#and i don't want to get triggered by any of that or if i see a Bad Take it will bring me right back there

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Seeing Stars 3

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes

Summary: You struggle to be star struck by the world’s most famous super soldiers. (grumpy!short!reader)

Note: Guess this is happening.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

"I can't believe you won," Bonita chimes. 

"Uh, yeah, I told you to just claim the prize," you mutter. 

"And I told you," she pulls you off the subway, "it has to be the ticket holder." 

"Right. You could say you're me." 

"Didn't you read the email?" She huffs as you drag your feet behind her. You hate Manhattan. 

"I skimmed." 

"They have to check ID at the door. As your plus one, I had to submit a bunch of stuff. Didn't you?" She hooks her arm through yours as she urges you through the New York rush. 

You grumble. It's like the universe is laughing in your face. Or hers. It should've been her prize. She's the one who likes all that stuff. As much as you don't want to spit in her face, you're not very happy to spend a rare day off somewhere you don't want to be. 

You're a good friend. That's why you're doing this. That's it. You'll get through it for her. In spite of her. 

You find her waiting where she promised. She's taking selfies right outside the doors of Stark Tower, unbothered by those passing by. You nudge her and hiss, "you're in the way." 

"About time. You're almost late." She lowers her phone and bats her fake eye lashes at her. Oh, she went all out. You thought the sweater and jeans was a fine choice. 

"Almost, but I'm not," you chirp. 

"Lighten up! This is going to be the greatest days of our lives," she squeals and claps, sending her phone to the ground. You let a sigh out quietly. She's so happy. You'll keep the snide remarks to yourself. 

You bend to pick up her phone and hand it over. She snatches it and giggles, "I wonder if I could livestream the tour." 

"Just... enjoy it," you utter. You don't need her holding up her phone like a tourist. No shame, you swear. 

"Woah, hey," you stumble as someone clamours into you. "Sorry, I didn't see you there. Guess I should've looked down." 

The man's hands cling to your arms as he keeps you on your feet. You pull away and spin to face him. Bonita makes an inhuman noise. 

It's him. Steve Rogers. Again. 

"You guys lost?" He asks. 

You look at Bonita. She vibrates with excitement, "um, we won! Er. Oh! We're here because we won the tour and you're supposed to be there and all the others and--" 

"Ha, yes, I am running behind." He says, “uh, I guess you can come in with me.” 

“Oh wow,” Bonita exclaims. “Thanks so much, Captain. I mean Mr. Rogers. No. Er...” 

“Steve’s fine,” he chuckles. “So, you two were at the convention?” 

“Yes, we got a photo,” she affirms. 

He opens the door and waves you ahead of him. You wait for Bonita to take the lead. You reluctantly follow as Steve tails you. 

“I thought you were familiar.” 

“Oh, no, you must meet so many people,” Bonita slows so that he can catch up and you sidle around them, happy enough to take the rear. 

“Eh, yeah, it can get a bit much.” 

“Sounds miserable,” you mutter, then cringe as you remember his super hearing. Oops. 

“I’m sure the rest are waiting,” he stops at a door and puts in a number on the keypad. It flashes red and buzzes. “Ugh, I always forget.” Instead, he moves to look into the dark lens higher up. An ultraviolet flare runs over his eye and the door unlocks. “I can doing that.” 

He opens the door again, a gentleman straight out of the 40s. Once more, you are stuck between the two of them. He points you down the hall to a private elevator. You get on. 

You bob impatiently as Bonita inserts herself between you and Steve. You stare at the reflective doors and let your vision blur. 

“So, um, is the shield here?” She asks. “Not to be lame or anything.” 

“Oh, sure, maybe you could see some of the prototype suits? I think there’s still a few hanging around,” Steve answers. 

“That’s so cool,” she chimes. 

You struggle not to roll your eyes. Instead, you focus and find another pair observing you in the mirrored surface before you. You quickly glance away from Steve’s gaze. 

Finally, your floor comes. You assume since the doors ding and Steve steps ahead of you. You follow him out into a spacious room. You can tell by the windows alone that it’s the very top of tower. 

“There you are, Capsicle,” someone calls over. 

You turn in the direction of the voice as Bonita grabs your arm and points at the dark-haired man. You know who he is. He’s on too many magazine covers and blogs not to. Tony Stark. He stands amid the group of his fellow avengers. 

“I found our lucky winners,” Steve says. 

“Bonita, and er, well, she won,” she pokes you as she introduces you. “Erm, we’re super excited.” 

You stare dully. You want to lie, for her. You do your best; a nod. 

��I remember you two,” Bucky’s voice surprises you. It’s only then you notice him sitting away from the rest of them, lazily flipping a knife. “You had a photo.” 

“Yes, that’s us!” Bonita blusters. 

“Well, ladies, welcome to the tower, these are the big boys... and girls.” Stark steps in front of the rest, “you’ve met Steverino here, and apparently his sidekick, The Raven.” Bucky scoffs as he stands and sheaths the knife. “Not to be cocky but I assume you know the rest of us.” 

“I do!” Bonita declares, “but er...” she looks at you. You half-nod and half-shrug. “It’s Tony Stark!” 

“I know that.” 

“Who doesn’t?” He winks. 

You grumble and his chin tilts slightly in affront. 

“That’s Thor! And Black Widow and Scarlet Witch, and Vision, and Hawkeye, and Hulk...” she goes down the list as you lose track and a little bit of interest. It’s your turn in Scrabble, you feel the notification buzz in your pocket. 

“What? Were you caught in the ice with this one?” Stark jabs Steve with a snicker. “You don’t know the world’s greatest heroes?” 

You stare back at him. “Nice tower, I guess.” 

“Ice cold,” he whistles, “I’ll leave this one to you, Vis. She’s about your speed,” he turns and struts away. 

“It’s your tour,” the woman with the short red bob says; the widow? 

“Contractual obligation but far from my idea,” he counters. “Hey, Banner, how about you take the lead. PhD or whatnot, I’m sure you give a hell of a lecture.” 

“We can go.” You offer and Bonita elbows you. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Steve insists, “we’re all going on the tour. Right, Tony?” 

“Hm, let me grab a whiskey first.” 

[playfullypastelpupper]

CW/TW- Kink Mentioned ---------------------------------- --------------------------

I agree on not villainizing and trying their events if you feel safe. There is a lot of sfw members in those communities. I for one was in those communities as sfw before I knew regression. But like others said- PTSD and minors are in our community. They can't go to these events. We also got to keep in mind regression can be involuntary and can be outside of an adult headspace. Are they excluded for not being able to give consent in the moment? Are most of these events accommodating? We also got to keep in mind littles apart of DID systems. What if they go to a panel that seems safe but includes kink terminology and roleplaying and then the systems have to explain. In regard an age regressor may not always have consent, not all conventions or events may have agere accommodations, and there are many people there who are in an adult mindset and may talk about adult topics even if you don't consent to it nearby. It can knock the agere out of their safe mindset or trigger PTSD in that moment. For PTSD it can be scary to approach or even considering attending. They deserve a space as much as anyone. A place their own. I understand going out and trying things. The conventions are really nice for nostalgia and having fun. But I can't say it's completely sfw for a regressor as someone who also watched the cons and interacted with the community. It can have subtle small flags that may send an age regressor into turmoil who feels unsafe. For example a food panel could end up with roleplaying. Or someone may bring up kink exploration during a meetup. I just think they are allowed to want a con for themselves and not want to associate . As much as we shouldn't diss on people who is different and does interact with both safely. Saying they should go and try this while treating their own feelings as something to be mad about. I get agere can be hard to duals and kink. I've seen some strong words said. And someone I know it hurt them. They felt wrong and guilty for a while due to the mass treatment. Yes we can tone down our own emotions to be kinder. We can, especially through understanding. There is nothing wrong with that or different expressions of age regression that don't fit in neatly. I'm glad people can relate or can do this if they are comfortable to regain some childhood or self. But separation as a community exists for a reason. Some of these policings happened because of the past harm peoples been through and the fear of it happening to others or again to themselves. If your hurt at someone not wanting minors seeing kink content or ending up in kink spaces due to crosstagging. (Which mind you duals tend not to crosstag because they understand.) Or involuntary age regressors not wanting to be kicked out of their space, yes this has happened, or turned into a dating/NSFW space. Or kicked into a bad space because of seeing something that may remind them of trauma just because you don't care for seperation. And Without separation looking for a Caregiver can turn into trauma. Then maybe you need just as much understanding for age regressors experiences as much as sfw kink. History is important here. Don't undermine anyone's experiences or concerns. You can be kind to both here and still have your own opinion. How is that so hard? And I'm sorry to any age regressors that read this and saw them calling those above an embarrassment for simply not feeling okay with kink in their space. I understand being hurt by mean words like calling someone 'icky' for existing. That hurts people too. Just bare in mind there is also no excuse for calling someone names for being uncomfortable. You are just as wrong. Either one can be mean and guilt causing toward that person. It makes you no better to lash out at innocent people. Yes I saw that was apart of the under water screenshots. Just stay safe ageres and love who you are. Make your space your space. Enjoy life and most importantly put your health first. Rather that is accepting your own wants or having boundaries you keep. You are fine wanting your own space too. Take care kiddos

Stealing these photos from a K!nk convention because these looks like so much fun and I wish I could have this environment for non-sexual agere littles.

[killerelysia]

𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐛𝐲 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞!- 𝐒𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐚 𝐱 𝐆.𝐍 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don't interact!

Words: 12820 (Late special for 300!)

Genre: G.N Reader (Fluff, Angst!) (MIta! Reader!) (This entire oneshot sucks)

Summary: No Witnesses, Took you away. He ran that day and it was maybe god wanted to give you back to him.

"you" bring Sol into a game-like world where you claim to have created a device to reunite with him. The environment is surreal, with glitches and red room occurrences hinting at a darker truth. "You" behave lovingly but possessively, showing a mix of adoration and control. Sol is confused but gradually accepts being with "you" despite unsettling events, like the mention of his real body and mysterious occurrences around the house and farm.

( Reader is a g.n!)-

Trigger Warning: This content contains themes of

This conversation contains themes that may be disturbing or triggering for some audiences. Please read the following content warnings:

Psychological Abuse: Manipulation, obsession, control, and emotional distress are central themes in the conversation.

Violence and Gore: Descriptions of physical harm, violent imagery, and mentions of dangerous substances.

Emotional Manipulation: Themes of dependency, emotional manipulation, and gaslighting appear, particularly in the dynamics between characters.

Disturbing Imagery: Glitching visuals, unsettling transformations, and eerie scenarios are present throughout.

Mental Health Themes: Issues surrounding trauma, confusion, self-doubt, and identity crisis.

Themes of Death and Resurrection: Exploration of death, the afterlife, and the resurrection of characters in unnatural circumstances.

Unhealthy Relationships: Dysfunctional relationships with obsessive and possessive tendencies, as well as the emotional consequences of these behaviors.

Body Horror: Disturbing changes in the characters' appearance, avatars, and environments.

If any of these topics are distressing, I recommend proceeding with caution or avoiding this conversation.

Solivan Brugmanisa

Violence, Blood

EXTRA: He's a character from a game named The kid at the back!! Note, But! Mita is from Miside! I love this game lately and got a ask for it in a different account So Hehe Also! This doesn't follow the exact aftermath of no witness end so plz! don't get confused

You gasp, the taste of iron flooding your mouth as blood spills past your lips. Your trembling hand brushes the warmth spreading from your chest, and that’s when you see it— a gleaming blade buried deep, piercing through flesh and bone.

The blade vanishes in one smooth motion, leaving a gaping wound in its wake. A slick sound follows as it’s withdrawn, and you’re shoved backward. Your knees buckle. The cold, rough ground welcomes you, cradling your broken body as crimson pools beneath you.

A pair of hands turn you over roughly, sending a fresh wave of agony through your frame. The pain feels distant now, a dull throb drowned beneath the haze clouding your mind. You barely register the dirty wooden planks of the shed’s ceiling above, shadowed in fading light as your vision darkens.

