#and because the rain literally and metaphorically never stops.

[divorcemotif]

"oh hey a real person followed me, I should look at their blog"

soon

"...perhaps I should listen to Eskew."

oh boy you caught my blog after an exciting weekend lmao

I absolutely recommend eskew! I don't have a lot of coherent thoughts, since I got into it over a very physically and mentally draining summer job and have yet to relisten, but it left an impression for sure. I will say what there is of an overarching narrative felt a bit jolty to me in places, for lack of a better term— I think you get the vibe of a show that’s figuring itself out somewhat as it goes, however the ideas are very interesting and I could make a long list of moments that really really affected me. my recent posts probably give a good sense of what I liked most abt it; david ward is just. endlessly interesting as a character imo. the writing’s good— there's a kind of.. ironically humorous edge to a lot of my favourite episodes, something I’d have to relisten to properly articulate. there's a tic of referring to one-off characters by a title instead of a name— the correspondence editor, the architect, the witness— that scratches something in my brain. in contrast with the slimy fleshiness of much of the horror, the sound design is just nice, actually— the rain never stops in eskew and the tone of the narration stays pretty level no matter what’s being described. there are only two narrators and I found both of their voices pleasant enough to close my eyes to on the subway after a long day. very solid show

#ask #eskew #I don’t usually post this much abt eskew but that jonathan sims vs david ward most sopping wet podcast man poll awakened smth in me . #got me itching to write like 1000 words abt how it’s ultimately an unfair comparison #but I havent listened to either podcast in A While so I don’t trust myself to be like. right. abt anything #I’ll just say. #eskew has its narrator in the middle of the horror right off the bat. it’s more immediately immersive and far less grounded— #early episodes you have rlly no guarantee that anything david is perceiving is real or what ‘real’ even means within the rules of his world. #even later on it’s p ambiguous how many of the people he interacts with are actually people and this uncertainty gets exploited a lot #basically. in tma the world looks broadly like our own and is being affected by outside forces where in eskew the setting IS the horror #if I were writing an essay abt this I might make it abt the ways each show plays w humour and absurdity— #the caricature of jon’s initial presentation is a grounding force at the start #where eskew consistently uses absurdity to unground you and keep you uncertain #ofc the initial security to this divide between jon and the statements gradually dissolves #but tma just has a lot more structure the whole time w both the epistolary kind of format and the world.eskew gets. abstract . #what I’m saying is david is infinitely wetter and more miserable bc his story both requires and allows for it. tonally. #and because the rain literally and metaphorically never stops. #david never gets a fucking break even when he gets a fucking break bc he can never KNOW if he’s really getting a fucking break #or if the city that loves him soso much is about to turn on him #(also hes far more chaotic morally I think on account of just being. further out of touch). #at least tma has enough supporting characters who are definitively real people by the rules of its universe #for you to have found family expectations it can repeatedly subvert. #david is a half drowned rat. #. however jonathan sims has more fans and could never lose 😔

[ellestra]

Paul Muad'Dib Usul

Dune Part 2 had more changes to the story than Part 1. It's not just omitting stuff for the sake of time but also changing the roles of many prominent characters. On one hand I understand why it feels like changing the story and characters. I felt it too watching - especially with Jessica and Chani becoming so different.

But on the other I feel it makes final message clearer. There are so many people who mistake this for a hero's story. This is why the white saviour phrase is so often thrown around. I feel like this version of the ending makes it very clear that is in not what Paul becomes.

It makes it sadder too since we see him try to avoid this and just be part of his new home. But the weight of expectations of so many people leave very limited options - from the believers and Jessica to his old life and Gurney Halleck - they all push for what they want him to be so they can get their fight and their revenge. And none of them is interested in the cost. Just like Stilgar they see the opportunities to get what they want and ignore everything else (which really is so common in wars it's not surprising even 20 000 more years in the future nothing changes). So Paul is left with only two options - it's either swim with the current and keep some control over where it takes him or go against it and drown.

It is of course magnified by the other side doing all they can to stack the deck for themselves so it's either victory or annihilation. And trying to pull the rains out of the hands of forces controlling the universe is never not bloody.

Reverend Mother Mohiam admits here directly that Bene Gesserit didn't just want a Kwisatz Haderach. They wanted one they could control. Just like they planted religions to control the populaces of countless worlds. But this kind of manipulation is easy to get out of hand when infighting happens and in the end not even chosen one can chose how it ends.

Even knowing the truth doesn't stop it. Even knowing what will happen doesn't stop it. Avalanche of history only stops at the bottom and you can only hope not to be one buried by it. But you can still judge those who started it.

The parts under the cut are bit more spoilery (about spice and controlling the universe)

So I don't necessarily disagree with the changes. Like I understand why Alia the way she is in books wouldn't really work. And I certainly get why they cut Count Fenrig. But there is one thing I wish they did leave - the Space Guild confrontation. Because this is missing important part of the message - the person who rules the Empire isn't the Emperor but the one who controls spice. Paul taking the title is just a formality.

Spice has always been the clear metaphor for oil. Spice is what allows for space travel and without it world become stranded alone. People are literally addicted to it and its life prolonging properties. Who controls the Spice controls the universe. And the person who can destroy something controls it. And this means there is no stopping the jihad. No bombing Arrakis from space. No travel ban on Fremen from Spacing Guild.

This allows Paul to destroy the old balance of power. He controls it all but he only does it through fulfilling other people expectations of who he is. And that means he becomes figurehead of a holy war. Those who helped him win now awaiting their rewards in blood for all that was done to them.

#paul atreides #paul muad'dib #muad'dib #usul #lady jessica #jessica atreides #chani kynes #chani #gurney halleck #stilgar #bene gesserit #kwisatz haderach #reverend mother gaius helen mohiam #fremen #arrakis #dune #dune part two #dune part 2 #dune 2024

[youryanderedaddy]

tw: female reader, sadism/emotional torture, death threats, talk of death, degradation, Adamverse again (i am literally obsessed with his emo ass no joke)

You don’t know exactly what you did wrong. Maybe it’s because the dinner was just slightly less crispy than he likes, maybe it took you just one second too long to return his kiss - or maybe he just felt like torturing you - sometimes he got into these weird, sadistic moods, and you could never tell exactly where you had messed up. And you wish you did - oh how you wish he would tell you straight up, so you would be able to avoid the pain in future; alas that would never happen. Why would he let you in on the secret, why would he make the rules known if he has so much fun with you once you inevitably break them? He doesn’t need a reason to hurt you, because he already owns you, but sometimes he likes to have one; just so you’d blame yourself a bit more - just so you’d ask yourself what you could do better next time.

All you know now is that he’s mad, red - hot fury plastered all over his thin pale face. His expression, already deadly and hostile, at this moment looks simply demonic. All you know now is that he’s gripping your wrist and sinking his sharp nails as deep into your prickled skin as possible while dragging you somewhere unknown. Somewhere deep within the forest. 

You take in the smell of cold, fresh rain as your naked feet splash into the soaking grass, leaving a muddy trail behind. The forest feels alive - living and breathing into the early winter, the earthy scent of wet wood and linden heavy in the air. It’s breathtakingly beautiful, all this green scenery, even the icy air filling your lungs and the silent song of the sparrows left to die in the cold. You’re trying to appreciate this short moment of peace and quiet, of finally feeling the earth beneath you for the first time in what feels like years, but you just can’t ignore the biting, freezing chill that wraps around your body like a coat woven by Death herself. 

You’re wearing nothing but a flimsy white nightgown that sticks to your body, pretty and way too long it drags against the damp soil, sullying the beautiful lace. It’s almost funny, you think. The delicate fabric seems red under the soft moonlight - like blood, and it makes you feel like some fucked up fairytail metaphor of a princess, a trembling virgin waiting to be deflowered by the beast. But this can’t be further from the truth - there is nothing left for him to take.

Adam stops suddenly, making you trip and swing towards him - but instead of catching you, he pushes you to the side.

“Watch your step.” He hisses through gritted teeth, once again reaching to grab your hand. “We’re almost there. If you don’t want me to leave you to the wolves, you better keep up.” He adds, resuming his quick step ahead. Somewhere in your rational mind you know he’s just trying to scare you into walking faster - there is no way there are wolves this far up north, and even if there were, he would never let them hurt you. Would he?

“Alright. We’ve arrived.” The man stops after a while, letting go of you. You turn to look at him, eyes full of confusion. You’re in the middle of nowhere. There is nothing here aside from a few bushes and a big hole covered in dry leaves. “What is–”

“This will be your grave.” He interrupts you before you can even question him, gesturing to the wide open pit as he shoves you closer to the edge - so close you’re staring at the pitch black void that awaits you at the other side. You freeze in your place, unable to move an inch, cold sweat running down your back. 

You’ve pictured this night countless times before - the night when you finally die. Somehow you imagined it would be different; a lot less romantic. You thought your heart would stop due to the constant stress and paranoia, or Adam would squeeze your throat just a bit too tight - your face would get just a touch too purple and you’d kick the bucket. He’d force his length down your throat and you’d choke on your own vomit, or he would simply beat you up so badly you wouldn’t wake up the next morning. You never thought your end would be so picturesque - wearing a beautiful, sensual robe under the moonlight, slowly bleeding out as the sun rises over your cold, unmoving form. He’d probably kiss your dead lips and hold your hand too. 

No. You can’t let this happen. You don’t want this to happen. He doesn’t get to decide whether your death is pretty, ugly or fucking gruesome, whether your guts stick out for the world to see. You can’t let yourself die beautifully. You can’t let him see himself as some romantic gothic hero from the old books. He has to be the grim reaper, he has to realize he’s nothing more than a sadistic, lonely creep with vengeance and a sick fascination for blood that just happened to be yours.

