#Victorian AU head canon

[bestdamnshot]

Having the Dorian plot, makes me think Seb would have silly moments like this with his son in private sometimes. You know he hates the attention outside

@artsymoriarty

[serendipnpipity]

Paper Faces on Parade (1/?)

Extra sketches & story details under the cut!

I don't know what came over me, but it is now 12:30am on June 1st and I've accidentally started a webcomic phanfic. "Love Story" popped into my head earlier today, and then that turned into "But Daddy I Love Him", and then that turned into the idea for a little story!

The general gist goes as follows:

High society, Victorian-era-ish AU. I don't know time periods well, but that's the vibe.

18-year-old Dan secretly attends a masquerade party, careful to keep his identity completely anonymous until... he meets Phil.

The two hit it off, and when Phil drags him out to the secluded gardens further into the night, they end up revealing their identities to each other.

But Dan slips away Cinderella-style by the end of the night, scared of harboring an attachment like this. (Is it period-typical homophobia? Is it commitment issues? Is it Romeo-and-Juliet-style family feuding because that's my actual source material inspiration? Who knows, cuz I don't.)

Unfortunately for Dan, however, they meet again soon after at another social function. Phil approaches Dan, only for Dan to push him away at first, scared of the reactions if anyone finds out.

They still circle each other throughout the night, though, and to be honest, it's quite ridiculous how many times two people can bump into each other at a sweets table without truly, directly talking.

I'm still figuring it out after that, honestly, hence the question mark...

But I do have some fluffly extra scenes! Dunno if they'll be *canon* eventually, but they're fun nonetheless...

@phanniemasquerade

**I PHORGOT TO ADD THE FREAKING LINKS**

Ser's Oufits (bedsheets, phouseplant)

danisnotonfire & red-hot-phil

Phire & Ice Outfits

Paper Faces on Parade (Chapter 1)

[alice-after-dark]

Deer Wife AU - Rosie

Inspired by @hiemaldesirae's deer sinner Vox designs (1 | 2 | 3 | 4) and his Attic-Wife Vox AU

Vox meets Rosie!

TW for cannibalism, agoraphobia, mild reference to eating disorders, and other canon-typical triggers.

Vox has changed three times already. His heart is racing. One of Alastor's friends is coming over and he has to look perfect. The Radio Demon had called her his closest friend and Vox needs to make a good impression on her and here he is not 20 minutes until her arrival and he hasn't even decided what to wear yet! Vox wails and slumps down onto his bed amongst the heap of clothes.

"You seem distressed, darling. Is everything alright?"

The blue deer bolts upright, blushing. He's only in his robe at the moment and hurriedly makes sure it's properly closed. "I...yes, everything is...fine...er...it will be. I just need to find something to wear. I want to look nice for your friend."

Alastor's smile is gentle. "My dear, there's no need to fuss. You'll look lovely in whatever you choose." He steps closer to the bed, peering over the clothing scattered there. After a moment, he selects a pale blue dress from the pile. "How about this one? The color always looks so pretty against your skin."

Vox's blush deepens. "O-okay."

Alastor hands him the dress and kisses his forehead. "I'll leave you to it then. Don't take too long, darling. She will be arriving soon."

Vox dresses quickly after that and heads downstairs after a final turn in the mirror. Alastor is right, of course, this does look good on him. He's paired it with white kitten heels. They look better with the pale dress than black heels. He pops his head into the kitchen where Alastor is busy finishing dinner. His shadow is setting the table.

"Is there anything I can help with?" Vox asks, watching the shadow curiously. It seems to have a mind of its own at times, but also obeys Alastor's commands. Sometimes he hears Alastor talking to it (though he can't understand what the shadow is saying).

A shadow appears in the frosted glass of the front door and Vox goes still. There's a knock.

Alastor turns, meeting his eyes. "Do you think you can get the door?"

Vox's heart leaps into his throat. Opening the door. It'll be the closest he's been to being outside since he came to live with Alastor. But it's not because he's leaving, he reminds himself. He's letting Alastor's friend in. He's not going to be exposed for long. He just need to let their guest in. He bites his lip and nods.

"Um...yeah. Yeah, I'll get it."

His hand trembles when it grips the knob and he twists, opening it slowly.

The woman standing at the door is tall, most definitely taller than Alastor, and dressed in fine Victorian clothing. Her short white hair is neatly combed and she grants him a wide sharp grin when he meets her void-like eyes.

"Hello, sweetie! You must be Vox! It's so good to finally put a face to the name! Alastor talks about you so often!"

Vox only half hears her. His eyes are fixated on the streets behind her, the Sinners walking by. There are so many. The streets feel endless. They're looking at him. They're all looking at him. They're going to hurt him. He isn't safe. The world is twisting and warping and he can't breathe-

A cool hand touches his where he has the doorknob in a death grip. His eyes dart up and he is stunned to see Alastor's shadow floating next to him. The woman at the door takes Vox's other hand and smiles gently.

"Oh, sweetheart. Let's get you back inside, alright?" The woman slips into the house with an unnatural grace, her hand still holding Vox's as she guides the door shut and the shadow carefully eases his hand from the doorknob. "There we go. Safe and sound."

Vox can't bring himself to speak, throat tight and heart pounding, as she leads him into the living room and sets him on the couch. He feels humiliated. He didn't even actually leave the house! He wants to hide back in his room.

Alastor is there in seconds.

"What happened?"

The blue deer feels his flush of embarrassment worsen and wrings the skirt of his dress in his hands, wrinkling it. Alastor's shadow hovers around him. The woman places a hand on his shoulder.

"Just a little spooked, that's all."

"I'm sorry," Vox whispers.

"And what would you be apologizing for?" Alastor asks. "You did as I asked of you. I see no reason for you to apologize."

"Exactly!" their guest chirps, clapping her hands. The shadow nods in agreement. "Now why don't we have some proper introductions, hm?"

"Of course, my dear." Alastor comes around the side of the couch and offers Vox his hand, pulling him to his feet and facing the pale woman. "Rosie, this is Vox. Vox, this is Rosie, my dear friend and the Overlord of Cannibal Town."

Rosie curtsies and Vox hurriedly does the same, mind racing. Overlord Rosie! This was the woman Alastor told him to find if he was ever in trouble. She beams at him.

"Oh Alastor! He's absolutely precious! You poor thing! I heard you were having a rough time of it when Alastor snatched you up. Don't worry, you're safe with him."

"Vox is more capable of taking care of himself than he thinks," Alastor chimes in. His hand still holds Vox's and Vox's heart beats hard in his chest under the touch and praise.

"So I hear." Rosie nods. "Alastor says you're pretty handy with an ax."

The talk is light and continues on for a few more minutes before Alastor insists they adjorn to the dinner table. Alastor's shadow serves them each a plate and Vox recognizes the meat as Sinner almost immediately. Alastor has been introducing more and more Sinner flesh into Vox's diet, especially now that Vox is beginning to eat his meals in full without prompting, but this is by far the most he's ever fed him at once. He can feel both Alastor and Rosie watching him as he takes a bite. Rosie releases a delighted squeal and tucks into her own meal, praising Alastor's cooking skills. Alastor looks pleased and Vox feels his chest flutter.

Rosie hugs him tightly before she goes, promising to visit again soon. She whispers something to Alastor then disappears into the night.

It's the most social interaction Vox has had in quite some time and he doesn't resist when Alastor takes him back upstairs and puts him to bed with a soft kiss. He's alseep almost instantly.

[ohtobemare]

Cradlerobbing, Norman Nordstrom x fem!OC | Part 1

a Don't Breathe au short fic arc.

summary: She bought the house to the left. Expecting a quiet neighborhood, not the man next door. But Norman has quite a way of showing up when you least expect it. As a matter of fact, so does fate.

warnings: canon divergence, pregnancy, age gap, romance, surrogate to lovers, violence probably.

pairings: Norman Nordstrom, "The Blind Man" x fem!OC

“Well, looks to me like she’s pretty shot to shit, missy honey. Lookin’ at a total replacement, I think.” 

A total tear down. Frickin’ fantastic. “Oh, no no—you can't be serious! Really? Are you sure there’s nothing you can—” 

“—nope, not a thing. Shame, really.” 

A flick of a business card between arthritic, knobby fingers and the stranger named Val managed the thinnest, most disingenuous smile a man of his age could probably muster. Dentures, maybe as ancient as the threadbare flannel jacketing his waifish frame, shifted ever so slightly as his tongue clicked off the back molars. Mentioning something about the “office gal Donna”, he all but shook his head as curling fingers scratched through left-behind-from-what-was-probably-last-week’s shave. 

He all but assaulted her with the business card. Thrusting it into her hands, Millie McAffery could’ve sworn his skeleton cracked in two as he moved to retrieve his worn, strictly-80s briefcase from the floor. Welded in place, her feet cool from the half-stained walnut floor, her eyes trailed him as the man named Val exited the way he came–the kitchen’s dutch back door. Attempting to whistle, of all things. 

Mille bristled at the light crick of his dentures even across the room—until the roar of his oversized diesel pickup grumbled its way out of her driveway and down the street. Though, if you’d asked her, she wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. The low hum of the heavy engine matched the blood pistoning through her ears beat for beat, both seeming to rattle her bones. 

Seventeen days.

