#why work when you could just live with him in a gothic castle in the forest? :D

[merakiui]

Last Octavinelle post made me think of Leona being able to smell when you’re ovulating and taking that as a free pass to mate 👀

Omg yes. orz imagine Leona in captivity and you're the one who brings him his meals and cleans his enclosure. You're the only one he doesn't lash out or growl at, so the task of caring for him has been entrusted to you because no one else is able to take one step into Leona's enclosure without being chased out with his intimidating presence and low, threatening growls.

No one tells you he's in rut, but then they couldn't have known because Leona keeps to himself most days (often sleeping in a spot where the view of the cameras can't quite reach him). So when you step into his enclosure as you do every day, you expect to find him napping in his usual place. But he's wide awake, staring at you from across the enclosure, his pupils blown so wide and his nostrils flaring curiously. You don't realize that because you're menstruating the scent of blood clings thickly to you, which Leona can smell so clearly with his heightened senses. And it doesn't help that he's in rut, too, so it really is an appealing smell to him. You smell so fertile. <3 naturally he will be overcome with the instinctual desire to mate.

One of the behaviors in lion courtship is that the male will patiently follow the female, so Leona will trail behind you so slowly, so patiently, waiting for you to pick up on his subtle gestures. Human courtship is so foreign to him, but despite that, in the midst of his rut, he's certain that since you came into his territory with such an appealing scent and looking so perfect in his eyes it must mean you want to mate.

[echo-nt]

I know this has already been said and I’m super late, but Mia as the protag of RE8 would have been so good. The contrast between Mia, the Lords, and Mother Miranda would have been absolutely interesting. I'm shoving everything under a read more because damn I have so many thoughts about Mia.

Lady Dimitrescu is a woman that cannibalizes and drinks the blood of her servants and intruders. On top of that, she tortures before preying on them. She does this willingly and very much derives pleasure from doing so. Lady D’s gothic triplets hunt any poor fool that wanders in. It’s a fun family activity for them just as much as it’s for sustenance. 

Do you know what this parallels? The Baker family under Eveline’s control. They patrol the estate and anyone who rejects the “gift” either ends up molded or on the dinner table. This family also partakes in a fucked up version of a family dinner, eating the victims that refused their little girl’s “gift.” 

However, a major difference between the Baker and Dimitrescu family is their willingness to participate in these activities. A family of cannibals; one forced while the other relishes in it. 

Mia is still very traumatized by her three years in the Baker’s estate. Breaking into the castle to find her daughter would force her back. Hello to all the emotions that come with those memories, the ones Mia has been trying to forget. The harder you try to forget something, the more you think about it. What better way to make Mia acknowledge Dulvey, Louisiana than by forcing her into something so similar? 

And while she’s still reeling from remembering her time in captivity, why not push her a bit further down memory lane with House Beneviento? Mia has demonstrated at multiple points in RE7 that she does care about other lives. She lies to Ethan to keep him from getting caught up in her work. She tries to save Alan and crew members of "The Annabelle" (the crew members are a bit more indirect, she mainly focused on Alan) by containing Eveline. After Jack finds her, Mia keeps her distance to keep from infecting them while trying to write a warning. She tries her hardest during RE7 to save Ethan. 

Mia’s hallucinations could center on her guilt. The failure to stop Eveline and the lives ruined as a result. How she was always too late to help anyone. Ethan curing her, a criminal, over Zoe, the person helping him. Leaving Zoe behind in the shattered remains of her home and family. Surviving. Visions of Ethan hinting at his “condition” could lure her to the manor. A little nudge to the whole “he was mold the entire time” plot twist without fully giving it away. 

Moreau, lacking in self worth and very attached to a woman who doesn’t give him the time a day, yet still he considers her as his mother. Most of his actions are for the attention and validation from his “mother.” No matter what Moreau does, he’ll never have her affection or time. It’s sad, isn’t it? To witness a man try so hard only to be rejected. And isn’t that familiar? Mia once felt compassion for someone with similar traits. 

Remember the little girl who considered you her mother? The one that spent three years waiting for you to love her after you promised? The one you had a hand in killing? What makes you think you could ever be a good mother after what you did? Why are you trying so hard to save Rose when you didn’t even extend the same courtesy to Eveline?

Y’all know how Mia’s past is a mystery? Like why she was working for the Connections and how she was even recruited and all that. Heisenberg would be a great way to explore it. A man taken, forced into becoming something else, and stuck in a family he doesn’t want. Mia can relate. He wants to use her daughter as a weapon. She was willing to let another child be used as a weapon. They’re alike, so surely Mia would be willing to side with him.

But Heisenberg is cocky and Mia isn’t the person she was prior/during 7. Even if she was on board with using Eveline as a weapon to end all wars or whatever bullshit the Connections told her, she’s not willing now. Not after what she’s seen and been through. This section could be Heisenberg goading her through the tvs/intercoms about her past to change her mind with Mia remaining steadfast in her refusal.

And then there’s Mother Miranda. Two mothers trying to get their daughters back through vastly different means. Because of the group photo showing Mia and Miranda with Eveline this encounter can go one of two ways. 

Miranda and Mia know each other and have worked together before. Whether it be on the E-Series Project (with Mia becoming the caretaker and spending copious amounts of time at the lab) or though some other means at work. 

They’ve only briefly met when the Connections were in a hurry to transport Eveline.

Either way, Miranda would compare them. As a mother, Mia must understand what she’s trying to accomplish. Would Mia not do the same as she? Maybe at this point Miranda shows she killed Ethan to demoralize to prevent her from interfering with the ceremony. Tells her she’s too late once again and to give Rose to her because she’ll be the superior mother.

Idk, I guess you could switch to Ethan instead of Chris so he can still have Eveline tell him he’s moldy. But he’s a stubborn man and he forces himself back to weaken Miranda so Mia can kill her. Chris shows up and Ethan does the same thing he did at the end by blowing himself up with Chris forcing Mia (with Rose) on the helicopter. That way the Shadow of Rose DLC can still be about Rose and Ethan. 

TLDR; Mia should have been the protagonist because it would have allowed us to explore her character and background more. It was a missed opportunity especially since so much of RE8 centers around mothers. It would have played out better as closing off the Winters Family saga as well since we could have tied the loose ends that came with Mia’s mysterious past.

[faustianfascination]

Pain Points

Decided to write a little something for @venulus Learning How to Love Myself Creation Challenge. It's a little out of my comfort zone as I tend to prefer writing about characters not myself but felt like giving it a try. One of the things that comes with chronic illness is sometimes the lack of logic that comes to body modification when you spend most of your time in pain, and this is a conversation I've had to have multiple times and I wanted to explore it here. This is a rough work but I hope you enjoy!

1577 words SFW Ikemen Vampire Pairing: Faust x Reader (self insert) Comfort, fluff, post argument, chronic illness, fibromyalgia, tattoos, self love, self acceptance

Never go to bed on an argument, that’s what my parents always said. Yet, I’d decided to sleep in another room in the castle and slipped away early in the morning before Faust was awake just to avoid talking to him, and he really didn’t deserve it but my pride was too strong to admit that right now. The needle danced across my hip, moving with practiced ease as the stencil became etched into my skin, floral motifs and gothic architecture becoming one with my flesh as I made my body anew. It hurt, stabbing, throbbing, making my twitch, shiver and hold my breath instinctively-despite my tattoo artist reminding me she needs me to breathe as she worked up my side. Honestly, I wasn’t far off having a little cry.

There hits a point with pain where it feels almost good, not quite the sexual pleasure that comes from rough play but something else, something a little different. Coenobites and their quest for sensation irregardless of pleasure or pain came to mind, because pain was inevitable in life, especially in mine which made seeking out a tattooists needle seem contradictory. But, there was a difference, this pain was a pain of my own choosing, pain I had agency over. It hurt, the grazed flesh of my body would hurt and heal for days, but unlike the pain from my fibromyalgia this made me feel better about myself. It wasn’t the pain of my own body rebelling, curtailing my plans and placing limitations on my day, stopping me from thinking, from feeling like me. This wasn’t the pain that made me want to die, it was the pain that made me want to live. Which is a difficult thing to explain. Something I didn’t even try to explain last night when Faust questioned why, after a particularly debilitating flare up I was opting to go through with a day long tattoo session. It wasn’t a comment laced with mockery or malice, just a question of why after being in pain for days, when I’m finally getting over it I’m opting for more. For something, he considered ‘frivolous’. Truthfully, that word was the trigger that my already volatile head space needed to go straight into attack mode; and attack I did. Like a chunk of potassium hitting water it ignited a nasty fight that ended with me cursing him out, slamming the door and locking myself into a spare room. Perhaps the tears threatening to leak from my eyes were more to do with hurting him than the hurt I was feeling on my skin.

A cursory knock on the door before I let myself in as quietly as possible, his back to me as he worked at his desk, books scattered everywhere, surprisingly more disorganised than yesterday confirming my fear that he probably didn’t sleep. It was my fault and the paltry dinner balanced on the tray in my hands was no where near enough to apologise. I set the tray down on a table and moved closer to him, he may not have acknowledged my entrance but I knew he knew I was here so quietly as a cat I moved closer to him until I could wrap my arms around him from behind, his scent and warmth filling my senses, always making my heart flutter even when I felt guilty as sin. I could feel his body stiffen under my touch which hurt, his breath hitched as he waited for me to make the first move.

“Johan, can we talk?” my quiet voice said into his back. The tenseness indicating that he was still upset, which he had every right to be. He’d been a wonderful partner during the worst of my flare up, no matter how much I cried in pain, frustration he held me close. Comforted me in his own way, was there to rub sore stiff muscles and help manage my pain only to me met with the sharpest side of my tongue. He didn’t respond, only he steady breathe filling the gap where I wanted his voice to be “Johan, please. I’m sorry” I pleaded while gripping him tighter, finally feeling him starting to relax under my touch, a deep sigh preceding his answer “Yes” he said, his voice softer than usual as he turned in my arms and pulled me into his chest. I relished being in his arms, now more than ever as I gently cupped his cheek and raised my eyes to his “Johan, I’m sorry. It was wrong to talk to you like that, to yell at you like that, it was cruel and there aren’t words to convey how sorry I am. I love you so much, but it wasn’t right to lash out at you” my voice was trembling as I tried to get across how sorry I was, how much I regretted hurting him. It was his forehead pressing to mine, the quiet intimacy of being like this that made the tears I’d been holding back finally fall as he held me close to his chest; his hands rubbing gentle circles over my back. ”Perhaps my bluntness was unwarranted, however I did not appreciate being on the end of your ire….but I forgive you. I just wanted to understand why you chose to go get tattooed when you’ve been so ill. It’s not a logical decision no matter how much I try to figure it out. Why seek out more pain?” his voice was soft, still seeking out an answer but trying not to fall into last nights trap. It’s an answer I’d been formulating all day, but now with his scent in my nose and my guard was down all my well practiced words fell out of my head.

He didn’t push, sat down on the armchair and pulled me into his lap, giving me the space to formulate my answer, careful not to put pressure on my newly inked hip and flank.

“Pain is a constant for me, it’s a daily frustration, it’s debilitating. So, you are correct it’s not a logical course of action. However, getting tattooed is pain. But it’s a pain that I get to choose, that I get something from” his eyes never left mine as I explained “It hurts, but unlike fibro pain it gives me something that makes me feel like I have some semblance of control over my body. Being able to make it something I find more pleasing, more…myself. It makes me feel, even on my worse days a more confident and beautiful version of myself. It’s a comfort when the pain I have no control over flares, it reminds me of who I am when I feel like nothing” the words were clumsy, but they finally came and it felt cathartic saying it out loud, but there was still a fear that he wouldn’t understand.

“Your body is beautiful to me no matter the decoration, I have no problem with your unadorned flesh” he said cupping my cheek and holding me in his hazel gaze.

“I understand that, but it’s not about how you see me. It’s about how I see myself, how I want to be seen, how I want to feel about myself. I don’t mean to make that sound like you don’t matter, but it’s still the skin I have to inhabit” I kept my tone even trying not to sound harsh.

He sat quietly for the moment processing what I said, thankfully he didn’t look hurt or offended finally saying “It’s not a position I’d considered, but there is a logic there and I understand what you’re trying to say. I’m not offended” he concluded by kissing me on the tip of my nose and wrapping his arms around me tighter. His response made a knot in my stomach loosen, and my body finally fully relaxed into his arms. Johan took that as the cue to finally kiss me deeply, more comforting that intending to seduce and it felt like the storm had finally passed.