“Are you going to kill me?” You whisper, voice as smooth as you can force it to be. You can’t let him know you’re scared. His eyes, so far sharp and calculated, suddenly narrow with a crazed glint - and he takes a step towards you, wrapping his hands around your waist. You can feel his weight resting against your body, a clear signal that one wrong move and you will both slip down the drain. “Maybe I will.” Adam leans in just slightly to whisper in your ear, chuckling at the way your shoulders stiffen completely - fists clenched to remain balanced. “Maybe I won’t.” His hot breath hits the freezing skin of your neck, but instead of another human’s warmth, all you feel is ice - cold fear. “It doesn’t really matter.”

“You fucking asshole–” You hiss inaudibly, small angry tears forming in your eyes. You can swear you’re not angry - or at least you shouldn’t be. One can only be angry when their expectations are being met - you should know better than anyone what the man is capable of. Yet somewhere far inside you still find the courage, the patience to feel rage, to feel cheated; tricked. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter? It’s my fucking life on–” Your sentence gets cut off by the deep guttural sobs tearing off from deep within your lungs. If you weren’t a second away from falling into your literal grave, you’d be beating at his chest right now with all the energy you have left - which isn’t a lot, but you’d give it your damn best.

“Shh, baby, it’s alright.” Your captor wraps his arms around you, breathing in your sweetness mixed in with the rain and the light earthy scent of the forest. For a second he can imagine laying you on the wet soil, not even shoving you down like usual, just gently pushing your body deeper and deeper into the mud until all that’s left unburied is your lips. “You always say you want to die, don’t you? I mean, you obviously seem to think that being with me is a fate worse than death.” He slaps on a big taunting smile, and you can’t decide if it makes you scared or furious. “So what’s different now?”

You inhale slowly.

“You-you–!” You feel your cheeks heat up with ire as your whole body prepares to attack the very source of all these complicated feelings, when… Nothing. Your fists can’t reach him, nor can your poisonous words break his heart for the second time. You’ve slipped into the world of the dead, somewhere far away. It’s darker than the winter night and more quiet than you had anticipated Hell would be - the only thing you hear is your own shallow heartbeat.

“Look at what you did, you stupid girl.” Someone pulls you back into the human realm, forcing you to open your eyes. “You’re fucking pathetic, you know that?” The voice sneers with the same old malice you can recognise even with your hands covering your ringing ears - so you must still be alive. Or maybe people are right, and Hell is on here on earth. “Scared of life, yet terrified of death.” Adam keeps mocking you, stepping closer to the pit so he can see exactly how pitiful you look, squirming in the dirt. “Also fucking clumsy at that. You know, I was just teasing you, but you really went and got yourself into that filthy hole. Just how useless can you be.”

You gulp, your dry throat straining against your tonsils. You’re alive - and you’ve made a fool of yourself just like always. Sometimes you wonder if you only exist to entertain Adam, if the whole reason for your being is one big excuse for him to hurt you until whatever is haunting him goes away. Yet it never does, and you’re not sure which of you is more pitiful.

“P-please…” You whimper weakly. You’re not sure what you’re even begging him for - to stop talking, to go away or to help you get out of this black, bottomless pit. You’re so cold, so wet - you just want to go home, although… Maybe your home doesn’t exist anymore.

“I can’t hear you, sweetheart. Speak louder.” The man coos, his shadow towering over you in a cruel reminder that even in death he’d still follow, somehow. “Do you need a hand? You’d have to be more convincing than that if you want me to help you, baby. Why should I waste my time saving a woman who doesn’t even love me?”

Your stomach turns, you’ve been here before. It’s a trap question - whatever you say, it’d still be the wrong answer, because with Adam there are no right answers. There is only suffering and dread over and over again until you’re both old and decaying in your own filth somewhere in the basement of his late mother’s cottage, surrounded by rats just waiting to feast on your flesh once your hearts finally stop. And even then you’d know no peace - he’d probably find you in Hell. You’ve been sharing his pain for too long, whether you like it or not, whether you love him or not, you can’t deny your souls are tied, glued together with blood and bile and sweat and tears.

“Please stop playing around, Adam. Just get me out of here, okay?” You make your voice small and whiny, just the way he likes it to be when you plead with him. Part of you is fighting against the survival instinct to snap into pure submission - to promise him anything and everything, because you will, and then what? He’d take you home, he’d be sugary sweet for the next two days, approximately, before you inevitably fuck up again. It’s all pointless. This love of his is nothing more than an exercise of nihilism - you’re just unsure why he feels the need to drag you along.

“You’re just hopeless without me, aren’t you?” He says rather softly, recognising the clear retaliation in your tone. Then he jumps down the pit, landing on his two feet like a panther - like he had rehearsed for this moment alone. It goes as usual. He stretches his hand towards you. You take a quick look at him. You reach in, just barely hanging on. Fingers hovering under his clenched fist. Shivering. He kisses your wrist. Standing up slowly. You’re dizzy. He wipes the mud off your face. Headache. Your chest tightens. 

And he gets to hold your hand and carry you away as the sun approaches, bright and blinding under the clouds just like a bloody fucking fairytale. 

#yandere #yancore #male yandere #male yandere x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere x you #yandere male x reader #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader

[wolffoxnation2]

The Cupid scene but make it unrequited? Valgrace

Meant to finish this yesterday but couldn't get it done in time so heres it now. I'm not completly happy with it but im just glad its done.

-------

"You cannot lie to Cupid, Leo Valdez. If you let your shame and sadness rule you...well, your fate will be even sadder than mine," Favonius said, and Leo could have sworn there was pity in his eyes before the god disappeared in the wind.

Leo felt like he was back in Khione's ice palace. There was no way this wind god he just met knew his deepest, darkest, never-to-be-said-out-loud feelings. Right?.

Right?.

No, he must be talking about something else, and Leo is just being stupid and paranoid. He has to be.

Fortunately, or, more unfortunately, Leo didn't have the time to dwell on the ominous words of wind gods.

Because the ground was shaking. Why was the ground shaking?

So. A voice said.

Something zipped past his face and nicked his ear, throwing him off his feet and into Jason. Pain blossomed in his right ear, and he was pretty sure he was bleeding.

"You okay?" Jason asked, catching him in his strong arms.

Leo winced, holding a hand to his injured ear as he scrambled to his feet, trying not to think about the fact he just fell in Jason's arms. "Yeah, I'm good," he muttered.

You come to claim the sceptre. The voice said behind them, more like stating rather than asking.

Leo turned to where the voice was coming from, but no one was there.

"Cupid!" Jason called, standing at Leo's back with his sword drawn, "Where are you?".

The voice—Cupid laughed. It definitely did not sound like it belonged to a sweet baby angel's. It sounded rich and velvety but also threatening— like an ember in a fire before burning a house to the ground.

Where you least expect me. Cupid answered, As love usually is.

Leo's heart skipped a beat as something invisible slammed into Jason and hurled him across the street. He toppled down a set of concrete steps and sprawled on the floor of an excavated Roman basement.

I thought you'd know better, Jason. Cupid's voice circled overhead like a vulture. You've found true love after all. Or do you still doubt yourself?

"Jason!" Leo screamed, scrambling down the steps.

Jason took his hand and got to his feet. "I'm okay! Just sucker punched by an angel."

Oh, Did you expect me to play fair? Cupid laughed. Make no mistake; I am no angel, Jason Grace. I am Love. I am never fair. 

Oh boy, do I know that. Leo thought dryly before Jason swept him off his feet.

Literally not...not metaphorically.

Leo was swept into Jason's chest as Jason intercepted an arrow that would have gone straight into Leo's chest with his sword. The arrow exploded against the nearest wall, giving them a nice limestone shower.

Of course, Jason wasn't done giving Leo butterflies in his stomach and grabbed his hand, pulling him up the steps and behind another wall as another arrow rained down on them, shattering a column nearby into a thousand pieces.

"Is this guy Love or Death?" Jason growled, still holding Leo's hand.

Thanatos and I are often not so different. Cupid said from somewhere above, except Death is usually kinder.

Leo understood that more than he should: Death is just...well, death. The End. Just boom, you're dead! No more pain. No more problems. And if you're lucky, you get to chill in Elysium for eternity. 

While Love is...terrifying: It hurts, sometimes it doesn't last long, and some just don't get it (cough cough).

"We just want the sceptre!" Jason shouted, poking his head above the stone wall. "We're trying to stop Gaia! Are you on the gods' side or not?"

A second arrow shot at the air dangerously close to Jason's head, landing on the ground near Leo's feet and glowing white-hot. 

The arrow's temperature shot past 2,397 F (Hephaestus power.) before combusting into a geyser of flame. 

Love is on every side. Cupid said. "And no one's side. Don't ask what Love can do for you.

"Great," Jason said. "Now he's spouting greeting cards as well as trying to kill us."

"It's official. Queen was right; Too much Love kills you," Leo joked. If Love is gonna kill him in the end, then at least he wants to make Jason laugh before they both die.

Leo caught a ghost of a smile on Jason's lips before another arrow landed between them, ruining the moment.

You can't hide from Love. It will always find you no matter what. Cupid's voice said nearby.

Leo's hair sparked; the idea of burning the feathers off that smug, overgrown chicken's wings was getting more and more enticing. He knew Cupid was toying with them, enjoying their discomfort as he shot his stupid arrows.

Another arrow narrowly missed him, and something inside of him snapped.

He snatched the arrow up and threw it back where it came from. "Enough games, show yourself!"

Lucky for him, he had good aim. The arrow hit something and hung in the air for a moment before dissolving, leaving no trace: not even a spot of ichor that could help pinpoint his location.

"...Very good, Leo," Cupid said, though it was strained. There wasn't a wound, but it must have hurt. "At least you can sense my presence. Even getting a glance at true love is more than most Heroes manage. Maybe there's hope for you after all".

"So we get the sceptre?" Jason asked.

Cupid laughed. Leo was seriously getting sick of that laugh.

Oh no, there is still much you can do for me.

