they see 2024 Ellen as the pure-hearted and virginal 1922 Ellen who selflessly sacrifices herself to save everyone, even though that’s not the story Eggers is telling and the script contradicts this. Eggers added plots that aren’t a a part of previous adaptations (Orlok and Ellen psychosexual connection; their covenant; occult meaning) and Ellen character being completely different from the 1922 and 1979 films (she’s a antithesis to them).

And how on earth someone sees these three adaptations (1922, 1979 and 2024) and thinks they are equal and this “sacrifice” has the same meaning is beyond me, honestly.

4) The “Sexy Vampire” Trope

Last but not least, we have to talk about the “Twilight”, “Vampire Diaries”, “True Blood”, etc. generation. Some probably heard “vampire” and “Bill Skarsgård” alongside with “obsession” and a female character involved, and were probably expecting something like this:

(That’s 2024 Count Orlok beneath the prosthetics, when he played another vampire)

Eggers truly catfished his audience into watching this film by not revealing how is his Orlok truly looked like. They did warn us Bill was covered in prosthetics and completely unrecognizable, but that flew over some people’s heads?

Personally, I loved the historical and folklore accurate Orlok Eggers created, but, indeed, many didn’t felt the same. I’m still hearing folks complaining about the freaking mustache when Gary Oldman as Dracula, in “Bram Stoker’s Dracula” (1992) also had one, but yeah, he was hot when he was with Mina (not his usual monstrous self, we also see in that movie) so the problem isn’t the mustache is it?

Of course not, it’s because he’s a freaking rotten corpse and he won’t make the list of the “sexiest vampires ever” in cinematic history. Because that’s not what Eggers was going for. We are suppose to see Orlok was handsome in life, but he’s still a walking corpse, because, shocker, that’s what vampires are.

And Eggers is forcing the audience to confront their own bias with all the necrophilia going on in this film: “you like vampire love stories? This is what you actually like.” Many didn’t like to be confronted with that. Which probably has Eggers laughing diabolically because that was his intention, which is why he brings “Twilight” in his interviews.

And then we have the magnificent love triangle “Twilight” style, too; Ellen is Bella, Thomas is Jacob and Orlok is freaking Edward Cullen. Someone said Eggers has balls of steel, and he truly does. And it’s actually amazing he didn’t cast Robert Pattinson in Count Orlok role (they already worked together in “The Lighthouse“, 2019). But Bill Skarsgård’s imposing height and previous cinematic experience (Pennywise in “It”) was probably more in line with what he wanted, and he absolutely nailed this role.

Although we could still see Bill’s face as Pennywise in “It” (beneath all that make-up), which isn’t the case as his Count Orlok, as he’s in full prosthetics.

This also means many will latch on to the “hot guy” in this demonic love triangle: Thomas, played masterfully by Nicholas Hoult.

Many didn’t see any love story between Ellen and Orlok because they were also expecting a Disney fairytale in a freaking horror film about demons and walking corpses, but I would argue that’s not Eggers fault nor an execution flaw. Ellen and Orlok are a demonic love story, they aren’t suppose to be rainbows and unicorns. Duh? Although, yeah, if the audience could actually see Bill Skarsgård, I have no doubt more would recognize this wicked/evil love story going between these two characters.

[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]

[asraxfile]

𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖕𝖚𝖑𝖘𝖊

𝖘𝖞𝖕𝖓𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖘 once you discover a bloodsucking history of the gothic castle in your town, you and Karina seem to get closer for odd reasons. 𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 vampire! Karina x fem!mortal!reader 𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊 fluff, dark themed?? 𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 cursing, suggestive?? kissing, slight yandere, compliments and slightly protective Karina, blood, gore 𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 3.5k

“Okay class, settle down and get your books out.” the new history teacher exclaimed as he tapped on his table, repeatedly trying to calm the talking of your classmates. As everyone obeyed and took their time to take out their history textbooks and notebooks.

Since your designated seat was next to a window, you gladly gazed outside whenever the lesson got boring—most of the time. Outside was a sight you always found interesting. An abandoned castle on the highest hill of the town.

A tall, dark gothic castle with large gates, 3 times bigger than an average human and larger than most cathedrals. One of the bigger towers was so high the top wasn’t even seen from the clouds. It was a magnificent castle.

Something about it was really weird, like it carries a secret nobody explored yet. An uncovered secret or perhaps—a mystery?

“In today's lesson we will talk about the great war that happened in our town many centuries ago.” the teacher announced. Showing the presentation on the projector.

Your gaze lingered around the room, but it stayed on one particular pupil that sat right on the other side of the classroom where sun never hit the corners— Yu Jimin.

You thought of her the same way as the gothic castle. Mysterious and tempting—as if something was pulling you towards her. There was always something off with her vibe. She was always so pale and nobody ever saw her eat anything from the school food. Or the fact that she never comes to school on really sunny days except when it’s cloudy or rainy.

The most fascinating thing about her were her utterly sharp teeth. When she smiled at the joke some of her friends made, her smile was the most genuine but also the most terrifying sight to see. And her eyes, they were brown—no, are you seeing a slight burgundy color in them? hazel? furrowing your eyebrows you gazed at Karina like she was the world’s miracle.

What color were her eyes again? you asked yourself before turning back to the teacher.

“...towards the eastern part of the town. Does anyone know what was also one of the most important ways our city protected itself during war?” the teacher asked, holding the dry chalk between his fingers.

Looking around, he sees a hand raised, the class nerd wanting to answer. “Anyone else?” he joked, but no one laughed. Therefore after some seconds he lets the nerd speak.

“The citizens captured the opposing soldiers and locked them up in the castle on that hill.” he showed outside the window. Everyone’s head turns to look outside as you widen your eyebrows. “Correct!” the professor jumped with his tone, walking around the classroom.

“Because of our ancestors, they believed in many folklore legends all depending on the region of living.” He turns around towards the pupils in the middle, adding a legato in his tone.

“Your grandparents or parents probably already told you who our citizens in the east believed in, any ideas?” he asks once again. You’ve remembered the words of your grandma who told you stories about those creatures who walked upon our city, immortal and bloodsucking nature.

The nerd raises his hand once again, leaving the professor with no choice but to let him answer,

“They believed in vampires.”

The room fell quiet, it all made sense now.

“and so they thought if they locked the soldiers in that castle, vampires would kill them and save the town.” The sound of the professor's ramblings and yappings felt distant.

Vampires. You didn’t wanna jump into conclusions so rushingly. Firstly, you will have to explore what there is to find out.

But those words never felt so right when describing her. Like a puzzle finding its piece, so light but right.

Later after classes you had a free period. Without further ado, you decided not to go home but to visit the school’s library— yearning for answers.

You asked the library lady to give you the book about folklore creatures and the history of the castle in the hills as you asked to extend the loan for another 3 weeks.

The books were heavy but you could handle it. As you were leaving, without watching where you’re walking, suddenly you bumped into someone. A groan of shockness escaped your mouth as the books fell on the hard floor, directly making a loud noise.

“I-I’m sorry I didn’t see you–” before finishing, you look at the person you weren’t expecting to bump into. Yu Jimin.

Your mouth stood slightly opened, speechless you blinked at her presence. The light of the sunset peeked through the windows of school, but you two were in the corridor's shadow. “Don’t worry I didn’t see you either.” she politely said, kneeling down to help you pick up your books, only to stop upon seeing the titles of them.

“Were you also interested in today's history lesson?” With visibly curiosity in her eyes, she smirks at you as she stands up. Handing you the books, you thank her. “Yeah, those things are the only thing keeping my attention in class.” Karina chuckled at your comment as she started slowly walking with you towards the stairs.

“Do you think all those creatures exist? most people don’t believe in them.” Karina starts the conversation, oddly unusual if someone asked you, but you didn’t mind. You weren’t exactly friends with Karina, but you also weren’t enemies—she was just…there at some point in your life.

“Well, if you ask me, there’s nothing to believe or not about those things.” your words made Karina tilt her hair. The locks of her dark hair falling off her shoulder in such movement. Blinking a few times you thought of the right words to explain.

“I mean like they just exist, you don’t have to believe in it or not cause they’re just real.” you started to yap as Karina listened carefully. At times adding a comment or two at your statements.

As if she wanted to listen to you forever talk about your theories, as if she was as interested as you in folklore creatures or perhaps—knew something more than you about it?

Stopping with Karina in the school’s exit, the sun was already down. The cold January fog covered the streets, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ve always liked your clear mind,” Karina stammered out, giving you a loving smile.

You could’ve sworn you saw a spark within them. “But why are you so interested in the castle?” bluntly she asks, as if she had heard this story more than a million times.

With a swift move, you turn your direction towards the dark gothic castle that could be seen from a far away place. “The castle…” you mutter out before turning back to Karina. “I know it’s a place to be explored, and I’ll find out why.” bravely you exclaimed, making her chuckle once again.

Karina whispered something out but you didn’t exactly hear what she said under her breath. “What was that?” you ask, leaning an inch closer to her. “Oh nothing,” she flinches in her trance, “I zoned out for a moment.” silence fills the air between the two.

Karina smiled at you yet again, and you awkwardly returned it. “Well, Y/n, it was nice talking to you.” she thanked you before leaving in a different direction. “I’ll see you tomorrow in school.” not leaving you a second to answer her.

She was definitely hiding something—you thought as you stared at her walking figure, the fog slowly covering her presence.

Next day in school the air was thicker than usual. The wind blew stronger and the clouds were slightly gray, but it didn’t look like it was going to rain soon. You sat still in your seat, next to the large window. Your hands roamed the old paper of the borrowed book.

Your eyes traced along the chapter list, hoping to find something about vampires during that time when suddenly someone barges its arm on the table right above the large book. You flinched at the sudden movement and looked up at the person and when you recognized who it was—your stomach flipped.

“Goshh Y/n you’re so old fashioned,” The blondie called out, her being one of the top people who made your life a little harder to deal with—Taeha.

Immediately, like lightning striking a tree, you pierced with anger through Taeha’s eyes and exhaled in disappointment. “Wait, is that…oh my god don't tell me you’re researching that fugly looking castle.” Taeha and her minions laughed like wild hyenas ready to eat a baby zebra.

Furrowing your eyebrows you wished nothing good upon her, she was truly a bitch. If only she could disappear forever, it would make most pupils ' lives better, you thought before snapping out. “Unlike you I actually wanna learn something other than picking my nose at someone else's business when bored.” The class erupted in shocking muffling, making the blond bully annoyed as she clicked her tongue. “Ugh, there you go at it again. I bet you don't even have anyone's business to poke into.” Continued Taeha.

With a slow move, she leans closer to you with a slight sarcastic face as she leans on her hands on the table. “You know, Y/n,” her voice became dead serious.

“It's honestly a miracle you even show up here every day. If I was you, I’d probably just throw myself off the nearest bridge. Not like anyone would notice. Maybe not even your family.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. A few gasps erupted from nearby classmates and the room fell eagerly quiet. Taeha’s minions exchanged nervous glances, even though they didn't expect her to go that far.

Your heart pounded as shame and anger battled within you as you stayed speechless. You didn’t know what to think, you hated her with your whole heart but her words hurt. “Seriously,” Taeha continued, her voice dripping with cruel satisfaction. “Are you gonna cry right nowww, awhhhh” she faked the sadness in her tone as she continued.

“That’s enough, you bitch” suddenly a deep demanding voice cursed out from behind you, standing right in front of Taeha’s group across the table, obviously feeling no guilt in hurting your feelings.

“Pfft, here we go weirdos protecting other weirdos.” Taeha scoffed as you turned around to face your savior.

Karina stood still in her place as her eyebrow twitched in irritation at the brat. “You wouldn’t know what that is,” she continues, slowly walking closer to Taeha. “I bet your minions would run away if someone hurt you like that.”

Taeha scoffed again as she glared at her 2 friends who had an awkward expression on their face. Inhaling an irritating breath she turns back to Karina.

“Jimin,” she takes a step closer, tilting her head as if competing with Karina. “Don't mess with people you can’t handle.” roughly she pokes Karina’s shoulder. Earning a glare from her back. At such confident words Karina furrowed her eyebrows, death glaring at Taeha.

Taeha wouldn't admit it, but she was always kind of scared of Karina. Her eyes spoke louder than words, and right now, Karina hesitated into doing something unspoken.

“S-Stop looking at me like that” Taeha finally reveals her fear. Cold sweat dripped off her forehead. “Like what?” Karina muttered out. Taeha becomes nervous, “Like you’re gonna kill me or something.” slightly backing away, Taeha stuttered out. Her minions whispered that she should drop it and leave. Then without any response, they push through Karina and leave like cowards.

Shocked at how Karina stood up against them, you thank her. “It’s nothing, they deserve the worst anyway.” Karina responds to your thankings while still glaring at the trio's direction. After on, she turns to you with the same sly smile she gave you yesterday.

“Don’t let their words come to you, if you just died one day I know I would’ve noticed that first.” there was some kind of comfort in her voice, as if she truly cares for you—wants you.

You widened your eyes at her words, slight blush creeping on your cheekbones. “You really mean that?” you asked, not believing she actually said what she said. “Of course!!” Karina exclaimed out, holding a sweet eye contact with you.

Her gaze held yours, steady, without a slight blink. She was looking right into your soul. “You’re… different, Y/n. And I mean that in the best way.” Something in her tone made your heart skip a beat. Was it a threat or a sign of kindness?

“Different?” you repeated, trying to hide the nervousness in your voice. “What do you mean?” but Karina didn’t get to answer you due to the bell ringing. She just kept her genuine smile on her face, like a doll.

What is this weird feeling? Why is it that everytime you thought about Karina or was near her presence you felt so— af ease?

Days went on and you found out a lot about the castle and vampires overall. The more you learned about them the closer you got with Karina. It felt so odd but so right. Your theory of her being a vampire was still present even after getting close with her, but you kinda liked the mystery she held within herself. She always stood up to you whenever Taeha made a comment or two and you didn’t have the nerve to respond. As if she was your guardian and you loved her for that.

Today was the day to finally make a move—to go explore the infamous gothic castle.

The sun set below the horizon, raising the thick fog and the full moon as you approached the gigantic old castle. The cool night air was heavy with the scent of rough stone and rotten leaves.

Your heart pounded within your chest as you stepped in the territory. Standing right in front of the massive gates you take a deep breath.

Am I actually doing this? you thought, inhaling the winter air as if nothing. Walking towards the entrance the sudden opening of the gates made you shiver. Who opened them?

