#based on mag 29

[archivistofmusic]

Jhariah is releasing an album tomorrow (4/19) and now I cannot stop thinking about his music. In particular, Bad Luck!

Thank you, Dear Audience Member, for feeding The Beholding and Our Archive with Your request. We highly appreciate it.

This song is of The End.

You were definitely about to die. You know that. You didn't expect a game of roulette deciding whether what You knew was going to happen to You would happen or not. It's terrifying, one bit of bad luck deciding Your fate, but You've never lost a game before. It's odd to be playing a game of roulette against the bony figure in front of You, Your blood dripping on to the ground, but You aren't losing. In fact, You win. "Bad luck", the figure says, chuckling as it turns from the hooded omen of death to a rather normal looking woman. You then realize what's happening as Your skin begins to fall away. She's right. That was bad luck.

[jonsimsandcats]

STILL GOING STRONG: ANNOUNCING JON SIMS AND CATS DAY 2024!

Why?  Because Jon with cats is the ultimate expression of fluff and happiness in the face of horror and tragedy

When?  April 29 - The canonical date we got to hear Jon hanging out with the Admiral in MAG 93.

What? Fanart or fanfic featuring Jon and any cat(s)!  It could be the Admiral, it could be a scraggly alley cat behind the Institute Jon is slowly earning the trust of, it could be a mother cat and litter of kittens he and Martin found in the shed by the Scotland safehouse.

Please check out our FAQ post (app post link ||| desktop page link) for more details!

How?  Post to the #JonSimsandCats2024 tag on tumblr, and/or @ us so we can find your post.  

We also have an ao3 Collection! Jon_Sims_and_Cats.  Please check our FAQ for detailed instructions on how to submit fics to the collection.  We are accepting both old and new works!

See you on April 29th!!

Based on this meme:

[jadewolf22]

Welcome to the Pack: Chapter 1

Summary: Zombie apocalypse AU with Gwendoline Christie’s characters x fem!reader x OC Character (Beth) Featuring: Phasma, Brienne, Larissa, Gwen (in Fabric), Lyme (Hunger Games), Jane, Jan, & Lady Jane (The Darkest Minds) with mentions of Miranda and Anna (Welcome to Marwen) based off of this post by @rippersz

TW: Apocalyptic world (?), OC is hit by vehicle, strong language, mentions of death/killing, mentions of PTSD/Trauma, implications of smut, implications of poly-amorous hierarchy/ poly-amorous relationships involving nine people, wolf pack-like environment (reader is referred to as “Alpha”), ext…

A/n: I apologize for the amount of Russian and French in here. I have Russian heritage and wanted to pay a little tribute to that here (ended up being a lot more than a little) and also just felt like it would be a nice little tribute to some of the people on here who aren’t native English speakers. I hope to use more languages in other fics for this same purpose. Reader is American but was taught fluent Russian by a close friend of hers.

Word Count: 8,073

No one truly knows where the virus came from. Some say the Chinese created it, others the Russians, still others claim that it wasn’t created at all but rather an effect of global warming or some kind of solar flare. All anyone could truly agree on was that it was dangerous and deadly. The Serix Virus, as scientists later called it, was a physically transmitted disease that transformed the infected into zombie-like creatures that were unable to feel pain with half-decayed, green skin and bloodshot, yellow eyes; you could shoot one and it wouldn’t go down until a bullet found its head. 

Eurasia fell victim to it in the first month, with Africa and Australia not far behind. Three months later South America and Mexico followed. The survivors came flooding to North America, hoping for sanctuary, but none was received. Not even a month later the first cases were reported in North America and the rest of the world went to hell. People scrambled, turning on one another like gladiators in an arena. Fear took over and humanity crumbled, all in less than a year. Now, nearly three years later, the world remains black and dead. The “creatures” outnumber the human race twenty to one, if not more. They travel in packs just like most of the survivors-at least the survivors who were actually smart-shuffling through the remains of towns and cities, searching for their next meals of sweet human flesh; all too eager to taste blood in their mouths and skin in their teeth. To feast on people like Beth. 

Beth was a small town woman of 29 from Luray, Virginia and the lone survivor of her hometown. Everyone, her friends, her family, were gone, having either been eaten or transfigured and she was, permanently, on the run. With no weapons other than a little glock with only one full mag left and almost no remaining food Beth knew her time was almost up. She was no survivalist; she had no impressive background or knew any kind of self defense other than her fairly good aim, which would do nothing to save her when her mag ran empty. With her hope fading as the days went by, Beth moved to camp beside a road, her last chance to find salvation-to get help. 

She sat there on the side of the road for days, watching helplessly as the sun began to set at the end of her fourth day there and there was still no sign of help. Beth was about to give up and move on when something-a low rumble in the distance-caught her attention. She stood up and turned towards the sound, walking towards the curve in the road from where the noise was coming. It grew louder-the steady roar of a motor-and Beth’s heart leapt. She ran towards the curve, hoping to see the vehicle as it approached and catch the attention of its driver, but it was closer than she’d thought. 

A large black blur came speeding around the corner, clipping Beth’s right side and sending her flying backwards across the road. Beth screamed as pain radiated through her. Her arm was on fire, her head throbbed, the world was spinning, and her legs ached. She didn’t dare move for fear that something had been broken. 

Beth jumped a little when she heard car doors open and voices shouting at each other from inside the vehicle,

“-Are you out of your goddamn mind-?!”

“-Just leave her-!”

“-Not gonna leave her when it’s my fault! Now get your ass’s out there and help me!” 

Footsteps came running towards Beth, two blurry figures kneeling beside her. She couldn’t see much but well enough to know that they were both pale, one with long black hair, the other with short blonde hair. Together they lifted her, Beth screaming in pain as her body protested the movement. They carried her up into the vehicle-a black mini bus, and laid her down across the seats, which had been turned to create two long benches along either side of the bus, leaving a wide space between them for boxes of supplies. 

“Let’s go, let’s go!” a third person growled from the front of the bus as the other two took their seats, one person beside Beth and the other on the bench across from her.

Beth screamed as the bus jolted forward, grabbing hold of her arm as she began to slip in and out of consciousness from the pain. 

“Gwen, you get to explain this to the Alpha when we get back,” the voice from the front of the bus growled. It was deep and cold, mildly monotone with a clipped English accent and a slightly rough edge to it. Beth couldn’t see its owner but could guess that whoever it was was not someone to fuck around with, “She’s made it clear that outsider’s aren’t welcome-”

“You know what, Phasma, foutre en l'air! I didn’t ask for your damn opinion!” another voice, this one softer, more melodic, almost haunty with a soft English edge to it, snapped, a low growl tearing from the throat of its owner, “I’m sure she’ll understand my reasoning-”

“Not fucking likely,” the deeper voice grumbled as the vehicle shook and swayed, causing Beth to whimper every other minute, “Last time one of us brought someone back, Alpha turned him into crawler food real quick.” 

Crawler? Beth had heard the creatures called many things; flesh-eaters, zombies, the undead, but never Crawlers. The term was fitting, though. They did move at a crawling pace until they smelled food. 

“Last time we brought someone back, it was a man,” the softer voice countered, sounding annoyed, “Alpha made it clear no men were permitted in the camp, she’s had no problem bringing in women. What about Miran-?”

“Enough Gwen, you made your point.” a third voice cut in, a commanding edge to their tone. This voice was quiet, crisp, and rather gritty. There were hints of an accent to it, but Beth could not place where exactly it was from- somewhere in Europe, if she had to guess, based on its resemblance to the other two, “This is not our mess to deal with. When we get home we’ll hand her over to Jane and Gwen will explain what happened to Alpha. If she’s lucky, the Alpha will let her stay.” 

The other two grumbled in agreement, silence taking over the vehicle, allowing Beth to fully succumb to the hold of sleep. When she faded back to a semi consciousness, Beth was no longer in the bus but instead lying on some kind of cot, listening to a rather heated discussion between a large group of people,

“-Why would you bring her here?! We barely have enough food to go around as it is-!”

“Don’t try to pull one of those again. We all know there’s enough food here to last us years-!”

“That’s a rough estimate-!”

“It doesn’t matter if we have enough food or not! They’re injured, which makes them nothing but a hindrance to us! We should have left them where we found them-!”

“Not everyone here is as much of a hardass as you are, Phasma!! Forgive us for trying to have a little empathy-”

“Empathy isn’t going to help us survive!”

“Alright, доста́точно!!” Silence fell immediately. Beth didn’t know what the word ‘dostátočno’ meant, but it was clear that the others did, “That’s enough, all of you… While I appreciate the input, the decision is mine to make. Gwen… I want you to stay with her until she wakes up. When she does have Jane give her a quick lookover then bring her to me. We can figure out what to do from there… Everyone else просто позвольте этому быть. It’s not the end of the world-”

“No. That’s already happened…”

“Phasma, I don’t wanna hear another word out of you, Вы меня понимаете??!”

“... Yes, Alpha…”

“Thank you. Now, все возвращаются на работу…Phasma, Bri, I want that hole in the wall patched up by sundown.”

“We’re doing what we can, but there’s not enough materials to fortify it completely.”

“Then we’ll make another run, tomorrow. We cannot stand to let that wall have gaps in it. It’s too dangerous to-”

The rest of whatever the person had been saying faded away as Beth slipped back under sleep’s sweet spell. The second time she woke, Beth was fully conscious, opening her eyes for the first time in what felt like days. She was in some kind of large, stone room with high, intricately designed ceilings lying on what seemed to be an old-timey hospital bed. Her right arm was in a sling, both of her legs were wrapped in compression bandages from the knees down, and there was a thick gauze wrapping around her hairline. Every part of Beth’s body felt stiff, her broken arm felt full of pins and needles, and her head throbbed in time with her heartbeat. 