Jason started to speak, "But—"

An arrow shot through the air, zipping past Jason and hitting Leo square in the shoulder.

"Leo!"

There was a burst of pain in Leo's right shoulder, and suddenly, he was back at the Wilderness School again.

He had just met this cool guy, Jason. He was also a foster kid like him. Jason seemed too good for a school like this. He wouldn't tell him and Piper what he was here for, just that his case worker, Juna— Juno or something — sent him here.

Piper told him later on that she thought Jason was kinda hot.

Leo thought so too but he didn't tell her that. 

Another arrow hit him in the back this time. 

He wasn't sure when Piper and Jason started dating; it had only felt like a day had passed since they met.

He pretended it didn't hurt.

He didn't dare ruin their happiness.

So he just smiled and bared it every time they flirted with each other and told jokes every time they kissed.

"Stop it!" Leo shrieked, "None of it was real! Hera faked everything!"

Not everything, Cupid said softly, and a third arrow dug into his skin.

This time he was on their first quest in Boreas's ice palace.

Khione told them he couldn't come with them to see Boreas because of his fire.

He played it off that he wasn't hurt about it, even though it did. It wasn't the first or last time someone was scared of him.

Jason tried to defend him at first with his hand on Leo's shoulder, which only made him love him more.

And it sting more when Jason walked away holding hands with Piper, leaving him alone with Cal.

It was fine. None of it was real, not even his feelings were, and even if they were, it's not like he could act on them. He was just the funny guy, the mechanic, the seventh wheel. He wasn't supposed to fall for his male best friend, who was already dating his other best friend. He wasn't supposed to want something more than friendship with Jason.

He bit back the tears that were already threatening to fall. The grass at his feet was starting to smoke. "Show yourself!" He screamed.

It is a costly thing, Cupid said, looking on the true face of Love.

Another column shattered. Jason barely scrambled out of its way in time.

My wife Psyche learned that lesson, Cupid said, She was brought here aeons ago when this was the site of my palace. We only met in the dark. She was warned to never look upon me, and yet she could not stand the mystery. She feared I was a monster. One night, she lit a candle and beheld my face as I slept.

Jason said something, but Leo couldn't hear him over the sound of his own heart pounding in his chest. He could still somehow hear Cupid though. Of course, Love was the only thing he could hear other than his heart.

Cupid laughed from somewhere at the edge of the Amphitheater. I was too handsome, actually. A mortal can't look upon a god's true appearance without suffering grave consequences; just look at poor Semele. My mother, Aphrodite, cursed Psyche for her distrust. My poor lover was tormented, forced into exile and given impossible tasks to prove herself. She was even sent to the underworld on a quest to show her dedication. She earned her way back to me, but she suffered greatly.

Leo had no clue what he was talking about, but it sounded like he was a terrible husband.

Jason thrust his sword into the sky like he was a demigod He-man and was about to yell, 'By the power of Jupiter!' and beat up Cupid.

Unfortunately, he did not do that. 

Instead, the ground shook, and lightning blasted a crater where Cupid's voice was coming from.

There was silence, and for a moment Leo thought it was over and that they could get the sceptre and leave. And hopefully, never speak of this day again.

Leo should have known they were never that lucky.

An invisible force—Cupid, knocked Jason to the ground, sending his sword skittering across the road.

A good try, Cupid said, his voice already distant. But love isn't so easily pinned down.

A wall collapsed, Jason barely managed to roll out of the way.

That was enough for Leo.

"Hey!" Leo yelled, waving his arms around. "It's me you want! Not him!. Leave him alone!"

Poor Leo Valdez. The god's voice was patronizing and tinged with disappointment. Do you really know what You want, much less what I want? My beloved Psyche risked everything in the name of Love to win my trust back. And you — what have You risked in my name?

"I'm literally saving the world!" He yelled, clenching his fists, "I've faced way worse! You don't scare me!"

I scare you very, very much. Face me. Be honest.

Jason struggled to get up off the ground, and a piece of Leo's heart broke. This was all his fault. He knew exactly what Cupid wanted. But he didn't want to admit it just yet.

All around Leo, the ground started to heat up. Grass smoked, and stones steamed.

"Give us Diocletian's sceptre." He said, trying to put his best brave face on. "We don't have time for games."

Games? Leo's breath was knocked away as a hand slapped him sideways into a granite pedestal. Love is no game! It is no flowery softness! It is hard work — a quest that never ends. It demands everything you have — especially honesty. Only then does it rewards.

Pain blosomed from Leo's...everywhere. His head spun from the pain, and the ground started to heat up more. Stones were starting to crack, and the grass was starting to spark. All it would take was one more push, and everything would burn.

Jason was up now and had retrieved his sword, "Leo!" he called, "What does this guy want from you?".

Leo's lip trembled. Everything was going so wrong. He didn't want to admit it. He didn't want to tell Jason. "I don't know!" He yelled back, and an arrow embedded itself in the pedestal, inches away from Leo's face.

Tell him, Leo Valdez, Cupid ordered. His voice was starting to get less patient now. Tell him you're a coward, that you're afraid of yourself and your feelings. Tell him why you hide among your machines like your father. Tell him the real reason you run and why you're always alone.

Leo gritted his teeth, his entire body trembling with pain and frustration. Cupid's words cut through him like a knife, exposing the raw truth that he had been desperately trying to bury.

The grass started to burn and the stone's cracks got bigger.

"I... I can't," Leo stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I can't tell him."

Cupid's laughter echoed around them, mocking and cruel. "You see, Jason Grace? Your friend is afraid. Afraid of his own feelings, afraid of the truth. He hides behind his jokes and his bravado, but deep down, he knows."

Leo let loose a guttural scream, and like a volcano erupting; everything exploded at once.

Magma burst from the rocks, splitting them wide open. The grass combusted into green flames — Greek fire —he really is going to burn everything down.

"H—haaa"

Leo laughed through the tears. It was really all he could do and all he really ever did. It was funny really; he'd worked so hard to shove everything down, yet it was all destroyed in a fiery explosion in less than an hour.

A nearby tree collapsed dangerously close to Jason as the fire consumed it. "Leo! What is he talking about?" He almost couldn't hear his voice over the fire.

Will you hide forever, Leo Valdez? Cupid taunted, who unfortunately can still be heard because not even fire can shut him up. Will you let fear rule your heart, or will you finally have the courage to face the truth?

He didn't want to face the truth. He was too scared of what would happen. What might Jason say. How he'd react.

He just wanted to keep things the same.

Even if it kills him.?

Leo sobbed, and the flames burned brighter. If this was love then he didn't want it. Or maybe if love was this painful then he deserved it. Another arrow pierced his back—or maybe that was the feeling of his heart breaking more—and more images flashed through his mind.

He was back on that mountain in Colorado. Jason had his arms around Piper, his face scrunched up in concern. Leo pretended it didn't bother him. It was cold, and Piper ended up getting hyperthermia. He had tried to ignore the aching in his chest. He didn't want to think about how much he wanted to be in her place.

After their quest, they left him alone while he worked on the Argo II. He named it after the ship the first Jason sailed on.

It was all for Jason.

He was back on the Argo right after he had fired on New Rome—Jason's home. Everyone was angry with him, and Jason was in the infirmary; some asshole threw a brick at his head. 

He didn't go down to him. He couldn't face Jason.

It was all his fault.

Jason got hurt because of him.

And he didn't even have the guts to face him.

There were more scenes like this flooding his senses. At some point, his brain switched off, and he was just drowning in agony. He couldn't move or speak.

He was weak.

Meanwhile, the flames grew to an inferno of green and reds, drowning out everything. Leo's hair was a white flame. An outline of wings caught fire for a moment before being put out again.

"Interesting!" Cupid's voice said from somewhere above. Do you have strength after all?

"I...I can't," Leo said, though it sounded more like a whimper. He was on his knees now. 

Heh, too weak to admit your feelings and too weak to stand, his mind mocked in Cupid's voice.

Still hiding, Cupid said above, a flame burned an outline of a wing tip before going out again. You do not have the strength.

Leo sobbed. He really was weak. He was going to burn everything down just because he didn't want to admit his feelings.

"Leo" Jason yelled from somewhere. "It's okay! I get it!"

Leo stared at the burning grass below him. It was too hot for tears to fall. Only steam came from his eyes. 

"No, you don't," He said defeatedly. Jason didn't understand. He couldn't understand. If he understood, then he wouldn't be so nice to Leo. "There's no way you understand. If you did you'd hate me".

And so you run away again, Cupid chided, From yourself, from your feelings, and from your friends.

The fire had engulfed Cupid's wings now. But the god laughed cruelly and blew it away.

"Leave him alone Cupid," Jason croaked somewhere. "This isn't your..."

Oh gods, he was hurting Jason again. The smoke is choking him.

Cupid's laugh echoed from above the flames. But oh, it is exactly my business, Jason Grace. Love is me. I am love.

"Leo!" Jason choked out through the smoke.

Oh, you're killing him, you're killing him. Leo's brain screamed. You're a monster, you're such a fucking monster, and you're weak.

"Look, I don't care if you're in love with Piper!" 

He doesn't understand. He doesn't. He doesn't. Leo's brain screamed over and over again.

Cupid laughed again, and Leo's will broke.

"I—I'm not in love with Piper," Leo said, and everything seemed to go silent.

The fire subsided and all of Leo's fight and denial went out at once.

Cupid circled Leo like a shark. His form was visible now—long blond hair, muscular in a simple white frock and jeans, snowy white wings that were singed at the tips. The bow and quiver slung over his shoulder were weapons of war—not toys. His eyes were as red as blood, as if every heart in the world was broken and squeezed dry into one poisonous mixture.

Leo vaguely recalled that some think that Eros was a son of Ares and Aphrodite. And he could see why:

Love and War were the most painful things in the world.

He gestured for Leo to continue.

"I have a crush on you, Jason." Leo said.