The loud creaking of the rusty metal roared until it stopped in its trance, wide open for you to take a step in.

Every footstep you took echoed through the floor and there was no turning back now. Slowly, the creaking started again right after you walked inside. You took a deep breath again and looked at the large door, you tried to knock 3 times on it but there was no answer until you noticed the door opened by itself again.

You swallowed a huge lump in your throat, nervousness and cold sweat covering your thoughts and forehead as you finally went inside. The air was light but extremely rotten. Revealing the large empty hall, your breath got caught as you noticed claw-like marks scarring the ancient stone walls.

Gripping the flashlight you’d brought, you walked deeper through the castle. The air grew colder, almost unnatural and an eager silence enveloped you. Then, a faint noise broke the silence—a muffled groan. As if someone was eating something?

You froze, listening with your ears. Following the noise, you rushed up a winding staircase to a large room with a partially collapsed ceiling. The moonlight creeped right through the broken roof. The sight right in front of you made your blood run cold.

There kneeled Karina, a person in her arms as she raised her head to face you. Fresh blood surrounding her mouth and chin,a few drops dripping down. You hitched at the sight as Karina stared at you bluntly—as if she wanted you to see this.

Karina rose to her feet, slowly and peacefully, her movements as graceful as they were predatory. The lifeless body in her arms—Taeha—slumped to the ground with a sickening thud . Blood pooled beneath her, right from her neck, the once arrogant blonde now pale and unrecognizable.

You stumbled back, gripping your flashlight so tightly your knuckles turned white. "Karina," you managed to choke out, your voice barely understandable. It wasn’t the fact that Karina just killed your bully, it was the fact that you thought she would eat you next.

“Sur…prise?” Karina awkwardly chuckled, standing right next to Taeha’s dead and pale body. She looked at you with her famous smile but suddenly she turned around. “Just a sec,” she wipes the blood off her chin with her sleeves, making her clothes dirtier.

Slowly you took steady steps closer to her, aiming your flashlight at Taeha. “I-I’m not even sad she’s like….dead but…” You manage to stutter out, stopping mid trance. “But?” Karina asks you, now being 2 steps in front of you. Your heart beated with anticipation and fear, but something was telling you to keep steady. “Aren’t you gonna eat me…too?” your voice shakes with a slight scared tone. At your question Karina put a hand on both your shoulders, not flinching at her despite you being scared.

“Of course I won’t, silly.” she starts, leaning in closer. “Why would I eat someone I was protecting these days while getting closer?” She smiles abruptly, easing your nervousness. Karina took one of your trembling hands and held it tightly, “Believe me, Y/n, I meant my words when I said you were different.” you then remembered her words once she mentioned it. You never got an answer to your question.

“What I meant with that was…your scent is different.” she starts as you listen carefully. “You see, vampires live an eternity but all they always look for is someone with a certain scent that matches theirs— they look for a soulmate.” she explained while you listened like an obedient puppy. Were you actually—Karina’s soulmate?

Speechless you blink at her words, taking a step forward. “Are you implying that I’m…” without finishing Karina nodes at your words. Gently she traces her arms over your shoulder to your lower arm. “I had to know what was up with you and I guess fate got you closer to me too.” a teasing tone in her voice as you blush at her words. “I love vampires, what can I say?” you glance at the dark haired vampire who’s eyes glowed as red as her victims blood.

“And I love you.” Karina blunted out. As soon as she saw your eyebrows widen she then realized what she just said and immediately took a step back, embarrassed. “Waaah sorry it just slipped out I didn—” but before she could finish, she felt your arms wrap around her cold body pulling her into a tight hug.

Karina might’ve been a vampire with cold pale skin that couldn’t be warmed up—but this was the warmest she felt in centuries. She fit so well in your arms and there wasn’t a chance to be lost. You still held her but pulled away enoughly to look into her beautiful reddish eyes who dimmed with pure love.

“Maybe I love you too.” you teased, stroking her right cheek with your thumb. Karina playfully scoffed. “Prove it then.” she teased back as she playfully walked you to the nearest wall, pining you up against it. Completely trapped under her, she waited for your permission.

Suddenly you pull her into a rough kiss by the edge of her shirt. Karina gasped at the sudden reaction but she knew you liked it by feeling your sly smirk through the kiss. Her hands wandered your body.

Your hands snaked to the back of her shoulders as your breathless groans filled Karina’s ears who was busy leaving a couple of hickeys on your neck. Dropping your flashlight, your hands wandered Karina’s hips. The tension was getting hotter with each shared kiss.

Your hands gripped her hair as she kissed your lips again. As the both pulled back to gasp for air, you noticed Karina’s teeth getting sharper. Innocently you gazed in her eyes, placing a cute kiss on her nose.

Karina whispered into your ear, “You’re magnificent.” as she started kissing your neck again, her arms finding its way under your shirt, her cold skin tracing to your upper waist. Karina wanted more of you, she wanted you for herself—forever.

Then you suddenly got an idea.

"rina?” Nicknaming her, you get Karina’s attention, she looks up at you. She brushed a strand of hair behind your ear as her eyes met yours. “How about,” you start, taking both her palms, gripping them tightly. “I get to stay with you…forever,” the words made Karina tilt her head, shrugging her shoulders in confusion. “as a vampire.”

Karina widened her sharp looking eyes, her face telling you she’s either gonna disagree or she wasn’t sure about it. “A-Are you sure?” worriedly she stuttered out.

“Believe me, I trust you the fullest.” reassuring Karina you hold her palms. Looking down at them you see red veins underneath her pale breezing skin. Soon after you look up at her, “I want to get to know you more, I-I really do” you stutter out. Karina’s heart softening as well as her face at your words.

“If you completely trust me then…” she wanders her freezing fingers over the warm skin of your neck. Already knowing where to bite. “Are you ready?” she smirks upon you as her eyes start to redden at the thought. In agreement, you npdd surely, giving Karina the green light.

Gently, as gently as a vampire possibly could, she bit your neck and started to suck in your blood. The weight off your shoulders faded away the longer she was doing her job. Your hands gripped the back of Karina’s hair in desperation. When you finally started to feel weak, you dropped to your knees right into Karina’s arms. She laid you down in her lap as she brushed her mouth off with her already bloody sleeve.

She took out her pocket knife and before digging it into her skin she took a deep breath. Furrowing her facial features, she leaned her arm towards your wounded neck as you struggled to breath and your eyes rolled as if in ecstasy.

The blood off her hand met yours and the transition came to a start. “Close your eyes, ynnie, I got you.” Karina whispered words of reassurance and that was the last thing you remembered before you passed out.

A few minutes went on, 45 minutes to be exact, and you finally started to come to consciousness. Karina waited patiently and didn't rush you to things. She brushed over your forehead, as gentle as a mother tucking her child in bed.

Your eyes finally opened, but your vision was blurry. It all felt so weird but also really natural. The sounds you were hearing were clearer, the colors you were seeing were brighter and you felt—intoxicated.

“Welcome to my world, my dear” Karina kisses your forehead. “Now we can finally be together….forever”

P.S. post transition moments

The first thing you felt wasn't Karina’s words of warmth but the fresh body of your bully. When you gained your senses you ran towards it and started devouring her flesh. Karina was shocked but you earned a chuckle from her. Knowing that newborn vampires are usually really out of control.

“Eat up, darlin’ as much as you need.” Karina called out with sweetness in her tone, sparkles all around her face.

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters: What's Your Favorite Romance Book to Read/Listen To?

As requested by @cosmereplay :)

To be honest, I'm not sure if I'm quite doing what cosmereplay was envisioning, but this is what I got! :) This is in honor of Ardent Ellista, whom we see reading An Accountability of Virtue, which seems to be a courtly love-triangle epic romance tale. So what type of romance books do other Cosmere characters enjoy?

1. Vivenna

Vivenna: My favorite romance growing up was All the Colors of the Heart, about a princess betrothed from birth to this prince. And although she was scared, she was determined to make the best of it. Vivenna: Then it turned out he was very evil so she killed him and took over his kingdom and married his super hot, non-evil sister. Vivenna: As a young girl, I read that book over and over and over again... Susebron: H-Ha, it's so nice to meet your family, Siri...

2. Siri

Siri: Well, I always liked Dusk, about a girl who had to choose between the love of a frightening but alluring Returned who had to steal breath to live and a wolf man. Vivenna: Ugh, so unrealistic though. Why would a Returned who was thousands of years old want to hang out with a teenage girl anyway? Vasher: Sometimes she just insists on tagging along and won't stop. Vivenna: HEY

3. Adolin

Adolin: Look, An Accountability of Virtue is popular for a reason. Adolin: It has everything! Balls! Fancy clothing! Pining! Adolin: And of course, a happy ending. Adolin: Personally, I think I'm quite the Sterling. Shallan: You are. Adolin: Yessssss.

5. Moash

Moash: I like pretty much anything that's lovers to enemies. Leshwi: ... Leshwi: You mean enemies to lovers? Moash: Don't be ridiculous.

6. Painter

Painter: I like a good gothic romance. Painter: Two twisted people, scorned by society, finding a dark and bitter love in each other... Painter: Always ends tragically... Painter: That's the good stuff for a dark soul like mine. Yumi: Really? Because the book on your nightstand is... Painter: I'M HOLDING MAID CAFE LOVE FOR A FRIEND

7. Raboniel

Raboniel: The Fused have a tale about two of our kind who were soulmates. Raboniel: But they could never find a way to be together. Raboniel: One would be reborn while the other still remained on Braize. Raboniel: The one would escape only for the other to be killed within their very sight. Navani: .... Navani: And that's your, uh, favorite romance? Raboniel: All of our stories are like that.

8. Dieno

Dieno: Silly and poorly written it may be, but it's Fifty Lengths of Chain for me. Jasnah: ...Is that really a romance, though? The cover art is just...shackles. Dieno: Romance comes in many forms.

9. Steris

Steris: Well, as embarrassing as this may be to admit... I have always been a big fan of bodice-rippers. Wax: ... Wax: So, uh, we never negotiated about role-play, but... Steris: I'LL GET MY SPECIALLY DESIGNED RIPPABLE BODICE

10. Dalinar

Dalinar: My favorite romance is of course the story of me and Navani. Navani: Awww! Dalinar: But my second favorite romance is the explicit self-insert fanfiction I wrote about myself and Nohadon. Navani: ... Navani: You just learned to write. Dalinar: The world needed to know.

[blacknedsoul-blog]

Nevermore is a gothic tragedy. Part I: Classical and Shakespearean Tragedy

This essay assumes that you've read the first season of Nevermore. If you haven't, you'll be eating spoilers.

First of all, a disclaimer: you won't find the term "Gothic tragedy" in theory books, because I just pulled it out of my sleeve. But it seemed appropriate to put it in those terms because, hey, beyond theoretical structuring, genres are also used as a guide to content, and that's kind of what I want to express with this.

Partly because I've noticed that I've called this comic a tragedy on more than one occasion, and talked at length about Lenore and Annabel as gothic characters, but never bothered to delve into these matters, and with the hiatus until (possibly) October, I think it's time to rectify that situation.

But also because I think there are a lot of things in this story that fall into place if you read it under the logic of those genres.

Originally, this was going to be a single essay, but it turns out it took over 2000 fucking words just to explain why it's a fucking tragedy, so I'm going to split this shit in two because I don't want to burn anyone's eyes out.

Tragedy and Types of Tragedy

This is the ridiculously abridged version because this is a really long story, if you want more information on the subject I highly recommend reading Aristotle's Poetics, Nietzsche's The Birth of Tragedy or watching this OSP video for a more proper introduction. If you're interested in Shakespearean tragedy, The Cambridge Shakespeare is a amazing compilation, and here's the essay that talks specifically about what the hell Shakespearean tragedy is.

Tragedy has been linked to the origins of theater as such, found in the festivals dedicated to Dionysus (if you want to know more about the cult of Dionysus, you can watch this video to start), where poetry contests were held, specifically of dithyrambs: lyric compositions dedicated specifically to Dionysus. This later led to the inclusion of an increasingly sophisticated chorus using masks. This was no longer poetry, but the first expressions of theater as we understand it in modern times, at least for Europe and the countries colonized by Europeans.

Nietzsche also points out that tragedy condenses within itself two opposing impulses represented in the gods Apollo and Dionysus, expressed in the terms "Apollonian" and "Dionysian": order, mathematics and music (understood by the Greeks as science) vs. party, debauchery and chaos. The clash between the beautiful and the grotesque (understanding that the "beautiful" can be disturbing and the "grotesque" can be strangely beautiful). This description is not entirely literal, of course, but it must be kept in mind that in order to have the fundamentals of a tragedy, one must have these two elements: order and chaos. A synchronized waltz between the rigid structures and the rupturing.

Yes, those two are enough.

Step by step, I think it is important to point out what are the transversal elements to tragedy - classical or Shakespearean - that are present in the comic.

The first important concept that appears on this page is Amarthia. The tragic mistake, the first domino that topples the whole stack, is the specific event that sets tragedy in motion, and we spectators of tragedy can only stare in horror at the situation, knowing that everything that follows will go terribly wrong.

At least as far as its protagonists are concerned, Annabel and Lenore's Amarthia has been said but not seen: the dinner party where Annabel will wear pearls, indicating to Lenore that she is in on the charade. From then on, every step they take will bring them closer to the fate we know: the arrival of both of them in Nevermore. This story ends with them both dead.

And if I had to point out the Amarthia of the comic's topicality, I would dare to say that this is it:

And this:

Annabel refuses to explain to Lenore why the plan has to be the way it is, while Lenore agrees to be part of it (the fact that she disagrees with the whole situation is a plus).

The interesting thing about this is that the roles are reversed: before, Annabel sealed the tragic fate of both of them by accepting Lenore's proposal, while in Nevermore, Lenore sealed the tragic fate of both of them by accepting Annabel's plan.

Another important term that comes up here is hybris. While it is true that hybris represents ego, this does not necessarily mean that the hero is self-centered in a personality sense; hybris is the tragic hero's (misguided, of course) belief that they can turn their terrible situation around. And, well…

That ends badly in tragedies. Very, very badly.

At this point, it is necessary to start pointing out the elements of each type of tragedy, because something interesting is happening: within the ancient walls of the purgatory that is Nevermore, a classical tragedy is taking place, while in the past, Annabel and Lenore were the protagonists of a Shakespearean tragedy.