“It’s about time you woke up, petite souris,” came a voice to Beth’s left, causing her to jump. 

Beth looked over to see who the voice belonged to, and found her breath taken by the beauty across from her. The woman was tall and incredibly pale, possessing a slender yet shapely figure, with graceful curves and a lustrous cascade of dyed black waves that fell in loose tendrils around her shoulders, framing her face like a dark halo. Her hair had a glossy sheen that caught the light streaming from the nearby windows, imbuing her with an almost supernatural radiance and her lips were full and painted with a deep, velvety shade of red. Steel blue eyes watched Beth closely, framed by thick lines of black eyeliner. She wore a fitted shirt with a black and white checkered pattern and with sheer, flared sleeves as well as black leather pants, a black choker and black, knee-high combat boots. There were two Ruger LCP’s holstered in a belt at her hips and an N4 short barreled rifle resting in her lap, her finger lying lazily over the trigger. 

“Where am I?” Beth asked, wincing as she fought her way up to a sitting position.

“Home, for now, petite souris.” The woman purred in French and Beth recognized her soft, melodic, almost haunty voice with its soft English edge. She was one of the women from the bus, “Unless the Alpha decides otherwise.”

“The Alpha?” Beth repeated, her brows furrowing in confusion. What kind of fucked up cult had she gotten herself into? “Who the fuck is The Alpha?”

“She’s our leader,” the woman explained, her voice hardening slightly at Beth’s confused, almost humored tone, “Our chef de file. The one who keeps us safe from those things crawling around outside… If you’re going to stay with us, you will need to learn to respect her, petite souris. Or she’ll throw you to the crawlers without a second glance.”

“Right… How long have I been here?” 

“About a day-”

“Gwen, you were supposed to come and get me when she woke!”

Beth and the woman-Gwen, jumped in surprise, turning to see another woman walking their way. This woman was about the same height as Gwen, Beth assumed, if not half an inch or so taller, with soft alabaster skin, and a mane of natural raven hair pinned up into some sort of plaited crown around her head. She had a wiry, haunting figure with a regal bearing about her and a rigid posture, conveying an air of authority and severity. Her angular jawline and high cheekbones contributed to that sense of severity, while her piercing sky blue eyes seemed to scrutinize everything with an unwavering gaze. The woman’s face was free of makeup, but by far no less beautiful than Gwen’s, with a small scar adorning her upper lip; something she must have sustained before the virus. She was dressed in a black linen dress that brushed against her mid-thigh with tight sleeves, accessorized with a black and silver corset as well as black leggings and black knee-high boots. Fitting for a post-apocalyptic world yet still fashionable.

“Ouais, peu importe, salope.” Gwen muttered under her breath, giving the second woman a dark look, “She just woke up, Jane. Give me a little slack.”

“Alpha’s orders.” was all the other woman “Jane” responded, her voice cold with a cutting edge to it and a heavy English accent, turning her attention to Beth, “Consider yourself one lucky woman. It’s a rare thing for someone to be hit by a bus and walk away with only a broken arm, a minor laceration, and a few bruises.”

“Tell that to my aching joints.” Beth grumbled. 

“Would you rather I say it to your corpse?” Jane asked, her tone anything but sarcastic. Clearly she was a ‘no-nonsense’ type of woman, “Up! I need to see you move.” 

Groaning internally, Beth swung her legs off the cot and planted her feet firmly on the cold floor, hissing as her joints protested against her movements. She could feel both pairs of eyes on her, sweat gathering at the base of her neck as Beth pushed off the bed with her good arm, standing on wobbly legs. Jane had her walking back and forth along the edge of the bed for several minutes before having Beth try a few stretches that would, hopefully, help to relax the muscles in her legs. 

“That’s as good as you’re going to get for now,” Jane said after a time, rewrapping Beth’s legs after inspecting the swelling, “I’m sure the Alpha’s getting impatient. She’s up on the balcony taking a smoke.” she addressed to Gwen, an indifferent look in her light, sharp eyes.

“Think you can handle stairs, petite souris?” Gwen asked, directing her attention at Beth and ignoring Jane as the imposing figure walked away.

“Do I have much of a choice?” Beth returned. Gwen shrugged, turning on her heel and heading out after Jane with Beth hobbling along behind her. 

Beth couldn’t help but look around in awe as she followed Gwen. They were in some kind of gothic mansion, with tall stone walls and ceilings decorated with intricate patterns, statues and paintings, as well as mahogany accents in the doors and stairway railings. Clearly, this place had been some kind of retreat or something for those who basked in wealth. Everything was well constructed and detailed, too nice for something people of a lower class would have had the privilege of seeing. 

With a little help from Gwen, Beth managed to make it up to the second floor of the building, hoping and praying that “the Alpha” was not on any of the upper floors. There was no way her legs were going to be able to make it up another flight. Relief filled Beth when Gwen began to lead her down a long hallway, away from the stairs. They passed many rooms, most of which were empty, but as they walked past one of the rooms on the far end of the hall, Beth caught a glimpse of a woman standing over a table inside but didn’t have time for a proper look before Gwen drew her attention away. 

“She’ll be in here.” Gwen said, placing her hand on the doorknob of a large mahogany door at the very end of the hall. There was a golden plaque nailed to it which read “Principal Weems”. Apparently, this place had been some kind of school, “Whatever you do, petite souris, don’t speak unless you’re spoken to. And, if you want to have any chance of staying or staying alive, be respectful. If there’s one thing Alpha can’t stand, it’s someone who can’t respect their superiors, comprendre?”

Beth nodded, able to loosely translate the french word. The corner of Gwen’s lips twitched upward in a light smirk before her face went void of expression and she opened the door, beaconing Beth to follow her inside. The room was massive, with well used leather furniture and a large mahogany desk in front of a set of open french doors which led out to a spacious balcony. There was a large marble fireplace to the left of the doorway, carved to look like… medusa? At first the room smelled faintly of wine and must, and then a gentle breeze blew the scent of cigar smoke in through the open balcony doors, drawing Beth’s attention to the figure leaning against the stone railing of the balcony, facing in towards the room; You. 

Beth didn’t know what she’d expected from someone who called themselves “the Alpha” but whatever it was was not what you were. When she and Gwen reached you and you rose to your full height you towerd over both of them like a fucking skyscraper with a broad, maculine body complete with soft ivory skin, thick meaty hands, prominent veins, and muscles that might as well have been chisled from stone. Short red hair cut in a 90’s bob framed a sharply defined, oval face allowing your deep green eyes with their frightful and unnerving gaze to stand to attention. You wore a loose-fitting bronze t-shirt tucked into black jeans decorated with custom-sewn pockets all down the legs with a brown and black flannel tied around your waist, a gold watch on your wrist glinted off the dying sunlight, and black, knee-high combat boots similar to Gwen’s adorned your feet; though yours had to be at least three sizes bigger. There were two Glock 19’s in a holster around your waist, a semi-auto .22LR slung across your back, and a knife as long as Beth’s forearm in a vertical sheath across the back of your holster; the many pockets of your jeans bulging with mags for the three guns.

“Give us a moment, would you малыш,” you addressed to Gwen, taking a long drag from the joint between your fingers, continuing to speak as you released the smoke from your lips, your voice silky yet harsh with a tough, demanding and authoritative tone that matched the rest of your persona perfectly, “Why don’t you go see if you can help Jan with the mending? I’m sure she could use a second pair of hands. If not, tell Jane I told you to help her with supper.” 

Gwen gave a small nod, turning and walking away without so much as a glance in Beth’s direction. Beth had caught the Russian word for ‘baby’ and realized that it was you who had been speaking the language earlier despite having a flawless American accent whenever you weren’t using Russian dialect. 

“So, маленькая полевая мышь, I hear one of my girls hit you with the bus?” you spoke softly, eyeing Beth like someone would a confused child, “Tell me… why should I let you stay, hmm? What can you offer us?” 

“I…” Beth paused, unsure how best to respond. She didn’t know what words would save her life and what words would end it, “I-I’m a fair shooter. I can hit a perfect bullseye four of five times-”

You chuckled, drawing her up short, “маленькая полевая мышь, I have four women who can hit a bullseye five times out of five shots. What need would I have of your skill when I already have others who are better at it?” 

“I’m a forager.” she tried again, “I know what plants around here are safest to eat, which ones can be used as medicine, and which ones can end a life-”

Again, you cut her off, “And I have a woman who has a master’s degree in medicine and herbology.” 

Damn it. 

“I…” Beth was defeated. Shooting and foraging were her only helpful skills and you were right. What need would you have of her if there were already those who could do it better? “Those are the only things I can offer you…”

“Poor маленькая полевая мышь,” you purred with a small smile on your lips. You seemed to be enjoying watching Beth as she began to panic, “If you have nothing to offer me, why should I let you stay, hmm?” 

“Please?!” she begged, ready to fall on her knees and plead at your feet, “I-I don’t need to stay forever. Just long enough to heal-Please-!”

“There is no need to beg, полевая мышь.” a low chuckle escaped your throat, sending a shiver down the back of Beth’s neck, “You are lucky Gwen seems to have taken a liking to you. If not for her, I would feed you to the crawlers… You may stay with us until you heal but, while you are here, you will conform to my rules. Break or refuse to follow one and I will cast you out with only the clothes on your back. Do you understand?”

“Y-yes… ma’am…” Beth mumbled, looking down at your feet.

“Good,” you purred again, your lips pulled up in a tight, almost fake smile, “Why don’t you come inside and take a seat while I go over the rules with you, hmm? I’m sure your legs must be killing you for standing for so long. When we’re done, I’ll give you a proper tour and introduce you to everyone.”

Beth nodded, her body visibly relaxing in relief as she followed you back inside. You sat down in the chair behind the desk, motioning for Beth to take one of the leather seats across from you. 