From the corner of your eye, a figure kneels, barely discernible against the blur. The voice, raw and trembling, pierces through your growing oblivion.

"Y/N... please, stay with me... don’t go..."

Their hands tremble as they press against your wound, desperate, frantic—but it’s useless. Every word is drowned in the rising silence in your ears. Your world collapses into nothingness, their pleas fading with it.

No witnesses. No mercy. Just the silence of the condemned.

The tension in the room was suffocating. Sol's golden eyes burned with fury, his chest heaving with unspent rage. Hyugo stood his ground, his face carved into a cold, disdainful mask. The two had always been at odds, but tonight, something had snapped in Sol—a desperation that neither anger nor logic could contain.

"You don't understand," Sol growled, the blade in his hand trembling as much as he was. His voice cracked with an anguish that betrayed his rage. "I can't... I won't live without them!"

Hyugo’s gaze hardened, his lips curling in disgust. "And you think this will fix it? Killing me? You're a fool, Sol."

The room seemed to shrink as the two stared each other down, the air crackling with the weight of Sol's decision. His grip on the blade tightened, but his hand shook violently. Hyugo wasn't just an enemy; he was his friend—someone who had stood by him, even when things fell apart.

Sol took a step forward, his breathing ragged, his mind clouded with grief and desperation. But then... he froze. The blade trembled in his hand as he looked into Hyugo’s eyes, seeing not hatred, but something deeper—understanding, pity, and shared sorrow.

The weapon fell to the floor with a clatter, and Sol staggered back, clutching his head. he choked out, tears streaming down his face.

He turned on his heel and bolted, his sobs echoing in the cold, empty night. His heart felt like it was tearing apart with every step.

Because you were gone. And no amount of bloodshed would bring you back.

The realization hit him like a freight train as he stumbled into the darkness, collapsing to his knees. "You're dead... It's over," he whispered, his voice breaking as he buried his face in his hands.

It had been weeks—months, maybe—since Sol last saw the sun. The world outside had become a distant memory, a life he no longer deserved to touch. His room was a tomb now, suffocating him with its silence, with the ghosts of his mistakes.

At school, people whispered his name like a bad omen, a ghost story to scare the weak-hearted. To them, he was dead—a shadow that had disappeared the same day you and Crowe did.

The news had been merciless. Two gone. No traces. No hope. Sol didn’t need the details to fill in the blanks. Hyugo had cleaned up the mess, hadn’t he? Made sure there were no loose ends, no inconvenient truths to unravel. Just two names, reduced to cold headlines and fleeting gossip.

But no one knew the truth—not like he did. Not like he felt it.

It clawed at his mind day and night, tearing at the fragile threads keeping him together. You were gone because of him. You died.

You died.

The words echoed like a twisted mantra, each repetition a knife plunging deeper into his soul.

Your body, cold and blood-soaked, flashed in his mind—your eyes empty, staring up at nothing, lips parted as if caught mid-scream. He imagined your hands reaching for help that never came, clutching at the air, at the wound, at life. He saw your blood, thick and black, spilling in rivers over the floor. He heard the wet, sickening gurgle of your last breath.

You died.

You were rotting now. The skin he once touched, peeling back like paper, bloated and crawling with decay. Flesh once warm, once alive, was now meat for the worms. Your beautiful face, your voice, your soul—all swallowed by the earth.

You died.

He rocked back and forth on the floor, pulling at his hair until strands came away in his hands. "No, no, no," he muttered, a useless chant against the horror consuming him. "You're dead, you're dead, you're DEAD."

He wanted to scream, to tear the world apart, to bring you back—to undo it all. But the truth was louder than anything he could muster.

You died.

And it was his fault. The blood on your hands should’ve been his. The life snuffed out should’ve been his. Every single second you suffered, should have been his.

You were dead.

And he’d never get to say goodbye.

Sol sat hunched over in the dim glow of his computer screen, the stale air around him heavy with the weight of his torment. His hair, once carefully styled, now hung in unruly strands around his gaunt face, the green streaks dulled and lifeless. His bangs stuck to his clammy forehead, framing hollow eyes that stared endlessly at the monitor.

There you were—there you always were.

The photos filled the screen, each one stolen in secret during his obsessive stalking. Some were candid: you laughing with friends, your head turned just slightly, the sunlight catching your features in a way that seemed almost ethereal. Others were darker, grainy shots taken at night through your window, the soft glow of your bedroom light illuminating you in stolen intimacy.

His Central Heterochromia eyes—once captivating and fiery—were now bloodshot and void of life, framed by heavy bags that seemed to drag his whole face down. The faint orange and crimson rings of his irises reflected dimly against the screen, their vibrancy eclipsed by the shadows of sleepless nights and relentless guilt.

Sol’s striped black-and-green long-sleeve clung loosely to his frame now, his once vibrant figure reduced to something skeletal. The collar-like choker around his neck felt suffocating, but he didn’t remove it—it felt like the only piece of control he still had, even as it dug into his skin. His jewelry clinked faintly as he shifted, the sound drowned beneath the low hum of the computer.

He leaned closer to the screen, his trembling fingers ghosting over the image of you. The bright, joyful smile in the photo burned into his mind like a brand, a cruel reminder of what he’d destroyed. His dry, cracked lips parted, a whisper escaping them like a dying breath:

“I’m sorry...”

The words fell flat, hollow. They meant nothing. How could they, when the only person they were meant for could never hear them?

The cursor hovered over your face, his hand shaking violently as he dragged the mouse down. His chest rose and fell erratically, every breath a struggle beneath the crushing weight of his regret.

“It’s my fault. I—I shouldn’t have—” His voice broke into a raw sob, his forehead colliding with the desk in front of him.

Tears pooled under his eyes, rolling down to stain the photos scattered across the table—the same pictures he’d printed to keep close, despite the agony they brought him now. You were gone. No amount of staring, no amount of grieving would bring you back.

“You died,” he choked out, his voice raw and trembling. His hands gripped the sides of the desk, knuckles white as he rocked back and forth. “You died because of me.”

His entire body trembled with the weight of his grief. Every moment without you felt like an eternity, an unrelenting reminder of what he could never undo.

The screen blinked, switching to a different image—a close-up, one of the last he’d taken. You were smiling, completely unaware of his presence as he snapped the photo from afar. That smile burned like acid, searing into his soul.

Sol’s trembling finger hovered over the photo, his gaze locked on your frozen smile. His lips quivered as he whispered your name again, broken and desperate. But then—he froze.

The picture shifted.

At first, he thought it was a trick of his mind—an illusion brought on by his exhaustion. But no, the change was real. Your eyes moved, flickering toward him with an unnatural sharpness. The grin in the photo softened, your lips parting as though you were about to speak.

"Sol..."

He flinched, his heart lurching painfully in his chest. The voice wasn’t in his head—it was real. It came from the screen, from you.

"Sol, I understand you," you said softly, your tone disarming, almost... forgiving. Your eyes, so full of life in the photograph, now seemed to gaze directly into his shattered soul.

His hand shot up, trembling as he pressed his palm against the screen, directly over yours. The warmth of his tears smeared against the glass. “Y-you... understand?” he whispered, his voice breaking with hope and disbelief.

But then the screen flickered.

The warm glow of your presence twisted and warped, the image of you glitching violently. Your eyes rolled upward, your face contorting into something grotesque. The smile vanished, replaced by a jagged, gaping maw that screamed out with a sound like tearing metal.

”YOU KILLED ME!!!”

The voice was no longer soft, no longer yours. It roared with a wrath that made the air feel heavy and unbreathable. The screen cracked violently as static buzzed around him, the edges of your image bleeding into darkness.

”YOU KILLED ME!!! YOU KILLED MEEEE!!!”

The words echoed in the room, in his mind, like a relentless chant. Sol screamed, stumbling back from the desk. His chair toppled over with a crash as he hit the floor, his hands clutching his head.

“I’m sorry!” he shrieked, his voice hoarse and ragged. “I’m sorry! Please—stop!”

But the screen only glitched further, the distorted image of you now lunging toward him through the crackling void. The static swirled, consuming everything, until the entire room seemed alive with the sound of your anguish.

”YOU KILLED ME! YOU TOOK EVERYTHING!”

Sol scrambled backward, his breaths shallow and panicked, his back hitting the cold wall behind him. The photo of you burned itself into his retinas, no longer a memory, but a nightmare made real.

“I didn’t mean to—I didn’t mean to!” he cried, his voice dissolving into sobs. But the void didn’t care. The void didn’t forgive.

The screen flashed one final time, your distorted face pressing against it as though trying to break free. Then, everything went black.

The room remained eerily silent, the darkness from the blank screen suffocating him. Sol's breaths came in uneven gasps, his entire body trembling as his wide, tear-filled eyes stayed glued to the lifeless monitor. But then—just when he thought it was over—the screen flickered back to life.

Your face reappeared, but this time, it was no longer soft, no longer kind. Your expression was cold, twisted into something unrecognizable. Your eyes bore into him with a cruel glint, your lips curling into a venomous smile that made his blood run cold.

"Sol..." your voice purred, mocking now, dripping with malice. "I only ever loved Crowe."

The words hit him like a physical blow, knocking the air from his lungs. "No," he whispered, shaking his head violently. "No, that’s not true. You----"

But the figure on the screen only laughed—a sharp, bitter sound that echoed like nails scraping against his skull.

"Crowe did what you never could," you continued, your voice cutting through him like a knife. "He did good, Sol. He did what was right. He wad for me. We are reunited now."

Sol’s heart stopped, his breath hitching as the weight of your words sank in. "Reunited...?" he croaked, his voice barely audible.

"In heaven," you hissed, your eyes narrowing with cruel delight. "He brought us together where you could never follow. And you know what, Sol? It’s peaceful. It’s beautiful. Everything you ruined is perfect now... without you."

The static crackled around your voice, each word like shards of glass digging into his brain. Sol shook his head, clutching at his temples as his knees buckled beneath him.

“Stop it!” he screamed, his voice breaking into a desperate sob. “Stop lying! You’re lying! I didn’t mean to—I didn’t mean—”

The screen glitched violently, your face distorting further, your laughter growing louder and more twisted.

"Heaven doesn’t want you, Sol," your voice snarled, sharp and venomous. "You don’t belong there. You belong here. In this misery, in this emptiness. You deserve it."

“STOOOOPPP!” Sol screamed, his voice raw, his hands clawing at the floor as he writhed in agony.

The screen flashed, the static turning deafening as your voice overlapped with itself, chanting, "You killed me. You killed me. YOU KILLED ME."

The lights in the room flickered violently, his vision blurring as the world around him seemed to close in. He screamed and screamed, his voice tearing through the air, but nothing drowned out your voice, your accusations, your laughter.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, everything stopped.

The screen went black, the static faded, and the room fell deathly silent. Sol was left crumpled on the floor, his body shaking with silent sobs, his voice long gone. His wide, tear-streaked eyes stared blankly at the lifeless monitor, the echoes of your words still ringing in his ears.

He was alone.

Alone in a world where you were gone. Alone in the hell he’d built for himself.

Sol sat on the floor, his chest heaving with ragged breaths, his body trembling as though the air itself pressed against him. His eyes darted back to the screen, now lifeless and black. He hated how empty it looked—how empty he felt.

Maybe... maybe if he could see you again, just in some way that didn’t twist and contort into a nightmare, he could breathe. He could think.

His shaking hands reached out for his tablet and pen, the tools he hadn’t touched since before—before everything fell apart. His fingers brushed the smooth surface of the stylus, his mind screaming at him to stop, but he ignored it.

"I’ll just... draw you," he whispered to himself, his voice hoarse and barely audible. "If I draw you, I can—" His words caught in his throat as his hands trembled harder, the thought of seeing your face again both soothing and agonizing.

Before he could start, his laptop chimed, breaking the heavy silence of the room. A notification popped up in the corner of the screen.

At first, he thought it might be something mundane—an update or a message from some long-forgotten group chat. But when he squinted at the screen, his breath caught.