“May I see?” his voice came after a little while being cuddled up in the wingback and shaking the stiffness from my body I obliged his curiosity by getting up and standing in front of him to show the tapestry of motifs stretching down my side. His eye scanned the newly decorated skin, despite it’s grazed and weeping condition, the designs were strong black like medieval woodcuts. His breath caught at one particular point, the point in the design where he found a little tribute to him

“That’s the re-” ”Yes, for you” I cut in “you’re influence is literally etched into my flesh now” I said recalling the reference to the rebis that I’d worked into the design, the divine hermaphrodite and the great work of alchemy. It was a quick, but I swore he looked a little misty eyed before his usual arrogance crept into his expression. Suddenly he stood and I was lifted into his arms princess style and he was striding towards the door ”Fresh wounds need washing and care do they not?” he said with a seductive smirk appearing on his face “I would be remiss not to take you to the baths now wouldn’t I?” ”No baths, only showers while it heals” I cut in remembering the the aftercare instructions ”Then a shower it shall be” he chuckled as we began our journey through the dark castle.

[twhos-fests]

Gothic Fantasy Fest 2024: Day 9 Reveals (Part Two)

Today's GFF highlights are focused on the submissions we received where the prompt was from our curated list of gothic tropes and themes. Mind the tags & Happy Reading! 🦇

Phoenix by @superfriction

"He knew he had been hovering on the edge of a cliff for a while now. No matter what he thought..."

Warnings: Cult AU | Emotional Abuse | Non-Con |

Rating: Explicit

Character(s)/Ship(s): Drinny (Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley)

Word Count: 7,831 words

Summary: It was meant to be a last resort. A way for Draco and others to put in the work to overcome the trauma of their childhoods and the Second War. It wasn't meant to become his reason for living. And it most certainly wasn't meant to be his way of finding safety and absolution in the willing and waiting arms of the organization's founder.

The Black Wedding by IzRoan

"This was the problem with Draco Malfoy. He brought out the worst in everyone around him..."

Warnings: Post-Hogwarts | Forced Marriage | Necromancy |

Rating: Explicit

Character(s)/Ship(s): Drarry

Word Count: 39,199 words

Summary:

Draco has returned to London off the tail end of a worldly expedition harboring a strange and possibly primordial illness. Try as they might, the Healers can’t seem to parse out a cure for this magical ailment. Through endless toil, temper-tantrums, and spilt cups of coffee, Draco has found a remedy far older than anything the Healers have proposed: a Black Wedding. Only one unscrupulous orphan fits the ritual’s specifications, and Harry is elated to make himself as much of a nuisance in Draco’s life as possible.

last will and testament by @nyenke

"He’d left her between the sword and the cross, and he knew that she would make the most terrible choice for him..."

Warnings: Morally Grey | Blood Curse | Non-Con |

Rating: Mature

Character(s)/Ship(s): Drastoria

Word Count: 3,295 words

Summary:

But when the doctors said she only had half a decade, maybe seven years at most, left, with pregnancy a death sentence, he’d changed.

Maybe that was why he’d thrown himself into research.

The Castle is Alive by Aurora_Borealis3406

"He could feel it leaching away the last remnants of color from his soul. Hogwarts felt it too..."

Warnings: Sentient Hogwarts | 8th Year | Visions | Body Horror |

Rating: Explicit

Character(s)/Ship(s): Dreomione

Word Count: 7,351 words

Summary:

Theo just wanted to finish out his parole by attending his eighth year at Hogwarts with his girlfriend, but the one thing he'd left behind after the war is running from him. Draco Malfoy has always been someone he cared about, and he can't stand seeing his childhood best friend and ex-lover falling apart before his eyes.

Hogwarts also feels... wrong. Something is wrong. Voices whisper in his ears, he's seeing things that aren't really true, and dark, mysterious corridors keep drawing him and Hermione in.

What is Hogwarts trying to tell them?

Complete fest information under the cut!

Fest Disclaimer

Due to the darker subject material of the prompts, please mind every tag of the submissions you choose to read and engage with from our fest. Some fanworks include triggering and taboo content. So, take care of yourself, honor your limits, and enter at your own risk.

Fest Information

Gothic Fantasy Fest is a Harry Potter fanworks fest dedicated to and centered around our love for the gothic horror genre!

The inspiration to host this fest came out of our desire to see more fanworks in the fandom where the darkness within us all is celebrated, embraced, and reveled in.

This fest is hosted by The Writing Heirs of Slytherin Discord Server.

Important Links

AO3 Collection

Official Fest Spotify Playlist

Official Fest Mood Board

Discord Server

[rendy-a]

Congratulations on 500 followers 🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎉 hope you get more btw 🤗

Anyways so far the event reads are super entertaining and great so if its alr can i get yandere idia after the dance?? Ignore if you wish 👍

Funny thing about writing fics, sometimes you think your fic is a mess but when you reread over the draft, its not half bad.  I remember starting this out and thinking, if its after the dance, then surely, they have to meet in an unusual way because Idia won’t be coming to that dance by free will…

There were so many things to remember from this night; the dance, your outfit, and hanging out with both new and old friends.  As the lights flickered off in the gardens, you sadly realized the magical night was over.  Only, you knew you’d never be able to sleep after this much excitement.  Maybe that was why you’d agreed to stay behind and help pick up trash from the tables in the cafeteria.  Plus, you weren’t completely alone.  “Thanks for keeping me company, Ortho,” you say as you give the AI boy a smile.  “It was my pleasure, Prefect!” he cheerfully replies. 

You look around at the dim cafeteria and realize, “Gosh, it is so quiet in here with nobody around.”  Ortho takes on a look of calculation before replying, “You are correct, no other lifeforms are detected in over 100 meters from this position.”  You laugh at how he took your innocent comment and turned it into such a scientific response, “Good to know.  Now no one will hear me scream.  Just like a B Horror movie.”  Ortho looks very amused by this, “Are you a fan of B Horror movies, Prefect?  My brother loves those!  You should come over to Ignihyde sometime and watch one with us!”  Watch movies with Idia?  You didn’t want to say anything to Ortho about his brother but, honestly, you weren’t sure he even knew who you were.  Really, if it hadn’t been for the whole ‘kidnapped by a ghost’ thing, you wouldn’t know him either. 

“Oh yeah?  That sounds like, um, great fun.  We should totally hang out some time,” you end politely.  “Ah! I’m so happy you feel that way, Prefect!  I’d love for Brother to spend more time with you!” Ortho says happily with a hand to his mouth like he couldn’t contain his smile behind that metal cover.  “Yeah, why not.  You can let him know to come see me…just whenever it is convenient for you,” you say offhandedly.  “Transmission complete.” You look over, “Hmm?”  Oh, the table Ortho was working on was now clean and…you look down at your own area, so was yours.  In fact, you’d hardly noticed but you and Ortho had finished collecting all the trash in the room.  “I guess it is complete,” you say looking back at Ortho with a smile, “Do you need me to walk you home?” 

Ortho gets a mischievous look in his eye, “No, Prefect, I’ll be fine.  My brother equipped me with everything I needed for nighttime navigation.  He would do anything to make me happy and I’m sure he’d do the same for you too.”  You didn’t really know what to say so you stammered a reply, “I..I’m sure he would.”  This was apparently the correct answer as a very cheerful Ortho waved enthusiastically as he floated off.  You watch him go before turning to begin your own trek home. 

Good thing you weren’t afraid of the dark.  Otherwise, this campus could be a frightening place.  The gothic architecture reminded you of a vampire’s castle and the bats circling the towers did nothing do dispel that mood.  The eerie blue glow dancing across the pavers made the whole place seem like a path to an undead underworld.  Wait.  There shouldn’t be a blue glow on this path.  After all your earlier bluster, you were now generally freaked out.  You looked back, considering taking the back way home but that convoluted path would take you at least half an hour to walk.  No, you lived with ghosts, you could deal with whatever supernatural entity this was.  You’d just be careful.

You crept carefully down the path until you came to a glowing blue hedge.  You could see the eerie flames came from deeper within.  You gathered your courage and rushed forward, parting the hedge and shouting mightily, “Arrgghhhh!”  You had no plan but, luckily for you, you didn’t need one.  The frightened occupant of the hedge screamed louder than you did and fell back on his bottom, “AAAHHHH!”  You meet eyes and continue screaming for a solid twenty seconds until the flickering blue flames finally illuminated enough of his face for you to recognize your supernatural stalker was only Idia. 

“What are you doing here?” you hiss out quietly at the cowering dorm leader.  “You…you invited me, so I came!  B.but, I got nervous about random encounters and decided to take a pit stop to wait for my stamina to recharge,” he stuttered out.  You give him a puzzled look, “I…invited you?”  He flushes deeply and his hair gets a pink tinge to the ends, “Ortho, he passed on your message.  That, that you wanted to see me…to hang out…” Then he looks away, tapping his index fingers together like a schoolgirl.  Wait, what exactly had you said to Ortho?  “I thought I said he shouldn’t mention it until he saw you next.  I didn’t mean to drag you out of bed or anything.” 

Idia gets a rare sharp-toothed grin when explaining, “Ortho is set up with Wi-Fi, local transmission, and the ability to connect to outdated landline technology.  We are always in touch.”  Then he seems to feel overwhelmed about having said so much, “P.plus, I’m never asleep this early s.so, you shouldn’t worry about me.”  You still felt guilty, you had inadvertently dragged an introvert out into the wild with no real reason.  The guilt prompted you to come up with an impromptu excursion to drag your new acquaintance on.  “So, want to walk around the main street?  I guess you don’t really get to see the busy areas of the school much, huh?”  He blinks at you owlishly before giving you a shy grin and a nod. 

“Here are the Great Seven statues,” you remark in a very tour-guide tone.  You nod your head toward the stature of the Queen of Hearts, “Grim and I sort of burnt that one down once.”  Idia looks at you, “Oh yeah?” he drawls with a knowing grin.  “I…I mean we were MINORLY involved.  It was really Ace’s fault mostly!  I’m not some hoodlum or anything!” you hurriedly backtrack on that comment.  He pulls his hands into his body in surprise at your sudden outburst and stammers, “I…I know…I believe you.” 

You cringe at what a weirdo you sound like.  Not that you are the only one who had some weird moments this night.  Earlier, you’d randomly pointed out a bench you like to sit on, and Idia had taken a picture of it with his phone.  How much of a shut-in do you have to be before someone’s favorite bench seems picture worthy?  “Maybe next time we will sit on it together,” you’d joked only to have Idia flush instead of laugh.  Maybe he isn’t ready for jokes today.

Time for a topic change, “Which of the statues is your favorite?” you ask suddenly.  “Me?  You want to know my favorite? I never thought you’d want to know about me…” Idia trails off in a mumble before responding, “Ah!  I like the King of the Underworld.  A.and not just because I’m from Ignihyde!  He is just so cool.  He devotes himself to his work but still had time to find someone to make his bride.  I..I try to imitate his work ethic…and other things…”

The silence lingers after Idia finishes until he asks quietly, “Which one is your favorite?”    It was an interesting question as you had no dorm affiliation to influence your choice.  You don’t really want to think too hard about things in the middle of the night, so you shrug and point to one.  “Th.the King of Beasts?” Idia asks in surprise.  “Hmm,” you hum in agreement, “It’s a cat.”  Then you meet his eyes and burst out into laughter.  He surprises you by letting out a small chuckle too; I guess he is ready for some jokes after all.  “I didn’t know we had so much in common.  I also like kitties.” he says quietly before you nod toward the path and continue your way onwards toward Ramshackle. 

You reach the fence bounding the hill on which Ramshackle lies and lean onto it, weaving your arms between the spiked bars that top it.  “Home sweet home.  It doesn’t look like much now, but you should have seen it when it was all decorated up by Diasomnia during Halloween.”  He gives you a small smile and remarks, “I saw it.  I had Ortho fly over and take video for me.”  You bump him with your elbow, “Keeping an eye on me, eh?”  He does not take that as the joke you meant it to be and goes into a panicked fluster, “N.No!  Not..not at all!  It…It was for research purposes.  RESEARCH ONLY!”  You laugh, “Relax, I’m only teasing you.”  He was fun to tease, you decide.