“So,” you started as Beth sat down, looking down at her hands resting in her lap, “let’s get to it…?”

“Beth,” she answered when she realized you were silently asking for her name.

“Beth. Welcome to our little pack. I am y/n, but you will refer to me as Alpha. Calling me by my name is a privilege that must be earned. Is that understood?” “Yes.”

“Good. Now, in order to keep everyone safe and keep our pack from falling apart, I have set a few rules in place. Failure to conform to these rules will result in your immediate removal from the pack. Get caught breaking a rule and you will be punished accordingly.”

“Yes, Alpha.” Beth muttered, her eyes still trained on her hands. 

“Look at me when I’m talking to you, милый,” you reprimanded, smirking when Beth’s gaze shot up to your face, “Good. Now, our rules. One; you will obey every command I give you without question or complaint. As the alpha, it is my job to ensure that the pack remains safe. You must trust that my actions and commands are made with this in mind. Two; you must return to camp by nightfall every night and are not permitted to leave again until sunrise. Crawlers are most active at night, that is when we need to be the least active. Three; never leave the camp alone. Always in groups of three or more. Four; if you are injured, whether by a crawler or something else, you must tell someone. You cannot expect us to treat you as if you are injured if we do not know that you are. Am I clear so far?”

“Yes, Alpha.”

“хорошая девочка. Rule five; in order to ensure that we have enough water for drinking and cooking, each of us are only permitted to use the showers three times a week unless given verbal permission from me. Six; everyone must use the gym at least two times a week. We need to keep our strength up. Once you heal enough I will have you working with one of my girls to build your muscles back up. Seven; never keep helpful supplies hidden for yourself. We share everything of great value with the pack. Less important things like jewelry and perfumes and such are fine. We have no severe need for them.”

“Yes, Alpha.” Beth repeated again, showing that she was still listening.

“Number eight; don’t bring men into the camp. They cannot be trusted, nor will I pretend to tolerate them. Nine; do not ever turn off the safety feature on your weapon. It must always be ready should another group attempt to raid us or a horde of crawlers find its way through our defenses. This also means that you must be extremely careful. No one has accidentally shot someone yet, but we have had one too many close calls in recent months. And finally, ten-this rule will not apply to you without my explicit permission which you are highly unlikely to receive; do not touch another one of the girls in an intimate sense without verbal permission from both the woman and myself. As the alpha, it is my job to attend to the needs of my pack, whether that be physical, mental, sexual, or otherwise. The others know they are not to touch themselves or each other without my permission and the same goes for you.”

A mildly disgusted look overtook Beth’s face as the realization of your words sunk in. You were fucking all of them?!

“Don’t worry, полевая мышь,” you laughed, the sound harsh and rich, “I have no intentions of mating with you. You are not a permanent part of the pack, not like my girls.” 

“Is that how you became the alpha?” Beth asked before she could stop herself, “By fucking the rest of them into submission?” 

A dark shadow filled your eye as a bemused look crossed your face. You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the desk as you eyed Beth, running your tongue against the inside of your bottom lip.

“I’ll give you one pass since you are new, but if you ever speak to me like that again I will gut you. Do you understand, полевая мышь?” you hissed, your smile widening when Beth nodded, “Yes, мышь, that is how I became the alpha. Before me, it was the principal of this school. Fuck the right people in the right ways and they’ll give up everything to you… But don’t let that fool you into thinking I only fuck them to keep my position, oh no, I fuck them because I truely love them, and will do whatever I can to make them forget about what goes on outside these walls, even if it’s just for a night.”

Beth nodded again, her mind still reeling as it tried to process everything you had just told her.

“So, now that you know our rules and how our pack operates, would you like to stay? If not, we’ll give you back your things and send you on our way.” 

She didn’t know what to say. Beth knew leaving now would inevitably result in her death, yet she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to stay here. You were incredibly fucked up in the head, that was for certain. However, you did genuinely seem to mean what you said about protecting your ‘pack’. As much as Beth didn’t like either option, she ultimately decided that a month or so with you was better than being eaten alive by crawlers in a night. 

“I’ll stay.” she muttered, “And I’ll do whatever I can to be of help while I’m here.”

“Good,” you cooed, clasping your hands together with another tight smile as you rose to your feet, “Come, let’s get you familiar with the camp and properly introduced to everyone, shall we?”

Beth nodded, pushing off of the chair, her legs shaking as she stood. You waited a moment, giving her legs a moment to adjust to carrying her weight again before you strode out of the room, walking slowly so that Beth could keep pace. 

“This is our command center,” you said, leading her inside one of the rooms she’d passed earlier, “In here we keep our main radio as well as our maps, supply lists, and other things of that sort. And this is Larissa.” 

The woman-Larissa looked up from the map she’d been studying and offered Beth a soft smile that had her weak in the knees. Like the others Beth had met, Larissa was tall. Taller than Gwen but not by much, with silvery-blonde hair done up in a complex updo half hidden in a silver headscarf, a shapely, feminine figure dressed in white pants and a silver blouse accentuated with a thick brown belt and brown ankle boots, skin like a porcelain dolls, and long-fingered hands tucked into white gloves. Her eyes were a brilliant, sapphire blue framed by thick mascara-coated lashes and her lips were soft-looking and full, stained a deep ruby red in color. 

She was prestigious and well put together, seeming almost out of place in the modern world. Too gentle, too clean, too pure. But something was off. There was a weary look on her heart-shaped face as she eyed Beth, as well as a sense of falseness to her smile. To Beth, it seemed as if the woman was afraid, But afraid of what? You? Beth? 

“Larissa, сладкий голубь, this is Beth,” you announced, smiling gently at Larissa, a comforting gleam in your eye, “She’ll be staying with us for a while.”

“You’re letting her stay?” Larissa questioned, her voice velvety and melodic, yet there was something enigmatic about it…

“Only because I don’t want to hear Gwen’s pouting for months.” you teased, momentarily drawing a true smile from the woman before it turned false again.

“I suppose that’s as good a reason as any,” the blonde concured, eyeing Beth again before returning her focus to the map on the table as you strode back out of the room, beaconing Beth to follow. 

“You’ll have to excuse her demeanor. Larissa is not one to trust easily.” you said to Beth as the two of you descended down the stairs, “It will take her some time to warm up to you.”

Beth nodded, half-listening as you went on to tell her about what the school had been before the virus, following you into what at one point had been the school’s cafeteria. All of the tables but one were gone, leaving space for eight beds set in a circle in the middle of the room. There were hospital curtains on the sides and in front of each of the beds, allowing for some separation and privacy, though not very much. Also beside each bed was a small stand, on top of which lay an array of objects; hair brushes and hair ties, makeup products, jewelry, photographs, knives, gun magazines, notebooks, books, ect. Then at the foot of each bed was some kind of trunk Beth assumed was for storing larger possessions and clothing. 

There was a large, clearly handmade, circular stone fireplace in the center of the circle of beds, surrounded by an array of well-used, mismatched chairs. Very homey, Beth thought, a sudden wave of homesickness overtaking her. It had been so long since she’d seen anything that even remotely resembled a normal home. 

“This is our sleeping quarters and-for want of a better word-dining hall. We eat and sleep here as well as simply lounge around after curfew. I’ll have the twins help me bring down a cot for you later… My room is just past that door.” you pointed to a mahogany door on the far wall, not too far from the circle of beds but far enough to make it very clear you were separate from the others, “Should you need anything during the night or notice something off while you’re on watch, just knock. I’m a light sleeper.”

Beth nodded again. She wanted to make a comment about you sleeping separate from everyone else but that unnerving glint in your eye kept her at bay. You moved on, showing her the infirmary, makeshift gym, bathrooms and showers. 

“How do you have running water?” She inquired as the two of you made your way outside. Without humans to run things, places like power plants, dams and such had ceased working. Very few places still had electricity and water, none of which were anywhere near your camp. 

“We were able to create our own water system by connecting the plumbing to a river a ways up the mountain. By connecting it to a filtering system, we were able to obtain clean water for drinking and cooking.” you explained, “In order to do that we had to first shut off and drain the preexisting system, remove and close off several pipes from the upper floors, making it so that the plumbing would only run through the ground floor-not that we needed it for much else.” 

“And the electricity?”

“Solar power. We raided a solar power plant not far from here about a year and a half ago and figured out how to use the panels we’d taken to power everything here, including the bus one of my girls hit you with.” you said, stepping outside.

The area you’d taken her to was a courtyard at what appeared to be the center of the mansion. Most of it was made of the same stone as the inside, the other part of a thick wrought iron fence, both of which were decorated with beautiful scrollwork designs. Intricate arches lead off to other parts of the school, while thin cobblestone paths weaved through the grass, which was luscious and oh so green compared to the rest of the world. Several tarps had been stitched together and hung over the entire courtyard, protecting it from the rain and sun. Stone benches lined the courtyard’s edge, there were several tables littered with supplies off to one side, as well as a makeshift shooting range, and a large sparring mat staked to the ground with tent spikes, where two more women were currently occupied. 

The women on the mat were both broad and muscular, though the one facing away from the two of you had a much more haunty feel to her figure. Her short, snowy-white hair was slick with sweat and brushed against the nape of her neck. 

“Phasma, lower your hands!” you shouted, causing Beth to jump, “You’re leaving your ribs exposed! Brienne, widen your stance! If she pushes you, you’re done for!”

The two paused, unfolding from their fighting stances and turning to you, Beth unable to keep her jaw from dropping when she caught sight of-who she assumed was Phasma-'s face. The woman was tall, standing about two inches shorter than you, and had a square face and prominent jaw with a clearly broken nose. A single icy blue eye glared at Beth coldly, the left side of her face marred by a burn scar accentuated with a pearly white eye; clearly the injury had left her blind. Intimidated by her gaze, Beth dropped her eyes to the rest of Phasma’s body. A ripped gray shirt clung to her broad chest and shoulders like a second skin, green cargo pants covered her legs, showing off the muscles there when she flexed them just right. When she shifted her stance a light clinking filled the air, drawing Beth’s attention to the chain of military tags around her neck. 