Classical Tragedy

One thing to understand about classical tragedy is that these are stories of humanity versus divinity. The predestined fate that comes upon mortals at the hands of beings superior to them, even if those beings do not appear directly. The external forces superior to the characters do not intervene directly (at least not in most cases), but they put all the pieces in place for the tragic hero to fall headlong into his terrible fate "by their own hand". Yeah, that shit is so unfair.

In Nevermore, fate is represented by these two bastards: The Deans act as the ominous shadow of divinity that sets the rules of this battle royale. For all intents and purposes, this pair of bastards represents the tragic fate of the characters: only one will survive to have a second life. And there is (theoretically) no way to escape.

This is where we start to get into thorny issues. If I had to point out the classical tragedy that Nevermore most resembles, I think I'd get a smile out of Hadestown fans: Orpheo and Eurydice.

Okay, let's review: Orpheo is a highly talented musician who, after losing his beloved, goes to the underworld to find her. Hades and Persephone give him a chance to get her back if he doesn't turn around to see her until they leave the place, he does so at the last second, she returns to the underworld, and Orpheus spends the rest of his life in misery mourning her.

That's the thing, the story of Orpheo and Euridice is a tragedy for the most depressing reason of all: love. What seems like a generous gift from Hades and Persephone is actually a condemnation, because they ask Orpheus to do the one thing he could never do: stop looking at his beloved. In some versions of the story, he can't even hear her as they walk; will she really be her, or has he been tricked? Will she be frightened on this journey and he will not be there to comfort her? What if she has trouble on the road or an accident and Orpheus has left her behind? Orpheus loves Eurydice so much that he cannot save her under these circumstances because he cannot stop watching over her long enough to get her out of here.

Now let's go to Annabel and Lenore, the same thing is happening here, these two idiots love each other. It's probably the only thing they know for sure in this bullshit game. And for Annabel and Lenore, to love is to protect, it's to be the shield that will be there to defend their beloved in the face of adversity, she's been hurt in a terrible way and they will do anything to stop anyone from hurting her again.

But tragic fate, represented by the Deans, has set things in motion for this to quickly go to hell:

For Lenore to understand Annabel's actions, she would have to tell her that's why she's so afraid, why they shouldn't get attached to anyone, why she thinks it's necessary to pretend they don't remember each other. But Lenore can't be okay with Annabel carrying everything alone, because she sees how it hurts her, because Annabel is clearly hurting. She goes to great lengths to confide in Annabel, but she can't come up with a plausible explanation for all this crap either.

For Annabel, becoming a villain and enduring all this pain is slightly less horrible than dragging Lenore into the Deans' psychotic game. But Lenore just loves her too much to let her do that. Lenore could protect her if Annabel were by her side, so why does she keep leaving? She was hurt the first time, why do it to her a second time?

The feeling of not being heard, the frustration that the other just won't listen to her pleas and won't stop what she's doing to allow her to be cared for, runs through both of them because it's the exact same situation, "Why won't you let me do this for you?"

The answer is that Annabel and Lenore are asking the other to do the one thing she could never stop doing: stop trying to protect her. That's why they fight.

This relationship has become a power game that neither can win because they are both exactly the same. A tug-of-war that will only be resolved when something breaks. Hopefully not irreparably.

And speaking of the P-word, let's talk Shakespeare, people.

Shakespearean Tragedy

The good Bard took classical tragedy and brought it back, but changed enough elements of it that it had to be renamed because some of its fundamentals were rewritten. The most notorious of these is that while Shakespeare does not ignore the presence of higher forces or supernatural entities, the fundamental basis of Shakespearean tragedy is not the conflict between humanity and the Fates/Gods.

It is power.

Those who wield power, those who are corrupted by it, and those who crave it. These tragedies speak of moral corruption, the victims of power, and those who sink under the responsibility that power brings.

This is the reason why Shakespeare's tragic heroes belong to the nobility, come from opulent families, or hold important positions. In this case, we have as protagonists two women who were born in a cradle of gold: Lenore apparently comes from a family of old money, and while we do not know if Annabel also comes from a family of old money, we do know that there is no shortage of coins around here.

But status cannot protect Shakespeare's protagonists from the society in which they live, whose agency is sometimes literally represented by people with power. This puts them in a situation from which they cannot escape and which screws them from the start (in other cases the Shakespearean protagonist is the figure of power and seals his own fate). Here, the odds are stacked against them from the start because they are women and, as if that were not enough, lesbians.

I think it's no surprise to anyone that the Shakespearean tragedy most similar to Nevermore is Romeo and Juliet.

Let's review: Romeo and Juliet are two young people who meet at a party and fall madly in love. Their families hate each other, so they cannot be together. The two secretly marry, but after an argument Romeo kills a man and is banished, despite a plan hatched by a priest friend so they can run away together, things go terribly wrong and they both end up committing suicide.

This follows a similar logic to Orpheus and Eurydice: the tragedy here is that these two are in love. But where classical tragedy says, "They love each other so much they can't save themselves," Romeo and Juliet, like Annabel and Lenore, works with two layers of conflict.

The first is the social and political. These young people's families hate each other, so they can't be together. In the same way, Annabel and Lenore can't be together because they're both women.

This is also a reference to one of the central themes of Romeo and Juliet: the clash between tradition and modernity. I think if you squint hard enough, you can see the relationship between these two as Victorian conservatism and homophobia screwing up their lives in the same way that tradition screws up Romeo and Juliet's.

The other layer of the problem is the one that has to do with love: Romeo and Juliet love each other so much that they cannot live without each other. This is what drives them both to suicide, even when they are given the opportunity to continue their lives separately. They love each other so much that they cannot live without each other. Just as Annabel and Lenore desperately want to be together, this is what starts the engine of tragedy when circumstances prevent them from doing so.

Another thing it takes from Romeo and Juliet is the role of the parents as a representation of the power that oppresses the characters. In Romeo and Juliet, the Montague and Capulet lords pull the strings of their children's lives, and it is their resentment that creates the barrier between the lovers. In the case of Nevermore, Ira and Thaddeus are the personal jailers of their respective daughters: Ira wants to get Annabel into an arranged marriage by hook or by crook, and Thaddeus first gets Lenore a fiancé and then keeps her locked up in the fucking attic.

Finally, a tragedy that can be read as a reference to Nevermore, though more subtly, is Macbeth.

The plot is simple: a trio of witches tell Duke Macbeth that he and his descendants will one day be kings. This leads him to murder his cousin, King Duncan, and everything goes downhill from there, because Duncan's murder didn't even amuse the prince.

Yes, at first glance it doesn't seem to make much sense, but that's because it's referring to a specific moment. Specifically, the most discussed and controversial scene in the play: the dialog where Lady Macbeth and Macbeth discuss killing Duncan.

This scene has kept the Bard's fans arguing for centuries: is she manipulating her husband so that she can be queen, or is she just verbalizing Macbeth's wishes that he be allowed to commit the crime, and saying that she will support him in it? Impossible to know unless someone gets a working Ouija board.

This is the same logic that follows the flashback scene where Lenore talks to Annabel about the plan. The important thing here is that the comic decides that the answer is: it depends on who you ask.

Given Annabel's attitude toward Lenore, we can interpret that she does not think she was manipulated or anything. Lenore is not a devious woman who put things in her head, it was her knight in shining armor who came to save her from a marriage she didn't want. Yes, she may have had her doubts, but she definitely liked her chances, enough to accept them.

On the other hand, what this tells me is that Lenore thinks the opposite: that she convinced Annabel to be part of this hoax that ended with both of them dead. A crazy woman who dragged the only person she cared about into a dangerous game that cost them their lives, she considers herself as guilty as the perpetrating hand of the crime.

Conclusion

I think the first time I decided to do a review under this particular lens was when I started to notice where Annabel and Lenore's arcs seemed to be going.

On the one hand, given how things are going, it seems that Lenore has to start taking off the blindfold to realize that things aren't as simple as she thinks, and stop letting others make the hard decisions for her because it hurts everyone.

On Annabel's side, you have a character arc that seems to be aimed at being honest with other people, not letting her fears stop her from making risky decisions, and not dealing with all the bullshit herself.

If what I just said leaves a bad taste in your mouth, that's normal. Because it's fucking unfair.

That Lenore should be the one to stand firm - not out of guilt, but out of responsibility - for her actions feels like shit after everything the poor girl has been through. The same thing happens on Annabel's side, that she has to give in to a situation where it makes so much sense for her to shut down, where it makes sense, even without her background, for her to behave that way.

But that sense of injustice is one of the foundations of tragedies. The feeling that, in her situation, it is practically impossible to think that anything different could be done is the basis of catharsis: the pity felt for the character, the fear generated by identifying with their terrible situation.

The expiation of these emotions, which are produced in the spectator by the fall of the tragic hero.

Now, it is interesting to ask how the fall of Annabel and Lenore will be. The simple answer from a tragic point of view is death, a thing we know has already happened once, why not a second time? After all, that's what awaits tragic heroes. Unless you're Medea.

It's impossible to know how the comic will develop, but it seems to me that this is as far as the tragedy goes. For the next part, I want to talk about gothic novels, female vampires, the female writers of the period, and the last gothic. Believe me, buddies, there is no more obsessive romantic bond than that between a Poe protagonist and their dead bride.

[steddie-island]

Slay Bells

Written for @steddiebingo 12 days of Christmas Prompts: Cookies, candy canes, feast Rating: G | WC: 2,361 | Tags: Meet ugly, Pre-Steddie, Minor Robin Buckley/ Chrissy Cunningham, rockstar Eddie Munson ao3 | Divider credit

"What the hell is this?"

Eddie had agreed to let Chrissy redecorate his home before cameras came and set up everywhere, but he hadn't expected for it to not look like his house anymore.

Sure, his furniture was there still, but his couch had been covered and there were different curtains hanging up in the living room. Everything was draped in red and green and gold and it was so bright and cheerful and fucking plaid, Eddie wanted to throw up.

"Chrissy!"

"She's not here."

Eddie looked towards the voice. The man standing on top of the step ladder looked like he belonged there in the middle of all of this, with his coiffed hair and his ridiculously soft looking yellow sweater. Eddie watched him stretch, felt his mouth go dry at the sight of tummy— before all of that was squished by the sight of a garish angel being put on the top of the tree taking up most of one corner of his living room.

"No. Nope! Hey—" Eddie waved his arms in front of him as he crossed to stand in front of the tree like he could block anything from where he was still standing on the ground.

The man blinked down at him with that ugly angel in his hands. "Chrissy said we needed to make this place look like Christmas threw up."

"You succeeded. What the fuck is all of this?" Eddie looked around again before putting a hand on his chest. He wasn't actually having a heart attack, he was sure, but seeing his home taken from somewhere he could relax to some sort of gothic Christmas GAP showroom abomination was making him feel like he was awfully close.

The man climbed off of the ladder and put his hands on his hips. "We can take some of it down—"

"Might be faster to just bulldoze the whole goddamn house."

The man's jaw clicked, and Eddie saw a shift on his face that made him shiver. "I'm sorry, did we ruin the whole lone wolf Dracula thing you had going? Don't worry, we saved all of the rats and any cobwebs can be put right back."

"Cobwebs? Are you trying to say it was dirty before?" Eddie asked.

"No, I'm saying it looked like you were going for more of an Edward Cullen vibe and Chrissy told—"

"Edward Cullen—"

"Hey!" Chrissy Cunningham clapped her hands loudly several times as she hurried into the room. Eddie was ready to ignore both her and the woman following after her, but Chrissy didn't stop clapping until she was standing between the two of them.

"Hey, Eddie, we talked about this—"

"Not like this we didn't!" Eddie stopped shooting lasers at the decorator and aimed them at Chrissy instead. "What the fuck did you do to my house!"

Chrissy looked around the room, then back at Eddie. He wanted to keep being pissed but it was hard to do that when she was dressed like Ski Trip Barbie, complete with puffy pink vest and and a matching pink hat that had a big fluffy pompom on the top of it.

"This wasn't what I imagined, either, but this can be undone!" Chrissy looked back at the man with that angel that Eddie just really wanted to throw at this point. "It can be undone, right? Before tomorrow?"

The man sighed, but his partner stepped in.

"We can fix it," she said. Her smile was on Chrissy, she wasn't addressing Eddie at all. "We should've asked more questions before we started, but we can fix this before any cameras get here."

Chrissy smiled and reached out to touch the woman's arm. "Thank you, Robin."

Oh, so that was Robin? Eddie had heard stories about her, but he hadn't seen her before now. Some of his anger melted away.

Until ladder man spoke up again.

"There's no way, not unless we work overnight," he protested. "This already took all day—"

"Then we'll work overnight," Robin said, shooting him a look. "Steve we've pulled off bigger jobs than this before—"

"I'm not fucking Santa Claus!" Steve argued. "It would take a miracle—"

Chrissy started clapping her hands again. Eddie wondered whether it was leftover from her days as a cheerleader or if it was something she'd picked up to command attention. Either way, it worked.

"I will be here to help!" she said brightly. "It'll be super easy with all three of us." She turned to Eddie and gave him a smile. "Your uncle just got into town anyway, right?"

"Right," Eddie grumbled.

"Then why don't you pack a bag, get a room somewhere— on me! And tomorrow, before any cameras come in for your interview, you can do a runthrough to make sure everything has been fixed to your taste."

Steve snorted, said something that sounded like "What taste?" but a look from Robin shut him up and wiped the smirk off of his face.

Eddie rubbed his thumb over the screen of his phone. He hated the idea of these three being left in charge longer than they already had been, but it couldn't exactly get worse than this.

Right?

"Fine." Eddie gave a firm nod, then pointed a finger at Chrissy. "I'm relying on you not to let Mr. Rogers over there fuck this up any more than he already has."

"Mr. Rogers? Is that supposed to—"

Chrissy reached back and put a hand on Steve's chest. "We'll make it perfect. It'll look like the most metal Christmas of your dreams, Eddie."

Eddie grimaced, sighed, shot one last look at the pair of decorators, then turned to pack a bag. "It better be."

Eddie was trying to relax but nothing was working. Not Wayne's excitement over how nice their room was— "Really, Ed, you didn't have to go to all this trouble…" or Home Alone playing on the TV while they feasted on anything and everything Eddie could have sent up from the kitchens.

All Eddie could think of while he filled up his third plate was his house, about how he'd given Chrissy an inch and the whole fucking rug had been pulled out from underneath him. Maybe it was stupid to be as upset as he was over decorations, but this was important, dammit.

And it wasn't like he wouldn't have decorated in his own way if he'd been home and had time, but Corroded Coffin barely managed to squeeze any sort of Christmas break in on this tour, and he would rather have actually spent what time he did have with Wayne instead of fussing over a damn tree.