“I thought it looked great.  I was sort of jealous of the costumes.  I think it would have been fun to dress up in one,” you muse, allowing the subject to change.  “Do..do you like to cosplay?” Idia asks carefully.  “Hmm, I don’t know if like is really the word.  Maybe say I’m interested in it,” you say as you think it over, “Like when you see a really great costume online and it makes you feel excited to try it out.  You know?”  You push back from the wall and give Idia a nice smile as you seek out his acknowledgment.  He returns your smile, “Yeah, like sometimes you see something really cute and think ‘I wonder what they’d look like in this.’” 

“They?” you tease, “Who is they?  Do you have a special someone Idia?”  If you thought you’d flustered him before, that was nothing to the reaction you got now.  The tips of his hair turned so crimson that, for a moment, the blaze was red-hot enough to warm you.  “NO!  I DON’T HAVE ANYONE IN MIND!  But I mean if I did, I wouldn’t brag about it to everyone, I’d keep them safe and secret.  It would be great to have a person to do this sort of thing with.  Maybe someday…”  From there, you aren’t sure if his mumbles get too quiet or if you are laughing too loudly to hear them. 

Then you reached your door and stopped at the entry to say goodnight to your companion.  “That was a fun time.  You should get out more often.”  He looks at the ground mostly, but you catch him gazing at you through his lashes as he says, “If you invite me, I’ll come again.”  You smile, “Sure.  I don’t mind, its not like you kept me waiting or anything.”  Idia’s expression becomes deathly pale, and his mouth works without producing any sound.  “Oh, don’t worry.  I’m not mad.  Even though you took that rest in a bush, you still showed up surprisingly fast.  I’m surprised you managed to get there that fast from Ignihyde and all.  What, did you actually jog all that way?  I think there must be a surprising amount I don’t know about you, Idia Shroud.”  Then, with a wave of your hand, you slipped inside and left the shocked Idia standing at your doorway.  He really was easy to tease. 

As you climb the stairs to your room you are stuck with your parting statement.  You hadn’t consciously thought about it, but Idia HAD appeared in that bush far faster than he’d have been able to if he came from Ignihyde.  Had he been on campus doing something?  Idia the famous introvert?  Now, when it was too late to ask, you wonder what he might have been doing prior to meeting up with you.  Perhaps, if you ever met up again, you’d remember to ask him what had interested him enough to tear him out of his room while everyone else was dancing. 

The whole ‘hang out’ had taken a surprisingly short amount of time, only around half an hour.  But after the long dance and clean-up were added in, it was enough to make you ready to turn in for the night.  So, you shucked off your formal wear and put on a comfy outfit and headed to bed.  You grab the top layer of bedding and fold it over giving yourself a way to slide into bed.  Before you can though, you puzzledly examine your pillow.  A single strand of writhing blue hair lays upon it.  You twirl it around in your fingers, ‘I guess it must have transferred to me from earlier and fallen off,’ you think.  How odd but…not odd enough to keep you up longer.  You flick your fingers, sending the wayward strand floating off to the floor to be swept up some other day. 

Then you slip inside your comfy bed and let your mind wander as it does before sleep claims you.  I wonder if Idia gets hot when he is in bed?  That flame hair must heat things up pretty fast.  Funny to think about because tonight, you feel like your own bed is somehow still warm as though remembering the heat of a recent occupant.  But that just must be your imagination.  A bed can’t stay warm all day like that. 

[munsonsduchess]

Shadow of the Moon

summary: you’re a young woman living alone on the outskirts of the village of hawkins, who just so happens to be a witch and perhaps the only hope eddie munson has w/c: 1,130 warnings: prejudice, mentions of blood and injury a/n: so this whole thing kinda just grabbed me by the 🐱 if i’m honest, it’s just the idea of those swoopy white shirts with the big sleeves and the tightest trousers known to mankind, if you like this please reblog it so others can find it as well! so many thanks to @pillow-titties for helping me plot this out

not beta’d but i did a spell check, that being said there’s probably a hundred and one typos but trust me they’re just there for flavouring

(moodboard by me)

For as long as you could remember you'd never lived in one place for any great length of time. Always having to leave suddenly in the middle of the night, or hearing that you had till sundown to gather your things and leave, that was the life of someone like you. Someone with powers. A witch they called you, they were right.

You'd come to Hawkins a year ago. It was one of the larger villages in the area, loomed over by the great Gothic Castle of King Robert Harrington who had lost his wife the winter before you had arrived, to hear the villagers speak the King had never been a warm man but he had never been cruel but the death of his wife had shut something off inside the King.

His son, Price Steven was seen less and less outside of the castle walls those first few months. Everyone assumed that he would be grieving the death of his Mother but rumours from those who worked in the palace suggested otherwise. People said that the King expected too much from his son, that according to the King the Prince ought to be just like his father but Prince Steven favoured his mother more.

You had come to know all this and more from a young man named Dustin and his friends who had offered you their services after witnessing how you were treated in the village your first few months. How scared people became when they found out who or rather what you were. The immediate change in behaviour of a shopkeeper who only moments ago had been more than welcoming and helpful to now asking you to leave his business.

Dustin and his friends offered to get anything you needed from the village so you wouldn’t have to go in yourself and be treated the way you were. They had promised never to tell a soul what they were purchasing the items you requested for or indeed for whom,

“We’re really good at keeping secrets” Dustin had told you

You were want to believe him if the way their little group huddled around one of their member. A girl called Jane who seemed to sense things more deeply than her peers, you knew exactly what the world would do to a girl like that and it warmed your heart to see how protected she was.

»»————- ☾————-««

You mainly kept to yourself, with Dustin and his friends got you anything you needed from the village and sometimes came to watch you work but most days it would just be you and your books.

Girls came from the village, the way they always do, asking for love charms. They wanted the objet of their affections to notice them, wanted true love as so many often did. You also produced a large number of charms to catch the eye of the Prince himself, he was a handsome young man and you could certainly see why the village girls and even those who worked in the palace itself would want to catch his eye.

Although local gossip had it that the Prince had already taken a lover, a girl who worked in the palace named Robin. They were reportedly never apart and this of course led many to believe that the two were involved somehow.

The children laughed when anyone mentioned it. They were all apparently quite close with the Prince, much to the outrage of his father, and they called the rumours stupid and baseless. There was nothing more than friendship between Prince Steven and Robin,

“Platonic with a capital P they call it” Maxine had told you, “Steve’s a good guy but because he’s important or whatever people all think his business is theirs too”

“How very wise of you Maxine” you’d laughed, “do you not wish for your prince’s attention too!”

“Ew, gross”

You’d laughed, thanked the children for their help for the day and gone about your business. It would seem that despite how the village at large felt about a witch living in such close proximity to them it didn’t bother the children or their parents. Will had told you that his Mother and Father thought it was a good thing, to help someone the way he and Jane were helping you.

You’d heard the same thing from Lucas that his parents tended to agree with Will and Jane’s parents. Apparently they’d all grown up together and so then had their children. The only one who seemed surly about the entire affair was Michael and after being pulled aside by Dustin it was revealed that Michael’s father was one of the most outspoken voices in regards to your living situation and his Mother was simply distant, he had an elder sister but she had since left the home and gone on to live a new life.

You found yourself growing more and more fond of this strange group of children and you hoped they were as fond of you. It was nice to have friends, even if they were so much younger than you.

»»————- ☾————-««

It was one of the darkest nights since you’d moved to Hawkins. You’d known the storm was coming and made all the necessary preparations, there would be things that needed to be done for your craft when the storm had passed and you were spending the time reading while you waited for the storm to pass.

If anything the storm didn’t seem to want to pass by Hawkins at all, it was rattling your windows and the wind howled down your chimney. It sounded for all the world like the world was ending outside, you hadn’t experienced a storm like it since you were a child.

The sound of banging alerted you to someone at the door to your cottage. They were pounding the door as heavily as they could and yelling something that was being silenced by the sound of thunder rumbling overhead. Was this it? Was this the mob come to chase you from their village in the dead of night?

There was no light outside that you could see so perhaps not? Or perhaps their torches had simply been extinguished in the pouring rain. Something told you though, that you should open the door, that this was important.

So open it you did.

What you had not expected to find that evening was the Crown Prince standing in your doorway covered in blood with a frantic concerned look on his face, Dustin at his other side equally covered in blood and frantic and held up between them a young man with a mess of dark curly hair bleeding profusely and hardly breathing,

“Please, you have to help us” Steve spoke, “help him, please”

What had you gotten yourself into?

[winterapocalypse]

Winter Apocalypse 56

prof Bolton and prof Wilde

"Why?" Jeff asked, close to Emily's side, as he felt the negative vibes the girl was giving off. "Do you want to keep us away from school?" asked the gothic girl with long black hair and green streaks, flaying the professor alive with her icy ice-colored eyes, surrounded by heavy eyeliner and a layer of deep black eyeshadow that shimmered an eerie green.

"The camp is no longer usable. There have been problems." Melisandre chimed in, quick as a peregrine falcon.

"The camp?! I've just been there, everything was fine!" Ken interrupted, overshadowing even the very tall red woman, who had to raise her head even just to look at his face. "Well, it's not anymore. What were you doing here? A Lys potion? Aren't foreign potions made inside the school illegal? You work for the school, you should know what the rules are for staying and working here." she glared at him, and Ken had to go back to sit next to her younger sister, while Pallina crouched against the school with her large head tucked under her feathered wing.

"But it was just to make them feel better-" the big blond boy tried to justify himself, but Melisandre once again attacked poor Ken, who had never been particularly good with words. "And then, keeping such a large beast within the Castle walls is extremely dangerous, as dangerous as your sister Aston's eagle, who enjoys bullying and injuring important students of the Night's Watch! And the smallest… some Hufflepuffs said that it was you, Dennis, who set off a cold fire bomb on the pitch, together with your friends Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Maybe we should punish you, and not send you on a trip to Skagos."

"But it wasn't us!" Dennis shouted in his annoying little voice, even higher pitched in such a tense moment. "I didn't move from here! I went to Omega Mart and then we stayed here playing in the snow! It's not fair!!"

At the mere mention of Hufflepuff, Theon paled, as if something had suddenly occurred to him, and dropped the bottle of butterbeer that he had hidden when he saw the professors approaching. Melisandre didn't miss the opportunity. "And you're drinking alcohol too! Stannis, I suggest a suitable punishment for this group of boys… why don't we send them to Castle Black? Shireen, Aegon and Eddie can stay here to serve their punishment. They are useful to us.. . in good shape. Even the zombie boy… the pale boy could be useful."

The boys jumped. Except Beric, who didn't know what happened to Castle Black because he had died around that time and couldn't remember a thing.

Sheamus leaned down and spoke in his ear. "The Night's Watch moved here because something dangerous happened to their Castle. And then Dennis and Aegon overheard that there's something really dangerous there, we risk our lives if they send us there!"

Beric let out an astonished expression at the thought that someone would endanger his beloved Aston, and placed his hand on the sword at his side, ready to set the sword on fire and fight the now furious Red Woman fire with fire.

"Who told you that you could decide for our students?" came a mournful voice from behind them.

Stannis and Melisandre turned to find themselves facing the head professors of Slytherin and Ravenclaw houses, respectively the Gothic professor of magical anatomy and head of Slytherin Roose Bolton, and the professor of mind reading and non-verbal magical languages and head of Ravenclaw Frankie Wilde, both definitely annoyed.

Roose Bolton wore a suit jacket and trousers, pale pink with several rubies and red spinels in the shape of drops of blood sewn onto them, the stitching on the suit jacket was blood red silk, the color of the shirt he wore under the suit. A black leather jacket that reached down to his knees covered his shoulders, covered in silver and green embroidery the color of his house depicting skinned men, from which also hung several small chains, in silver and green metal.

Frankie Wilde, next to Roose, was not so elegant. He had an army green parka lined with thick black and white fur from the Giant Carnivorous Badger, an extremely dangerous animal voracious for wizard meat that Frankie himself had decapitated after a hard fight. Under the parka, the only thing covering his bare, athletic chest were several necklaces with the most disparate pendants, most of them runestones for powerful magic and talismans. His designer ripped jeans went down to his knees, and he wore his usual flip-flops, probably more expensive than Stannis Baratheon's entire wardrobe alone.

