#<- (her vision is insane and incomprehensible)

[alfairy]

I need a scene in the movie where William is giving his big villain monologue to Mike, ya know. As one does. And he just offhandedly says something like “You’re not a very good big brother, you know that? You haven’t even asked about your sister.”

And Mike snaps back like “Stay away from Abby, if you hurt her at all I swear—”

Then William pauses for the first time ever, and after a moment he says “I wasn’t talking about her.”

[ervotica]

hehe dark!rafe fucking jj's ex bc she spiraling after the break up and using hella drugs so he's just degrading & using her however bc she's beneath him and he can't help but record it and send it to the male pouge's

warnings; DARK, smut (18+ only), drug use, dub-con (r is HEAVILY under the influence and not very aware), throat fucking, fingering, slight daddy kink, breathplay, degradation (I may have gone insane with this one I fear)

A cruel hand is splayed against the top of your spine where the base of your neck begins, subduing you enough to keep you from thrashing as Rafe curls his fingers against the spongy walls of your cunt. You're alight with pleasure, the lick of a flame igniting your every muscle as you gargle into the sheets below you; you're not entirely sure how you got here but your drug addled brain is too hazy with the white-hot euphoria he is so kindly granting you.

He groans at your blank eyes, breath hot on your skin as he licks a long line against the column of your throat and bites down, taking great enjoyment in the way you wriggle and whine.

"Please," you gasp out, that coil in your belly drawing tighter the longer he keeps his fingers nestled against that spot deep in your pussy that makes you scream.

"Please, what?"

"Please, daddy. Lemme cum."

"Attagirl." His grin is wolfish, teeth pointed and bared like a predator. "Little fuckin' whore, aren'tcha, kid? Bet Maybank never made you feel this good."

You shake your head vehemently, almost incomprehensible where you're drooling into the pillow beneath your balmy face.

He tweaks his fingers once more and suddenly the dull flame of bliss has roared to life, squeezing every one of your muscles like tendrils as you gush and your hole clenches around his thick digits.

The muted roar of white noise is all you can hear for a good while; eyes rolling, lashes fluttering, limp and spent from just one orgasm.

You don't see him next but rather you feel him. A thick mushroom head prodding against your swollen lips, the taste of bitter precum on your tongue as he feeds his cock down your spasming throat. A gag rips through you but he pushes past it, unfazed by your own discomfort as he chases the feeling of your tender gullet tightening around him.

"Yeahhh, that's good," he unabashedly moans, deep and gravelly. His cock pushes at the thin skin of your neck, flesh bulging as he settles your nose in the thatch of hair at his pubic bone, heavy sack pressing lewdly atop your gurgling mouth with every rut of his hips.

Bubbles of spit ooze from the corners of your stretched lips and then you're suddenly blinded by white light. The flash of a phone camera crowds your vision and Rafe doubles down, hips pistoning against your slack face as he groans and grunts, degrading insults pouring from his mouth.

"Dirty slut, all you're good for 's takin' dick, right? Just a filthy little hole for me to use when 'm bored."

You purl and choke around him in an effort to voice your complaints, but all it seems to do is spur him on further.

"G'na have this throat trained in no time, kid. You're my personal cocksleeve from now on."

He wrenches himself away despite being seemingly on the precipice of blowing his load; you gasp and whimper as he turns to prop the still recording phone on the dresser behind him, twisting a large handful of your mussed hair around his hand and dragging you across the expanse of the king sized bed. Your neck contorts in an odd sort of manner as he positions you with your head hanging upside-down from the side of the plush mattress. It gives him ample leverage to use you without care; he's not bothered if you pass out, he'll use you either way.

It's rough, borderline abusive, how he fucks your throat. Hard and fast and unrelenting despite your almost continuous retching and slapping feebly at his thick thighs. The bulge in the divot of the soft flesh only becomes more prominent, his spongy head pushing from the inside as though it's trying to rip through you.

His hand reaches between his own legs to plug your nostrils and a menacing chuckle hits your ears as your vision blurs and your eyes lose focus and roll to the back of your skull.

He lets up just as you're on the cusp of unconsciousness, dick never leaving your warm cavern as he reaches blindly behind him for the phone. Forearms dig cruelly into your ribcage as he props himself up and zooms the camera in on your sopping, swollen cunt, parting your petal soft lips and slipping two fingers inside to bully another orgasm from you.

"If I were you, Maybank, I'd have never given up this tight cunt," Rafe rasps. "Fucked the poor thing dumb, already. 'M keeping her."

He presses send before you can protest- not that you'll ever be able to. You'll be too cockdrunk to ever notice what he's done.

[catholic-character-tournament]

Round 1 - Side A

Galahad art credit @spiralstain

Propaganda below ⬇️

Junk Rat

I wish his Catholicism meant if he got killed in game it would take him 3 days to respawn

Galahad

OKAY SO . "Galahad (played by Jonny d'Ville): a travelling preacher/religious zealot who is told to sit in the Siege Seat by Merlin, and discovers the fact that Fort Galfridian is falling into the star Avalon. He sparks the quest for the GRAIL, and willingly goes to his death to overcome its final defences." DUDE SAT IN THE CHAIR THAT IS KNOWN FOR KILLING PEOPLE BECAUSE HIS CRUSH [MERLIN] [AKA HANGED MAN] [AKA DRUMBOT BRIAN] TOLD HIM TO . SORRY I THINK THATS REALLY FUNNY. he found out the whole shitshow of a spacestation he lived on was gonna fall into the sun and he went around yelling about it incomprehensibly and got fucking gunned down trying to get the GRAIL and just kept going through the gunfire because of how Religious [tm] he was . he died . in once and future king it just "galahad's blind faith" . also hellfire goes really hard . he is the definition of going insane with the knowledge of the universe . also jonny dville played him thats bonus points

There was a prophet. The prophet gave three separate people three separate instructions. 1. Stop being racist 2. Love your son 3. Sit in the Chair That Makes People Insane Galahad received number three. He was the only one who followed the instructions. He sat in the Chair That Makes People Insane, saw the sun for the first time, and immediately starts preaching about how everyone will burn in hellfire

i dont know anything about this guy i just wanna help make Kai happy please dont like not count my submission just because i dont know anythinf except for the Kills You Chair im trying my best im sorry 😭

his themesong is called hellfire and it slaps btw go listen to it. anyways he is my blorbo blingus he is Deeply unwell i could fix him but also whatever is wrong with him is incredibly fascinating to watch. a robot dude who's been hanging from the gallows since forever told him 'hey go sit in the Chair That Kills People Who Sit In It' and he was like 'I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT MY ENTIRE LIFE'. the getting-his-brain-fried thing definitely made him worse but he was also clearly kind of fucked up before that. his death is probably one of my favorite scenes in any mechs album. maybe just straight up my favorite. ahem. SAY WHAT YOU WILL ABOUT FAITH, BUT IT CAN HAVE POWERFUL EFFECTS ON THOSE THAT HAVE IT. IT CAN KEEP YOU FROM FALTERING AS THE BULLETS START TO SLAM INTO YOU. IT CAN KEEP YOU WALKING AS YOU LEGS ARE SHOT TO BLOODY STUMPS. IT CAN KEEP YOU LAUGHING AS YOUR LUNGS ARE FILLED WITH SHRAPNEL AND LEAD. IT CAN KEEP YOU SMILING AS HALF YOUR FACE IS BLOWN AWAY. IT CAN KEEP A MAN LIKE GALAHAD STANDING TALL UNTIL THE GUNS. CLICKED. DRY. anyways go listen to high noon over camelot <3

my friends my people my... flock I HAVE HAD A VISION!! A VAST FIERY ORB FLOATIN IN AN ENDLESS VOID!! and there so small so feagile US!!! BUT FALLIN FALLIN FALLIN INTO THE FLAMES!!! your soul is connected to the world youre in youre draggin it down with the weight of your sin surrounded by temptation and y'just give in we're fallin into the flames OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HEEEEELLLLLLFIIIRE YOUR BROW BECOMES SLICK AS YOU PERSPIRE YOU THINK YOURE THIRSTY NOW WAIT TIL IT GETS DRIER AND YA FEEL THE HEAT OF THE FLAMES OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE YOUR SICK AND SINFUL LIES WILL BUILD A FUNERAL PYRE YOUR PERVERSION SCARS THE STATION SON ITS GONAN FRY HER AND WE ALLLLLL FALL INTO THE FLAMES... oh i have SEEN DAMNATION MY BROTHERS!! ive FELT its searing heat within my VERY BONES !!!!!!! but there is a way me be saved... "OH TELL US FATHER GALAHAD, TELL US" I HEAR YOU CRY "IS IT PIETY IS IT PURITY IS IT VIRTUE?" NO!!! ONLY WAY TO SAVE US NOW IS THE HOLY GRAIL ITSELF... HAHAHAHAHHAAAA.... WELL THAT ORB OF DAMNATION MAKES THE SUN SEEM PALE YOURE QUITE CORRECT TO QUIVER YOU ARE RIGHT TO QUAIL THE ONLY WAY TO SAVE US IS TO FIND THAT GRAIL OR WE ALL FALL INTO THE FLAMES OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE YOUR SKIN STARTS TO SIZZLE AS YOU EXPIRE YOU CLAIM TO BE VIRTUOUS BUT YOURE A LIAR !!!!! AND YOU FEEL THE HEAT OF THE FLAMES ... i said HEEEELLLLFIIIIRE HEEEEEEEELLLLFIRE HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLFIIIIIREEE HEEEEEEELLLLLLFIIIIIIRE OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE AT THE HEART OF THAT INFERNO THAT WILL NEVER TIRE IVE SEE THE END IS NIGH AND DAMNATIONS NIGHER OH WE ALL FALL INTO THE FLAMES

Ok i know this is kind of a shot in the dark because hes so obscure but i need to speak my truth. Hes so insane. The narrator calls him a “holy roller.” He has a vision which is meant to tell him that the place they live is LITERALLY going to get burnt to a crisp because its slowly falling into the sun. But hes like Oh my god i just had a vision of hell i need to save everyone from eternal damnation. And he happily gets killed and turned into a pile of slop because he believes its what he was “chosen to do” he quite literally dies for his religion. Hes also quite funny. I like him. Thank you

[cilil]

Which of the Yandere!Valar would be worst for you to reject?