She could hear her father all the way from the Twin Cities, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. Hardly different than he had the first time he’d smacked eyes on the old Victorian, nestled quietly on the once-beautiful, presently decaying, Buena Vista Street. “I told you, Millie honey—” 

Looking at the card Val had passed into her hands, numbers to the office woman named Donna swam. Fresh tears bubbled up behind her lashes, herculean willpower funneling into attempts to keep her hands from trembling. Instead, her nose began to burn with the hot need to sniffle, stomach suddenly empty of anything but the stones that seemed to drop down the length of her throat and into the hallow chasm it had become. Rattling with every cardiac rhythm, for a moment she was concerned her heart had broken loose from behind her ribs. 

Swearing she was able to feel her stomach acid jostle as she lifted a hand to massage around her mouth, Mille managed a shaking breath. Seventeen days she’d been parked in her—her, mark that her—very own house. In her very own plot of grass and dirt, her very own story. Her closet wasn’t even unpacked, still eating out of the same bowl with the singular spoon she’d left unpacked from her boxes. Had just managed to position the couch exactly where she wanted it two nights ago when lightning had cracked across her bay window. Thunder opened the floodgates of a brutal downpour. 

Right into her living room. Mad dashing to catch water from ruining her freshly mortgaged walnut floor, she’d used everything from pots to the rolling carry-on Samsonite she’d opened and emptied to her mattress. Not daring a look to the scatter of makeshift catches on her floor, her eyes instead fell back to the card in her hands, Val’s estimate rolling through her brain like unforgiving, expensive lava. 

A whimper assaulted the back of her throat viciously. Burning and acidic, like it wanted to rip her uvula fron the back of her throat and use it to beat her bloody. Headache blossoming from her temple, she pushed her glasses up into her hair to rub at her eyes with the heel of her hands, eyes pinched close in an attempt to will the entire events of the morning into nightmare status. Where it wasn’t real, simply bad fiction. Like that book her sister had gifted her for Hanukkah last year. 

Twenty-six thousand dollars. Running average for a roof, sweet cheeks. Val’s look of sympathy almost drove her over the edge; ready to hand him the keys to her pickup and ask him to just end her and get it over with already. Use the life insurance to fix the roof and sell the house, send her back to Minnesota finally at peace and without burden. Instead she’d just gaped like a wobbly, hardly-with-it foal, knees all but shaking as Val had flitted his hand through the air, throwing out numbers as if it were bingo. 

No way about it. She needed a new roof—money. I need so much frickin’ money—

—knock, knock. Two hard thunks at the front door, which was through the living room and just off the stunning foyer and open-banister staircase leading to the upper floor. Jumping, Mille’s hand flew ot corral her rabbiting heart behind her ribs, stomach flipping as the house seemed to rattle at the effort of whoever had knocked at her front door. Swallowing, which felt painful, she reached to pull her pajama robe tightly around her middle, channeling all her anger into a closing, tight knot.

Padding into the living room, dodging the scatter of water collection vessels across her floor, she worked the deadbolt and the chain lock off the door before opening it a sliver, squinting into the galactically-invasive light of day. Blinking, she scrunched up her nose before wishing whomever–face blocked by stabbing morning light—a less-than-genuine good morning. 

A few seconds ticked by, her gaze corrected. The silver-fox of a stranger, standing rod-straight on US Bank’s mortgaged front porch, stared straight ahead as if she wasn’t even there. Millie recognized him instantly, the neighbor right across from her—she’d seen him walking his gorgeous Rottweiler the same time every morning she’d made herself coffee. Blind, her head had tipped to the side with a kind smile as she watched him not miss a beat, pounding concrete like he owned the world. And he might as well have, nobody lived on this street. 

Until her. 

“Norman, hi,” she tried punching energy into her voice, but it flopped—just as tired and flat as she’d feared. To his credit, Nordstrom’s expression only flickered for a moment; a light wrinkle of his brow, the faintest shift of his eyebrows up. Unmoving, his hand motioned for his companion to come up alongside him, Shadow shifting to accommodate with a lopsided little look on his face. 

Eyes immediately moving to the Amazon package in his hand, the corner of her mouth ticked up a little. “That’s mine, I guess?” Lifting the package, he passed it to her with the quietest smile and nod, shifting a shoulder lightly. Opening the door wide, she stepped aside to welcome him in. “Doors open, like always. You want some coffee? It’s hot and strong.” 

“Something bothering you, McAffery?” Norman’s perception amazed her, even after only a little over two weeks of acquaintance. He’d clocked her every time—that one day she’d been crying, homesick after the lock on the bathroom door had broken. When the dishwasher had stopped working, the light outside her door had flickered to a paralyzed nothing and she didn’t have the first clue how to remove the glass housing to change the bulb. She’d been over to Norman’s no more than half a dozen times, asking for tools. Once that awkward, high-I’m-you-neighbor-can-I-borrow-a-cup-of-sugar had breezed out of the way, she’d bounced herself over to Norman’s stoop every time the wind kicked up sideways. 

Slipping in through the door, he stilled. Uncomfortably close proximity, she could smell the mint on his breath. A bite of aftershave, the glisten of dewy, freshly-shaven skin along his jaw. His side profile was extravagant, devilishly cut and attractive in a way that should’ve been illegal for men his age. Because even well old enough to be her daddy, Norman was handsome. Chiseled, strong. An Adonis, truly–her but Icharus flying too close to his wisdom and bronzed, might-as-well-be-carved-from-stone, arms. 

Gently nudging her with one of his corded, ripped-with-muscle arms. As if he weren’t even challenged to see, the corner of his mouth lifted in a light, nearly teasing, smirk. For a man who lived alone, Norman was roughly flirtatious—with his expressions, anyway. “Y’don’t sound like yourself, Millie,” his hands slipped into the pockets of his perfectly-tight Wranglers, “Bubbly and shit-grinning and all that,” his smile was quicksilver, almost devilish. “What’s eating you, kid?” 

“Thanks,” she mumbled, trying not to chuckle. Choosing to ignore the probe, “Watch yourself, there’s stuff all over the floor.” A sharp whistle from the corner of his mouth sent Shadow trotting through the door, weaving through the collection across her floor to plop himself in the kitchen, right on the this-morning-unrolled rug. 

Toeing the door closed, she shrugged and reached to rub the back of her neck. Halting at her caution, Norman paused and checked her over his shoulder. Frowned severely. He looked genuinely puzzled—all the light, whatever could manage through the milky haze across his damaged eyes normally, evaporated. Simply standing there, he waited for her to come up beside him, one ear turned to her movements. Explaining her flooding disaster from two days ago, she toed aside the half-full Samsonite luggage parked in front of him.

Water sloshed over the size, landing in a fat plop on the walnut floor. Immediately keyed into the intrusion, he looked, amazingly, to the suitcase and then back to her as she came up beside him, looping her arm through his casually. Like old friends, like she hadn’t known Norman for less than ten days. A regular fixture already, in their otherwise ghost of an avenue that was Buena Vista Street. 

“That can’t be good,” he said, low, then looked up. “Could’ve told you it needed replacing though, McAffery. Jack and ‘Livia didn’t do a thing the last twenty years,” he shook his head, a low rumble settling in his chest, “Kids wanted out of the place, fuckups from Chicago.” Gaze still turned upward, as if he could see. Could make sense of the water stains littering the popcorn ceiling of her living room. 

“Yeah,” was all she managed. 

Swelling emotion flared hot behind her ribs, stung the back of her throat like a splash of acid. Swallowing back a shaking breath, her toes curled into the floor for a heartbeat before she stepped to guide Norman into the Victorian’s small breakfast nook, a used baker’s table and two barstools Goodwilled from her mother. Stopping at the table, she explained the barstool at his 11 o’clock, and went to slip her arm from his to see to coffee. 

Norman tugged her to a soft stop. Pulling up, her eyes moved from his hand, suddenly covering hers with a gentle, calloused squeeze to his face. Unreadable, as usual, though he managed to hold her gaze, again, like a seeing man would have. Half their brief relationship, she would’ve never guessed Norman was actually disabled—at first blush, she’d thought he’d been lying, he was so keen. But, when he’d counted the steps up to her front door just-so-slightly under his breath, she’d recanted her judgments. 

Hand inexplicably warm over hers, Norman stiffened up the corded muscle of his arm. Giving her a light smirk, his hand moved to clap her shoulder, lightly. “You’ll figure it out, McAffery. It’s just life.” His hand moved to cup her cheek for just a breath, before his fingers brushed lightly across her features. 

Reading her, as he’d asked to do when she’d showed up to return his toolbelt, eyes burning red and swollen from the sobbing session she’d had on her bathroom floor. The infancy of their hardly-mature acquaintanceship. But it had felt like she’d known Norman her entire life, the handsome stranger across the way anything but. And she wasn’t sure if that was ok–if that was normal, if the odd hammering of her heart against her breastbone at his hand over hers was acceptable neighbor-like behavior. 

It didn’t matter, not really. Norman was here. She wasn’t alone. 

“Smile, kiddo. Increases your facial value.”

tags: @itsgoghtime @horserad-ish@mongoosesthings @sarahsmi13s @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @kmc1989 @strawberrylemonadesoda

@strawberrylemonadesoda

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 28 – HISTORICAL FICS

The Emperor's Fury by valtyr

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Wanda/Janet Rating: E Words: 39,936 Tags: Ancient Rome, Law and Politics, Mentions of Slavery and Non-Con

Summary: Steve is an ex-gladiator. Tony wears a toga. Together, they litigate civil cases. Also a surprising amount of boating.