[theheelerbooklifereads]

𝓡𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰: 𝟑/𝟓 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓼

It has been 3 years and things have drastically changed. Princess Imogen of Goslind has been living a sheltered life in a boarded-up castle to stay safe from the bloody mori roja plague that is running rampant in the kingdom. People are complaining and rations are dwindling. Imogen has a secret but does not want to reveal it as the kingdom is in an upheaval and the king is going mad. Then, there is Nico who once upon a time had a good, comfortable life but it was all ripped away from him when the plague took everything and everyone from his life. Imogen's and Nico's worlds collide when Lord Crane brings Nico to the castle to search for plague survivors.

I am a sucker for books that have royalty and kingdoms. Mara does a great job of setting up the dark feel of this book by tying a plague into the book to make a reason for why the people of the Kingdom are struggling and going into a state of upheaval. But the one thing I am struggling with is books that have plagues or pandemics in them. I do not know the reason on why I am struggling with books with this topic in them, but it just makes me struggle and I am not sure how to explain it...but, maybe bored?

Also, with the world building, I found it to be weak at times because we really only see a closed off castle and nothing really outside of this castle. This could be on purpose because we know that there is a plague going on out in the world and people are in discourse so being secluded from the world would change the characters idea of what it looks like out there.

For the first half of this book, it was slow going but around the halfway mark it started to pick up a bit to where I was starting to enjoy it.

Mara includes Jewish representation in this book which I thought it was very interesting in a fantasy world setting but I really liked the representation in this book. I think it worked out well.

When it came to the romance aspect of this book, I really liked that it did not take center stage of this book and that it did not overshadow the plot. The characters were done pretty well and introduced well.

I barely found out that this is a reimagining of Edgar Allan Poe's "The Masque of the Red Death." I have not read any of Poe's work (even though I grew up right outside of Baltimore City and he was always mentioned since he passed away in Baltimore. But I know Poe's work was always talked about being on the darker feeling side and Mara really encompasses that dark feeling with this book.

For me this was just an okay book, but I think this will make a great book to read in the fall time. If you are a fan of Poe, darker toned books/gothic stories, and royalty then you probably will enjoy this book. If you are not a fan of plagues, then I say you probably should skip this.

I plan on trying more of Mara's books down the road.

https://www.instagram.com/p/CyBQWm9rl36/?igshid=MWZjMTM2ODFkZg==

[devcted]

"I don't think you should hate her..." bee starts, a gentle smile on her lip. his mom sounded like an awful lady, especially given her ideology hurts people just like her mother who was the best person in the world. she looks up at him, shaking her head with a sad smile. "hate means you still care...and you shouldn't care about people who are so cruel." bee doesn't blame him though, she doesn't hate her parents even though they haven't done anything half as bad as walburga did.

she's not totally sure how she should respond, she knew of pure blood families and how a lot of them liked to keep things...close. she's not sure how anyone could be happy living a life like this one where you couldn't choose who you loved, everything was arranged, everything was kept in the family...nothing was real or genuine and true love didn't exist. "so, now that you can make your own decisions...like chose who you marry. who would you chose to love?" she smiles, genuinely interested in what he looks for in a love interest as opposed to who he was chosen to love by rules and standards. "I guess you haven't really had to think about who your ideal type is though..." she frowns.

she discovered she had ancient magic abilities not long after cedric was killed. her first panic attack and she nearly blew out the lights in the hufflepuff common room causing other students to freak out a little. she's still working on controlling her power but it seems almost impossible, no one really knows much of ancient magic which is why they call it ancient. "just because you're a bad boy doesn't mean you aren't still hot...but sure I guess I could get on top of you, make sure you behave." she teases, smirking at him. he calls her a special girl and she shakes her head a little, smiling at his words. "I mean I don't really know how to control it yet...it's kind of like having so much power and not knowing what to do with it." she sighs, shrugging her shoulders a little, blue eyes flickering down to the ground.

"yeah, we could go together..." she smiles shyly. "maybe we could get you an owl? and your wand and go to your place of course." she smiles softly. it kind of sounds like a date and she doesn't know if it does to him but it makes her heart flutter regardless. "it'll be fun, I'd love to see where you live...or lived I guess." she knows it'll probably be like a castle, a beautiful castle gothic and beautiful like himself.

she laughs a bit when he asks her to continue to tell him how she thinks he's pretty, a bright smile on her lips as she rolls her eyes playfully. "maybe later, I think your ego is getting as big as your...she paused eyes flickering down to his dick as she smirks softly.

he points out how barbaric it is and she nods sadly, blue eyes flickering towards the ground as she frowns a bit. her brother died because of dumbledore, he was murdered in cold blood and nobody did anything to protect him...they never did anything to stop it. she can feel her eyes stinging. "yeah maybe if they had thrown dumbledore to the wolves my brother wouldn't have been the sacrificial lamb for the slaughter." she says, feeling sick thinking about how this never would've happened if they weren't so incompetent. "my brother died because of the games...well, sorta. I guess it's kind of a long story but the cup was a portkey and he got sucked in with harry potter whose name was never supposed to be submitted into the cup to begin with and it turns out that it was all one big plot for voldemort to get his hands on harry but my brother cedric got caught up in it because he's so stupidly selfless." she sniffs trying not to cry as she wipes away an escaped tear. "and dumbledore could've stopped it but he didn't he knew the games were dangerous and he had to have known something weird was going on but he didn't care and now my brother is dead. it's horrible to say but I wouldn't mind seeing him become food for the dragons."

it's hard not to smile at his words about her notes in her old dragons book, giggling a bit. "you'll have to tell me what I wrote, I read that book so many times I got sick of it I haven't read it in awhile...I have other dragon books too you could read all summer until you're an expert." she smiles pressing a kiss to his cheek again. biting down on her lower lip "I can see that...but you should know, that's my first time ever seeing anything big and beautiful." she teases.

his next words make her blush, heat going up to her face and down between her legs as he refers to himself as 'daddy' and she's his girl. she shouldn't like it as much as she does, it makes her feel like she's about to burst into flames. she bites down on her lower lip, eyes flickering to meet his and then back to his lips. "do you think you could handle me every night? you might look and feel young but can my sweet husband handle his duties every single night I ask for him?" she smirks as he leans in closer, wanting so bad to just say fuck it and kiss him. it's clear what they're doing even for someone who has never actually done anything like herself but she still feels a bit shy. "fuck...you're gorgeous."

he praises her, calling her a good girl for the way she just totally lost herself by sucking on his finger. now she's horny and blushing so bad as he licks his thumb and takes her hand, allowing her to lace their fingers together. she drags him down the hall, cedric slept on the bottom floor with her room next to it separated by a large bathroom though his room was the second larger bedroom in their tree house. she uses her free hand to push the door open and drag regulus inside. it's a peaceful sadness, but it felt so empty since her brother left, nothing but hufflepuff decor and pictures of sora and his life at hogwarts to fill the room without him. she knows they'll likely take a lot of it down to keep it safe but also so regulus doesn't feel as though he's sleeping in someone else's room, she drops his hand and smiles. "there should be everything you need already in the shower....I'll set this space up for you and it'll be ready by time you're all squeaky clean, and you can feel free to borrow his clothes until we get yours tomorrow..."

“it is,” he agrees. “that’s why sirius hated her… and i should’ve hated her too.” he frowns. “i still don’t, though– not really. i just hate the way my first life went and more than anything i hate voldemort.” it burns deeply; his desire to see the other wizard dead. he would do it himself and part of him is almost planning to, if he can find a way to make it feasible. at the very least, he’s going to kill as many of the older death eaters as possible.

“but i agree… i’ve always wanted to have kids. despite my family making it sound like it’s some sacred holy duty. the motto we’re taught is Toujours Pur… it means ‘Always Pure’. my ancestors prided themselves on each one of their children. our family had so much power that people used to think of us as royalty. a lot of people believed it was because of our bloodline itself, and the way we didn’t marry too far out…” after attending hogwarts like he did and being exposed to people from muggle cultures, the way he spoke about the black family seemed more and more ridiculous. but it’s true, that for centuries what people have believed is that blood dictates power. how could they not, when being a witch and wizard was genetic? he’s not so sure how far it goes, but what he does know is he’s tired of pureblood elitism and everything it’s done to tear their world apart.

she says she could take him even despite his power and he smiles, looking at her curiously. “do you promise?” he purrs, leaning in. “will you be on top of me, after?” he’s not interested in fighting her unless it means he gets to feel her. he thinks about her teasing words before asking, “would you be attracted to me? if i were bad?” he wonders if she would’ve touched him, even when he was a death eater. on the other hand, bee is even more special than he thought, being a user of ancient magic. he had never met someone who was able to practice it and truthfully he knew almost nothing of the subject, for once. “see? you are a special girl.”

“to diagon alley?” he asks, when she offers to take him to get his wand. “i have to go to gringotts anyway… maybe do some shopping. we could even stop by my family home so i could get clothes.” it never would have been possible for bee to visit before, but now they’re all dead besides kreacher and sirius. he wonders if sirius is even home, and what’s happened to him in all these years since.

it makes him feel soft, the idea that she felt connected to the place he would eventually wake up. “if that’s true then fate might actually favor me after all,” he muses, always having thought before that his life would have a bitter end. he didn’t anticipate getting a second try; especially not with an angel at his side. “i’d like to hear more about how you think i’m pretty.” it’s not like he doesn’t know, but he wants to hear all about it from her. he likes the way her voice sounds and how her soft cheeks get all pink.

he’s surprised when she mentions the triwizard tournament, having read about it but knowing it was discontinued due to the death toll in 1792. he wonders if she means it was cruel to the dragons or the students, or both. he doesn’t like the idea of them involving dragons in something that could get them hurt or further misunderstood. “i’m sure it was amazing to see them up close, but that sounds barbaric. maybe instead of making students fight for their lives for entertainment, they should’ve slapped dumbledore in a clown costume, tossed him into the ring and had us place bets on which dragon would get to its dinner first.” he never liked dumbledore before and he doubts that’ll change much on his second time at hogwarts.

he softens again at the mention of how many times she’s read the book. “i would love your copy. especially if there are cute little notes in the margins.” he pauses, smile tugging at his lips again. “i could dedicate my first book as a dragonologist to you... or i could thank you in other ways. my heart isn’t the only thing that’s big and beautiful.”

he likes how she teasingly continues what he said about playing house, a shiver running through him because of her words. it makes him horny in a way he’s never felt before, unfamiliar with the intensity of it. he’s always wanted to grow up and marry a beautiful girl; settle down and have children. but he never imagined it would be with a girl who looks like an angel and acts like one too. “yes, i’ll be daddy and you can be my girl… i’ll put the prettiest babies in you and take care of you every day.” she asks if he’ll be a good husband to her and he leans in, speaking near her ear. “i’ll be the perfect husband… we’ll make love every night.” he doesn’t know how they got here, the air so heavy, but he’s intoxicated with her and needs more.

a soft sound leaves him as she takes his finger into her mouth, her pretty lips wrapping around it and sucking. his pants feel tight and the warmth between his legs has only grown, unable to tear his gaze from her perfect mouth. he can't help but wonder if her mouth will feel this good around his aching length, wanting to push his finger further until she suddenly pulls back. “good girl,” he murmurs, and sucks his finger clean of her spit one last time. “you taste better than the pancakes.” he stands from the table as she does, taking her hand when she offers it, even though it makes his heart flutter.

[solomonish]

My Personal Simeon Fall AU Headcanons

These are within the same realm of this fic - and it is intended as a Simeon x MC universe! These HCs will focus on his time in the Devildom rather than why he fell, but maybe that information will come eventually...

*some things regarding this war I keep mentioning may not be entirely clear - still working on that! However, I’ll try not to put out too much contradicting information, hehe!

WARNING: some angst, brief mention/implication of torture. forcibly removed memories.

First Days

He came to the devildom in a blaze, much like the brothers did, hurtling down like a shooting star. At the core, encasing him as his wings charred to soot, was a brilliant light blue, rimmed by a dazzling white and platinum gold. At his impact site, parts of the dirt and stone have crystallized in the same colors. The site is still roped off for investigation.

He fell, acting as a white flag for both sides to signal the end of a war very few people knew was raging. The impact sent the last of his holy energy into the surrounding area, and demons near the sight complained of itching and general irritation for weeks after.

The only people at the site who looked into his eyes when he struggled to get up were you, Diavolo, Barbatos, Lucifer, and Solomon. A few curious Devildom citizens were scattered about, too, but Diavolo's authoritative vibe kept them too far to see anything.