𝓐𝓝 ~ Hmm... interesting question! I've given this some thought and decided to list a few of them plus the reasons why (hoping I understood what you meant correctly, as in which Valar would have the worst reactions - if not feel free to send another ask X))

𝓣𝓦𝓼 ~ Yandere, possessive and obsessive behavior, hints at violent behavior, emotional and psychological manipulation, unhealthy and abusive relationships

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Melkor

Probably the most obvious answer. Melkor is particularly obsessive and possessive and doesn't take no for an answer, believing that no one has any right to deny He who arises in Might, the true King of Arda. His love can turn into hatred in a heartbeat, and he will do whatever it takes to claim you as his.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Varda

The Queen of Stars and Lady of Light is not only revered, but also feared for a reason. She's used to being adored by everyone and admired as the most beautiful being in Eä, so your rejection would be incomprehensible to her. How could you possibly deny her? And what most people don't know about Varda is that her wrath burns just as bright and hot as her stars, and she can be very vindictive.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Námo

Námo never forgets and has power over fate and death. What a grievous injustice you have committed by rejecting him... but he knows already it won't matter. Because in the end, once death claims you, your soul will fall into his grasp - for eternity if that's his verdict. Even if you aren't mortal, all it takes is a curse for death to eventually find you after all. You can't escape Námo, no matter how hard you try.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ Irmo

To reject Irmo would already be quite a feat, as the Master of Desire has countless tricks up his sleeve to woo you. But even if you do, he too (much like his brother) won't let you escape. Irmo will invade your dreams, twisting them to suit his purposes, and slowly drive you insane with dreams, visions and illusions until you yearn for the sweet relief of his embrace.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

tag list: @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @bluezenzennie @edensrose @singleteapot @wandererindreams

[jq37]

The fact Gerard's vision of a better world is 'none of that 5am bullshit, we wake up at 8 to workout', just the best. I wonder if Ylfa's still got dawg in her, or if that's not a thing in her new reality. Anyway, another great finale for the books, wrapped more satisfyingly than I expected. There were so many threads, I didn't think they would have the time. I was expecting the Top Hat Fairy to do something to help like Turquina, but *shrug*. I suppose Ylfa having that hat for the rest battle was enough help and was definitely not a waste of precious resources. *sighs* So many 20's, so many stressful Box of Doom's, on the edge of my seat the whole time, satisfying conclusions to everyone's story arcs. You can't ask for better than that.

OK this has been sitting in my inbox for a bit for two reasons. The first is I've just been majorly busy with IRL stuff. The second is that I have...let's say mixed feelings about Neverafter as a whole having seen the finale. 

Like, as a vehicle for comedy (which Dimension 20 largely is--makes sense considering the cast is all comedians who are friends. A recipe for shenanigans if I've ever heard one) the season absolutely succeeded. There were very few moments of this season where I wasn't entertained. Thinking about Ylfa saying the phrase, "honking big" will break me every time. Watching the cast lose their mind during adventuring party every week as they descended further into madness was fantastic. And Ylfa going in for the kiss w/ Pinnochio at the end had me dying. 

But as a story? And specifically, as a story ABOUT stories? 

Ehhhhhhhhhhh.

[To be clear, I am talking about MY opinions here. To everyone who really loved how this season wrapped up, that's fantastic! I'm just talking about me and my thoughts. Even when I'm making broad statements, I'm still just talking about me. Cool? Cool.]

Just to start with the broadest thing, it is *insane* to have a finale that is nigh incomprehensible without having watched some bonus content, and honestly, only slightly more comprehensible if you have watched that bonus content. Like, was it FUNNY to see the full cast practically melting as they went feral for the Orange Fairy? Yes, obviously. But it also undercut any sense of like real stakes or weight to the entire affair. 

I'm not the biggest fan of final fights in general because it often feels like just drawn-out math, but I feel like, even factoring that in, the fight didn't feel as engaging as it could because by the second part of the fight, we were fighting characters we hadn't spent a lot of time with. Like, sure, I have thoughts about how the princesses were handled but we did spend time with them. Enough time to at least have some sort of opinion when they were taken down. And enough time for characters to have relationships with them that paid off during their fights--Red taking down La Bete for instance, or Pinnochio reaching out to Mira. With the fairies, we only really met three of them (Turq, The Evil One, and the Godmother), and we really only got a half-decent read on Turq. So it really wasn't that emotionally satisfying (outside of whatever emotion they were CLEARLY getting from their Orange Fairy Acid Trip). 

And then the Authors we know the least about! There were all these meta elements that were introduced in this season that weren't really explored much at all. So that element felt really obligatory to me. It was like, the fighting of a vague concept. Which isn't to say that can't work. They fully fight the American Dream in Unsleeping City 1. But that worked for me because (1) they had the concrete villain of Robert Moses to fight as well and (2) there was a very clear thematic reason they were fighting the American Dream. Put a pin in that, I'm coming back to it. 

The last two big elements in the fight are the Gander who didn't really do anything but by all accounts, SHOULD have been a bigger player and the Stepmother who ABSOLUTELY should have felt more satisfying to defeat because I actually think she has one of the more interesting stories in the story. Unlike the princesses (who struck me as shortsighted and selfish at worst and majorly misguided at best) and the PCs (who felt very rebel without a cause and a bit aimless for large parts of the season), I fully understand why a character who is always written to be evil would want to be like OK, screw it. Burn it all down. But then, at the last second, we get this, "No, wait, I actually wanted to free us all from the authors" thing and it just feels like it comes out of nowhere. Like, maybe giving her her name back gave her back her humanity or something, Fine. But it gave me so much whiplash. We did not spend enough time with her story threads for that to work imo. 

Going back to the Authors thing now. I'm going to skip over a bunch of my logistical questions about them (Is that one ink hand speaking for all Authors? For only some? What even is an Author in the context of this world? Is the world that exists above the Never After even really our world? Fairy Tales don't even have set authors most of the time. They're oral tradition. What does killing an ink hand do mechanically in the actual world? Did they kill the entire concept of storytelling or just give one person bad writer's block? ) and go to my thematic question which is, what is the tone that was meant to be struck here? Or I guess rather, why was this the tone struck? The idea of Authors as a malevolent force and that never really being challenged is so bizarre to me. Because storytelling as a concept exists in their world. So why would they assume malevolence rather than people who just don't understand they're playing with the lives of sentient beings? Like, I get the concept of seeing something just beyond your meagre comprehension and cracking. I really do. But that really only happened when Tim saw the ink. Everyone seemed to just jump on the "Authors Evil" bandwagon and didn't examine that further. And I guess you're not obligated to look further into the people who are controlling your life against your will (though, I really don't understand to what degree the Authors were actually doing that--add that question to the pile) but that makes for a very unsatisfying story beat. 

But even outside of that, it's a weird take on storytelling from a storyteller in a medium where you're seeing the storyteller on screen at all times along with the other six storytellers who are telling the story. It's like, an insane level of dissonance, watching someone narrate about how Authors are so cruel and uncaring while watching seven people who are so passionate about what they do, clearly having a great time in the world they created. It made that thread ring hollow to me. And I'm not trying to do some kind of pedantic gotcha like, "Oh ho. You said storytelling is bad and yet you are a storyteller. Interesting." That's not what I'm saying. If you want to tell a story about control and lack of control and agency and all that, then I can see having your players play characters who are being controlled by authors. But it wasn't explored in a way that made any kind of point other than, "Free will is good." Which...yeah. And I initially thought it was very cool that they were telling a story about character feeling like they didn't have agency in a medium where we literally have to watch the "extraplanar beings" controlling the characters' agency because I thought they were going to do something interesting with it but they never really did. Frustrating. 

There were hella loose ends that were never tied (What actually caused the Neverafter to merge? What does the Auroratory actually do? What caused the times of shadow*? What was going on in the other worlds?) but lastly, I just want to touch on the loose ends that actually *were* tied. Specifically in the epilogue. 

So the idea here is everyone gets to write their own stories. That sounds good in theory. But, in reality, people are gonna have wishes that contradict. And people are gonna have wishes that are bad. And people are gonna have wishes that control other people. Like, in this new reality Tom Thumb wakes up at 8. But that's what Ger wants. Is that what Tom wants? In this new reality Elody and Ger are divorced. Did they both want that? What if one of them didn't want that? What if multiple people want to be married to the same person? What if multiple people want to be royalty of the same place? What if multiple people want to be despotic dictators or the same place?

I'm not going to go through every epilogue, but Roz's in particular gave me pause. Not because she decided to not give herself a true love and in fact specify a cruddy dating life for herself--wouldn't have been my move but do you girl. No, it made me go "huh?" because Siobhan said that in this rewritten version, instead of avoiding spindles, she gets really good at handling spindles, and then when the witch shows up with a spindle, she knows how to handle herself. But that's just like...not how Sleeping Beauty works? Like, it's not that Auora's curse takes hold because she was bad at spindles. It happens because she was cursed to die (softened to sleep) when pricked by a spindle on that day and time! Michael Jordan could have been cursed to die via basketball on his 25th birthday and no amount of talent would have saved him because it's not about life experience. It's about magic. And like, I get that she wanted to have more agency in her story but that's just like...not Sleeping Beauty at that point. If she had been like, "So I spend my whole childhood preparing to face the evil fairy and defeat her in a battle of wits/magic/sword fighting/Uno/etc before my curse takes hold instead of letting people solve the problem for me" then that would have tracked for me. But as is? That was just bizarre. 

And then also the fact that the Stepmother AND the Gander were just like, good in this world? The stepmother, I can maybe kinda sorta buy. Like, I have questions 100%. Was this what Cinderella wanted? For her abusive stepmother to just get a clean slate to be in her life again? We're not given any indication that the Stepmother is really a nice person who is being forced to play into the villain kayfabe by her puppet masters and really in her heart just wants to be good. But that COULD happen (and I wish it had) so sure. Fine. But the Gander? The Gander, this primal force, just wants to be good and wander? First off, not the main thing here, but if I was Tim and this dude made my son turn to bones I'd be like??? No??? But also, I thought the Gander was like, a force of the universe! The opposite of the Goose! Yin and Yang type stuff! He can just be good with no cosmological consequences???

(Also, as I said, it's really kind of jarring to watch these characters like struggle for control of their stories and then just, in real time, while 6 actors put words in their mouths about what their best life is. I know that's the nature of the game but it doesn't make it not weird to watch.)