Reasons why I love it: Can I just say that I love the title of this fic so much? The double meaning didn't dawn on me until the second time I read it. Anyhow, this fic is chock full of intriguing politics, a truly fantastic take on Ults canon, and Steve confusing the hell out of Tony, all of which I am a huge fan of. I love this fic, and I really hope you give it a shot, if you haven't already!

Humbugs and Heart by MountainRose

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 17,583 Tags: Victorian AU, A/B/O, Sentinel/Guide

Summary: Tony's hurt, and there's only one place Jarvis knows he'll be safe. At least they have met the man, or this would be exceedingly awkward. (It's not awkward, Steve would never make this awkward.)

Reasons why I love it: I really love the worldbuilding in this fic – the combination of sentinels and A/B/O is super intriguing, and the way that omega senses work in this universe is fascinating to me. Plus, the way Steve and Tony meet is so sweet, and it makes the hurt/comfort later on in the fic even better. I love this one, and I bet you will too!

Ain't Nobody's Business If I Do by copperbadge

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 38,982 Tags: Noir AU, Gangsters, Internalized Homophobia

Summary: The year is 1930, Prohibition and the Depression are both in full swing, and Chicago Police Detective Steve Rogers has his hands full. There's a dead body on the banks of Lake Michigan, the entire city's legal system is corrupt, and the king gangster of the North Side, Tony Stark, has taken more than a passing interest in him.

Reasons why I love it: While reading this fic I swear I could see it all play out in my head like a black and white whodunit thriller. The setting is perfect, and I especially love the banter between Steve and Tony – they're just as stubborn as they are in canon, and the friction is delicious. Definitely check this one out if you haven't, it's a gem!

[31nightshade]

THIS IS NOT CANON (well it's up to bloom) TO ALT AU!!!

Btw this is arc 1 missa is 18 and Phil is 19

I guess you could kind of call this a journal entry or something like that. A lot of this I am just making up as I go so things like track and so on I just made up.

Tw: suggestive, teen age boys, self Worth issues, mentions of drinking. ( If I missed anything tell me in the replies)

I am officially head over heals for an obvious, pretty, dum man and I don't know what to do. Phil is AMAZING and wayyy out of my league but that doesn't stop me from day dreaming about Phil's purfuct lips and how they would lo- YOU SEE WHAT I MEANS!!! Phil is my friend! I can't be having these tipe thoughts about him!!

The worst part is I knows Phil will never look at me in the same light. I am not worth it anyway, I am nothing compared to Phil. Phil has an amazing body and a good amount of meat on his bones, he's curvey (Idk if that's the word for it) with and without his corset I often imagine myself holding onto it as- and commonly works out with etolise and fit, while I am lanky with a stick almost like figure the only thing saving me is my legs honestly I run track! Honestly roier is the only reason I joined in the first place- any way not only does Phil have a nice body (and personality I could go on for days on how sweet, bad ass and funny he is but I need to go to sleep soon soooo) he has A SICK taste in fashion and music personally it's not my favorite but still sooo cool!! Phil is into gothic rock and fashion and when I tell u he could kill u with how sickening his make up is he could!! His outfits always fit his body amazingly and still manage to make him look like an Victorian Corps is so sick!! I look like a total sceen gear skull obsessed loser next to him! (⁠;⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ)

OH THAT REMINDS ME!! me and roier are going to this party this weekend and it's going to be LIT AS HELL I CAN'T WAIT!! I will be playing some of my own music and some recommended stuff. It's going to be sooooo fun I can't wait to beet roier in another drinking contest!! Servidores ese hijo de puta tiene razón pensando que puede apostarme en cualquier cosa, quiero decir, No sólo no puede mantener presionado su lamedor, sino que no puede conseguir- anyways ahhh idk what to put here any more lolzXD

[i-can-read-to-him]

The Wesper Fic Club's Author Spotlight is a post series that aims to feature two to three fic authors a month, randomly selected from a pool of names put forth on our server. The authors are then asked to answer three interview questions, select up to five of their fics for us to feature, and finally, recommend three fics by others in the fandom.

(Note: Our spotlighted fics are not limited to Wesper, though they tend to be a central pairing in most of our authors' featured works.)

This week, we are putting a spotlight on Lou's writing!

Socials: @waterloou (Tumblr) | hugharekillianmelou (AO3)

❀

Part One: Author Interview

Q: What do you consider your strengths as a writer?

A: I’m using these quotes from sparrow bc I’m gonna be honest and say I really don’t know how to perceive myself: “Off the top of my head, I would say you are very good at lyrical prose, imagery and atmosphere, thoughtful characterization, anddd I don’t know how to articulate this as cleanly, but like… the way you handle dark subject matter (like MCD) in a way that makes it feel... like something that should be dangerous to handle, but it is safely contained. Like one of those poisonous Victorian era books with the striking green colour [Scheele's Green] displayed in a glass case. Also, you maintain canon characterization even in AU settings, which is honestly a skill not everyone has. I love AUs, but some people lose sight of canon so quick and it ends up feeling very OOC.”

Q: What’s your favourite fic you’ve written for this fandom?

A: It’s called Lay Me Gently in the Cold Dark Earth and it’s from Wylan’s perspective when he’s 6 feet under and how he interacts with the earth around him and Jesper. Idk how else to describe it. 

Q: What advice do you have for those facing writer’s block?

A: My only suggestion is just to switch to notebooks and use prompt lists. I struggle with writers block far too much it’s hard for me to sit down and write something most of the time. 

Q: When did you first start writing? What keeps you going today?

A: Jonas Brothers YouTube imagines. I had a little flip notebook on a family vacation and lots of time to kill so I wrote my own imagines/fanfiction. It was also like not a self insert but like I’d insert someone age appropriate and live vicariously through them.  I have so so many ideas and only I can execute them correctly so obviously I need to keep writing. It’s a tough job but if I want the content I need to make it 

Q: Who is your favourite character? What do you love about them?

A: JESPER LLEWELLYN FAHEY!!!! He’s just so complex and loving and I also relate to him most bc of his sadness and feelings of inadequacy and using humor as a cover up. I saw the trailers before I read the books and then I read the books before I watched the show but that one clip of Jesper in those first trailers had me hooked ever since.

Q: If you could travel anywhere in the Grishaverse, where would you go?

A: Shu Han because it looks like I’d have the most fun there. 

Q: If you could be friends with any character in the Grishaverse, who would it be?

A: Tolya!!! He’s got a lovely disposition and it’s nice to have someone with similar interests.

Q: Have you had a chance to interact with the SAB cast? Tell us about your experience(s).

A: The only interaction I’ve had is Jack liking my drawing of him. Honestly tho even tho this cast is amazing I think I’d be fine never meeting any of them. There’s already all my questions answered and I’d probably make a fool out of myself if I met them. 

Q: What are some recurring themes you’ve noticed in your writing?

A: I am using more sparrow quotes bc my only answer was “Hozier coded” and idk if that answer was enough: “I think grief/death/mourning is definitely something that comes up a lot. Related to that... I want to say 'transcendent love,' if that makes sense. Definitely also strong platonic bonds, so friendship... Oh, balance and opposites (how the latter interacts and achieves balance)... sometimes with concepts like life and death, but also with people like Wylan and Jesper.” Ty sparrow ur iconic 

Q: What kind of music do you like to listen to while writing?

A: Hozier, lots of like folk or floaty type of genres. 

Q: Are there any songs you strongly associate with a favourite character or ship?

A: "half return" by Adrianne Lenker could be associated with either Wylan or Jesper and their childhoods. I do think it’s odd that this is the first fandom where music is not the driving force of my writing or associating with characters.

Q: What is one of your favourite scenes from the source material (book or show)?

A: Jesper’s introduction in the show is a classic and he’s just SO COOL.

Q: If could change anything about (book or show) canon, what would it be?

A: 😭 besides it being cancelled? Matthias’ fate. 

Q: What are some headcanons you have that you consider your personal canon?

A: MODERN AU: Jesper is an engineering major. Wylan is a chemistry major (hates it), switches to biology and music double major. Jesper makes and sells jewelry on the side.  REGULAR SETTING: Jesper lives for a long long time and Wylan reincarnates many times and they are together until they both pass. 

Q: Tell us about something in your fics that you’re proud of and wish would get more notice.

A: I do like the poetic flow they have from time to time! It’s nice reading something I wrote and being invested. This is a cop out answer but I think they’ve been appreciated an adequate amount! Everyone is so sweet reading and commenting!

Q: What’s something you haven’t written yet, but want to write in the future?

A: OH BOY I have a list: - This is written but mouse wylan  - sci fi au  - Hozier song wesper series  - human meat business crows serial killers  - Hellraiser au wesper  - whump wesper jesper shot  - Halloween series  - vampire crows au 

Q: What’s something you wish you could write, but don’t think you ever will?

A: Most of the ideas listed above. My brain just doesn’t want to write the ideas. Also Smut. Did it once idk if I could write it again

Q: How do you feel about your fics being translated into other languages?

A: Go ham. As long as it’s credited to me idc

Q: Apart from sight, what is your favourite of the senses to describe when writing?

A: Touch I love touch descriptions because you can get an insight into how the characters experience the world.