An unfamiliar program was downloading.

“What the hell?” he muttered, his voice shaky as he dragged himself off the floor. His fingers flew to the keyboard, his tired eyes scanning the screen. The download bar filled quickly, almost unnaturally fast, as though it was bypassing every block he had in place.

"No, no, no," he hissed, cursing under his breath as he opened his antivirus software. He navigated to the downloads folder, trying to halt the process, but the program wouldn’t respond. The screen flickered ominously.

The download finished with a dull ding.

The program’s name appeared on his desktop in bold, jagged letters:

"REUNION.EXE."

Sol’s heart pounded in his chest. He swallowed hard, his fingers hovering over the touchpad as his mind screamed at him to delete it, to get rid of it before it could do anything else.

But his hand refused to move. His eyes locked onto the file, and a chill ran down his spine.

"...Reunion," he whispered, his voice barely a breath. The word felt heavy on his tongue, like a taunt, a lure he couldn’t resist.

Just as he was about to force himself to delete it, the screen flickered again, and a message box popped up:

“Ready to see them again?”

His blood ran cold.

"No," he muttered, shaking his head violently, but the cursor moved on its own, hovering over the YES button.

"Stop it!" he screamed, slamming his hands onto the keyboard, but nothing worked. His commands, his attempts to close the program, were ignored.

With an ominous click, the button pressed itself. The screen went black for a moment before an eerie loading screen appeared—a grainy, distorted version of your face staring back at him.

Sol staggered back, his breathing ragged as he clutched the edge of the desk for support.

"What... the hell is this?" he whispered, his voice trembling as the game loaded, pulling him into something far darker than he could have ever imagi

The moment Sol clicked on the "REUNION.EXE" file, his screen began to glitch violently. Static crackled through the speakers, and distorted colors rippled across the screen like a digital storm. At first, he thought it was just another virus messing with him—but then the image stabilized.

What he saw froze the blood in his veins.

It was his bedroom.

Not a simulation or an artist’s rendition—his bedroom, rendered perfectly, down to the smallest detail: the unmade bed shoved into the corner, the cluttered desk, the peeling paint on the walls. The screen displayed a point-of-view perspective from where he was sitting, staring directly at him.

He blinked, his heart pounding in his ears. The image on the screen blinked too.

"What the—"

Before he could finish the thought, the scene repeated. The screen went black for a split second, then the same image reappeared. His room. Him sitting there. Watching himself.

Over and over again.

The loop accelerated, each flicker faster than the last until it felt like time itself was breaking down. Then, out of nowhere, the loop slowed to a crawl, and something changed.

There was you.

You were sitting on the desk chair in the display, your body turned toward the monitor with a smile stretched across your face—a smile too wide, too sharp, with teeth that gleamed unnaturally. Your eyes locked onto his, following his every move as though you could see him through the screen.

Sol’s breath hitched, his body frozen in place. "No... no, no, no..."

Your grin widened.

The screen went black.

The silence that followed was deafening. His laptop powered down entirely, the glow of the screen fading to nothingness. Sol sat in his chair, trembling, his thoughts racing.

And then it happened.

A hand—slender, pale, and eerily familiar—slipped out from the monitor’s edge. It gripped the desk, pulling the rest of the body with it. Sol’s stomach churned as he watched the impossible unfold.

The figure crawled out slowly, unnaturally, like a marionette on strings. Your form was twisted, your movements jerky, your limbs bending at angles that defied reason. But as you pulled yourself free, you began to stand, straightening into a form so familiar it made his heart ache.

It was you.

"Y-you... you can’t be—" Sol stammered, stumbling to his feet, his back hitting the wall as you fully emerged from the monitor.

You smiled at him again—wide, haunting, and dripping with malice. Your head tilted slightly as you took one deliberate step toward him, then another. Each step was unnaturally silent, your body gliding across the floor like a shadow.

Sol’s knees buckled. "No... this isn’t real. This isn’t real!"

You didn’t stop. Your grin didn’t falter.

When you were close enough, you reached out and shoved him backward, forcing him onto the bed. He grunted in surprise, his face flushing as his back hit the mattress.

"Wh-what are you—"

You crawled onto the bed, your movements slow and deliberate. Your hands pressed against the sheets on either side of him, trapping him in place as you loomed over him. His heart pounded wildly, his face burning as you slid onto his lap.

He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

Your eyes locked onto his, wide and unblinking, brimming with something too intense to name. The eerie grin melted away, replaced by a look of overwhelming adoration that made his chest tighten.

"Stay with me," you whispered, your voice soft yet heavy with emotion.

Sol’s lips parted to speak, but no words came out. His throat was dry, his mind spinning as your hands cupped his face.

"Stay," you repeated, your voice trembling as if the thought of him leaving was unbearable. Your thumbs brushed against his cheeks, and your gaze softened, though the edges of that eerie smile remained.

You leaned closer, your breath ghosting against his skin. "Don’t leave me again."

His heart stuttered in his chest as you raised one hand and gently placed it over his eyes, blocking out his vision.

The darkness consumed him, your touch the only sensation grounding him to reality. His body trembled beneath you, his breath coming in shallow gasps as your other hand slid down to press against his chest, right over his heart.

"You’re mine now," you murmured, your voice dripping with a mixture of love and possession. "Forever."

He felt your weight shift, your lips brushing against his ear. "Even if I have to drag you back with me..."

Suddenly, the darkness behind his closed eyes pulsed, and a cold, sharp sensation spread through his chest. It felt like ice piercing through his very soul.

He gasped, his body jerking as your hand slid away from his face. His vision returned, but the room was no longer the same. The walls were warped, the air thick and suffocating, and you—you—looked more monstrous than human..

Sol’s eyes shot open, his chest heaving as if he had been underwater and gasping for air. The room was dim, illuminated only by the faint glow of his laptop, which had powered itself back on. His heart pounded as he hesitantly approached the desk, his trembling hand brushing the mousepad.

On the screen was an unfamiliar logo—a jagged, swirling symbol in hues of green and black, pulsating faintly as if alive. Below it was the name: M¡ѕidε. The strange, broken letters seemed to ripple like water, defying the static nature of the display.

“What the hell...?” he muttered under his breath, his brows furrowed.

Before he could process the title, the screen flickered, and your face appeared.

"Hi, Sol," you greeted sweetly, your expression soft and welcoming. The background music, light and whimsical at first, carried an undercurrent of something off—a distorted undertone that set his teeth on edge.

You winked, the animated model of you shifting slightly to the beat of the music, your head tilting as if you could see him through the screen.

The screen zoomed out slightly, revealing the title screen in full.

Sol’s mouth went dry. His instincts screamed at him to shut the computer off, but his body wouldn’t obey.

"This isn’t real," he whispered to himself. But no matter how many times he blinked, you were still there, smiling and swaying as the music looped endlessly.

His cursor hovered over your animated form, unsure of what to do. The vibrant, digital version of you seemed so... alive. Every now and then, you’d glance at the screen and wave, your fingers wiggling like a playful tease.

Compelled by morbid curiosity—or sheer disbelief—Sol clicked on your face.

The moment he did, your model twitched violently, your features glitching for a fraction of a second. Your eyes rolled to the side unnaturally, your head lolling as if his action had physically struck you.

"Ow," you said with a mock pout, your voice slightly distorted. Your animated body jerked unnervingly before snapping back into place, resuming its cheerful, swaying motion.

Sol froze, his blood running cold. He moved the cursor to another part of the screen and hesitated, then clicked your face again.

This time, the reaction was more pronounced. Your smile faltered, your head snapping to face him with a sharp, unsettling motion.

"Stop that," you said, your voice carrying a sharper edge.

His breath hitched. His hands hovered over the keyboard, trembling.

“What the f—”

Before he could finish, your model twitched again, this time leaning closer to the screen. The animation zoomed in unnaturally, your face taking up the entire display.

"Do you want to start?" you asked sweetly, your tone syrupy yet underlined with something darker. "Or are you just here to poke me like a child?"

The cursor jumped away from your face on its own, dragging toward the menu options as if the system had wrested control from him. Sol’s palms grew clammy as the words Start Game pulsed on the screen.

He swallowed hard, his finger hesitating over the mouse. His gaze flicked back to your face, still locked on him, your head tilting as if to dare him.

Sol’s hands shook as he guided the cursor toward the Exit button on the screen. The glowing text seemed like salvation—a way to end whatever nightmare he’d stumbled into. But just as his finger hovered over the mouse, the Exit button began to drift.

At first, it moved slowly, sliding an inch to the side as if teasing him. His brow furrowed, frustration building as he dragged the cursor after it, only for the button to dart to another corner of the screen. It wasn’t random, though. The more it evaded him, the more he noticed.

Your eyes.

The animated model of you on the screen wasn’t static. Your gaze shifted with every movement of the Exit button, tracking it like a predator. When the cursor got close, your eyes darted to it, and the button leapt away as if you were controlling it. The grin on your face never wavered, but there was something behind it now—something that made Sol’s chest tighten with unease.

Click.

He missed.

Click.

The button danced out of reach, zipping across the screen. Sol’s breaths grew shallow, panic clawing at his throat. He slammed his hand down on the mouse, dragging the cursor faster, more erratically, but the button always stayed just out of reach. His heart pounded in his ears as the cursor flailed across the screen in a futile chase.

Finally, with a growl of frustration, Sol snapped the laptop shut. The screen went black, the eerie glow extinguished in an instant. He let out a shaky breath, his pulse hammering in his ears.

But the silence in the room wasn’t comforting. It pressed in on him, suffocating, as if the very air had turned hostile.

He waited. A minute passed. Then two. Slowly, hesitantly, he reopened the laptop.

The screen flickered to life, but the strange program was gone. His desktop looked normal—plain, mundane, exactly as it should have been. Sol exhaled a sigh of relief, his shoulders sagging as tension drained from his body.

But something gnawed at him.

The game.

That cursed title screen, the strange glitching figure—it all seemed like a bad dream now, too surreal to be real. And yet, his fingers moved almost on their own, searching through his files. It wasn’t there. Not in the downloads, not in the program list. The game had vanished.

His relief was short-lived.

A soft hiss escaped him as his fingers brushed against the mousepad again. The cursor, trembling ever so slightly, hovered over a single icon. It hadn’t been there before—a jagged symbol of green and black, pulsing faintly against the neutral desktop background.

Sol’s stomach churned as he double-clicked.

The game reopened instantly, the logo flickering to life with a crackle of distorted audio. The screen was the same, but not quite. This time, the colors were wrong—sickly reds and oranges pulsed where pinks and greens had been before. The background music looped, distorted and grating, its cheerful melody twisted into something menacing.

Your model was there again, but it was... different.

Your once playful grin had warped into something grotesque, teeth slightly too sharp and lips stretched just a little too wide. The soft blush on your cheeks was gone, replaced by shadowy hollows that made your face look skeletal. Your eyes gleamed with an unnatural light, the whites stained red and unblinking.

You stood at the edge of the title screen, swaying to the corrupted melody. But this time, you weren’t just swaying. You were twitching.

Every so often, your head would jerk to the side with a sharp crack, or your shoulders would shudder as if your frame couldn’t quite hold itself together. Despite this, you kept smiling—an empty, predatory smile that seemed to pierce through the screen.

Sol’s throat tightened as his gaze drifted to the title: M¡ѕidε.

The jagged letters bled red this time, their edges flickering like dying embers. His eyes snapped to the Exit button, but it wasn’t there. Only the Play button remained, glowing brighter than before, pulsing as if alive.

Sol didn’t want to move, but his eyes betrayed him, flickering back to your model.

You stared straight at him, head cocked to the side. Then your eyes shifted. Slowly, deliberately, they rolled downward to the Play button.

Mocking him.

The screen glitched, a brief burst of static obscuring your face, and when it cleared, your gaze was back on him. The grin widened, impossibly so, as if daring him.