The fire died down so Leo could see Jason's face.

And he swore he saw pity in his eyes.

The End

#heros of olympus #pjo headcanons #pjo #leo valdez #percy jackson heroes of olympus #pjo jason grace #jason grace #valgrace #Pjo cupid #Writing #Wolffox's writing #percy jackson #pjo leo valdez #piper mclean #only mentioned tho #pjo fanfic

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

Hello,

Is there any way you could translate Samatoki's newest solo, Rinka/Blue Flame? I've been looking for a translation everywhere, but cannot seem to find one.

Best regards and thank you very much.

Oh my God I am desperate slug-san, please please pleaaasee tell me you know where to find a translation of Samatoki's Rinka/Blue Flame!! OTL I was so surprised a translator wasn't already linked in the wiki which is where I usually look first & then I couldn't find anything by searching on twitter or google or tumblr and I just really wanna know what his song is about!! T°T I can't believe I found a translation of Honobono's song but not of Samatoki's song?? I must be doing sth wrong.. Help :')

Hey slug-san! A follow-up of the Rinka/Blue Flame message. I've searched some more, and I think there's actually no translation of it so far anywhere.. T~T Would you be willing to translate it? A standard/literal translation with a lil clean-up like you did with Akuma no Hana would be totally alright!! Thank you so much for giving us the opportunity to engage with Hypmic in a way the official creators haven't made possible yet! :D <3

Sure. Under a cut for length.

I'm running at a speed faster than grief, going so fast I leave even the smallest bad feelings behind me. I spit on my dead-end future, spit in the dirty puddles. Now I'm clinging to the guardrail, tears tracing scribbled lines down my cheeks. I bet it looks pretty comical. C'mon, laugh at me, why don't you? Let's start somewhere around the unhappy ending. Why not? Works for me. The clear, blue sky waits for sunset; but to hell with that. I don't need that crap! Let's do whatever we damn well please, here in this vacant city. Just the thought of them makes me light up a cigarette. Look, I don't wanna tell people we gotta fight each other to get what we want. I just think we have to, because there's things out there that're worth keeping safe. There's a stray dog baying at the rain streaking down the glass, and that SOB won't shut up. Hey, fuck your umbrella. Who needs that kinda crap? Throw it away and let the rain drench you too. The beat's entrenched in my soul, a stupid requiem for this unfair world we live in, lying on its sickbed. C'mon, get in there and pay your respects to it. You don't have the time to sit around feeling sorry for yourself. You know lashing out's the answer, right? You'll be okay. And I'm not gonna tell you you're running from your responsibilities. So c'mon. Quit your sniveling and come ride with me. The brakes don't work; those emotions never get any slower. And we're burning ourselves out, but don't let that stop you from coming along with me for the ride. Ride with me through thick and thin. Ride with me all the way to the grave.

A few final notes:

Sunset is a metaphor for melancholy. When Samatoki rejects that in the third verse, he's rejecting sitting through his feelings of loss. He uses this image again later in the line I wrote as "sit around feeling sorry for yourself."

The gender and plurality of the "them" Samatoki thinks about isn't specified. While it's most likely referring to his family, the verse immediately afterward sounds like a direct reference to Ichirou and Samatoki battling to save their siblings in the TDD breakup.

"We're burning ourselves out" could also be written like "We're burning ourselves down to ash" which connects with the cigarette image.

Given the prevalence of stray dogs in hardboiled/yakuza fiction and their recurrence as an image in Samatoki's other raps, the stray dog should be understood to be Samatoki himself.

#hypmic translations

[hey-hamlet]

If you still have free prompts:

Izuku rediscovers magic and uses it to become hero

Izuku was falling.

Not metaphorically, but very literally falling from a terrifying height. Mizuchi had said it was tradition for a dragon's first flight but Mizuchi had been laughing at the way his face had paled when he'd plucked him off his back with his too-large teeth. Izuku was never trusting the river dragon again.

Against his better instincts, he closed his eyes, reaching inwards to his magic. It was about as panicked as he was, bubbling like a pot about to boil over. He didn't bother trying to calm it, he was kind of on a time crunch. Mizuchi didn't mean to kill him, but the dragon had a terrible idea of what killed a mortal and Izuku wasn't sure he'd ever covered 'falling from the cloud layer to the very hard ground below'.

The air whipping past him lashed at his clothes and sting his bare skin. A very harsh reminder he needed to figure this out before the ground hit him a whole lot harder.

Forcibly clearing his mind, Izuku focused on Mizuchi's instructions. He siphoned some of the bubbling panic in his chest through his system, twisting it's shape from panic-terror-annoyance to control-light-air. It was a weird shape, Izuku's magic naturally sat quite happily in what Kiyohime had described as sunlight-steady-growth, a much more earth natured leaning than anything that should be able to fly.

He'd never been fond of doing what he was meant to.

He wind felt softer, the sinking feeling in his bones was less, but izuku wasn't in control yet. He was still falling. He plastered an All Might grin on his cheeks, took that borrowed joy and pushed.

He cracked open an eye. The noise of jibbering panic that left his mouth as he reached out and touched a leaf of the tree he'd almost crashed into was something he wasn't proud of, but felt was understandable, given the circumstances.

Mizuchi's snort of laugher from above him had him narrowing his eyes. "Not bad for a mortal, I was worried I'd need to drop you again."

"Mizuchi!" Izuku wailed, flexing the magic that was granted him the ability to not die via horrific blunt force impact. "This kills humans! You wouldn't have dropped me twice because I could have been a pancake!" He dragon huffed a laugh as Izuku rained whaled on his massive snout, thick scales stopping his smacks from feeling like anything more than love taps.

"It worked didn't it?"

Izuku's eyes narrowed. "I'm telling Kiyohime."

A dragon couldn't pale in fear but Izuku discovered it could get pretty close.

#mizuchi is a water spirit dragon #well the dragon part is actually debated mythologically but #hes a dragon here #asks #bnha au #birthday prompts #my fic #magic core au #kiyohime is a serpent-dragon-thing who was once a woman who got stiffed by a guy and studied magic to go eat him #which slaps

[found-family-tournament]

Found Family Tournament Round 1 Part 15 Group 74

Propaganda and further pictures under the cut

The Local Group: Five Pebbles, Looks to the Moon, No Significant Harassment, Seven Red Suns, Sliver of Straw, Gray/Chasing Winds, Unparalleled Innocence

Mods note: Just ignore Grenda and Candy.

Submissions are still open!

Wendy, Soos, Stanford, Stanley, Dipper, Mabel & Waddles:

idk i like gravity falls and also because they all helped each other i think because stanley wanted a family cause he was lonely and soos was like abandoned by his dad so he had people and wendy's dad kinda sucked so she got an outlet away from home i think idk and stanford kinda was in another dimension for a while so he needed family i think and i guess dipper and mabel didn't really need it because they have parents and a life at home but like idk i just like gravity falls

The Local Group:

They are a bunch of biomechanical supercomputers from a post society wasteland. Like, they are large enough to have cities built on top of them, but are also really tiny in the grand scheme of things(both literally and metaphorically since they have humanoid sized 'puppets' inside their structures).

The civilization that built them was Buddhist adjacent and tried to separate themselves from mortal desires, one of which was the need for companionship since they thought it would stop them from being able to ascend above the cycle of death and rebirth. Of course, this had an impact on them, but, in the storytelling of the game, the iterators often come across as more personable than the Ancients that built them. Yes, they are suffering and distant from one another physically, but they fucking love each other so much. They never tell each other it directly but the thought is there. They are siblings and despite their creators/parents abandoning them to transcend theirs world they have each other and their endless task (trying to solve the cycles). They are so mentally ill. Love them <3 Also they are so 'I'm taking you down with me, hand in unlovable hand" (In a "We're both shitty people but at least we have each other" context)

They probably won't make it into the tournament but I needed to rant about them, haha. Hope you're doing well and having fun going through these submissions tournament runner!

#tumblr polls #poll #polls #tournament poll #found family #found family tournament 2023 #tumblr tournament #tournament #Wendy #Soos #Stanford #Stanley #Dipper #Mabel #Waddles #Gravity Falls #The Local Group #Rain World #Five Pebbles #Looks to the Moon #No Significant Harassment #Seven Red Suns #Sliver of Straw #Gray #Chasing Winds #Unparalleled Innocence

[therealtruealiyah]

NOVA - enticement

Without a word, skipping a beat, or any kind of thinking at all, Raine ran toward Nova and jumped into her arms. Nova kissed her deeply, wrapping Raine's legs around her waist to secure her properly.

"I'll take that as a yes." Nova pulled back with a smirk before Raine attacked her lips with her own once more. After what seemed like an eternity of breathless, nasty, hot tongue sex, Nova set Raine back upon her feet and took a step back with a satisfied smile. Raine gasped for air, never breaking eye contact with Nova and never, ever wanting to.

"I was beginning to think you were ghosting me." Raine began.

"When we're having so much fun? Never. There were just some… things I had to take care of. You must understand that what I do will keep me away from time to time. You must be alright with that."

"What do you do?" Raine narrowed her eyes. In one swift motion, Nova came forward and leaned down so that she and Raine were at eye level.

"You. As hard as you want me to, my love." Nova growled in that sexy, low, English accent of hers. Raine was— once again— speechless, breathless and wet. So very wet. She could do nothing but stare into the eyes of her fucking maker, mouth slightly agape, drool beginning to trickle off her lips.

Nova was highly entertained.

"You were so kind as to allow me into your home... why don't you come into mine?" Nova whispered, leaning in even closer.

"O-okay." Raine's voice shook with anxiety, not knowing if that were literal or metaphoric, yet craving every bit of it.

"Are you on the schedule here for tomorrow?" Nova straightened her posture.

"Yea- uh, yes. I am."

"Not anymore." Nova's tone elevated a bit, just enough to startle Raine.

"I-I'm not?"