“Come on ladies, you would think I wouldn’t need to tell you these sorts of things with your track records.” you scolded lightly as they approached you.

“Sorry, Alpha,” they muttered in unison, giving Beth a chance to look at the other one while their attention was trained on you.

The other woman was just as tall as Phasma, with the same square face and chiseled jaw, though her hair reached her shoulders and was the color of straw rather than snow. She had the same small, blue, almond-shaped eyes but hers were darker, more like the ocean, as well as the same porcelain skin. There was a large scar on her cheek; it looked rather like a human-made bite mark. It must have been something she sustained before the virus or she would not have been amongst the “living” now. The woman wore a dark blue tank top that showed off her pale, freckled shoulders tucked into brown cargo pants belted with a thick black belt around her broad hips. Both women were barefoot with linen strips wrapped around their hands, raw pink flesh peeking from beneath the strips. 

“You’ve already met Phasma… in a sense,” you said to Beth, drawing her from her thoughts as you pointed to the one-eyed woman-Phasma, “This is her twin sister, Brienne. Ladies, this is Beth. She’s going to be staying with us for a while.”

It was easy to note the similarities between the two sisters. As well as being similar in appearance the two women had the same posture and ora, and the exact same look on their faces as they eyed Beth like she was merely a piece of meat.

“You’re letting the rat stay?” Phasma practically growled, her voice deep and cold, mildly monotone with a clipped English accent and a slightly rough edge-the bus driver! Realizing Phasma was the one who’d hit her with the bus, Beth narrowed her eyes at the woman, shifting her stance ever so slightly in an attempt to appear stronger and more confident, though the bandages and sling did little to assist her, “Why?”

“Because, Phasma, I don’t think you want to hear Gwen whining for the next few months because we didn’t help her little field mouse any more than I do.” you answered, your voice firm and assertive, causing the frightful-looking blonde to go silent. 

“Alpha,” the other sister-Brienne, stepped forward slightly. Her voice was gravelly and had a natural stentorian and authoritative feel to it, but when she spoke to you it was in the most submissive and respectful way, “our resources are spread thin as it is. Taking on another member… it is not something we can afford…”

“I understand your concerns, Brienne. Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind, but we will make it work.” you assured, “You both know I would never do anything without fully thinking it through-”

“If you had, the runt’s corpse would be halfway up the mountain by now.” Phasma muttered, crossing her arms over her chest, her sister going white beside her as you flushed scarlet.

“Phasma, то есть достаточно!” you roared, raising your hand as if to strike her before lowering it again with a deep breath, “As of now, Beth is a part of our pack. You will treat her with the same respect as the others… And if you ever speak to me like that again, you will be sleeping outside the walls. Is that understood?” The woman merely shrugged, cracking her knuckles as she shifted her gaze to Beth, the one blue eye narrowed dangerously. You sighed, clearly annoyed with the woman’s behavior. 

“Finish your match,” you told them, “Once you’re done go ahead and begin evening procedures. I suspect Jane will have supper ready here soon.”

Phasma shrugged again, her gaze never leaving Beth, causing sweat to form at the base of her neck. Brienne put a hand on her sister’s shoulder, whispering something in her ear that caused Phasma to scoff, roughly shoving her sister away and turning and walking back onto the mat. Brienne shot you an apologetic look, nodding at you before following after her twin, ignoring Beth entirely.

“Ignore them,” you said to Beth, turning away from the sisters, “The twins have always been wound rather tightly, especially Phasma. Give them their space and they’ll give you yours. Just, whatever you do, try not to piss them off… If you couldn’t tell, they’re not afraid to break a couple of bones.” 

“What happened to them?” you looked down at her, your head slightly tilted in question, “The scars…?”

“Those are stories for another time,” you said dismissively, moving towards the cluster of picnic tables where two figures were conversing on one of the benches along the edge of the yard, “Lyme, познакомься с нашим гостем!” you called as you and Beth approached the two.

The woman you’d addressed-Lyme stood up from her spot on one of the stone benches as you and Beth approached, Beth unable to keep from ogling at the goddess before her. The woman towerd over Beth, standing just shorter than the twins with a muscular and powerful, yet curvy build that suggested years of some kind of combative experience and flawless, ivory skin. Her face was strong and angular, free of makeup with chiseled features that conveyed determination and resilience, and eyes like pools of silver that had Beth struggling to breathe. Her dirty blonde hair was cut in a short, stylish pixie cut that kept it out of her face at all times. There was an air of confidence and authority to her, exuding a sense of quiet power and strength. She was dressed in a dingy white tank top that hugged every curve, dark acid wash jeans, a bloodstained jean jacket, a long silver chain hanging around her neck, and gray boots. There was a large AK-47 slung across her back and two knives sheathed at her hips. 

The woman beside Lyme was a few inches shorter than her companion with that same authoritative presence and long, silky brown hair tied back in a low ponytail. She had flawless, sun-kissed skin, a strong, lean and almost cat-like figure and a soft round face void of makeup and splattered with the lightest freckles Beth had ever seen, accentuated with small, dusty blue eyes. There were several small tattoos on her fingers and more poking out from beneath the sleeves of her brown shirt which she’d paired with military-style pants and brown boots, accessorized with a western-style leather holster that housed a silver Glock 17. Her jaw was clenched tightly, and her eyes were narrowed as she eyed Beth up and down, stopping both ways when her eyes reached the sling around Beth’s arm, seeming to size her up. Clearly, she was as keen on having an injured stranger in their midst as Phasma and Brienne were.  

“Beth, this is Lyme and Lady-” you introduced, gesturing to each woman as you said their name. 

“Lady?” Beth asked, releasing a breathy laugh at the odd name which she instantly regretted when the brunette gave her a dangerous look that would have had Beth six feet under if looks were able to kill.  

“Her real name is Jane, but we call her Lady to keep from confusing her with our other Jane.” you explained, stepping slightly in front of Beth as Lady’s hand twitched towards her Glock, “Lady, оставь пистолет в покое.”  

The brunette grumbled, folding her arms across her chest as you gently steered Beth away from the two women.  

“I’d watch your back around her,” you warned, “She’s the wild card around here. I wouldn’t be surprised if she tries to use you as target practice... At least for the first week or so.” 

“Don’t think she’s the only one.” Beth mumbled, eyeing the twins sparring on the mat with a worried glint in her eye. 

“Phasma and Brienne may want to put a bullet in your head, but they’d do it with good intentions-at least, Brienne would… You must understand, we haven’t had a new member in over a year and, well... it didn’t end well.” 

“What happened?”  

“...She died...” you answered, your voice soft, “We were all close with her, and her death shook us quite a bit. In truth, I think the others don’t want you here because they’re afraid of having that attachment again.” 

You went silent for a few moments after that, leading Beth away. She longed to press, to learn what had happened, but it was clearly a touchy subject and she dreaded what would happen if she pushed too far. If she was being entirely honest with herself, Beth was afraid of you. Everything she’d heard, everything she’d seen gave her the impression that, though some of the others in your ‘pack’ were scary, you were the only one who she needed to be terrified of. Your authoritative demeanor, your commanding presence, the unnerving glint in your eye, the harsh edge to your voice all pointed to one simple fact; you were dangerous. In what way exactly, Beth did not know, but she was in no hurry to find out. 

You lead her back inside to a new area of the first floor and into a room piled high with boxes of supplies and racks of clothing categorized by the item and sizes. She followed you through the maze of racks to the back of the room to where a figure was sitting, pointing as you spoke. 

“Jan is who you will go to tomorrow to get fitted for proper clothing. Not only does she have the best sense of fashion, but whatever we don’t have, she can make. She’s quite handy with a needle and some thread.”

The woman you pointed to was like an angel in mortal form with a lean, angular body and pure white skin. A halo of platinum blonde hair fell to the base of her neck in waves framing a sharp, heart-shaped face with blood-red lips and dark eyeshadow with thick black eyeliner that accentuated cerulean blue eyes. Her black, five-inch platform boots seemed a little out of place given the world’s current predicament, but looked quite good with the flared red pants and ruffled white blouse. There was a box of clothing at her feet and a pincushion and several spools of thread on the desk beside her while she methodically stitched away at a shirt laying in her lap. 

“Jan, мой павлин,” you practically cooed, drawing the angel’s attention away from her work, “Why don’t you put the mending away for a while and come meet our guest?”

Jan nodded, gently placing her work on the desk as she stood, her eyes flicking over Beth. Unlike the others, her gaze wasn’t disapproving or judgmental, but rather curious and intrigued. She walked closer, flicking her eyes between you and Beth as she drew near. Even with those boots on she was still an inch or so shorter than you, and as she came to a stop in front of Beth a sweet mixture of warm vanilla and cherry scents filled Beth’s nose.

“I’m Beth.” she offered, holding out her hand to the beauty standing before her, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Jan murmured, taking Beth’s hand in a dainty handshake. Her voice was like a breath of wind, angelic, crisp, and oh so silky. It would have been all too easy for Beth to get lost in its sweet spell. The woman’s skin was like satin against Beth’s coarse hands, deep ruby nails standing out against the pale flesh. 

Beth went to say something, what exactly she was not sure, but the loud, deep ring of a bell cut her off. She released Jan’s hand, looking to you for an explanation as to what the bell was for. 

“That’ll be the dinner bell,” you said to Beth, though your eyes were trained on Jan. To Beth, it seemed that you favored the platinum angel over the rest of your packmates, “Best we head to the dinning hall before Jane or Larissa have our heads for being late.” 

