#and finishes for various elements such as flooring

[rochadesignstudio]

Commercial & luxury residential interior architect & design firm in Los Angeles

[fleurfiles]

can you please write a crazy fanfic where billie is like a fuckboy and she meets reader at a house party in LA and wants her so bad but reader plays hard to get and they end up having sex at hers and billies friend is in the room but billie doesnt gaf ? <3

FOR TONIGHT | b. eilish.

ꨄ︎ this is probably the filthiest thing i’ve ever written. read at your own risk!

house parties were usually never your thing until you met charli.

you had bumped into the pop star in your coffee shop once while running late to work, and somehow the both of you sparked up a conversation when you muttered something (mostly derogatory) about your manager under your breath, earning a laugh from the girl, and ultimately leading to your undying friendship.

ever since the two of you became friends, charli had pulled your buried, most innermost extroverted parts out, dragging you along to house parties and clubs with various famous people— from actors to DJs, you had your fair share of once in a lifetime interactions.

tonight, you currently sat on the floor of your best friend’s room, finishing off the wing of eyeliner that boldly lifted your cat eyed look. you were clad in a lacy spaghetti string top and a pair of short brown leather shorts, a pair of boots that you borrowed from charli waiting for you by her vanity— which she was currently sitting at, finishing off her makeup.

“you ready for this party tonight?” she asked you, turning around in her rolley chair to offer you a wiggle of her eyebrows, excitement glossing over her eyes, “i’m so excited, we haven’t been out in ages.”

“i don’t know,” you shrugged honestly, standing up and lazily dragging yourself to a spot on her king-sized bed, careful not to get any of your makeup on her pure white sheets. “i feel like it’s just another party we’re going to, nothing too special.”

charli turned her attention back to the mirror and applied her blush in gentle but swift movements, a pinky tint beginning to blossom against her cheeks as she called out to her alexa to shuffle her getting ready playlist. when it turned on some of her notorious house music, she bopped from side to side, speaking loudly over the beat, “you’ll have fun tonight, though— it’ll probably be more chill than usual!”

you rolled your eyes, because charli’s chill and your chill were on opposite sides of a spectrum. but you couldn’t even protest because you swore up and down you’d stop being so damn antisocial, and actually try going out again for once, though it made you cringe at the thought of stepping out of your comfort zone.

it didn’t take long for your best friend to finish getting ready, and when the both of you had your bags in hand and empty shot glasses discarded in the sink from your pregame, you strutted out the door and made your way to the uber that waited outside her door. you yanked the car door open and greeted the driver, who was a young-looking man with fierce blue eyeshadow and curly blonde hair. he was sweet and genuine when he said hello back, pulling off into the road and typing the address into the GPS.

anxiety began to bubble in your chest, but not because you were scared— it was mainly because charli wouldn’t let you be a debbie downer and not drink or dance with her tonight. it wasn’t that you weren’t in the mood, but it had been so long that you just felt like you were out of your element.

“i’m fuckin’ pumped!” she hooted from the seat next to you, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small glass of pink liquid, and you furrowed your eyebrows at her when you realized that the liquid was actually pink whitney.

“charli,” you mumbled, mostly out of second hand embarrassment for the poor driver, “did we not just pregame?”

she shook her head as you arrived at the party, insinuating that the shot you both took together wasn’t enough for her. your eyes widened as the car came to a stop— this house was huge.

you didn’t even really know who was throwing the party, just that you were invited, but whoever it was clearly had enough money to spend it on this huge, all black penthouse. cars were lined up and down the driveway and road, ranging from bentleys to ferraris and porches, and your stomach twisted when you saw a couple familiar faces walking in and standing in the lawn with red solo cups in their hands.

charli picked up on your anxiety and rubbed your back as you both thanked the driver and exited the vehicle, “relax a bit, love, we’ve done this before.”

“that isn’t as comforting as you think.” honesty is laced in your voice as charli shrugs at you, hand on the small of your exposed back, leading you inside. the lights were completely off except for a few LEDs here and there. people were all over the place, from corners in the living room to people gambling in the living room, and the secular atmosphere made you tense up a little bit. it had been so long since you had been to one of these functions, and at first, you weren’t sure you were going to survive.

however, about an hour into the night, you had thanked charli a million times over for getting a little liquor in your system. you weren’t drunk, but you were tipsy enough to where every nervous atom in your body told you that being timid was just a suggestion, not a command. you were pretty much all over the place now�� cutting up on the dance floor with charli, carrying on with some of your friends— it made every tense moment soften up.

you were dancing and singing loudly to whatever was playing on aux when the beat suddenly switched to more of a synthy sound, and you immediately recognized charli’s voice that was amplified from the speakers above.

“hey billie, you there?”

you thought it was slightly ironic that they were playing her own music at the party, but you just shrugged as you weaved yourself through the thick crowd, making your way over to the drink station.

you were waiting patiently for your drink when you heard a familiar voice behind you, and then someone’s warm skin connecting with your own on your exposed legs. you turned around and met eyes with none other than billie eilish, who was offering you a small grin as she held her red solo cup next to you, swishing the liquid in it around a few times, “didn’t expect to see you here, angel.”

you spun around on your heel, your face just inches away from her own as she took a sip of her drink, still holding eye contact with you over the rim of her cup. the way she looked at you— lowly and dark with her blue eyes sparkling in the sparse light, it made a unfamiliar heat crawl up your neck as you sucked in a breath, “eilish. nice to see you.”

“definitely nice to see you,” billie giggled, irises scanning you intensively as she leaned up against the marble counter next to her, “you look really fucking good.”

“for someone you’ve only met a couple times before this, you’re awfully bold.” you swallowed with a laugh, downing another shot as the alcohol burned your throat, making you let out a quiet cough. you smacked the shot glass against the counter and smirked at billie, “and for the record, i’m not really into the bold type.”

billie titled her head as you started to walk away, though you fully expected her to follow you— and you were right. her footsteps were close behind yours as you muttered apologized throughout the large crowd, finally settling on escaping through a pair of big glass doors, stepping out into the warm california air, perching against the balcony.

the teal eyed girl eventually leaned closer to you, her smirk widening as she took another sip out of her cup, “well, good thing i’m not all that bold, just persistent.”

you roll your eyes, “can’t you just go torture some other girl?”

“only if you admit that you like the attention first.”

although she was annoying, billie lived up to her word that she was extremely persistent with her wits. you ignored her attempt to flirt and reached into your leather handbag, fishing out a cigarette and a lighter. as you grab one and take a thick drag, billie pouts at you, but you shrug off her half-irritated expression. the faint orange glow from the end of your cigarette illuminates against your face, and you turn your head and exhale your smoke when you hear billie speak.

y’know that’s gonna kill you, right?”

a shrug is all you offer to her, letting it be known that her opinion was absolute last on your list of things to consider.

“hope it does,” you speak coolly, “so i can get away from you,” you seethe with obvious annoyance laced within your tone, but it doesn’t make billie stop her advances. she just watches as you smoke, admiring the waning sunset and the chatter of people’s voices muffled over the sound of music playing from inside the house. the silence is comforting until of course, billie breaks it, “okay damn, do you always have an attitude like this?”

“only when people think they can tell me what to do.” your reply backs up the action of you bringing your cig up to your lips to take another puff, almost to prove a clear point to billie, who’s watching you with intense eyes. she shoves her hands into her pockets nonchalantly, “m’kay, miss hard to get— what do i have to do to make you not hate me?”

“probably die.”

“ouch. but you’re not as scary as you think, angel.”

her words piss you off, but mainly because there isn’t much of a false statement within them. you weren’t scary at all, but you were mainly just annoyed and too almost-drunk and cigarette buzzed to give a damn about whatever she was saying. everytime you saw her at a party, it was this— her trying to hit on you, you refusing but in a flirtatious way, and then you went about your business. but there was something enigmatic about her advances now that made your skin tingle, especially when she looked at you with those fucking icy blue eyes.

you finished off your cigarette and threw it on the wooden floor below you, smushing the butt of it with your booted heels, a sigh passing through your swollen lips. billie spoke again, a little more softer this time, but her voice still intense as always.

“why do you play so damn hard to get, y/n?”

the question makes words of honesty roll of your tongue, the feeling of intoxication rolling over you like a small wave as you spoke lowly, “honestly, it’s just fun watching you try this hard.”

billie laughed at that, the sound smooth and sultry, and stepped closer, her body nearly brushing against your own, making your breath hitch slightly in your throat.

“be careful, baby,” she warned, her voice soft, but still weaved with her usual tone of challenge and determination, “i’m not sure you really understand what you’re getting into.”

your eyes locked with hers as she spoke, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how serious she was, yet how stupid she sounded. “wow, billie, i’ll hand it to you— you talk a lot of shit for someone who hasn’t made a single move yet.”

billie’s smile faltered a bit, swooping all her hair to one side of her shoulders as she moved so close to you that you could hear her breathing. she gave you a quick scan with an unclear motive behind her eyes, whispering, “don’t worry, babygirl. i’ll do plenty.”

you scoff, though the lack of distance between you and billie made you anxious now. her skin was touching yours now, and the contact sent ribbons of electricity up and down your spine as you looked up at her. you didn’t even realize that you weren’t breathing until she told you to do so, and embarrassment crawled onto your face when you caught your lost breath.

she had grabbed your waist without a word, her face already so close to yours that it was like you were asking for her to kiss you— so that’s exactly what she did.

she hungrily pressed her lips onto yours, fingers digging so hard into your sides that you were sure she left marks. the kiss was hungry and lustful, your body succumbing to her touch as your hips rocked against her own involuntarily, which made you feel even more embarrassed.

she pulled away with a laugh, “somebody’s a little worked up now, hm?”

before you could respond to her teasing, a loud crash echoed from deeper inside the house, the sound sharp enough to cut through the thick tension in the air. instinctively, you glanced over your shoulder, but billie didn’t loosen her grip on you, her hands still firm on your waist.

“don’t even think about it,” she murmured, her voice low, a warning laced with something a little darker.

“what if someone needs help?” you teased, trying to play it cool despite the heat swirling between you. you were trying to play off the fact that the effect she had on you was now to her knowledge, but your attempts were failed.

billie leaned in closer, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered next to you, her breath tickling your skin. “oh don’t worry— they’ll be fine. but you? you’re mine for the night.”

you sucked in a breath, her words pulling a spark of something unexpected in your chest as you spoke, “you’re awfully possessive for someone who just met me,” you shot back, though you couldn’t quite ignore the way your heart raced at the thought of going home with her tonight. it didn’t seem like such a bad idea now— it was nothing serious, just a loose hookup with some hot girl from a friend’s party, what ever could go wrong?

billie grinned at your statement, her thumb now tracing small circles on your side, sending shivers down your spine. “maybe, but i’m sure you like it,” she said, her lips brushing against yours lightly, teasingly, as though she was waiting for you to make the next move.

you whined at that. your little ‘hard’ act was over now, and all you wanted was for the little issue that had soaked your underwear to be fixed, and fixed immediately. but you couldn’t let billie know that just yet, so you tilted your head and leaned in, speaking seductively, “and what if i don’t, hm?”

“then i guess I’ll just have to convince you,” billie replied, the smirk on her lips growing nothing but wicked as her hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you in closer.

the words made a sharp feeling of arousal poke inside of you, and before you could process them fully, she kissed you again—fiercer this time, like this was her only shot at you. you didn’t want it to end, really— but she cut it off to whisper in your ear, her nails digging into your soft flesh.

“let’s go, now.”

there was nothing more that you could do to protest. you were hopeless at this point, so you latched your hand onto billie’s as she guided you back inside and through the crowd, pushing past people just to make it known that you were coming with her.

cocky bitch.

you eventually pushed past so many different people that a strong mix of cologne, liquor, and perfume filled your nose. you had made eye contact with charli, who did nothing but give you a wiggle of her eyebrows and a wink when she saw who you were leaving with, which made you even more scared.

as you made your way outside, a fresh wind of air flew against your face, and you felt like anxiety was the only thing pumping through your veins as billie led you to her black porsche, opening the door for you.

“my lady,” she joked as you climbed inside, though really, in this moment, it felt like her saying “my whore,” was more appropriate. here you were— playing hard to get at first, now cooped up in some girl’s car that you barely know after a party, and on the way to her place.

the car ride felt way longer than it actually was, because your mind couldn’t stop racing against your will about what was about to happen to you. you sat in the driveway now, and billie wasn’t speaking, which only made your nerves more amplified as she opened the door for you again, eventually leading you inside.

as soon as she closed the door behind you, she was on you like white on rice. her lips immediately smashed into yours— and it wasn’t sweet, either— it was hard and fast and so very impure. you were moaning into her mouth when she swept you right off of your feet, your legs wrapped around her hips as her back settled against the wall. one of billie’s ringed hands supported your ass as her tongue timidly crossed paths with your own, and soon enough, the only sounds that could be heard without her house were the sounds of heavy breathing and lips smacking.

billie pulled away and your legs detached from her hips because you felt like if you didn’t stand, you were gonna pass out. a whine left you as billie shot you a look of such passion that it almost scared you.