"You're not coming in. They can figure it out without you."

"May I ask why?"

"Because you'll be with me, my love." Nova offered her hand very shortly before Raine eagerly took it. "Make sure you lock this hellhole up on our way out, darling. Wouldn't want complete strangers wandering in."

"Yes, Nova."

______________________________________________

Raine sat in awe, braids whipping through the wind as she watched the scenery change over and over again. This was her first time in a convertible and she wanted the entire experience.

"Whoa! Is this your house?" Raine exclaimed, glitter in her eyes as they slowed to a stop in front of a gigantic modern home. Nova chuckled, pulling her clutch to park.

"No, darling. I have to make a quick drop off. Wait here." Nova instructed, hand brushing Raine's knee as she retrieved a little black pouch from the glove box. Raine could barely make out the golden lettering sewed upon it.

N.M.

N.M.? Raine thought curiously as she watched Nova disappear up the long driveway.

"I wonder what was in that pouch." Raine mumbled to herself. No more than three minutes later, Raine gaped at the wondrous sight that was Nova as she strut perfectly back toward her. What a sight it was. She hardly even noticed the thick yellow envelope in her hands.

"You ready?" Nova grinned as she slid back into the drivers seat of her '98 cherry red drop-top Chevrolet Corvette and secured her seatbelt over her beautiful torso. Nova placed the envelope in between her seat and the gearshift.

"You know my last name, but you never told me yours." Raine said without hesitation as they sped off.

"It isn’t polite to peek, Raine Jackson." Nova scolded in a firm tone.

"I-I'm sorry... I just..." Raine looked down at her hands in her lap, embarrassed.

"Morningstar." Said Nova.

"Huh?"

"My last name. It's Morningstar." She repeated matter-of-factly.

"You're fucking with me." Raine smiled, unbelieving.

"You think?" Nova cocked an eyebrow in Raine's direction, clearly enjoying this unsolicited chess match that she was definitely winning.

"Nova Morningstar..." Raine spoke it softly, as if to summon her. Not just physically, but in all ways.

"I plan on making you moan it later." Nova cut her eyes at Raine, a wicked grin splayed across her lips. "Here we are. Home sweet home."

Raine snapped out of her trance long enough to take a look around. When she did, her jaw dropped.

"No way! You live in Condos de Luxe? I heard there was a three year long waiting list to get housing in this community! How'd you...?"

"Nova does not do lists, my love." Nova spoke for herself, coming to park in the middle of an open 3-car garage.

"Who are you?" Raine's curiosity was piqued. She wanted to know. She needed to know. Who is this woman, really?

However, Raine was not nearly ready enough to find out exactly who... she... was.

#fanfic #lgbtq #lgbtq community #lucifer morningstar #smut #the sandman #wlw love #wlw #wlw smut #fantasy #gwen christie #gwendoline christie #gwendolineuniverse #larissa weems #principal weems #weems #queer #sapphic

[try-set-me-on-fire]

every moment points towards the aftermath

Ok this is literally the most self indulgent little au snippet, I’m not even putting it on ao3. They’re wrestlers. Bluff City is like Atlantic City, but weirder. You can listen here.

For awhile, in the beginning, every time Eddie meets Buck the other man has blood in his teeth.

They're in the ring, the first time, so it's hardly surprising. Eddie can taste copper, too. His tongue throbs where he bit it when Buck had dropped on him from the top rope, after a ridiculous spin he shouldn't have been able to pull off with his height. It's scripted, and Eddie tries not to be a romantic about that much later, shoving down the obvious metaphor that they were prewritten somewhere, by someone. It's scripted, Eddie wins the match but Buck steals the belt, and several other beats along the way that make the crowd scream. Eddie's not sure he's ever gone over so well, but this is also hardly surprising when he's never in his life felt more alive. The script couldn't have known the way he feels when their body's move together. When he slams Buck to the mat and their faces are inches from each other and Buck is grinning, teeth crimson and eyes so blue, Eddie feels like he's on fire, and like he'd be happy to let himself burn.

The second time - when he'd been unable to stop thinking about that night in the ring, when he'd already been in talks with Bobby Nash to bring him over to the Firehouse, maybe get a tag team going, maybe see how far they can take a good thing - they're at a bar and they didn't even come together. He's just… here. He's just here, because his house is empty, because Chris is with his parents tonight, because when he'd dropped him at the door his mother said "you can stay" in a tone that meant he really couldn't, because when he drives towards home the preacher on the radio is talking about ghosts and long distances, because he doesn't think his presence will make a difference in his house being empty, because he doesn't want to sit waiting for the phone to ring and flinching when it does. So, he's here and it's packed because it's raining, though it's the kind of place that would be packed regardless of the weather, and the crowd surges against him and Buck is dumped out of it, practically into Eddie's lap. His top lip is split and bleeding into his mouth and he's laughing as he steadies himself with a hand on Eddie's shoulder.

"Oh," he says when he gets upright enough to look at Eddie's face. "It's you." His finger swims as he points it at him, and Eddie's not sure if he's drunk, concussed, or just showy. "Eddie Diaz." The finger turns into a hand outstretched for a shake.

"Buck…" Eddie takes the hand, tilts his head. "You got another name?"

"Not really," Buck shrugs. "Yeah, a few." The crowd behind them churns again, and he says "I should get out of here," in a tone that means you could come with me.

He doesn't. He lets go of his hand, and Buck shrugs again, his smile a little… something, that Eddie doesn't know how to quantify. He takes a step backwards and the crowd swallows him whole.

The next time is the thing with the-

Well, actually between that they're in the ring together a bunch of times because instinct was right and Hotshot and Firebrand are a tag team people start coming to see, and at the celebratory team barbecues at Bobby's place Buck shares his beer with Eddie, one bottle they pass back and forth. Buck meets Christopher because Eddie's car had broken down and he was desperate not to be late picking him up from his parents, and they get on like a house on fire. Buck sleeps on his couch sometimes after matches or on weekends or whenever he feels like it, and Buck cooks meals in his unused kitchen, and Buck answers the phone when Eddie can’t make himself do it. Eddie doesn't ask what's on the other end of the line, and Buck doesn't tell him. Eddie still barely knows anything about him, doesn't know where he goes when they're not at the ring or Bobby's place or Eddie's house, if he has a job outside of wrestling or other friends or a family, but Buck still fits into his life like they have opposing ridges, a key and a lock.

And actually, that first time in the ring with the blood in the teeth is not the first time they met. They'd shook hands half an hour before, gone over the moves they were going to hit. And before that, years before that, when Eddie was still wrestling in a mask and hadn't disappointed anybody yet, he'd been in the crowd on Buck's first night up there under the lights where he'd been booked to lose but fought like hell anyway. Eddie had been there because his sister had a crush on Buck's opponent, they weren't even close to the ring, but Eddie found himself leaning forward in his seat, trying to make out the expression on his face as he was ground into the canvas.

So the timelines already fucked, but the next time after the bar, the time when he meets Evan Buckley, is the thing with the guy who had a crab for a face.

"A horseshoe crab is not technically a crab," Buck says, tilting his head back to stop the nosebleed. Eddie, helplessly, is trying to retrace steps to figure out how he got here. There was a match with stakes that didn't seem very high except for the way Bobby and Buck's eyes got tight whenever they were talking to the other federation backstage, and the desperate way Buck grabbed his arm as they were about to go out and told him "Don't take any offer they give you." And Eddie didn't know what that meant but then he was pinned to the mat and the guy, who was skinny and smelled like the ocean, was whispering in his ear about Shannon, who is gone, but sometimes the phone rings and he can hear her on the other end of the line. And the whole room was angry, Eddie and the other wrestlers and the crowd, and Eddie had fought for real, broke kayfabe, and they'd had to actually book it out the back door, Bobby nowhere to be seen, Hen and Chim waving at them from the van to hurry up, and then a tall man in a long coat had stepped out of nowhere and elbowed Buck in the face and Eddie had swung without thinking and his hand hit chitin where he'd been expecting flesh.

"They're more closely related to spiders and scorpions and stuff," Buck continues as Bobby runs up to the two of them. Three of them, Eddie supposes, the crab man is still out cold on the ground.

"Buck!" Bobby does the panicked parent pat down, frantically tapping his hands up Buck's arms and landing on either side of his head to check that he's whole and uninjured. Eddie did it himself when Chris tripped on the boardwalk the other day. It makes his chest feel tight. "You're okay? I called Athena. You're alright?"

Buck nods, eyes sliding to Eddie, and then Bobby is looking at him too. And there's a crab man, right there on the ground, and Eddie's wife is dead but calls him sometimes, and he's very dizzy all of a sudden and here is Buck, close, eyes blue.

"You've got blood," Eddie says weakly, "in your teeth."

And Eddie doesn't faint, but things do get a little fuzzy for a bit and then he's sitting at the back of the van, which is parked closer now, but angled so he cant see what's happening where they were before. He looks down at his wrestling boots on the pavement of the parking lot and thinks a reprimand in his father's voice.

"You grow up here?" Buck is next to him, tapping his toes together, gazing vaguely out into the night. Eddie looks at him, lit from behind by the overhead light in the van. "In Bluff?"

"Yeah?" Eddie's not sure why it comes out as a question.

Buck nods. "I'm from… out of town. I thought you might also- you kind of have the vibe, sometimes." He flashes a grin at Eddie, and his teeth are clean. "But maybe you're just a tight ass."

Eddie kicks him, and he laughs. "Outta town? Like Trenton?"

"Like… farther. Like Blough."

"Blue?" Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"Buckaroo." Athena is standing in front of them, suddenly, in a long coat of her own. The nickname is kind, the tone is a warning.

"Yeah," Buck says again. "I know. I trust him, though."

"It's not just you that you have to trust him with," she says like she's had to remind him of this before.