Diavolo and Barbtos kept him in one room in the castle as he adjusted to the sudden demonic energy inside him and learned to contain his wrath. You were allowed to see him, but only if supervised by Barbatos or Diavolo in case Simeon tried to hurt you.

He was despondent most of the time, sitting curled up and stiff in the middle of the bed that looked untouched. He spent days without sleep, simmering with rage. You never found out if he bottled it up or if he destroyed the room but Barbatos put it back together before you appeared.

(You might not ever learn that some of the methods Diavolo and Barbatos used to bring his memories back were...extreme. They had no intentions of torture or pain, but they desperately wanted to get to them if they could. That’s where his anger was used up - as he screamed out in agony, either from the extraction method or the feeling of having lost everything yet not quite grasping what that meant.)

Satan suggested books and sent some of his personal collection that helped him gather himself when he was created. Diavolo and Barbatos tried to jog his memories, both for personal reasons and to get information on the Celestial realm, but that was exactly why they were gone. His memories had been magically extracted, but haste made him forget most everything instead of just sensitive information regarding the realm.

Eventually, he was free to roam the garden and some hallways, and when Diavolo and Barbatos concluded that regaining his memories was impossible, he was housed.

Power & Standing

He was a powerful angel, so he is a powerful demon, yet not quite as powerful as the brothers.

Simeon, for the majority of the war, was fighting on the side of the Celestial Realm, so he's generally disliked among the citizens of the Devildom. Our cast are all weary around him for multiple reasons - aside from Satan, Beel, Solomon, and MC (obviously).

He isn't an official member of any student council or governing body, nor does he really have a final say in anything, but he does frequently act as an advisor of sorts. He tends to work with Barbatos on that front, discussing in the background anything that might need discussed or worked on separate from the brothers.

Simeon is a wrath demon, though the change in his temper is hardly noticeable at first. He resembles Lucifer in how strict he is, mostly when he is in charge of something, and his anger that releases when he isn't listened to mimics Satan's.

If they are near each other and angry about the same thing, Satan and Simeon can actually feed off of the other's anger and boost their power. Satan does NOT need the boost, but you bet he brings chaos and destruction tenfold is he has it. For Simeon, though, it practically puts him on par with some of the brothers, if only for a short while.

Socially, he is generally ignored, and nobody runs away from him if he initiates conversation - but he doesn't. Simeon turns into a bit of a loner, a large chunk of his personality and memories gone and replaced with anger.

He's still learning how to deal with it.

His demon form consists of black deer-like antlers (not small but just small enough to avoid being entirely cumbersome) and long wings with bone-tipped feathers. His wings are almost always folded against his back and hanging low, the dangling feathers reminiscent of his angelic cloak with the golden charms. He does have a little black deer tail but doesn't like it being commented on.

(Don't worry about aerodynamics or which animal he represents, it's a magical universe its fine uwu)

General Information

He lives in modest home on the outskirts of the Devildom, somewhat close to the castle in case there's some type of emergency that needs to be taken care of but not so close he gets a super nice house and causes some social uproar. He has a small yard and a garden he tends to meticulously.

I imagine the house as a sort of townhouse (although not a for real townhouse because its it's own thing), two stories tall. The downstairs has a small living room, kitchen and bathroom while the entire upstairs is an open bedroom/office type deal. It gives off a gothic cottage type of vibe. No idea if this is helpful so maybe one day I'll build it in the sims.

He keeps his house tidy but has many bookshelves filled with equal parts books and knickknacks.

As stated before, he is a wrath demon, and because of his memories being almost entirely erased, he had a similar fall and adjustment period as Satan. Also, as a writer, he has an intrinsic appreciation for books. He and Satan get along the most out of all the brothers - the fact that Lucifer has mixed (mostly negative)(?) feelings about Simeon makes the deal sweeter for Satan.

Beel doesn’t dislike him, and while he doesn’t trust Simeon yet he’s willing to see if Simeon is on their side now considering none of his family got hurt. Solomon still trusts him though, but he does get a little downtrodden when he has memories that Simeon doesn’t.

When angry, Simeon smiles sweetly but his voice turns dead cold. Whereas Satan goes feral and seeks destruction like a bomb, Simeon feels more like a sniper rifle that needs careful aim and precision with just as devastating consequences. Shouting and immediate carnage are rare and only come after a severe transgression.

Otherwise, Simeon allows himself to be more playful than before. He doesn’t exactly have snide remarks, but he is an expert at stating the truth in a way that feels like a blade cutting through your confidence.

In true "flaunt what ya got without really making it seem purposeful" Simeon fashion, he wears button-down shirts that are almost entirely unbuttoned. They are always patterned and funky, and he wears them tucked into black pants. I'm thinking something like this (he also has patterns that are more "groovy" than vacation)

Will also occasionally sport a deep v like this

He still acts just as naive and confused if you bring up how exposed he is to him, so its best just to suffer in silence.

When making a pact with MC, he makes sure the mark covers a scar he left and doesn't remember from the war on your shoulder. It feels like a longer-lasting apology.

He still calls you "little lamb," but instead of smiling gently at you like a loving shepherd, his smiles look like a predator baring his fangs at his prey. In a sweet way. In a hot way.

What Does He Remember?

At first, nothing. Demonic instinct claws at him and he lashes out at everyone and everything.

He is still a nightmare with technology. Nobody knows if this is residual from how he was before, a result of his memories being taken, or just a trick.

Occasionally, he’ll remember an inside joke, but only halfway. You’ll say something you don’t realize is from before, and he’ll laugh, almost like an impulse. But then his laugh trails off and he gets contemplative, wondering what, exactly, was so funny about it.

The brightness of the Celestial Realm is hard to forget. The rainbow framing the palace and vast fields appear in dreams. He never remembers anything ‘important,’ but it’s enough to remind him that he was discarded.

The Celestial War hasn’t gone away, not in its entirety. There are certain things like battle strategies that he can’t for the life of him conjure up in his mind, but he remembers the bulk of it. It helps him realize why some of the brothers were/are so aloof towards him - nothing was ever as simple as he thought it once to be. Fighting a losing battle isn’t a choice you make when its for love - its simply the only path available.

(Apologies are so, so hard to dish out when you can’t remember most of your transgressions, though.)

He remembers Luke and will worry himself to inconsolable tears at night just thinking about him. Those thrown away don’t get the privilege of knowing what happens to their friends - and even if he did, Simeon wouldn't be so stupid as to put a target on Luke's back by proving that he was still important to him.

But he can only remember Luke's terrified, teary eyes when he realized Simeon was going to turn on the Celestial Realm in the middle of a war, and how he pleaded with Simeon not to. Luke asked what he would do all by himself, and Simeon hopes to his Father for only one thing - that he figured it out.

This is his sore spot. Nobody is allowed to be privy to these thoughts, not even you. But some days he comes to RAD looking worse for wear and you KNOW something is bothering him. He'll just never tell you what.

[mimedking]

A little Bagginshield Masterlist

A small collection of some of my faves :)

Canon and Canon sort of.

A Black-feathered Omen by birdkeeperklink. Complete - G - 14k You need an AO3 account to view this work!!

Thorin is used to his raven wings being badly received by new acquaintances, but that doesn't mean it still doesn't hurt when Bilbo Baggins does nothing but gape at him when they first meet. And what right does he have to gawk at Thorin's wings when he doesn't have any at all?

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes by diemarysues. Complete- G- 64k

Bilbo Baggins has been plagued with dreams for some months, always filled with the same stranger: big hands, strong arms, dark hair. It seems a mystery until he figures that it is a Dwarf, though this only narrows down his search to every Dwarf in Erebor.

When he overhears mention of a special party in the Mountain he wishes briefly that he can attend. But that's ridiculous. He's a Hobbit, not a Dwarf. Turns out that's not a problem when magic is involved.

A Home for my Heart by Moonrose91. Complete - M - 54k

For things Bilbo could not change, he was condemned to a life of isolation, with the belief that none could love him. And then a Dwarf came to Hobbiton.

Against the pink sky blackberry tangles by vtforpedro. Complete - G - 14k

In which young Bilbo and Thorin meet at a blackberry thicket and grow older together, sowing a love of their own, whether they are near to each other or apart.

Alone this Yuletide by Emsiecat. Complete - G - 91k

After becoming increasingly irritated by overtures of romance from various Shire residents following the death of his mother four years ago, Bilbo is more than ready to resort to desperate measures. That is, up to and including pretending to be in a serious relationship with a certain surly blacksmith currently inhabiting the Bindbale Woods.

It's a good idea after all; all they have to do is pretend to be in love over the Yuletide period and Bilbo's family and suitors will surely leave him alone after that. It's perfect! And nothing can possibly go wrong, right? Certainly nothing as preposterous as falling for one another for real...

An Ode to Broken Things by Wizards_Pupil. Complete - NR - 41k

Headed to Greenwood to see the healer Thranduil, Bilbo Baggins and Gandalf the Grey hitch a ride with thirteen dwarves headed to Erebor.

Bilbo had hoped it would be like the adventures he read. That there would be orcs, sword fights, torture, revenge, trolls, chases, or escapes.

He had never expected miracles or true love.

Hand Me Your Hand by Resacon1990. Complete - G - 1.2k

"You touch my hand," he says, surprised at his boldness, "a lot."

"And what of it?" Thorin's voice is quiet, but his eyes are flashing darkly as Bilbo swallows again and gives him a small smile.

Oak and Mistletoe by HildyJ. Complete - M - 62k

After a life dominated by a strange form of sickness, Thorin is sent to the Shire to seek a cure only Bilbo Baggins can offer.

Roads Paved With Golden Song by drunkonwriting. Incomplete - G - 20k

Bilbo Baggins gains all sorts of unexpected things during the Fell Winter--a shaky accuracy with a bow and arrow, the ability to make a meal with no more than a handful of weeds and some water, the position as the head of his family's household . . .

. . . and an injured dragon left to die in the snows of the Old Forest.

Slapped With the Truth by somanyofthekids. Complete - E - 57k

Bilbo is a (mostly) reformed burglar and a guide with peculiar gifts. When Gandalf arrives with a proposition involving 13 dwarves, a dragon, and a resurrection of those burglary skills, of course he's going to say no.

Shire Treasures by aquileaofthelonelymountain. Complete - M - 7k

When a journey takes him from Erebor to the Blue Mountains, Thorin decides to visit Bilbo. What he doesn’t expect, though, is to become the babysitter for a hobbit boy who sees a lot more than Thorin is willing to admit to himself.

The Handkerchief by MordorIsCalling. Complete - G - 10k

Thorin unclenched his palm and straightened the handkerchief between his hands. It was but a simple thing - just a white cloth with blue flowery patterns at the edges. It was not in the best state, either; it had lost much of its colour and some stains wouldn’t wash off, no matter how hard Thorin tried. Despite his best efforts, it was becoming rather battered indeed.

After all, it had been three years.

The Pursuit of the Whole by AlamoGirl80. Complete - G - 28k

"Love is the pursuit of the whole" - Plato

Some things, Bilbo learned, are simply not meant to be parted.

A case in point.

Alternate Reality AUs

Faunts and Satyrs by HiddenKitty. Complete - G - 63k

In which the Dwarves are Satyrs, because Reasons

I've Grown a Hedge Around My Heart by pibroch. Complete- G - 44k Thorin is a stubborn hobbit!!! :))

"Thorin was the essence of so many Buckland oddities, distilled into one misfortunate young hobbit, much to his infinite embarrassment. Built like a stork, his father had said once, in an example of Thrain Brandybuck’s usual tactless humour. All beak and legs."

Thorin Brandybuck, just recently come of age, still lives in his family’s smial in Buckland, with his parents and two younger siblings. Thorin is an odd duck amongst his relations and neighbours-- unsociable, grumpy, shy, and awkward. And beyond that, he looks rather strange even for a Bucklander, strongly favouring the thick, dark haired build of his Stoorish blood. It defies all sense and reason why Bilbo Baggins, an exemplar of all the respectable traits Thorin lacked, would ever desire a friendship with him.

Bilbo, as Thorin discovers, is not always as sensible as he appears.

We Shall Be Monsters by Erinye. Complete - E - 69k Not everyone’s cup of tea, please be warned before reading.

Haunted by the loss of his loved ones and the decline of his family’s fortune, Doctor Thorin Eijkenskialdi conducts unspeakable experiments in the last remaining property of the once formidable Durins’ estate. Rumour has it that he has grown obsessed with the idea of conquering Death, and that he is fostering some great evil behind the high walls of his castle - something he should be afraid of in the first place. Enters one Bilbo Baggins - is it redemption or damnation?