“look at you,” she talked louder now that you two were in private, her tattooed hand coming up to wrap itself around your neck, but lacking a squeeze, “just an hour ago you were so persistent that i leave you alone, but now the only thought in your head is of me fuckin’ you, huh?”

you can’t even respond because you know she’s speaking nothing but the truth. billie doesn’t give you the opportunity to speak, either, she just presses you further against the wall and swipes her lips against your own, backing up and leading you to her bedroom without breaking the kiss, your only guidance being her hand that was firmly pressed against your throat.

billie eventually had you laying back-down on her bed as she sat on top of you, hands roaming all around your exposed skin. you let out helpless moans— you were such a horny mess when you were drunk, but you didn’t care now— all you cared about was making sure billie understand how eager you were for her, how bad you needed her.

she broke the kiss and began to use her right hand to undo the zipper on your shorts, but when it jammed, she let out a thick sigh of annoyance.

“just fuckin’ get rid of it, it’s pissing me off.”

you adhere to her request with quick obedience, taking off your shorts quickly and discarding them by throwing them somewhere around the room. billie offers your neck light kisses before sucking at the bare skin, a moan passing through your lips as she left dark love bites on you.

“b-billie…” you moaned, ��please, just…touch me already.”

“oh, i thought you couldn’t stand me.” she teased you, taking off your lacy top, revealing your bare boobs due to you not wearing a bra.

your nipples laid victim to billie’s touch as she sucked on your left one, her thumb and index finger rubbing against your right one, and it took everything in you not to cum right then and there.

the alcohol in your body made every single part of you so sensitive, and you didn’t know how much more you could take when billie left a huge hickey on the skin in between your breasts. she was relentless with her movements, her head now plastered right between your thighs, the tip of her nose meeting with the very tip top of your clit.

billie’s eyes drop to your pretty blue panties that you’re wearing, a noticeable wet spot forming in the crotch of them, making your cheeks feel hot to the touch.

“already so wet for me and i’ve barely even touched you. what a dirty little girl— you wanna be fucked all better by me, hm? someone who you hardly know?”

you don’t let anything out but noise, and billie yanks your underwear down with a swift movement, her head so deeply buried in between your thighs that you can feel her warmth against your sex. billie lets out a cocky gasp when her eyes lay on your pussy, “gosh, you’re dripping, baby.”

“eilish, just t-touch me already,” you stutter out pathetically, and billie can’t hold back anymore, so she listens to your request and fulfills it, fully. her tongue quickly maneuvers itself into your leaking cunt, collecting all your juices like trophies as her thumb comes up to rub your clit. the pleasure makes your skin feel hot and tingly as you arch your back, little moans passing through your lips.

just as things start to get more intense, you hear someone walking around in the living room and call out billie’s name. your eyes widen and you freeze up like a deer in headlights, but billie looks up at you and shrugs, “it’s just zoe.”

“just zoe?” you whisper-yell, “i don’t wanna be caught having sex with you when your friend is here!”

“then don’t get us caught.”

billie says it like it’s simple, and she returns to the task at hand, eating you out like it’s the last meal she’ll ever have. your hands found themselves in her hair, grabbing a handful of it so hard that it was the only thing steadying your body weight.

“you taste s’good, my god.” billie mewls against your sex, “made me work so hard for this pussy, feels like such a reward.”

billie switches out her tongue for two of her fingers now, and she doesn’t care that they’ve still got her rings on them. you both watch as your cunt swallows her digits that pump into you harshly, her silver jewelry now coated with your arousal. she curls her fingertips upwards, hitting a sweet and spongy spot deep within you that makes your hips buck wildly.

you feel your eyes start to shut, but billie gives you a slap to the thigh, forcing you to accept her offer of eye contact that she gives you, “look at me, slut. you wanted this— so you’re gonna watch me fuck you, and if you even make a single noise, i’m not letting you cum. understand that, princess? nod if you do.”

you nod fervently, your lips flattening out as you made sure not to make a single noise. footsteps sounded from outside and a knock was harbored against billie’s bedroom door, “bils? you in there?”

“a little busy right now, zo.” billie called out, still fucking into your pussy harshly with her thick fingers. you felt your orgasm bubble deep within you and you wanted to make a sound so show for it so badly, but it seems like billie picked up on the memo by the way she used her other hand to toy at your swollen clit.

“oh, okay! just wanted to let you know that there’s leftovers in the fridge, and that i’m gonna go ahead and hit the hay. goodnight, love you!” zoe called as her footsteps faded out, and billie yelled back something about how she loved her too and how she’d probably eat the food later.

she then turned her attention back to you, watching as you fell apart because of her hard, quick movements.

“bil…bil…billie, please,” you whined and whimpered and begged for the blue eyed girl, your hips crushing down onto her fingers in a desperate effort to get yourself off, “i’m so close…i’m gonna…gonna cum—“

“hm, i don’t know, should i even let you cum?” billie spoke through a teasing, soft voice, making you whimper at the fact that you may or may not be able to cum, and whatever the answer was it was completely up to her to decide.

you couldn’t take the teasing anymore— you were so damn close, and would pretty much do anything to finish yourself off. you looked down at billie and when you made eye contact with her, you immediately screwed your eyes shut. it was just too much.

but you wanted to reach that sweet point of pleasure so bad, so you whispered in pleasure, “p-please billie, i’ll do anything just…i wanna cum, i wanna cum so bad…”

“only if you ask nicely.”

clearly billie was fucking with you. you had obviously asked pretty nicely the first time, but it wasn’t adequate enough for her, needless to say. she had slowed down her thrusts, making that tight feeling in your tummy subside, and you let out a long whine of complaint at that.

just ask nicely, you thought— and if maybe you did it the right way, even though it chipped at your pride, you’d finally get to cum, the feeling you’d been waiting for for what seemed like hours.

“please, please, please let me cum.”

billie tilted her head to the side cockily, and you already knew there was gonna be something else she was going to force you to do until you could be granted that feeling of release.

“please, who?”

usually you couldn’t be paid to call someone anything other than terms of endearment or their legal name, but in this moment, it felt so effortless as the nickname slipped between your teeth, a small moan pressed behind it.

“p-please, mommy— please just…l-let me…fuck…!”

billie cooed underneath you as she fucked into you relentlessly, that familiar feeling reappearing in your stomach as your cunt fluttered around the girl’s fingers, her other hand busy with rubbing your puffy clit in big, sloppy circles, fueling your orgasm.

“that’s right, make a mess on me, it’s okay.” billie praised, watching you as you came undone on her fingers, a bunch of ‘thank you’s and moans leaving your lips as she fucked you through your orgasm slowly.

you can’t even speak it was so good, and billie gives your clit a couple lazy kisses before gathering your juices up onto her fingertips, placing them in her mouth and looking up at you with hungry eyes.

“taste fucking marvelous, babygirl.” billie giggled, coming up to your level to plant a kiss on your own lips before she stood up off the bed, venturing over to her dresser where she pulled out a thick, purple strap. she slipped her own clothing off and started to slip the strap on, making you gulp nervously when the length was put into perspective.

“y’know,” billie starts as she makes her way back over to her bed, where you were a quivering mess, laying on her plain sheets that were now decorated by your small wet spot beneath you.

“didn’t think you’d be so submissive in bed.”

“i’m not!” you protest, but you start to regret your words when billie slammed into you, the tip of her cock kissing your cervix, making a feeling of pain mixed with pleasure wash over you. it was a mistake to say that in short, billie wasn’t the only one capable of being the boss— and you wish that the statement had never left your mouth.

billie ruts her hips into your own, and her demeanor is nothing but mean. one hand is tugging at your hair, and the other slapping your ass every once and a while— unless her thumb is too busy rolling against your clit that was so sensitive to touch, it borderline hurt.

“talk to me, slut,” billie spoke naughtily, “how’s this feel, hm? my dick slamming into you, your pretty little pussy clenching around me? that feel good?”

“s-s’good, yes, bils!” you yell, completely disregarding the fact that zoe was just a door or two down from billie’s, but you didn’t care anymore. you couldn’t. the way billie was fucking you made it nearly impossible not to scream.

it seemed like her whole demeanor changed because she slowed down a little and placed sloppy kiss all over your cheeks and forehead as she thrusted deeply into you, the imitative cock filling your tight pussy up to the brim. billie lovingly held you now, “i know you wanna cum, princess— it’s okay, cum for me, wanna see your pretty face while you do it, too.”

it’s like she knew before you did, because as soon as the words left her mouth, you felt your second orgasm incoming, making you gasp. it felt much more powerful than the first, and you bucked your hips irregularly as you chanted billie’s name like a broken record, “i’m cumming, bil— mmph! i…i’m…”

“shh, it’s okay, i know it baby…i know how good it feels. tell mommy how good it feels.” billie whispers at you, and you offer her nothing but little whimpers as you came down from your high, still riding her cock slowly to fully finish you off.

when you finally settle down, billie pulls out of you, putting the strap away and returning with a washcloth and water for you. she makes you lay down even though you assure her that you can take care of yourself, wiping away at your pussy and inner thighs. she gives you a kiss and then continues her task, and when she’s finished, she lays beside you and cuddles up to you, skin to skin.

“you did so good, pretty girl. don’t worry, you’re always gonna be my good little girl.”

[see-arcane]

My Criticism: the erotic bond of Thomas and Orlok and the romantic/sexual bond of Ellen and Anna deserved more focus. (But that's also my thoughts on the various Draculas). Happily surprised they gave some sexuality to the newlyweds it literally never happens with Dracula media

I think that for the amount of time and the focus of the story, Eggers fit in as much as he could without it overshadowing the main core of 1) Orlok targeting Ellen and 2) Thomas and Ellen being in love and headed for tragedy. And yes! Eggers lets these newlyweds be truly in love and hot for each other! It's like what we deserved with Jonathan and Mina for 127 years, very nearly! :')

SPOILERS BELOW

That said, I do think that short of a real kiss with Ellen and Anna, Eggers gave us a decent 'what-if' of what Mina and Lucy might have been like if they both made it to marriage (bar Harding not quite measuring up to Arthur Holmwood standards, loving husband and father though he is). They are both married young women now and Ellen is rooming under Anna's husband's roof. It'd be tricky to have anything properly raunchy go on, but we do at least get that scene of Ellen laying in bed with Anna!

Before the Orlok business happens. Augh.

As for Orlok and Thomas...oh, but there is a lot to unpack there.

To be clear, this is very much not Dracula and Jonathan's weird predatory thing. It is another, weirder, semi-callback to The Lighthouse kind of thing. At least in the vein that the brief homoerotic flints of interaction we get there--

The slow dance scene where the two men who hate each other almost share a kiss, only for the younger man to recoil in panic.

A scene of insults and accusation where the older man describes the younger as having eyes like a lady's.

--lean on braided elements of homoeroticism, homophobia, and violent/elder masculinity baring its teeth at gentler/younger masculinity via comparisons to women.

Or, to be frank, even as Orlok is bitter at Thomas being the man Ellen chose despite their 'covenant,' it isn't just the bitterness of, "She chose another man over me!" but, "She chose a weaker, younger, effeminate man over me!" Which paired perfectly (horribly) with his running theme of being a psychic rapist. Orlok is the more masculine man. Thomas is, in his eyes, the lesser, effete competition. Why, the boy may as well be a woman himself.

Cue Orlok taking a route with Thomas that we never see him take with any other man in the movie. He preys on Thomas in the exact same way he would eventually do to Ellen at the climax. The only dignity he leaves the young man with is that he does not strip him as he feeds--only Orlok is naked, crouched and feeding at Thomas' breast twice. The first time being the result of getting almost obscenely aroused--literally or hungrily--at the sight of Thomas' thumb bleeding. All we get to see there is Thomas' terror under sudden paralysis as Orlok closes in. And the next time we see Thomas is him, not on the chair where we last saw him, but sprawled on the floor.

On his stomach.

Dressed, true. But with his face and front down. Already bitten at the heart.

Then, in his last scenes with Orlok, we see him actively try to kill Orlok in his box. Orlok stops the attack, tracks him down to the locked room Thomas has hid in--a room in his own castle! which he could unlock!--and purposefully uses a trance to make Thomas open the door. Just as he trances Thomas into laying himself out on the bed, locked and afraid in his own body. Orlok falls on him, feeding again at Thomas' chest, loudly and deeply draining what sounds like a horrific amount of blood.

(There's a comment to be made about the reversal of taking in bodily fluids, but we'll skip that for now.)

In the midst of this, Thomas is treated to a vision of Ellen in Orlok's place. Seeing it, he looks almost docile. Welcoming.

Orlok, naked, drinks and drinks. And leaves him on the bed.

Instead of slaughtering him. He doesn't even call the wolves to him once he's finished to eat the leftovers.

Which I find strange, considering that in a future scene, Orlok muses aloud to Knock that Thomas yet lives. As if he's surprised. Did he have the wolves on a mental timer to come after Thomas by daylight? Or did he think that, despite Thomas' heart still miraculously beating, he had drained enough blood to assume the young man would die on his own?

Or.

Was the surprise not that Thomas was alive, but alive and human? Not the undead, like himself, like he planned to make Ellen?