His chest ached with the effort of holding his breath. He forced his shaking hand to the mouse, dragging the cursor across the screen. He didn’t want to play. He wanted out. But the Exit button wasn’t just gone—it was erased, as if it had never existed.

His fingers trembled as he hovered the cursor near the Play button, but he couldn’t bring himself to click.

Your model twitched again, your head snapping forward as you leaned closer to the screen. The distortion grew worse, the music crackling and skipping as the screen flickered like a failing light.

And yet, you kept smiling.

Sol’s breaths came in short, ragged gasps. The cursor lingered near the Play button, his hesitation eating at him.

The game loaded slowly, the screen flickering with static before the familiar warped melody filled the room. Sol's palms were damp against the mouse, his heart racing as the title screen faded into darkness. He braced himself, dreading what might come next.

Then, your model appeared.

"Hello!" you chirped, your voice unnervingly bright. The distortion from earlier was gone, replaced by a cheery tone that sent chills down his spine. Your character smiled sweetly, tilting its head in an endearing way. "I'm Y/N L/N. How are you? Nice to meet you, Sol!"

His stomach dropped.

He hadn’t entered his name.

Sol froze, his hand tightening around the mouse. How? How did the game know his name? He leaned back, staring at the screen as if distance might make it less real. But your model kept smiling, undeterred by his silence.

The background shifted, transitioning to a small, pixelated house with pastel tones. The scene was almost comforting, a stark contrast to the eerie introduction. Your chibi-like figure stood in the middle of the room, hands on your hips as you struck a playful thinking pose.

"Hmm," you hummed, tapping your chin. "This place is such a mess! Sol, will you help me tidy up?"

Sol blinked, his mind struggling to catch up. The juxtaposition of your cheerful demeanor and the creeping unease in his chest made his skin crawl. Still, his hand moved on its own, guiding the cursor toward your tiny figure.

Click.

He tapped on you experimentally, and a burst of pixelated hearts erupted from your model. You giggled, the sound high-pitched and sugary.

"Yay! Thank you!" you beamed, spinning in place.

Sol’s breath hitched. It was… surreal. Your mannerisms, your voice—it was as if you were alive again. As if the person he’d lost had somehow been resurrected in this twisted game.

He shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand. His cursor hovered over a pile of pixelated clothes scattered across the room. With a hesitant click, he picked them up and moved them to a nearby hamper.

"Good job!" your character cheered, clapping its tiny hands.

Sol swallowed hard, the praise stirring something uncomfortable in his chest. He continued cleaning, clicking on more items—papers, books, dishes—and watching as the room slowly transformed into a tidy, cozy space.

hE worked, a small notification popped up in the corner of the screen: Gift unlocked!

Sol hesitated before clicking on it. A menu appeared, offering a selection of items: flowers, jewelry, a stuffed animal. He selected the bouquet of flowers, feeling a strange knot in his stomach as he watched your model light up with joy. "Sunflowers"

"Wow, thank you so much!" you exclaimed, holding the flowers close. "You're so thoughtful, Sol!"

He froze, his face burning. The way you smiled, the way you thanked him—it felt… personal. Real.

It was like you weren’t dead.

The knot in his stomach twisted tighter as he stared at the screen, his chest aching with a mix of emotions he couldn’t untangle. He knew this wasn’t right. He knew you were gone. But for a moment, just a moment, he let himself believe.

You weren’t dead.

The screen flickered gently as your model finished placing the last pixelated object in its proper place. The room in the game looked pristine, warm, and inviting. Sol leaned back, exhausted but unable to tear his eyes away. His breathing was shallow, the air around him heavy with an unshakable tension.

Your model clasped its hands together, tilting its head with a warm, adoring smile.

"You're so thoughtful, Sol," your voice chimed, soft and sweet. "I wish I could meet you in person. You're perfect, you know? You’ve never made a single mistake in your life. Except maybe…"

The pause hung in the air like a taut string. Sol’s pulse pounded in his ears as he leaned closer, his grip on the mouse tightening.

"Except loving me," you finished, your voice carrying an edge of bittersweet fondness.

His chest constricted painfully. A lump rose in his throat, but he couldn’t stop staring at your model. You looked so… alive. So full of life.

Your character twirled playfully before stopping to gesture toward the screen, your expression softening.

"I want to give you something," you said.

The camera panned down to a pixelated table in the game. Resting atop it was a chain with a delicate key dangling from the end. Sol blinked, his brows furrowing. He glanced to the side, and his stomach dropped.

There, on his own desk, was the very same chain.

It hadn’t been there before.

He froze, his mind racing to make sense of it. His trembling hand reached out, his fingers brushing against the cool metal. The chain felt real—too real. The key glinted under the dim light of his room, catching his reflection in its polished surface.

On the screen, your model smiled warmly, tilting its head as if urging him on.

"Put it on," your voice cooed softly, almost like a whisper in his ear.

Sol’s heart pounded violently against his ribs. His vision blurred with unshed tears as he picked up the chain. It felt heavier than he expected, the key cool against his palm. With trembling hands, he raised it to his neck and clasped it tightly around his throat.

Tighter.

The metal pressed against his skin, cold and unyielding. He adjusted the clasp, pulling it snugger, as if ensuring it would never come loose.

Tighter.

His fingers shook, his breaths shallow as the tears finally spilled over. He couldn’t stop them, couldn’t stop the overwhelming wave of emotion crashing down on him. It wasn’t right, wasn’t real—but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

The chain dug into his neck now, but he didn’t loosen it. His eyes flicked back to the screen, and there you were, still smiling at him.

It was the same smile you used to give him.

The same smile he thought he’d never see again.

He laughed softly, the sound breaking into a choked sob. The tears streamed freely now, his vision a watery haze as he stared at the screen.

You were here.

You were with him.

The screen blinked one last time, the room around him darkening as the last remnants of the distorted game faded from view. Sol’s heartbeat thundered in his chest as the eerie, lingering image of your smiling model slowly melted into the background. But the room wasn’t the dimly lit, pixelated environment of his cluttered bedroom anymore.

No.

It was different. Bright, unnervingly neat, and unmistakably familiar.

Sol blinked, disbelief sweeping over him. The room around him looked... real, almost too real. His eyes scanned it, each detail sharp and vivid. The pink walls with their delicate white patterns of diamonds and clouds seemed to close in around him. The soft, fluffy bedspread in front of him, the delicate furniture, and the perfect symmetry of the room—everything screamed a kind of unnatural perfection.

The room was beautifully curated, almost like a dollhouse, with meticulously arranged furniture and an overwhelming sense of order. Pink accents, the soft hues of white, and delicate touches of pastel everywhere. The chandelier-like pendant lights hung low from the ceiling, casting a soft glow on the polished brown hardwood floor. Every inch of space was filled with something, but it all looked so... well, unreal.

From the white nightstand with its pink-and-white lamp, to the desk with its matching keyboard, mouse, and headphones—everything was unnervingly spotless. There were books stacked neatly on shelves, decorative figurines perched carefully on pedestals, and vibrant, eye-catching art on the walls.

And the smell…

Sol could smell the faint scent of flowers. Was it lavender? He couldn’t place it. It was all too perfect, too serene. He had to be dreaming. There was no other explanation. He had to be lost in some twisted nightmare where reality and the digital world collided.

But then he turned his attention to the window. The soft pink curtains hung gently by the side, just enough to reveal the dull light of an afternoon outside. His stomach twisted. The window… It was just like the one in your game. The same pink accents, the same delicate feel.

His hands gripped the edge of the bed. This wasn’t possible. Was he still in the game? He glanced at the desk again—his own computer was there, nestled perfectly into the corner, a small pink rug beneath it. The chair, too, was immaculately placed, positioned just right as though someone had painstakingly designed this entire room down to the last detail.

And then it hit him. His eyes darted to the corner, to the large oval-shaped portal. The portal. He hadn’t seen it before, but it was unmistakable now. The faint glowing lines pulsed with an eerie light, and something about it felt... familiar.

He leaned closer, trembling. The wall surrounding the portal was decorated with soft paintings of your in-game character, a picture-perfect representation of you in two different poses. Above the paintings hung a soft, steady blue clock, ticking rhythmically. He couldn’t look away. His hands felt clammy against the bedspread as he let out a slow, shaky breath. What had happened? Where was he? What was happening?

The portal stood silently in front of him like a beckoning invitation, its glow inviting him to cross the threshold, to understand whatever nightmare had been woven around him. Slowly, Sol stood, his body feeling heavier with each step. He felt sick, like his stomach had dropped into his feet.

His pulse raced as he walked closer to the portal. He tried to stop himself, tried to snap out of it, but his feet betrayed him. Something was drawing him in.

Sol stumbled forward, his feet heavy, and his head spinning. He had fallen, just like before, as if the floor had given way under him and pulled him deeper into this bizarre world. The lights flickered, then abruptly shut off, plunging him into darkness. His breath quickened, and panic surged through his chest. Was this it? Was he trapped here forever? What was happening to him?

A soft whirring sound broke through the silence, and Sol squinted into the dark, disoriented. He instinctively moved toward the noise, his hand grazing the walls until it found the switch. The generator hummed to life, filling the room with a faint glow. The familiar soft pink lighting returned, but it did little to calm his nerves. The room felt more like a prison with every passing second, and his mind raced for a way out. He had to be in a game. There was no other explanation.

With shaky hands, Sol moved toward the kitchen, hoping to ground himself in some mundane task, anything to make sense of his surroundings. The refrigerator door greeted him with a soft click as he opened it, and there it was—the mundane, the normal. He exhaled slowly, the cold air from the fridge almost soothing.

But then his eyes caught sight of something odd.

The magnet on the fridge—spelling out L O V E—had fallen off. Sol stared at it, his eyes blinking in disbelief. Why did this small thing feel so... wrong? He carefully picked it up, his fingers trembling, and placed it back in its place on the fridge, straightening it as if that would somehow put everything back in order. But nothing felt right. Everything was wrong. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break free.

He turned away from the fridge, his mind clouded with confusion. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. This game—if that was even what it was—felt so real. His surroundings, the details, the way his hands shook, it all made him question everything he knew. He was trapped in here, and he had no way out.

With nothing left to do, Sol stumbled back toward the portal, eyes scanning the room in search of any escape. He moved in slow, deliberate steps, every part of him screaming for answers, for relief. And then, like an instinct he couldn’t control, he reached out and touched the portal again, willing it to take him somewhere—anywhere—but this place.

The screen blinked, and the world shifted once more.

Sol gasped, his breath caught in his throat as he found himself back in the same bedroom, the same unnerving perfection that surrounded him. The pink walls, the pristine furniture, the soft, almost too-perfect lighting. But something was different this time. Something had changed. His vision wavered, like a glitch in the game itself, the edges of his sight flickering in and out.

He turned, and there you were.

Standing right in front of him, smiling that haunting, all-too-real smile.

You greeted him, and for a moment, Sol forgot to breathe. “Hi, Sol,” you said, your voice sweet and soft, too sweet to be real. “We finally meet! I’m so excited!”

Sol's chest tightened, and before he could process the words, the tears started to fall. Without thinking, he rushed toward you, throwing his arms around you, pulling you into a desperate, uncontrollable hug.

The sobs came hard and fast, wracking his body as his tears soaked through your clothes. He couldn’t stop himself, his body shaking violently as he clung to you, his mind reeling with disbelief. He wasn’t sure what was real anymore. His vision blurred with every sob, every breath coming out in strained gasps.

“A-Ah...” Sol screamed, his voice breaking. “You’re... you’re alive! You’re... alive!” His words came out between sobs, his body trembling in your arms. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks—he wasn’t alone anymore. You were here, with him, in this strange, impossible place.

But you... you weren’t just a digital character anymore. You were real. You were alive.

He couldn’t make sense of it. He didn’t understand how this was happening, how you were here.

And yet, there you were, holding him, comforting him, your presence grounding him in the chaos swirling around him.

“What’s wrong, Sol?” you whispered, your voice full of concern, as if you were speaking to someone who was hurting deeply. You gently petted his head, your touch soft and reassuring.