"You've got steam comin' outta your ears."

A hand came up to his ear. "I do not." Eddie slumped further down into the couch before reaching for his beer bottle.

"C'mon, son. It's not that big a deal. They'll have it fixed, didn't you say your manager is helping them fix it herself?" Wayne nudged Eddie with his elbow. "Besides, I heard Santa doesn't visit kids who pout two days before Christmas."

"I'm not pouting!" Eddie knew he was, though. And really, it was stupid. He was letting this one thing ruin their visit together when he only had Wayne for a week. He sighed, sat up again. "Ah shit, I am pouting. I just… wanted this to be perfect."

"We're together for Christmas again, it will be." Wayne clinked their bottles together lightly. "Why don't you tell me more about this big interview you're doing tomorrow?"

Eddie was trying his damndest not to be anxious, but the closer they got to home the harder he had to fight not to chew on his cuticles.

Chrissy was standing outside, wearing a fuzzy red vest with a matching hat instead of the pink she'd donned the day before. She hugged both Eddie and Wayne before hurrying towards the front door. "Come on, Ed! You're gonna love it!" Eddie tried not to grimace as he followed after her with his overnight bag over his shoulder.

The first thing he noticed when he stepped inside was Steve and Robin, standing on either side of the tree. The second thing was the decorations.

They weren't garish anymore. The plaid covering on his couch was gone and instead a soft looking red blanket had been draped over the back of it. There were red throw pillows, too, with silver and black embroidered over them. The tree was lit with white lights and draped in ornaments and tinsel in shades of red, silver, and black. They'd made it so even the red and white candy canes looked like they belonged here with the job that the trio had done.

"Oh my god is that—" Eddie grinned as he hurried closer to the tree. Instead of the garish angel, a top hat with conchos on a leather band around the base of it.

"We figured a Slash hat made a pretty metal topper," Chrissy said, and Steve nodded his agreement.

The only red and green decorations were the garland strung around the walls, over his mantlepiece, wrapped around the banister leading upsairs, where he would find the bedding in all of the bedrooms switched out to elegant Christmas and winter-esque designs that matched the decor downstairs.

"I didn't think you would pull it off." Eddie grinned and turned to Chrissy. "You fucking did it."

"We're geniuses," she said proudly. "Steve did the tree himself."

Eddie flicked his eyes back to Steve. He still had the same yellow sweater on, his hair was less put together. And now there were simple gold frame glasses sitting on his nose, making those brown eyes even more obvious.

"Well damn. I guess Mr. Rogers has more taste than we thought, too." Eddie's joke didn't land, just earned an eyeroll from Steve before he nudged Robin.

"That's our cue to go get some sleep," he said.

Robin nodded, stopped to kiss Chrissy's cheek with a, "See you tonight!", then hurried after Steve so they could be gone before the reporter showed up.

"So are we still on? Are you still upset?" Chrissy asked.

Eddie looked at his watch. "Let's get this show on the road!"

The interview went off without a hitch. They walked through Eddie's house, asking their questions, taking in every inch of where he'd made a home for himself. Somehow the kitchen had been stocked with fresh baked goods, too, some of which were sent home with the reporter at the end of it all.

Not so many that Eddie couldn't pack them up and take them to Chrissy's when he and Wayne headed over for her Christmas party later that night.

After how well the interview had gone, Eddie was riding high and feeling good.

Until he noticed Steve, standing beside Christmas tree looking every bit as good as he'd looked before they'd had their little argument the day before.

No, not an argument. They hadn't talked enough for it to be an argument. And sure, he'd been compared to Dracula (flattering) and then Edward Cullen (less flattering, thanks) but surely that wasn't enough for them to need to avoid each other forever.

Eddie snagged two glasses of champagne and weaved his way through the crowd. "Mr. Rogers."

Steve gave him a look, then turned so he was facing away from Eddie, though he didn't walk away.

Eddie followed him and offered one of the glasses up. "I think I owe you an apology for yesterday." He smiled a little. "Maybe not as big as the one you owe me, maybe, but— I'm kidding!"

Steve shook his head. "You're not the worst client I've ever had, I used to have to decorate for my mom," he said.

"Oooh, I don't know if that's a bigger burn on me or your mom." Eddie gently waved the champagne glass until Steve took it from him.

"Me, either." Steve took a sip and let his shoulders relax a little.

Tonight his sweater was a deep red. It looked even softer than the blanket they'd draped over Eddie's couch. Eddie wanted to touch it.

"For the record, I almost didn't notice how ugly the decorations were yesterday. I had this… really hot guy standing in my house. I think if you hadn't been putting that angel on the tree I might not have noticed for another… five minutes, maybe?" Eddie gave him another smile.

Steve narrowed his eyes, tipped his head to the side as he watched Eddie. "Do you always come across as this needy when you're trying to apologize?"

"Very much so." Eddie grinned and leaned against the wall. "It gets people to take a little pity on me."

"Oh, yes. Mr. Rockstar needs all the sympathy he can get." Still, Steve wasn't walking away, so Eddie wasn't blowing this as much as he could've been.

"No, no, pity is the better word." Eddie bumped his foot against Steve's. "Even the worst pity date can turn into a real date with the right person." His eyes softened, and he reached out to touch Steve's wrist, to find out if the sweater really was as soft as it looked. It wasn't, it was softer. "And I really am sorry."

"Me, too," Steve said after a moment, once he'd drained his champagne flute. "I don't think there were enough brides in your house for you to be compared to Dracula."

Eddie laughed brightly. "I guess I'll need to work on that, then," he said.

"You really have to work on asking people out, then. Unless you're just beating around the bush until the other person beats you to it?" Steve challenged Eddie with a raised brow while he drained his champagne.

"No, no, I can do it." Eddie put his glass down. "Would you, Steve— I'm so sorry, I don't know your last name— be open to having dinner with sometime?"

Steve just watched him for a few long seconds before smiling, giving a nod. "As big a pain in the ass as you've been, I think I would like that."

"You think that was me being a pain in the ass? Baby, you haven't seen anything yet."

[jjkamochoso]

It's been awhile since I've been in your askbox, it feels nice to be back! Back with another Feitan request of course!! I loved the Shalnark fic you wrote btw, it was pretty in character for your first time writing him and it was really sweet! Anywho, may I please request the same type of Reader I usually do, feminine and into cute gothic Lolita styles, where she drags him along to go shopping for a frilly swimsuit and to the beach, or maybe if they got to stay somewhere nice for a while and indoor pool where it's just them? If you can't tell I'm missing the warmer weather, and even more I'm missing sitting in one of those indoor hot tubs all nice and warm. Most of the plot is up to you, just Feitan x Reader who's ready to go swimming!

Take your time and don't burn yourself out, thank you so much!! ^^ ♡

It’s always nice to be able to take requests again, I miss creating stories for you all!❤️ and I’m very happy to have you back in my inbox with more Feitan content! I miss the summertime too so I had a wonderful time imagining myself shopping for a swimsuit and swimming, especially with Feitan🤭 I hope you love what I’ve written and as always, thanks to everyone for your never ending support and love!!🫶❤️

Fei’s Beach Day

Fluff

Feitan Portor x f!reader

Warnings: none

You closed the door behind you, relishing in the little heat of the room you were staying in as you took off your gloves and hat. Another mission done where you were bundled up in your warmest jacket, fighting the enemy while fighting the snow blowing into your eyes.

You were so done with winter.

You had barely taken a breath of relaxation before Phinks’ number lit up your phone. You released a sigh of exasperation, putting the phone to your ear.

“Hey Phinks,” you said, trying to stop your teeth from chattering.

“Hey y/n! You alright? You sound kinda down.”

“I’m okay, I’m just freaking cold,” you told him, grabbing the almost threadbare blanket from your bed and wrapping it around your shoulders.

“We got another mission from Boss. We’re supposed to meet at a little seaside town and we’ll be staying there for the near future. You’ll be excited to hear it’s south of where you are now.”

“It’s summer there!” you heard Shalnark yell cheerily in the background. You couldn’t hold back your own expression of excitement after hearing that, happily bouncing around your room.

“I’m leaving as soon as I can,” you practically screamed into the phone, already pulling your suitcase out and packing your limited personal items.

Phinks chuckled. “The mission won’t start for a week-”

“That’s fine! I’ll be there early. See you guys eventually!”

You hung up, throwing your cell onto your bed and hurriedly shoving the rest of your belongings in the suitcase. You then made your way to the nearest airport and reserved your spot on the first flight out of town, not wanting to deal with the winter weather longer than you had to.

A flight, a bus ride, and a long walk later, you had finally arrived in the seaside town and you couldn’t have been more relieved. You dropped your things off at the hotel and made your way out of the lobby and into the busy streets. The smell of salt air permeated your nose and you stood under the sun, your skin soaking up the rays. You were lost in your own little world and didn’t notice someone stalking up behind you until you heard their voice in your ear.

“You lucky I no want to hurt you. Better pay attention to surroundings.”

You quickly spun around, your eyes meeting the stormy ones staring back at you.

“Feitan!” you greeted, your fluffy skirt swishing in your excitement. “It’s so good to see you! What are you doing here early?”

“I no want you here by yourself. Strange things happening in this town,” he answered. “Phinks told me you come early so I did too.”

Your heart palpitated at his words, loving that he felt so protective of you.

“So you’re like my chaperone now?” you teased. His eyes narrowed but he said nothing. “Well, first place we’re going is swimsuit shopping because I am in desperate need of something to wear!”

Feitan didn’t have the chance to protest before you grabbed his hand, eagerly pulling him along to the closest clothing store. If it were anyone else manhandling him like that he would’ve killed them in a gruesome manner, but you were different. He actually liked when you took charge and proved to him that you weren’t afraid of him. His entire body felt like it was on fire every time you graced his porcelain skin with your touch and he never wanted the burning sensation to stop.

He was a masochist, after all.

You entered the store and let go of his hand, needing both hands of your own to shop efficiently. Your gaze landed on all the different swimsuits, finding your size in the pile of the ones you liked the most and holding them to your chest. Once you had a large pile of the frilliest swimsuits known to man, you went to try them on, disappearing behind the door of the dressing room. After a few moments, you reappeared in a pink two piece with white piping details.

“So? What do you think?” you asked Feitan.

Feitan was well versed in shopping with you at this point, but he had never helped you find clothing that was so… revealing. He averted his eyes from your figure, his cheeks as warm as the rising temperature outside.

“It fine,” he responded, harsher than he intended. You paid no mind, admiring yourself in the mirror.

“I think you’re right as always. It’s fine, but I can do better! I’m going to try another one!” you chirped. Feitan heard the dressing room door close and only then did he raise his head again, knowing you were out of sight. He both hated and revelled in the way you made him feel, especially while looking like that—like you were some sort of otherworldly being and he was just a lowly man. A lowly man who wanted to selfishly keep you to himself, away from the prying eyes of other men, men who weren’t nearly as despicable as he but were wholly unworthy of witnessing your beauty all the same.

“Okay, what do we think of this one?”

Your emergence from the dressing room took him out of his thoughts and into the present. Feitan didn’t say anything, he couldn’t; his tongue was a jumbled mess inside the dry desert of his mouth.

“I really like it,” you continued, turning away from the mirror in favor of looking at the man in front of you. “How about you?”

Feitan swallowed thickly, his dark robes working overtime as they concealed the sweat that was dripping from his small frame.

“It fine,” he said again, this time not as rudely. You, ever observant, took that to correctly mean he thought you looked amazing. You glimpsed at the price one last time and nodded your head.

“Perfect! This is the one. How about we go test it at the beach?”

Feitan didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know how he would be able to function if he had to bear seeing you in that swimsuit for longer than the minute you tried it on. He didn’t think all of those people should witness such a heavenly sight of you in that swimsuit. It didn’t matter, of course; whatever you wanted to do, you did it, and he would be a fool to think he could ever deny you anything you wanted anyway.

That’s how he found himself at the beach, sand flying into the folds of his ensemble. The cowl was doing a great job of keeping the pesky granules out of his mouth, but it was so unbearably hot that he had to pull it down from his mouth. You smiled softly when you saw the full extent of his face, appreciating his beauty.

“Let’s go to the water,” you suggested, trotting toward the vast blue in front of you.

“I no trust the ocean.”

You stopped, tilting your head. “Why?”

He always thought it was much too open and unpredictable for his taste, but he didn’t confess that.

“That water nasty. Contaminated.”

“Well I’m going in. It’s way too hot out here.”

“You complain when it cold, complaining when it hot. Are you ever happy?” he joked dryly. You rolled your eyes, ignoring him in favor of cooling yourself off. When your feet touched the cold water, you felt an exhilarating tingle up your spine. Wanting to adapt to the temperature quickly, you dunked your whole body in, giggling as the waves crashed into you. Feitan watched carefully from a few feet away from the shore, making sure you didn’t get swept away and he didn’t get wet. His hair and clothing were a black mass on the beach full of a rainbow of colors, yet it was the sight you were most content to look at.

You didn’t know how long you were out splashing and swimming around, more than happy to lose track of time as you enjoyed yourself. Feitan had inched closer and closer to you, the bottom of his outfit now dripping with sea water.

“Feitan, come here! I got something for you,” you called out. He shook his head, not wanting to go further into the water. You respected his wishes, dragging the long trail of seaweed behind you as you approached him.

“Close your eyes and hold out your hands. I think you’ll like this,” you told him. He raised an eyebrow but did as he was told, trusting you. You laid the seaweed across his outstretched hands. “Now open.”

He opened his eyes and looked at the seaweed curiously. “What is this?”

“Seaweed,” you explained. “It’s always at beaches like this.”

“I like it,” he said, squishing it between his fingers. A chilling grin appeared on his lips. “Reminds me of intestines.”

It’s times like those that you remember just how much of a weirdo Feitan really was, but hey, everyone in the Phantom Troupe was at least a little bit strange.

“I’m just glad you like it,” you said.

“Of course. It from you,” he said, your face warming from his praise. “I got you this too.” He dug around in his pocket, presenting you with a closed fist. “Give me hand.”

You did so as something hard landed in your palm. He had given you a beautiful shell, swirled with all sorts of colors and textures.

“Oh Feitan,” you breathed out, “it’s perfect. Thank you.”

“It no big deal,” he scoffed, trying to hide his elation that you loved his gift. You planted a lingering kiss on his cheek and he could no longer tell if he was burning up from the summer heat or from the fire that was blazing in his heart for you. Whatever it was, he was feeling emboldened today.