It doesn't add up to have the wolves only appear by daylight to spook Thomas out of the window--if Orlok was so concerned about technically keeping his hands clean of murdering him and so keeping the covenant with Ellen technically not a thing of theft, he could have absolutely let the wolves in that night to finish the job and be sure Thomas was torn to pieces. Instead, Thomas is intact come sunup, the door left open to the wolves...

...who only come running and raging up to him once Thomas proves to still be alive and awake despite how he passed the night. Can't be undead if you aren't dead first. This, combined with how Thomas states later on that he still feels Orlok's shadow/hold on him, seems to imply that Orlok didn't want to just kill Thomas off. He seethes about Thomas so deeply that he would rather see the young man under his heel forever just as he means to keep Ellen under his thumb and mentally assaulted at every opportunity.

If Ellen is Orlok's prize for desire's sake, Thomas is Orlok's conquest made out of pride. 'Making a woman' of Ellen's chosen man. Hell, he puts the words in Ellen's mouth when he tugs a mental string in her to get them fighting. Despite Orlok only ever mentioning the technical truth of Thomas 'selling her for gold' (with a contract he could not read and assumed was for a commission and a completion of a house sale), Ellen somehow has the knowledge to accuse Thomas of 'falling into Orlok's arms'--when, in fact, Orlok mounted Thomas and did what he did.

...

......

.........

Which brings me to the grimmest point of this whole fucked up mess which I really truly hope is Not the Case.

Orlok had his puppeteer hands in both of the Hutters. He was obviously leaning heaviest on Ellen, but he had his grip on Thomas too. So I have to wonder.

How much of the sex scene between the Hutters was entirely their will?

What if Orlok, in full voyeur fashion, pulled even more strings to make that sudden feverish intimacy happen? Ellen says aloud that they will show him their love. Is it a show only Ellen wants them to put on? Or is it Orlok, once more violating his victims by proxy? Either way the shock-vision of Ellen weeping and vomiting blood cuts the mood immediately--however real or imagined it was--and both Hutters snap out of their haze to embrace.

No no no I am unclean

Nonsense I love you I love you

Something else for Orlok to watch. A little knife-twist from his face-to-face with Ellen--You cannot love--and fuel on the martyr fire for Ellen, who heard from Orlok that he would kill all she loves, including Thomas, if she refuses him--in another life, another threat: (If you make a sound I shall take him and dash his brains out before your very eyes.)--though the villain could have killed him a dozen times already. But she cannot take the gamble.

All of which is a very very long way of saying that while Orlok's main focus is definitely on Ellen, there are signs of another stranger hate-attraction with Thomas. The opponent he wants in full submission versus Ellen, the runaway bride to coerce into being his equal.

tl;dr: They're just not that into you, Orlok, let it go

[hmmarble]

HMMARBLEDESİGN - DRAGON+ (4)

Transforming your bathroom into a luxurious retreat doesn't have to be daunting, especially with the timeless elegance of black marble. The deep, rich tones of black marble not only exude sophistication but also create a striking contrast that can elevate any space. In this blog post, we will explore the allure of a black marble bathroom, highlighting how this dramatic feature can infuse modern elegance into your home.

Black Marble Bathroom

The black marble bathroom is a stunning choice for those looking to create a sophisticated and luxurious space. This bold design element can transform an ordinary bathroom into an exquisite sanctuary. The rich tones and unique veining of black marble bring an air of elegance and style that is both timeless and contemporary.

When incorporating black marble into your bathroom, consider options such as black marble countertops, vanity tops, and even accent walls. The contrast against lighter colors can create a striking and dramatic effect, making your space feel more expansive and well-defined.

One of the key benefits of a black marble bathroom is its versatility. It pairs beautifully with a variety of materials, such as brushed gold or chrome fixtures, and complements different color palettes, from soft whites to vibrant jewel tones. This adaptability allows homeowners to personalize their space while maintaining a cohesive look.

There are various finishes available for black marble, each offering a unique aesthetic. A polished finish provides a sleek, glossy surface that reflects light beautifully, while a honed finish delivers a more understated, matte look that can soften the overall appearance of the bathroom.

Lighting plays a crucial role in showcasing the beauty of a black marble bathroom. Consider installing ambient lighting to highlight the natural veins and texture of the black marble. Additionally, task lighting around mirrors can enhance visibility and add warmth to the space.

To add depth and interest, incorporate other design elements that create contrast and texture. For example, pairing black marble with wooden accents can create a warm and inviting atmosphere. Textiles such as plush towels and bath mats in lighter shades can also soften the overall look.

With its rich aesthetic and timeless appeal, a black marble bathroom is more than just a design choice; it’s an opportunity to create a luxurious retreat in your home. Whether you’re planning a complete renovation or simply looking to refresh your existing space, integrating black marble can elevate your bathroom to new heights.

Modern Marble Bathroom

When it comes to designing a modern marble bathroom, the emphasis is on clean lines, minimalistic features, and the striking appeal of marble. This luxurious stone, often associated with opulence, can elevate your bathroom space into a sanctuary of relaxation.

One of the defining characteristics of a modern marble bathroom is the color palette. While many opt for classic whites and creams, darker shades like black or gray marble create a bold statement. Black marble, with its rich depth and unique veining, can transform traditional notions of bathroom design, making it a chic and contemporary choice.

A key feature in a modern marble bathroom is the seamless integration of marble into various elements, from countertops to flooring. Large format tiles have become increasingly popular, creating a sense of space and continuity. Pairing these tiles with elegant fixtures and understated accessories enhances the overall aesthetic without detracting from the beauty of the marble.

Vanities in a modern marble bathroom often showcase the stone’s natural patterns, turning functional furniture into a visual centerpiece. Choosing sleek hardware and soft-close drawers can maintain a streamlined look, while integrated lighting adds warmth and sophistication.

For those seeking to add a touch of personality, consider incorporating wood elements or contrasting materials like glass. These choices balance the heaviness of marble with lightness, making the bathroom feel both inviting and serene.

Incorporating plants or greenery can breathe life into the cool, polished surfaces of a modern marble bathroom. Strategic placement of greenery not only adds color but also promotes a calming environment.

Lastly, don’t forget about the practicality of maintaining your modern marble bathroom. While marble is undeniably glamorous, it requires regular sealing and care to keep it in pristine condition. Choosing the right products for cleaning and maintenance will ensure your marble retains its beauty for years to come.

Bathroom Marble Design

When it comes to creating a luxurious and sophisticated space, bathroom marble design stands out as an exceptional choice. Marble is known for its timeless beauty, variety, and ability to elevate the overall aesthetic of any bathroom. In this section, we will explore some key elements and ideas related to bathroom marble design.

Choosing the Right Marble

One of the first steps in bathroom marble design is selecting the right type of marble. From classic white Carrara to striking black marquina, the options are abundant. Each type of marble comes with its unique veining and color variations, allowing you to match the marble to your personal style. Consider how different marbles will interact with your bathroom's lighting and the overall color scheme to create the desired atmosphere.

Incorporating Patterns

Another exciting aspect of bathroom marble design is the ability to incorporate patterns. Marble can be cut and laid out in various patterns like herringbone, checkerboard, or even geometric shapes. These designs can add depth and interest to your bathroom, making it feel more dynamic and stylish.

Combining with Other Materials

To enhance your bathroom marble design, consider combining marble with other materials. Pairing marble with warm woods, sleek metals, or even vibrant tiles can create an intriguing contrast and elevate the space further. This combination can help to soften the look of marble, making it feel more inviting and less formal.

Accent Features

Incorporating marble accent features like vanity tops, shower surrounds, or even marble sinks can transform a standard bathroom into a luxurious retreat. These elements become focal points in the design, drawing attention and admiration. For a truly unique touch, consider custom marble pieces that reflect your style.

Maintenance and Care

While the beauty of marble is undeniable, it's important to consider its maintenance. Proper care, including regular sealing and careful cleaning, will keep your bathroom marble design looking pristine. Avoid harsh chemicals that can damage the stone, and always use coasters or mats to prevent stains and scratches.

In summary, bathroom marble design offers a wealth of possibilities to create a stunning and elegant space. With the right choices and careful planning, you can achieve a bathroom that embodies luxury and style.

[slowlyoats]

The Lost Boys: What does their room in the cave look like?

Marko

- I think he would have a small little alcove up on the “second”level of the cave

- It’s very small and it attached to the big opening we’re his pigeons like to hang out

- When I say small, I mean SMALL

- Like he has to sit on his butt, and scout in

- He fits comfortably though

- He built little shelves in it so he can display his trinkets

- This is also we’re he stashes his art supplies

- Dwayne calls it Marko’s “drawing spot”

- Because every time he goes up their looking for Marko

- He is listening to his Walkman, and in a deep trance, drawing

- He doesn’t have any fancy sketch books so most of the time he draws on whatever he can find

- Like napkins

- Drift wood

- Concert flyers

- Card board

- He’s room is definitely a site to see

- It’s decorated with his drawings, feathers, pieces of bright colored fabrics, basically anything that he can find around the board walk that looks cool

Paul

- he really likes to find old album covers and hang them up on his wall

- He typically finds them from dumpster diving or his friend at the record store will give him the ones that are shipped to the store broken

- I think his room is a shallow spot, where his head barely misses the ceiling when he stands up

- He is the only boy that’s room is somewhat open to the elements

- There is a small hole that he can just about stick his fist through, that faces the ocean

- I think he also has a shoe box that he keeps concert flyers in

- But only the ones he has been to, and actually liked

- It’s like a little scrap book

Dwayne

- I envision it to be a lot like how Star’s was in the movie

- You have to walk down into it, kind of like those conversations pits from the 60s you see in old magazines

- Marko likes to call it “The Pit”

- It’s a decent size, and out of all the boys most resemble an actual room

- It’s EXTREMELY MESSY

- But not in a horder type of way, its in a, if he just took the time to organize and put stuff back for once then just leaving it on the floor the room wouldn’t look half bad, type of way

- He has books and mechanic magazines everywhere

- He has a tool box

- Does he use it though?

- Maybe if he could find it

- He has mason jars filled with various nuts, screws, and bolts.

- Just think “dad basement/garage”

- There is a alcove, hidden by large rock formation towards that back of his space

- The alcove contains a small, somewhat shallow ocean pool

- Dwayne is the only one that knows about it, and he wants to keep it that way

- Out of all the boys he seems to be the cleanest

- So I think he uses this piece of ocean as his own little bathing spot

David

- I think his room would be on the first floor of the cave

- I think it would be smaller then Dwayne’s, but bigger then Paul’s

- He can fit an old recliner, and a side table in there while still having a little space to lay down in the back if he felt like it

- There is a loose rock on the right side of the wall in his room

- This is we’re he keeps his emergency stash of cigarettes, and his journal

- *audible gasp* DAVID KEEPS A JOURNAL???

- Yes and no

- He definitely doesn’t keep it after he fills it up with his thoughts

- As we all know he is a little paranoid, so whenever he finishes a journal he burns it

- I think he also has a little hook he hammered into the wall so he can hang up his jacket

- There is a deep, wide, indent into the cave wall, above the back wall of his room

- He has a trunk there that contains some extra clothing he has scavenged and some items from his past

[nickistuffs]

Design Choices

Hi, I’m back with some inspiration! As a designer in product development, this photo really resonates with me.

Pairing: Harry x Designer Reader (curvy or plus size—whatever you feel works best! This is just my preference 😌)

Summary: Harry invites you to a Pleasing meeting.

Word Count: 874

Warnings: None. Just fluff 💗

Please enjoy! I’m just doing this for fun.

✨masterlist✨ read the rest of Harry x Designer Reader there ...

Today, Harry had a meeting for his cosmetics brand, Pleasing. While getting ready, he saw his girlfriend sitting at her desk, working on designs and 3D renders for various brands vying for her talent.

He’d always wanted to add Y/N to his team of designers or do a small collaboration. However, being the shy and offline person she is, Y/N mostly kept her work to her portfolio and artworks online, with little to no social media presence. She’d told him before that she didn’t want to be seen as the girl who got work because of her boyfriend—something Harry found ridiculous since he would’ve gladly welcomed her on the team if she’d asked.

After slipping on his socks, he tiptoed to her workspace, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and placed soft kisses on her head. Briefly, he watched her work on what appeared to be a floor plan for a coffee shop. An idea crossed his mind, one he hoped she’d be open to.

“Hey, baby. Are you busy today?”

“Uhmm, not really. I’m just finishing my files, and my meeting got moved to tomorrow. Why?” she replied while continuing to type up details and notes for her contractors.

“Well, if you’re done with that, would you like to join me in a meeting today?”

She quickly saved her file and closed her laptop, looking at Harry with curiosity.

“For… your next album?”

“No, silly! For Pleasing. We’re finalizing some packaging boxes and stickers for a new nail polish release this New Year.”

“Oh! Right, sorry. My mind’s been all over the place.”

“No worries, love. So, do you want to come?”

“Sure, but can you pack my stuff for me? I’ll just go change.”

“Go ahead. I’ll take care of it for you.”

Harry rummaged through her work bag, filled with her essentials: a pen case, notebooks, journals, sample swatches, three different types of measuring tools, and other knick-knacks she might need for meetings or site visits. Knowing her, inspiration—or a design mishap—could strike at any moment. He added her laptop and earphones to the bag just as she walked back into the room.