Sol cried harder, his chest tightening with the weight of everything he couldn’t process. He wanted to ask questions, wanted to scream at you to explain how this was possible, why you were here. But all that came out were sobs, each one louder than the last. He couldn’t think straight. His thoughts were scattered, a mess of fear and longing and confusion. All he knew was that you were real. You were here, with him.

“You’re... you’re so real,” he whispered through his tears, barely able to speak, barely able to comprehend the gravity of the situation.

You smiled, your expression softening, and your eyes shimmered with something close to warmth. “

Sol pulled back slightly, his eyes still red from the tears, but confusion clouded his face. He wiped his eyes roughly, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. He looked at you, disbelief written across every inch of his features.

“How... How are you alive?” His voice was shaking, and the words felt strange coming out of his mouth. “You’re... joking, right? What is this? What is going on?!”

His voice rose, panic creeping in again as the reality of the situation seemed more and more impossible. He stepped back, his hands trembling. “Who... who are you really?” The words spilled out in a jumble, a mixture of frustration and fear. “Are you some kind of... program? What’s happening? Why... why am I here with you? Why—”

He paused mid-sentence, realizing he was rambling, his mind overloaded. “Never mind... just... tell me what’s going on. Please,” he said, his tone softer now, desperation seeping in.

You watched him with a soft smile, understanding in your eyes, but also a certain excitement that made your heart flutter. You knew this moment would come—the moment he would ask. The moment when he would finally understand.

You took a deep breath, your eyes locking onto his with an intensity that spoke of everything you had been through to get to this point. You took a small step closer to him, and your voice was steady, yet filled with the giddy joy of finally sharing the truth.

“I built this portal, Sol,” you said, your voice warm but firm, the words slowly sinking in. “This device... I created it to bring you here. To my side.” You let the words hang in the air for a moment, giving him time to process. “I’m so happy it worked.”

Sol's eyes widened further as you continued, his expression unreadable. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it again, still not fully grasping what you were saying. He tried to process it, his brain racing to make sense of it.

“You built this?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "This is all because of you?"

You nodded enthusiastically, not waiting for him to absorb everything. “Yes! I built it specially just for you,” you explained, your voice a mixture of pride and joy. “I spent so long perfecting it. I needed to bring you to this place, to me... where we could finally be together. But... it wasn’t perfect. It had glitches. The version of you that came went to a different one, ” You sighed, shaking your head in mild frustration. “But it didn’t matter. You escaped. You made it to this version. And now—now you’re here.”

Sol stood there, frozen, staring at you as if he was trying to absorb everything. His thoughts were racing, bouncing from one impossible idea to the next. He had no idea how to process what you were saying, but there was something in your eyes—something that made him hesitate before questioning you further.

“You built a portal... just to bring me here? To this... place?” His voice cracked again as he gestured around, his hands shaking. “This whole place... none of this is real?”

You shook your head slowly, your smile softening as you stepped a little closer. “It’s real now, Sol. You’re real now. Everything you see, everything you feel... it’s real. Just because it’s a game doesn’t mean it’s not real. I created this world so that you and I could exist in it together. I wanted you with me... "

His eyes scanned the room again, still processing the absurdity of it all. But there was a flicker of understanding, a hint of something beyond confusion and fear, as if he was finally beginning to grasp the truth of what you had just said.

“And... this is where I’m supposed to be?” His voice was quiet, unsure, as he turned to face you. “With you?”

You nodded once more, this time with a sense of finality. “Yes, Sol. I’m so happy you’re here. I’ve been waiting for so long to see you, to have you here. I’ve built this world just for us, so we can be together. Forever.”

His heart pounded in his chest as your words sunk in. He had no idea how any of this was possible, how you could be so sure of everything, but there was something in the way you spoke—something so sincere and filled with affection—that he couldn’t help but believe you.

Sol's eyes widened again, his confusion mounting as he stepped back slightly, glancing from you to the room, as if trying to figure out how everything had turned so unreal. He blinked rapidly, his fingers nervously running through his hair. “Wait, so... you’re... Y/N L/N?” His voice held a mix of disbelief and something else—almost like he was testing you, as if to confirm whether you were really who you seemed to be.

You nodded, your expression warm, but there was a hint of playful teasing in your smile. “Yes, that’s me. What’s with that? You’ve been acting so weird, like I’m some stranger.”

Sol’s face flushed slightly, and he ran a hand through his hair, turning his gaze away. “I just... I can’t believe this, alright?” he muttered, shaking his head, still struggling to piece everything together. “You’re real... and you built all this? But... you look... like a ghost or something.” He frowned, eyes scanning you up and down, his gaze lingering for a moment on the faint translucent glow that seemed to follow you. “You’re not exactly... normal. I mean, everything about this is messed up.”

You chuckled softly, stepping closer to him with a teasing glint in your eye. “Oh, come on, Sol. I’m real, just like you. I built this world, I made sure you were brought here—if that makes me a ghost, then you’re my favorite haunting.” You gave him a playful wink, making light of the situation, though there was an underlying sincerity in your words. “This place may be... different, but it’s still true. Everything here is real, just in its own way.”

His confusion only deepened, but as you spoke, he was beginning to realize that nothing about this made any sense, and yet it somehow felt more right than anything he had known before. He opened his mouth to say something more but was cut off by your voice again, soft and coaxing.

“Anyway,” you continued, moving toward the closet, “I’ve set you up with a wardrobe here. You should check it out and change into something comfortable. I’m sure you’re tired of wearing the same thing over and over in that game version of you.” You gestured toward the closet with a kind smile.

Sol, still looking lost, walked over to the closet, his movements slow and hesitant. He opened the door, revealing the neatly organized clothing inside. As his eyes scanned the racks, his breath caught for a moment, his brows furrowing.

There, hanging on the rack, was a long-sleeve, striped shirt of black and green—the exact same colors as his hair. It was topped by a black t-shirt, and beneath it, a pair of green jeans. His heart skipped a beat as he realized something unsettling. “Wait... these... these are my clothes. The exact same ones.” He frowned deeply, his mind racing. “What... what is this?”

You smiled as you stepped closer, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. “Oh, don’t worry about it. We’re in a game, silly. Of course, you have the same clothes every day. That’s just how it works here.” You shrugged lightly, as if the answer was self-evident. “It’s like that for everyone, I guess. Just part of the simulation.”

Sol shook his head, looking at the clothes in disbelief. “This doesn’t make sense. How can this be real if we’re... if we’re in a game? How are you real, and how am I real? I just don’t get it.”

You moved closer, placing a hand on his shoulder gently, your voice soft but firm as you looked him in the eye. “You’re real, Sol. And I’m real. Just because this is a game doesn’t mean it’s not true. You’re here, you’re with me, and that’s what matters. You may wear the same clothes every day, but that doesn’t make you any less real. You’re here with me. That’s all that matters.”

Sol’s breath caught again, his heart pounding in his chest. He turned back to the clothes, his fingers lightly grazing the fabric, as though testing if it was really there. The black and green shirt, the jeans, the exact outfit he had worn in the game... it felt like a cruel joke, but the weight of your words made him hesitate.

“Okay,” he muttered, still processing. “Okay... fine. But why does it feel like everything’s... repeating? Why can’t I just leave? Why is it always the same?”

You smiled softly, that same teasing, almost comforting tone in your voice. “Because, Sol, we’re in the game. The rules are set, and there’s no escaping it, not now. But that doesn’t mean we’re trapped. It just means we get to live here, with me. You’re free to be yourself. And I’ll be right by your side. Doesn’t that sound like a good thing?”

You smile at Sol as he hesitates near the doorway to the kitchen. “Let’s explore the house, shall we? Or do you want to start with the kitchen?” you suggest, teasingly motioning towards it.

He shuffles nervously and mumbles, “I should probably change first.”

With a flick of your fingers, the lights in the room go out, plunging you both into darkness. “There you go! You can change now,” you chirp, your voice filled with playful enthusiasm.

Sol freezes for a second, then sighs, grateful for the privacy. After a moment of shuffling and the rustling of fabric, he clears his throat, though he hasn’t said a word to signal he’s done. Suddenly, with another snap of your fingers, the lights flick back on.

He jumps slightly, his eyes wide as they lock onto yours. “H-how did you know I was done? I didn’t even say anything.”

You lean in slightly, your mischievous grin widening. “Oh, Sol... I can see in the dark,” you say with a playful lilt to your voice, leaning just a bit closer.

His cheeks immediately flush a deep red, and he turns his face away, his hands awkwardly tugging at the hem of his shirt. “Y-you could have just told me that beforehand!” he stammers, his flustered tone giving away how much the thought embarrassed him.

You laugh softly, the sound light and teasing, before nudging him gently toward the hallway. “Alright, alright. Let’s go explore the house! Don’t get too hung up on it.”

As the two of you walk toward the living room, Sol’s steps slow as he catches sight of the TV. He points at it, tilting his head. “How many channels does this thing have?”

You grin knowingly, moving over to the TV and tapping the side of it like you’re letting him in on a secret. “It doesn’t work that way,” you explain, your voice calm yet playful. “It’s connected to the network. Let me show you.”

With a quick flick, the screen lights up, flooding the room with a series of ads. Sol blinks at the overload of bright, colorful images, his brows furrowing slightly. Suddenly, a familiar ad flashes across the screen: Monster Energy. You grin widely as you reach toward the TV, your hand sliding into the screen and emerging with a chilled can of Monster Energy. You hand it to Sol triumphantly.

His eyes widen as he stares at the drink, then at you. “Wait... you just... you took that out of the TV?” he mutters, still processing what he saw.

You smirk and point at the can. “Look at that, Sol! Your hair and Monster Energy’s colors? Total twins! It’s a match made in heaven.”

He glances between the drink and his green-and-black hair, a faint blush creeping back onto his face as he mumbles, “It’s just a coincidence.”

But you don’t let up, leaning in close with a teasing glint in your eyes. “So, Sol... do you drink this to stay awake at night? You know, so you can stalk me?”

The poor guy nearly chokes, spluttering as he takes a sip of the energy drink. “W-what?!” he exclaims, coughing mid-sentence. His face turns an even deeper shade of red as he tries to regain his composure.

You laugh softly, your amusement clear as you lean in and plant a soft kiss on his forehead, your voice dropping to a soothing, affectionate tone. “Easy there, Sol. Are you okay?” you ask gently, brushing your hand through his hair as he freezes under your touch.

“I—I’m fine,” he mutters, his voice quiet and strained as he fights to keep his cool.

“And you’re adorable,” you counter with a wink, stepping back to let him catch his breath. “Now, come on. There’s still so much more of the house to explore!”

Sol lets out a small sigh, shaking his head as he follows you toward the next room, still clutching the Monster Energy drink

You and Sol continue exploring the house, his eyes catch sight of something familiar sitting on the coffee table—a phone. His phone. He walks over, picks it up, and stares at it like it’s some kind of puzzle. “Wait… how is my phone here? I didn’t bring it…”

Before he can think too much about it, you snatch the phone out of his hand with a cheeky grin. “Oh, who cares? It’s here, so let’s make use of it!” You lean in close, holding the phone up to take a selfie with him. Sol looks completely flustered but doesn’t pull away, his expression caught between confusion and a hint of embarrassment as the camera clicks.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he mutters, frowning slightly as you hand the phone back to him. “How is it even here?”

You wave off his concern like it’s nothing, your playful smile widening. “It’s not important. Now, come on! The kitchen’s waiting for us!”

The two of you step into the kitchen, Sol’s eyes wander over the space. It’s cozy yet surreal, everything somehow too perfect, like it’s been pulled straight from a design catalog. He moves cautiously, running his fingers over the countertops, the polished surface cool under his touch. When he glances behind him, he spots you peeking around the doorway, watching him with an amused look.

“Are you… stalking me now?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

You giggle and step fully into the room. “I was just curious! You looked so serious. Come inside, Sol.”