“You look pretty,” he said matter of factly, catching you off guard while you were studying the seashell, almost dropping the poor thing back into the ocean.

“Oh! Thank you. That means a lot coming from you,” you replied, growing shy. “You look pretty, too.”

As Feitan saw the ocean lap at your body and the water reflect like diamonds in your eyes, for once in his life he wished every day could be summer.

Taglist: @unofficialsapphire

[moonlitcelestial]

Prologue  

Beyond the Lens - Logbook Videographer!Reader x Poly OT8 Ateez

W/C 3,436

🎥 Series Masterlist 🎥

☽ Masterlist ☾

Inspiration Pictures Pinterest Board

Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction. It is not meant to assume or mock anything about Ateez or Atiny. I will be attempting to keep it as gender neutral as possible. If it comes down to it it will lean toward she/her pronouns. 

The logo in the center is mine. Please do not reuse or copy.

There are a few characteristics that will be set in stone the following will apply:

Reader’s height ~5’9” which is 69 inches or 175.26 centimeters, 

Reader has glasses, 

Reader has a gothic/dark academia style,

Reader has lots of tattoos, and

Reader has 3 cats (Maine Coons).

Here is the link to the inspiration pictures that I will be using. Here is the Pinterest board I have for this as well.

This will be updated as the story goes on. 

Warnings: cussing, possible angst, fluff, and obliviousness. 

This list will be updated as the story goes on. 

Synopsis: Capturing life’s favorite moments, that’s what you were paid to do. You did not expect things to go the way they have and end up where you have. Follow the reader in one of the biggest opportunities of their life. Being the Logbook videographer for your favorite band Ateez should be great, right? 

Author’s notes: I will warn you now, this will not be perfect by any means. I am doing this by myself and looking at things for so long makes you miss things. If you see anything please let me know. The first few chapters will be setting up the story. While I know that we all would love to meet the boys, all good things come to those who wait. 

Thank you for reading 

<3 Moonie

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Capturing life’s favorite moments, that’s what you were paid to do. The rush of being able to record some of the moments that make a person happy is one of your favorite things. The freedom of creativity is what drives you. You get to create things that inspire people, make people happy, and things people will be able to cherish for generations. You loved your job and the people that surrounded you in it.

Plugging in your camera you booted up your computer and opened the files you needed to upload your footage to. You were really excited about this project for one of your long term clients. You stepped away once you were satisfied that it was doing what it needed. You need to make your rounds for your team. It was an after outing habit you picked up after they bombarded you, on multiple occasions, checking to make sure you made it back. After letting them know you were back with the footage and that it would be uploaded shortly you headed back to your office. You waved as you passed some of the other people on separate production teams as you walked. On the way back you stopped in the kitchenette to grab some leftovers you had brought in that morning. You turned the corner into your office and noticed your boss standing over your computer staring intently at it.

“Hi, is there something I can help you with sir?” You questioned. The hair on the back of your neck raised when he stepped away from your computer and you could see the blank screen. You knew two things. One, that you plugged in your camera to begin the uploading process; and two, that you had pulled everything up before leaving to go speak to everyone so it would be further along when you got back. With the way the system worked you had to upload it to your computer before uploading it to a backup drive or to the drive that your team shared. You rushed to the computer and glared at the man who had taken a small step away as you rushed past him. You threw your lunch box down on your desk, it almost slid off with the momentum you threw it. You pushed your thick framed black glasses up and took a closer look at your computer.

“I was watching your files upload and did not like the shots. I decided that it would be in the best interest of the client and the company that you start over. It was a waste of our resources and time.” He stated in a matter of fact tone. As he was speaking you looked through all of your files double and triple checking everything. You even checked your camera, it was sitting on its dock but not plugged in. It was all gone, the files empty, and your camera wiped clean. This man decided that it would be the best decision to delete the footage you had worked so hard on, for several days. Just because he wasn’t satisfied with the small clips he had seen. Who the fuck does he think he is? Despite being the boss, which by the way was only one step above you, he barely knew anything about being a videographer and how long it took to even get the amount of footage you had been uploading. You turned around to look at the stone-faced man clenching your fists. He had been after you for small things since day one because you got hired over one of his buddies. You had been more qualified with more years under your belt. They were hiring an experienced person to be the head of a division of videographers and not some rookie who hadn’t even completely decided what he was going to do with his life. This was your last straw.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You asked, seething, your voice raised just slightly. It was just enough to instill a silence over the office. You could feel the stares of your coworkers, you didn’t care, as you stepped up to him getting close enough to see the modicum of fear in his eyes. You had never been prone to anger especially in the workplace but you clenched your fists tighter to keep from socking this man to fuck up his too perfect smug smile. Your team walked over out of each of their offices to see what was going on. All of the people in the office watched in wide eyed silence. They all could see the tells of your anger, how rigid your back was and how you clenched your fists and jaw. They had never seen you furious, so furious in fact that you were calm, it was terrifying. Generally you were one of the people who kept their cool in bad situations. Not this time. They all had known how much of an ass he was, especially to you. They knew he had gone too far this time. 

“Do you know how long it took for me to get that footage? The snippets you saw were the ones in the beginning when we were trying to figure out what style the client wanted. You just deleted several days work for something you had no fucking idea about. You don't even know half of what I do to make this damn company run smoothly. I am the head of this division. While you might be just one step above me you never had the fucking right to come near MY computer when you don’t know shit about fuck, what it takes to be in this business, and how it works.” Your voice raised little by little while you poked him in the chest. He was backed up against the edge of your u-shaped desk. Out of the corner of your eye you could see your team stepping into your office, preparing to step in if needed. All of this had added up and you were sick and fucking tired of it.

“I quit.” You declared in a loud tone. The truth was, you had been thinking about it for months, you just didn’t want to leave your people. He had increasingly gotten worse as all of the teams had gotten better under your instruction. Maybe he was worried that you would be taking his spot, who knows. You had been there for 5 years, putting up with his small petty bullshit. 

Everyone's eyes widened and some gasped, you were the person who made this place tolerable for all of them. You had become a confidant to your team and the rest of the people working on the other teams. This place had become a close knit family after you arrived, he was the stupid creepy uncle that no one liked. You turned away from the man and started to gather all of your gear, thankfully some of it was still packed, you only took out the basics to start the upload. The only thing that was here when you arrived was the company computer and one monitor, everything else tech and decor related was yours. He stood there shell shocked. He just lost the best worker in this company, and the mentor to all of the people in this office. 

“Get out! You’ve done enough fucking damage,” you said with an icy tone. He straightened at the tone of your voice.

“Come on Y/N. Let’s not get hasty, I’m sure there is a way to recover all of the files.” He stated. 

You whipped around with your camera in hand. “No. I’ve had enough. You deleted everything, it had not even been uploaded, not to my personal backup drive, not to the team drive. You even picked up MY camera and deleted it from there. You got rid of it on the only two sources it was on. I am done being your victim because I was hired over your rookie friend. It’s been five years, get over yourself.” He looked at you in shock, you smirked, he didn't know that you knew. One of your teammates, Aurora, overheard him speaking to the man you were hired over several weeks after the fact. He was being entirely too nice for it to just be a normal phone call, she investigated and found out the secret. If she didn't have a passion for being a videographer she most definitely would be a great FBI agent, like most women on a mission. After she had her evidence she came straight to you. He had started his minor inconveniences shortly thereafter. 

“Yeah I know about that, word travels fast in this office. The only reason I stuck around was because of my colleagues. I can deal with you being a dick. I can even deal with you making me redo things over and over again. Hell, even I think some of them came out better after redoing them so many times after your instructions to do so. But you took it too far this time, deleting my whole project, one for a very big client might I add. Said client being one that I brought to this office from my personal freelancing. And if you paid a lick of god damned attention to the way this office ran, you would know that the majority of the clients that we get in here are people that followed me from when I did this myself. You made your bed now you get to lie in it.” You turned back to your desk and continued packing. He stormed out of the office glaring at everyone who was watching the spectacle unfold. You could hear as your three teammates stalked after him out of your office.

Throwing your head back you let out a large sigh. You knew there were other places that would absolutely love to have you. Your extensive portfolio was something that attracted even some of the biggest companies around. Some of the time you were approached by companies asking for you to come work for them, but you were comfortable with this job. The pay was good, the people were amazing and they had the same passion you did. The only downside was the major dickhead that just walked out of your office. Your computer bag and camera bag were packed and all you had to do was collect some of the small knick knacks that were littered around the office from all of the places you travelled while working. You looked back down, adjusting your glasses and stepped over to one of the shelves. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed three of your favorite people walking back into your office.

“We quit too, you are the person that held this place together. We don’t want to be here when you aren’t here.” Aurora, your right hand said. After being here for a couple weeks you had requested to build your team, she was the first addition. She had become your right hand after kicking some ass in the interview room, in the field, and on the screen. You were very impressed with her natural talent to get some of the best shots you’ve seen. You took in the tall lanky woman, you only briefly saw her earlier. Her rib length dark hair was up in a bun with one of the knife pins you had given her for her birthday last year. She smiled at you, the skin around her blue eyes crinkling just a little. 

“Yeah, he’s had this coming for the past several months,” piped in Willow. You and her had met after you stated that you would like to hire someone who was levelheaded and could take criticism after the last person quit. They stated in their exit interview that you were too much to handle. She has been one of the best you have met, even challenging some of your views of things. You looked over to her tall curvy frame, she wasn’t nearly as tall as Aurora but she was up there. Her chocolate waist length wavy hair was flowing around her head like a halo like it normally did.  Her caramel colored eyes held something like excitement in them.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t leave sooner, there are so many better places than this shithole.” You looked at Forrest who was sporting a shit eating grin, his beautiful green eyes sparkling with mirth. He was one of the best in the industry as well, he had a unique way of going about things, and a sense of humor to rival even the best comedians. He was shorter than both women by just a fraction. His chin length copper toned hair was framing his face. He always looked amazing with his wolfcut. 

“Forrest!” Aurora scolded as she smacked his arm. “We are still in this shithole and surrounded by people that work in it, be nice.” He shrugged and rubbed his arm smiling teasingly at her. They stuck their tongues out at each other, a common occurrence when they were in the same room. You let out a small chuckle at their antics. They have always argued like siblings. 

These three had become some of your closest friends. You spent many hours together outside the office. You couldn’t have asked for a better support group or coworkers. 

“Y’know, we could start our own business and bring this one down to the ground! In fact, I have some suggestions for names. Scene Syndicate or Creative Cuts, oooh or even Lens Legends!” Forrest spouted, throwing his hands out from the center like he was picturing the logo right in front of his eyes. Willow rolled her eyes and went to sit in your chair. She had always loved that thing, even once threatening to steal it to trade hers out. You had planned on getting her one for her birthday so she wouldn’t steal yours anymore. It was one of the cross legged ones you could move around and sit in multiple positions on. You were prone to sitting at that desk for hours and that was one of the best solutions you could come up with for your aching bones when you didn’t move. That was another thing that you had to make sure you got before leaving. 

“Y'know for once I actually agree with him. That’s actually a good Idea!”  Aurora said teasingly, taking a seat on the small couch you had for team meetings or client meetings. He looked at her and pouted flopping down next to her.

“Okay, how about this,” you started. “We all gather our things from our offices, walk out of this bitch like bosses and discuss this somewhere else. I would rather not be here while discussing taking this business down. We can all go to my place and have a celebration of being free from this shithole. Sound good?” 

A chorus of cheers echoed from the three spread across your now old office. You had already considered the idea mulling it over the past few months, it might not have been the best way to get started but it was definitely something you looked forward to discussing. This was the start of a new chapter.

Timeskip

It had been six months. Six months of planning, exploring options, and making decisions. The four of you decided to actually open your own studio. It was in a decent sized building not too close but not too far from downtown Seoul. You were finally holding the keys to unlock the building for the first day. You all had put so much work into making it a home away from home. The four of you stood looking at the sign that had just gone up yesterday. Beyond the Lens Studios. After sitting down and discussing names you all narrowed it down to this one. While Forrest’s names Scene Syndicate, Creative Cuts, and Lens Legends, sounded awesome, it did not seem to scream professionalism; which was a necessity for running a business. You liked the names too, maybe they could be a nickname somewhere down the line, but not a business name. 

“We did it, it's finally our first day in our own office and not at our shitty home offices! Someone pinch me.” Forrest said with wide eyes at the sign. Aurora reached over you to pinch him hard on the arm. He yelped and started scolding her, reaching out around you to attempt to pinch her. Here we go again you thought, rolling your eyes and laughing. When you looked at Willow she was also laughing. You took a step forward and unlocked the door pulling it open for everyone. The two hooligans rushed past you chasing and swatting at each other like children. 

This was the start of something new and refreshing with some of the people you cherished the most. The majority of your original clients followed the four of you and were extremely happy you got away from the other company. You had some work to get done. You were thankful for your office space to be opened instead of your cramped basement with minimal supplies. 

You had installed a doorbell system for people to ring for you to let them in. That way you had security in such a busy city and so you knew that they were here. Maybe later you could hire a receptionist.

As you walked in the door after your teammates you took in the large waiting space unsure if you were dreaming. Nope, it was finally real after months of planning. To the right was a large u-shaped couch with a table in the middle. To keep people entertained if they had to wait was a large tv mounted on the wall with the remote in a small holder right next to it. You took a look at the left side of the room where the snack and drink bar sat along the wall right as you came in. You wanted to have an assortment of things that were specifically for the clients. If there wasn't anything specific for them you knew Forrest would get into the snacks and drinks. The door to the viewing room you had insisted on was just past the snack bar. It had a large TV mounted on the wall with a small entertainment center under it to hook up laptops. That entertainment center doubled as a drink and snack bar as well. In the center was a large table that could easily seat 15 people. You thought it would be best to have one so clients could come in and view the products. You looked ahead and slightly to the right at the glass door with your new logo on it. It had come out so well and you insisted on it for all of the doors except for the props storage, regular storage and changing rooms. You walked forward to that door and pushed it open, this was the main hallway. On the right were two changing rooms for any of the clients that needed them and the left was the door to the studio. Straight ahead there were the stairs to the second floor. You followed the noise of the other three up the stairs. To the right of the stairs is where your offices are. To the left it had a full kitchen and a small lounge area. You took a second to look over the balcony to the studio. It was the unique thing about this whole setup. Looking into the studio you smiled at the special ordered white curtains that hung on automatic unrollers. Lights were strung across the walls and right under the balcony. Straight ahead you saw the storage doors. To the right you saw the glass double doors to the enclosed patio and to the left you saw the door to the viewing room. After taking in the rest of the space, you walked to your office. It was just past the large team conference table you stepped around to get to the balcony. There stood your own personal space. You smiled at the added detail on the glass door, under the logo was your name. Forrest was in charge of the doors and logo design, he did so well capturing all of your ideas. You stepped in and smiled wider, the reality finally hitting you. You finally did it, your dreams had finally come true. Your own photography and videography business, owned with your best friends.