"I know," he repeats, eyes just a little stubborn, and Eddie has no idea what this argument is about but still moves his arm a little so it's in contact with Buck's. It's not difficult. They're sitting very close.

"We'll talk," Athena says after a stretched out moment. He's not sure which of the two it's directed at.

"What's going to happen with the-" Eddie gestures more or less in the direction.

"We'll take care of it."

Eddie looks up at her. "What is your… job, again?" He must have learned it, at some point, some get together. Bobby talks about his wife with admiration and frequency.

"Coast guard," she says, and for the life of him he cannot tell if it's a joke.

"Right. Because of the… right."

"Right." She stares down at him before seeming to decide he passed the assessment, and turns to Buck. "You should still lay low for a few days."

"Okay." He glances at Eddie like he's trying not to glance at Eddie.

"You can stay at my place," Eddie says, and his tone means the same.

And they'll go home and Buck will tell him his name, and about his sister, and his parents, and a little about where he came from and how he got here, and he'll talk around Bobby's role in things, and Hen and Chim, because those parts aren't his to tell but they're written all over his life anyway, and it'll all be absolutely unbelievable but Eddie will believe it anyway.

But for now they're sitting in the back of a van and their arms are warm where they're pressed together, and Buck is smiling and it's-

It's something. It's something, and Eddie wants to figure out what.

#Shannon is not dead #or well she might be #ghost was one of the options I was thinking but Inlike either she’s trapped in Blough or she’s a selkie more #Chris does talk to ghosts though I think he makes friends with Daniel #Bobby is also from Blough but he’s been here for years #Athena is high level Concern and has been covering up for him and later Buck #and then also Maddie when she crosses over #hen and Chim know everything but are bluff city originals #buddie #my writing

[childlikegoblinqueen]

Huntlow Week Day 2: Prompt Umbrella/ Under Water.

Hunter's life had begun underground. Underground in the literal sense ... because as a Grimwalker, Hunter was literally grown in the ground.

But Hunter's life had also begun "underground" metaphorically. He was the last in a long line of young men with fabricated identities who lived on borrowed time.

So when Hunter's life nearly ended underwater, he felt -- for one small sad moment that he had outpaced his design. Here he was, defying the will of his creator by sinking into the depths of a lake where he would be undone as opposed to in the ground that had given him life.

But, one year later Hunter was still very much alive.

"Still with me?" Willow whispered.

"Hmmmm." He hummed. Her voice tickled his ear and his heart sped up, and within his chest, Hunter's heart (the heart of Flapjack) fluttered reminding him that, yes indeed. Hunter was very much alive.

Outside the half window of Hunter's basement bedroom in the Noceda house, the rain had been non stop. Luz had called it a "Tropical storm" which was curious, because Hunter was sure that Connecticut was no where near the tropics.

But somehow this orphaned storm had made it's way up the coast and drenched everything around them, and if the windows outside were to be trusted, it appeared that the basement itself was not "underground" but "underwater".

Willow ran her fingers through Hunter's hair in perfect rhythm with the thick raindrops outside. His eyes fluttered closed again only to open as he felt a soft kiss drop upon his forehead. "I think I'm losing you again." Willow teased.

"Nah." Hunter snorted. "You just make me feel very --" what was that word?

Cozy? Comfortable? Warm? Relaxed?

"Safe." Hunter settled on safe. But that wasn't the only thing, was it? "You make me feel safe and also happy."

Willow giggled a bit. It wasn't the light airy giggle that Hunter had associated with his girlfriend. It held a bit of a heaviness that rivaled the raindrops outside.

"Captain?" He murmured. "Did I say something wrong?"

He opened his eyes to catch Willow's tear filled eyes from behind her round lenses.

"It's just. I did almost lose you once." Willow gave him a sad smile. "For real."

Hunter nodded. He'd almost died. No. Scratch that. Hunter had died. Camila had dragged him out from underwater where he had gone to make sure that Belos could never hurt anyone again, and Hunter's head had been laid upon Willow's lap where Flapjack had given the last of his spark of life so that Hunter could live again.

But when he had opened his eyes, he realized that there were more ways to hurt someone than Belos could even understand.

"Please, please, please, come back to me." Willow was whispering. "Please, Hunter. Don't go."

Hunter reached his hands up and gently carded his fingertips through Willow's newly cut hair. "So, so, soft." He whispered.

Willow chuckled. Placing her arms around him as she had on that evening, she pressed one hand to Hunter's heart as she peppered the sides of his face with gentle kisses, like raindrops.

Please, please, please, come back to me. Please, Hunter. Don't go.

"You're not gonna lose me again, Captain." He sighed. "I'm staying right here." Hunter opened his eyes gently guiding Willow's nose to touch his own gently then drawing her lips closer for a long loving kiss.

#toh fanfic #the owl house #toh hunter #huntlow #willow park #willow x hunter #prompt: under water #huntlow week #huntlow week 2023 #huntlow fan fic

[pool-floatie]

Tall Tales: part 7

lets goooo 💯💯🔥

Ok I love this cause its raining rn and I was writing a scene where its raining and its night and now IRL its r a i n i n g and its n i g h t it's like im a manifestation wizard you should all cower, oh by the way heres the rest of that fic i promised ya (I didnt promise you shit, this exists only because i am a merciful and kind God.)

Also lets play a little game of spot the metaphor/ hidden message!! Its pretty obvious if you know anything about literature !! Good luck!!

Avril woke to the surrounding warmth of the giants hand, giving them blissful comfort from the chill of their new surroundings. They wriggled around to get a better look. Kneeling, they peeked out of the large hand; A cave big enough to hold the giant at full height sheltered the pair from the slowing patter of rain outside, a shallow breeze blew through the large entrance, keeping the cave almost as cold as the outside. At least it was a bit less wet, they thought.

Avril felt a small twitch of Jaces' fingers; apparently, their stirring had awoken him.

They sunk down lower, making sure they wouldn't be knocked off if the giant made any sudden movements.

Big, drowsy, half lidded eyes blinked open, slowly landing on the little thing in Jaces palm.

Avril gave a tentative wave. Jace let out a small puff of air from his nose, smirking.

As cute as they were when asleep, he loved the humans shyness, though he was sure that eventally he would get them to come out of their shell, he had seen their spunk before, a real person behind the mask of fear.

"Mornin' " he sighed, stretching his free limbs out.

" .. Hi.." Av uttered quietly

Jace sat up slowly, minding the little being he held.

He sat up against the cave wall and admired his tiny companion. They were wonderful, short, blonde, ruffled hair framed their face and brown doe eyes looked up at him adorably.

" you sleep well, av ?" he asked, though he wanted to ask a more open question, it seemed the simple 'yes/no' questions were easier for them, baby steps.

" Mhmm" they replied

" Great " he sighed

Loking out of the cave jace saw that the rain had nearly stopped.

" hey, not sure if your too much of a morning person but, the suns about to rise... Did you wanna come watch?"

They thought for a moment, sure not being awake at the literal crack of dawn would be nice but...

" .. Yeah, sure"

Jace beamed

"Sweet. And, hey... I, I know I was, absolutely awful to you... Before.. I just, i guess I got carried away but I hurt you, I didnt even realise cause' ive never actually met a human" he rambled

" but I know that's not an excuse for hurting you and making you scared and being a complete dickbag, so, Avril, im Sorry. Im sorry for hurting you and im sorry that I teased you and-"

He was scilenced by a touch on his thumb.

" ... Jace, its - well its not ok, but, , well- thank you."

He hadnt even realised he was crying.

Jace smiled through teary eyes.

"No, thank /you/ for... Well for a second chance." he said

Av paused for a moment.

" yeah,,, a second chance" they said

Jaces smile grew and he wanted to hug the human through any means, but he reisisted knowing it would probably freak them out.

"Oh hey, it, uh, stopped raining..." avril said, breaking the scilence.

Stepping towards the entrance of the cave the two saw the sun begin its ascent into the new sky, lighting up the previously dreary dwelling to reveal a new side to it.

Outside the cave the rain left dewdrops on everything, turning the scene into a shimmering chandelier. It hilighted the mossy green rocks, cracked from age that sat just outside the cave, beyond lie a beautiful willow tree that framed the caves entrance. Rain dripped from its leaves and tapped a slow rythm on the ground

Pip, pip, pip.

A small breeze blew past, carrying the blooming scent of nature and rusting the willows leaves.

The birdsong slowly began to crescendo, announcing a new day to the rest of the forest and all who inhabited it.

Jace briefly looked away to see avrils reaction, they were enthralled, wide eyes taking in every gorgeous detail as they stood leaning off the side of Jaces' cupped hand trying to take in as much as they could.

" its beautiful..." they said, unable to look away lest they miss a single second of the mornings beauty.

"Amazing what nature does, you cant find this stuff anywhere else." Jace replied, equally enthralled.

" Thank you" avril said

" thank you? For what?"

Av thought for a moment.

" just.... This."

Jace smiled, he knew what they meant.

" yeah, of course."

The sun rose higher as the wind slowed and the pair continued admiring the stunning morning.

" hey, seems pretty clear now, you want to head back ?" jace asked

" yeah, sounds good" av said, plopping down into the massive plam and resting their arms on the cupped edges.

Jace began the trek back, following the river upstream.

"Hey, humans eat fish, right?" he questioned

"Uh yeah, what, you got a fishing pole my size?" av joked

"oh, much better" he hinted

Av turned and quirked a brow at the giant.

" what?" he said innocently

Av rolled their eyes, whatever awaited them would surely be an adventure.

#g/t #giant/tiny #giant #tiny #gt art #fanfic #my art #G/t hurt/comfort #micro/macro #is it too late to apologiiiise #ok im really proud of that little vingette in there #Idk their dynamic lol #Im gonna do some goblin tagging now heheheheh

[nefertiti-fooling-fellow]

A Study of Good Omens and Taylor Swift Lyrics

AKA: These are the songs/lyrics from Taylor Swift songs that I connect to Good Omens (in honors of 1989 (Taylor’s Version))!!