Frankenstein!AU, featuring unhealthy obsessions, a trip too many to the graveyard, gothic romance, and a reasonable amount of screaming.

Modern AUs

In June and June and More June by Dragonslaeyr. Complete-G- 88k

When Bilbo agreed on a trip to Erebor to clear up the last of his mother's estate, what he didn't count on was falling in love with its gorgeous landscape, the fiercely proud people, and yes, the delicious food. Now if only he could figure out why everyone was acting so strangely around his neighbours...

One-Sided Conversations by northerntrash. Complete - M - 95k

"Thank you for listening," Thorin said, getting to his feet. "I hope to be able to return the favour, one day."

The man on the bed didn't respond, but since he'd been in a coma for longer than Thorin had known him, that wasn't entirely surprising.

Teach Me Your Ways by airebellah. Complete - G - 63k

Thorin sat in a bookstore reading to his nephews. He struggled to read the foreign English text, but he would do anything to please his nephews. Including humiliating himself in front of a cute man with a small boy of his own.

Thorin Durin, forced from his home in war-torn Erebor, struggles to adapt to England’s language and customs. Bilbo offers to help, and amongst many a cultural confusion, their relationship quickly grows beyond simple language lessons.

What Happens in Gondor by lilithiumwords. Complete - E - 28k

When Professor Bilbo Baggins sent Kíli Vinson's paper home with a bad grade, he never imagined that his relaxing office hours would be interrupted by Kíli's terribly rude uncle.

Whom, incidentally, Bilbo had met before and knew rather, er, intimately. (Or The one night stand that Bilbo will always regret leaving behind.)

[timelostobserver]

"When you work with death day-in and day-out, and witness the worst in all beings.. You see things differently." Hades was rarely in a good mood. He bordered on unimpressed, bored and down right bitter most days. And cynically tolerant at best.

But that came from working a demanding, and ever more chaotic job since the dawn of the concept of mortality. Sometimes he wondered what would happen when he reached the last page in the Grimoire, as it was 'meant' to house the name of every human that's ever died.

"So.. Agree to disagree." He shrugged his shoulders. All creatures, be the demonic, angelic, mortal, or some where in-between.. they all had the ability to be completely intolerant assholes. There were just different flavors of it, and some more 'acceptable' in the eyes of the head-honcho upstairs.

He winced at the sound of the scales chiming as they were moved. His eyes turning toward Adam, watching him mess with them.

"Try not to mess with that too much, never know when it might actually see use again." He huffed.

"Was given to me by the big-man upstairs to actually do my job, but since fuck-boy Lucifer came in and told me to operate differently.. it hasn't seen a single heart since." Ah, the days when he'd make a soul place it's heart upon the scale, to be weighed against a feather of all things.

Some thought it rigged, but the heart knew all. The heart carried the burdens and sins of an individual. And while sure.. it could be expelled, cleansed even, it was difficult to do. And most mortals saw no reason for a 'change of heart' during their lives. And kept up their bullshit.

"Last one I weighed on that was the heart of a child. Died at the age of five from cancer. Sent him right up to Heaven that day, then Lucifer bust into my office spouting about a policy change." Hades grumbled, spitting angrily in his words as he leaned back in his office chair.

The Halls of the Dead were not.. a cozy place. It was dimly lit, with dark stone composing much of the structure which looked to be a twisted mix of a gothic castle and a catacomb. Skull motifs were nearly everywhere, from the vases that looked like funerary urns that held flowers representing death, to the statues of skeletons clambering over one another to the sky in moziacs on pillars.

Even Hades desk has knick-knacks of various imagery of this nature. Painted skulls, being among the ones on his desk at present.

Then fountains, found through the halls, adding to the ambience poured in the soul tainted waters from the River Styx, which exhaled an unnerving fog that lingered along the ground. Unlike most of Hell.. the halls were.. cold. Cold and unforgiving.

The last chill any of them would ever experience. Be they bound for Heaven and it's perfection, or Hell and it's horrific heat.

Thus was why Hades always dressed warm, the overcoat, the thick under clothes. It wasn't uncommon for even him to exhale steam on his breath in this place.

But as he watched Adam, he noted the unrest amongst them all. So his observations were true...

"Ever thought about doing your Exterminations twice a year?" He raised a brow at this, looking toward the Angel.

"I don't imagine there's any rule about not increasing it, considering how desperate the situation is starting to become down here." He took his mug in hand, taking a sip of the harsh, black liquid inside of it. He didn't like sugar or cream in it.

Sure, Hades had been quietly 'contributing' to try to cut the numbers down by ensuring some souls never even made it here. But, there was only so many he could sabotage before it got suspicious to the people far, far above him.

And Hades may be a fallen angel, but he still cares little for flexing strength or the like when it came to demons or souls. They were weak, and he simply couldn't be bothered any more. No, he put his scythe down a long, long time ago. And now it collected dust next to the scales.

And cutting it all off at the source wasn't an option either.

"Hmmm.. alright, I thought I'd offer. Though since the last ship ran aground, might be waiting a bit for the next one." Sure, they arrived every few times a day, but the issue is they came bearing the load of thousands of souls.

For every one human that died, three more were born, and they died nearly every few seconds; that added up.. FAST.

"Well sometimes there's one in the bunch that I get to send topside. Maybe.. two out of every thousand, or so. Usually it's children too. Which is fucked up. But.. everyone comes through here... be you a saint or a sinner, or some where in-between." The halls broke into two paths, after all. To Hades left, a simple hallway leading to a staircase that went upwards. It didn't see much traffic these days..

The right went to the other side of the gates, right into Hell. Though it's become more of a damned bus station with how shit was these days.

"Maybe you'll get lucky and get to see that, of all things."

“Some people are not kind you mean.” As he wagged his finger.

He was not in a good mood, quite easy to tell as well, as he wore a golden frown on his features, especially considering that well .. his life was set out for him, to be this regal and grand thing, and yet it did not quite work out like that at all, everything went tits up for him.

“I have no idea what you are talking about.” He looked around himself to make sure that little sly dig would fly right beyond him and not come anywhere near him to stick, he can get away with so much, within a certain level of sense and reason.

He walked around for the moment and looked down at the golden scales, placing a finger upon them to plop one down and raise the other all the way up, more to interest and entertain himself more than anything else, seeing as he was here to merely, see how things are going and then, to bail on out back to the better place.

“They are little bit, feathered.”

As he fluttered his wings for the moment, his golden angels where a little bit on the edge and how can he fault them and blame them for such a thing, they want to get back into the circle of pride, the sooner the better as well, the last massacre was one that was ticking all the boxes, one day a year.

That was all that they had.

A mere one day a year to come down here, fuck shit up enough and then leave and allow them the time to just, do what these little fuckers often do, they kill and then it is all replaced and filled right back up in time for next year, hell was bursting, that was no secret, the population was at the limits, all they have been able to do was trim the fat here and there and nothing more.

He needed more than one day a year, he had the army, he had the power as well, there was fucking nothing a demon could do before an angel, nothing at all. They where too powerful and the demons where too weak, they can fuck around, dick about, kill one another all they wanted, but to an angel they where all the same, just weaklings, just little pests that needed to be crushed right there, right then and removed.

He poked at the scales once more, all around him his golden angels where just, fluttering around the halls, looking at the images and flying around the space, with some on the ground to protect him if anything where to go wrong, but that was hardly an issue, wherever he went, everyone else quickly bailed the moment word got around, even if it was one day a year, if a demon did anything to insult him or try and harm him.

They would get themselves and everyone with them, fucked up.

“No, wait, wait, even funnier, process them, only to prove my fucking point, that everyone who comes here, has no fucking decent qualities at all, they are fucking sent here for a reason, I want them to see it for themselves, how fucked they truly are.”

[amuhseen2003]

SANDERS SIDES KARAOKE: GOTHIC LITERATURE MUSICALS EDITION

Okay, so after four years of being in the Sanders Sides fandom, I’m going to attempt to write some headcanons. Here we go.

Since it’s well-known in fanon that the sides do have karaoke sessions, imagine what would happen if they sang musicals based on gothic literature.

Roman’s happy because broadway, duh, Logan is happy because it’s canon that he enjoys gothic literature since he dressed up as Frankenstein’s monster for Halloween, same reason for Virgil and Patton’s happy that his family is bonding. He made extra cookies for the occasion. He’s dangerous like that. 

(I headcanon that when Thomas had to write analyses of gothic literature novels for school, Virgil, Roman and Logan would work together to come up with stuff and write the best essays in class and Patton would be so proud of them)

I’m not going to count Les Mis because I’m not too sure if that counts as gothic literature and whilst the Hunchback of Notre Dame is indeed gothic (trust me I read that in a plane once. An entire, like, ten pages is dedicated to describing the scenery) I don’t think it became a broadway show.

Now this isn’t like their usual karaoke nights, no sir. Just idly remaining in the living room won’t do. Where is the gusto? The pizazz? The accolade winning extravaganza? The-

“We get it Princey, can you just get on with it?” - Virgil

No, this type of singing can only be accompanied with an atmosphere that will do it justice. To the imagination they go and with Logan’s (who has practically memorised every single one of these books and is not geeking out at all) input on how the novels describe each setting, Roman creates very intricate landscapes for each song.

When they sing ‘Alive’ from ‘Jekyll and Hyde’ Roman thought that it would be really cool for Patton to play Mr Edward Hyde since Hyde is literally the human id and Patton, being the embodiment of morality, is literally the superego (although to be fair, Patton is also shown to be quite childish and impulsive since he’s also the base of Thomas’ emotions and Hyde is impulsive because he’s a way for Jekyll to act on his own emotions - especially since the only crime that Hyde does in the book are him over-reacting with his anger by beating a man to death. And in the novella, Jekyll writes that he and Hyde are like father and son and that Hyde is actually younger than Jekyll is, he does have that sense of childishness that Patton has only instead of that childishness being good and helpful, it’s bad and hurtful. Plus in the soundtrack of Alive, whilst Anthony Warlow does sing about how good being evil feels like, he also sounds like he is crying tears of joy of being able to be himself, the first words post-transformation being freedom and anyways these are supposed to be fun headcanons not analytical headcanons so I digress…)

Anyways Patton is happy to play the villain because “look kiddos, Roman conjured up this really swell cape” “the correct term is cloak” “and check out this top hat and cane!” and he’s just belting out the words and froliking around Victorian London without a care in the world, making his cape swoosh in the wind.

“Patton I would advise you not to take your shoes off. This is nineteenth-century London with people dying of cholera by the dozens, your feet could catch a myriad of infections.”

“Worry not, specs, the scenery is merely an illusion. I would never allow for our dear padre to succumb to the villain of illness”

“Aww, thanks kiddo (cue Patton’s sunshine smile) now where was I? IT’S THE FEELING OF BEING ALIVE! FILLED WITH EVIL AND TRULY ALIVE!”

They have Logan sing ‘I Need To Know’ because a doctor of science singing about wanting to expand his knowledge and having that thirst to do whatever it takes to get said knowledge. That is a Logan Sanders song right there. At first he’s like “why do I have to sing. I was happy enough giving directions and helping you with the scenery” but Roman creates this big scientific library that could rival the one from Beauty and the Beast/ laboratory from that’s practically the identical to Jekyll’s lab in the book and he’s like “Fine” like he isn’t enjoying himself. He is. They all know it. He’s not fooling anyone

Patton and Roman sing ‘Bring on the men’ together (yes, whilst wearing dresses) whilst Virgil and Logan drink apple juice from those big british beer glasses in the mind-scape created Red Rat (which Logan is quick to point out doesn’t exist and is vocally upset at how the musical adaptation added unnecessary romantic subplots with Lisa and Lucy when the book itself only had three background female characters who were only there for like one paragraph. He’s even more upset at the other inaccuracies with the book like how in the play Jekyll creates his formula as a cure for mental illness and Hyde was accidental whilst in the book he did it because he wanted to indulge in sin without fearing the consequences and Hyde, whilst not being exactly what he wanted, was actually created on purpose or how in the book Hyde only kills one man and in the musical he kills practically everyone except for the one person he did kill. Virgil pats him on the back with sympathy). Roman and Virgil are sniggering at the sexual euphemisms at the end of the song whilst Patton’s confused. She just seems really enthusiastic about food.