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Next Chapter (Chapter 1)

[maleyanderecafe]

Hi! I love your blog and reading your game recommendations (really grateful to find some hidden treasure!!!) so I want to send you a recommendation as well! Recently the demo for the game "Snow White Ashes" by endysis has been updated, and though yandere elements are so far, quite subtle, the hints are there (esp in bonus scenes). Not to mention the stunning artworks, the original soundtracks, and the lovely writing weaving one gothic horror fairytale-like story. I'd love for you to enjoy it and share with us your analysis of the game! Have a good day and once again thank you for all of your recommendations!

This game really does embody a tragic fairy tale (which, originally a lot of fairy tales were like this) inside of a visual novel. The artwork is beautiful, the story is sad and the soundtrack is very nice to listen to. The yandere actions in this game aren't as prominent on Gabriel's side (and in fact are a bit more so on the female lead's side). There are about three routes that can go about that also unlock three different extra scenes. If you are interested, you can find more at @endys.

The story starts out with a woman walking in the cold forest. She seems to be out luring someone to her to kill them, as evidenced by the knife in her pocket. She decides to either draw blood or sing to lure them out, both of which brings out a man dressed in white to come to her aid. Seeing that the woman is cold, he offers to let her stay at his place as the nearest town is too far away. She graciously accepts his help and she brings her into a cabin in the woods. As they walk, they ask for each others names. The MC's name is Michelle and the man introduces himself as Gabriel. She seems to want to expose Gabriel for the monster he is, though so far he doesn't seem to be at all. The two converse, talking about the Mist Queen, a mystic person who seems to be someone inhumane terrorizing the town. While talking she mentions a family that she was accepted into, though now it no longer is something that exists. We learn that while he is a hunter now, he used to be a doctor and was married happily for a long while until the plague happened or we learn about how he and his wife met, with him tending to her wounds after she fell. Michelle then talks about either her fondness of singing or her fondness of sewing. They end up getting to the cottage after they hear some wolves.

Upon going to the cottage, the two are about to make out when Gabriel ends up pulling out the weapon from Michelle's clothes. He seems to know that she's lying to him about her name and identity. She cannot lie to him and reveals that she is indeed the Mist Queen, aka, Gabriel's former wife. She bites back at him, asking why he was bringing back girls to his cottage, where he retorts that he knew who she was the entire time. Gabriel retorts that she has taken a new body accusing her of murdering a young girl, when Michelle reveals that she only took the body of a girl who was already dead. She continues stating that the girl (and many others) have been found dead, likely because of one of their kind, accusing him of killing them. Gabriel tells her, (Selene is her true name) that he wouldn't do that and that he's been loyal to her for centuries, also revealing that she was the one who made him immortal like her. Gabriel leaves to see if what Selene said is true, which leaves her alone in the cabin. She can either decide to stay or leave, and if she stays, she has the chance to destroy his lyre, which if she does, will cause her to feel immense regret afterwards. Even if she leaves, she will end up being saved by Gabriel after she is almost attacked by wolves. After looking around, she ends up finally resting, which leads to a dream about her past.

She first has nightmare about the two girl's skin that she stole, Myia, and the one where she first met Gabriel and the one she is wearing now, Calliope. We see a flashback of when she first met Gabriel. Having gotten a new body by chance, instead of eating it, she decides to pretend to be her and live in the village. She later attempts to hunt for food, but ends up getting hurt, causing the person she was hunting, Gabriel to help her. Although she is pretty annoyed at his help, she ends up accepting it nevertheless, with Gabriel even carrying her back to the village. As time goes on, the two of them grow fonder of each other, until Gabriel ends up proposing to her. Initially she refuses, afraid that he will eventually find out who she is and will eventually outlive him. However, despite all of this, knowing that she is not actually the girl whos skin she wears, she ends up accepting and living with him as his wife in the village. Later on, Gabriel ends up losing one of his patients during childbirth and the two end up adopting her surviving son. Selene ends up making a doll for her new adopted son, with Gabriel impressed by her needlework. As time goes by and Gabriel ages, Selene's body does not, causing rumors to spread across her village. This leads to a fight with her and Gabriel as she feels incredible guilt that he will eventually die leaving her behind while she lives as essentially a zombie. As they resolve the fight, Gabriel promises to never leave her side until his death. A few years later, a plague starts to form in town. Gabriel tries to make Selene and their son leave so they won't get infected, while he wants to stay behind and do his job as a doctor. However, as she wants to be by his side, she sends her son off to safety while she stays behind with her husband. As time goes by, Gabriel gets sicker and sicker, even losing his arm, having Selene chop it off for him. Slowly he begins to die, and Selene's body also starts to deteriorate, and to keep him alive, Selene finds dead bodies and sews parts of them back onto Gabriel as his body decays. After this, she ends up giving some of her blood to him, causing him to live again. Gabriel initially doesn't recognize her as she's had to change bodies, but also is equally as frightened by his new body. Then afterwards the two live together for a bit before separating for thirty years. After the two of them wander in isolation, Gabriel returns to Selene, devoting himself to her as he cannot bear the isolation any longer, only asking for her to kill him if he goes mad for blood.

Upon waking up, she seems worried that she might have to kill him to keep the promise she made to him. She finds that Gabriel had returned, even making her food in return. Gabriel tells her that he indeed saw the things that she spoke of, and we see that he even kept one of the pieces of clothes she made him. After being fed (or not) the soup that he made. The two argue for a bit about the entire seducing thing in the beginning, with Gabriel being hesitant because she's not in the original body where they first met. They hear a knock at the door and upon opening it, see the body of Myia talking to Gabriel about how he missed her and how she missed him.

There are three extra scenes. I'll go from the first one Lullaby to the last one, Monsters. These are all from Gabriel's point of view, likely something that happens while she sleeps.

In Lullaby, we see that he is surprised to see her wear another skin. He seems to have a bit of body dysmorphia, not even recognizing his new hand despite everything, thus wearing the gloves he always does. He seems to have a lot of self loathing and ends up humming a lullaby to her at the end.

In Suffering, Gabriel wonders about how his wife is feeling, desperately wanting to touch her face but not allowing himself to. He doesn't want leave her side or have anyone take his place. It seems he believes he has to stay by her side no matter what, and that he needs her more than anything. This is probably the extra that encapsulates his more yandere nature in a more clingy manner.

In Monster, Gabriel seems to find it weird that his wife was able to live like this for so long. He is especially angry in this one, wondering if she knows how easy it would be for him to kill her as she sleeps. This extra is the one that is the most possessive.

The story itself is rather melancholy in tone, much like the original Grimms Fairy Tales, with a lot of inspiration seemingly being taken from things like Snow White and the Ice Queen, which you can kind of tell from the title. The artwork is extremely beautiful with moving parts of the backgrounds like leaves and snow, and there is a feeling of bitterness between Selene and Gabriel despite the love they clearly have for each other. The work is written in a more fanciful tone, and has a lot of mourning on Selene's part as she is essentially an immortal zombie/vampire- never really truly quite human and never really comfortable in the skin she's in (quite literally). The music is lovely too, very quiet but impactful which really gives the whole vibe of the game being a more sad retelling of a story.

Both Gabriel and Selene have a sort of attachment with each other and both of them are obsessed/possessive with each other. On Selene's part, while she did try to break away from Gabriel when they first met, she wasn't able to, and when she did get the happy life as a human, she very desperately didn't want to let go of it, claiming Gabriel and their adopted son as hers. In the backstory especially we do see that she internally is very possessive over Gabriel, considering this is the first time she's properly fallen in love with someone and is fully aware that she can't live this life forever. We also see this in the current time with Selene accusing Gabriel of luring other women into his cottage, even though he knew it was her in the first place. Despite this though, we can see where this idea comes from, as Selene is always pretending to be someone else as she's always in someone else's skin, and immortal, meaning that she can never fully enjoy a human life as herself. She knows that Gabriel will likely die one day and she fears being alone again, and losing the person she loves. On both sides there is a strong attachment with each other. Gabriel, even before turned in the creature that Selene was already devoting his life to be with her, loyal to the very end of his life. And even after when Selene turns him, he returns after many years to devote himself once again, wanting to stay by her side forever, much like the knight like family he was raised in. We see this more in the extra stories where we see Gabriel's point of view, seeing that he's obsessed with being with her because he has nothing else and that she is his, though we also see that it is part of a mix of other emotions such as his fear of being lonely and his feelings of dysmorphia due to the body parts stitched onto him. He still maintains his strong loyalty to Selene, but it is also filled with anger as she turned him against his will, even if it was in an attempt to save his life from disease.

I'm not really sure who this new person that comes in at the end is. She very clearly is using the body of when Selene and Gabriel first met and knows about their relationship. It is very likely another one of their species, though why she seems to specifically be targeting these two is still a mystery. We're also not sure who or what is causing the death of the many maidens, so it could actually be her depending on how long this story is. It's a good mystery and cliffhanger that invests you in wanting more.

But overall, a pretty beautiful game. The yandere moments are definitely much more muted and I'd even argue that currently Selene has more yandere moments than Gabriel mostly due to her feelings in the past, but it is nice to see a couple that is loyal to each other, even if they have bitter feelings towards each other. A complicated thing. If you are interested, please try it out.

[writing-for-life]

The Self-Love, Sex and Pursuit of the Helm Novels

Part 2: Bully for You—An Unhinged Interlude

Okay, I’ve spent the whole @sandman-rarepair-fest with tragic relationships, poetry and being serious.

And while this relationship is also… tragic, it’s neither poetic nor to be taken seriously, although a small group of us are fully committed to the cause: Behold, the crack ship! Morpheus x The Helm! For the Monsterfucker prompt.

(It’s highly advisable to read part one first, but they can sort of exist independently. Just not as well 🤣)

Bully For You: An Unhinged Interlude (2321 words) by Writing-for-Life Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022), The Sandman (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Characters: Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, Desire of the Endless, The Helm (The Sandman) Additional Tags: I Blame Tumblr, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Or Is It?, Muhulhu, Drat! A HelmLord Story, Murphy and his Cool Hat, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Swearing, Masturbation, Anal Something, Because I have no clue what they are doing honestly, helm fucking, Monsterfucking of sorts, It's a Dream of a Thousand Cats Situation, At least a thousand fanfic writers were thinking of the same thing, but he actually enjoyed it, although he would never admit to it, Dream and the Helm finally get it on, About Time, tags what tags they make no sense, don't get your hopes up, this is not really smut, it has all the marks of being explicit, but somehow it's really not Series: Part 2 of The Self-Love, Sex and Pursuit of the Helm Novels: A Tragicomedy in Three Movements Summary:

Where we witness how the Lord of Dreams loses his bearings (no, not those ones), and even Desire needs a stiff drink…

If you always wanted to know what's so special about Dream's relationship with his Helm (capital H on occasion), this might provide some answers. Or raise more questions than you ever dared to ask...

Excerpt:

Desire had felt… things for a short while but shrugged the sensations off. Until they became impossible to ignore. Because he wanted something without their doing (although what comes first, or who, was sometimes hard to tell, but not to get lost in details at this point, dear reader). In lieu of ridiculous desires like “something beyond my function, blah blah”, it would usually be shaped like a woman. Since Desire had given him Killalla (and maybe, just maybe, taken her away again, which still made them chuckle), he had developed a bit of a kink for female-shaped mortals. Well, they hadn’t all been mortal, but the “female-shaped” still stood. And because of the mere fact that their brother was so painfully strait-laced (we suggest the spelling “straight-laced” here, dear reader), it came as a bit of a surprise to feel those decidedly different vibes. Dream wanted something. But it wasn’t a woman, or anything remotely female-shaped. It was…

What the heck was it?

Desire concentrated really hard.

It seemed to be something forged in the fever dream of a blacksmith who took his inspiration from a lobster and a nightmare. Something otherworldly, something with a spine like the tail of a crustacean. Truly, if a lobster decided to pursue a career in gothic architecture and at the same time became some sort of… headgear, it would probably look like this.

Desire first rolled their eyes but then felt their breath catching. “It’s his fucking helm,” they muttered. “Please give me a break. He wants to fuck his helm…”

Brother Dream, master of the subconscious, running his hand tenderly, with a slight shake, over the spine of that ludicrous thing. Desire laughed out loud, but the laugh was short-lived, because things began to unravel. Rapidly…

Read the rest here (otherwise I have to add a content label 🤣)

[emeritusemeritus]

Vulnera Sanentur [Weasley twins x reader]

Part 3

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Title: Vulnera Sanentur

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader x George Weasley {established relationship}

Timeline: DH1- set during the battle of the seven potters. Canon and certain plot points have been altered for the needs of the story.

Summary: The battle of the seven Potters throws your world into chaos when one of your boyfriend’s is cursed. As Snape’s ex-potions assistant and previous protégée, you recognise the inflicted curse immediately and demand answers from your mentor.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of war and Voldy, descriptions of injury and blood, descriptive smut, p in v sex, shower sex, tension. Outside sex. Semi public sex. None sexual nudity. Crying. Snape has a soft spot for reader. Arguments. Probably some cursing. Mentions of nightmares. Reader is part of the Order of the Phoenix. Mentions of death (Dumbledore). Mentions of Tonks’ pregnancy. Not spellchecked nor beta read, we die like Madeye.

With a loud clack you were gone and appeared only moments later in a small, deserted park, surrounded by metal railings and vacant benches, knowing you had to be safe and not go straight to your destination. You set off on your little walk and in no time at all you were facing Grimmauld Place. With a flourish of you wand and a wordless charm, the building began to rumble and pull back, sliding out between the next door residences that were totally black in the dead of night until number 12 was clearly visible.

"Homenum revelio," you cast as you walked through the door, looking down at the slightly illuminated hallway, the dark walls and grotesquely gothic architecture making you feel a little more than uneasy but you couldn't allow yourself to be frightened now. Nothing happened from your spell and you realised you were entirely alone in the property, an sigh of relief falling from your lips at the revelation.