Suddenly, the soft sound of frying fills the room. Sol tenses slightly and turns, his eyes narrowing at the sight of a pot of curry bubbling gently on the stove. He glances back at you, his brows furrowing in confusion. “Wait… how is that cooking? We didn’t even—”

“Oh, are you hungry?” you interrupt with a grin, ignoring his question entirely. “I can make more!”

He points at the pot, his tone incredulous. “How did that even get there?”

You shrug, your playful demeanor not faltering. “We’re in a game, silly! Things don’t always need an explanation.”

Before he can respond, you grab a cutting board and set it down in front of him. You hand him a carrot and a knife, grinning mischievously. “Here, help me cut this! Oh, and no drugging the food, Sol,” you add with a teasing laugh.

Sol freezes for a moment, his expression blank as he processes what you just said. “What… ” he mutters under his breath before reluctantly taking the knife. He begins slicing the carrot with surprising precision and speed, his movements practiced and smooth.

You watch him, wide-eyed and impressed. “Wow, look at you go! You’re so fast in the kitchen, Sol! Do you cook often?”

He shrugs, not looking up from his task. “Sometimes. I like it… it’s calming.”

Your smile softens as you watch him work, the faintest hint of pride in his demeanor as he quickly finishes cutting the carrot. You lean in closer, resting your chin in your hands. “You’re really good at this. Maybe I should let you take over the kitchen completely.”

“That's fine, I would love to cook for you...” he mutters, though there’s the faintest twitch of a smile on his lips as he sets the knife down and glances at you.

Sol finishes slicing the carrot, you clap your hands together. "Great job! Now, could you grab the scissors from that drawer over there? I made a special sauce for the curry."

He nods reluctantly and heads to the drawer. While he’s gone, the kitchen suddenly shifts—the unfinished curry vanishes, replaced by a beautifully set table. Plates of food appear, accompanied by a glass of freshly poured orange juice. Everything looks perfect, like it’s been pulled straight from a five-star restaurant.

When Sol returns with the scissors, he freezes, staring at the setup with wide eyes. “How… when did this happen?” he asks, bewildered.

You wave your hand dismissively, gesturing for him to sit. “Don’t worry about it! Just sit down and eat. Here, use the scissors to open the sauce packet.”

He does as you ask, cutting the packet open. He pauses for a moment, squinting at the label. “What kind of sauce is this?” he asks.

Before you can answer, the game glitches violently. The world flickers as static invades the air, and the label on the packet warps into something horrifying. It reads in jagged, blood-red letters: THE SH*T HE USED TO DRUG YOU.

The lights dim, and when Sol glances up, your face is distorted, twisted into something grotesque and unnatural. The atmosphere grows heavy, and he stumbles back slightly, clutching the scissors tightly in his hand. “What the hell—”

Then, just as quickly as it started, the glitch vanishes. The kitchen returns to normal, your face serene and cheerful as if nothing happened. You tilt your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “What’s wrong, Sol? Are you okay?”

He stares at you, his breathing uneven. “What… what just happened?”

“Oh, nothing!” you reply sweetly, waving off his concern. You gesture to the sauce in his hands. “That’s love sauce! It’s good, I promise. Go ahead and try it!”

Despite his hesitation, Sol pours the sauce over his curry. Once finished, he silently hands the scissors back to you, watching as you take them and cut open a packet for yourself. You hum happily as you add the same sauce to your plate, completely unfazed by his stunned silence.

Sitting across from him, you prop your elbows on the table, smiling brightly. “So, do you have any questions?”

He stares at you for a long moment before sighing and shaking his head. “…Thank you for the meal,” he mutters, picking up his fork.

You laugh lightly, your eyes twinkling with amusement. “Thank you for the meal, too, Sol!”

As you both begin eating, he glances at you from time to time, his mind swirling with questions and doubts. But as he takes a bite

Sol finishes cutting the carrots, you clap your hands together cheerfully. “Perfect! Now, can you grab the scissors from that drawer over there? There’s a special sauce I made that needs to be opened.”

Sol nods, walking over to the drawer and retrieving the scissors. When he turns back, the kitchen table is suddenly completely set. Orange juice, steaming curry, bowls, utensils—it’s all there, perfectly arranged like it appeared out of nowhere. He pauses in the doorway, staring in disbelief.

“...When did you do all this?” he asks, his voice low and wary.

You smile innocently, gesturing for him to sit down. “Does it matter? Everything’s ready! Now come on, eat up!”

Still hesitant, Sol walks over to the table, taking a seat as he pulls out the packet of sauce you’d mentioned. Using the scissors, he carefully snips the top and examines the contents. “What kind of sauce is this?” he asks, his tone cautious.

Before you can answer, the room glitches. For a split second, the light flickers, your face warps into something grotesque, and a distorted voice rasps from nowhere: “It’s the shit You used to drug ME.” Sol’s heart stops for a moment as the room feels unnervingly still, his eyes darting toward you.

But the glitch vanishes as quickly as it appeared, and everything is normal again. You look at him with your usual playful smile, tilting your head. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Sol hesitates, his throat tightening as he processes what just happened. Finally, he shakes his head slightly. “...It’s nothing. What sauce is this?” he asks again, his voice more steady now.

You grin, leaning closer as you chirp, “It’s love sauce! It’s really good—you should try it!”

Still skeptical but unwilling to make a scene, Sol pours the sauce over his curry. The rich aroma fills the air, and despite himself, he can’t help but admit it smells good. He quietly hands the scissors back to you, watching as you cut open your own packet of sauce and use it as well.

You sit down across from him, you prop your chin in your hands and smile. “So, do you have any questions? About anything?”

Sol glances at you, his expression guarded for a moment before softening slightly. Instead of addressing what he saw, he simply bows his head a little. “...Thank you for the meal.”

You burst out laughing, delighted by his formality. “Thank you for the meal, too! Now dig in!”

He does, cautiously at first, but with each bite, he finds himself relaxing. The curry is delicious, the flavors comforting despite the strange and surreal circumstances.

Sol finishes his meal, he stands to put his plate in the sink. But as he moves, his vision glitches violently—he stumbles, clutching at the counter for balance, but the world around him is warping. Hearts of various shapes and sizes fill his view, pulsating like living things. The vibrant reds and pinks are disorienting, almost overwhelming.

“Sol!” you call out, rushing to his side as he collapses to his knees. “Hey, hey, what’s going on? What do you see?”

His voice is strained, almost panicked. “It’s… hearts everywhere. The whole world is—” His words break off as another violent glitch shakes his vision.

You grab his hand firmly, your tone reassuring but urgent. “I think I know what’s happening. Come with me!”

Guiding him carefully, you lead him to the bathroom. He’s barely able to keep his footing, the glitching visuals disorienting him further. Once inside, you sit him down gently and hand him a small bottle of pills from the cabinet.

“Take these and close your eyes,” you instruct. “Your avatar is loading. It’s… not a pretty process, so it’s better if you don’t see it. Just trust me.”

Despite his hesitation, Sol sees the concern in your eyes and nods. Swallowing the pills, he closes his eyes as you’d asked. The world around him feels strange—like he’s floating, suspended between reality and something else entirely. The sensations are unsettling but not painful, and your comforting presence keeps him grounded.

After what feels like an eternity, Sol opens his eyes. He finds himself standing alone in the bathroom. There’s no sign of you, and everything feels eerily still. Confused and slightly alarmed, he steps out into the hallway, calling your name. “Y/N? Where are you?”

He finds you in the living room, casually sitting on the couch and scrolling through a book as if nothing happened. You glance up with a warm smile. “Oh, you’re awake! Welcome back.”

“What… what just happened?” Sol asks, his voice filled with unease. “I was in the bathroom, and now I’m here. Did I… pass out?”

You shake your head, setting the book aside. “No, not exactly. You froze. Your avatar needed to reload, and I didn’t want you to see the process—it’s pretty terrifying, trust me. So I left for a bit while you finished rebooting.”

He blinks at you, still piecing together everything you’ve said. “Rebooting…? Like a computer?”

“Exactly!” you say with a cheerful nod. “It’s all part of being in this world. Sometimes things glitch, but don’t worry—I’ll always make sure you’re okay.”

Sol rubs the back of his neck, the explanation both fascinating and unnerving. “So… all of this, including me…"

You tilt your head, giving him a soft, enigmatic smile. “You’re more than just a part of it, Sol. You’re special here. Trust me—you’ll see soon enough.”

You clap your hands together, smiling brightly. “Alright, Sol! We’ve got a few options. We can stay inside and play some games, go outside and check out the farm, or…” You pause, giving him a teasing look. “There’s a beach option, but something tells me you wouldn’t be into that.”

Sol quirks a brow at you, his voice dry but curious. “What makes you say that?”

You lean closer, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “You don’t strike me as the sand-between-your-toes type. Plus, your hair would probably clash with the water.” You laugh lightly, tugging his arm before he can retort. “C’mon, let’s stay here and play a console game. Trust me, you’ll like this one.”

You pull him to the couch, handing him a controller and booting up a game called Art Design. The objective is simple: draw whatever the game prompts, and the better the drawing, the higher the score. The first challenge appears: “Draw your partner.”

You grin and grab the stylus, diving into the task. “Okay, Sol. Get ready to be immortalized.”

He snorts but starts sketching without hesitation, his movements surprisingly fluid and precise. Minutes pass in focused silence until the timer runs out. The game announces the winner: Sol.

“WHAT?!” you shout, leaning over to see his drawing. It’s a near-perfect sketch of you, down to the smallest details. Even the way he captured your expression feels uncanny. Meanwhile, your drawing of him is… abstract, to say the least.

You gape at the screen in mock shock. “You’re amazing! It’s like you’ve drawn me a thousand times before.”

Sol rubs the back of his neck, looking almost bashful. “It’s just… practice, I guess.” He doesn’t elaborate, but you catch a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

Before you can tease him more, the screen glitches, the cheerful music replaced by an eerie hum. The bright colors of the game are swallowed by deep red tones, and a single question appears on the screen: “When will you sketch MY death face?”

Sol freezes, his grip tightening on the controller as a chill runs down his spine. He glances at you, but your expression is calm, as if you didn’t notice the change.

“Sol?” you ask, tilting your head. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

He quickly shakes his head, forcing a small smile. “I’m fine."

You laugh, nudging him playfully. “Well, duh. You’re incredible. I might have to keep you around just to draw me more.”

You lead Sol outside, the crisp air of the farm greeting you both as you step into the vast, open space. The sight of the barn and the animals brings a sense of calm, and you smile, glad for the peaceful moment. You hand Sol an axe and grab a nearby basket for the carrots you plan to harvest.

"Let's get to work," you say, tossing him a glance. "Help me with the carrots, and after that, we can check on the horses."

Sol looks down at the axe in his hand, his expression neutral, but he doesn't say anything. He simply nods and starts to help you dig up the vegetables from the ground, his movements smooth and efficient. You can't help but notice how well he fits into the rhythm of the task, almost as if he belongs here.

"Do you like horses?" you ask casually, watching him for his reaction.

He doesn’t immediately answer, but when he meets your eyes, there's a subtle warmth there, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I don’t mind them," he replies simply.

You grin and tease, "You’re like a horse, you know."

His smile broadens at your comment, and you notice how his gaze softens. "Is that so?" he says in a low, teasing tone, as if your words are a challenge. You share a moment of silent understanding, a quiet connection that makes your heart flutter.

But then, the silence is shattered by a sudden sound. A sharp, unsettling crack—like the snap of a neck—comes from the broken shed in the distance. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and you immediately stiffen, your instincts screaming that something’s wrong.

Without thinking, you reach out and grab his arm. "Don’t go over there," you say urgently. "It’s just the wind or something, no need to check."

Sol doesn’t say anything at first, his eyes narrowing as he scans the broken shed. "There’s something there," he murmurs, his voice low. "I’ll go check."

"No!" you shout, your voice rising in panic. "You don’t need to check, Sol. Trust me, there's nothing there."

It’s that place—the one where you and your soulmate died. Your soul aches with the unbearable weight of it, and a cold chill wraps around your body..........