Roman sings both parts of ‘Confrontation’ by himself. He gets a standing ovation.

He also does ‘Transformation’. The problem is that he was so good at sounding like he was in complete agony and near death that they had to stop the song prematurely because Patton was getting upset. Don’t worry, Pat gets lots of cuddles by Roman afterwords.

(You know what I might do some sides reacting to The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde later because 1. It’s my favourite book and 2. All four of them would have very interesting takes on it)

From the Frankenstein musical Virgil plays the criminal from ‘Say Amen’ because he wants to (seriously, the guy’s first words in the song are ‘I curse the day that I was born into a world so black with hate’) and Logan plays Victor Frankenstein but Patton refuses for his son to even pretend to be executed by the noose so they have Roman play a man wearing a british executioner outfit with a foam sword and the creative side just bonks the anxious side on the neck with it. Logan despairs about the historical inaccuracy from his place in the stands whilst Patton is cheering next to him. Patton also hands him an extra jumper to keep him warm in the Switzerland cold. 

“Patton, I am grateful that you are thinking of my health but no one in eighteenth century Switzerland wore bright blue jumpers with cartoon kittens on them”

“Really, Logan, are you paw-sitive?”

“I would like to change places with Virgil. Immediately” 

Roman and Logan turn ‘Birth to my creation’ into a duet because Logan enjoys the scientific aspect of it and Roman can’t resist the drama (of course). He goes all out. He makes Victor’s lab perfect to the smallest detail (and cheers when Logan’s eyes start lighting up and he does that cute clappy thing when he’s excited), he conjures a storm and makes lightning strike at the best moments of the song. He even creates a ‘wretch’ (what Victor calls the monster in the book. I’ve heard that it’s name is Adam but all I remember from the novel is Victor calling himself god and the creature his Adam) to lie on the table. 

“And we didn’t even have to go grave-robbing for it. Or drop out of University.” - Roman

“No matter how many times I wanted to.” - Virgil

Roman and Virgil do most of the songs from Dracula. The creative side creates this huge, expensive-looking window-balcony thing with glass double doors and billowing silk curtains so that he could dramatically sing ‘the longer I live’ whilst the wind blows through his hair and he dramatically drapes himself on the balustrade so that the light from the full moon hits his figure just right. Patton’s close to crying.

Logan is very eager to give as many facts as he can about nineteenth-century mental institutions for ‘The Master’s Song’. He gets really into the history behind certain treatments and different cases. Roman plays Renfield and the others play doctors. 

Virgil is super into Dracula’s castle during ‘Life after life’. He and Roman duet that song wearing all-black. Logan tries to help Patton’s slight fear by telling him the history behind different pieces of architecture.

Patton plays Christine during Phantom of the Opera

Roman, Virgil and Logan sing ‘A story told’ from The Count of Monte Cristo around a circular table in a dimly lit tavern. Patton takes pictures and drinks hot chocolate in the sidelines.

[killerlookz]

Congrats!!! I discovered you right at the beginning of my obsession for Paul Dano and I have to admit, it's rare that I follow a person! Your writing is so captivating, I didn't want to miss your writings. When you started showing interest in Eddie Munson, I was a little disappointed and was afraid you were going to give up on Dano completely, buuuuuuut… I fell in love with Munson, of course. And realized that no matter what characters you like, I'm going to keep following you. You are part of my daily life and you have a place in my heart!

I choose… THE JETSET LIFE IS GOING TO KILL YOU (stranger things please ~) (and i will be back tomorrow with an another request hehe <3)

The first impression I give is not positive, according to my friends, colleagues and classmates, I look angry and cold. My gothic/metal/i dontknowbutitsalt style doesn't help me. Yet, I am pretty cheerful and have an easy laugh. I am happy to be here !

I am very nervous and anxious, my primary emotion is fear. I am afraid of death, storms, infinity, space, in short, my partner must accept that I am Shaggy AND Scooby.

It's hard to get my trust. It makes me feel like a princess in a castle that is protected by a dragon. One mistake and it's death, one wrong move and there's no going back, the trust is lost forever. And when it comes to my love life, oof… I'm demisexual, it's a bit impossible to win my heart. I'm looking for a Gomez Addams (AND I WILL FIND HIM).

I have BPD. My mood swings are drastic, it is not easy to live with this disorder (for others and for me). I tend to push away people who want to get to know me or give me affection, because I am afraid of abandonment, but I am also afraid of hurting them.

I spend my free time writing, drawing, sewing, knitting and crocheting! … and playing Stardew Valley. No, I won't say how many hours I have at this game, it's terrifying.

(Im French Canadian, sorry for mistakes ><)

first of all... let me say, my goodness! thank you for your kind words <3 you are truly so sweet, so thank you so so much for sticking around with my blog, even passed my dano writings im so incredibly glad to hear that you enjoy my work!!! thank youuu so so so much <3

as for a stranger things matchup: im going to have to say eddie! for starters i think he would totally feel you on the "not positive" first impression thing (which i also totally get too lmao one of my friends recently told me he's wanted to be my friend since he first met me but always put off talking to me because i "looked angry" LMAOO) But yeah, no a lot of people think eddie is "scary" at first glance but it turns out underneath that he's a total sweetheart! so, on that front- you two will definitely know what it feels like to be judged as something you're not at first glance.

secondly, you say you have issues with trust, which is why i think eddie would be a good match for you, as we can see in szn 4 he's like, incredibly loyal to his friends, and he really cares about them a lot, he is not the type to ever get close to breaking your trust once he has it, he's the kind of guy that wants to earn your trust and keep it.

on the anxiety front too, he's also a great partner! while clearly being skittish at times himself, he does seem to try to make the people around him comfortable! for instance, the drug deal scene with chrissy: she's clearly nervous but eddie takes to lightening the mood, he makes her laugh and doesn't take himself too seriously and overall really just helps relieve any of the intensity in the air!

also- eddie would think your hobbies are totally cool, especially in regards to sewing! you could help him with his battle jackets, or patch pants,and DIY-ing his clothes since that's a huge part of the scene!

overall i think of the stranger things characters, eddie would be your best match! :) i hope you are satisfied with your match and again, thank you dearly for your kind kind words <33

this request was part of my 1.5k celebration, want to join? look here!

[legionofpotatoes]

we decided to watch all story cutscenes from the new resident evil village videogame on a whim, since it’s not really our cup of tea gameplay-wise but seems to be this massive zeitgeist moment that made us morbidly curious. And I know how much everyone cares about my thoughts on things I know very little about, so. let’s get into it huh gamers. and yeah spoilers?

for context, I’ve only played resident evil 4 and a small portion of 5. I also read the wikipedia entry for 7’s plot recently. all this to say I was only vaguely aware of how tonally wacky the series was going in

I also completely gave up following the plot of the mutagens’ soap opera, so that paid off in spades here as you might imagine

anyway so that baby in the intro. that baby’s head is just massive. humongous toddlerdome. when ethan finds the baby’s head in a jar later on. there is no way that head would fit into that jar. bad game design. no not even game design. basic stuff. one hundred years in prison for jar modeler

if I see a single functional hetero marriage in video games I will cry tears of joy. I understand their misery is kind of The Point irt them badly working through the hillbilly romp trauma but like. sheesh. at least set that up as an emotional story goal the plot will help resolve. but nope they start off miserable and it goes nowhere

I know I know the mia thing has a huge wrinkle in it but like. not really in terms of dramatic function?? set up a happy end to the re7 nightmare (miranda can keep up appearances for all she cares) and then take that all away from angry griffin mcelroy for manpain. it will still absolutely work to set up the dramatic forward momentum. why throw in this cliche Hollywood Tension in their marriage if you’re not going to address it oh maybe because it’s normalized as automatically interesting because nuclear families are a self-propagating pit of a very narrow chance at emotional happiness relying on social stigma to preserve their empty function oops my baggage slipped in yikes abort mission

I called him griffin mcelroy because I saw his face on twitter and. yeah. I will continue to do this occasionally. my house my rules

... fuck the reason I’m hung up on this is specifically because the rest of the game is so tonally dexterous (which is a shining point to me! more on that later!), and yet they felt weirdly compelled to create the aesthetic trapping of a family-at-odds trope without following it through too well. a sign of both the good and the bad stuff to come

but listen the real reason why I wanted to talk about any of this is to nitpick the fascinating backwards-engineered nucleus of the entire thing; in that this game essentially creates a melting pot of just SO many disparate horror tropes and then makes a no-holds-barred unhinged effort at weaving thick lore to piece them all together. it is truly a sight to behold. like straight up you got your backwoods fright night situation, your gothic castle vampires, your rural-industrial werewolves, and don’t forget your bloated swamp monsters over there, with then a hard left turn into robotic body horror, and the entire ass subgenre of Creepy Doll writ large, and the bloodborne tentacle monsters, and a hellboy angel bossfight, which rides on the coattails of a mech-on-mech pacific rim bonanza, and just jesus henry christ slow down

almost all of these are textural hijack jobs that don’t really get into the metaphor plain of any of those settings but the game sort-of makes an argument that the texture IS the point and revels in it. It is kind of admirable almost. The same reason why the intro felt boxed in and unmotivated is also why the rest of the game just blasts off of its hinges to the point of complete and self-indulgent tonal abandon. I kinda loved that about it. lady dimitrescu made sure to hold her hat down as she bent forward in mahogany doorways and then suddenly she’s a giant gore dragon and you settle in your temp role as dark souls man with Gun to take her ass down. Excellent??

this rhino rampage impulse to gobble up every horror aesthetic known to man comes to head when the game wrestles with its FPS trappings in what is the most hilarious solution in creating visceral player damage moments. Since most cinematics and the entire game is in first person, that leaves precious little real estate for the devs to work with if they really want to sell griffin’s physical crucible. To wit. This dude’s forearms. Specifically just the forearms. They are MASSACRED throughout the story. The poor man lives out the silent hill dimension of a hand model. by the end cutscene he looks like a neatly dressed desk clerk who had decided to stick both his grabbers into garbage disposal grinders just a few hours prior. like in addition to everything else it manages to rope in that tinge of slapstick violence into its general grievous genre collection except this time it IS for a lack of trying! truly incredible

but wait his miracle clawbacks from everything his poor paws go through are retroactively explained away, yes, but far too vaguely and far too late to console me as I sat and watched everyone’s favorite baby brother reattach an entirely severed hand to his wrist stump by just. placing it on there. and giving it a lil twist ‘n pop terminator-style. and then willing his fingers back into motion right in front of my bulging eyes. this game just does not care. it does not give a shit. and boy howdy will it work to make that into one of its strongest suits

cause generally speaking resident evil was THE premiere vanilla zombie content destinaysh for like a decade, right? and as the rest of the world and mainstream media started encroaching and bloodying its blue ocean it went and just exploded in every single conceivable horror trope direction like a smilodon on catnip. truly, genuinely fascinating franchise moves

yeah the big vampire milf is hot. other news; grass... green. although I do love the implication that her closet is just identical white dresses on a rack. cartoon network-level queen shit

apropos of nothing I’ve said there’s also this hobo dante-devimaycry-magneto man, and I can’t believe this sentence makes sense. anyway he made that “boulder-punching asshole” joke referring to chris redfield and it was probably the only easter egg that really landed for me and boy did it land hard. I have not seen him punch the boulder in re5, mind. I had only heard about how funny it is from friends. and here this dude was, probably in the same exact mindset as me, trying to grapple with that insane mental image. with you on that ian mckellen, loud and clear

I advocate vehemently against the shallow pursuit of hyper photorealism in art direction but I gotta admit it works really in favor of immersive horror like this. the european village shacks especially gave me super unchill flashbacks to my rural countryside retreat in western georgia. I could smell the linoleum dude. not cool

faces are weird in this game. can’t place it. nice textures, good animation, but the modeling template is... uuh strange? and the hair. it has that clustered-flat-clumpy look that harkens to something very specific and unpleasant but I just don’t know what. sue me

griffin’s mental aptitude to take all this shit in stride and end every seemingly traumatizing bossfight involving some fucking eldritch being yet unseen through mortal eyes by essentially throwing out an MCU quip is just. What the fuck dude? I mean that was funny how you casually yelled the f-word at a god damn werewolf that you considered a fairy tale an hour ago but are you like, all right?? it was swinging a sledgehammer the size of a bus at you, ethan

oh oh the vampires are afraid of cold and your last name is winters. I get it haha

Pro Gamer Nitpick: boss fights seemed a bit unnecessarily long?? idk why the youtuber we picked decided the ENTIRE propeller man fight counted towards the vital story scenes he was stitching together, but man mr big daddy lite there really had some get up and go huh??

why are they saying dimitrescu.. like that. is it really how you say that word or is the english language relapsing into its fetish for ending every single word with a consonant at all costs

I’m not saying it’s a dramatic miss of a twist in context of all that’s going on, but the “you died in the last game actually and have been DC’s clayface ever since” revelation is low-key. it’s. it’s just funny to me, I dont know what to say. century-old god-witch fails her evil plan after she mistakenly removes heart from what was definitely NOT just some white guy with eight fingers after all

chris realizing he’s about to become the player character and immediately swapping out his tsundere trenchcoat for the muscletight sex haver sweater

the little bluetooth speaker-sized pipe bomb he taped to his knife was nuclear?? really??? I must have missed something because that is just too good. I buy it though I totally buy it. chris just got them fun-sized nukes in his car trunk for, you guessed it, Situations

anyway this is all for now just wanted to briefly touch on how unexpectedly funny and tonally irreverent this seemingly serious game turned out to be. did not articulate any cathartic story beats whatsoever but my god it had fun connecting those plot points. he just fucking put his severed hand back on his stump and it Just Worked todd howard get in here

[cipher-fresh]

Just Out Of Reach

Posting on tumblr due to Discord's character limit, this one's a lot longer than my other ones. A prompt from @marlinspirkhall about how food on the holodeck doesn't exist once you step off it got me thinking. TW for violence, injury, blood, food, eating disorders I think (?? rather safe than sorry) and long-term distress. Thank you for the Federation gothic prompt!