"Lumos," you said quietly as you walked deeper into the safe house, illuminated wand guiding your way, walking directly up the creaking staircase towards the third room on the right, the bedroom you'd been sharing with Fred and George only a year ago. You prayed it was still here.

You didn't divert from your path and immediately crouched down towards the small round rug in the centre of the room as you entered your old bedroom and peeled back the rug to check the floorboards beneath it. Knocking three times, then two, and saying a muffled 'revelio', you watched as the floorboard popped up out of its socket just as it had been enchanted to do. You pulled the floorboard away and smirked to yourself as you saw the very thing you'd hidden all that time ago, still in perfect condition. The marauders map.

During your last year at Hogwarts, Harry had spent an agonising amount of time following Draco on the map, so much so that it was becoming detrimental to his school work, his sleep and his life. You and Hermione had both decided to remove the map from his possession, knowing the risks that the map held if it were to get into the wrong hands and so you'd each vowed to hide the map with only the pair of you knowing it's hiding place.

Pulling the map from its confines, you uttered the words you'd heard Fred and George say so many times before and right in front of your eyes the words appeared, brown ink bleeding onto the page.

I solemnly swear I am up to no good.

It took mere seconds for you to locate exactly what you were looking for, spotting the singular name on the map exactly where you'd predicted it to be. The climax of your plan could now take place.

You realised that this whole step of the plan could have been avoided but you wanted to make sure that the figure you followed on the map was exactly where you'd planned them to be, no doubt slipping into your determination.

"Mischief managed," you uttered, tapping it once with your wand and the writing began to fade away, leaving the parchment bare once again. You quickly stuffed it into the hole and replaced the floorboard, uttering the enchantment you'd placed upon it and exited the house completely. As you left, the creaking of the metal and rumble of the bricks faded into the background as the house fought to conceal itself once again.

You walked quickly back to the park and with a quick glance around to determine no one was around, you disapparated straight to your next destination.

Hogsmeade was notoriously cold early in the morning, in fact you'd called it the coldest place in the U.K. numerous times over the years and as your feet landed on the dewy ground, you had to hold back a shiver. Your stomach lurched as you landed, the multiple apparitions and disapparitions taking their toll on your body but you pressed on, wanting to get this over with.

You'd apparated just outside the border of the anti-disapparation jinx that was placed upon Hogwarts and the surrounding grounds, knowing the range of the jinx from a side along apparition you'd undertaken with Snape two years ago to collect ingredients for his personal store.

You trudged around a deserted Hogsmeade in the darkness using only your memory to guide you and appeared around the back of the only illuminated shop in the entire village; Honeydukes.

They were notorious for baking their homemade treats overnight, prepared fresh for the morning trade the next day. Fred had told you a while back that all their deliveries were made in the early morning as to have everything on hand for the busy morning rush; something he'd seen firsthand when him and George had been to visit a vacant unit in Hogsmeade after store close back when they considered expanding before putting that plan on hold. All it would take was a carefully timed entry through the small cellar door and you'd be on your way to your last destination. As you crouched in the darkness, concealed by the shadows of the nearby shops, you mentally wished that you'd managed to acquire Harry's invisibility cloak for your mission but there was no going back now.

As one worker excited the back door, leaving it swung right open, you ran in and rounded the corner, running straight down the back stairs that lead to the cellar, a route you'd taken many times with your boyfriends in your school years. With a quick look around, you lifted the slab and slipped into the passageway, carefully replacing the stone slab behind you. You breathed out a large breath and cast a light spell so that you could see, quickly making your way through the hidden passage that led to Hogwarts.

It was freezing and damp in the passageway and you briefly pined for the company of your boyfriends as you walked the long distance towards the castle. You took the time to consider how you were going to do this but quickly put it out of your mind, realising that your anger was your greatest weapon in this instance.

You finally appeared at the alcove behind the one eyed witch statue and expertly made your way around it like you had many times before, finding yourself in the deserted great staircase. Only once you'd breached the castle did the overwhelming sense of danger register with you. If Snape had turned in his allegiance, you could be in serious danger, coming face to face with a death eater, the same one that you knew had cursed your boyfriend so severely. The very thought of George lay there covered in his own blood and looking so gravely ill made the adrenaline inside you surge and suddenly you didn't feel fear anymore.

You marched directly over to the headmaster's tower, reaching the concealed gargoyle staircase that led to Dumbledore's office, or rather Snape's office now.

"Sherbet lemon," you said, expecting the staircase to appear but the Gargoyle you had seemed to disrupt from slumber suddenly cursed you out for getting it wrong. You hadn't considered that Snape would change the password, though of course it made sense.

"But, Dumbledore," you began to argue until falling silent only a moment later as the staircase opened up and slowly unfurled, making you momentarily frown in confusion.

Taking a deep breath, you ascended the moving stone staircase until you were met with the closed door to the office. You considered knocking, but thought better of it and burst through the doors, directly facing the man who had betrayed your trust.

He was sat at his desk, eyes wide open as he looks upon the indignant intrusion, first with a glare of complete outrage before it transformed into confusion and from what you could see, guilt, as he realised it was you that had stormed into his office.

It was the first time you'd seen him since the news that he had killed Dumbledore that night on the astronomy tower had spread around members of the order, though it was not known to the general public. Years of bonding and working closely together, of building something that could be described as friendship now felt fragmented and broken as you stepped into the office, your anger consuming you at his attack on George.

"Y/n," he says, rising from his seat, casting aside the book he'd been reading on the desk without thought.

"Save it," you spat out, your fury building within you as you slammed the door behind you closed with a resounding bang. You looked at him in pure disgust, with such hatred in your eyes that you could almost see his shoulders sagging under the force of your gaze. Clearly he had not expected you, nor had he expected to be on the receiving end of your fury.

"How could you?" You said, already raising your voice as the emotion overwhelms you, the memories from the formative years of you working hard under his initial harsh scrutiny, the slightly odd but important bond you'd formed, your important role working as his assistant and the time you'd shared together. "I trusted you!"

"Then you are a fool," he says quickly with a cold, dismissive tone, averting his gaze from you.

"Don't play that with me, you should know it doesn't work headmaster," you retort warningly, the last word dripping from your mouth with loaded sarcastic aggression.

You'd been used to his cold and harsh exterior, had seen it weaponised and utilised for his benefit many times before but you knew the real Snape, the intelligent and warm man underneath.

He turns and casts a few spells with a flourish of his wand that leads you to believe they are strong silencing charms as a translucent barrier forms around the room, as if keeping your conversation isolated.

"I had to watch the man I love be carried in, completely limp and haemorrhaging blood knowing there it was you that cursed him. He could have died Severus!"

"You have no proof it was me-" he begins to say, still keeping his hardened resolve, deflecting your accusations but it only infuriates you more, tears beginning to well in your eyes as the emotions overcome you completely as you interrupt his pathetic denial.

"No? I was there that night with you and Draco, remember?" You say hatefully, "I saw how that curse slashed Draco apart, the very same curse Harry found in your own copy of advanced potion making,

Sectumsempra."

For the first time since entering his office, Snape turned to look at you in shock, realising now that you knew all along. "You really believe the person that has worked with you closely and tirelessly over the years would fail to recognise your handwriting?"

He falls silent as he takes in your words, which prompts you to continue your verbal assassination.

"I saw the very same slash marks on George's head, I knew that curse could only have come from you. Funny how you knew exactly what incantation to use to heal the marks when it was an entirely unheard of curse! Do I mean that little to you that you'd go so far as to curse the ear off the man I love?! I thought we were... friends." A singular tear fell from your eye as the anguish inside you disappeared, leaving only sadness and betrayal.

He remains silent for a moment and you prepare yourself to walk out, realising this was a pointless and fruitless endeavour. Just as you turn to walk away, his quiet voice cuts through the silent, tension filled room, pausing your movement. It appears that your words and willingness to leave had broken his resolve, the truth finally coming out.

"It was never meant for George," he says quietly, not meeting your eyes. "There's so much of this you do not and cannot know but you must understand it was never my intention to hurt him, it was a miscalculation in logistics. I saw a masked one aim at Lupin and Weasley and I retaliated in kind, but it all moved so fast, the curse bounded towards him and I was powerless to stop it."

He turns to you then, looking directly into your eyes with a sadness that seemed to reach his soul.

"And to answer your question, your friendship means everything to me, you mean very much to me."

"Severus," you breath out, listening to his explanation and finding yourself believing him, though you tried to resist.

"You've always overlooked my predisposition for life's negativity, shown me kindness that no one else has in a very long time, like a beacon of goodness in what seems a lifetime of darkness and solitude. I value our friendship a great deal."

He looks up at you once again, focusing his complete attention on you.

"I'm sorry that George was hurt, it was very much never my intention. How is he?"

"Alive," you say, feeling suddenly exhausted by the journey and your emotions as you perch yourself on the edge of the chair. He nods solemnly just once, eyes lingering over you as an awkward silence falls between you both. There's so much that isn't said between you, of friendship and war and questions of loyalty, but all of those go unsaid.

"You're no longer on our side are you?" You said quietly after a moment, slowly looking up into his emotion filled eyes as you keep your tone neutral and unaccusing. You'd surmised as much, though you were loathe to actually believe it even after the events of the previous day which you assumed could only have been down to him. He had leaked the information to Voldemort, you were now sure if it. Mundungus might have had questionable morals but he wasn't brave enough to supply the death eaters with information, he'd have been too cowardly, which only left the one order member that wasn't present or assisting with the removal of Harry.

He blinks slowly and you can almost physically see him deflate as he looks into your eyes with a piercing intensity, not wanting to answer your question.

"I should go," you say, looking at the patterns in the stone floor. You don't hear a reply but you can envision him nodding in reply and so you move to stand, straightening out your jacket.

"Use the floo, Hogsmeade is no longer safe if not accompanied," he says, gesturing vaguely towards the fireplace in the corner. With a wave of his hand, the fireplace immediately ignites into green tinted flames, ready for your exit.

"Y/n," Severus says, stepping closer to you with uncharacteristic hesitation before you can step into the fire. He looks plagued, like he wants to say so much but can't for whatever reason.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way, I hope one day you will understand and find it in yourself to forgive me."

You're briefly taken aback by his words, finally realising that from this point onwards you would no longer have the relationship you had always had, you'd be natural enemies on either side of a budding war. His words felt like a final goodbye and you bit the inside of your cheek to prevent tears from forming in your eyes once again.

"I hope you can forgive yourself, and I don't just mean for George. I hope one day you realise that you're a good man and finally see yourself the same way I have always seen you. Goodbye Severus."

Your eyes remain locked on each other for a few moments, sad eyes meeting as you part ways, both physically and emotionally. You take a handful of floo powder and with one last look at your now ex-friend, you speak loudly and clearly into the fire, 'Diagonal Alley' before the fire consumed you and you're transported to the Leaky Cauldron, just as you had envisioned in your mind, knowing their fireplace would be one of the few open for all use even at this time of night, or rather early morning. You exit the deserted Inn and exited onto the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley, walking absently until you were directly outside your boyfriends' shop.

You wheezed and caught your breath as you stood looking up at the shop, guilt niggling at you as you thought of how you couldn't go straight to the Burrow, sensing that it would give Snape the advantage of knowledge that you could no longer entrust him with, if he hadn't known already.

You walked to the door of the shop and cast the charm to unlock the door, the specific spell that Fred had created that was specific to this lock and acted as an anti-unlocking charm that couldn't be penetrated by alohamora or even the more creative unlocking spells. Once inside, you pointed your wand at the lock and cast the charm to lock the door before closing your eyes and with tired determination, you climbed the stairs until you reached the flat you lived in upstairs with Fred and George.

Fred had cast a anti-apparition jinx in the shop and the surrounding areas that they owned as a precaution and right at this moment you were mentally cursing his efforts, feeling exhausted, though apparating your current state would be incredibly dangerous anyway, the tiredness in your body and mind would most likely have gotten you splinched.

You entered your flat and immediately grabbed a glass of water, taking a seat at the kitchen table, feeling suddenly very alone without the usual company of one or both of your loves, the flat seeming empty and without life. You needed to get back before sunrise and you maybe only had an hour before the sun would begin to peak over the lowest points on the horizon so you quickly went into the bathroom to relieve yourself and wash your face, changing your clothes on the way back through.

In your note to the twins, you'd lied and stated that you needed something from home and would be nipping back to get it so you moved a couple of things around on the coffee table and kitchen, as if you'd been searching for something before walking to the bedroom you all shared and pulled out your jewellery box, reaching for the locket they had bought you on your 17th birthday. Inside was a picture of each of them, Fred on the left and George on the right you'd taken at the Yule ball all those years ago.

You'd realised during the wait for the order to return that you'd forgotten to pack it and you knew the twins wouldn't question you going back for it, knowing how sentimental you were about this particular piece, making it the perfect rouse.

Stepping towards the fire, you yawned and cast one last spell to connect the floo, seeing green flames once again rising. You thought about Severus and felt a pang of sadness hit you but you carried on regardless, feeling more than ready to crawl into bed with your boyfriends again.

Hagrid, still sleeping soundly on the floor, no doubt knocked out by his firewhiskey intake, didn't even flinch as the flames surged in the fireplace as you returned to the Burrow, feeling exhausted. Your confrontation with Snape had been tiresome but cathartic and though there was so much that went unsaid, you were pleased overall with how things had gone. You were exhausted in both body and mind but somehow you didn't feel tired, at least not tired enough to sleep. You considered making a cup of tea but with another look at a snoring Hagrid, you decided it was best not to.

You trudged up the staircase, mindfully stepping in a perfected sequence that avoided all the creaking steps and noisy floorboards until you reached the door to your boyfriends' room. You gently twisted the door handle and crept inside the mostly dark room, the essence of first light creeping in over the hills.

Immediately, you felt yourself engulfed into a large figure and had to hold back a scream at the sudden movement, realising only when the voice whisper yelled at you that it was Fred.

"Where the bloody hell have you been?" He asks in a harsh whisper and you freeze, realising with one single glance at his face that you'd never seen him look so worried before.

"Had to get my necklace," you said, your gut dropping as you lied to the man you loved, feeling more than uneasy about it. To solidify your lie, you reached into your pocket and pulled out your locket to show him. He visibly took a deep breath and pulled you deep into his chest.

"Next time let me go with you, I was so worried," he says, holding you tightly in his arms. You simply nodded and allowed yourself to melt into his embrace. "He woke up, asked for you."

Suddenly your guilt felt immeasurable, not being here for your other love. "Said you'd nipped to help mum, didn't want him worrying too."