1. YOU ARE IN LOVE (1989)

Hands down my favorite Taylor Swift song EVER.

Here are some lyrics that I think fits the Ineffable Spouses:

One look, dark room

Meant just for you

I mean…Aziphale and Crowley having to communicate through glances and touch because they can never really say they truly mean through the ages?

Time moved too fast

You play it back

Crowley literally STOPPING TIME because Aziraphale threatens to stop speaking to him!!! Simp behavior!!

You're my best friend

THEY. ARE. BEST. FRIENDS.

And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars

And why I've spent my whole life tryin' to put it into words

To me, it makes sense that they wouldn’t really have a good grasp of individual love quite yet at the beginning. Angels like Aziraphale are obligated to love ALL of God’s creation, but that’s a very distant kind of love. Crowley, a demon, whose very job description details that pure love is something he cannot feel.

But as they spend more time around humans, they finally realize the quiet companionship they feel around each other is LOVE. They find love in each other, in the simple pleasures of the human world around them.

(Am I reading into this too much?? Who knows! I’m having fun, I hope you’re having fun, let’s continue)

2. Dancing With Our Hands Tied (Reputation)

I loved you in secret

Self-explanatory.

Deep blue, but you painted me golden

I think this line relates to both of them, especially recalling the Job minisode in S2E2. They were both lonely, both struggling with their faith in their respective sides but found common ground and a sense of belonging with each other!!!

I loved you in spite of

Deep fears that the world would divide us

I think this is self-explanatory again but it just needed to be said, such a good lyric.

Yeah, we were dancing

And I had a bad feeling

But we were dancing

This lyric reminds me of their Arrangement. I see a lot of people on here describing the rituals that Aziraphale and Crowley form over the years as an intricate “dance” around one another and I wholeheartedly agree.

Even though they don’t really think of each other as “hereditary enemies” (case in point: “foul fiend! After you,” from Season 1, Aziraphale stopping mid-smiting in S2E2 when he recognizes Crowley, “I trust you,” in S2E4, the Arrangement, etc…) they still dance the same lines of arguing that they are on different sides and therefore inherently different because their hands were tied (metaphorically) by their respective loyalty to Heaven or Hell.

3. Wildest Dreams (1989)

This song feels to me like it’s from Aziraphale’s point of view, if we were to relate it to the Husbands.

Exhibit A:

I thought Heaven can't help me now

Nothing lasts forever

Yeah…sounds familiar?

He's so tall and handsome as hell

I just think that this is how Aziraphale would pine over Crowley in his mind, it’s very…Austen, he would write this in his diary with a glitter pen.

I said, "No one has to know what we do"

Did someone say the Arrangement? Unlikely alliance??? Perchance.

4. Peace (folklore)

If Wildest Dreams is Aziraphale’s pining moment, then Peace is Crowley’s.

All these people think love's for show

But I would die for you in secret

Angels in heaven has no concept of love, they believe Crowley wholeheartedly when he says “you have to wait a few days and see,” and even Crowley himself thinks that love is equivalent to sheltering under the rain and sharing one sweet, perfect kiss.

But that’s not why we, the watchers, recognize that Crowley loves Aziraphale, we see that when he walks through consecrated ground and saves Aziraphale’s book!! Crowley cares!! He would do anything to make sure Aziraphale’s safe!! And that’s love!!

The devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me

THEY. ARE. FRIENDS.

5. Right Where You Left Me (evermore)

Season 2, Episode 6. Yeah.

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #aziracrow #good omens 2 #ineffable husbands #ineffable divorce #taylor swift #lyrics #this is my longest post ever #this took me like an hour to make #I swear I have hobbies #I’m sure there’s more that I missed #tell me in the replies/tag #some more that I can’t be bothered to analyze rn #this is me trying is Aziraphale #he’s also mirrorball #Crowley is hoax and the archer #they’re also timeless (from the vault)

[thebabblingbrookenook]

I had a bit of writer's fun tonight with a talented bunch of gals. It was all inspired by this lovely Benedict Bridgerton edit by the @bridgertontess

The game was to write a 500 word (most of us went over 😜) ficlet that told the story of what turned sweet Ben into Eeyore. The results were hilariously diverse. This was my attempt to explain his melancholy.

Thanks for playing ladies. I had a blast! @fayes-fics @eleanor-bradstreet @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @colettebronte

He waited. He waited as long as he could and then stayed an hour longer. Even after the rain soaked through his clothes, chilling his bones - he stayed. He would always stay for you. The problem was that you always seemed to be leaving him.

Each time he had to say goodbye, it hurt a little deeper for a little while longer. But then, one day, he'd hear the knock at his door and find you on the other side. He never hesitated to let you right back in, even though the chances of you walking out again were easily foreshadowed.

He knew he should stop, but he couldn't help himself. That's what addicts do. They give in to the desires of their flesh. Not because they aren't strong enough to turn away, but because somewhere inside them, they don't want to stop. The suffocating lows can be justified by euphoric, blissful highs. Eventually, decisions can be rationalized. You were his vice, and he had no intention of quitting.

His culpability in his own pain made it even worse. He held no pity for himself. He deserved it all. He literally signed up for it. You had always been a bit of a free spirit. Untamed and wild behind the eyes. That's part of what drew him to you. But the same thing that brought you close was the thing that took you away.

You were terrified of the metaphorical cage from staying in one place for too long. He knew you were running from something, but that same fear always sent you seeking stability in his presence.

Inch by inch you would let him see new pieces of your soul, and he was humbled by it every single time. That's what he had found himself addicted to. The small hits of intimacy you would allow him before the inevitable retreat.

That's what was happening now. The wall you let him breach was a big one, and he saw it in your eyes the moment you realized he had seen too much. It was his fault. You begged him not to say it. You begged him not to love you. Your words rang in his ears on repeat.

"Don't Ben. Please don't say you love me." your voice broke in a plea.

"Why not? It's true. What's so wrong with that?" he asked.

"Because I might not say it back..." You couldn't meet his eyes.

"Might not? If you're not sure, that's okay. Love is a big thing. I don't want you to say it if you don't feel it. But are you saying you could feel it? I can wait. You know I can." He knew those were the wrong words the moment he heard himself saying them.

"Right... always waiting for me to grow up. Waiting for me to stop being so selfish. Aren't you tired of making excuses for me yet, Ben?!"

"That's not what I meant. Please... please don't do this. Stay with me. I'm not going to hurt you or try to change you."

"You already are changing me! I'm not ready for this. And I can't keep doing this to you. I have to go." His eyes widened with panic as you strode towards the door.

"Darling, please! Just think about it. For me, just say that you'll think about. We can meet tomorrow by the park to talk." He was prepared to grovel.

His hands cupped your face, holding you in his gaze. But when you couldn't answer him, his fingers fell away.

"I'll wait for you there. 3pm by the pond." He took a deep breath to steel his nerves. "But if you don't come... don't come back again."

That was the last thing he said before you walked through his door. And now he was sitting in the rain, regretting every word. What had he done?

What had he done?

#writing challenge #a picture is worth a thousand words #benedict bridgerton #Benedict Bridgerton fanfiction #Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

[gay-otlc]

Roisin's Reading Rumble: Round 2

@camelspit @arson-anarchy-death

Brant playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2esYP1SdGXt54qMk9AgH9I?si=969c4f77e25b4493

Lyric explanations under cut

House On Fire by Rise Against

I thought that we would build this together But everything I touch just seems to break

From the time Brant and Jolie were young, and met in a pet store, they were in love. They expected to have a future together, and desperately wanted to be on each other's match lists against the odds. Even when they were labeled a bad match, they were planning a wedding. Clearly, they planned to build a life together.

However, Brant's rage at the system that hurt him, and at Jolie for choosing the Black Swan over the Neverseen, led to him destroying her and the future they'd planned.

So I'll just hold you like a hand grenade You touch me like a razor blade I wish there was some other way right now, oh oh Like a house on fire we're up in flames I'd burn here if that's what it takes To let you know I won't let go of you, oh oh

Even though Brant killed Jolie, he loved her to the end. In their case, they had a literal house on fire- the fire that Brant set after his fight with Jolie. However, this works in a metaphorical sense as well. The two of them were a bad match in a world that hated bad matches, and two people on opposite sides of a war. Their love was doomed, and it was inevitable that it would go up in flames, but they tried regardless, right up until they couldn't.

As Brant killed Jolie, despite his anger with her, he stayed by her side. He refused to let go of her, staying in the fire and suffering severe burns.

How is it a thing That we just wanna hurt each other I'm waiting out the rain 'Cause life is gonna rain forever Someday you will learn That all I ever did was for you And I would do it all again I would do it all again

The tragedy of their story is that Jolie loved and trusted Brant, and he hurt her. He killed her. Still, he never stopped loving her. Violent as his actions may have been, he did them because he loved Jolie, in his own misguided way. Joining the Neverseen, trying to burn down the system that hurt them- that was for Jolie. After he killed her, he continued to work with the Neverseen. He regretted killing her, but he didn't regret doing whatever it took to fight for a life together.

Freak Like Me by Transviolet

'Is there anybody out there? Hello can you hear me? Or am I just screaming to the void? I'm not looking for a savior I just need somebody Telling me I'm not in this alone

Ever since he manifested, Brant has been demonized by the Lost Cities for being a Pyrokinetic. The world called him a monster, even before he did anything wrong. He felt alone and scared, with an ability he didn't know how to control and a world that would hate him if they knew the truth.

This is where Fintan comes in. Brant felt rejected by everyone, or knew he would be rejected if they found out he was a pyrokinetic. However, Fintan helped to mentor Brant, taught him to control his ability, and showed him that he wasn't alone. Even though Fintan hurt a lot of people, and encouraged Brant to hurt people by joining the Neverseen, he was the only person to know what Brant was and still treat him with kindness.