“Ready! Do you have my bag, babe?”

“Yup, everything’s secured. I’ll just put on my shoes, and we can go.” ...

As Harry drove them to Pleasing’s unofficial office, he broke the silence.

“Babe, thank you for coming with me today. I thought you’d say no and stay home.”

“Well, I know I’ve said I didn’t want to be part of the product development team, but I still want to support you. If going to this meeting means so much to you, I’ll gladly hop in when I’m free.”

At a red light, Harry grabbed her hand and kissed it gently. ...

When they arrived at the small office, Harry and Y/N were greeted warmly and offered coffee, pastries, and nuts. She placed her bag on the floor and settled onto the couch, her eyes immediately drawn to the sparkly, hot-pressed foils on the PR boxes inside a nearby cardboard box.

“You can touch them if you like,” said Harry’s head designer.

“Thank you. Harry, may I?”

“I know you’re dying to feel it, love. Don’t let me stop you.”

Harry smiled at her excitement as she examined the new products Pleasing had created. He silently observed her body language, sweating a little as he hoped nothing was out of place—knowing how detail-oriented she was.

“These are so nice. The feel is great. Do you have options where the box is fully foiled or mixed with matte finishes for texture variety?”

A sigh of relief escaped Harry’s lips as he saw her getting into her element.

“Yeah, we have all of that here,” the head designer replied. “Here are the inserts, the bottles, and other packaging we’ve printed, along with the initial samples, if you want to try them.”

They laid everything out on the table. Y/N immediately locked eyes with Harry.

“These are amazing! The supplier you got is really good. You have to tell me who they are!”

Harry chuckled at her enthusiasm.

“It’s a secret, love. I can’t reveal that to the competition. I might even ask the team to whip up an NDA before you leave.”

The three of them laughed at Harry’s joke, but soon the meeting shifted into a more serious tone. Work began in earnest, with Harry choosing his preferred designs, giving feedback, and discussing limitations and options with the team.

Meanwhile, Y/N started snapping photos of Harry looking serious, as well as top-down shots of the table and the stickers he was pointing to.

**“What do you think, love?” Harry asked.

“Sorry, I was distracted. Can you say that again, babe?”

“I asked if we should add another color to the collection, or if this is enough?”

“Well, is it in your budget? I thought you already finalized a color story. Adding another might confuse the supplier if it’s a last-minute change. I’d recommend saving it for your next release or an expansion of the range, maybe with a different collaborator.”

Harry nodded, impressed by her quick, thoughtful response. He felt a surge of pride, knowing he was in a relationship with someone as brilliant and passionate as she was. ... Thank you so much for reading! I have more in store and might write again soon. See you! 💗

[luxlightly]

Fragile

A fanfic of @personostient's OC Dr.Arachne in their recent comic

I said I desperately wanted to read more about him and they said "then write it yourself, scrub" (more or less) so here's this. I have now a multiple chapter story in my head for this but at least here's a very small (as of yet unnamed) Arachne trying to understand complex ideas like sympathy and compassion when he's only big enough to fit 2 brain cells in him and one is fully occupied with having OCD.

---

In retrospect, gnawing on the already weak supports of a load bearing cross beam was a bad idea vis-a-vis the structural integrity of the floor above but, in its defense, its grasp of architecture was somewhat lacking. 

Also, it had only done so to get at the termites within, who'd already done some pretty extensive damage to the whole area. 

Really, it had been inevitable.

Only a matter of time before someone or something fell straight through to the dark and dusty basement. 

Into the spider’s web. 

Well, straight through its web, tearing up hours of work and crushing a very delicious looking moth that the spider had been saving for later and sending the spider frantically scrambling away, dodging bits of debris.

It wasn't exactly a spider, but it wasn't exactly not a spider, either. Something closer to “the elements of spiders that instill fear”. All fangs, legs, eyes, and jittery movement. 

Not that it was instilling much fear at this size, though the exact nature of the size was nebulous at best. Somewhere between a rat, a golf ball, and a human heart, the shifting mass of jet black limbs and glowing red eyes would lose in a fight with the average house cat or particularly determined mouse. 

So a dead, fully grown human, delivered to its metaphorical doorstep, was a fortuitous turn of events, indeed. 

It could put so much of that mass to use, finally having enough to form some more complex systems, maybe even to venture out beyond the basement! 

The spider scurried out from its hiding place in the dark, excited but still cautious, and onto the chest of the human. The smell of blood was thick in the air. 

The spider had been trying to determine the best way of beginning to consume such a feast when some of its eyes made unexpected contact with another pair. 

The human blinked and the spider froze. 

Oh fuck. That rising and falling of the chest was breathing! That thing vertebrates did when they were alive! 

Stupid, stupid, stupid!

For a long moment, the two just stared at each other.

Then, the human raised a hand, reaching towards it, and the spider braced to be crushed. It squeezed all its eyes closed, but the pain didn't come. 

The hand instead ran two fingers softly over its body in a gentle, repetitive motion. 

“Hey…little buddy…” the human wheezed. “It's okay…I'm not--” the human paused to cough, specks of blood dotting his lips. “--not gonna hurt you. ‘M a doctor…Do…’do no harm’...”

The human’s eyes were glassy and its breathing seemed labored. 

The spider didn't know a whole lot about human anatomy, but it was pretty sure they needed their blood to stay almost entirely inside of them or it was detrimental to their health. The amount that surrounded the human and was currently leaking from a gash across his side was probably more than was supposed to be outside of him at any given time. 

The various pieces of wood and glass embedded in his flesh were probably also probably bad.

The spider stayed frozen in terror, tiny body trembling as the hand that was nearly as big as it was continued to run along its carapace.

“Shhh…” the human hushed, though the spider had made no sound. “ ‘s okay. Okay to be scared. I'm…heh…I'm a little scared myself…”

The spider’s venom was laughably weak at this size, barely enough to put a human under for a few minutes, but that would likely be all it took for his injuries to finish him off. 

It would be easy enough to strike out and bite him as he continued his odd pattern of stroking his hand across its body but, strangely…the spider found it didn't really want the motions to stop. 

It felt…nice.

Centimeter by centimeter, the spider's body relaxed, leaning into the touch, eventually pressing back into the human’s fingers.

The human let out a wet sounding chuckle.

“You’re a weird little thing, huh? I think…I think I may have lost a bit too much blood…”

His hand went still, settling against his chest and his eyes closed. His breathing continued, but it was growing weaker by the moment.

Well, that problem solved itself, it seemed. Now the only problem the spider faced was again trying to find a way to best consume a creature so much larger than itself.

Perhaps…perhaps it should wait until he was dead before trying to eat him. After all, he had not killed it, though it was easily within his power. Perhaps it was only fair that it not kill him, in return.

Though, technically it was sort of its fault for gnawing through the support beams, which would mean it had killed him. No more so than the termites had, though, certainly!

Fine. It would eat him then finish eating the termites as recompense and all would be good and balanced and correct.

The spider let out a frustrated chittering noise, pacing tiny circles around the human’s chest.

It was not all good and balanced and correct! It was bad and wobbly and wrong like rotten, termite eaten wood and it felt Bad! But why?

The human was full of holes now, too. The spider had gnawed holes in the wood. Maybe it could close these holes in the human and it would not be Bad anymore. Yes, then it would be balanced. Then this feeling of Wrong would settle.

And…maybe the human would continue his gentle repetitive touches again.

The spider crawled up to the human's face, where a small gash weeped blood. Trying to get the blood to go back inside seemed like it was likely a lost cause. Liquids hated going where they were supposed to and the spider hated it about them. The human would just have to find new blood on his own, once his stopped leaking.

Long appendages tipped with spinnerets extended up from the spider's mass, stretching fine silken stands between them.

Pressing against the human's skin, it tethered a strand above and below the very end of cut, then crossed the limbs, pulling the stands taut before anchoring the strands to the skin again, a fraction of a centimeter down the length of the cut, forming a tiny ‘x’.

It repeated the motion. The silk’s adhesive held strong. It repeated the motion. Then repeated it again.

And again and again and again.

Bit by bit, the skin pulled together over the wound in a surprisingly satisfying way and the spider’s limbs became a blur of movement, crossing over each other a dozen times a second.

The repetitive nature of the movement scratched some itch in it's mind oh so nicely. All balanced and mirrored and equal and Good.

It was almost disappointed when the wound was fully closed, the seam of tiny, gossamer stitches nearly invisible, as if the wound had never been.

Luckily, there were many more holes left to close.

It moved to another on his collar, stitching it up in only a few seconds, then pulled a shard of glass from his shoulder and sealed the wound there just as quickly.

Before the spider could move on to the next wound, the thrumming in the human’s chest, his heart’s pulsing movement, stuttered. It's rhythm grew ever weaker.

The spider didn't know all that much about how creatures of flesh and blood worked, but it knew that, when that pulse stopped, they did too, and that they needed blood to keep it going.

The gash across the human's side was leaking a lot of blood. It had to be closed soon or the human would almost certainly die.

The spider moved to the wound and started the same pattern of criss-crossed silk that it had closed the other's with. It got an inch or so down the length of the gash when the silk's glue gave way, the wound splitting back open.

The spider chittered, pensively.

The wound was too big and the blood flow from it too strong for the silk to stick to the skin tightly enough. It needed something more substantial.

Holding up a leg, it stretched the tip out to a nearly hair-thin strand.

It could spare just enough of its own body to hold the wound closed enough for the silk to seal it. It wouldn't take much.

But…sealing a wound held together by a piece of itself would mean sealing a piece of its body in the human's. What effect might that have on such a creature?

After all, its body didn't have to exist in one single piece. So what was really the difference between making a part of its body a part of the human's and making the human's body a part of its own?

But, without action, the human would die either way.

…

Surely, such a tiny piece of itself would do no harm…

The spider used another limb to pull the thin, jet black strand taut. Using the sharp tip of the strand, it pierced the flesh on one side of the wound, then the other, weaving itself back and forth through the human's skin, pulling the torn edges back together.

Once the gap was closed, the spider sealed it with silk, the same as the others.

Good and Balanced and Correct.

[crowttore]

Settling in - Dottore x reader

Notes: First meeting between Dottore and his new assistant from Fontaine. Reupload from my old blog. Feed this to AI or similar and I'm giving you Salmonella enteritidis. Tags: Dottore x reader, start of a slow slow burn, reader is not a good person. Minors DNI

It was rare that foreigners voluntarily joined the Fatui. Save for a background check conducted by people from The House, not much was done to discourage such an act. They had room for those who would serve their cause, and turning any prospective asset away was a mistake they would never make.

However… It was quite rare for someone to have such concise demands, and even less hesitation in presenting them.

Dottore glanced to the side, crimson eyes readily observing the figure moving along the shadows of his laboratory. It was frustrating, having to wear the mask in his sanctuary. Perhaps with time-

He was getting ahead of himself.

You'd wasted no time making yourself useful, clearly driven by something none of the recruiters had managed to discern. Introductions had been brief and you'd barely spoken a word since then.

He let out a small sigh, focus shifting back to the metal casing in his hand. Several elemental crystals were scattered atop the table. If only you'd stop clinging to the edges, he had enough concerns without shadows in his periphery.

At first it had been pleasant, his days mostly the same as before your arrival. After a fortnight it had begun nagging at his mind. You'd told him your name, previous occupation, and a vague reason for wanting to join. Nothing he hadn't already been informed of before you'd even stepped foot in his wing.

'Sensible' was the only word that came to mind, your presence anonymous enough that it didn't grate at his tightly strung nerves.

Shattering glass brought him out of his speculations, instinct dictating he examine his own workbench. With nothing remiss he turns to your corner, eyes briefly narrowing in frustration when he sees you wiping something up.

You hadn't even acknowledged the space he'd made one of the segments set up for you. Instead you'd crawled into a corner like a scared beast, doing work with your hands tied.

Hands clasped behind his back, Dottore approached where you were still working to clean whatever accident had happened. This was going to work. Your expected value far exceeded the trouble of giving a little encouragement.

"You can't work here"

"Because of a single mistake?"

He could easily peer over your shoulder, seeing you grip the wet rag a little tighter. There were remnants of various plants, vials of colorless reagents, and distillation equipment. The labels on the vials were a new addition, something he'd been meaning to delegate for a while.

"Lord Harbinger, with all due respect, expecting me to never mess up is ridiculous," you sounded tense, but not half as scared as previous personnel.

"The corner, mademoiselle. Is this how they do it at the Institute, cramped and inefficient?"

That made you pause, dropping the cloth and discarding your gloves with practiced ease, bare skin never touching the outside of the material.

"Finish what can't be moved as it is, we'll move you to the proper place afterwards," his voice carried finality, acquired through endless years of pulling strings.

A huff left your lips, but there was no complaining and you dutifully began corking vials. Not putting the gloves back on was bad practice, a fact you would've been aware of with the amount of training you'd allegedly undergone at Fontaine's Research Institute. Dottore crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyes focused on the way your delicate hands trembled.

Were you afraid? Properly afraid?

"Do you mind, Lord Harbinger?"