"I'm sorry Freddie," you said with full honesty, feeling ashamed.

"You're back now," he says, stroking your back, keeping you pressed into him. "You must be tired."

"Not really," you admitted. Exhausted and weary yes but you could sleep if you were paid to.

"Want to go to our spot? He'll be knocked out for a few hours now, mum topped him up with some sleeping potion," he says, gesturing towards George who is evidentially deep asleep, mouth hanging wide open and breathing deeply and steadily from what you can see over Fred's wide shoulders.

"Lead the way Weasley," you say with a smile and he steps out of the room towards the top of the staircase and with two perfectly synchronised cracks, you apparate to the spot in the forest behind the burrow you'd claimed as your own years ago.

He took your hand as soon as you'd landed and lead you further into the clearing, stopping only briefly to help you over the little wooden stump and logs that created a barrier around your spot. You each sit around the fire that Fred starts with a flourish of his wand, sitting on the larger logs around it.

"I want to feel normal again," he says quietly a little later on as you sit in silence, Fred's wand enchanting some of flames to idly play with them as you watched the sun very slowly begin to creep higher in the sky, though it was hidden by the vast number of trees around you, keeping you mostly in the dark. You turn to him with concern, seeing his eyes blankly staring at the fire, his face expressionless.

"Seeing George like that, then waking up without you there, I've never felt so lost in my life," he says.

"Freddie," you begin to apologise, feeling overwhelmed by guilt again until he shakes his head.

"I'm just so used to always having one of you there, if not both. It's never been just me, always been 'the twins' or Gred and Forge and then you came along and we became a three. For the first time tonight I had a glimpse of being alone, completely alone without you both and it was unbearable."

"You're not alone, me and George will always be there," you say, shuffling closer to him to take his hand.

"We don't know what will happen, if something happens in the war and I lose you both," he begins to say.

"Then we'll still always be with you," you say firmly, squeezing his hand to force him to look up at you which he does.

He gazes at you for what seems like forever, as if he's searching your face for something before he leans in and kisses you with surprising intensity. You kiss him back just as feverishly, your body igniting under his touch as his hand creeps up into your hair to hold you to him. His tongue licks into your mouth and massages your own tongue as his other hand begin to wander.

"I need to feel you," he says breathlessly and desperately against your lips, never quite pulling away from you, "please sweetheart, let me feel you here with me."

"Freddie, yes," you say in reply, just as breathless as he. You sense a primal need in his desperate plea and can't deny him, nor did you want to. Much to how open you had both been during your shower earlier, you couldn't help but feel the pure connection between the two of you, the desperate need for comfort in the way only you could provide.

He blindly reached for his wand, still fixed to your lips and cast a spell against your lips that made a large blanket appear, a spell you recognised him creating a few years back when you'd pulled him right here to this spot for some alone time.

The past 24 hours had been a whirlwind of emotion, loss and pain. When George had been cursed, he became your primary focus and after he was healed, you'd been hell bent on getting answers if not revenge from your ex-friend and mentor, overlooking Fred and the torment you'd endured having to wait for his return, knowing he was in danger too.

You wrapped yourself around eachother, a tangle of passionate, sloppy kisses and wandering hands as you desperately clawed at each others clothes, needing to feel each other's warm skin and beating heart against your own.

Fred ripped off your shirt and wasted no time in lifting your bra up above your breasts so that he could bend down and suck on them, both of you finding comfort in the sensation of his lips sucking at your nipples as he briefly fiddled with the clasp before throwing the garment to one side, never once pausing his assault of your sensitive nipples. You had already tore away his sleep shirt and then pulled at his pyjama bottoms to feel him naked beside you. Your jeans were shimmied off somewhere along the way and your panties were physically ripped from your body at the waistband and thrown into the distance, leaving the both of you completely bare.

"Freddie, need you, don't make me wait," you said breathlessly, pulling away from his ravishing lips, feeling them connect to your neck almost as soon as you'd began talking.

"But," he begins to protest, his hand creeping down between your thighs to test how ready you were for him, not wanting to hurt you.

"I'm ready, fuck please I need you," you begged, opening your legs further as if to beckon him to you. You heard him groan as your words, capturing your nipple between his lips once more as he shifts to move between your legs, his muscular arms bulging either side of your head as he shifts into position, needing to see your face. He kisses you again and you feel the evidence of his arousal pressing into the crease of your groin before he pulls back to adjust himself and take hold of his cock with one hand and slides into you slowly and carefully. You both erupt in moans as you feel him sink into you, not stopping until you were taking nearly every inch of his thickness.

"Fuck, y/n," he groans, slowly pulling out of you before crashing his hips back into yours, making you throw your head back in pure pleasure, feeling his cock stretching you out and filling you in all the right ways. His eyes are clenched tightly shut as his mouth opens on its own accord as he begins to rock back and forth into you, building up to a slow but forceful rhythm.

Your legs wrap around his hips as your hand begin to grab at his wide shoulders, pulling him further into you as he reaches down to kiss you passionately once again. His hips speed up and he finally gives you what you want, both of you moaning once again at the change of angle, feeling him hit the deepest parts of you which makes you gasp and moan out his name.

It's primal and desperate as your bodies meld together, never really pulling apart even as his hips rock in and out of you with pure need. Neither of you can hold back your cries of pleasure, moaning each other's name and verbal curses echoing through the woods as he pounds into you. Suddenly needing something new, you place your hands on his chest and as he pauses his rhythm, you force him into his back and begin to ride him with all the strength you have left over. His big hands immediately lock onto your hips, guiding you and helping with your movements as he looks up at you with adoration in his eyes and mouth agape. His eyes are fixed onto your bouncing breasts and you make no move to conceal yourself as you bounce on his cock, hips bucking wildly and your hair falling over your shoulders. You steady yourself on his thighs as you lean back, giving him the perfect view of your bodies meeting and his cock disappearing in and out of you and he roars with arousal at the sight, hips thrusting upwards to fuck up into you as you both near your end.

Suddenly, his right hand reaches up to cup the back of your neck and he forcefully pulls you down onto him to kiss you again, sloppy kisses and teasing tongues as you lay chest to chest, his hips pounding into now. His other hand grins your hip and he lets out a loud groan against your lips as you feel him cumming. You're powerless to move as he holds you in place, fucking up into you with abandon and the sensation of him overpowering you hurtles you towards your own finish, your walls squeezing his twitching cock as you cum together, feeling his warm seed flood you from the inside.

As your orgasm ebbs away, the tingling sensation fading slowly, the world around you seemed to fade back into your conscious again. You looked down at Fred and saw him lay with his eyes closed, a peaceful look on his face with just the hint of a smirk tugging at the left side of his lips as his hands caressed your skin where he'd been holding you. His eyes slowly fluttered open a moment later and he looked up at you with love in his eyes, a look that you were certain was mirrored in your own.

You lifted your hips gently and his softening cock slipped out of you, both of you groaning in sensitivity at the sensation as you felt some of his load slipping out of you with the movement.

"I needed that," you half chuckled as you bent down and rested your head on his shoulder, legs extending either side of him so that you were essentially lay on top of him, which he was only happy to accommodate.

"Me too princess," he smirks, running his hand over your naked back. "We should get dressed, don't want you getting cold."

You dressed quickly with whatever clothes had survived your mass, frantic scrummage earlier. Fred ended up having to give you his sleep shirt as he'd literally ripped your T-shirt apart and your jeans chafed your bum uncomfortably as your panties were also beyond repair, leaving you without.

The sun had risen almost completely now, noticing as soon as you walked out of the tree line and you had no doubt that Molly would be up soon, delegating chores to every unsuspecting resident and guest. You wanted to be back with George, hopefully before he woke and so you both walked back and crept into the house, walking tiredly towards the twins bedroom where George was still sound asleep.

You took a moment to look at him, smiling and grimacing briefly as you saw the little puddle of drool that had formed on his pillow and the little snores he was omitting.

"I'll tell mum you've been brewing some healing potion all night," Fred says as you slip off your jeans, leaving you in just Freddie's T-shirt as you both slip into the small bed beside George's as Fred tucks the duvet around you both and pulls you into him so that you can cuddle into his chest. "At least you'll get some more sleep."

"Thank you Freddie, love you," you say sleepily, true tiredness hitting you immediately as you snuggled down into the soft covers.

"I love you too princess, so much," he says with a kiss to your head before your eyes close and you cuddle down into him, feeling sleep already taking over you.

Next

[shadowsandlint]

2024 Fic Writer End of Year Roundup

Answer and then tag three or more creators to keep the game going!

Oh, this has taken me some time. Thank you to everyone who's tagged me in their roundups, it has really warmed this shadowed, linty heart of mine ❤️

1. How many words did you publish on AO3 in 2024?

100,802!! I found out juust before the new year that I was missing 6000 words from a 100 000, and as luck would have it, I had a chapter for my secret santa fic that was just that long. Marvelous @neciebee stepped up as beta to help me finish it in time.

2. How many fics did you complete this year?

“Completed” is a bit of a complicated term, because technically it’s four, but I have continuations in the works for a couple. 

3. How many in progress or ongoing fics did you start this year?

On Ao3 it looks like I only have the one in progress that was started this year (WWUitS was started on the tail end of 2023), but I have four more docs that I’ve worked on from time to time. 

4. What was your favorite thing you wrote?

Autumn Winds Across the Sea continues to be my favorite in its entirety. An old poet took over my fingers while I wrote that. But there are also parts of Words We Use in the Shadows that I’m really proud of and happy with. For instance the poem-turned-song, and the confrontation and ensuing angst, but also the literary references throughout. Thanks to it its patron saint Marcel Proust ❤️

5. What piece was your most experimental or different from your usual style?

It’s probably Autumn Winds! I used aaall the adjectives and synonyms, and cosplayed as a Bronte sister while writing, so the result is quite gothic and picturesque. 

6. Did any fics surprise you - either while writing or their reception?

I mean, Words We Use has surprised me so many times. I originally thought it was gonna be around ten chapters, but the story grew legs and ran away from me. It’s currently just out of view, and I’m trying to rein her back in. I was also pleasantly surprised with the recurring readers I got to know, and some of which I now call friends. :) 

7. Do you have a fic you wrote and loved that went under the radar? (This is your sign to reblog/repost it!)

I really liked the tiny Prometheus retelling I did for Eris Week, but I think it might have been a little too niche? 

8. Who is an artist that inspired you?

There are many, and I can’t possibly remember all. But a few that have made works I have really enjoyed are 

@elleybug for her heartbreakingly melancholic depictions, especially of Eris, @palomita-de-la-sangre for her beautifully feral fae, @dawneternal for such wonderful noses, @velidewrites for making them all SO. DANG. SEXY, @thrumugnyr for such excellent incorporations of humor AND headcannons, @queercontrarian for wonderfully detailed character studies, for and the list goes on! 

9. Who is an author that inspired you?

SO SO MANY! If I've ever left a kudos or comment on your work, consider yourself included.And I’m getting overwhelmed trying to write something about everyone, so we’re just listing to avoid this staying in the drafts 

@chunkypossum @iftheshoef1tz @futurehunt @witch-and-her-witcher @the-darkestminds @jules-writes-stories @ysmtttty @talibunny30 @neciebee @mistandmemories @acourtofladydeath @secret-third-thing @unanswered-stars @withmychainzon @separatist-apologist @beesays @fourteentrout @yanny-77 @ofduskanddreams @nocasdatsgay @pippsmcgee @aurorasleeps-27 @born-to-riot 

I APPRECIATE AND ADMIRE ALL OF YOU 

10. Who is a new author you discovered?

See above. I think about ⅔ of the authors are new discoveries from this year, as I only got into Azris in the fall of 2023. 

11. Did you do any collaborations? How did it start?

No, but that could be fun :) Hit me up 

Though, it is sort of a collaboration to have a beta reader, and I’m very grateful for @talibunny30 , @pippsmcgee and @neciebee for helping me with some of my writing in 2024. Literal/literary ANGELS

12. What accomplishments are you proudest of?

Finishing Your Scars on My Pulse, and developing as a writer. It caused a bit of a writing slump, but I’m getting back in the groove!

13. What did you learn about writing or creating this year?

What writing styles that don’t work for me. I tried a couple different ways to draft my stories, mostly in hopes that I would get to the end result faster, but it turns out that my slow and steady way of doing it suits me better. Spewing out words and then revising just makes me frustrated. But it’s a great way for me to draft the overall story! 

14. What is your advice?

Don’t be so hard on yourself. Sometimes it’s very easy to write, and sometimes it’s really hard. It might just mean that you’re getting better at your craft, and your writing style is changing as a result, which can cause a bit of a dissonance. Or maybe you’re in a down period. I sure know how difficult it is to write when depressed. Give yourself the grace to get better, and treat your mind and body well. And don’t compare your work or your success to other writers, it only steals joy. Support others the way you would want to be supported. 

15. What are your creative goals for 2025?

Finishing Words We Use in the Shadows, and working on more original fiction. I would also like to write something lighter and less serious, but I think I mostly have angst planned, lol 

Here’s to a good year!

Lint, laugh, love,

SL

[nalyra-dreaming]

man, that's crazy (about ppl wanting the show to be Blade lol) tho i guess i can sympathize w/ folks who wanted loumand to be more romantic. even i thought at least they'd get a honeymoon phase where they'd be all blissful & in love. what we ended up getting was way meatier imho & more in line w/ the gothic vibe of the show, but i'm a loustater so it's easy for me to say that! i get why some fans felt let down. but all the hand-wringing abt a season that's hardly in production yet feels forced. they can't just admit they misread the story or were bummed by the direction it took, the show has to be "problematic" now to make them feel justified. like i totally set myself up for disappointment re: devil's minion. i fully expected them to get more attention in s2, but i don't blame the writers bc i created those expectations in my own head lol. i guess it's harder for the fans who were wrong about everything to walk that back tho, they gotta make it someone else's fault!

Yeah, well, as I said, I get the frustration (to an extent).

It's just that there was a lot of hate and accusations leveled beforehand at anyone pointing out that Loumand might not be the big wholesome romance that people imagined it to be. And people were soooooo (are still to an extent) convinced the show is not doing the books because Louis is black now.

But they are. The show none too subtly addressed that in 2x08, too, the "suit", the new setup... changes nothing.

They will still go to all the big emotional points, the big story points. As they have, too.

And some have just gone at this show with totally wrong expectations I think. Like, they expected something cute, or something that gives them the absolute truth about the story, or even stays the way it started.

And that is - will be - decidedly not the case.