In conclusion, I found this season exceptionally funny but also not very narratively cohesive. I really wish it had come together a bit better because I really love fairy tales. My thesis project right now (which I'll probably share on here when I'm done with it)  is a fairy tale retelling and the last major writing project I worked on had a lot of fairy tale inspiration as well. I think there were a lot of potentially interesting ideas in this season! Pinocchio asking why other kids get to mess up but he can't is a great beat. Pib as an incarnation of an archetypical trickster spirit is inspired. The effects of a True Love's Kiss spell wearing off as your marriage crumbles has interesting implications. But it didn't coalesce in what I felt was a satisfying way. I admire the effort that went into this season and would love to see Brennan's notes because I'm sure there's a lot we never got to (some of which might answer some of my questions) but as is, it felt a bit overstuffed and underbaked. 

*OK, we actually did get an answer to this question, but it was so tautological as to be basically meaningless and I would like a more in-depth answer. 

PS: Oh! I got kind of carried away and didn't answer everything in your message. Let me fix that! 

-I think Ylfa is just a normal girl now. I did think Roz taking her in once she was separated from the wolf was very sweet. I have some existential questions about the splitting situation but the moment was still sweet regardless. I do like that people still draw her with the wolf ears though. Wolf ears are always fun. 

-It *is* very funny that Ger had a page to write literally whatever he wanted and that made the list. 

-I am fascinated by what would have happened if they'd failed that roll. I know Brennan said they'd have time looped back to the start and ended on a bummer note, but I mean like, what would the table's energy have been like. They've never lost like that before. Still haven't. And I didn't really *want* them to but also...my fatal flaw is curiosity so you know...

-Them fighting fully corrupted Tim would have been interesting too. What a cool what could have been. I'm sure there are so many of those. 

-That damn Top Hat. Do you think they're actually gonna sell that with the rest of the minis or keep it?

[wren-kitchens]

*slides into room* did someone say.. warden wren?

it's loud. it is far, far too loud in here. wren can barely hear what ange is saying over the rain drumming on the surface of the lab, the lava bubbling in the walls, the occasional eerie noise echoing through the underground room. stiff says something, her voice overlapping ange's, and wren wants to cry. even their own heartbeat is too loud, slamming against their chest, pounding in their ears, joining the cataclysmic cacophony of chaos. that no one else seems to hear. they can't understand it; wren's head is beginning to ache from the onslaught of noise, and they squeeze their eyes shut to block the lights – when did they get so bright? – but no one else has even mentioned it. is it just them? he feels like he's going insane, how can they be the only one affected by this? wren wants to run, to escape, to hide in their quiet mountaintops until they stop feeling like they're about to throw up. maybe no one would notice – after all, they can't make out one sound from another anymore, what's to say anyone else can? suddenly, there's a hand on wren's shoulder. they startle, jumping out of their seat, eyes flying open. the fluorescent lights make their already aching head pound. they can't focus on anything – it's all just a blur of blinding sterile white.

wren's breathing is shallow, hands starting to feel almost staticky. everything is distorted and incomprehensible – the sounds, the room, themself. that mountain hideaway is starting to sound more and more inviting. how can they get away- how can they escape? there's an incoherent call from somewhere to wren's left, and they let out a whimper as it reverberates inside their skull. they just want to go home. why can't they go home? a blurred blob of colour breaks through the painful white, and wren tries so hard to focus on it; it's no use. it must be a person, as there's a garbled noise that has to be speech coming from it, but wren can't make out a single word. it's too much- it's all too much- they can't stand it anymore. wren backs away, hands over their ears, determined now to get to the mountains and hide until it's all over – but the blob- the person- grabs their wrist and holds them still. people are shouting, the sound echoing off the walls, drumming into wren's mind. they're sobbing (when did they start crying?), pulling desperately at the thing keeping them in this hellish world of sounds and light, but it won't relinquish its hold. why do they have to stay trapped here? why won't this person let them escape? wren whips their head around, looking blindly for any kind of escape, and only finding more colourful blobs, just like the one keeping them trapped. they're stuck, they're going to be kept here forever, there's nothing they can do. they try to speak, try desperately to make these people understand how much they need to leave, but it comes out an unintelligible mess of noise. that's it. they're stuck, they're never leaving this place, they- they have one more thing they can try.

eyes screwed tight, hands blocking their ears, still trying to make themself as small as possible, wren screams. a guttural, agonising, pleading scream – their last hope of escape. and it works. the grip on their arm is relinquished, and they don't stick around to ask why they ever tried to keep them there in the first place. they run, desperate to leave that otherworld of suffering behind, bent on finding the mountains again. it's dark outside – cool and dark and safe. it takes wren an hour for their vision to be restored, and only a little less to be able to make out individual sounds again. even then, another ten minutes to realise the insistent buzzing isn't the aftermath of the explosion of sounds, but their communicator. <1Bakasheep> wren? <1Bakasheep> wren are you alright? <1Bakasheep> do you remember anything? <LightOlives> wren im sorry i didnt mean to are you okay <AtypicalFish> judas is with me. don't try and contact either of us. you hurt them more than they'd tell you. wren drops the communicator into the snow. oh void. the colours- those colourful blobs- those were judas, ange and stiff. they- they hurt judas. who else did they hurt? who else will they hurt? what have they become?

[loveskilljoy]

been having some EXSTENSIVE thoughts on runesmith caryll my friend runesmith caryll as of late and feel the need to share with the world. so. quick comprehensive list on hcs for them !

it/they agender + intersex realness first and foremost bc like. cmon youre gonna have a character who’s canonically only referred to by name and not pronouns and expect me not to make them some type of nonbinary?

its like. Shockingly tall but since they slouch 90% of the time people don’t really clock it until it stands up properly. like 6′1 ish

speaks in the third person and also is like. borderline if not completely incomprehensible (its the autism and also the mild eldritch madness) to everyone outside of laurence since i think the two are close (went to byrgenwerth together) and even still sometimes it just says Things

now for a silly one caryll is Currently the Host of Formless Oedon. that sounds fucking deranged but basically i think that while oedon enjoys the freedom that comes from lacking a form, he does also like being able to do certain things he cant as a great one through possession of caryll. its an entirely mutually beneficial thing. like its essentially symbiotic. so oedon gets a fun human form and caryll gets to not die of frenzy bc it gets great one plot armour !!! fun for everyone (this also means that sometimes instead of referring to themselves as caryll it’ll straight up just call itself oedon)

as a weird result of all the insight they’ve gained, its hair has gone completely white and so have their eyes (as in the pupil and iris are white) so it wears a black cloth blindfold over its eyes instead. mostly not to freak people out too much but thats kinda counteracted by their incredibly Strange and Offputting demeanor 

caryll gets everything from prophecies and premonitions (be it through visions or just this inherent knowledge gifted to it) to glimpses of alternate timelines. which. should totally have made it go insane by now but like i said, oedon’s got that covered

when it comes to bad premonitions, as soon as it receives them they’ll often get just awful headaches or will start wailing/clutching their head and babbling about said premonitions and how “oedon cannot tell you what it saw, oedon cannot change what it saw!” due to thinking its not within their right to dictate others’ fate as no singular great one rules over that. they hold a lot of guilt over not being able to tell people of these prophecies and also usually end up bedbound until the prophecy has come to pass 

caryll can talk to other great ones, though not as personally as with oedon. it speaks with ebrietas as well as the great one residing in ludwig’s holy moonlight sword, the name of which caryll says is “ianthe,” but that her (actual) name is not made to be spoken of in a human’s tongue. ludwig is utterly bewildered by the fact another person can hear his fucking sword

[sepublic]

I unironically kind of consider Centaurworld to be art. It’s just so wonderfully weird and inexplicable, so self-indulgent and unabashed in its expression of what the creator desires for herself... Megan Nicole Dong is completely unhinged and unleashed and doing what SHE wants for herself; That type of work that is fully for the creator, for others to figure out what to make of it, is honestly kind of impressive. Megan doesn’t let anyone stop her and just unapologetically goes for what she does, and so the resulting show feels pure and unadulterated in what the creator is conveying; She doesn’t slow down to try and explain, because she understands herself and so we’re left trying to see through and comprehend HER mindset just to make sense of it all.

It makes no sense, but some of the best art speaks for itself and really is art for its own sake, so I consider Megan Nicole Dong to be quite the mad genius. It’s like she’s totally in the moment and not pausing to let expectation of reception influence her, unless as part of her own meta joke based on fandom in general (hence the Birdtaurs). This show is pure insanity and madness, Megan Nicole Dong is an incomprehensible madwoman thrashing like a storm as we helplessly do all we can to adapt and comprehend, even as she cares not for our comprehension or what anyone else thinks of it, I love it. She is not burdened by any expectations whatsoever, just pure art because of it; Like that proverb of how an archer will never miss until they’re shooting for an award. She made this solely for herself and it shows, this lady has a vision and we WILL look at it!

Whether you like it or not is up to you; But it still IS art, because art is subjective and not for everyone. But this is definitely for... I’m not sure who, but whatever target demographic this is, it really hits!

[hailene]

Blood Red Running Hood

𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖜𝖔𝖑𝖋!𝖜𝖔𝖓𝖜𝖔𝖔, 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍!𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟐.𝟑 𝐊

𝒹𝒶𝓇𝓀 𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓈𝓉| 𝓋𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓃 𝒶𝓊

The cold foggy morning was sending chills down your spine, the coldness reaching all the way to your flesh, to your bones. It was about to rain, you could tell. But nothing could stop you from going to your granny's house, in order to take care of her like you always said you would.

The thing is granny was dead.

You found her months ago, blood dripping from the corner of her mouth, sheets stained. You were horrified, not having seen anything like that before. But back then, a tiny little part of you sighed in relief. Granny was dead. The evil witch you had always been forced to take care of was now dead.

More than that, however, granny was murdered. And as you locked gazes with the murderer minutes after you found your grandmother dead, you body froze. You had heard about werewolves, you knew they existed, but the villagers had always tried their best to protect themselves from such creatures by going on patrols at night, killing anyone and anything that was out of the common. Your village was a small, simple gathering of poor houses. But it was tinted with so much sin and blood that it seemed like the village itself was cursed.

You had heard about werewolves. But you'd never believed you'd actually see one with your eyes. And more than that, you had never thought they would look so... human.

Probably, you would have never been able to tell the man sitting in front of you wasn't exactly human if it hadn't been for the steel-like glint in his eyes. And for the blood smearing at his lips.