"Doctor," it stood to reason that he made it clear what title he preferred as early as possible, "and do be careful. I'd prefer if you lasted longer than the last"

His heels clicked against the stone floor, turning his body to look around while he waited. You'd taken over multiple tasks from various segments already, all of them routine work, freeing up time for the big projects. If this kept up he might actually-

"The table by the shelves?"

You had turned to him, the smile on your lips at odds with your eyes. Without answering he took the wooden crate holding the glassware and reagents, leaving you to gather messy papers and ragged notes. So that was a similarity, unfortunate that he couldn't have you organize his writing then.

"You've had a fortnight to settle in. That should have been more than plenty for you to grasp how things work here. And while you have done an admirable job," he dropped the crate onto the unoccupied workbench near his own, "you are expected to act for the benefit of the Fatui, not based on personal preference."

He could see the gears turning in your mind, your eyes fixed on the papers in your hands. Even while clenching them tightly, he could still see her fingers twitching.

"And work on steadying yourself. Your hands will be required in the future," Dottore ran a hand through his hair, watching in silence while you set the equipment up.

With a pleased hum, he noticed that you was spacing everything better this time around. Hopefully there would be no more preventable mishaps, and he would more easily be able to keep an eye on what occupied you.

Freedom to create and learn what you will. As long as expenditures were within reason, and orders from him prioritized of course. That would always be the desired way his personal laboratory operated.

"You're currently working on what? You began the day you arrived, highly unusual behavior compared to your predecessors. It must be important."

He saw the way you ran a finger tenderly along the glass, the way your shoulders rose a little with his inquiry.

"Death," your voice sounded hollow, something hauntingly familiar in how you said it, "It should be finished today. I'll compile everything for your perusal before the end of the week, Doctor."

Dottore felt his eyes widen a little behind the mask, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. It was a bold statement, her tone indicating it had been born of pure spite. In that case, he'd put it to excellent use.

Series Masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Dirty Work 5

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.

Characters: Loki

Note: Let's see if I make it through Monday.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

At Corissa’s insistence, and against your own reticence, you have a taste of nearly every course. The fiery red head gabs animatedly in her work, to her assistants and the servers, and even to you. You feel something very peculiar; you feel included.

That pleasant sensation is as fleeting as the night. The servers bring in the dishes, many untouched, and you clean them attentively, keeping the counters clear of clutter. Corissa mutters about the waste and has the leftovers scraped into containers, promising them to her hardworking staff. She even offers you one but you refuse, you’ve indulged enough. You suspect Mr. Laufeyson would be less than pleased to see you walking out with a to-go box.

You are not requested again to tend to the diners. Voices carry from down the hall and the front door opens and shuts between farewells. Amid the hue, you do not hear Mr. Laufeyson though you try not to listen intently.

Corissa and her staff depart with their work done and you’re left to clean up. It’s near midnight. You’re surprised at how long the gathering lasted and yet, you wouldn’t know what to expect. You’d never attended anything like that. You didn’t even go to your own high school graduation.

There’s a scuff and a shadow darken’s the edge of your vision. You lift your head to find Mr. Laufeyson crossing the threshold, his polished shoes clicking on the tile. You dip your head in acknowledgement and return to stacking the dishes neatly inside the cupboards.

“Do not forget the dining room. My guests proved to be animals,” he scoffs, “though, what use would you be if they didn’t leave you some work?”

You nod again. You close the cupboard door and move to the stemmed crystal. You open the glass cabinet that holds the various liquor vessels. You set each in tidy lines, following the pattern.

You wait for him to leave but he remains. Is he watching you or are you just paranoid? You clasp the door shut and face him, though you’re not intent on him. The dining room. You hope you might finish it quickly. You glance at the clock again.

“Do you recall what I told you at the beginning of the night?” He asks brusquely.

You gulp and part your lips, your words trapped in your chest.

“Speak,” he demands with a flippant flick of his fingers.

“Yes, I do, Mr. Laufeyson–”

“Not a look, not a word,” he retorts.

“Mr. Laufeyson, I didn’t–”

“The blond man. I saw your eyes stray,” he insists, “the worst thing you can ever do is lie to me.”

“I… I apologise, it wasn’t– I didn’t mean to–”

“Ah, enough,” he dismisses your protests, “this isn’t an argument. I am merely reminding you of the rules. I do hate to repeat myself.”

You seal your lips and put your chin down in deference. You made a mistake. You’re wrong, he’s right.

“Now you know. I expect it not to happen again,” he rebukes.

His sole squeaks on the floor as he spins and struts out. You look around, time to move on to the dining room. You tiptoe out and find the hallway empty. You creep down to the dining room and find it similarly abandoned.

You enter and begin your work. You wipe down the table and tidy little bits of food and forgotten napkins. You push in the chairs and remove a broken stem from one of the vases at the centre line of the table.

The clock ticks and heightens your impatience. You have to hurry if you’re going to catch the bus. If you don’t… you don’t know if you can budget a cab.

“There is another thing,” Mr. Laufeyson gives you a start as he appears through the archway, “something forgotten…”

You look at him with confusion stitched into your forehead. He reaches into his jacket and slips out a pinkish slip of paper. It’s folded into quarters with a curl in one corner. You recognise it immediately.

“I assume you didn’t mean to leave it on the floor,” he sneers as he comes closer, holding it between his index and middle fingers, “I almost tossed it but I did peruse it in case… Well, I don’t mean to pry…”

You take it and nearly thank him aloud. You look at the folded invoice and a cringe pinches your cheeks. You didn’t even realise you’d dropped it. You would prefer to forget about it but that would hardly void the debt.

“You look well,” he muses. You flinch; what does he mean? “I did note it was for the same date you were absent however.”

You tuck the invoice into your pocket and fix another chair. He lurks close as you try not to falter. He puts his hand on the next chair to stop you.

“You may speak. Humour my intrigue. You don’t appear very sick.”

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. It feels as if he’s making some joke you don’t understand. Your lips strain and you stare at his tie.

“My father had an emergency, Mr. Laufeyson. That is all. He is better now.”

“Ah, a loyal daughter,” he remarks, “it is almost endearing.”

You stand in a stalemate. Your eyes drift over to the clock and back to his slender tie. You’re almost done and you’ll have just enough time to get to the stop.

“I suppose you are eager,” he steps in between you and the clock, “to get home to your sick father.”

You clutch the cloth tight and scrunch your lips. Your stomach does somersaults. You want to beg him to let you finish so you can go home. So you’re not stranded but you already made yourself pathetic enough.

“I am not a man without empathy, I would not keep you long. However, I do wish to have a proper conversation,” he declares.

You nod and wring the cloth. You dare to peek at his face and find his attention on your hands. You still them and drop your eyes again. Is he going to fire you? Rather, tell the agency of your misdeeds?

“I would assume you rely on transit. I am in a rather bright mood after my little soiree so I feel of a mind to offer a favour. One which would allow us to converse,” he rolls the button of his jacket between his thumb and index, “I would drive you home and you would listen, yes?”

You nod and he shows his palm.

“Say it.”

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson. That is very kind.”

“Isn’t it?” He preens and swirls away again, “ten minutes should be sufficient for you to wrap up. I will be at the door.”

“Yes. Mr. Laufeyson.”

“Wonderful,” he strolls out, his unusual glee putting you on guard.

🧹

As promised, Mr. Laufeyson is waiting at the front door. You only realise after checking the back door. You don’t feel good about accepting an unearned favour but the last bus is well and gone.

He opens the door as he sees you enter the foyer. To your surprise, he holds it for you to pass through first. You suppose it's a habit. He is fond of etiquette.

He follows and directs you to a sleek black car in the drive. You wait patiently at the passenger door as he unlocks it and lowers himself into the driver’s seat. It’s only then that you get in, gently closing the door. You put your kit between your feet and click your seat belt into place.

He turns the ignition and the engine hums quietly. It runs so smoothly, you barely feel it. He backs up before steering around the arch of driveway and towards the gate. He reaches to hit a button on the small fob dangling by the rear view and the wider gates split for him to pass through.

You wait for him to begin. He must be basking in your anticipation. Less than eager for what comes next, it's more a needling anxiety. 

“So, let us get down to it,” he begins, one hand on the wheel. The roads are near desolate in the late hour. “I’ve a proposition for you.”

You wait and listen. You assume that’s the deal still. He chuckles and carries on.

“An arrangement convenient for both of us. You see,” he pauses, exhaling as he measures his words, “I am not fond of the agency. I’ve not been for some time, neither have I had the time to search for an alternative. 

“Details are irrelevant. My ex-wife enlisted them for a maid. Just as she employed the gardener and the cook. She might be gone but her handiwork remains, though a very big void as well,” he turns down the next street as you twiddle your fingers, “that is too say, she managed the house and without her, I find myself lacking. I’ve not even the chance to acquire a house manager, but now…”

He lets his suggestion dangle but you’re not quite sure you understand. You hate to presume. Hate to think more of yourself than you should.

“What I’m proposing is that you step into her shoes. In the manner of taking on that management. The gardener, the cook, general maintenance and the like,” he explains, “but of course, you would also keep to your existing tasks, keep the house orderly in all ways.”

You still your hands and stare at your lap. You don’t really believe it. He thinks you capable of all that? Based on what? Some mopping?

“You are rather adept at following orders,” he says, “and you are in need of money, yes?”

You hunch down in shame.

“I will pay more than the agency for I would not take a cut as they do. You will be compensated appropriately for your efforts,” he assures, “as they would lessen mine.”

You look over the dash and at the road ahead. Your father will be home soon, he might need more help, and yet, you most certainly need money. You still have over a month left on probation and even after, you’re not guaranteed full-time hours.

“There would be a starting bonus,” he intones, filling the silence, “fifteen hundred. As an incentive.”

Your eyes burn. That’s what the invoice reads in red. He’s taunting you now. He knows that you need it badly. 

“This offer stands until you leave this car,” he says firmly, “so you may think about it.”

You blanch and keep your eyes forward. You can think all you want but that won’t change anything. There is no other answer. Even if it makes you nervous, even if you find that house stifling, and him terrifying. None of it matters. You need that money as much as your father needs you.

“I accept, Mr. Laufeyson,” you murmur. “I will do my best.”

He hums, a triumphant note, “I expect nothing less.”

🧹

You’re greeted by an empty house. It was too late to even think of going to the hospital. You wouldn’t want to wake your father during his recovery, and besides, his dejection sticks in your head. He told you not to come back.

You go to bed but don’t sleep very much. It’s hard in the lonely house. You want to tell your father that you got a new job. That you’re going to be able to pay for his hospital bills and that you’ll make things better. You will, when he gets home.

What has you just as wakeless is Mr. Laufeyson. He said you could start tomorrow. You’re nervous about that. Your only experience is the last month and a half of cleaning. He might expect more than you can do. Worse, you might not be able to meet those expectations.

You toss and turn, sleeping a few hours just before your alarm. You have your tea and get dressed. You bring your kit, just in case, and head out to catch the bus. You don’t like being in the house alone so you’re all too happy to get out.

You walk the block and a half from the bus stop. You realise as you come to the iron gate that you don’t have the new code. You stand cluelessly, locked out and listless. You notice the small button by the metal speakerbox. Does it work?

You tap the bell and wait. Nothing. You even lean in to listen to the speaker. It’s entirely dead. You try again. Still, nothing.

You lean in and peer through the bars, like a prisoner. The front door opens and Mr. Laufeyson appears, a harried pace with a hint of agitation. He comes to the other side and looks out at you. His eyes scan you from head to toe. He opens the gate from within.

“In, in,” he demands curtly, “are you not supposed to make my life easier?”

You step in and he swings the door shut harshly. He huffs and swiftly outpaces you back towards the door. You hesitate. You never go in that way.

“Do not waste my time,” he orders without looking back.

You jog to catch up with him. You hop up the steps behind his lithe gait and trail him inside. He stops and points to the mat. You leave your shoes on it even as he keeps his own on.

“I’ve a list made up. That is sufficient, yes?”

You nod and he sighs. He’s already moving as you slipping in an effort to keep up.

“Speak,” he drawls.

“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson.”

“Very good,” he praises, a lilt of condescension dripping from his lips. “I trust you sent your resignation in. I would be happy to cut ties from that cursed agency at the soonest opportunity.”

You bite your lip. You didn’t even think of that. Your silence is telling.

“Add it to the list,” he says derisively.

[in1-nutshell]

You know what

I do want fearless Buddy and Megs to go to tfp.

I want one of those little portals to open up during poetry club and Buddy just to accept their fate and let the portal take them, Megatron is less accepting of getting dragged through said portal but he has no choice.

I want Team Prime to not even be surprised at this point, and Optimus is already trying to calm down Agent Fowler because WHY IS MEGATRON NOW IN OUR BASE!?

I want there to not even  be a few days of peace before everything hits the fan.  

The Decepticons have Team Prime on their back foot.  There's no other choice.  Time to send in their own Megs.

And for convenience I shall be referring to Mtmte as Megs and Tfp as Megatron.

Megatron's shock of getting punched by himself doesn't last long and the fight between the two is evenly matched.  But Megs is older, tired, weaker.  Megatron starts to get the advantage.  Megs is on his back, Megatron's fusion cannon aiming right at his spark.

And then Buddy comes along.