It's fuzzy, you remember the ship leaving spacedock after repairs, and some of the anticipatory silence as the odd lack of Dominion ships greeted your rush toward the Bajoran sector to help recapture Deep Space Nine and the Bajoran wormhole. You had never been this far away from home, but you'd tried to steel yourself. The red alert had blared in your ears, and you don't remember much else. You look down. You're bleeding. You curse, and look around for medical supplies.

You're in a dark building, with debris strewn around. A force field makes it's presence known as a hurtling piece of Dominion ship tailwing is stopped in it's tracks from perhaps it's original destiny of destroying wherever you were. If there was a forcefield up, there must be an energy source. You find you had crash-landed here, as there's an escape pod near the fallen bulkheads. You saddle up with the materials from the escape pod, and hunt around for any available resources on whatever man-made, oxygenated building you'd been lucky enough to land in. You put your bag down, and take off your Starfleet outer shirt. You're still wearing the gray undershirt, and over it you tie the main shirt over the wound. You wish it had been an easier area to tie, like your lower leg, and press on. After a trek over fallen metal, everything from large carts, a whole shuttle, bulkheads and PADDs, you find the opposite wall, marked with a plaque designating it the Miyamoto, a mini-space station hardly the size of a neighborhood street. Some place, you scoff. It feels like a shadowy castle fallen into disrepair, with the flickering lights looking like the occasional sunbeam brightening it. Atmospheric, at least, if it wasn't going to comfortable. It feels as if you could almost hear sad music, accentuating just quite how dark the station was, cold and alone. The Miyamoto station echoes sadly, the destruction and carnage of Dominion and Federation ships making their final stand above the station feeling long off, although you could place it as happening mere hours ago. Continuing onward, you clear a path the best you can of the debris on the ground, in case you round this area again.

You see places that look like shops- the *Miyamoto*, as per it's informational plaque, was a station commissioned and controlled by Starfleet, but it had housed many Federation-aligned planets, that is to say, planets that hadn't joined the Federation for one reason or another, but remained in contact with it, politically or economically. Your journey around the station ends as you look back down at your outer shirt, wrapped around your torso wound, and it's too red with blood for comfort. You take an unfortunate, seething inhale, processing what this might mean. You have no other than the most basic medical supplies on your bag, and you're alone on a mini-space station with debris that was ripe to fall over and crush you at any time. Nobody else seems to have crashed near you. You're alone, on an at least semi-functioning, mini-space station. And you were determined to survive. The bleeding cut on your torso should be dealt with first. Can't look for food or set up a distress call if you're bleeding to death. You take a tricorder from the bag, and scan around for anything useful. It picks up gauze a few meters ahead of you. Better than your shirt, certainly. You navigate toward it with the tricorder's map, and it navigates you to a holodeck, you recognize from the doors. Gauze in the holodeck? You thought the violin music had been a symptom of a bleeding body and the brain processing your day, but no, the violin was louder. Getting closer to the holodeck, that made more sense. It was extremely lucky the program was still running. You walk inside. The inside is a gothic, turn-of-the-century sort of laboratory. Indeed, a holodeck character playing a violin spots you, and huffs.

"You're bleeding. Are you looking for my partner, Dr. Watson?"

You take a moment- oh, this was a Sherlock Holmes program. You doubt Dr. Watson could help you, but then you take a moment to think. Emergency Medical Holograms are just as holographic as Dr. Watson here, and they have helped millions of people. You're too tired to act, so you ask him, "Yes, I need a doctor. Can you get him?" Too much also eating at your mind to enjoy the program, Dr. Watson fixes you up in the flat. You wince at the old medical technology, and wish the two of them lived in a period of time with more current medicinal knowledge. - Wait. "Computer?" you say. "Change the time period to, uh, 22nd century. No, I mean, to today. 24th century. Keep Sherlock and Watson with me." The computer responds to your request, and you see the program change around you. You laugh at the mystery-solving duo's updated outfits for the 24th century, then look back at Dr. Watson. It's a little jarring how seamlessly they continue from the jump in time, but better that than their program stop working. Watson asks a replicator- a holographic replicator, which makes you laugh a little bit, for a dermal regenerator, and you get patched up. "Stick around for a cup of tea?" Watson asks. "Sherlock really wants to know why you broke into our flat." You consider it. You've heard jokes from non-Federation species when trying out holodecks for the first time, "Calories don't count on the holodeck!" Anything you eat here wouldn't sustain you, the minute you left the holodeck. You could activate this program so long as there was energy to the station, but food was a priority. Assuming the *Miyamoto* had been in a tussle just a few hours ago during your fly-over to Deep Space Nine, now was a crucial time to find genuine replicators before they went offline. You leave the holodeck. You see the gauze over your injury (kept for good measure) disappear as you exit the holodeck, but not the skin you'd grown back from the dermal regenerator. The gauze was holographic, but the stimulated skin cells and tissues were not. You follow the path set by rounding around the small, circular station, and tracing your steps back through the cleared path you made. Your injury healed, you could now look around and find something to eat. You follow around a downloaded map of the *Miyamoto* from the plaque's infochip, and hunt down all the replicators marked on the station. One by one, they're all broken, in pieces, or missing. Maybe the station was in poor shape to begin with. You take another trip around- at least you're getting plenty of exercise in, you halfheartedly cheer- and visit all the food shops. You raid the fridges, cabinets and cupboards, and still find nothing. Intending to not be disheartened, you sit down for a moment. Your hunger is suddenly made aware to you, your vision swirling. Not good, you decide. Your stomach hurts, and you try to remember the last time you ate. Breakfast on- on the *USS Halay*. Maybe tea with Dr. Watson wouldn't be so bad, you assure yourself. You have some food with the two of them, think of a new plan, then go back out there and find some food. Some water, while you're at it, too. You walk back, and almost trip over debris you swore you moved out of your path. You enter back to the holodeck, and smell the fresh air. You find Watson and Sherlock again, and you're offered a pastry you can't remember the name of. You eat, and have some tea, and you feel at peace. You're still directly aware of the stakes, you're stuck on a space station in the middle of nowhere, but you're at least still alive. And going from desperately hungry out there to the sweet scent of buttered pastries in here in a still-peaceful London before the Dominion invaded was a sense of home you'd missed. You sat down, and considered your optics. If you left now, you'd probably be just as hungry as before, but here, you could come up with a plan, and make the time before it worth it. You clued in the holographic Sherlock and Watson into it, without exposing to them they were holograms. Quite tricky, it was, but you were glad they got over

their suspicions and were just willing to help. You and the two problem-solvers looked over the schematics of the *Miyamoto*, and found from your walkaround of the station, the replicator at the Bolarian food shop was the least broken- it had gotten halfway to forming bread before it puttered out. Although not quite a chief engineer, this seemed to be your only option. You picked back up your supplies from the escape pod that you'd kept with you, and journey off to the replicator. You feel the distinct hunger pangs as soon as you leave, and almost regret leaving. Little matter. You'd already gone and done it, you might as well make it worthwhile. You get to the replicator, and try to recall your engineering training. Basic engineering design over necessary machines like replicators and transporters were required classes at the Academy, and you couldn't remember a thing from it. You open a hatch at the back and fiddle with some of the wires and steel EPS hubcaps, and put everything back into place. Not ever quite sure what to do, you feel a fog in your brain, you know you're putting a square peg in a round hole as you try to fix this. You screw things on and off, scan it, flip a switch. Closing the hatch, you hit it for good measure, and try replicating food again. It produces a gray slop of what could only technically be edible, organic material. You take your tricorder out and get a holo-scan of it. A moment of darkness in your vision, you fall to the ground. You're really feeling it. You hold a hand to your stomach, and close your eyes tight. It hurts, it does. You could make the feeling go away, if you just went back.

A deep breath, and you turned around. Just back for a second.

Desperate to get back to the holodeck, you're assured you can figure out the replicator's problem with the holo-imager scans. You get back inside, and feel the pleasant, clean air, and walk back inside. Ravenously, you scarf down the food given to you, and you can feel your mind finding clarity again. If you could find a way to fix the replicator while inside the holodeck, you'd be set. You could fix it there, and only be hungry from the minute you walked over to the replicator, no brain fog as you tried to fix it. Maybe engineers had "Don't fix things on an empty stomach" as a rule. If not, they should. You spend a few more hours there, going over the specs of the replicator, sitting in the nice flat. It's an amalgamation of every depiction of 221B ever put to screen, and all the books are real, wholly scripted ones. You chuckle, certainly sure only a man of fiction could read so many books, bookshelves stacked wall to wall. Many of them had frantically scribbled notes and writings in them. After some time, you fall asleep. You're woken up by Watson, telling you again that you need to wake up. You rub your eyes, and consider everything from the day previous. Hungry, stuck on a space station with no food, and surviving in the holodeck. This would be a lovely nightmare to wake up from, eh? Lovely, for the fact you're waking up, you joke. "-get out there and find something to eat or your body will starve. Please. The program-" You burst out from under the blanket on the couch. Dr. Watson looks at you. "Sherlock and I put together that you're on a holodeck. Incredible inventions, truthfully, but what is more important now is your life. You haven't eaten in how long? A human would starve after not eating for-"

"About a week. But without water is a different story. Three days, at most." Sherlock filled in. You swallowed. Wonderful. You look back at Watson. "Please, we're trying to help you. You need to head back out there." That's the last thing you want to do.

Neither of them were being helpful. "Look, we can't leave the holodeck. All we can do is-" "I don't care!" you yell. "I'll just-stay in here until I figure it out." The two exchanged looks with each other. Watson got closer to you. You feel small. Threatened. "You're Starfleet, right? You haven't even given us your name. How about you-" You lash out. "Computer, delete characters Sherlock and Watson." "Not possible." "Fine! Delete whatever you need to get rid of them." "Confirmed." the computer says. The two of them phase out of existence. You breathe heavily. You hope they won't be mad at you. "Computer, change scenery. Somewhere on Earth. As far away from Sherlock as possible." "Changing location to Dunedin, New Zealand." the computer replied. You stop, and catch your breath. You'd just- stay in here. For a while. Yeah.

The systems of the Miyamoto station degrade. The holodeck, over time, begins to lose critical imaging projectors. One corner of the holodeck shows the depressingly bare and black wall, the whole program not covering the entire room. You try not to mind. You sleep. If you could just- just learn how to fix the replicator....no. You have everything you need right in here. Everything....you need. You take an arduous breath. The holodeck doors have sealed shut. The imagers have stopped working. You're trapped inside. A lone Starfleet officer starves to death on a holodeck, over an agonizing three days, just as Sherlock predicted. The Miyamoto station is destroyed by the Breen a year later, unimportant and completely alone. If one listened closely, passing an unimportant, tiny little station, they may have heard faint music of a violin.