❀

Part Two: Selected Works

Two corpses we were, two corpses I saw

Not Rated | 275 words | Wesper Hozier coded, Decay, Burial, Happy Ending

Short diddy about knight/pianist wesper

Golden slumbers

Teen | 460 words | Wesper Grief/Mourning, Pre-Grief, Aging, Jesper-centric

Jesper would always be a mourner

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

Not Rated | 388 words | Wesper Hozier coded, POV Wylan, Character Death, Happy Ending

Wylan needs Jesper, even after life

❀

Part Three: Author's Recs

without pity by demigodbeautiies

Mature | 21.9K | Wesper Non-Con Drug Use, Whump, Mild Gore, Angst with a Happy Ending

It’s 10 am on a Wednesday when Wylan Van Eck’s life crumbles around him. Which feels ridiculous, honestly, but that’s life, isn’t it?  - Jesper gets drugged with jurda parem. Wylan tries his best to deal with it. That, apparently, is hard to do when his life is falling apart.

A Lack Of Air Supply by Milkfrog

Mature | 106.7K | Wesper Past Child Abuse, Agoraphobia, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Wylan Van Eck

"Wylan Van Eck, until the age of 8, felt like royalty. Like the world was made for him, and him alone. He could do anything he wanted to. He could dream of a future so expansive he'd have to live multiple lives in order to fit everything he wanted to do. But Wylan Van Eck, at 22 years old, cannot even leave his apartment." (aka. Wylan has agoraphobia n Jesper moves into the apartment next to him <3)

only love can hurt like this by leehab23

Explicit | 82.2K | Wesper, Kanej Jesper-centric, Second Chance Romance, Pining, Angst, Happy Ending

“I need a drink,” Kaz said. With that, Jesper could agree. “Lead the way.” Kaz took one step and froze, swearing under his breath. Jesper followed his eyeline, his blood turning to ice when he saw what—or rather who—Kaz had noticed across the room. OR: After running away three years ago to Novyi Zem, Jesper finds himself back in Ketterdam. He agrees to pose as Kaz’s date for a job and has an unfortunate run-in with a certain red-headed ex.

Before Sunrise by @aphroditestummyrolls

General | 2.1K | Colm & Jesper, Colm/Aditi Good Parent Colm Fahey, Colm-centric, Baby Jesper

He’d like to say he expected it— it’s a well known fact that babies cry. The first months of parenthood are a tiring business. That was what everyone said, and the ones who didn’t say it were certainly thinking it. But, not all babies cried like Jesper Fahey cried. Just like every night for the past 2 and a half months, the second Addy stopped her gentle rocking and pacing, it started up again— first, as disgruntled fussing, huffing and puffing like a grumpy little bear cub. His downy fluff of curls pressed against his mama’s palm as he scrubbed his nose into her collarbone, tiny fist clenching in her night dress. Colm sighed. OR Jesper is a colicky little baby, and Colm just wants his poor wife to be able to sleep.

❀

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[corruptallure]

Introducing a sloppily drawn Lisa Frankenstein AU: with chubby loser goth boy Floyd as Lisa and brought back from the dead victorian Veneer as the creature.

(I just saw the movie and imagined our fave boys being in this)

I included my head canons for their natural hair color but I definitely love them.

[ruby-serpentis]

horror au! leighton - head canons

pairing: male! leighton x gn! reader

warning(s): corruption, political corruption, obstruction of justice, coercion, mentions of grooming, nonconsensual voyeurism, guilt tripping

MWAHAHAHA I FINALLY FIGURED SOMETHING OUT FOR LEIGHTON!! enjoy you dirty leighton lovers ;)

this is also like...VERY LATE I’M SO SORRY GUYS. (anyways victorian leighton?)

reader is in their 20s, btw.

please note that i do not condone any of this behavior in real life. this is merely a work on fiction based on another work of fiction.

INTRODUCING...THE LUSTFUL JUDGE

you were born in a rough environment, per say.

living in an orphanage was not ideal especially with the caretaker bailey. she was strict, rough, and cheap. she did not care much about you or the other children.

but you eventually found a caretaker: a lovely man named doren and his spouse, sirris. they treated you warmly and with kindness. you loved your home despite the smallness. there was enough money to keep your stomach full so you didn’t complain.

things in your life went awry so quickly. the good thing that finally happened went away in the blink of an eye.

your father was accused of a crime he did not commit. you didn’t remember what. and he was shipped away, never to return.

you didn’t know what happened to sirris, only that you were then placed in the custody of the judge that sentenced doren to exile. he was never to return.

you knew nothing about the judge other than his name: leighton. that and you remember seeing him quite a few times when you used to live at the orphanage. he would converse with bailey often. there was something he wanted and that he would get, obviously.

he housed you as his new ward and kept you locked within his home. it was a nice home. lots of things to do. and for the most part, he left you alone which made you relieved. something in your stomach told you that the older man was off.

you would be unaware of his interest in you as you grew older. and you wished it stayed that way.

when you came of age, leighton started looking for a spouse for you. after all, you were his ward. it was his job to have you married off and perhaps even take a dowry while he was at it. a little extra money never hurt anyone. not that his pockets were empty. they were far from that.

leighton knew quite a few people in high places. old money, new money, aristocrats, factory owners. he knew them all. after all, they supplied money in his pockets if they needed a favor. some of them he’s been working with since he was a young lawyer.

but you? you showed no interest in marriage, despite your popularity. you had people approaching you for marriage almost every day. proposals flooded the mailbox of your home. people even came up to you on the street to ask for your hand.

and you said no to every one of them.

it was cute when you were young. leighton chalked it up to your spritely young attitude and growing into an adult in society.

but after you turned 20, it was no longer cute. you might’ve ended up being unmarried for the rest of your life.

the judge started getting more involved in your life, much to your annoyance. he even started chaperoning you when you went out. normally you would’ve been chaperoned by one of his henchmen or even a house servant.

leighton started to question what to do with you. if you weren’t going to be married off, then you would be stuck with him. and that was not right...was it? supporting you until he died, passed his properties onto you?

it wasn’t until after your most recent birthday did he start seeing you...differently.

he started noticing your attractiveness, your intelligence, the way your body moved sensually and how the clothes clung onto you. you were sweet and melodic. despite the grayness of the world, you were gentle and kind.

despite having him as your guardian.

he was perhaps one of the most corrupt people to exist in town. well, there were others that could be considered worse. but who had the most influence and power? he did. no one else.

and you seemed to grasp none of it.

you were untouched, untainted. and it was because of his influence that you were this way.

and perhaps, if he had married you off, you still wouldn’t be the sweet, pure soul that he recognized you were.

at one point, this obsession grew to the point he had a hole cut in the wall. it was small and hidden well. you didn’t seem to notice. but he would remove the small painting covering it to spy on you, to watch you.

some nights you read and wrote, working on your novel. (yes he had absolutely gone through your room and desk. your writing was quite exquisite)

other nights you looked wistfully out your window, sketching something on your windowsill. a butterfly, a flower you bought from the florist down the street, a book you took from your shelves.

and then there were the nights you...indulged. in earthly pleasures.

your little moans were so lewd and the way you would bite down onto your pillow to muffle your sounds? so so cute.

he was pawing at his own cock, feeling himself get hard so quickly. he wondered what you were thinking about while you touched yourself. could you possibly be thinking about him? that got him even more hard.

he loved those nights where he would watch you from his study, hand smoothly gliding down his shaft. he imagined how warm your mouth would be around his cock and how warm your hole would be, how the walls would clench around his cock, desperately trying to drain his balls.

leighton had to have you.

you needed to be his.

“i will marry my ward.”

it was a sudden announcement to the servants. even his henchman was surprised. alas, he did not say anything. they were all paid to keep quiet and work on the wedding arrangements in private.

getting measured for new clothes was nothing new. so it was routine for you. you didn’t suspect a thing.

after getting your measurements taken, you went to the market to scout for something to buy. you had a little more allowance than usual and wanted to spend it on something.

as you stared at the inventory, a charming man caught your attention.

he was running the stall and he wormed his way into your little heart. it was for sure a marketing tactic, trying to convince you to buy his potatoes or maybe a bottle of fresh milk.

and yet, it worked. you were practically putty in his hands.

you got his name: alex.

“will you be here tomorrow alex?”

“of course. you’re welcome at my stall any time.” his smile was warm, his voice gentle. not to mention his body.

you came home with a skip in your step, excitement bubbling in your veins. leighton thought it was strange. you never expressed such a thing in your demeanor.

and when he asked what had happened, you didn’t answer. you brushed him off, ignored him.

he had a servant ask you and come to him when they had to answer. and you answered honestly this time.

“they met a man, sir.”

“you are dismissed.”

leighton sat and contemplated. there was no way this boy from the country would interrupt his plans to marry you...right?

oh how wrong he was.

young love was like adrenaline. it pumped through the body quickly and fiercely. except unlike adrenaline, the feeling of love and care for alex didn’t leave so quickly.

you visited the markets every day for two months straight just to talk to him, to get to know him. he even walked you through the park or down the shopping streets. you were getting...cozy.

and you were also moaning his name at night.

leighton decided he had to act quickly.

the same night of your wedding with him, you were going to meet with alex in town. alex had plans to formally court you and he was excited.

he waited in front of the address you gave him, faithfully. he was nervous and dressed in his best clothes.

but you never came out.

he wondered where you were, waiting for hours after you guys were supposed to meet.

and that’s when it happened.

it happened so quickly. he was hit on the head, hard, during the night. no one was around to see. the people that saw on the street turned a blind eye in favor for the money coming from the judge’s pocket. and then he was thrown into a carriage and taken away.

you, on the other hand, woke up in a cellar, locked in a literal cage with your ankle chained to the wall. you banged, screamed till your lungs hurt. nothing. you were weak after hours of trying to escape and decided to sleep.

leighton thanked the woman who made the cage, telling her to ignore your pleas for help and screams. “my ward is quite dramatic. i am doing this for their own good.”