Jan nodded, turning off the lamp beside the desk she’d been using before taking hold of your arm as you led her and Beth back out of the room. The three of you joined the others in the dining hall where you did a quick check to make sure everyone was accounted for, scowling when you noticed one member was missing.

“Where’s Phasma?” you half growled to Brienne, your eyes narrowed in annoyance.

“She went to put the bus away,” Brienne shrugged, “Best bet is she’s still in the garage.”

You sighed, rubbing your temple before muttering, “You lot go ahead and get started. I’ll run out and grab her.” 

You left without another word, leaving Beth alone with the remaining seven members of your pack. She stood back, staying out of the way while the others lined up to get food much like you would in a school cafetorium-which they were currently in-unable to keep her eyes from glancing over the strong, shapely figures standing about ten feet from her. As much as she wished to deny it, Beth could see why you would find it hard to choose only one of the women here; she was caught in the claws of these beauties… and no force on Earth would save her if she woke the beast…

A/n: This is the first fanfic I've written that was over 1,000 words so I apologize if it drags a little at times. Pt.2 should be released in a few weeks. Hope you enjoyed!! :)

[impossiblefangirl0632]

Take Back the Kingdom Master List

I've decided to compile everything related to Take Back the Kingdom in one easy place. This entire universe has been co-written with @optimistic-violinist

Fics by Us

Take Back the Kingdom: This is the main fic that as of posting this has one chapter left. (Edit 3/29/24: Now complete plus one epilogue) It's a fantasy kingdom/modern AU with found family, adventure, mystery, a smidge of humor, and buckets of angst. Rated T, currently 169K words

The Appendices: These are outtakes and other material adjacent to the main fic.

To Fall Apart (to reunite): A deep dive into Bruno's backstory using the 2023 Encantober prompts. Fleshes out his relationship with Razili and gives more backstory for Oscar. Includes bits and pieces of the yet to be published Like Ships.

Like Ships: Bruno/Razili's story

Home: A little AU oneshot that I should really post to the Appendices that is currently only on tumblr. Bruno manages to find the canon Encanto and things get confusing.

Valentine's Day oneshot: What it says on the tin. Bruno/Razili

Adjacent Fics by Others

Just Your Ordinary, Everyday Encounter with… Yourself?: This is a crossover fic we wrote with @16magnolias that has our Bruno/Razili meeting Mags' Bruno/Lucia

@ramblesanddragons 's first oneshot based on TBTK

Reading Take Back the Kingdom by Asteria_Leon: One of our readers asked permission to write a read it fic of TBTK. It has our AU characters reading the fic before the events of Antonio's gift ceremony.

A Lonely Soul and a Hearty Laugh by @ramblesanddragons : An excellent snippet of Bruno's life and a bit of human kindness. (I'm still not over this, thanks again Rambles)

Art by others (Still not over this!)

@16magnolias drew the flying scene from chapter 28 for my birthday and IT'S SO GOOOOOOOOD!!! She also drew Bruno and Razili!

Razili among some other excellent OCs by @teawizard

@greenvillainredemption drew Razili in another group of amazing OCs

@dragondrawer28 drew the ceremonial robes!

Art by me

Razili's Character Sheet: (This has art by others as well)

This silly Spoilers Without Context I made for Chapter 31 of TBTK

Pirate Bruno and Razili

Art by Britt

Her AMAZING ANIME OPENING/ANIMATIC for TBTK

My posts about this universe are tagged either TBTK or Razili

[malsfefanfics]

OC Profile: Medee

Art by la-horrorosa, edited to icon size by me.

"I've only known Lady Medee for a short time. But she is incredibly intelligent, and a devoted member of the Vestra family. Though as I get to know her, some of her children's more interesting quirks have suddenly made much more sense. She seems to know things just before they happen, and can tell who is right behind her without even looking. Also, Sylvain seems to avoid her like the plague." --Edelgard, about Medee.

Full name: Medee von Vestra (Formerly Medee von Anavros) Nicknames: Witch (by her enemies) Birthday: 14th Day of the Great Tree Moon, 11XX Age: Unknown Crest: None Family: Iason von Vestra (Husband, deceased), Hubert (Eldest Son), Rosamund (Daughter), Tancred (Youngest Son), Absyrtus (Younger Brother, deceased), Chalciope (Younger Sister, deceased) Nationality: Adrestia Titles: Soaring Faith Scholar, Healing Matriarch, Mother of Faithology Voice Claim: Coleen Clinkenbeard (Yuko Ichihara in xxxholic)

Interests: Faith study, Magic Experimentation, Science, Alchemy, Autopsy Likes: Science/Magic, Flying, her children, Pretty Rocks Dislikes: Her husband, Nobility, The Church, Tomatoes

Favorite Meals: Garreg Mach Meat Pie, Bourgeois Pike, Beast Meat Teppanyaki, Vegetable Pasta Salad Liked Meals: Sautéed Jerky, Cheesy Verona Stew, Peach Sorbet, Country-Style Red Turnip Plate, Grilled Herring, Small Fish Skewers, Fried Crayfish Disliked Meals: Gautier Cheese Gratin, Daphnel Stew, Notes: In meals with Tomatoes, she picks them out. Do not ask her why she dislikes them.

Tea Preferences: Crescent-Moon Tea, Bergamot, Four-Spice Blend, Chamomile, Almyran Pine Needles

Liked Gifts: Any flower, Arithmetic Textbook, Blue Cheese, Coffee Beans, Tea Leaves, Riding Boots, Ceremonial Sword Disliked Gifts: Goddess Statuette, Landscape Painting, Legends of Chivalry Notes: Gifting her "Legends of Chivalry" will cause her motivation to go down and for her to vanish for the rest of the day.

Lost Items:

Silver Scalpel: A tool meant for carving into things. Looks well cared for and belongs to a set. There's a mark of an old Adrestian family on the handle.

Silver Masquerade Mask: A full-faced mask meant for festivals and feasts. Looks refined and elegant, yet it is very unsettling.

Quilted Children's Blanket: A blanket specially sewn for newborns, meant to last for decades. It has the names of many relatives on every square.

Starting Class: Noble Preferred Class Path: Noble –> Monk/Soldier/Myrmidon –> Mage/Preist/Pegasus Knight –> Warlock/Bishop –> Gremory/Dark Flyer Strength: White Magic, Black Magic, Dark Magic Weakness: Axe Budding Talent: Sword Personal Skill: Spoon Full of Sugar - Restores 5HP to any Magic Unit within one square of her if their HP is at less than half at the start of your turn.

Weapons Starting Levels:

Sword: C Lance: D Axe: E Bow: E Brawling: E+ Reason: B Faith: B Authority: E+ Heavy Armor: E Riding: CFlying: B

Base Stats: (At Recruitment)

HP: 35 Str: 13 Mag: 29 Dex: 17 Spd: 16 Lck: 11 Def: 10 Res: 19 Cha: 14

Learned Faith Spells: Heal, Nosferatu, Rescue, Silence, Abraxas Learned Reason Spells: Miasma Δ, Bolganone, Luna Λ, Meteor, Agnea’s Arrow

Recruit Requirements: Crimson Flower Exclusive - Must have all three Vestra Siblings

Potential Supports:

Byleth

Edelgard

Hubert

Rosamund

Tancred

Constance

Lysithea

Sylvain

Felix

Seteth

Flayn

Manuela

Alois

Hanneman

Shamir

Crit Quotes:

Silence!

You need a time out!

Let's test that hypothesis!

You'll need a doctor.

Bedtime for you.

DO NOT SPEAK HER NAME! (Against any Kingdom Commander)

Mother's here, darling!

I will not pray for you!

Defeat Quotes:

That experiment failed. Best return to the drawing board.

I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I must withdraw.

That was....very unfortunate...…

My dear children....I'm afraid.... your mother won't be coming home.....

Chalciope....I'll see you soon, sister.....

And so.....House Anavros truly ends with me.... (if her children all died in battle)

Skill Level Increase Quotes:

This should help my experiments.

This will impress Tancred.

Rosamund will enjoy this.

I shall make use of this for Her Majesty.

Oh, I know Hubert will find this delightful.

Hmh. Interesting.

Even an old crone can learn something.

Level Up Quotes:

Every day, a little life.

The Anavros Standard.

I suppose I'm still rusty.

You'd be impressed what age can do.

Eventually we learn all we can.

Gift Quotes:

Liked Gifts: Oh, sweetheart. You're far too kind to an old lady like myself.

Neutral Gifts: How thoughtful. Thank you, darling.

Disliked Gifts: Well, I was in need of something to test this new potion on.

[eagle-warri]

MAG XXX: Labyrinthine

(inspired by both @cherrifire’s Distortion!BigB and @mothofprophecy’s Distortion!Grian. And also the fact that Secret Life is basically a Spiral domain at this point)

tw: derealization, descriptions of glitching

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[click]

[ARCHIVIST] Statement of G. Rian regarding a maze of doors. Statement given October 29, 20…that can’t be right. The statement says it was given 2023, that day hasn’t happened yet. It must’ve been a mistake, I’ll have to refile it. Statement begins.

[ARCHIVIST (statement)] Alright, first thing you need to know is that I am not the best guy sometimes, but I try! If I sometimes trap my friends in death games for fun, well, no one’s perfect. I see how you’re looking at me, they’re fine. Mostly. Don’t ask about Jimmy.

Anyways. I was running another game, but something was wrong. I wasn’t completely in control anymore, something…else had gotten in there. And not of my own design. Something not of blood and life and death, like the games always were, not of the binding strings and rot of Double or the ticking time of Lim or the hopping bloodlust of Last, but of color and twisting and lies. We had…they were called Secrets. Things we had to do or we suffered the consequences. And there was one player…

It was BigB. Don’t ask about a real name, only about half the players went by one, and he wasn’t one of them. But from the start his secrets were weird. First one I’m almost sure was hole-related, but he would not tell me, which I’m kind of annoyed about. But the second one…

I don’t even know what his secret was for, but he had some sort of labyrinth built, and he invited me in. I took it, obviously. But as I passed him, something was a bit off. Nothing was wrong looking right at him, but out of the corner of my eye I could have sworn that he was glitching. Like, he had this weird, colorful outline, and his fingers were too long. I didn’t think much of it. Probably should have, otherwise I wouldn’t be in here.