For a moment, you were frozen, fear pumping through your veins and making it hard for you to breath. Then, you blacked out.

When you woke up, hours later, you thought you were in heaven. You were sure, absolutely sure that you were dead. But the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes were the steel-like eyes from earlier... except this time, they held some sort of warmth.

You looked around, realizing you were still at granny's, in her bed, with a new mattress, her lifeless body nowhere to be seen. The man sitting on the side of your bed smelled like rain, like mud, like the cold woods and the ashes in the chimney.

"I am Wonwoo," he said.

And you realized the smell was calming you down.

It's been a few months ever since then, a few months ever since you have started lying to everyone around you that you were taking good care of your beloved granny. When, in fact, you were obsessively visiting the small cottage just to meet Wonwoo. Again and again and again.

"What if they find out?" You remember yourself asking in fear one night, between two desperate kisses.

You remember him looking at you with so much love in his eyes that you could feel yourself melting, you remember wanting to pull him closer, closer... even though there was literally nothing between the two of you anymore, physically.

"Then I'll burn the whole damn village down," he answered before starting his hot work on you for the nth time that night.

Just to save you, you knew.

He was driving you insane.

Maybe that was why you couldn't help but come back to him. Again and again and again and...

When you enter the house, you find Wonwoo standing next to the hob, the delicious smell of food tingling your senses. You hum in delight as you close the door and take off your red hood, softly stepping towards the man. You hug him from behind and he lets the pots boil on the hob as he turns around to face you, kissing the top of your head gently. He smelled like rain, like mud, like fire and cold water. He smelled like home.

"I missed you, love," you hear him humming, filling you with warmth.

You haven't had a proper dinner in so long. You didn't have time for that, since you were always busy collecting the mail from the villagers and writing replies in the name of your beloved dead granny. She has always been seen as the wise woman, everybody was asking for advice from her. You knew everybody's secrets, you held way too much power for a little, young, unskillful witch.

But they didn't have to know that.

You occasionally told Laurette, your care-giver, that you'd stay over at your granny's. The woman was obviously glad that she wouldn't have to make sure she gives you any sort of dinner. You didn't quite stand her either. Ever since your parents passed and you and Kai, your younger brother, were given to Laurette to take care of you until you'd be able to take care of yourselves, your life had been a never-ending series of cloudy days. Kai used to be the only one able to cheer you up after a long, tiring day.

But now, Wonwoo could do much more.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as he goes down on you after the dinner, the dim light of the candles painting his skin in godly shades of gold. He was a murderer, an evil, a beast according to the villagers. That's why they didn't have to know about him, they didn't have to know about the two of you.

You had to admit that despite his humanly appearance, his werewolf features were showing sometimes, especially in bed. Sex with him was amazing. He was teasing, rough, but extremely good and even though you could have been scared of the extra-terrestrial strength of his choke-hold, you couldn't help but feel lured in towards him. You were obsessed.

"You should stop coming around for a few days, love," Wonwoo whispers after collapsing next to you.

You knew why. The full moon was coming.

He kisses you softly as you drift away to a sweet sleep. He was gone when you woke up the next morning.

When you returned home that day, you could feel that Laurette's gaze on you was different. Even if you didn't want to pay attention to it, the tiny drop of magic that was running through your veins was making it impossible for you to ignore it. It was almost like you could taste the fear in the atmosphere at home.

"What's wrong, Laurette?" You ask as she passes by your room with a heap of rags in her arms.

She looks at you for a few moments, as if she was surprised that you took notice of her behaviour. Then, she shakes her head, rushing towards the kitchen like she'd seen a ghost. You frown, unable to understand her behaviour. Did something happen while you were with Wonwoo last night? What could it be?

The answer, however, was about to be given to you in the form of Kai hastily waking you up the following night, incomprehensible cries and panicked whispers escaping his lips.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong, baby boy?" You ask while cupping his puffy cheeks, sleep still clouding your judgement.

"Fire, Y/N, they fire," your little brother cries.

You frown confused, rubbing your eyes to wake up.

"What fire, baby?" You ask as Kai starts crying harder. "What are you talking about?"

"They're coming, I've heard they want to burn the witch on a rug, Y/N!" He cries and your blood runs cold.

They can't possibly know, can they?

"Witch, baby boy? What witch?" You ask softly, trying your best to hide the panic.

"I-I think they were talking about y-..." he tries to say but you cover his mouth softly, your limbs already shaking.

"What else did you hear, baby?" You ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

"They w-went to granny's h-house," he cries softly. "One of them wa-was... killed by-"

You didn't need anything more than this.

You get up from your mattress and put some clothes on, helping Kai to dress up as well. You take your blood-red hood and put it on, kneeling next to your brother afterwards.

You could already hear loud voices outside.

"You go to the water wheel and hide there until I come to get you, okay?" You speak, holding him tightly. "If I don't come by dawn, you run and never come back here, okay?"

"B-But, Y/N–"

"Y/N loves you, baby boy, Y/N loves you so much," you whisper as tears come streaming down your face.

Kai starts sobbing too. It breaks you.

"Chin up, baby, okay?" You say, trying to get a hold of yourself. "Just have faith and trust Y/N."

Before your brother can say anything else, you jump out the window.

You run through the night, far away from the angry voices and fire torches. You run through the woods, mindlessly, only having one thought in your mind.

Wonwoo.

Was he okay? Did he kill yet another villager? You were aware of the fact that he was so far from being a saint and that it wasn't the first time he'd kill one of the people in your village, but that only made you love him more. You weren't much of a good character either.

As you reach the cottage in the woods, you realize it was vandalized. The few pieces of poor furniture were broken, pots, candles and papers thrown on the floor. The few remaining potions, herbs and spell books you had stored were all torn open, pulled out from the secret places you thought you had secured them in. It was all a mess, a bloody, ruthless mess and the deep animal scratches on the wall weren't making it any better.

No sign of Wonwoo.

As you look around more carefully, your blood runs cold. You shouldn't have come here.

It was a trap.

"The little witch is here," the man in front of you shouts and you here footsteps coming from the outside.

Before you can turn around and run away, more men enter the cottage, blocking your way, and panic rises from the pit of your stomach, your vision getting blurry. Seconds later, you feel something hard hitting your head from behind, letting you fall in a dark abyss.

Before you open your eyes, you feel warmth, heat. You feel fire. And as you open them, you realize why. Your body was tied to a wooden rug, surrounded by a circle of flames. It was hot, almost unbearably.

"The witch woke up! It's time to burn her back to hell!" You hear someone screaming.

Your eyes meet Laurette's figure and you feel your whole body filling with so much rage that you swore the flames around you started burning brighter. And then you see it, the whole village gathered around you in hateful circles, looking at you as if you killed their families. Maybe you did. But not intentionally.

Rocks and sticks were being thrown at you, curses and words spit in your direction, but nothing that your mind and body could cope with. Your time has arrived, you were getting the fate that you deserved, so now, you could only hope that your brother and your lover were going to be okay.

You are a witch after all. You are evil. And you have been too stupid, too careless to keep on living. You deserve to die. You deserve to be burnt on a rug.

As one of the villagers approaches you with a lit torch, you hear a freezing growl, not that far from where you were. Moments later, the fire surrounding you starts reflecting in different places. You think it's your mind going insane, you think it's your vision getting damaged by fear, by defeat, by the unnerving warmth the flames were attacking you with. But as you hear the growl getting louder and the panicked screams of the villagers running around, you realize something went wrong in their plan.

You can't help but laugh as the villager who was coming towards you starts running for his life, screaming as the grey wolf with fire in his eyes starts chasing him. You couldn't be afraid of the wolves. You couldn't be afraid of Wonwoo.

People slowly disappear, corpses taking their place, the fire slowly starting to take over the whole town. You were surrounded by a realm of flames and you felt like you were on fire yourself, but you were laughing like a maniac, unable to control yourself.

Your curses worked. This God-forsaken village was now burning to fucking ashes.

You feel something or someone untying your wrists and ankles from the wooden rug and as you turn to look next to you, you meet the steel-like gaze of the man you were so in love with. He picks you up from the torture place and rushes out of the fire, running and running until you can actually feel the cold night wind whipping your bare skin.

Wonwoo turns around to look once again at the burning village, the fire contrasting with the dark night in such a sinfully-pleasing way. You adored that.

"It's finally gone," he whispers, your mouth watering at his hoarse voice.

I'll burn the whole damn village down, you remember.

You pull him by his torn shirt and he looks at you, warmth shining in his eyes brighter than that goddamn fire. You kiss him hungrily, tasting the smoke, the blood and the mud on his lips. It was all sweeter than honey, more addicting than any sort of herb you've seen before. This was Wonwoo, the forbidden taste you have always, always been longing for. Now you had it. And in the devil's name, you regretted absolutely nothing.

"The water wheel," you choke out as you pull away, your lips swollen, tinted with blood. "We have to find Kai at the water wheel."

[badboyfriends]

Bets Against The Void Ch3

Well. it’s HERE. sorry it’s a bit short, if I fit in the next events then it would well succeed a reasonable amount of words. about 1500, a few words off.  Reblogs fuel me 1000% more than likes. please enjoy and comment any typos ‘n stuff

my askbox is also temporarily turned back on, for this!! after a few days they’re closed, and i’ll hopefully go back to queuing up a bunch...

This is crossposted on AO3

and for Chapter 1, head here

Chapter 4 is HERE!

and @petrichormeraki Hope you didn’t forget about your Whitelist AU :)

Now that they were settled in their boats, Tommy was given a moment to realize where exactly it was he was going. And, oh shit. The builds he could see were bigger than any one solid, finished structure he’s seen on the Dream SMP.

Pockets of strange, purple clumps of spores poked out by the shore, in contrast to the rest of the island. A portion of hte island, too, was covered in the crimson netherrack. It was absolutely insane- Tommy didn’t think he’d ever seen buildings quite like them.

“...Holy...Fuck..” He voiced, breathless.

The brunnette woman in the boat beside his frowned, peering over her and Grian’s own boat. “We’re not exactly a PG server, but I think we’d all appreciate it if you tried to keep your language just a smidge cleaner,” She’d passively comment, eyes narrowing on the blond boy who turned to glare at her.

“Stress, they’re teenagers.” Grian would laugh, before the blond would be given a chance to respond. “I’ve heard Doc’s drunk ranting. We’re definitely not clean.”