“sure.” she scoffs.

“truly your finest work eden.” leighton presses the bag of money into her hand. “should be enough for you to retire to the countryside.”

she doesn’t say anything, following a servant out of the house.

the hours passed and you jumped when the door to the cellar open and saw your guardian. “leighton!” you exclaim. “please! let me out of here!”

he smiles but it unnerves you. it doesn’t reach his eyes. he dangles the keys to your shackles and cage in his hand. “awww. poor little dove.” he chimes. “all locked up. i’m sorry to have to do this to you.”

...have to do this?

“i couldn’t let that boy court you. if he courted you then you would not be...well, mine.” he lets out a chuckle.

“i am not yours! not even as your ward!” you exclaim.

“tsk, tsk. you misunderstand, little dove. you did not want to marry. i debated if i should just arrange something for you. but why would i do that? i realized that you must not have married...so you can stay with me.”

you scoffed at the idea. you remained unmarried for your independence, something that being with leighton gave. he wasn’t involved in your life. why was he suddenly getting involved now?

“i decided to grant your wish. you can stay with me permanently. it’s a promotion even!”

your stomach sank. “no...no!” it cannot be what you were thinking of.

“little dove, our wedding is tonight. private of course. with two witnesses.” he sighs wistfully. “and you have no choice but to accept.”

“i can still say no!”

“are you sure? do you...want to be alone? thrown out onto the street? no one will want you. your birth parents didn’t even want you and no one else in that barber’s family wanted to take you in. who would dare publish your book? horrendous and cheesy and oudated.” he’s read your book! since when? “you won’t be able to make a living. and then you will get desperate, perhaps turn to crime or sell your body. you’re cute, people would pay to ravish you. but you wouldn’t want to be demoted to such a state, would you?”

leighton steps forward and crouches, staring deep into your eyes. you felt shivers run through your body. you felt like an insect under observation by a madman.

“you have no one but me little dove. i took you in under the kindness of my heart.” he places a hand over his chest. “will you repay with such hostility? i would hate to see you become a whore.”

even if you wanted to reject him, he was...right. in almost every sense.

the worst part about leighton was that he spoke the truth. how many people would want to read your novel? it was pointless to even consider publishing.

your silence was golden and he watched the way the gears turned in your brain, the way he pondered and thought.

you spoke through gritted teeth. “...i will...marry you.”

a smirk creeps onto leighton’s face. he made a mental note to find a publisher for you.

“that’s a good little dove.”

[jonmartinweek]

[image description: Jon sits at his desk, leaning forward with his head resting on his crossed arms.  Martin puts a blanket around his shoulders.  In front of Jon is a large cork board.  On its top left, two train tickets are pinned.  Under the train tickets are two polaroid photos; one of Jon and Martin in bed, the second, a shot of the path leading up to the Scottish Safehouse.  Under the polaroids is a large asexuality pride flag.  Hovering centrally in front of the cork board is a key chain with a large, green eye design and four keys on the key ring.  To its immediate right, numerous messy papers are pinned.  On the cork board’s top right corner is a spider web.  There’s a spider spinning web down from it.  On the desk, in front of the cork board, and to Jon’s right, are a large green mug, a glitching tape cassette that’s broken in half with magnetic tape tumbling out of it, an open book leaning on a stack of books, and the golden lighter from canon, which is propped up atop the stack of books.  Across each individual object presented are Jonmartin Week 2023 prompts, stated individually in the post below.]

[art credit: @im-the-king-of-the-ocean]

JONMARTIN WEEK 2023 PROMPTS ARE HERE!

Day 1: Scars // First Days in the Safehouse

Day 2: Monsters // Office Romance

Day 3: Victorian Times // Confession

Day 4: Ace Day

Day 5: Cuddles & Naps // Body Horror

Day 6: Fear Swap // Time Travel

Day 7: Comfy Jumpers // Fairy Tale

Day 8: Somewhere Else // Soulmates

Day 9: Free // AU Day

/

Event Details

Full Event Guidelines can be found here. UPDATED LINK

Jonmartin Week will run April 3th-11th this year.

Be sure to @jonmartinweek​ and tag your posts with #jonmartinweek 2023, so they can be shared here.

This year will begin our Ace Day tradition!  On April 6th, it is International Asexuality Day.  To recognize this, that day (Day 4) will be dedicated to Asexuality.

To be clear, late entries for Days 1-3 can still be posted on Ace Day.  There just will be no other daily prompts that day.

Please use #jmartweek23aceday for your Ace Day posts.  As not everyone in the fandom who will want to engage with International Asexuality Day will also want to interact with Jonmartin Week, this will act as an indicator that it is okay to share a post to this blog.

The 2023 AO3 Collection will be open to submissions starting on April 3rd.

[veraynes-blog]

As a recent follower who discovered you through your truly excellent fic: 🌵🍄🧸🔪☁️

Aaaw, thank you! 🥰

🌵 ⇢ Share the link to a playlist you love

This is my Saxteen Domestic AU playlist I've been listening to for the cute happy vibes.

🍄 ⇢ Share a head canon for one of your favourite ships or pairings

Fourteen essentially has a compulsion to confess his honest emotions to people around him (you know, because of all the Trauma from keeping them secret last time) and it's both the best and worst experience of Simm!Master's life. He's horrified. He's extremely confused. Offended, scandalised, repulsed, breaking out in hives - you name it. But also the Doctor is bluntly admitting to being obsessed with him, and the Master is blue-screening over the weird fluttery feeling that gives him.

🧸 ⇢ What's the fastest way to become your mutual?

Honestly? Just chatting to me 😅 I'm absolutely terrible at sending messages first, but always happy to talk fandom and such!

🔪 ⇢ What's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

I don't know if it's very strange, but when I was writing The Game, I wanted to figure out how WW1 guns worked so I could describe one in a scene. I googled for a while, then ended up watching a YouTube video because I couldn't get it from a written description. Ended up with a very skewed YouTube algorithm for a while 😭 For Unbound I also did some very fun research into Victorian England!

☁️ ⇢ What made you choose your username?

I used to go by the username Sakuri on the likes of FF.net, YouTube, and LiveJournal, which I picked when I was about 13. But it got a bit... Mm. Pre-teen anime sounding? So when I re-joined fandom spaces at 25, I just picked a new one. Verayne, if I recall, was a name I'd once named a NeoPet and I loved it so much that I plucked it from the recesses of memory and dusted it off.

[bokunosoul]

Hiiii ur head canons are literally so good could u make an actual story for the undertaker one from ur “Black Butler men as cliché love tropes pt. 2” post?? It’s too good😏

Once upon a Victorian love story

AN : Oh god this request was like 2 years ago, im so sorry i had a writers block and an unmotivated self ): So i hope this long one shot will be acceptable.

Warnings : This was before undertaker becomes a funeral director, typo errors, reader is sent bac kin the 1800s, angst, past lovers au, abuse, messed up shit in the era, death, im using "adrian crevan" as undertaker's name for this au but it's not official yet (only a theory)

I was sitting the the bus for what seems like eternity now. It was the day of the most awaited college fieldtrip for your history major, everyone is exempted in the finals. Except you need to join this trip and write a thousand words essay to pass.

“Hey y/n!” i turn my head to my friend Samantha who is my seatmate for this trip. "Just in time!" she was panting heavily and i sighed. She was always like this, a last minute go'er kinda girl.

A minute later the professor started doing a roll call for each students---everyone was present. After that the bus started hitting the road, i turn to the bus window and just grabbed my airpods on and listened to some music to pass time whilst watching the view.

Two hours later, we arrived at the outskirts of London. The road was getting narrow and narrow as it reaches the misty forest. Crows flock and squawked around the huge gate of the museum which gave off an mysterious aura at the place. Intriguing.

The huge rusty gate opens automatically and your classmates started filming the place as the bus enters the museum. It has amazing landscape and a castle-like exterior that was well maintained. It was amazing on how it was preserved for 150+ years.

"Ah, Mr. Brown! welcome! welcome!" an elderly man wearing a butler's outfit greets our professor. They seemed to be well acquainted with each other as they hugged each other.

Samantha drags me away in front of the students gathering which a tour guide was calling the attention of all the students. "Welcome to the Phantomhive museum students of the University of England! I am Oliver Smith your official tour guide for this trip." he says and continues making a speech on how about this museum is actually a manor back in the victorian era, where a earl used to live in.

The tour guide leads the steps to the museum and the huge oak doors were already opened, inside it was a floor filled with black and white marbled floor, Greek columns, ceiling decked with lighted chandeliers that made you look in awe, paintings hanged up on the wall on top of the dark oak grand staircase.

You followed the guide upstairs again, which led to a dimly lit hallway which the only light source is the windows. I took out my camera and took photos of several victorian artifacts to document and write about.

After that, the tour guide let us roam around the manor but gave off an warning on prohibited activities such as trespassing the locked rooms, touching the objects and a bunch of other stuff. I walked away and looked around which i ended up suddenly seperated from my friend.

Being bored, you decided to just wander around the museum. You suddenly felt a familiar presence, you stopped and look directly at the gigantic painting encased in gold on top of a fire place. There was a man whom dressed in black holding a scythe of death with a peculiar look of smile on his face and a woman on his side who seems to be in a casket laying beautiful in white.