Anyways, I headed in, and figured that it was a maze thing, that I’d have to find my way out. Especially when I glanced back and realized the door wasn’t there anymore. I kept going, but it seemed like I was going in circles. The doors on the walls kept changing, colors and styles glitching. Eventually I tried just walking in one direction. Until I realized that I should have been past the world border. There should’ve…well what should’ve happened is that there was a wall, a border somewhere that you couldn’t go through. A pocket domain’s only so large, ya know? Suppose you do, given this place.

I kept going. Eventually I started running, checking every door I could. It only seemed to glitch more the more I was in there. It was as if whatever had trapped me in that place didn’t like me. And every so often, when I glanced back, I saw BigB. He seemed at home in the glitches, but so wrong at the same time. His limbs didn’t look right, his sweater glitching from blue to pink to purple. The curls in his hair only spiraled in and in and in and in, never seeming to stop.

I found the one door that wasn’t glitching. It seemed normal, your typical birch door that seemed stark against the dissolving hallway around me. I grabbed for it and went through it and…

I woke up on the ground, looking up at BigB. He looked…normal. It was a stark contrast from the glitching mess that had been in the maze. He helped me up, saying I’d passed out in there, that he’d dragged me out. He shrugged before waving a goodbye as I walked up the stairs that spiraled up to ground level. 

As I left, I thought to check my secret. It said to move some doors around people’s bases, and I did! Twice as many as I needed to, actually. And I built this confusing base thing, basically all stairs.

I never realized how much fun it was to confuse people like that.

[ARCHIVIST] Statement ends. There’s…a lot to unpack here. That Jimmy he mentioned…I’m pretty sure we have an End statement by a Jimmy that refers to a “G” a couple of times. But the other things. Mr. Rian seems like a dangerous Avatar. It seems less like he belongs to someone specific, and more to a fear, something game and death and blood and control. Adding being Spiral-touched to that can’t be good for anyone. Hell, it seems like he’s halfway to being an Archivist himself, if he wasn’t so tied to Web.

That BigB he mentioned confuses me too. He doesn’t match the description of Michael or Helen, but he’s obviously a Distortion. The doors make that obvious enough. Maybe this thing really is from that date. Or maybe it’s not, and the Spiral is just messing with me.

Not really that much to follow up on here, unless I want someone to end up in his…what did he call it? “Pocket Domain?”

Whatever that is, it sounds worrying. For now, I’ll only hope that none of us cross G’s path.

[click]

[starmagnets]

Magomarch day 29: machinery

“Just what happened here that could destroy a clockwork star…?”

Based very loosely on a scene from my fic where Mags comes across the wreckage of Nova with Marx at the centre of it all.

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

UNLOCKABLE CHECKS

ENCYLOPEDIA - [Formidable] Find the source of the Expression.

RHETORIC - [Legendary] Convince Gaston to give us his sandwich.

CONCEPTUALIZATION - [Impossible] What’s up with the backyard wall?

SUGGESTION - [Medium] Why is Annette familiar?

ELECTROCHEMISTRY - [Impossible] Stop making the Expression.

COMPOSURE - [Legendary] What makes Rene stand so proud?

REACTION SPEED - [Medium] Find a Dick Mullen book.

INTERFACING - [Challenging] Fix the broken faucet in our hotel room, [Medium] Find a figurine in Roy’s store.

HAND/EYE COORDINATION - [Legendary] What kind of gun fired the bullet? MAXED

EQUIPPABLE THOUGHTS

MAGNESIUM-BASED LIFEFORM

Temporary bonus: -1 Shivers: No shakes

It is generally understood that human beings are carbon-based organisms, fusing little carbon tubes together to form complex, mushy structures capable of thought, love, and locomotion. It is also known that these structures sometimes like to “take the edge off” by consuming ethanol, amphetamine, etc. In such cases, it is important to supplement your body with magnesium. Tired? Mag it! Down? Mag time! Liver damage? MAXIMUM MAG! Some people say magnesium doesn’t really do anything and you just need to quit. What do we tell them?

DETECTIVE COSTEAU

Temporary bonus: -2 Conceptualization: An idiotic idea

Detective Raphaël Ambrosius Costeau – when you say it, it feels like you’re taking a bite of lemon meringue while sitting on the terrace of a seaside cafe. On a cool summer day. In Sur-La-Clef. It’s everything you’re *not*. You haven’t created many things during your stay in Martinaise, but you’ve created this. A fancy, sophisticated name that makes you sound intelligent. And that no one seems to *acknowledge*. Don’t you feel like you deserve a reward for coming up with something so special? And what would that reward *be*?

BRINGING OF THE LAW (LAW-JAW)

Temporary bonus: -1 Rhetoric: Weird jaw

Hey, so a little observation. It’s all cool, man. Don’t freak out, but every time you say “I am the law“ – and you say it *a lot*, it’s basically *hello* for you – your jaw does this *weird thing*. It sort of shifts sideways, hanging off your face at a jaunty angle, while the word *law* sounds oddly guttural and low. It’s… strange. You wouldn’t notice it, but after saying you’re the law eighty thousand times, the question *does* come up: why *do* you have Law Jaw?

DATE OF BIRTH GENERATOR

Temporary bonus: None

Your face looks like it’s 58 and your body feels like it’s 60. Your mind feels like it’s lived for one day or a hundred. Both longer than they ought to be, the day and the century…. But for how long, then, has this thing attached to your sentience walked the planet’s crust? Time to start racking those brains of yours, Elder One. When and where were you born?

MOTORWAY SOUTH

Temporary bonus: -1 Visual Calculus: Bizarre angles

At the edge of the map the landmass begins to disintegrate – into pure trigonometry. The ocean melts, becoming a tangle of sines and cosines, the mountain range turns into a sharp-angled azimuth. Its green rain shadow dithers, like music turning into a waveform. And then vanishes. This is the end, a half-remembered textbook from your childhood – the porch collapsing on the edge of the isola. A transition from reality to pale. A single vector shoots out, like a rocket. It’s the Motorway South, splintering off from the known pale! *To where*? Where does it go?

WOMPTY-DOMPTY-DOM CENTRE

Temporary bonus: -1 Suggestion: Outsider

It’s Wednesday evening and something heinously exciting is under way. People have gathered beneath the billowing roof of an oddly shaped trophy building, sipping wine and exchanging opinions. 29-year-old wunder-twins Guy and Keith Joost are the stars of the show, with their bomber jackets and white sneakers – head curators of this art exhibition. It’s the wompty-dom-di-dommiest event of the year and all the cool kids have RSVP’d. Where are you, if you are not there?

[bracketsoffear]

I haven’t watched No Country for Old Men, but based on the description the submitter gave and the clip attached, Anton Chigurh really reminds me of MAG: 29 Cheating Death.

In the statement, Nathaniel Thorp is given the option by Death to play a game with him. While there is some skill involved in Faro, it is still a chance based game. Anton similarly gave victims a chance with the option of a coin toss.

Even though he is actively killing, he seems passive in his approach by viewing himself as an agent of fate, which does objectively seem more terrifying in the idea that You Could Die At Any Time.

-

Harrowhark is a necromancer and she does murder planets, however she doesn’t really spread the fear of death because in her setting death is more of an every day thing that people aren’t afraid of because it’s understood. And I think that that is the downfall here, death being a concept that is understood and with few to none of the characters being afraid of dying.

Beyond that her next stand out trait is being the premier bone adept, which is more Flesh and in tune with Jared Hopworth as a Boneturner.

.

[anniekoh]

elsewhere on the internet: stop cop city

Atlanta’s “Stop Cop City” Movement Is Youth-Led Democracy in Action (Nov 2023, The Nation)

In July, the Georgia State University Student Government Association passed a resolution opposing Atlanta’s proposed “Public Safety Training Center”—also known as Cop City—to be constructed on 85-acres of land outside of city limits.

According to Ramirez, the ties between the university and the Atlanta Police Foundation further pushed students to act. “Approximately 20 faculty members and GSUPD personnel were identified as APF donors. Notably, GSU’s non-profit entity, The Georgia State Foundation, was also listed as a donor,” said Ramirez, citing documents obtained under the Georgia Open Records Act. “As an institution that prides itself on high Black student graduation rates and one of the most diverse student bodies in the country,” reads a statement from the GSU Student Coalition Against Policing & Militarism, “GSU’s participation in prison industrial complex expansion raises concerns.”

Mutual Aid and the movement to Stop Cop City  (Oct 2023, Shareable)

On August 29, 2023, Georgia Attorney General Chris Carr filed an indictment against 61 members of the movement to Defend the Atlanta Forest and Stop Cop City. The indictment alleges a vast criminal conspiracy on the part of the activists, weaving them together in a legal scheme so fantastical that one of the accused is cited for being reimbursed for Elmer’s Glue.

It’s a patchwork case with Carr — the announced 2026 Georgia gubernatorial candidate — creating a veritable Charlotte’s Web; scrawling words in the web in a desperate ploy for attention. Unfortunately, it also represents a brazen assault on social justice organizers reminiscent of the FBI’s surveillance and attacks on the Civil Rights and Black Power movements in the 1960s and 70s.