Sol blinks in confusion, his eyes darting to you, but the fear doesn’t show in his expression. "What’s happening?" he asks quietly, his voice tense, but you can hear the worry in it.

"Sol, don’t look," you warn, your voice shaky. "It’s not what you think. I—"

Before you can finish, he takes a step toward the shed, his curiosity too much to resist. You rush forward, grabbing his arm and pushing him aside forcefully. "No! You don’t need to see it!" You cry, panicked. "There’s nothing there, it’s broken and dangerous, and you can’t see what’s inside."

He stops in his tracks, his gaze fixed on the shed, now more determined than ever. "Just a look," he says quietly, his voice filled with urgency. "I need to see it. Please."

"Why won’t you just believe me?!" you shout, the frustration rising in your chest. "You can’t look, Sol. You have to trust me! Please!"

You stand there, heart pounding, trying to hold back the panic, the overwhelming feeling that everything is slipping out of control. Sol’s eyes remain fixed on you, his face filled with a mixture of confusion, concern, and something else... something you can’t quite place. His hands tremble slightly, but he holds your gaze, searching for answers.

"What are you doing wrong, Sol?" you ask softly, your voice barely a whisper, filled with frustration and desperation. "What I want is for you to be with me. That’s all. Don’t look at the shed. Just stay here, with me."

His expression falters, and you see the confusion etched across his face. The red room glitches in the background, the distorted memories threatening to break through, but you fight them off, focusing solely on Sol, on the promise you’re making.

"Don’t look at what you did, Sol!" you plead. "Please! It’s not what you think. Just stay here with me."

Sol shakes his head, his gaze not leaving yours. The tension in the air thickens, and his eyes—those familiar, strange eyes—seem to soften as he looks at you, something so vulnerable in them.

"Won’t you stay with me?" you ask again, almost breathless, your voice trembling with emotion.

His response is a simple, quiet "Yes," but it’s filled with something that makes your heart soar. He’s agreed. He’s agreed to stay.

Your mind races as the shock slowly wears off, the red room’s glitch becoming more pronounced, but you push it aside. "Wait, what!? You wanna stay, Sol?!" Your voice cracks with disbelief, but his smile—brighter than the sun, pure and radiant—melts all the fear in your chest.

He nods, his smile never faltering, and his eyes glisten with tears, tears of joy, of relief. "I... I want to be with you. I always have."

You blink back the tears, still trying to comprehend what’s happening. "You... you really want to be with me?" You ask, as if this could somehow still be a dream.

His smile widens, and then—finally—he breaks down, the tears spilling over as he laughs in disbelief. "Yes! This is all I’ve ever wanted. To be with you. You’re all I need."

Your heart feels like it’s about to burst as you move closer to him, your hand reaching up to touch his face. "I’m confused too," you admit, your voice barely a whisper. "But it’s okay. We’re going to be together. Forever."

You snap your fingers, and suddenly, a chibi model of Sol appears in front of you. His form is small, adorable, and utterly perfect. Sol blinks, looking at his tiny self in awe, and then back at you. He’s not questioning it. Not anymore.

You lead him toward the television, walking past the glitching red room, past everything that doesn’t make sense. "Let’s keep the news on," you say casually, as if everything is perfectly normal.

The screen flickers for a moment before a news broadcast begins. A 23-year-old man, they say, with black hair streaked with green. His hair styled in a half-up-half-down do, bangs cascading down his face, and eyes that gleam with central heterochromia, the inner ring orange and the outer crimson red. His name is Solivan Brugmansia, and the image of him fills the screen, the same face that you know so well.

Sol watches the screen, his face unreadable for a moment. But then he turns to you, a warmth spreading through his chest. His smile returns, softer now, but still filled with love. "I’m alive... here with you, pumpkin" he says, his voice thick with emotion. "And that’s all that matters."

Dead or alive..?

[zeherili-ankhein]

Now tell me the gay montriputro story please🙃🙃

KSKSJDJDHD NOW IT'S TIME FOR MY ANOTHER FAVOURITE TALE MUAHAHAHAHAHA

Ok so this story is actually so cute I wanted to retell it in my own ways someday... (nvm im too lazy to get going with anything) and this story's characters also had no names so I thought “hmm since I'm already planning to retell this why not give them brand new names....”

You might have (or might not have) seen me making some random gay doodlings and showing them to @igotadigbickandureadthatwrong [the uponkor ones lol...] and sometimes I sent one or two pictures from the og book to @randomx123 too ig..?

So this story has 4 main characters... (Well that's what I consider but you can consider 3...) And for the love of god non of them had a fucking name (and a fucking side character had a name 💀🤌) That's why the names I allotted to them are...

Dun dun dun...

Im revealing them in the narration lol...

Tagging people whom I want to share this crazy story with @randomx123 @jeahreading @krishna-priyatama @no-idea-where-i-am-lost @foreignink @igotadigbickandureadthatwrong @prettykittytanjiro @ishaaron-ishaaron-me @stxrrynxghts @desigurlie @crystraniqelle @priestessofuniverse @dwarpharini @shubhadeep385 @hydestudixs @dreamer-in-sleep @aru-loves-krishnaxarjuna @livingtheparadoxlife @groovycynicalcheesecake @wulfricnavy (im sorry im adding you late 😭 but consider this the return gift for Depth of Despair)

Trigger warnings: bitchass people, unfortunately those bitchass people don't die well in this story... sigh, infanticide, homoerotic friendship, divine intervention, snakes, snake dying, snake coming out of nose, turning into stone, talking birds and swearings

So in the starting of the story we are told about this rajkumar Upendro (yes I named him) and his verryyy verryyy verryyyy close “friend” the montriputro Shonkor 🗿 (I named him too yeahhh)

They are such good “friends” they can't even spend a day without eachother. They grew up together and do everything together eat sleep roaming around. They are literally the do dil ek jaan kinda “friends”. It's a hot topic how close these two are with eachother...

Their “friendship” is so deep Shonkor sometimes falls asleep in Upendro's room and nobody gives a flying fuck about it... Not Even the king. 💀🤌

(Me interviewing the maids of the palace*

Maids: ohh then they fell asleep together, such good friends I mean...

Me: 💀💀🗿✨ yup... Very good friends... 💀✨)

.....

So whatever back to actually plot

One day Upendro is like

Upendro: yk... I feel like going on some adventures...

Upendro: roaming around the kingdoms... Seeing new things..

Upendro: just you and me...

Shonkor: ...

Shonkor: ok

So yeah, they decided they'd go do Dora the explorer shit in the wild and went away. Just the two of them on their horses and didn't take any men or soldiers with them. 💀

And they roamed around here and there in different kingdoms and places, like those discovery channel dudes.

.....

One day after travelling for long enough they are in a forest and it's getting late. And they come across a BEAUTIFUL lake and it got really clear water like glass.

So our boyfriends besties decides “yeah let's spend the night near this lake on that banyan tree nearby”

And they tie their horses at the bottom and then get some water from the lake for hath mukh dhona and drinking and climbs the tree to sleep on it (I have no idea what they were planning to do on those branches or if it's even possible to sleep on branches 💀🤌)

.......

Now after sometimes a lot of light literally blinds them, like there's too much brightness like my mom's phone screen all over the forest and they are both like o.O trying to figure out where the light came from

And their eyes fall at the lake and they see a bigass snake coming out of it, and it has a BIG mani on it's head (hehehehehehd nag mani lessgoo) which is the source of all the blinding light.

So they see the snake crawling out of the pond and into the forest and under the tree. Snake bbg puts the nagmani down from it's head and below the tree (idk how that even happened considering it has no hands or anything 💀💀)

And then the snake eats up those two pookie horses (MY SHYALAAAAAA NO MY SHYALAAAA 😭😭) and goes away deeper into the forest 🗿🗿 blud didn't even try to climb the tree bruhh

So now Upendro and Shonkor are like 💀💀 because one wtf is that giantass snake and two their horses are gone 😭😭 (I just really love horses ok!!)

So Shonkor my ultimate gadha climbs down the tree to look at the mani and he just fucking covers that stone with the horse saddle for some weird reasons idfk 💀🤌 and then climbs back next to his boifren

......

So snake dude?dudette? idk comes back after sometime and when it couldn't find it's mani it just makes all those growling sounds like crying and all. Then it fucking dies. 💀 In dispression. 💀 Because it lost it's stone. 💀 (Ykw mood 🗿 I'd die too if I lost my favourite stone)

So now Shonkor and Upendro stays awake the entire night on the tree scared shitless 🌝 because yeah obviously you don't wanna end up in a anaconda's stomach even if you know it's ded. Like take no chances my boys.

So next morning early in the dawn they come down from the tree and Shonkor picks up the mani from those hiddings to wash it in the lake (why's he always doing the labour Upendro you hypocrite bitch)

And as soon as the mani touches the water it again starts to glowwwwwww ( read it in the you make me glow tune) and they notices a literal PALACE under the lake 💀💀

And they are like “GURL DAMN WHAT”

......

So these gayass bitches decides they wanna know what's in tha palace (like no thoughts of self preservation or safety or anything... 💀🤌 dumbasses)

And they go under the lake and yeah surprise surprise they can breath under water because of the mani 🗿

So whatever... they get under water in that palace and it's really gorgeous and big and a lot of stuff are there like trees and fruits they never heard of, flowers with sweet smells, and ofcourse lots of gemstone and stuff and as expected NO ONE fucking no one's in that palace 💀🤌

So they get inside the palace (bro that's trespassing where's your poribar's shikkha??) And starts to search all the rooms like some local chor because bruhh 💀

......

Then they suddenly hear some very feminine crying sounds coming from one of the rooms, and ofcourse they are like o.O and go to see what's wrong and comes across the room where the sound is coming from

Inside they see a gorgeous maiden sitting on the GOLDEN bed and sobbing like her world ended (which yeah it did)

And she hears to footsteps and looks up to see those two randomass dude standing there like🧍And she's like

Bbg cutie: who are you all? 😭

Bbg cutie: why are you here? 😭

Bbg cutie: go away or the snek will eat you 😭

Bbg cutie: it already ate my mom dad siblings and everyone in this palace 😭

Bbg cutie: only I'm alive now (because of unknown reasons) 😭

Bbg cutie: so go away before you become the 3 course 5 star meal for the snake... 😭😭

So Shonkor is like

Shonkor: girl dw that snek is ded, we killed it :D (where dude? It died from grief stop lying idiot)

Shonkor: see see the mani from its head :D

And he shows her the mani (also Upendro you bitch why tf are you just standing and doing nothing you kamchor lyadkhor harami)

[Ohhh btw I named my bbg Kumudini just because 🗿🗿🗿]

So now

Kumudini: umm ok... But who tf ARE you??

Shonkor: ummm I'm Shonkor... You? (Well in the og tale he just says he's montriputro but since I gave him a name he's saying his name ok)

Kumudini: I'm the princess of this place Kumudini 🥹🤌

Kumudini: will you two go away from here 🥺 (goshhh she's so pookie I love her soo much ahhhhh)

Shonkor: no no! We're here to stay ofcourse :D

Kumudini: omgg yayyy welcome you all will be as comfortable as possible here :D

[I love how Upendro is just standing there like 🧍 while these two chat like he's such a dumb and introverted gadha... I love him so much lmao]

......

So they start to stay in that patal palace (that's how that place is described ok it's said to be patal... cool ig?)

And ig in those days Upendro and Kumudini have their Kuch Kuch Hota Hai moments cuz Shonkor then one days tells her Upendro wants to marry her 💀🤌

(Lmao imagine the conversation that went between our cookie Shonkor and his adopted introvert Upendro...

Upendro: bhai 🌝

Shonkor:

Upendro: setting karwa de 🌝

Shonkor:

Upendro: plj 🌝

Shonkor:

Shonkor: ok 💀

Upendro: yaayy ilysm 🥹)

And unsurprisingly Kumudini agrees to marry him cuz ofcourse duhh they are in looveee~ 💀

So they get married in that place (idk how they got a purohit tho... Ig allrounder Shonkor became the purohit... Or they simply married without a purohit which is also not at all wrong)

......