You found yourself looking the the masterpiece intensely "She is beautiful as always even in her last breath." i turn to look at beside me, it was a man with ominous black hair, maybe a bit older than you and was wearing a butler outfit radiating an peculiar aura. Maybe he's another tour guide? i said to myself

I just stood there frozen feeling a wav of familiarity and longing whilst looking at the painting "Adrian Crevan, he used to be the lord Phantomhive's informant. Well, we prefer calling him 'Undertaker' because that was he's known for. Handling corpses and being a funeral director." the man chuckled, and he turns to look at you and smile.

I just stood there frozen, my mind started go hazy and a sharp pain came crashing in your head and unknown memories started coming back from the past.

It all turned black. That's what i remembered.

Somewhere in the 1800s. --------

"Lady y/n, it's time." my maid Laura says behind me. I sighed and turned around to see her holding a whale bone corset. I raised my arms and let her put on the garment which makes

It was my mother's funeral and i have no energy on whatsoever to dress up and even think right. You did not even need this corset anymore because you don't have the appetite to eat. After finishing on putting on the mourning dress and veil i went outside where my carriage was already waiting, with my father inside it.

He was stern looking as always, but behind that façade of his you knew that he was ecstatic. Afterall he lost all the dignity after taking your mother's last name which made him feel emasculated which resulted to him---having affairs, abusive and absent.

My mother was a weak woman, i must admit. She was bound to die before reaching the age of 40 due to her having pneumonia. Despite this, even when she was sick, she was the one guiding you throughout my childhood. When her body can't take it anymore i was getting guidance from my aunt who is my governess.

At just 37 years old before my 18th birthday, yesterday, she passed away peacefully at night. Right here you could not even cry and remain emotionless, all this was not easily to process in just one day. You were in denial.

I just stood there watching my father shed crocodile tears at his speech on how my mother was a loving wife to him and a bunch of other nonsense that happened to them that did not even happened.

Everyone else was crying pathetically. She was born to die, why would anyone be this surprised? An hour later after the mass, your mother's coffin was brought to the cemetery to lay rest beside her late parents grave.

You just watch it get dumped in with the soil and the mourners throwing a white rose as it gets buried. I walked off as i threw the flower on it. My body felt heavy as i feel my tears started swelling in my eyes and i took off running to hide in the cemetery's nearby garden.

I started hysterically crying eventually falling down on my knees whilst clutching a portrait of my late mother. You could only thank the rain and thunder for now as no one can hear your wailing.

"My, my why is a lady doing here crying alone?" a voice mixed with teasing says. I turn around to see a man with long ash hair wearing a long black suit with glasses.

I sniffled and just wailed again and again until no tears started to come out of my eyes and i just sat on the ground numb from all of the pain while the man just stared at you blankly.

You started getting pissed off as he stares at you "What is your problem, why are you staring!?" i growled at him, he laughs and mumbles an explanation that you could not understand and i stood up and stormed away.

He grabs your hand and gives you something out of his pocket which seemed like a chain. I turn to him and opened my palms. My eyes widened at the sight "T-this!...."

"Your mother asked me to give this to you as a keepsake." the man says, his face stoic. Meanwhile i looked at the locket with my late mother's hair on it emotionally and smiled. Your father did not allow you to keep a memory of your mother, hence burning down all of the photographs, paintings, letters and clothes---every memory of your mother's existence.

The man started walking away "S-sir! wait!" i stopped him. He stops and turn around "W-what's your name?" i asked him stuttering. The man smiled "Adrian Crevan, the grim reaper." he says nonchalantly in a silly way that made you chuckle.

"Thank you, Mr. Adrian the grim reaper...?" i jokingly said while wiping my tears and bow at him in respect. He nods before walking away. You secretly hoped that you see each other again.

Two months later you started healing from the passing of your mother and going out more to balls that your invited too.

I stepped out of the carriage and twinkled at the sight of the beautiful mansion in front of me which belonged to the Duke who is part of the royal family. I stood in line of the guests infront of the door who are waiting for their names to be announced.

"Lady y/n of house l/n!" i thanked the man and stepped forward inside the hall wearing my lavish green silk ballgown and curtsied. Every woman stared me with envy, meanwhile men stared at me with lustful eyes.

This was normal since i was not betrothed to anyone at the moment and married men are taking advances with me to take me as their bride or mistress.

I greeted them respectfully but declined them, it was tiring. Honestly.

I found myself surrounded by women flaunting their riches at me. I wish I'd be deaf right now, it's annoying. You slipped away from them and took an glass of champagne from the table and walked towards the empty halls of the mansion just admiring the moonlight outside of the window. I flinched when i suddenly heard an loud thud near the empty grand staircase in the 2nd floor.

I walked towards where i heard the noise. You held your breath as you saw a young woman's body down the stairs, her head has pool of blood forming, and eyes in shock. I held my mouth as i saw the scene. I could not even move, i was frozen from my spot.

A man then appeared from the scene all dressed in black suit, long ash grey hair and glasses holding a scythe. I recognize that man! he was that peculiar guy from your mother's funeral that gave the locket!

He glanced at you but doesn't seem to care and just slashed the dead woman's body. I closed my eyes firmly at the sight. I took a bit of a peek, but instead of seeing a more bloody scenes it was different.

It was like a cinematic record, but not a movie---but someone's memories in their point of view. It continued on forever and ever until it reaches the end of the tape which has the word 'END' on it.

The reaper looks at you curiously "Why aren't you running away my lady?" he asks and folds the cinematic record neatly and put it into his pocket.

I was left speechless, am i going crazy?

"W-what just happened?" I gulped and he rests his scythe on his shoulders "I just reap people souls my lady, im what you called---death." he stated and grabs your waist swiftly and once you opened your eyes you were floating in the sky gracefully.

"Oh god! this is unsafe!" i screeched and held on to him tight not looking down on the ground since you're afraid of heights. A few moments in floating in the air you both landed on the ground.

He chuckled "Humans like you are really interesting, it's been a while Lady y/n~" he commented and kissed my hands, which made me blush. The man smiles at you and you two sat in an empty bench.

"w-WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!" i asked, still in shock and shook the man, he started laughing "You just saw me doing my 'job' and flew!" h e replied.

I hold my head to process on what just happened, maybe i'm just too drunk? I asked him all of my questions on who, what, where, when and why---all of the possible questions. Well that lead to you to getting more interested in each other that birthed to friendship of a human and grim reaper.

Then a relationship a few months later.

You and Adrian are both happy with each other. Every after he finished his job you two would secretly meet up. He would tease you all the time and brought you on top of the big ben at London on a full moon to have a date. The man was also a clingy person who likes to see humorous stuff all the time. Even if he's not a normal person that doesn't stop you both, but this is the day you will finally introduce him formally to your father.

He was ecstatic and positive as you two both enter your manor to greet your father the Lord of house l/n.

"Father, meet my significant other Adrian."

Your father looked at him sternly and was silent, he just sat there and eat his roasted duck.

"F-father did you not he----." he threw the cutlery directly at adrian's face, making him bleed. The grim reaper did not flinched, not feeling any pain as the knife gashed his face leaving a slash "W-What have you've done!" i screamed as i took out my handkerchief and held it on his bleeding face.

"Did i not tell you to not go whoring off with lowly men like your slutty mother! YOU ARE A SHAME TO THE HOUSE OF L/N!" my father raises his voice making you flinch and your eyes swell up with tears.

"Y/n, i'm okay." the man stood up and frowns unamused "I can' t believe a man like you became my future wife's father." he says disappointed and held you close as his face was still bleeding.

"Future wife? are you joking!? Y/n you will get married to Lord Wallace in 5 months! are you crazy!?" father yells "I DO NOT WANT TO MARRY SOMEONE I DONT KNOW AND LOVE FATHER!" i retaliated and walked towards him sobbing.

Adrian stares at you in shock and pulled you away from your father who is forcing you to go inside your room.

"A-adrian...i don't want to marry someone else..." i sobbed in his arms and he clenched his jaw hugging you tightly. It was painful. I don't want this to end.

The last thing you knew was you two hugging on what seems like an eternity, you two both crying. He let's go of your hand and tried to chase after him but failed as your servants stop you chasing after your love.

He just walked away just like that. He just walked away on our relationship. He promised that he will come back after me. Determined. One week. Two weeks. Three weeks. Four weeks. turned into a month. Then five.

I found myself wearing my wedding gown holding a bouquet of white roses whilst emotionlessly walking down the aisle.

He promised that he will love me. He promised that he will marry me when the time comes. He promised that we will run away together. He promised...

It was painful kissing another man. Just get through it, and i imagined that my love was the one i was marrying. But it was harder than i thought. Disgusting. It was disgusting on how this man look at you like a doll full of lust.

'Ten years have passed. I still haven't gotten over my greatest love. I sometimes wonder on what if he came back to me. I'm turning 29 now, i have 2 boys now and a little girl whom i gave birth to just two months ago. Well, life was not easy, my husband was a good for nothing like my father who is a scandalous and greedy man who brought multiple women in our home. I still have hope that we will meet each other again.'

I closed my diary and hid it on my drawer. I hear my daughter, Adie crying in her crib. I quickly took her out from the crib and carried her to stop her from crying.

"Shhh, don't cry.." i kissed her rosy cheeks and laid her to the crib again admiring my precious child.

I sighed and went to get dressed to go to another soiree that my husband was at to accompany him "Lady y/n, your carriage is ready." the maid said behind the door. I grabbed my mink coat and went to the carriage.