In order to justify the harsh charges, each carrying up to 25 years in prison, Carr attempts to link the protestors together based on their shared commitments to collective welfare and mutual aid. In other words, the State of Georgia is currently arguing that participation in mutual aid projects and practicing solidarity constitutes furthering a criminal conspiracy. If Carr is going to try to make a twisted image of mutual aid tantamount to terrorism, we should all get clear on what mutual aid really is.

How We’ll Know if Stop Cop City Won (Summer 2023, Hammer & Hope)

After the Atlanta City Council coldly rejected 15 hours of public comment against Cop City on June 6, a coalition of electoral groups and abolitionist mainstays announced a referendum campaign to bring the question of Cop City to the ballot citywide. Theoretically, if we are able to collect 58,203 verified signatures from Atlanta residents (representing 15 percent of registered voters), the people of Atlanta will get to decide whether or not the Atlanta Police Foundation can keep its lease for the South River Forest. On August 21, the coalition announced that it had collected 104,000 signatures — for scale, current Mayor Andre Dickens garnered only a little over 50,000 votes in the last election — but would continue the signature drive through September to ensure that the city’s onerous signature verification process does not invalidate so many that the threshold isn’t met. Still, it’s a risky strategy: the city could stall the vote long enough to build the facility. We could make it on the ballot and lose. And if we lose in these ways, what will endure?

A Weapon by the State to Silence Our Voices (Apr 2023, Bolts Mag)

The Cop City arrests near Atlanta show how a buildup of "critical infrastructure" laws across the country threatens to quell protests for environmental justice and police accountability.

[a-mag-a-day]

MAG 29 - still apple cutting session

Ah yes, the old "There once was a person", telling the story and then going "Guess what, I am that person I was talking about!"- trope

"Are you interested in folktales at all?" - Haha, that's also in the "Jonathan Sims asks you things" video xD

"because as far as I know this story has never been written down. I’d do it myself, but there’s a reason you’re having to write this for me. One of these days I’ll get around to learning my letters." - So this statement is transcribed from live dictation because he never went to school and couldn't exactly takes classes when he was being a skeleton. I like that reason for needing an assistant to transcribe it and then having the shock of the assistant to the presented evidence translate into the record. Even tho I have a few… bones to pick… (badum tss!) with the way this is shown, it of course makes sense for the sake of the storytelling.

I have never before heard of "Faro", so let's watch a "How to play Faro"-tutorial … ok this looks complicated! Probably a perfect game to cheat.

"and if you win, you shall not die." - my brain at my first listen immediately went "Ohhhh, that doesn't sound like the easy solution to this fella's problem…"

"Faro, or ‘Bucking the Tiger’ as the carnival hawkers would have it, is not a complicated game." - Says you! It seems hard for the player to get a higher stack if the whole game long their winning cards only get bets doubled and everything else is lost - in this case belongs to the dealer in order to be able to declare a winner?

"Its tone was almost… happy." / "It was only then he really noticed the low, rumbling laugh that came from Death." - Yep, not good.

"After this point the rest of the page is covered in what appears to be a large bloodstain." - of course the blood would only stain the part of the paper of what statement has yet to come and not hit the part that has already been used^^

"The statement resumes on the page afterwards, in a somewhat shakier hand." - Why would someone transcribe this with a pen? There are typewriters, even bright-colored ones now that's it's the 70s! Get one in matching blood-red or something like that.

So it was basically near impossible to win against Death, if not for cheating or games that really only were luck-based and even then the drop rate for that was insanely low.

"Fiona Law, the research assistant who took the statement, passed away in 2003 from complications following a liver transplant" - Cover up or continuity error due to story of Gertrude's assistant not being written yet. Anyway, props to Fiona for not fainting there XD That would have been funny, Nathanial waiting there patiently for Fiona to wake up and then asking her annoyed "You done, can we continue now?"

"Elias was working as a filing clerk at the time" - another continuity error or Jonah letting something slip? 1972, Richard Mendelson was still in charge back then, switching to James Wright only the following year.

So yeah, bit of a foreseeable story, but that's because it's a classic! Gambling with Death. Cheating Death. And then not getting what you thought you would.

Lol lots of continuity errors in this one huh

[madam-bibrarian]

The announcement of more Magnus Archives has triggered my 4th or 5th relisten, and this time for whatever reason I am hyper-aware of any mention of the Web or spiders outside of the context of normal Web statements. This leads to my new personal headcanon: The Web manipulated the Corruption to mark Jon without killing him, because the Web didn’t think the Corruption was capable of doing a good job by itself.

Evidence, listed chronologically within the timeline of the universe rather than publication order:

In MAG 32 (statement given February 23, 2014), Jane Prentiss spends a good chunk of time wondering how she knew there was a wasp’s nest in the attic of her house. She didn’t see any wasps, and she explicitly states the nest itself didn’t sing to her. She does recall seeing spider webs around the door, though, and seeing spiders scurrying between the boards. To me, this feels like the Web drawing attention, nudging Jane towards the nest.

In MAG 16 (statement given a bit over a year later, April 9, 2015), Carlos Vittery reports seeing silvery worms before the unkillable spider shows up - meaning Prentiss had already taken up residence in the basement. Perhaps the Web found Prentiss to be directionless, and wanted to create a reason for someone from the Magnus Institute to come sniffing around?

This is exactly what happens - MAG 22 details Prentiss stalking Martin in March of 2016, and he only caught her attention because he broke into the basement where she’d been staying. Based on Prentiss’s state, I imagine she doesn’t get out much. The last recorded sighting of her in person based on statements is December of 2014 based on MAG 6. It’s not hard to assume that Prentiss might have simply languished and died in that basement eventually without the motivation of attacking new prey.

With the archival staff now in her sights, Prentiss begins stalking the Magnus Institute. This goes on for several months until MAG 38 (recorded July 29, 2016), when Jon sees a spider on his wall. In the process of killing it, he knocks over a bookshelf, creating a hole in the wall for the worms to spill through and triggering Prentiss’s attack on the archives. Tim theorizes in MAG 40 that the worms weren’t ready to attack, and that Jon finding the tunnels forced them to act. However - Jon might not have found the tunnels in time if he hadn’t knocked a hole in the wall while trying to kill a spider. 

Jon later observes in MAG 46 that there are more spider webs in the tunnel than before, and that the larger spiders are eating the worm remains.

So in summary: the Web knows Jon must be marked by all fears, but has little confidence in the Corruption to get the job done without outright killing Jon, or failing to mark him entirely. The Web nudges a potential avatar for the Corruption into getting infected, ensures this new avatar crosses paths with the Magnus Institute, and then sabotages their attack efforts before the avatar gets strong enough to actually kill the Archivist. The Web then kindly activates its cleanup crew.

I also enjoy this headcanon because it feels like the Web is saying, “This is my dumb cousin the Corruption, who is incompetent in spite of having literally all bugs except spiders. I have to do all the work for them and clean up their messes. I hate them so much.”

[kimhortons]

Tuesday, November 29.

last night, pinag uusapan namin ni Joemar yung pag move out ko nga (pansamantala) if okay ba 'tong desisyon ko/namin. medyo naguguluhan parin kasi ako lalo pag may nakikita akong mga tarot readings sa Tiktok haha. alam ko naman na di dapat ako mqg base doon, kaso minsan kasi accurate or alam mo yung parang ikaw talaga yung kausap haha.

meron kasing isang vid si anj, sa last part kung saan if may tanong ka, it’s answerable by yes or no. ang tanong ko kasi non “okay ba ‘tong desisyon ko na lumayo muna” tapos ang card na lumabas “reconsider” it’s not a no naman daw pero parang need ko raw mag allow ng other options nabanggit niya rin kasi na may mga decisions akong di natutuloy, ayun nga kasi last last week dapat talaga aalis na ko kaso nagka problema yung cheque ko non na naka affect din sa budget namin, pwede naman sana na kami umalis tapos ipapadala nalang dun kaso bitin narin kami sa budget, need ko pa ng pamasahe, mawawalan naman ng pang budget si Joemar. so nag decide ulit kami na mag stay nalang muna ako dito, since balak naman din namin umuwi ng new year, atleast isahang gastos nalang ako sa pamasahe.

next card na lumabas, “communicate clearly” then she explained din na “it’s time for me to communicate things clearly with the people you feel detached with” and i think it’s about my relationship with my family, yung first part din kasi ng video is about cutting off, yun narin kasi talaga unti unti kong ginagawa sakanila sa sobrang gulo ng pamilyang ‘to. parang lahat ng nangyari at nangyayari sakin ngayon, naikwento niya sa video na yun.

last time kasi diba kinausap nga ako ng tita ko, nakikinig lang ako pero di ako sumasagot kasi ayaw ko talaga makipag usap sakanila. lagi kasi nila akong tinatanong “ano bang plano mo?” “ano bang pinaglalaban mo?” di kasi nila magets kung saan ako nanggagaling tuwing hindi kami okay ng tatay ko. tbh, gusto ko magsalita, gusto ko ishare yung nararamdaman ko sakanila pero naiisip ko palang, napapagod na agad akong mag explain, feeling ko babalewalain lang naman din nila. so ayun, i dunno kung kaya ko na ba i-communicate ‘to sakanila ng maayos. ang hirap kasi pag lumaki kang hindi open yung pamilya mo to talk about feelings. laging shrug off nalang ganon.

kaya kagabi sabi ko rin kay J na, iniisip ko kung okay lang ba talaga sakanila na dun na muna ako titira, e hindi naman kami kasal. nag woworry ako sa iisipin ng iba, kung okay ba talaga sa mama niya, sa mga tito niya at lalo na dun sa tita niyang feeling ko ayaw saken. haha. wala naman daw siyang paki pero saken parang big deal, dahil nga siguro sa mga pinag sasabi saken ng tita ko last time.

[waratah-moon]

about me

Currently

📺 watching: literally nothing I have no free time anymore.