Yep, With all the autobots out, Megs running to punch himself in the face, and Ratchet manning the ground bridge controls, there was no one to keep an eye out for Buddy and Miko as they immediately ran through the ground bridge, and poor Jack and Raf following just to keep an eye on them.

Poor Buddy who spent the last few days talking up Megs.  “Are you kidding me, your Megatron looks like he's on space crack, my Megs would beat him no question.”

Poor Buddy who was so confident while watching the fight because their Megs is out now and he’s here to clean house.

Poor Buddy who immediately runs through the fighting to throw a rock at Megatron's leg and yell at him various cybertronian swears because of course that's the first thing Whirl taught them upon meeting them. 

And poor Buddy who immediately gets Megatron's fusion cannon pointed at them

But it doesn't hit Buddy.  No, the blast nearly digs through Meg's back as he shields he’s funny little human kid.

Luckily they get him back to base, maybe Bumblebee rammed into Megatrons fucking shins and they drag Meg’s body back through a ground bridge.

Cut to Megs waking up and Buddy immediately sprinting towards him because the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and they also can't stand to be near his limp body while waiting for him to wake up

“...he was on space bath salts… that fight didn't count.”

FEARLESS IS BACK!

I tweak some elements in the request a bit, hope that's okay when you read it. If not please let me know.

Hope you enjoy!

Fearless Buddy witnessing Megs get beaten by his counter part

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Slight Angst, Mention of injury but nothing graphic, Human reader

TFP/MTMTE

It’s a normal day in Megatron’s classroom.

Megatron had just finished his final class of the day and was looking forward to going back to his habsuite.

Fearless had other ideas.

They decided to come by and visit after the lectures were over.

Megatron didn’t want to see Fearless right now.

He had been running a bit of the Cybertronain equivalent of a cold and hadn’t gone to the med bay yet.

Not that he thought he needed to.

He could handle something like this, but he knew Buddy would want him to go to the med bay if they found out.

Then portal time.

Megatron is clawing at his desk, refusing to get sucked into the portal.

Fearless sighs and just goes limp as the portal began dragging them in.

“What are you doing?!”--Megatron

“I’ve stop trying to fight these things Megs, just let go it makes things so much easier when you land.”—Fearless

“No!”--Megatron

Megatron lets go of one servo and tries to reach for Fearless as they are dragged into the portal.

His grip falters and let’s go of the desk and starts screaming as he gets dragged into the portal.

Meanwhile, Fearless was just thinking which dimension they were going to end up today.

Meanwhile in the TFP universe…

The portal opens dropping Megatron on the ground unceremonialy and Fearless safely bounces to the floor.

Team Prime just looks at the pair surprised.

Fearless waves happily as their Megatron groans in pain.

“Hey guys! How’s it going?”--Fearless

Everyone is surprised to see Megs and Fearless back.

Optimus has to calm down June and Fowler over this Megs appearing inside the base.

It’s a happy reunion with Fearless.

Ratchet’s sixth sense is tingling seeing Megs being more withdrawal than normal.

A couple days later, Team Prime gets ambushed.

Megs is actually feeling worse than what he felt on the Lost Light and still refuses to get help.

He feels bad for wasting their resources and knows he needs to cover his tracks better, Fearless was catching on to him.

Megs volunteers to go out and help.

He leaves before Fearless can do anything.

Fearless spots Miko running to the groundbrigde.

“I did not miss that, Miko!”--Fearless

Fearless is now running behind Miko trying to stop her from entering the groundbrigde.

“Miko! Get back here!”--Fearless

“I am NOT going to miss this fight!”--Miko

“Miko just because I said my Megs could crush yours, doesn’t mean that you get to go off on your own and—GET BACK HERE BEFORE THE PORTAL CLOSES!”--Fearless

On the other end of the groundbrigde.

Fearless sighs tiredly while Miko chuckles a bit.

“C’mon! You can’t deny that your also curious on how this fight could go.”--Miko

“Miko lets just get you back to—”—Fearless

Fearless turns around to see Jack and Raf behind them.

“… The three of you stick to me because I swear to Primus if you run off again, the last thing you will see if my foot denting your sorry behinds.”—Fearless

“Bet the last soda in the fridge Megs beats our Megatron”—Miko

“Miko!”--Fearless

They are not expecting Megs to get beat.

It was a bad beating.

Sure, Megs got good hits in the beginning, but it was nothing compared to the hits Megatron was landing.

Fearless starts panicking when they notice his fatigue.

It was time to put their name into use.

Fearless grabs a bunch of rocks and sprints to Megs and stands in front of him and starts chucking the rocks left and right.

They run out of rocks and move to their trusty pocket blaster, courtesy of Brainstorm.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM YOU OVERGROWN TOASTER!”--Fearless

Megatron looks down at the fleshy who was landing some blasts at his frame.

“Insignificant worm! You dare try and hit me!?”--Megatron

Fearless starts moving away from Megs and tries to lure this Megatron away from him.

“OH, I DARE BUCKET HEAD! I HOPE YOUR PEDE GETS RUSTY FROM THE RAIN!”--Fearless

Fearless dodges several blasts from the fusion canon.

“I HOPE THAT YOU FALL OF THE NEMESIS AND HIT YOUR HELM! MAYBE THEN IT CAN COMPREHEND ALL THE THINGS YOU’VE DONE! AND IT CAN START WITH YOU PUTTING SPACE BATH SALTS IN YOUR SPARK CHAMBER!”--Fearless

Megs is terrified for Fearless as his counter part starts going after them.

Megatron also spots the kids and fires one shot before continuing to pursue the other pest.

Megs shields the kids with his body nearly crumbling down at the massive hole burning on his side.

Fearless screams in agony and rage making rapid fire with their blaster straight to Megatron’s face and wire sensitive areas.

Thanks to this distraction Bumblebee could get the drop on him going to the kneecaps and Optimus taking him down before he retreated like the coward he was.

Fearless is running back to Megs as he is being carried to the groundbridge.

Fearless get taken care of by June as they wait anxiously for the news.

They were so sure that Megs would beat this Megatron.

What happened out there?

Ratchet comes out of the med bay.

Fearless is on their feet.

“How is he Ratchet?”--Fearless

“He is stable, my counter part would need to do more extensive work in the long run though.”--Ratchet

Fearless looks relief but scrunches to confusion.

“He should have beaten him. It doesn’t make sense! Something happened to him when he went out and… and…”--Fearless

They hang their head a bit.

“That could be the exposure to the dark energon and the illness.”--Ratchet

“… Run me that again.”--Fearless

“Dark energon and the illness.”—Ratchet

“He was sick?!”—Fearless

“It’s a non-lethal sickness, most akin to a human ‘cold’.”--Ratchet

“… So, my Megs got his aft kick because the other Meagtron was on the space drug and he was sick...”--Fearless

“I would use different terms, but that is the gist of it.”--Ratchet

“… Thank you Ratchet, seriously.”--Fearless

“You’re taking this well.”--Miko

“Oh, I’m furious that he hid this from me, but that’s something he’s going to get when he can at least walk again. Then he is going to be thankful that I’m not a full grown Cybertronian.”--Fearless

Fearless feels sick to their stomach seeing him power down and still.

They try their best to keep themselves occupied with the kids and the others.

Fearless jokes around that the match didn’t count because their Megatron had enhancements and theirs was weakened by a sickness.

It was an unfair fight.

The moment Megs wakes up Fearless is once again sprinting to his side, climbing to the top of the med slab by themselves and to his chassis.

They cry a bit with relief when they see he is okay.

They were so going to snitch on him when they got back to the Lost Light.

Right on cue the portal opens up.

Megs is strong enough to walk a bit and goes to the portal with Fearless.

They say their thanks and goodbyes as the pair leave this universe.

In the Lost Light…

Megs lands on his chassis groaning in pain as Fearless lands beside him.

His biolight flickered dimly which caused Fearless to panic bad.

“HELP! HELP HE’S DYING! SOMEONE, ANYONE!!!”--Fearless

The doors to Swerve’s bust open as several bots come out to see Fearless cradling one of Megatron’s digits with tears threatening to spill.

“HELP HIM!”--Fearless

Whirl comes over and picks up Fearless as some other bots hurriedly carry Megatron to the med bay.

Fearless just watches his limp body get carried away and digs their face into their Amica’s neck cables stifling a sob.

Whirl can only gently stroke their back as he takes them back to their shared room for privacy.

Megatron has to stay in the med bay for a while thanks to the injuries and the complications the illness made on his frame.

Fearless made sure to tell everything to the crew once they calmed down.

Once Megs is given a clean bill of health and another scolding for keeping his sickness to himself, Fearless isn’t leaving his side for a while.

Magnus grants some grace to Fearless on their work.

Everyone gives the two some patience.

It wasn’t everyday that one of the most fearless organics on board got into a panicky state.

Thank goodness Rung has some room in his schedule because this was going to be a lengthy session for many bots.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Regarding the Canonicity of the Harry Potter Games

Like, I love Hogwarts Legacy. I played it through to completion 4 times (I played a few sections more than that). But even though I really liked the game, and many of its characters, and I enjoyed playing it, I can't help but not consider it truly canon in the same universe of the books. I consider it, like, an alternate timeline than the books; where some of the worldbuilding elements and characters are canon to the books, but otherwise the story and many aspects of it (such as some of the worldbuilding and characters in the game) are not canon for me since they outright contradict the books.

(I would love to talk about Hogwarts Mystery and why I don't take its story and various game elements as canon either, unfortunately, I got too frustrated with the energy mechanic and didn't even finish 3rd year in the game so I don't feel like I know it enough to make a comprehensive post).

The main reason is that there are things that outright contradict what's written in the books. Such as the placement of certain locations in the castle (the castle in HL is gorgeous though):

1. The potions classroom isn't located in the dungeons near the Slytherin common room.

2. The greenhouses are referenced as being outside the school and not connected to the castle the way they are in the game:

Harry, Ron, and Hermione left the castle together, crossed the vegetable patch, and made for the greenhouses, where the magical plants were kept.

(CoS, Ch6)

4. The Owlery is inside the school, in the West Tower, specifically, and not a walk-off from the school (that's also a movies issue):

Harry He then climbed out of the portrait hole, up through the silent castle (held up only briefly by Peeves, who tried to overturn a large vase on him halfway along the fourth-floor corridor), finally arriving at the Owlery, which was situated at the top of West Tower.

(GoF, Ch15)

5. Many classrooms and offices aren't located correctly. For example, the DADA and the Transfiguration office windows should face the Quidditch Pitch:

dreadful though his final detention with Umbridge was sure to be, he had a distant view of the Quidditch pitch from her window and might, with luck, be able to see something of Ron’s tryout

(OotP, Ch13)

“Hmm ...” Professor McGonagall stood up and stared out of the window at the Quidditch field, just visible through the rain. 

(PoA, Ch9)

6. The above is also a problem with the location of the Quidditch pitch which should be near the lake:

Harry walked slowly along the deserted corridor, peering out of windows as he went. He could see people messing around in the air over the Quidditch pitch and a couple of students swimming in the lake, accompanied by the giant squid.

(OotP, Ch38)

7. The library in the game is on the ground floor (or below, since there are staircases going down to the library) and the restricted section is even lower in a basement level below the library. In the books, the library is on the 3rd and 4th floors, and the restricted section, specifically, is located on the 4th floor.

8. Again, this issue is also in the movies, but the doors to the Great Hall should be located to the right of the Entrance Hall. The Entrance Hall is described in quite detail in the books actually:

The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys’ house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors. They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school must already be here — but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously. [...] Feeling oddly as though his legs had turned to lead, Harry got into line behind a boy with sandy hair, with Ron behind him, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall [Enterence Hall], and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

(PS, Ch7)

9. In general what's on each floor is incorrect. The one-eyed witch statue isn't on the third floor. The astronomy tower isn't the tallest tower (the headmaster's tower is taller). Myrtel's toilet should be near the DADA office on the second floor, not in the dungeons, etc.

10. You'd also notice in the game all the castle's windows are painted glass and you can't see outside through any of them. They are gorgeous, and it's definitely helpful for the sake of game performance, so I get why they did that, but in the books, it isn't so. Harry mentions looking out windows and seeing the grounds a lot.

(I would like to share the closest to canon map of Hogwarts I could make (which I made). It's an amalgamation of design elements from the movies, Hogwarts Legacy, and every quote I could find in the books regarding placements of various locations. Tumblr is just really bad with large high-resolution images 😭)

Then there are inaccurate world-building elements. (I'm not gonna count Basic-Cast and Levioso which are not real spells since they are clearly gameplay mechanics and aren't trying to be world-building accurate):

1. Horklumps are used in the Wiggenweld Potion in-game, even though Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them clearly states that Horklumps are useless as potion ingredients:

The Horklump is a favourite delicacy of gnomes but otherwise has no discernible use.

(Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them)

2. Matilda Weasley's existence makes no sense. By her red hair, Gareth Weasley's dialogue, and in-game letters, Matilda is stated to have been born a Weasley and didn't marry into the family. Hogwarts Legacy's art book confirms this. The reason this doesn't make sense is that Ginny Weasley is referred to as the first female born weasley in several generations.