It seems that it was raining heavily outside. I hope it's just rain.

"Mama where are you going?" your eldest son Andrew asks "Could we go with you mama?" Allan chimes in, my second eldest. I kissed their cheeks "I will go accompany your father at the soiree, my darlings. Children are not allowed."

They groaned and whined at your reply. You bid them goodbye and entered the carriage. Your husband was already inside and has his eyes glued onto the window, this was normal and doesn't even surprise you anymore.

The rain was getting heavier and heavier as minutes have passed. The carriage has entered the steep road on the way to enter the Druitt estate where the soiree will be held. It suddenly came into a halt when you the carriage stopped and the coachmen screamed in horror. I stared at the window and it was a group of masked bandits.

Wallace, my husband opens the window "Oi! why the fuck did you stop were going to be late!" he scolded the coachmen. Bang! Bang! the bandits shot the coachmen and footman. I held my breath and ducked my head, scared. I look over to Wallace and he was in fear.

The leader of the group comes over at my side "Lord Wallace eh? your wife is a beautiful woman!" he pulled your chin to your chin. I looked over at the man, disgusted while crying.

"H-how dare you kill Mr. Clark and jameson!" i raised my voice looking over at the bloody corpses of our two servants. "TAKE HER! SPARE ME SIR!" my eyes widened as my husband pushes me over at the bandit and took off with one of the carriage horses. I stared at the man in horror "Your husband really is a coward you know?" he chuckled and drags you outside of the carriage in the pouring rain.

BANG! The leader shot your husband through the head with his pistol. His body dropped dead on the mud and the horse he was riding gallops away into the forest.

"W-why? why are you doing this--" you felt a sharp pain in your chest as the man looks at you smirking and twisting the dagger in you. All you can see is blood soaked in your pink dress, the bandit snatches your jewelry in your body as you stared at him emotionless. He took out the dagger out of your chest and pushes you off the wet ground.

This is how will i die huh? What about my children.....my ambitions....my Adrian....i want to see him one last time..

"Y-y/n..." a familiar voice says. My eyes widened at the sight, i struggled to speak up words, i wish i could tell him how much i have missed him dearly, how i long for him.

He still looked the same as ever. Handsome, even with the scar your father left him in your face. I weakly flashed a smile at him as he hold me close in his embrace, sobbing.

"I....i-i....love..you..so...much..."

She speaks up holding his face, i leaned to him close and our lips met. For one last time on what seems like an eternity that you wished that could continue forever. The woman closes her eyes smiling peacefully as the cinematic record started playing.

He hugs her close sobbing under the rain angrily. He hates this. You and him were lovers, you were both forbidden to each other. If only he was a human.

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

I opened my eyes slowly "W-what happened?" i asked and turn to my friend, Samantha. She looks concerned at you "Y/n you collapsed at the 2nd floor, Mr. Brown found you and took you to the museum's clinic." Samantha sobbed and held your hand.

"I think im okay now, i want to go rest in the bus." i said and stood up from the bed, your friend nods and guides you to go back to your bus seat outside.

As you were going down the stairs Mr. Brown approaches you "Ah, Miss Y/N are you doing fine now?" he asks, i nodded and thanked him profusely for his help. He smiles devilishly and grabs something out of his pocket and gave it to you.

I looked at my hand. It was a locket, with a picture of you beloved and me.

"Memento mori, remember you must die."

A/N : I might revise this if i had the time, this was so rushed since i was so excited in posting these.

[thespianinthebackcorner]

An AU for the Coroika gang AND the promo kids gang!!

So who here's seen Shadows House???

yeah, i figured it's be nobody. Allow me to extremely badly explain the premise of this AU: Take two characters who look extremely similar if not the same, turn one of them into a literal living silhouette, and put them in a master-servant exploitation dynamic in a shady ass Victorian mansion with a shit ton of rules to follow. The Shadows, due to being pitch black, have Living Doll doubles that serve as their face, which means Dolls have to learn to act in perfect sync with their masters. and when I say pitch-black, i mean if you look at them head on they are a silhouette. it takes five minutes of the first episode for us to learn Kate has eyelashes and a nose because we don't get any side shots. there's a bunch of other details too but i'll go into that later.

Fun, right? Probably not for them, but Shadows House has such an original concept I can't help it. Splatoon has a LOT of characters that share similarities (a lot of promo kids get Coroika equivalents!) so this is a really fun AU for me to think about. Let me explain my thoughts, because if I have the time I'll write this out as a fic.

So, I explained the premise up there. But not everyone in Coroika has a double! So who's in the AU? Well, everybody- in a way.

First of all, we have our Shadow and Living Doll pairs. These are the characters with doubles- basically, everyone with a promo kid or Coroika equivalent- or similar, since there's an exception to that rule. For the characters that only have small gear differences (such as their shirt being different) I've counted them in, but if there's too many differences they won't show as a pair. (N-Pacer is in because I wanted more than one person from Team Emperor in, lmao.)

The Shadows are:

Goggles, Specs, Bobble, Headphones, Gloves, Half-Rim, Prince, N-Pacer, Hachi, Nana, Ocho, Mitsuami, Shady, 8-Bit, Barreleye, Shellmet and Hornmet. (if there's anyone else that bears extremely similar resemblance to a named promo kid, do tell please, I'll add them in.)

Their Living Dolls are, in the same order:

John, Rui, Mizuho, Kaori, Cuttlefrsh, Kensaki, Emperor, Tof-U, Steven, Patricia, Hiro, Veronika, Calamar, Anemone, Yarrwhal, Takotruck, and Stephanie.

Well. you might be asking, "hey Thespian, if it's a master-servant dynamic, why is Prince the Shadow and Emperor the Doll? Why is Mitsuami in control of Veronika and not the other way around?" well. that is extreme spoilers for the Shadows House plot, so I Shall Not Say. But, as you might've noticed, some of the characters put in Doll position are quite headstrong... so that dynamic will be rather fun to see. Which characters will be in perfect sync by their Debut, and which will have trouble matching up?

Oh, and an extra layer of Shadows House canon- if a Shadow and a Doll can't mesh well enough and don't put enough effort in getting to know each other, the Shadow dissolves and dies, and the Living Doll is forced to become a masked doll that does tasks around the mansion in absolute silence. Not like they're told that, but they're gonna wanna avoid it anyway.

What's a Debut, you ask? in short, a trial young Shadows undertake to prove their Doll is in sync enough with them to be let out of their rooms as a pair and interact with everyone else in the children's wing of the house. The adults wing is a whole nother can of worms that i am NOT opening unless someone actually wants me to.

ANyway, if anyone else is interested in that... well. talk to me about it!! i would gladly ramble! or push me to write the fic for it, haha.

[isablooo]

More 1890s AU of my Search for Quintessence characters! Here's part 1 ~

I started doodling this AU again because I had the thought: what if Willow was a chalan (cowboy) back in Peru? Like it's the 1890s nothing is stopping me from making him one! No wonder he hates London when he moves there lol, he's used to the outdoors and can't stand the industrial smog.

Lionhart is a spoilt aristocrat (not so different from canon haha). He has an interest in boxing and is a patron to amateur boxing rings- he claims he wants to box one day himself but everyone knows he won't because he'll flop. Before I had finalised Lion's design in canon I had considered leaning into a victorian dandy aesthetic and had experimented with a few designs involving waistcoats and a cane but it wasn't really clicking and I went for dark medieval prince instead!! So I already had a pretty clear image for 1890s AU Lion, I'm glad I get to reuse the lion-headed cane concept here

Umbra is a fashionable lady from Meiji Japan who's travelling Europe with her sister on an art tour. She has a rather eccentric love for art, especially music and hopes to go to as many orchestral concerts and operas as possible on her visit (and improve her piano playing). Umbra is a hard character to put in realistic AUs because she's a death goddess possessing a mortal woman's body and her ethos and circumstances make no sense divorced from that context. So for this AU I'm making her a twin (the lady whose body she's possessing in canon is the good twin and she's the bad twin). I used a kiku-zukushi (many chrysanthemums) pattern on her kimono as white chrysanthemums are associated with death- I still wanted to give her some memento mori motifs even in an AU where she's a human because that really is so integral to her character!

[aliensubstance-011]

Hi hello I absolutely adore your band AU!! I was wondering if you have any thoughts on the band's appearances, like clothes/hair dye/etc.? Especially given you've mentioned things past highschool

I rlly rlly want to draw these dorks practising together and want to stay true to your ideas :3

Hello I saw this just before I was going to go to sleep and then laid awake Thinking About It for the next 30 minutes so here I am!

Under the cut because there's a LOT!!

Richie

He layers just as badly as in canon

So in my head it goes:

Long sleeved stripey T-shirt

then a graphic short tee on top (which eventually becomes a band T-shirt nearer then end of senior year when Steph joins the band! (And when I design the logo lmao))

THEN a zip up hoode

I'm not done

Then a leather jacket he found at a garage sale (it's slightly too big for him normally so it fits over everything else.)

Ripped jeans + belt chains

He has one of those goth belts with all the metal eyelets in it

Boots!! He has loads of different coloured laces he wears each day!!

And ofc he has his blue hair

He has his ears pierced too- he has these skeleton studs and they're all he wears.

Oh and the green and black bracelet Max eventually makes when he becomes the band's friend. It's tied onto his belt loops every morning.