📖 reading: I spent way too much on romance novels… currently reading Icebreaker by Hannah Grace

🎵 listening: Taylor, always, and shuffling my likes on Spotify.

🖤 obsessing: Audibooks for long car rides! I’m listening to Lady Midnight.

Blog est. 2013

Hi I’m Magdalena (Mags, Maggie), she/her. I’m 23 and I live in Australia. I'm a registered nurse but my dream is to be a published author.

waratah-moon is special to me because it is based on my favourite Dreamtime story of Toonkoo and Ngaardi. Always Was, Always Will Be Aboriginal Land 🖤 💛 ❤️

✨ Things I like ✨ : Iced lattes, rain, candles that smell like Christmas time, crocheting intricate blankets, formula 1, writing fantasies, manifestation, comfort shows, happily ever afters

navi / masterlist / f1 side blog

reviewed 29/6/23

[marlasomething]

He compartido 4468 publicaciones este 2022

¡Son 3361 más que en 2021!

100 publicaciones originales (2 %)

4368 reblogueos (98 %)

Estos son los blogs que más he reblogueado:

@khaleesiinatardis

@a-mag-a-day

@little-lamb-lyosha

@trajektoria

@p1nkwitch

He etiquetado 194 publicaciones en 2022

#magnuspod: 62 publicaciones

#fanfic: 59 publicaciones

#the magnus archives: 56 publicaciones

#tma: 52 publicaciones

#writing: 44 publicaciones

#fic: 39 publicaciones

#ao3: 38 publicaciones

#fanfiction: 29 publicaciones

#self-promo: 22 publicaciones

#a mag a day: 22 publicaciones

Longest Tag: 53 characters

#right after i finished a tma episode...it was...weird

Mis publicaciones más populares este 2022:

5

Well, I have finished Dracula ONCE AGAIN...am I crying? Maybe, yeah.

This has been the time I enjoyed most right next to the very first read (because I obviously didn’t expect Dracula to be THAT).

I KNEW, I BLOODY KNEW that the last parragraphs basically put Mina in the status of main hero of the novel and YET, it caught me

21 notas. Fecha de publicación: 7 de noviembre de 2022

4

Zutara Month (Day 23): This Isn't My Idea

Hello there!

As usual, I cannot see a "challenge" and let it go so...Zutara month it is! First time writing for the fandom, I won't be able to do ALL DAYS (today, for example, I wrote this still on the nick of time, but now it is already technically the 25th...eh, sorry @zutaramonth)

I promise to write something Zutara based after this month a bit longer, I swear.

As usual, do please forgive my quick tipper and non-native speaker mistakes, MarlaAllons-y!

Also in AO3

Everyone in every corner of the world agreed: Katara was a Hero, with capital H.

Not only had she helped The Avatar himself to finish off with the worst dictator that humanity had seen in ages, but she was now   sacrificing herself   by marrying off to his son; so the peace with the Fire Nation became even more undeniable and, therefore, unbreakable.

Obviously, everybody knew this was just an arranged marriage for, as much as Prince Zuko (he still insisted he wasn’t ready yet to be   King Zuko  ), he was still the man that once had been every person fighting for freedom’s foe.

Also, she was the best friend of Aang;   it was crystal clear   they ought to have been in love. This was a tale as old as time: best hero-friends always fell in love.

Still, as much as they commented how mad and sad it made them the two heroic figures ending up together, they understood and thanked the now already young woman (no longer a teenager) for taking up such heavy weight over her shoulders.

They just wished Prince Zuko was more as he was trying to be in public lately than the way they all still pictured him in their minds…

~~~~~

As the doors closed behind them, Zuko buried his face in Katara’s shoulder, who just laughed, with relief.

“I guess now we can stop pretending we are just   good friends   without risking demonstrations all around every nation.”

He smirked at her comment and raised his head to look into her eyes. He still remembered the first time those eyes had truly   seen   him, back when they were still rivals and, yet, she had trusted him…

“I guess so…You know, I would have understood, if you hadn’t wanted to keep them. We are still young and now for a lot of people you are going to just be   Zuko’s wife.”  

She punched him in the arm.

“First of all; it is more hat you are going to become   Katara’s husband   and, secondly…I…I mean, we are only in our early twenties, but we have lived so much I feel ready to be a mom…as long as Iroh is around to help.”

Both laughed.

“How could he not be?” he held her hand. “Still…I am sorry so many people are going to think this is just an arranged marriage.”

“Well, I mean, as Toph said…all marriages   need to be   arranged, whatever the reason for said arrangement, that is our personal fucking business.”

                       And theirs was as good as they came.

25 notas. Fecha de publicación: 25 de abril de 2022

3

MARLA’S 2022 AO3 MASTERLIST

Hello there, Marla here!

This year I won’t be as messy as last year with my writing organisation so I am doing a 2022 Masterlist of everything published on AO3 to be updated as new stuff arrives! Yaih! All my nonsense at your disposition!

And, if you want to see what I wrote the previous year, not to worry, here it is my 2021 AO3 Masterlist

Now, with further ado, allons-y!

Long life and prosperity,

Marla

(The) Amelia Project

Amelia Caller: Dawn of the Characters: script I based my phone call recording ON THE AMELIA FEED on

Manage Your Clon-ishgo: Cocoa Challenge 2022 (Day 1)

This Could Be Me: Cocoa Challenge 2022 (Alternative promp)

Last of the Real Ones: Cocoa Challenge 2022 (Day 2)

The Fools Who Dream: Cocoa Challenge 2022 (Day 3)

Louder than the Weather: Cocoa Challenge 2022 (Alternative promp)

Goodbye To My Life: Cocoa Challenge 2022 (Day 4)

It’s the Hitmen’s Life: Cocoa Challenge 2022 (Alternative promp)

Fakenniversary: Cocoa Challenge 2022 (Day 5)

Everything Just Here All At Once: Cocoa Challenge 2022 (Alternative promp)

ATLA

Go Now:  Zutara Month 2022

This Isn’t My Idea: Zutara Month 2022 

Tea Nation: Zutara Month 2022 

...Let Your Heart Decide?: Zutara Month 2022 

Lonely Nation: High-school AU Zuko-centric

(The) Evil Dead

The Sorta Kinda Winding Road: Original Trilogy + 2013 Film crossover-ish

Good Omens

So Unaware Of My Status: A Visit From Miss Crowley Challenge

The Sound Of Leathered Women!: A Visit From Miss Crowley Challenge 

Girl With A Tongue: A Visit From Miss Crowley Challenge 

Descúbrela

43 notas. Fecha de publicación: 5 de enero de 2022

2

Lucy’s (My) Mom

Ok, a lot of people have already commented this, but from the very first time I read Dracula as a teen (right when I was starting to discover ‘sometimes parents do harmful things and even if the intentions are good there is no compulsory reason to automatically forgive them) I just couldn’t help but being extremely UPSET about Lucy’s mom.

It is not only this whole garlic incident, that is the equivalent of, for example, ‘I don’t understand why you keep going to the psycologist if you are not depressed anymore’: it doesn’t matter wether you have all the data or not, if someone is doing something that is ‘out of the usual norm’ and is very clearly related to a Health issue...let it BE or try to understand it, don’t take matters into your own hands and then BE PROUD OF ACTING OUT OF IGNORANCE.

The worst part, though, it’s all the previous behaviour. The whole not letting her sleep with her when it was clearly something HER DAUGHTER NEEDED, her being upset about Lucy’s FRIEND taking care of her (likely bcs she believed she knew better than her own daughter the people around her and their true intentions -again, been there-)...

...so yeah, I dislike her and, even though it is true more could have been communicated to her:

a) it is a horror story, lack of communitacion is almost a must

b) none of her actions should be done, no matter how much you know about the matter

69 notas. Fecha de publicación: 13 de septiembre de 2022

Mi publicación más popular de 2022

About Dracula Daily..

I know I am constantly saying this but...I am in TEARS about how much people are enjoying Dracula for the first time. It is one of my favourite novels of all times, I have read it three times and a half (I am counting Dracula Daily as the Fourth) and I usually having such a hard time trying to convince people about how AMAZING this(these) story(ies) is(are).

Fuck, whoever began Dracula Daily...I owe you my soul (and, please, we should do this with more classical pieces of literature)

Also, for today’s update:  Farewell dear Captain, you will be remembered

247 notas. Fecha de publicación: 4 de agosto de 2022

Descubre tu resumen del 2022 en Tumblr →

[lottie-blr]

birthday ko kahapon (April 15) at 29 yo na ako. o my g malapit na ako malaglag sa calendar. AHHAHAHAH

sa office namin, may pa cake and pa flower. pakulo kasi yun ng bago naming hr. ang awkward lang kasi sa may 2 na ako mag 6 mos ang plan ko na nga mag resign na hindi na tanggapin yung regularization ek ek na yan. nung mga nakaraang araw ko pa kasi pinaghahandaan yung mga sasabihin ko na hindi ako magtutunog mayabang, o makaka offend. pero at some point, maooffend naman talaga sila sa mga sasabihin ko. saka ito ay based lang sa experience and nararamdaman ko. ayoko namang mag stay kahit na halata naman sa isip ko na hindi na niya kaya. sabi ko nga ang pangit naman if tanggapin ko maging regular tas sasabihin ko nanaman na AYAW KO NA dibaa.

ayon, pinoproblema ko yung mga sasabihin ko don kapag kinausap ako dahil mabilis nalang ang araw ha. tas nagbigay pa sila ng ganon sa bday ko. ano yon, para hindi na ako umalis? lol. buo na po ang desisyon ko.

saka feeling ko naabuso ako guys :(

gusto ko lang din na maging eye opener yung mga sasabihin ko sakanila at hindi nila gawin sa iba. pano kapag may kakilala sa DOLE yung ginanon nila next time? lagot sila. diba? haynako.

goodluck sakin sa may 2 guys.