She turned, raising a brow at the dirty blond. “Grian, I haven’t heard you say a naughty word, even once!” She chuckled, tilting her head.

“Sure,” he remarked agreeably, “but I was a teenager.”  Giving a small, sharp smile, he turned his head back out to sea.

Tommy, huffing with effort as he continued rowing his and Tubbo’s boat, felt the fight sizzle out. His defenses dropped, too busy looking at the buildings cluttering the island. Masses of structures, all of varying sizes and designs, were impossible to look away from.

As if remembering suddenly of Tubbo’s lack of perpetual vision, he turned, nudging their arm.

Tubbo practically jumped, almost tipping out of the boat. They pulled their arm out of the water, where they’d been contently dragging their arm along, and tilted their head towards their friend. “Huh? Uh- hey! Sorry. I was spacing out. Are we there?”

“Nope,” Tommy shook his head. “But this island looks insane! Seriously, what the hell? How many of you people are there! What the FUCK is this place!” He gawked, turning back towards the Hermits. Considering Stress only gave an exasperated smile, he didn’t feel too bad with his language.

“Our Cowmercial district! Mind the, uh, terrain. We’re in the middle of handling a.. Disagreement.” Grian chuckled, a wolfish grin sprawling across their face. “Just for the principle, y’know?” 

Tommy stared blankly at the back of Grian’s head, the older Brit unphased.

“..Sure, right. But no! What the fuck! I’ve never seen, like, half of those blocks before in my life! What are those buildings?” He gawked.

The strange, shadowery mansion- intricate patterns and overheads marking each wall, with scales on top. A giant chest! With..Eyes? It was twice the size of the community house! He could see four separate beacon lights! At least!

“Tubbo! There’s a- a huge ass chest with eyes! And a fuckin’ mansion, and it’s all dark and shit! Is- is that a cloud made out of glass, up there? What the fuck!” The boat was practically rocking as he cried out.

“Tommy, we’re gonna fall in, Big Man!” They chuckled nervously, grasping at the wooden walls of the boat. “Are all the buildings huge? I bet they are! I heard Hermitcraft servers always have huge builds!”

“Yes, and there’s SO FUCKING MANY! WHAT THE HELL!”

“You’ll be able to see them in time, don’t worry!” Grian chuckled, drawing his boat into the shore. “We have a lot of builds, we’re almost a year into this world. These are just our shops! You’re more than welcomed to pick up something if you need it.” He explained breezily, throwing his legs over the sides as he pulled himself to land.

“We’re sure you don’t plan on staying long, and we can’t blame’ya,” Stress added on, as Grian helped pull her out of the spruce boat. “But we’re sure there’s some necessities you’ll need.”

Grian beside her nodded, pulling up his Tablet. “I have shirts and hoodies that should fit you guys, and some other Hermits would happily pitch in. We have more than enough resources to house you two.”

Tommy, who’d already pulled himself and Tubbo out of the boat, slumped, rolling his eyes. “We’re fine. Thanks.” He tackled the last word on half-hazardly, his lips drawn down into a scowl.

“Mate, whenever your server’s ready, we’re happy to get you back. Or get in contact with your Server Admin now, even. You just need to say the word to X, and he’ll take care of it.” Stress looked over the two, her brows pinched as she looked over them.

What in the Sun’s name is happening over there to leave these two so roughed up? She thought idly, noting it in the back of her mind to bring them potions later.

“C’mon, we can get you more situated later, if that’s fine with you two. You both need to eat, asap.” 

Food. Right. That’s a thing, Tommy pulled his stares away from the towering structures, naturally slipping his hand back into Tubbo’s.

The two Hermits led their way at a slow and even pace, the two teenagers trailing behind. Tommy and Tubbo both were quietly thankful for this. They were less quiet when it came to Tommy’s rambling, incoherent rants from his attempts of describing the District to his friend.

Whatever works to get them on their way, the pair of Hermits agreed, sharing a look.

It was a struggle all of itself, getting them both on track to the bakery. Tommy had poked his head in every building they crossed, with Tubbo going at an increasingly slow pace, trying to allow their Communicator to describe the complex surroundings.

They made it in decent time to the bakery, all things considered.. Tommy’s jaw dropped at the size of it, bright blue eyes surveying the large, detailed replica of a cake.

“What the fuck! There’s- there’s so many blocks! It looks crumblin’ and bitten! What shit! Tubbo! Tubbo the bakery is a giant fucking cake! It looks so realistic! Holy fucking Prime-”

“It smells so good in here, too! Wow! Does this place just sell cake? Is there enough demand, for that?”

“Wh- are those shulker boxes! What! That’s- that’s like, seven shulker boxes! Is that all just for the shit for sale??? What!”

Both of the teens were incomprehensible. Neither Stress, nor Grian, could get a word in.

“Hey! Guys, both of you, it’s alright, yeah? We have plenty of shulkers. Also, Keralis is..Yeah, probably the richest Hermit, so shulkers for his shop isn’t out of the ordinary at all.

All of us have a buncha shulkers. I’ll clear out some of mine, too, for you to have. It’d make setting up a base much easier, I’m sure.”

...Everyone has shulkers. And he’d be willing to let Tommy and Tubbo just..Have some? No way. Tommy gave a look towards Tubbo, and he could tell the other was as perplexed at the notion as he.

“You guys just.. Just have shulkers- I. Yeah. sure. Rooms with diamond armor and fuckin’ elytras lying around..Right.” Tommy took a breath, fist clenched beside him for a moment.

Tubbo, with their hand holding his arm, above his elbow, gave him a reassuring smile before turning generally towards the Hermits direction. “Thank you, like- so much?” They chuckled, sheepishly. “We really don’t need, like, anything like that. We- we should be getting back to our world soon. Hopefully- uh, probably.”

Grian frowned, humming. “Sure, but I think any Hermit that went even twenty-four hours without working on something, would lose their mind. When you go home, you could give them back. Even if you took them home, I promise that it wouldn’t be a big deal.”

The two teens shared a look. The older brit’s word may sound sincere, but they both knew better than to blindly believe someone, other than each other. Tommy shot a glare to the man, eyes narrowed.

“Yeah, whatever you say.” He scoffed. The dirty blond met his stare, unphased. A relaxed, easy smile remained on their face. Tommy didn’t trust it for a second.

Stress had begun opening some of the shulker boxes, exposing the sweets and goods inside to the starved teens. “C’mon, now.  If you two want to work on some of that later, you can do that. But you’re with us, right now, and it’s time to eat. Grab whatever you’d like, Loves.”

The brunette teen gasped, tugging at the blond boy’s arm. “C’mon Tommy, do you smell that! Oh Void, this place must be lovely! Thank you for bringing us, uh, ma’am! ‘N sir!” Tubbo beams, their smile lopsided.

Tommy glanced around, towards the candy-and-sweets themed furniture in the dining area. Right. Sure. I can deal with this, for Tubbo.

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

So there’s going to be a Netflix adaptation of this book series I read in middle school (the School for Good and Evil) and I have to rant about the dumbest thing about that book series.

So it’s about these two girls, S, the stereotypical princess and A, the stereotypical weird goth girl. And there’s a magical school that’s separated into fairytale heroes and villains. S gets put in the evil school and A gets put in the good school. Yadda yadda yadda stuff happens and then A meets a prince (T) whose personality is blonde dude and daddy issues. S likes T but likes the idea of being with him more than actually being with him. Later S gets affected by a “nemesis curse” that is just connecting you with your fairytale rival (hers is A) and it causes her to become so obsessed with A, she starts going insane, her hair starts falling out, she breaks out in hives and starts seeing A in her dreams. Yadda yadda yadda dumb love triangle stuff happens and two books later and you aren’t prepared for this M Night level twist.

A and S meet in this magic cemetery and a vision of the past is shown to them. The reason that S, despite being beautiful and popular , struggles with being in relationships with boys, the reason that A was her true love’s kiss when the curse almost killed her, the reason that A and S are considered to be soulmates bounded by fate, the reason that S was the only person who was nice to A in their village despite the fact that the village deemed A and her mother as witches and they were cast out from society, the reason that seeing A and T together fills S with feelings of betrayal, jealousy and incomprehensible rage is because S and A are sisters 👍 yep sisters. And they had no idea of this. This is explained with convenient magic nonsense.

Also one of the princes is heavily implied to be gay and when the schools split into extremely strict gender roles, he takes a potion to disguise himself as a girl because the boy’s school is aggro and violent as hell. He gets hatecrimed (throat slit) for being “less of a man”. So there’s… that.

Anon, I want you to know that I was so interested in your description of the book in the first paragraph that I went to look it up. The first few covers gave me HUGE lesbian vibes and I was excited to learn that the top common question was if the book was gay... Here's the response

Yea... It's not surprising that they'd take that route of sisterhood. It's so annoying, too, I got excited lmao. Like, I absolutely adore stories where people are on opposite ends of the spectrum (good and evil in this case). I love seeing them fall in love. I'm glad you told me about this bullshit, because I would've totally bought this book only to be severely angry at wasting my money.

Smh, I haven't even read the book and I'm right there with you with the feeling of needing to rant. I'm so sorry you had to experience this shit first hand, anon 😭

[nikethestatue]

Dreamland

Elriel Month- Day21

thank you to @123moiaussi​ for supplying the idea!

This is Fluffy Fluffington Fluff. But basically, it’s how Elain, Nuala and Cerridwen became friends

Dreamland

That’s what Elain called it. Her dreamland. A state of nebulous nothingness, where her head was an animal. A wild animal that could not be controlled. It was a landscape of visions, nonsense, lucidity, periods of terror, and periods of pleasure.

The pleasure came from when she was with the handsome one…what was his name? Azriel.

He was kind to her. Always. And such sadness in his eyes—she thought that they were green? They looked green, a lively forest-green—when he looked at her. Sadness, but not pity, exactly. There was understanding in his eyes, on that beautiful, but utterly cold face—like he knew her inside and out, and understood precisely what was happening to her, even if she didn’t know herself.

Moments with him was when she was the most aware. He was always unbearably gentle, taking her by the hand, like she was a little girl, and leading her out into the garden. Weather permitting, they’d sit together, in companiable silence, never needing to chat or annoy each other with words. He always worked. Truthfully, she thought that he worked much too much, with endless stack of reports that he was reading through, sorting them into different piles, sometimes drinking tea with her, sometimes, sipping on a whiskey. She liked it when he drank whiskey and sometimes, she dreamt that she could lick his lower lip and taste the bitterness on her tongue. When such thoughts crossed her mind, he always raised his eyes to her, a small, handsome smirk on his lips, his face changed somehow, amused.