Is there anybody out there? Are you a freak like me? Getting kicked out somewhere Are you a freak like me?

Fintan got kicked off of the Council after pyrokinesis was made illegal, and Brant was abandoned by his parents after he manifested. Even his parents, who were meant to love him unconditionally, treated him like a freak for his ability. Brant felt alone and rejected, but Fintan was there for him; another "freak," willing to support him when no one else would.

You don't gotta walk that way alone Fuck this place We don't gotta go back there

Once Brant has Fintan on his side, and is no longer alone, the two of them work together to fight back against the world that treated them like freaks. Instead of accepting the way they're treated and assimilating into the Lost Cities, denying who they are and their craving for fire, they say "fuck this place" and join with the Neverseen, trying to destroy the system that hurt them.

Duality by Set It Off

I can't quite contain or explain my evil ways Or explain why I'm not sane All I can say is this is your warning

The Lost Cities labeled Brant as evil, a criminal, simply on the basis of his ability. They labeled him a monster, and he could do nothing to make them view his otherwise, so he chose to become the monster they called him. His actions took a toll on his sanity; his mind didn't break from the guilt, but he was described as not quite stable. Because of the way the Lost Cities harmed him, he chose to harm them back.

I have a confession that you will not believe That you could not perceive this freak, gonna set it off I have a confession, of a side that I hide

For a long time, Brant had to hide his ability, and had to hide who he was. Eventually, he grew tired of hiding and lived openly as a pyrokinetic. Let them call him a freak; he wasn't going to deny himself anymore.

I am good, I am evil I am solace, I am chaos I am human, and that's all I've ever wanted to be

At the start of his journey, Brant was a good person. As a child, he reached out to Jolie and agreed to share the pet he desperately wanted, sacrificing some of his time with it. He cared about her deeply, trying to make her happy and sending her love letters when they were separated.

Despite how good he was at the start, his rage at being rejected by the world took over eventually, and he became evil. He killed the love of his life, joined the Neverseen, kidnapped and tortured Sophie. He provided solace for Jolie, when they were younger, but he also brought chaos and destruction to the Lost Cities.

All he wanted was to be treated as equal. The Lost Cities treated him as not quite a human elf because of who he was. He was denied the education he wanted, denied the right to marry the person he loved. When he was still just a child who wanted to be worthy of the treatment everyone else got, the world dehumanized (de-elvinized?) him.

#absolutely no judging my music taste. my music taste is great fuck you #roisin's reading rumble #brant redacted

[reminiscentreader]

Since Ms Swift decided she didn’t want to appreciate Speak Now (Taylor’s version) I will.

ok so firstly the only reason I’m making this post is because I’m currently listening to last kiss (tv) which is MY FAVORITE in the album, god I could go on and on about this song, is saw somebody else say that they’ve never even had their first kiss and this song made them feel like they had been heartbroken in the worst possible way, I have never heard the way this song makes me feel so perfectly. Taylor Swift singing it with her matured voice makes me want to SOB, this song also especially hits different after the toe breakup, and with her voice now it feels less like a heartbroken teen and more like a woman who is looking back on her relationship with her true love and all the memories comeback to her making her miss when she used to be happy, let’s be honest it’s one of the saddest in her discography and the album.

which leads us on nicely to long live which for some reason makes me cry every time I listen to it, the song doesn’t have a sad meaning to it but god it just reminds me of when she was the literal butt of the internet, everyone was making fun of her and then after this has all happened she then goes and records “I’m not afraid” which then makes me think of joe helping her through all of the hate and how he helped her in her darkest times. Overall the whole album just has a new meaning after the toe break up.

THE VAULT TRACKS, I will literally have to pick these apart one by one because she really went above and beyond with these:

.when Emma falls in love, I loved this song, it’s wasn’t my favorite, but it’s amazing, it kind of reminds me of one of my freinds who absolutely freaked out when her crush tried to kiss her (she literally ran away from him, they’ve been dating for a year now) she’s literally the sweetest person but never excepts any compliments or any gifts she really is little miss sunshine who always thinks it’s going to rain.

.I can see you made me turn into Kim possible when I listened to it, it’s gives of massive good girl x bad boy vibes and I love it! The music video was amazing especially with Taylor Launter although I was a little disappointed when there wasn’t a back to December mv starring him.

.Castles crumbling is Grayson Hawthornes song, you can’t change my mind and if you don’t agree here are some lyrics that might change your mind; “power went to my head, and I couldn’t stop”, “you don’t wanna know me now”, “people look at me like I’m a monster”, now the whole castles crumbling bit is graysons mental walls he put up to stop himself from feeling and to stop anyone from seeing inside his mind (metaphorically, of course) but since he hit Rock bottom in the wine cellar those walls have been crumbling.

.Foolish one, I love This song so much, that’s it, just listen to the song and appreciate it

.Timeless is such a beautiful song, and I love the way Taylor describes her relationship with whoever in this song, again I just had to assign this song to a fictional character/ship so the lucky people who get this song are…. That’s right warnette , I feel like this song is just them y’know like “even if we met on a crowded street in 1944, when you were headed off to fight in the war, you still would’ve been mine we would’ve been timeless” is like them because SPOILER Anderson removed their memories of eachother so many times but they still found eachother <3

long story short, mother really mothered with this one 💜💜💜💜

#taylor swift #taylors version #speak now #speak now taylor’s version

[darchildre]

Sara Reads an Infuriating Book, the Conclusion

Friends, I have finished W Scott Poole's Wasteland. Here are some notes on the last two chapters:

Chapter 4:

Like chapter 3, this mostly discussed subjects outside my bailiwick - the chapter focused mostly on the rise of fascism in Europe and America throughout the 1930s and only touched on film a little. And the films it did discuss are, to my mind, only horror films if your definition is very broad: M, and the Dr Mabuse movies.

I have one small rant here: Poole, in discussing M, talks about the movie's "fully human monster" and the fact that American and British film wouldn't "fully explore this subject for another three decades." And I thought, okay, sure - making a movie as frankly about a child killer would be pretty confronting even today, that seems fair.

But no, this is not what he means, because the films he uses as examples of British and American films exploring the subject matter are Psycho and Peeping Tom, which means we're just talking about serial killers.

Sir. Even leaving aside movies like Murders in the Zoo and Mystery of the Wax Museum (which he's going to discuss in the very next chapter), between 1927 and 1944, people in Britain and the US filmed three separate versions of The Lodger. I am absolutely not claiming that these movies are anywhere near as good as M, but you cannot argue that no one outside Germany made a serial killer movie before the 1960s.

On the up side, this chapter did remind me to rewatch M and that I've always meant to get around to the Mabuse films.

Chapter 5! This chapter was called "Universal Monsters", which of course made me excited. Unfortunately, this is the last chapter, so Poole has to cram a lot of stuff in and can't really give anything enough space for proper discussion. Especially since this chapter is as scattered as all the others: we do discuss the American horror cycle of the 1930s, but we also have to drop in on Lovecraft, T S Eliot, and Machen (as we do every chapter), as well as discuss the revival of Spiritualism, the collapse of Victorian mourning culture during WWI, and some thoughts on ghost stories as comforting when compared to, y'know, the omnipresent mutilated corpses that Poole never stops talking about.

Because there's so much, nothing gets a lot of focus. Here are some bullet points:

Poole does not discuss the 1931 Dracula at all. It gets a sentence or two marking that it has been made, but no discussion of the actual film. And sure, you can't talk about everything, but my dude! You have been yammering on about symbolic/metaphorical portrayals of shell shock for chapters now and you don't want to talk about Dwight Frye's Renfield? We're just going to move right past Lucy quoting "Stand to Your Glasses" to a literal walking dead man? I get that you talked about Nosferatu a lot but damn, that seems like a hell of an omission.

Talking about James Whale and his horror movies: "We unfortunately have really nothing from the director himself regarding how the war shaped his vision of horror." THIS IS WHAT I'M SAYING. Look, I am generally death-of-the-author as hell and I think that Poole's reading of most of these films is a legitimate and valid reading. I just object to the idea that it's the only valid reading, especially when he never presents solid evidence other than his opinions about the films.

Petty nitpicking time: friends, I just watched every damn one of the Universal Invisible Man movies and there is no suggestion in any one of them that Griffin is “a disfigured scientist who seeks invisibility to hide his mutilated face". That's just wildly inaccurate. Poole loves facial disfiguration so much that he sees it in films where it does not appear at all. (Claude Rains as Griffin is visible for all of 10 seconds in the original film, his face is entirely unmarred and, frankly but irrelevantly, really lovely.)

Even pettier nitpicking: if you are going to make a snarky comment about people mistakenly referring to Frankenstein's assistant in Frankenstein and Bride as Ygor, it's going to come off better if you remember that the character in the original film is named "Fritz" and not "Karl". Karl is in Bride.

I will admit that I only skimmed the Afterword because, frankly, I've been reading this book at work and I got to it when we were about to close up and go home. Thus, I don't have anything to say about it.

In conclusion! This is not the most infuriating book about horror I've ever read, because Poole a) doesn't hate people who like horror and b) doesn't think that all horror stories are about incest. I disagree with a lot of his conclusions, but mostly because I think he's making too strong a case on too little evidence and I don't like anything that only allows for one reading of any work of art. I also found the structure irritating and I think parts of the book would be better if the scope was narrower - wandering off to talk about Surrealist painters or T S Eliot every damn chapter got old after a while.

It's absolutely not the book I would recommend for a first entry into horror film history - that's still Skal's The Monster Show. But, if you want some context for 1920/30s horror film, with a focus on European film, it's not a bad book to argue with or make film lists from.

And now I have to go track down Shell Shock Cinema by Anton Kaes, because it's the book in the works cited that sounded the most interesting.

#i've also been reminded of how much i love the black cat #that might be due for a rewatch soon #sara reads an infuriating book