Matilda is a professor who doesn't look very old in 1890, so she would've been born around 1,850s, let's say. Gareth is her brother's son, born in 1975-ish. In the game, a letter states Gareth has a sister, so that's zero generations with no female Weasleys. Septimus Weasley was born in the 1910s (his wife, Cederella, was born between 1915-1919). This makes him and his 6 older brothers, the next generation after Gareth, and the first generation no female Weasleys. Septimus is Arthur's father, making Arthur, his brothers, and his cousins the second generation without female Weasleys. And Arthur is Ginny's father. Two generations without female Weasleys wouldn't make Ginny the first female-born Weasley in several generations.

So, in the books' canon, Matilda and Gareth's younger sister, can't exist.

3. The entire Goblin Rebellion. Such a big, historical event would be remembered and referenced in the books the way other goblin rebellions and Grindelwald's war are mentioned. Not only that, but the ministry during the game has no reason to hide a goblin rebellion. It's a plot element in-game that makes no sense. It's not at all the same situation politically as in Harry's fifth year and the Ministry has no reason to cover it up (unless Rookwood is bribing someone, maybe?), so I don't get it at all.

Also, remember, Dumbledore starts Hogwarts in 1891, a year after the game. If this rebellion happened and the MC existed, Dumbledore would've likely known about it. A story like the MC's isn't just forgotten about over the course of less than the average wizard's lifetime. Not to mention the MC not being anywhere in canon or being referenced at all.

(what I'm saying is that the game should've chosen to take place further in the past and it would've solved a lot of continuity issues).

4. Ancient Magic. I know this is a game mechanic, but it's also a big part of the game's story — and it makes no sense with how we see magic in the HP books. When characters in the books refer to Ancient Magic, the kind of magic we see in the game is not what they are referring to. At all.

“ ‘Dragons are extremely difficult to slay, owing to the ancient magic that imbues their thick hides, which none but the most powerful spells can penetrate ...’ But Sirius said a simple one would do it. ...”

(GoF, Ch20)

Ancient Magic can refer to the natural magic of magical beings. The kind of magic that exists as part of nature and isn't wieldable. It's "ancient" since it's old and part of the natural world.

“But how to get at Harry Potter? For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy’s future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy’s protection as long as he is in his relations’ care. Not even I can touch him there. ... Then, of course, there was the Quidditch World Cup. ...

(GoF, Ch33)

“But I knew too where Voldemort was weak. And so I made my decision. You would be protected by an ancient magic of which he knows, which he despises, and which he has always, therefore, underestimated — to his cost. I am speaking, of course, of the fact that your mother died to save you. She gave you a lingering protection he never expected, a protection that flows in your veins to this day. I put my trust, therefore, in your mother’s blood. I delivered you to her sister, her only remaining relative.”

(OotP, Ch37)

It can also refer to magic any powerful enough witch or wizard could do that was mostly forgotten. Both Voldemort and Dumbledore refer to the blood wards Dumbledore set up after Lily's sacrifice as "Ancient Magic" and I'm certain Dumbledore doesn't have the same abilities the MC in HL has — because no one does. These abilities don't exist in the books.

The ward is referred to as ancient magic becouse that's what it is — a mostly forgotten spell from very long ago — not a different kind of magic. Just old.

“Secondly, the castle is a stronghold of ancient magic. Undoubtedly Voldemort had penetrated many more of its secrets than most of the students who pass through the place, but he may have felt that there were still mysteries to unravel, stores of magic to tap.

(HBP, Ch20)

This again, uses the term "ancient magic" to refer to old forgotten magic (such as the Room of Requirement or the moving stairs at Hogwarts). Hogwarts is referred to as a stronghold of ancient magic not because the founders were like the MC in HL, but because they were very powerful wizards using magic that has been mostly forgotten since then. Any magic using runes (like a pensive) would be considered "ancient magic" in the book's universe because it's old. That's literally all ancient magic in the books means. Either "old and mysterious magic" or "natural magic of the world". It is not something a select few wizards can see and wield or a different type of magic.

5. The little hamlets around Hogwarts. I get why they are there (so the game could promote itself as an open-world) but they don't make sense. In canon, we are repeatedly told there aren't many wizard-only settlements and Hogsmead is one of the only ones. These little wizard hamlets make zero sense. Like, the very small ones which are basically two farms are fine, I can see wizard family farms like these existing. What I can't see is a larger hamlet, like Upper Hogsfeild existing so close to Hogsmead. It would not exist.

Before the Statute of Secrecy, most wizards lived in muggle towns, and after it, they still mostly stayed in muggle towns and the few wizard-only ones. The amount of wizard-only hamlets around Hogwarts in the game is honestly ridiculous for the books' world-building.

Again, I love the game, I'm writing this because I decided to boot HL up again to run around Hogwarts, but the game is not really canon. So, for the sake of analysis, I often discount the various games for this reason. They contradict book canon, and book canon comes first. Anyone can obviously do whatever they want, I'm just explaining why I occasionally discard game evidence, which is when it contradicts the books.

(There are world-building elements in the HL I do like, though. Such as the Hufflepuff Dark wizard who married a disowned Black daughter, I consider them canon since they're fun and don't contradict canon either, so they're fine).

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE (see full series list here)

1993

The walls of the Hall have all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables have vanished; instead, there are about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people. Enchanted snowflakes fall gently through the air, melting before they hit the ground.

The champions enter the room, lead by Minerva, with their partners, and your eyes immediately fall on Harry, who looks like he's very focused on not tripping over his own feet. On his arm, is his fellow Gryffindor, Parvati Patil. She seems to be in her element, beaming out at everyone as they make their way up the Hall towards the top table where the judges are seated.

Cedric Diggory walks with Cho Chang, Fleur Delacour with Roger Davies, and to your shock, Viktor Krum with Hermione. She's wearing a beautiful, flowy, periwinkle blue dress and she's slicked her hair back into an elegant bun at the back of her head. She smiles nervously at you and you even notice that something's different about her smile — her front teeth are far smaller than before.

They reach the top table and you spy Percy Weasley sitting in the fifth chair at the table, looking very well-to-do as Harry takes a seat beside him.

"Why is Percy Weasley here?" You say to Minerva as she sits down beside you at your less important staff table. You wish you were up at that top table and could get a few digs in at Karkaroff, keep an eye on him, but you're stuck here instead with the rest of the teachers. "And where's Crouch?"

"He's ill, apparently," she replies, glancing up at the table. "Weasley has come as his representative."

"I can't say I'm unhappy that he's absent," you say quietly, as you pluck your menu from the table and give it a once-over. "He'd put a damper on the mood."

Minerva nods. "He is quite sour, isn't he?"

You're not quite sure what to do with your menu — there's no waiters and the plates are empty. Then, to your rescue, Dumbledore looks pointedly at his plate and says very loud and clear, "Pork chops!"

And pork chops appear. Getting the idea, everyone else starts placing their orders with their plates and food appears.

Hagrid sits beside you, gazing up at the top table before giving a small wave. Following his eye line, you see Madame Maxime return it and you can't help but smile at the exchange. How cute.

When everyone has finished eating, Dumbledore stands up and motions for everyone to do the same. With a wave of his hand, all the tables are pushed up against the walls, then he conjures up a stage along the right wall, various instruments set on it.

The Weird Sisters troop onto stage, dressed in black robes that are artfully ripped and tattered and torn, and pick up their instruments. The champions and their partners stand up, and you catch Harry tripping over his dress robes as he stands up, before walking out onto the floor with Parvati.

The champions dance for about half a minute before Dumbledore steps out onto the floor, taking Madame Maxime with him. He's so dwarfed by her that the top of his pointy hat is just barely brushing the tip of her chin.

You extend your hand out to Minerva, bowing lowly with the other behind your back. "Care for a dance?"

She places he hand on yours, smiling, leading you gracefully out onto the floor. By now, nearly everyone has joined in and is dancing together on the floor. Even Moody is doing an extremely clumsy two-step with Professor Vector, who is nervously avoiding his wooden leg. You raise your eyebrows at her as you pass and she gives a look that suggests she'd rather jump off the Astronomy Tower than continue dancing with Moody.

You have quite an enjoyable night, swapping partners every dance and dancing with nearly every teacher in the school, except for Snape, Moody, and Karkaroff, who you warily avoid like the plague — but who also seem to be avoiding the dance floor entirely.

Out of breath, you make your way outside for some fresh air, loitering beside the freshly trimmed rose bushes that are glittering with fairy lights. You bend down slightly and bring one rose to your nose, inhaling its sweet flowery scent, when you hear a voice that positively grates your ears.

"...don't see what there is to fuss about, Igor."

"Severus, you cannot pretend this isn't happening!" Comes Karkaroff's anxious and hushed voice. "It's been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can't deny it — "

"Then flee," Snape says curtly. "Flee — I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts."

Snape and Karkaroff come around the corner, Snape blasting rose bushes apart with his wand. He blasts the one next to you, and two students sprint away from out behind it.

"Ten points from Ravenclaw, Fawcett!" He snarls as the girl runs past him. "And ten from Hufflepuff, too, Stebbins!" His eyes land on you and he fails to hide his grimace. "And what are you doing out here?"

"Getting some fresh air," you respond simply, crossing your arms. "And what are you doing out here, Severus?"

"Ah, well, excuse me," Karkaroff says nervously, brushing past you with a polite smile. "I should get back to the party..."

You raise your eyebrows, turning back to Snape's scowling face expectantly.

"I am doing my job," he says snippily. "Perhaps you ought to do the same and watch the students inside, rather than coming outside for a little personal excursion."

"Is your head on a little excursion up your own — "

Madame Maxime suddenly rushes past you, eyes on the ground and looking very put-out. She passes you and disappears into the Entrance Hall.

" — arse?"

Snape's nostrils flare and for a second he looks like he's about to jinx you, but instead he just bristles past you, purposefully knocking your shoulder as he passes.

Later, when the Weird Sisters play their final song at midnight, several students make their way out of the Great Hall and you too follow in their footsteps out into the Entrance Hall. However, just as you've left the Great Hall, you spot Karkaroff skulking up the stairs, glancing around him furtively like he's got something to hide.

Intrigued, you follow him up the stairs, keeping a small gap between the two of you and looking away when he glances back at you. Then he veers off to the left into another corridor, walking fast, and just as you're about to follow him you hear muffled crying coming from the next flight of stairs.

You look up and there, sitting on one of the steps with her head in her knees, is Hermione, her body shaking with sobs. You should go make sure she's alright.

But this might be your chance to see what Karkaroff's up to! You look down the corridor at Karkaroff, your opportunity to keep up with him quickly slipping the more time you dwell on your decision.

You look back at Hermione, and her sobs take over your judgement and you hurry up the stairs towards her. You sit down on the step beside her, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Hermione?"

She lifts her head, eyes widening madly when she sees you. "P-professor!"

"Relax, Hermione," you say gently. "What happened?"

She bites her lip and looks away from you, drawing in a shaky breath and shaking her head. "N-nothing, nothing at all. It's s-silly, really."

You rub your hand along her arm soothingly. "Was it a boy?"

Her eyebrows raise slightly. "I told you it was silly."

You give her a sympathetic smile. "Been there. Teenage boys are stupid, Hermione. They were stupid when I was young and they're stupid now."

She sighs. "Do they ever stop being stupid?"

You give a light chuckle. "Eventually. Eventually they grow up and mature and start to actually use their heads."

You sigh, pulling her closer to you so she can rest her head on your shoulder as you continue to rub her arm soothingly. "You look beautiful tonight, Hermione. I can't believe how grown up you look."

"It's tiring," she says softly. "My hair took so long to do and it didn't even last the night." She gestures to her hair, which has become more dishevelled than it was at the start of the night, wisps of hair slipping out of the elegant knot and brushing her shoulders.

"I know. I have a million pins in mine and I haven't even got a date tonight!"

Hermione chuckles and you sigh, shaking your head. She yawns loudly, her eyelids drooping sleepily.

You pat her shoulder. "Alright, off to bed with you. I'm surprised you haven't collapsed yet with the amount of times I seen you out on the dance floor."

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

A few days before the first day of term after Christmas, you sit at the staff table during breakfast, watching patiently as the post arrives. A barn owl swoops through the air towards you, dropping a copy of The Daily Prophet on the table in front of you. You grab it, pulling the twine off of it and unfolding it to read the front page.

DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE

Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. In September of this year, he hired Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody’s well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures.

Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates.

An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being "very frightening."

"I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm," says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student. "We all hate Hagrid, but we’re just too scared to say anything."

Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed "Blast-Ended Skrewts," highly dangerous crosses between manticores and fire-crabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creature is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, however, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions. "I was just having some fun," he says, before hastily changing the subject.

As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not — as he has always pretended — a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown.

Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his reign of terror.

While many of the giants who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa’s son appears to have inherited her brutal nature.

In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought around You-Know-Who’s fall from power — thereby driving Hagrid’s own mother, like the rest of You-Know-Who’s supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Harry Potter is unaware of the unpleasant truth about his large friend — but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants.

You mouth drops open and you hurriedly nudge Minerva beside you, shoving the paper in her face. You watch as her eyes travel down the page and her frown deepens as she reads on.

"What a horrid woman," she spits, folding the paper disapprovingly and handing it back to you. "That explains why Hagrid isn't at breakfast this morning."