One time, he was frowning. Something in the report that didn’t sit well with him. She didn’t know why she did it, but she reached out and pressed her thumb between his bunched brows and smoothed it gently, rubbing at it. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it.

“Don’t frown,” she said. “You’ll get wrinkles.”

She made him laugh that time. He never truly laughed, not like that. But it was just the two of them, and he threw his head back and laughed. And maybe, she wanted to kiss his neck.

But he was absent a lot, and she sat by herself, waiting. Waiting for him. For her head to clear. She knew that when he returned, he’d seek her out. Why, she had no idea. Maybe she gave him peace.

He couldn’t possibly be interested in sitting with her, in silence. He was probably bored to death, shuffling through his papers. But…If he’d only known what it meant to her. That one person, one man—male—didn’t treat her like she was insane. Her sister thought that she might be. That read-headed male, who was her ‘mate’—whatever that meant—he thought that she was mad as well. The High Lord looked at her with some sadness, incomprehension. He also didn’t know. Even the tiny angry angel among them, she wasn’t sure either. Though her quick silver eyes were knowing, like she saw her the same way as Azriel.

When Azriel was with her, she left the dreamland.

He’d find her, and take her by the hand, and sometimes, when no one was watching, he’d thread his fingers with hers. His hand was massive, horribly scarred, and unfailingly gentle. She had thoughts about that hand as well, but she kept them to herself. She was engaged after all, and such thoughts were improper. But she couldn’t help herself. Those hands were magic.

They’d find a quiet corner in the townhouse and sit together, and it was a good day in Elain’s life. But then, he’d be gone again, and she’d return to the mental whirlpool of confusion and pain, until the next time. Until Azriel returned and took her hand in his.

It started with a cardamom bun.

Sometimes, Azriel and she ate together. Not meals. Snacks. He always worried that she was too thin, and she heard whispers among the others how they were concerned about her not eating. Azriel, true to form, never said anything to her, but when they drank their tea, he sometimes attempted to sneak something to her—a dainty finger sandwich, a scone, a pastry. Up until today, he was unsuccessful. She always smiled softly at him, but did not eat.

It was early, but Elain was awake.

Her head felt clear today, unusually so. She came downstairs and saw the shadowy twins working at the counter, preparing breakfast. She said ‘good morning’, and then, she felt him behind her. He didn’t touch, or say anything, and his steps were feathers-soft, but she knew. She always sensed him around her. Maybe it was his scent.

Today, he rested his hand on the small of her back, for the first time. It just rested there, touching lightly. She did not look at him, but stepped into the touch. ‘Good morning,’ he greeted all of them. He was always polite, and the twins liked him—Elain could see it—more than others. There was a special kind of relationship that he had with them, but Elain was too confused to discern the nature of it. He gently nudged her forward, towards the table and pulled the chair for her, before sitting himself across from her. Wordlessly, he extended his hand and she lay her palm across it, giving him a glance over. “You look beautiful today, Elain,” he said simply, as if they were discussing the weather.

Nuala set coffee and tea service on the table and then a basket of pastries, quiche, and smoked meats. Azriel poured Elain her tea, and then…she reached out and set a sweet bun on his plate. “Thank you,” he said a little stiffly. She wondered if she broke some protocol, some unspoken rule. “You don’t want it?” she asked awkwardly.

It was as if some strange internal battle was taking place, his eyes stormy, even if his expression remained stoic and unreadable as always. The twins looked at the two of them with the same unreadable, placid expression. He chewed his lip for a moment and then said, “Thank you. Of course I want it. But will you do me a favour?”

Elain nodded. She wanted to do him a favour. Anything he asked her, really. She’d do anything for him. As long as he held her hand like this.

“Will you eat for me?”

When she did not answer, he tried again, “It would please me very much if you ate with me. I don’t like eating alone.”

A pretty, sweet lie. Elain saw right through it. But she wanted to please him, and she was…hungry. Maybe for the first time in months, she was feeling a pang in her stomach, a clench of hunger. “Alright,” she agreed. He smiled that luminous rare smile of his and then placed a cardamom bun on her plate.

Elain sipped her tea and then bit into the bun, and it was a revelation. Suddenly, a new world opened up to her. The bun was pillowy and buttery, subtly scented with cardamom and lemon and as she chewed it, her head began to settle, and her taste buds awoke. She’d never tasted anything like this before—sweet and savoury, comforting and homey.

She didn’t know what ‘homey’ even meant anymore. Was it Greyson? It didn’t feel like Greyson. The bun didn’t feel like her old life, like the human lands. The townhouse? Velaris? Probably not either.

She raised her eyes and met a pair of forest-green ones. They watched her. They always watched her. Maybe this was home? Her new home, a dreamland inside those eyes.

“I’d like to bake,” she decided resolutely, surprising even herself.

Azriel looked at her and nodded, calm as always, like he was expecting this declaration from her, and then a quick glance at the twins. Perhaps an order? A command?

“We’d love to bake with you, Elain,” said Nuala at once, nodding as well.

“Bread, if possible?” requested Elain. The twins nodded in unison. “I’d like to learn to bake like you two,” she proposed. “And pasties. I have some recipes I can share, if you’d like.”

“Absolutely,” said Nuala.

“I make blackberry tarts,” Elain finished her cardamom bun, and then, found another one on her plate. Azriel was silent, allowing the females to talk baking. “They are quite good. It was my nanny’s recipe.”

“Blackberry tarts are Azriel’s favourite,” piped in Cerridwen, as she arrived at the table and handed Elain a folded piece of cloth.

She was rewarded for her unexpected honesty by a sharp look from Azriel, but she only shrugged and went back to the stove, to stir the porridge.

“Are they?” Elain looked at him shyly.

A small smile from him and he opened his palms to her, “They are,” he confirmed.

“Then I shall make you some,” she decided and unfolded Cerridwen’s gift. It was an apron.

Resolutely, she stood up, stuffing the rest of her bun in her mouth. “Then let’s make some bread,” she decided and tied the apron around her waist.

“You, madam, look like you are a beast with sugar and yeast,” chuckled Azriel, and the twins laughed as well.

Elain looked at the three of them—her friends. Her new friends. The four of them were friends.

Only later did she notice that Azriel did not eat the pastry that she had offered him and placed on his plate. She did not know why. But she vowed to make him something that he would eat, and enjoy.

So she stepped out of the dreamworld, never to return, and went to her new home, which smelled like fresh bread, tasted like blackberry tarts and looked like forest-green eyes.

[catholic-character-tournament]

Round 2 - Side A

Propaganda below ⬇️

Sister Michael

She drives a DeLorean. She does judo on Fridays. She likes a good statue and despises the French. Her full nun name is Sister George Michael, after the guy from Wham!. She is the fiercest nun you’ll ever come across and, if you’re attending Lady Immaculate College, she’s the woman in charge. So whatever you do, if you’re feeling anxious or worried or just need a chat: don’t come crying to her.

joined the nunnery for the free accommodation?

she does love a good statue it has to be said

She is the headmistress of a catholic school <3

Galahad

OKAY SO . “Galahad (played by Jonny d'Ville): a travelling preacher/religious zealot who is told to sit in the Siege Seat by Merlin, and discovers the fact that Fort Galfridian is falling into the star Avalon. He sparks the quest for the GRAIL, and willingly goes to his death to overcome its final defences.” DUDE SAT IN THE CHAIR THAT IS KNOWN FOR KILLING PEOPLE BECAUSE HIS CRUSH [MERLIN] [AKA HANGED MAN] [AKA DRUMBOT BRIAN] TOLD HIM TO . SORRY I THINK THATS REALLY FUNNY. he found out the whole shitshow of a spacestation he lived on was gonna fall into the sun and he went around yelling about it incomprehensibly and got fucking gunned down trying to get the GRAIL and just kept going through the gunfire because of how Religious [tm] he was . he died . in once and future king it just “galahad’s blind faith” . also hellfire goes really hard . he is the definition of going insane with the knowledge of the universe . also jonny dville played him thats bonus points

There was a prophet. The prophet gave three separate people three separate instructions. 1. Stop being racist 2. Love your son 3. Sit in the Chair That Makes People Insane Galahad received number three. He was the only one who followed the instructions. He sat in the Chair That Makes People Insane, saw the sun for the first time, and immediately starts preaching about how everyone will burn in hellfire

i dont know anything about this guy i just wanna help make Kai happy please dont like not count my submission just because i dont know anythinf except for the Kills You Chair im trying my best im sorry 😭

his themesong is called hellfire and it slaps btw go listen to it. anyways he is my blorbo blingus he is Deeply unwell i could fix him but also whatever is wrong with him is incredibly fascinating to watch. a robot dude who’s been hanging from the gallows since forever told him ‘hey go sit in the Chair That Kills People Who Sit In It’ and he was like 'I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS MOMENT MY ENTIRE LIFE’. the getting-his-brain-fried thing definitely made him worse but he was also clearly kind of fucked up before that. his death is probably one of my favorite scenes in any mechs album. maybe just straight up my favorite. ahem. SAY WHAT YOU WILL ABOUT FAITH, BUT IT CAN HAVE POWERFUL EFFECTS ON THOSE THAT HAVE IT. IT CAN KEEP YOU FROM FALTERING AS THE BULLETS START TO SLAM INTO YOU. IT CAN KEEP YOU WALKING AS YOU LEGS ARE SHOT TO BLOODY STUMPS. IT CAN KEEP YOU LAUGHING AS YOUR LUNGS ARE FILLED WITH SHRAPNEL AND LEAD. IT CAN KEEP YOU SMILING AS HALF YOUR FACE IS BLOWN AWAY. IT CAN KEEP A MAN LIKE GALAHAD STANDING TALL UNTIL THE GUNS. CLICKED. DRY. anyways go listen to high noon over camelot <3