Peter

Pretty similar to canon in my head

He takes off his suspenders and bowtie when they practice though (he feels safe then)

His hair is longer! He wears it in a man bun because it made him feel more masc before he came out to everyone (in middle school)

When he felt more comfortable (and after he came out) he decided to keep his hair long and the man bun just kind of stuck

He gets an undercut maybe? I can't decide in whether that's good or not.

He had LOADS of ear piercings (industrial, tragus, three on each lobe, conch, helix) but he's too scared to get facial ones somehow

He wears dangly earrings in his main lobe piercing

After he makes friends with Steph and stops wearing his suspenders+bowtie altogether he unbuttons and untucks his shirt during practice.

(Steph almost passes out the first time he does this. She can see his collar bones. Victorian woman seeing ankle for the first time core)

Richie clips a short chain onto his belt loops "So we match!"

His yellow and orange bracelet becomes his hairband- you can't usually see it unless you're looking for it/it's in a ponytail

Ruth

Ruth was actually so so difficult for me to decide

Her normal style just goes so hard yknow?

I think she starts wearing Docs like Richie

But she just has rainbow laces and that's it she doesn't change them

She gets a leather jacket too and paints the band logo on (badly)

The band tee she'll wear but it'll be over-sized and half tucked in

Logo front and back babey!!

I don't know what else for Ruth so if you have any ideas please feel free to use them

Her blue and white bracelet is just on her wrist like a normal person lmao

Steph

Nose piercing Nose piercing!! She has a little ring

Her style is already SO SO good for the band AU!!!

She has fingerless leather gloves

She also has tattoos methinks

The beginnings of a rose + thorns sleeve on her left arm

And a shitty stick and poke star on her right wrist (over her veins) she got when she was 16- it's started to fade so she gets other stars tattooed on her wrist around it (one for each band member?)

She's the one who commissions an artist to design the logo, and gets t-shirts made for each of them!!

She, and Ruth both get the logo put on leather jackets. Steph's is proper vintage and is more of a biker jacket though.

She tries to convince Richie and Peter to get ones too, but Richie doesn't want to damage his jacket and Peter refuses to wear one at all (he won't wear the shirt either)

(She catches him using it as a sleep shirt. She teases him about it for weeks)

She cuts her band top into a crop top but she doesn't always wear it.

She dyes the tips of her hair red for while

But it fades into pink weirdly quick

So she dyes it back to her normal ombre

Steph's pink bracelet hangs from a hole made in one of her drumsticks. Her bracelet was made first (Max cried when he saw it)

Max

Max isn't technically part of the band

But he is their #1 fan forever and ever

So he has a shirt too that he wears to all of their (eventual) gigs!! The logo is a bit faded/damaged and washed out because he keeps washing it the wrong way

He has a scar in his eyebrow from when Steph punched him after she first joins the band (this kickstarts his redemption.) (Punchstarts?)

And he has his purple and yellow bracelet around his wrist!

I still haven't figured out how to fit Grace into this AU at all. I do HC that she thinks all music other than Christian Music is Of The Devil™ and she plays the flute but that's about it honestly... One of these days I'll figure something out

[fungalittleweirdo]

Nineteenth Century ROTTMNT AU

tagging @spoopyblues214 here because they love the meme with the four character archetypes (but instead of the victorian englishman it's a spanish revolutionary in this) potentially crossing paths due to them being from the same time period and i want to dedicate this post to him <3 i'd even credit them for the idea if i didn't write it down first (silly)

side note: this derives from canon SO MUCH but this is the best way i could make it work in my head to make everything fit into place

~

the year is 1827. seventeen-year-old raphael is on the run, wanted by the spanish monarchy for inciting rebellion in the spanish colonies. he ended up in texas where he found michelangelo, a fifteen-year-old ex-mercenary cowboy planning to return east. the two meet at a saloon, drinking sassafras together.

"i seen your poster 'round down south of the border they're buildin'. spanish king'd pay a pretty penny to have you behind bars."

"you haven't seen any thing like that."

"relax, i ain't doin' none of that no more, jus' wanna go east. i am beat from all the heat 'round here."

the two agree to travel together, since bandits in that area are dangerous to deal with alone. raph realises mikey is hella fantastic with a whip while mikey acknowledges raph is a hella good shot. raph prefers his knives though, it's easy to put the blade between his fingers, even if he runs the risk of cutting himself. the two travel from corpus christi to new orleans, resting in town for a little while.

after some time the two come across a former samurai, homeless and starving in the streets. they take him in, feed him and mend his garb. he carries a splintered bo staff and what little he has in a rucksack with a persistent frown on his face. sixteen-year-old donatello expresses his gratitude by giving raph his unused sai and mikey an unused kusari-fundo because of his whipping skills. the three of them live in louisiana for a couple months, enjoying the bayou until raphael felt like he was being watched. there is still a price upon his head, the lingering worry deepening the stress lines on his forehead. the three manage to board on a boat headed to new york. mikey and raph leave their horses with a free woman, april and her friend casey, who plan to travel on land masquerading as a slave owner with his slave. those two plan on meeting with casey's cousin, cassandra, moving in the lower east side to keep her company.

the three turtles board a ship with an annoying stock boy and a crew of rogues who call themselves the purple dragons. as much as the three avoid these bothersome pains in their necks, they always meet with the stock boy when they need food. they always cross paths with the purple dragons when they need to get to starboard for fresh air. a few months of enduring these bullies and their luck got worse once the ship was rounding the coast of the tip of florida. a crew of pirates came across their ship and donatello was sick of it, fighting the pirates off after they threw stock boy and the dragons overboard.

sixteen-year-old co-captain leonardo and donatello hamato were at a stalemate at port, raphael was held back by capitán piel and michelangelo pinned señor hueso down at starboard.

"aye, swift with your staff, hm ?"

"your blades are faulty, marauder !"

leo quirks an eyebrow and drops his swords, raising his arms in surrender with a smug look.

"let's strike a deal, fox-eye."

the co-captain gives piel a look and he lets go of raph, then mikey gets off of hueso, who stands and glares at him. donnie quirks an eyebrow and stands with his staff on the plank his feet are planted upon, waiting for leo to continue.

"my blades are faulty to you ? what do you know about blades ?"

"usually concerns for pirateers like you are gold and jewels."

"answer me or you'll have the shogun to answer to."

donatello stills and drops his staff, lifting his hands up.

"if you would allow me to reach for my family blades ?"

leonardo watches carefully as donatello unsheathes his twin odachi, carefully resting them upon his hands and holding them up with a bowed head. the pirate drops his swords, reaching for the presented blades.

"i have given you the last of my metallic weapons. now please leave my brothers and i alone."

mikey and raph were surprised to hear donatello refer to them as his brothers, but they connected the dots quickly and kept their smiles to themselves. leo observed the odachi in his hands and gave them a test swing, grinning to himself from how easy his technique came to him. he looked up at donatello, the samurai's head still low.

"aye, look at me."

donnie listened, a glint shining in his eyes as he blinked up at leo.

"you best be ready for another lad to join your family, because i am right here."

raph, mikey, and donnie join the crew of leo's ship. while capitán piel is the true captain of the ship, he lets leo lead pillages for fun. definitely not for the fact that the kid has a natural talent for leadership, he just had to learn the hard way how to watch for his crew. unfortunately, leo couldn't acknowledge the fact that a pirate crew is not expendable. señor hueso thinks the only reason why he and his brother are the last ones alive from the original crew is because they're the ones still truly in charge. the turn of events for leo to adopt three strangers from different corners of the world as family all of a sudden had them questioning his motives.

the ship manages to arrive in virginia for a break, which is where the four crew turtles decided to watch big mama's travelling circus. piel and hueso got to stocking up for food and supplies in the market. so the brothers saw the leading act in said circus was a lean middle aged man, going by the stage name lou jitsu. donnie recognised he was a martial artist by the way he moved, fighting all the big burly men ringleader mama pitted against him, but mikey could tell by the strained look on his face that he was tired.

lou jitsu was exhausted, he had been fighting for big mama's circus for over a decade. he was once part of a prominent family in japan until he ran away against his grandfather's wishes, travelling the new world as an actor until he ran out of money. he managed to stay with a witch doctor in louisiana, baron draxum. the yokai bewitched lou jitsu body and soul, granting him more money and fame... but at a price. lou jitsu started acting and travelling again, even going back to japan. unfortunately, four of his lovers bore children draxum cursed to be half-turtle half-man. lou had some idea, because he occasionally received letters from them believing them to be fans who wanted to bear his children.

raphael's mother in south america raised him despite ridicule from the townsfolk. leonardo's mother abandoned him and sr. hueso was the one who took him in and he and capitán piel raised leo as their own little brother. donatello's mother tried hard to keep him hidden until samurai raided her home and took him away to be raised by a high status family instead. they thought of him as their good fortune. michelangelo's mother had to sell him to some farmhands, so he grew up tending to livestock and keeping them together in one spot.

once lou jitsu spots the four turtles in the audience he experienced a transformation like no other, the dormant part of the curse draxum put on him taking place. he quit on big mama, leaving the circus to join the turtles.

"surely... you can give me a chance to be in your lives... ?"

the turtles hesitantly agreed and the group went back to the boat to escape big mama, leaving the harbour to get to new york. the crew arrives and they meet casey and april in the harbour, mikey and raph glad to see their horses again.

the ragtag group of raph the spanish revolutionary, leo the pirate, donnie the former samurai, mikey the cowboy, and lou jitsu the ex circus performer settle in the greatest city in the world– shenanigans ensue !