You glance down the table, noticing the clear absence of the large man.

"How dare she?" you snap, feeling your anger flare. "Come into this school just to spread such a thing...why, the next time I see her — "

"You'll hold your tongue," Minerva cuts across warningly, giving you a wary look. "You'll hold your tongue and you won't get involved."

"Why shouldn't I? Someone needs to put her in her place and — "

"You know why." She glances down the table, sighing. "If you get on that woman's bad side, she will pull up everything she can on you. Absolutely everything. You know well you will not survive that."

You bite your lip, sighing dejectedly. "You're right...I just — she deserves to be humbled."

Minerva hums in agreement. "I know, I know."

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

→ all kinds of interaction appreciated ♡

→⁠→ read chapter twenty-two here!

hello loves!!! I'm so so sorry that this chapter took forever to upload, and it's not even very long!! 😔 Just hit a bit of a slump and wasn't feeling it. Anyways, should be a bit more consistent from now on! I love you all so much and thank you for being so patient 🫶🫶

a big thank you to all my taglist loves:

@wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @hyperspeedo @carpe000diem @jennifer0305 @idkman5335

[bluegekk0]

Vyrm family home - Bottom floor pt. 2

Time to finish the tour of the bottom floor before I show the upper floor (which will most likely just be one post). This one will be long since I wanted to go more in-detail, as I wanted to include some subtle storytelling elements related to each character.

First, let's start with Holly's bedroom:

The room is cozy, but it's kept very tidy compared to the rest of the house. The only thing you will find on the floor, aside from the hide rug, are some pillows Holly sits on.

To the left of the door is Holly's desk, this is where they do most of their sewing and sketching (pretend the sketches on the wall aren't of human figures haha). They tend to find chairs fairly uncomfortable to sit on due to their height, which is why they use pillows for that purpose instead.

The two main themes of their room are plants and art. Since they enjoy gardening, they often move the former hobby inside to their little gardening stand. This is where they prepare all the potted plants you can find all over the house. A painting easel made by Vyrm is another feature of Holly's room, during bad weather you can find it here, but if it's sunny outside they will often move it to the garden area.

---

Next, there is Hornet's room:

A near complete 180 from the tidiness of Holly's room, Hornet seems to flourish in all the mess. It is by no means a gross room, it is simply used all the time. Books, pillows and hunting tools are all over the floor, often simply moved to the side to make way, which is why you'll sometimes find them piled up.

Unlike the rest of the family, Hornet's bed is elevated higher above the floor. She feels more comfortable sleeping above ground like this, likely a habit she got after surviving in the wilderness. Under the bed you'll find one of the two desks in Hornet's room, this one specifically used for reading and sewing. If you look closely at the bookshelf next to it, you may find a plushie. In this case it's a rabbit, but what I had in mind was that it was a stuffed toy Grimm gave her when she was a child, which she somehow managed to keep in one piece for all the years.

The corner to the right of the door is where she puts all her tools and bags for hunting, though you'll find some book piles there as well. On the wall are sketches of various flora of Hallownest, another hint at her hunter-gatherer profession.

To the other side, there is the second desk, the purpose of which becomes immediately clear. This is her work station, her job in Dirtmouth is to hunt and gather food. She displays some trophies on the wall, which is a hint towards another hobby of hers - she likes to make jewelry out of animal parts such as horns, claws or bones, which she then sells on the market for extra geo. The other weapons in the room aren't as in-universe friendly as I'd like, but I managed to find a neat little workaround for her needle (using a scaled up wand from the spellcaster pack haha)

And lastly there is a little corner which she likes to call her little unwinding zone. If she feels angry for whatever reason, she throws a bunch of small blades at the wall to calm down. On the other wall, she displays more weapons and tools, some made by herself, some made for her by Vyrm.

---

Lastly, it's time for Vyrm's workshop, and his shop.

The entrance to the workshop is in the living room, right by the door to the bathroom. It leads to a small corridor used mostly for storage. Behind the second door, you'll find Vyrm's workshop.

His main desk is right behind the corner to the left. This is where he does most of his planning and smaller tinkering work. On the wall next to it, there are sketches with clock-related blueprints, as well as little notes he writes down as reminders: special orders from customers, quick ideas he wants to expand on in his journal later, or simply reminders of specific dates and events so that he doesn't forget.

Nearby you will find his woodworking station. On top of working on clocks and similar mechanisms, he also dabbles in woodwork, mostly for specific projects, though in his spare time he also makes simple wooden figures to sell in his shop.

Next to it is another desk. This is where he experiments with prototypes for Holly's arm, and tries out designs for prosthetic limbs for anyone who may need them. If not that, then he simply uses it as extra work space in case his main desk ends up too messy to use.

Lastly, there is a little rest area right by the door to the shop, used primarily by Grimm who likes to visit Vyrm at the workshop in his free time, though Vyrm himself also uses it whenever he's studying literature related to his work (or to simply take a break if the shop is particularly busy that day)

Speaking of, the door leads right into Vyrm's Tinkerer Shop as he called it (name subject to change if I feel inspired). This is where Vyrm sells his creations and takes special orders from any bug who visits.

The counter is where he serves the customers, and displays some of his work that he can make for order (which he writes down in the book). This can range from wooden figures and clocks, to keys, prosthetic limb designs and even custom made blades. That said, if you look around the shop, it soon becomes clear that clocks and watches are his main specialization. His shop is fairly popular for that reason, as he was the one to introduce them to Hallownest after years of iteration and experiments. Bugs from all over the land and even outside of it visit his shop to buy his designs and request any repairs in case their mechanisms break, maybe even buying one of his other creations in the meantime.

---

Apologies for the extremely long post, I was considering splitting it into more parts, but I don't want to drag these posts for too long (especially since they're not as popular as my art)

Previous post (Bottom floor pt.1)

[shih-coulda-had-it]

Notebook #16! I technically finished this late, late into January 1. It's a Moleskine. Not sure how many pages are in here, considering I had to tear a few out...

[Left] Anachronism doodles! I love it when they switch costumes...

[Right] Doodles of my first full* D&D campaign. *Soon dropped as the GM admitted they weren't very into Norse mythology anymore. Now we're playing the equivalent of Monster Hunter!

//

Warframe gets its own full-size framing because it did, regrettably, eat up most of my attention in 2024. That's what moving on in the main questline does to you.

//

[Left] My Hero Academia might have ended in August, but the Torino-posting lives on!!

[Right] Assorted doodles from October.

//

[Left] My grandmother got into--I don't actually know if this counts as scrapbooking, but she IS VERY INVESTED in it, to the point of hoarding lots of stickers and such. I had to house-sit for her, and it was the day-after elections, so. Yeah.

[Right] It really took until issue 147 for me to perk up and go, "Oh, this is GOOD," with Claremont X-Men... The animal and the element... ah, and also, Amanda Sefton's little Nightcrawler doll was cute.

//

[Left] Snapshot of what I did for fun over winter break! I hung out with friends in Irvine, realized that I am getting too old to sleep on a thinly-carpeted floor, and indulged A LOT by buying myself a 2XL denim jacket + back to back Escape Room games. Man, those are fun.

[Right] This last page is just an example of what I was frantically filling the notebook with so I could start a new one for 2025. Everything--EVERYTHING was referenced off various tumblr posts.

[drconstellation]

Brazil and The Dream of Escape

I was delighted to find in the Xtras that the machine created to be used by Furfur to use to find out how many demons Shax could requisition for storming the bookshop was inspired by the movie Brazil. This is another nod to Monty Python member Terry Gilliam, who directed this film, and who almost directed the failed GO film in the 1990's.

I love this film. Always have. Yes, I was around when it came out in 1985. I'm that old. It's always been in my top 5 favourite films. And its totally relevant to Good Omens.

Brazil can be described as a dark dystopian story based on the novel 1984. It doesn't have a happy ending, but its funny, horrific, ludicrous, romantic and timelessly beautiful all at the same time. Its so iconic that when ever I see its influence in other productions its been unmistakable.

It stars Jonathan Pryce long before he was a James Bond villain or the head Sparrow in Game of Thrones, a comedic turn from Robert de Niro and a handful of other famous faces that you are bound to recognise, such Bob Hoskins, Ian Holm and Jim Broadbent.

Pryce, as Sam Lowry, lives in a world that is strictly controlled with paperwork that comes in multiple copies, where people are routinely arrested and tortured and a long running unexplained terrorist campaign sees bombs explode in the most random of places. Sam has dreams of a beautiful woman floating in the sky, and he is a sliver-armoured winged hero trying to rescue her. He eventually finds that she is real, and finds out her name through various means via his work and contacts. He tracks her down, but that is where it all starts to unravel as she is mixed up with an unfortunate case of mistaken identity.

Its easy to see the common themes and elements that run through the film with GO: the desire to run away and escape (that doesn't work,) a totalitarian authority controlling the masses, propaganda, piles of paperwork, an undercurrent of rebellion, torture and abuse, forbidden love between classes, a villain hidden in plain sight.

There is an art deco aesthetic to the film that also carries over to other films and shows it has influenced, and the busy work floor scene that stops on a dime to watch the tv show de jour while the boss isn't looking is one of the highlights of the film.

It was a reference of this that caught my eye in the Cohen Brothers modern fairy tale The Hudsucker Proxy, where they copied the busyness of the work floor for their mail room scenes, but also the art deco aesthetic. That's another film that is always in my top five films, and could go a round of comparisons with GO - its got time stoppage, an angel appearance and a near-godlike manipulator.

It also appears, surprisingly, in Star Wars: The Last Jedi. The casino at Canto Bight is Brazil inspired, in the way its introduced to us, its decor and the music. I know some people hate this film because of what they did to Luke, but I love it, the whole thing is just utterly gorgeous to look at.

And if you've watched any of Loki recently, since S2 of that show finished not long ago, you would also seen some influence from Brazil in the retro look.

I love the classic art deco style. my grandparents had an art deco house that I spent many of my childhood hours in. The style itself is a clean, unadorned look, and often is meant to give a look of movement, speed or strength. A classic example of this is the Bentley, of course, which comes from the height of the art deco era in the 1930's.

Hell is the other place we see the Brazil influence in GO, where is looks like it's constantly several decades behind the times, with overhead projectors and manual typewriters and odd looking not-quite steampunk contraptions.

Brazil is available to stream on Disney at the moment, if you'd like to take a look. I highly recommend it, its one of those influential films that once you know it, you see its long reach in the most unexpected places.

[eye-of-the-phoenix]

I want to like CRY so much

I just finished replaying it and I have so many opinions, as always. This game is unique for me in that I WANT to like it so badly but it just doesn't quite work. However, I stubbornly replay it and ponder what it could have been because I wish I liked it more. I especially feel this way because I live in New Orleans and its just so CLOSE to being good!

More thoughts under the cut.

PROS:

I actually think they did a great job with the setting. It's raining so hard that the power goes out and the streets are too flooded for cabs? There are weird creatures and bugs around every corner, some of which are messing with your belongings? The best food is from some sketchy stand served by some random Shorty person? Accurate, welcome to New Orleans. I can even forgive Bess for eating crawfish with the shells on with a spoon.

The characters are also good. Lamont is completely underutilized to where I'd never believe he was the culprit, but I can imagine running into all of these people throughout my day and it makes sense that they would all also interact with each other off-screen.

The core mystery is really interesting. It's the classic Nancy-gets-sucked-in-to-a-case-on-vacation scenario, but she really does stumble into the situation by accident in this one and has a personal stake because she gets attacked by the skeleton man. The progression is believable as she starts to unravel the skull mystery and discovers that Bruno's death was actually kind of suspicious.

My favorite ND trope, secret room/hideout/study revealed midgame, with a lot of things to look at and click on, is present.

CONS

The music is kind of a miss. It's not bad, but it should have been so much better. It has this boring CLK old-timey feel and they kind of missed the mark in my opinion. I think a more upbeat track with some brass, maybe something bluesy, maybe something modern would have added more variety.

The puzzles. THE PUZZLES ARE SO TEDIOUS. I hate that we find this book Bruno wrote and it's just a walkthrough to getting a bunch of eyeballs through various boring puzzles for the sake of padding the game. I use a walkthrough for like half of this game every time because I don't find the puzzles fun. My least favorites are the sneeze contraption because there is ZERO confirmation as to whether you're on the right track when you do it, and the tombstone pun puzzle because walking back and forth around the cemetery is SO TEDIOUS and it has zero replay value.

Bruno's house doesn't make sense because it's fairly spacious and kept up on the bottom story and the top floor that we can access is just two horrible moldy rooms. Bruno, you dropped dead from breathing in black mold in your own house, not a heart attack. Trust me when I say I know it's humid and wet here, but there's just no reason for the upstairs to be that uninhabitable indoors.

On a related note, I wish there was more to explore, and no, the cemetery doesn't count. There should be more rooms for Nancy to snoop through (where is Henry sleeping?) and like one more place for Bess to go. Or more things to do and click on in Zeke's aside from just looking at that one box a million times. Or the option to poke around Renee's table when she's away. NOT nearly enough snooping for me.

It's so dark. It's too dark. It could have been like 10% lighter or had a partial daytime element so that I could actually see what I was doing even a tiny bit.