my friends my people my… flock I HAVE HAD A VISION!! A VAST FIERY ORB FLOATIN IN AN ENDLESS VOID!! and there so small so feagile US!!! BUT FALLIN FALLIN FALLIN INTO THE FLAMES!!! your soul is connected to the world youre in youre draggin it down with the weight of your sin surrounded by temptation and y'just give in we’re fallin into the flames OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HEEEEELLLLLLFIIIRE YOUR BROW BECOMES SLICK AS YOU PERSPIRE YOU THINK YOURE THIRSTY NOW WAIT TIL IT GETS DRIER AND YA FEEL THE HEAT OF THE FLAMES OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE YOUR SICK AND SINFUL LIES WILL BUILD A FUNERAL PYRE YOUR PERVERSION SCARS THE STATION SON ITS GONAN FRY HER AND WE ALLLLLL FALL INTO THE FLAMES… oh i have SEEN DAMNATION MY BROTHERS!! ive FELT its searing heat within my VERY BONES !!!!!!! but there is a way me be saved… “OH TELL US FATHER GALAHAD, TELL US” I HEAR YOU CRY “IS IT PIETY IS IT PURITY IS IT VIRTUE?” NO!!! ONLY WAY TO SAVE US NOW IS THE HOLY GRAIL ITSELF… HAHAHAHAHHAAAA…. WELL THAT ORB OF DAMNATION MAKES THE SUN SEEM PALE YOURE QUITE CORRECT TO QUIVER YOU ARE RIGHT TO QUAIL THE ONLY WAY TO SAVE US IS TO FIND THAT GRAIL OR WE ALL FALL INTO THE FLAMES OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE YOUR SKIN STARTS TO SIZZLE AS YOU EXPIRE YOU CLAIM TO BE VIRTUOUS BUT YOURE A LIAR !!!!! AND YOU FEEL THE HEAT OF THE FLAMES … i said HEEEELLLLFIIIIRE HEEEEEEEELLLLFIRE HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLLLFIIIIIREEE HEEEEEEELLLLLLFIIIIIIRE OF THAT FIRE THAT FIRE THAT HELLFIRE AT THE HEART OF THAT INFERNO THAT WILL NEVER TIRE IVE SEE THE END IS NIGH AND DAMNATIONS NIGHER OH WE ALL FALL INTO THE FLAMES

Ok i know this is kind of a shot in the dark because hes so obscure but i need to speak my truth. Hes so insane. The narrator calls him a “holy roller.” He has a vision which is meant to tell him that the place they live is LITERALLY going to get burnt to a crisp because its slowly falling into the sun. But hes like Oh my god i just had a vision of hell i need to save everyone from eternal damnation. And he happily gets killed and turned into a pile of slop because he believes its what he was “chosen to do” he quite literally dies for his religion. Hes also quite funny. I like him. Thank you

[minxystories]

Wolf

@panyum @grievouslyxorvia

The crunching of snow could be heard through the woods. Every tree and every branch was an abyssal black, having nearly no features beside their crooked silhouette. With the clear snow as a backdrop to the forest, it felt like someone drew a bunch of lines with ink on a white sheet of paper. The only spot of color in the environment was a young woman. Amelie’s hands were cover by her grey baggy jacket and in her arms she held the white moth. To this day, she didn’t knew why this moth was always around in her visions. She didn’t even have a name for her. Was the moth even a female one? Non of that mattered now. She softly pressed the moth against her body, hoping that they can warm each other in this cold place. Small clouds escape her mouth as a shiver ran up her spine. A growl echoed behind her and she could recognize it everywhere.

Quickly, the brunette turned around and took a few steps back.

Pink eyes stared back at her.

If it weren’t for them, she could have hardly seen the creature. It’s fur was a black as the trees and the rows of teeth had the same white as the snow below her feet. The creature could hardly be called a wolf, but Amelie knew exactly that it was one. Despite how starved it looked, the wolf was clearly over two meters tall and trying to fight against it would be pointless.

Despite this, a chuckle escaped the woman’s throat. A seemingly insane spark twinkled in her eyes and she pulled the moth closer to herself.

“Of course this is all your doing. Who else could it be? EMMA sleeps and you are the only one who could torment both of us like this.”

The wolf growled at her and took a step forward. Amelie took one backwards.

“Growling at me won’t get us anywhere. I know you can speak. But even if, I won’t listen. I won’t let her take control again and ravage every chance of survival for humanity.”

He stopped growling and narrowed his pink eyes at her. Wolf opened his jaw and a deep voice rang through the forest.

“NO MATTER WHAT YOU TRY, YOU CAN’T AVOID THE INEVITABLE.”

A short, pressed laugh came from the young woman.

“As if I don’t know that, of course I can’t! But I sure can delay it, no matter what kind of weird visions you give me. I will finish this mission and when I’m done, I can finally rest and we all three will never see the light of day again. Neither you, me nor EMMA. The world won’t remember us and we’ll disappear into the abyss of nothingness. I-”

The moth looked confused at the two, seeing them interact in this familiar and hateful way. When the woman stopped her rant, the moth looked up at her and saw her staring right back. The world around them changed and they were sitting in Chaldea again. Just like before, they were sitting in the cafeteria, but the Fairy King was nowhere to be found. Neither of them moved, neither of them made a noise. A hand was placed on Amelie’s shoulder and a someone softly shook her. An incomprehensible mess of letters left her mouth as she turned and faced the grand duchess.

“Are you okay, Master?”

At first Amelie was confused as to why Anastasia was asking, but then she remembered that the two of them had plans to watch one of the movies they stole from the archives.

“Oh, yeah. I’m fine. You can already go to my room, I’ll follow in a second.”

Both knew it was a big lie, the woman wasn’t okay at all. But the caster didn’t push the matter and disappeared through the doors of the hall. Amelie looked after her for a second, before her gaze went back to the moth on her lap. Her eyes already told the fluffy insect what she wanted to ask, but Amelie opened her mouth anyways.

“You saw it too, didn’t you?”

The white moth just stared back at her.

[hercleverboy]

miss you, love you

spencer reid x reader 

summary ↠ spencer never came home from the case.

category ↠ angst

warnings/includes ↠ major character death, depression, funerals.

word count ↠ 2.7k

“My heartbreak is grief that comes in waves, gruelling, stealing appetite and sleep alike.” — Angela Abraham

Ring

Ring

Ring

“Hi, you’ve reached Dr. Spencer Reid. I can’t come to the phone right now, so leave me a message and I’ll get back to you.”

Y/N stared down at her phone in her hands. She listened as the dial tone rang out, before ending the call and dialling again.

“Hi, you’ve reached Dr. Spencer Reid-“

She wondered if she was insane, dialling same number over and over just so she could hear his voice again.

It had been 3 days since Spencer had left for the case. It was a more local one, so he wasn’t going to be thousands of miles away this time. That didn’t lessen the worry that consumed her whenever he left the house. She knew how dangerous his job could be, and while she knew he could handle himself, and that the team would protect him with their lives, she couldn’t help but worry. Spencer knew she worried, but he was always quick to reassure her that he would always come back to her. Before, he’d admit, he could be reckless in the field at times. However, that was before he met her, before he fell in love with her, before she became his wife on a warm evening last July. He used to come home from rough cases to a cold and empty apartment, left to tend to his cuts and scratches alone with his thoughts. But now, he had someone waiting for him to come home. He had a family, someone who depended on him, who needed him.

So he made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t be so reckless, that he would always come home to her.

When he’d left for the case a few days ago, for what would be the last time, she made sure to say goodbye the same way she always did. (Though now she found herself wishing she’d said more.)

“Thank you for making breakfast baby, but I gotta go!” Spencer had exclaimed, rushing to throw his satchel over his shoulder and grab his coat. He shoved the last bite of his blueberry pancake in his mouth before moving to kiss Y/N’s cheek, then scrambling to the door.

“Spence!” She called after him, making her way to the front door, where Spencer had stuck his head back inside the door to see why she’d called him. “You forgot something.”

He gave her a confused look, patting down his pockets to check he had everything. “Did I? I’ve got my phone, my car keys-“

Y/N cut him off by pressing her lips to his, and Spencer melted into it, figuring that the telling off he’d get from Hotch for being late was worth it to spend a few more minutes with her.

“I love you. Be safe.” She whispered against his lips and he smiled, pecking her on the lips again quickly.

“I promise, Mrs Reid. I love you too.”

And then he was gone.

That was the last time she would see her husband alive.

She remembered the day vividly. The day she’d always dreaded would come.

It was JJ who had called her at 2AM, sobbing down the line.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m-“

“JJ? What’s wrong? Oh god, is it Spence? Is he okay?”

JJ had just cried harder at the question, begging her to come to the hospital. Y/N didn’t take the time to question her, instead pulling on her shoes and grabbing her car keys. She drove quickly to the hospital, tears clouding her vision. When she got to the hospital, she asked the receptionist for Spencer Reid, and she’d told her he was on the second floor. She’d taken the stairs, far too anxious to stand in the elevator. When she rounded the corner she was met with her husbands team, standing in front of the room she assumed was his.

Hotch noticed her first. “Y/N-“

“Where is he?” She asked, the tears slipping from her eyes.

“Y/N please, just let me explain-“

“I said where is he, Aaron? Where’s my husband?”

“Y/N-“

“I swear to god if you don’t tell me what’s going on-“ Her voice caught in her throat as she finally glanced over into the room that the team stood in front of, almost as though they were shielding her from what was inside. On the bed lied a body, covered by a white sheet. A still, unmoving body.

“Y/N-“

“I need to see him.” She murmured. JJ came toward her, placing her hand on Y/N’s arm.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N-“

“I said I need to see him.” She spat coldly, harshly shrugging JJ’s hand away.

Hotch led Y/N into the room and JJ followed, closing the door behind them. It was Hotch who gently pulled back the white sheet to reveal Y/N’s greatest fear.

Spencer.

Y/N didn’t recognise that the heartbroken scream that filled the room was coming from her lips until Hotch’s arms wrapped around her, to stop her from falling to the floor as her knees buckled beneath her. She sank to the ground in Hotch’s grasp as the sobs ripped from her throat. The pain was unimaginable. It felt as though someone had ripped her heart from her chest. Like it had been torn from her and crushed in front of her eyes.

She couldn’t b r e a t h e.

She whimpered out incomprehensible words as she wept. “Please. Please, no. Not him. He promised. He promised me.”

JJ had to clasp a hand over her mouth to stop herself from sobbing aloud as she watched the heartbreaking scene before her. She remembered how she felt when she thought Will had died in the bank, how she wondered how she would live without him, how she would ever breathe again without the love of her life by her side. She couldn’t begin to comprehend the pain Y/N felt.

Hotch attempted to soothe the wailing girl in his arms, but it did nothing. He recalled how he felt when Haley died, and his heart ached at the thought of Y/N suffering the same unbearable hurt that he did. Whilst he was heartbroken at the death of the BAU’s youngest member, he was easily the most emotionally well-put together at the moment. Garcia, Morgan and JJ were absolutely inconsolable. Emily sat in the waiting room chair in a state of shock as silent tears trembled down her cheeks. Rossi sat next to her, his head in his hands as he cried.

Y/N trembled in Hotch’s arms, her entire frame shaking as she wept. Hotch’s eyes met JJ’s, and he signalled for JJ to pull the sheet back over Spencer, so she didn’t have to look anymore.

As if that mattered.

As if the image wasn’t already burned into her brain.

Eventually Hotch pulled Y/N up to stand, still holding her close to him as she relied on him to stop them from both collapsing to the ground again.

“I’m gonna get Derek to take you home, okay Y/N?” He whispered, attempting not to alarm her. She still panicked, shaking her head profusely as she whimpered.

“No, no. Aaron I can’t leave him here. He’s all alone, please.” She begged, but she ultimately knew Hotch was right.

She allowed herself to be taken to Derek’s car. He took her back to the house (Y/N could hardly call it a home anymore), and parked up outside it.

Y/N made no move to get out of the car. Derek turned to her, the woman his best friend loved. Derek wouldn’t tell Y/N this, but in his last moments Spencer had made him promise that he would take care of her If something happened to him. And Derek would keep that promise if it was the last thing he did.

“Y/N we have to go inside.” He tried gently, and watched as the tears still fell from her red eyes.

“How did It happen?” Her voice was cold and numb.

“I’m not going to tell you that-“

“Derek please. I need to know.” She choked out, her eyes meeting his.

“He jumped in front of a bullet to save the life of a little girl.”

It only made Y/N sob harder. Her husband had died giving his life for a young girl. She didn’t know how that made her feel.

Derek got out of the car, coming over and opening the door for Y/N. She nodded to him gratefully as he helped her out of the car, her shaky hands grabbing onto him to give her something to hold onto. “Will you stay for a little while? I can’t be alone, not here.” She cried, and he nodded, holding back a cry of his own.

“Of course I will.”

The house felt cold and empty. Spencer and Y/N had purchased the home shortly after getting married, with promises of raising their family here. As they came in through the front door, Y/N stared at the battered pair of Spencer’s converse that were lying by the door.

He’d never wear them again.

As she looked around the rooms that she once found so much comfort in, but now felt so suffocated, she noticed how his things were everywhere. His books scattered around the living room, his suits still hung in the wardrobe, his toothbrush sat by the sink.

He was still everywhere she looked.

Derek had stayed for a few hours, trying to get Y/N to eat and sleep before he left. As soon as the door had closed behind him, Y/N sunk to her knees, collapsing in on herself. She’d never felt a pain so intense, so all-consuming. Her chest burned and she begged and she prayed for it all to be a sick, twisted nightmare. That she’d wake up in bed, in Spencer’s arms like she was supposed to be, and he’d soothe her with his calming voice, his large hand gently rubbing her back.

“It was just a nightmare baby. You’re okay, I’m here. Nothing will ever hurt you as long as I’m here.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, pinched herself a hundred times because she just couldn’t accept that any of this could be real, that she would have to face the world without him by her side.

She realised then that she didn’t know how to live in a world where Spencer Reid doesn’t exist.

The team called, but she never picked up.

“Hi there, sweet girl, it’s Penelope. I just wanted to check in. I stopped by your house again, and I noticed you haven’t taken in any of my baskets. It’s okay, I left you another one today. You like cashews, right?”

“Hey, it’s Derek. Please just send me a text letting me know you’re still there. Cause you know I’ll break down that door if I have to.”

“Y/N, it’s JJ. I just wanted to remind you that the funerals on Monday. We really hope you’ll come, but we understand if you can’t. I’m always here if you need to talk.”

Y/N just listened as the the dial tone rang out after JJ’s voicemail. She was sat up against the wall of the living room, her knees to her chest as she stared at the phone that sat on the floor before her. She hadn’t showered in weeks, and she hadn’t eaten in god knows how long. None of that stuff seemed important to her, really. She noted how JJ had reminded her that Spencer’s funeral was on Monday. At first she didn’t want to go. She wasn’t sure she could handle it. All these people who were probably going to be there, talking about how they missed him, as If they’d cared about him while he was here. Though she knew she owed it to her husband. She had to be strong enough to go. So, she pulled herself up and forced herself to shower for the first time in a long while.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat on the shower floor, her tears mixing with the water that fell on her face.

She dried herself off and dressed herself for bed, knowing she had to try and get some sleep before Monday. When she opened up the wardrobe in search of her pyjamas, her eyes lingered on his clothes that were nearly hung and stacked on his side of the wardrobe. Her lip quivered. Up until then, she hadn’t dared to touch any of his things. The half drunk coffee was in his favourite mug was still sat on his bedside table. She knew it would start to smell soon but she couldn’t bring herself to move it. His shoes that laid scattered in their hallway from where he’d thrown them off one night were still in the same place he’d left them. She brought her hand out to gently touch the fabric of one of his hoodies. She tenderly took the fabric from the hanger, bringing it up to her nose as she inhaled deeply.

She let out a cry.

It still smelled like him.

She pulled the hoodie over her head, watching as it fell to her knees. He always was so much taller than her.

She curled up in bed that night, the scent of him calming her, lulling her to sleep.

It was the best sleep she’d gotten in weeks.

When Monday inevitably came, Y/N had called JJ to ask for a lift to the cemetery. JJ sounded surprised but glad at Y/N’s request.

As they watched her husband be lowered into the ground, Y/N couldn’t stop the tears that fell from her eyes. JJ held her hand tightly throughout it, comforting her as she cried. Y/N couldn’t say it then but she was so thankful for the teams support. If it weren’t for them, she’d be doing this alone and that would be even more unbearable.

Y/N had agreed to say some words at the funeral, despite Derek reassuring her that it was okay if she didn’t want to, she insisted.

Taking a deep breath, she started.

“My husband was many things. He was stubborn, at times. A bit of a know it all, which I loved about him.” She gave a teary chuckle, and the team gave one too, as they fondly remembered their friend. “But he was also kind, and loving. He was the best husband I could’ve asked for, and it was a privilege to love him, and to have his love in return. Spencer Reid was easily the best thing that ever happened to me, and I will honour him for the rest of my life.” She turned to face the newly placed headstone.

‘             Spencer Reid

Beloved Friend, son and Husband.’

That night, she sat up against the wall in their living room again, wrapped in Spencer’s jumper. She pressed the familiar number on her phone again, finding comfort in the sound of his voice.

“Hi, you’ve reached Dr. Spencer Reid. I can’t come to the phone right now, so leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

Beep.

“Hey, Spence. I don’t know if you know, if you’re somehow watching me from up there but, I call this number a lot. I just want to hear your voice, sometimes. Even if it’s just your stupid voicemail.” She chuckled quietly. “I don’t actually have anything else to say. But I’m going to stop calling this number. It’s not good for me, to keep clinging onto you like this. So this will be the last time I call you. I can let you go now.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’ll always love you, Spencer Reid. I promise.” She grabbed at the chain that hung from her neck, which now had his wedding ring dangling from it. “You’re the love of my life. And what an extraordinary life it was.” She smiled. “Maybe in another life, we get to be one another’s forever. But not in this one, it would seem.”

She knew she had to stop calling the number. It was damaging her, clinging onto his voice. She knew that if she wanted to be able to let him go, she had to start there.

“Okay. I’m gonna go now. miss you, love you.”

She ended the call, staring down at the phone, as the numbness she’d grown accustom to filled her.

She tried to convince herself she didn’t need to call again. She didn’t need to hear is voice again. Maybe things would be different, now she’d laid him to rest. Maybe now they’d both finally know peace.

Beep.

“Hi, this is Dr. Spencer Reid-“

But then again, when had the universe ever been so kind?

[loominggaia]

Does Gaia have any cosmic horror or lovecraftian elements? Is their great incomprehensible horrors hanging around outside reality? Forbidden knowledge that drives people mad upon its discovery? Or eldritch abominations just hidden out of sight? Or anything along those lines?

I would say the incident with Curiosity is the most disturbing one, personally. She peered too deeply into the future with her third eye and ended up seeing the death of not only her universe, but OUR universe as well. She realized she was just a character in a book, and her universe existed within the mind of a person in an even larger universe, and she saw the end of it all. The vision drove her completely insane and almost killed her.

The celestial realms and the celestials themselves are pretty horrifying, considering how powerful they are and yet how little is known about them. Literally no one knows where they came from or even what kind of life forms they are. They seem to defy all logic.

The concept of eternal life is another disturbing one. The divine of tears, Morganya, makes a good point in the story "Divine Executioner":

Of all the reactions to have, the woman let out a slow, languid laugh. She spread her arms and said, “Oh, if only you could kill me! But the Spirit of Gaia has cursed me to forever live this horrid existence. I die, and I die, and I die, but She always brings me back to this realm just to watch me suffer. Our maker is a cruel, unforgiving creature.”

Isaac asked his question cautiously, “Wait. You’re really a divine?”

“Unfortunately,” she said. She pointed a finger at him, speaking through her teeth, “You don’t even know how lucky you are. You’ve been blessed with death! Oh, death! Sweet death! One way or another, you will escape this realm while I remain trapped forever! Divinity is a curse, I tell you!” [...] The divine replied calmly, “Everyone dies eventually. Everyone escapes their suffering, everyone’s story gets a happy ending���all except for mine! Death is inevitable for you, and so is pain. There will come a day when you will suffer too, and then you will understand as you beg for death to set you free. I am no enemy, boy…”

She extended a pale hand towards Isaac. “…I am the best friend you’ll ever have. I won’t allow you to suffer the burden of life. Take my hand and I will show you the truth. I will set you free.”

Disgrace's cursed mask is another one. No one knows where it came from, what exactly it is, or the full extent of its power. It seems to grant whoever wears it eternal life and god-like powers, but also compels them to create misery everywhere they go. They lose control of their body, yet they're still aware of what they're doing (Disgrace is sometimes witnessed trying to pull off the mask, which is evidence that he knows it's harming him but can't get it off. That's extremely disturbing in itself.)

That's all I can think of at the moment!

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Questions/Comments?

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