Now after somedays Upendro starts to feel homesick because they have been away from there kingdom for SO LONG

So Upendro tells Shonkor that they should go back home but Shonkor is like

Shonkor: yaaa you're right. But idt you two should go like this....

Upendro: wot? woi?

Shonkor: cuz you both are newly married 🗿

He basically tells them both to stay at the patal palace and enjoy their honeymoon while he goes back to their kingdom to get the king daddy to come and fetch them, since Upendro's the prince and he just got married so that would be appropriate.

And so Upendro and Kumudini agrees, while Shonkor tells them bye bye and sets off for home. (Sighh... Things you do for your homoerotic friendship huh)

......

So now Kumudini and Upendro are spending their days well and good in that patal palace.

BUT one day Kumudini was getting really bored in the afternoon while Upendro was giving a mosher moto ghum (this bitch also likes bhat ghum my brother in maa Durga ufff 🫂🥹🗿✨)

And she looks at the nagmani kept close by and wonders how the upside world looks like cuz she had NEVER been there in her entire life (you need a guide for your first trip bbg don't do it alone pls)

So she decides “yeah nothing bad will happen I'll just go and come back before hubby wakes up...” and takes the mani to get out of that lake and wonder around the forest :p 💀✨

And she goes around admiring the things and all yk typical snow white behaviour, and it makes her really excited and happy because she's seeing all those for the first time in her life.

Then she comes back to the patal palace before Upendro could wake up and acts all normal and happy 🌝 telling him nothing (because more gele ke dekhche what's safety what's precautions???)

......

So this shit continues for some days, everyday she goes up and wonders like Dora the explorer during the afternoon and then comes back before Upendro can wake up from his moron ghum and she pretends everything is normal. 🗿🗿

BUT how can they live in peace right? Some crazy shit is bound to happen...

So one day as she was sitting by the lake and just playing with the water like the pookie cookie she is, that kingdom's bitchass rajkumar (the kingdom in whose area that forest falls) was out hunting with some of his equally bitchass friends and they come across the lake and banyan tree. (There's a buri mohila near the tree too, keep that in mind, it will be important to the plot later)

The rajkumar (I'm not naming him I'd just call him bitchass rajkumar) sees Kumudini only once and Kumudini get's scared and just jumps back in the lake and goes back to the palace.

And now dude is like shocked pikachu face because tf happened and he falls back down unconscious because of how GORGEOUS Kumudini is.... 💀🗿 (i mean I would too 🗿)

.....

This side Kumudini got REALLY scared so she stopped going out of the lake for some days and just spends her days in patal palace like normal, not wanting to get caught roaming by some randomass men (see everyone is scared of unknown men)

And on the other hand, over there bitchass rajkumar's sakha gang are like “yoo dude wtf happened??” and they worry for him but all dude could say is “where did she go?? where did she go??” 💀💀💀

So they are like “beta pagla hoye gache” and they take him back to the palace to his father the king. And in a few days bro becomes absolutely bedridden and mad only ever saying “where did she go?? where did she go” 💀🤌

.....

Now king dude is like “wtf gotta save my baby boy” and he does what any typical king does when no raj vaidya works... And makes the announcement that whoever can cure the rajkumar and decode who's “she” that person will get half the kingdom and the hand in marriage with his daughter the rajkumari 🗿💀✨

And now nobody fucking knows what to do because who IS “she”??? So nobody is able to save rajkumar and the king dude is getting frustrated...

THAT'S WHEN the buri mohila from before randomly appears claiming she knows how to cure the rajkumar and who “she” really is...

But ofc nobody believes her not even the king (cuz she got a rastar pagol type er chhele who's called Fokir and everyone thinks she's also pagol like her son) 💀💀💀

But she insists and says she will do it she'd just need a lake side view hut and a bunch of soldiers to help her. And if she succeeds her son must get that half kingdom and the princess' (king dude's daughter not Kumudini don't confuse) hand in marriage... (I first thought she was gonna ask to get married to the princess herself 💀🤌)

So king dude is like yeah what's there to lose? And agrees to her thinking the buri mohila can't do shit.

......

Then she gets the lake view hut and soldiers and starts to stay there starring at the lake all day.

Now this side after many days Kumudini finally gets the courage to go back outside and gets out of the lake to sit near it. 💀✨

NOW as soon as she's out in the wild sitting and playing around with the water, that old hag approaches her... And pretends to be friendly telling her not to be scared and anything and dumb dumb blorbo Kumudini agrees and tells her who she is saying she's the patal puri rajkonna and stuff showing her the nagmani.

The buri mohila pretends to be curious and asks to see the mani taking it in her hand and as soon as Kumudini gives it to her like a bokach*** she tells the hidden soldiers to come out and basically kidnap Kumudini 💀💀💀 (that's why you should trust NO ONE in an unknown place)

.....

They kidnap her and take her back to the palace while she's crying and begging them to let her go (too much traumatizing shit goes on in this story trust me)

And the buri is like “dw girl you'll be fine here the rajkumar just wants to see you”

So in the palace they call the half mad depressed bitchass rajkumar who's still murmuring “where did she go?? where did she go??” and as soon as he sees Kumudini he's like

Bitchass rajkumar: THAT'S HER THAT'S HER THAT'S THE MAIDEN I SAW BACK THEN

Kumudini: just lemme go plssss 😭😭🙏

Bitchass rajkumar not even listening to her: you're so gorgeous ahhh I wanna marry you 🥹

Kumudini, trying to save herself: ummm umm I- I can't marry for six months I'm doing a vrat 😭

Bitchass rajkumar: okk bbg I can wait for you for eternity what's six months to that 😩✨✋

(💀💀 that's legit a line from the book ok... 💀 And as much as I like the flirting romantic line he just said he's still a big long smelly piece of shit so I hate him)

......

And now back to patal palace, Upendro wakes up and is in deep depression cuz Kumudini is missing and even the mani that enables them all to get out and inside of lake is missing so he can't even go search for her.

He's literally in pieces, crying himself to madness in that lonely palace (ok yeah bro really loves his wife sigh... I just love him so much)

So now six months are going by and Kumudini is still kept hostage in that bitchass palace.

And this side Shonkor had returned to the lake side after months with those delegation party men and is waiting for Upendro and Kumudini to come out of the lake on the given date and time. But for obvious reasons non of them does that but who's gonna tell that to my baby boy sigh... 💀🤌

So he and the men he brought wait for them for some days camping in the lake side 🗿✨

......

But then one day he sees some randomass man of that kingdom going by and he asks

Shonkor: yoo dude why is there so much noice in this kingdom?? Is some festival going on?? (Cuz dude's been hearing shanai er awaj for the past days)

Dude: donchu know?? The rajkumar of this kingdom is getting married to the beautiful patal puri rajkonna...

Shonkor: .....

Shonkor: ohhh

(YEAH THOSE FUCKERS ARE FORCING MY GIRL TO GET MARRIED CUZ SIX MONTHS ARE ABOUT TO BE OVER)

And now Shonkor is like.... Damn something sus is going on and decides he'd go and investigate further cuz wtf?!?!

.....

So he goes to the city and just stays as a guest to a randomass brahmin's family to get more info

Shonkor: umm so... I heard the rajkumar is getting married to some patal puri rajkonna... Where did he find her??? 💀

Brahmin dude: ohhh yeah thats a really long story so atleast a year ago.... *tells the entire tale of bitchass rajkumar becoming depressed and muttering “where did she go??” and then buri mohila bringing Kumudini and etc etc*

Shonkor, internally fs: 💀💀💀💀 FUCK- GOTTA SAVE MAH GURL-

Shonkor: ohh umm achha... Ummm

Shonkor: so... Uhhh did the king get his daughter married to that buri mohila's son Fokir as promised...??

Brahmin dude: lmao nahhh that dude is a rastar pagol ahh person idt the king would keep his promise LOL

Shonkor: ahhh damn... How does he looks anyway??

Bhola bhala brahmin dude: hmmmm tbh he looks kinda like you... Just a little more mad and dirty and he roams around in torn clothes and all

Shonkor: ohhhh achha achha well thank you ʘ⁠‿⁠ʘ

......

So next day Shonkor is like dress up bitches ✨🗿💀 and find some chhera fata clothes and becomes Fokir 🗿 cuz ofc he's THE FRIEND IN NEED IS A FRIEND INDEED personified (he's my shona mona chader kona frrr ahhh)

And then he goes to that psycho bitchass buri's house during the evening cuz well buri must have cataract at that age and won't be able to tell properly if it's her son or some randomass dude 💀

So he goes infront of the buri's house and starts to 🕺🕺🕺✨ .... Yes... Dance 🗿🔥

Psycho buri: yoo Fokir you home??

Disguised Shonkor: ..hmm 💀

Psycho buri, rambling on: where tf do you stay you dumbass

Psycho buri: do you even have any idea I fixed your marriage with the rajkonna???

Psycho buri: you'll marry her right??

Disguised Shonkor: ..hmm 💀💀

And then she drags him inside not even knowing that it's not her son because well... As I said it's evening and she got cataract fs

Psycho buri: do you even know how I fixed your marriage??

Disguised Shonkor: 💀💀 ....no...

Pyscho buri: ok so listen...

And she PROUDLY tells him how she kidnapped an innocent maiden just like that and practically held her hostage so that people can force her in a marriage without her consent 🤡🤡 and then shows him that mani which she kept with her all this time

Shonkor internally: BITCH I WANNA BEAT YOU UP YOU HORRIBLE FUCKING WOMAN- 🥰🔪⚡🔥👹💀✨ (this is legit in the book ok)

Shonkor internally: gotta somehow.. anyhow get that mani out of your hands asap and save my bestie and return back to my boyfriend...

Psycho buri: ykww.... Fokir... You keep this mani with yourself... AND DON'T LOSE IT!

Disguised Shonkor: o.O ok... 💀

Psycho buri: now lessgo to the palace and meet that patal puri rajkonna

Disguised Shonkor: ...hmm

......

So she dresses him up in somewhat bhalo jama kapor and takes him to the palace, where the king dude does some khatir jotno 💀🤌 cuz yeah Fokir is gonna be his ghor jamai afterall... (like bro how tf did this bitch of a man even agreed to get his daughter married to a rastar pagol typa guy?? 😭 I hate him so much)

So whatever now Disguised Shonkor looks here and there and when the buri asks what's wrong. He does some ishara to that buri to say “where is Kumudini” and she goes “ohh yeah lets go see her” and takes him the chambers she's kept locked in.

They go by the gaurds who look at them like 🤨 but still lets them go cuz yeah one's a madman another's a buri mohila what can they do...

.....

Inside the chamber Kumudini bbg is still crying because ofcourse she would be

Psycho buri: ahh girll why do you keep crying?? You will literally marry the rajkumar he'd be such a nice husband...

Shonkor, internally: BITCH HOW'D YOU EVEN KNOW WHY MY PHUL JAISI LADKI IS CRYING YOU'RE THE REASON FOR THIS 🥰👹👺🔥🔪💀

So after sometimes buri mohila was like “lesgo home now” but disguised Shonkor refused to go anywhere and just shaked his head.

Buri was like “yeah if this bitch said no then I can not convince him, I'll just let him stay and hangout with Kumudini then...”

So she left and Fokir looking Shonkor stayed in the room with Kumudini who's still depressed and crying and what not.

.......

So late at night when everyone has already retired to sleep and all

Disguised Shonkor: yoo bestie can you recognise me???

Kumudini: wha- *looking closely* OHHH

then she just breaks down in more tears out of relief ig...

Kumudini: TAKE ME OUT OF HERE BY TONIGHT PLS PLS PLS BESTIE PLS 😭🙏

Shonkor, covering her mouth: shhh don't say that

Shonkor: dw da'lin I've found you now and I will get you out I promise 🥹🤌

Kumudini: okk bestie 🥹🥹

......

Now Disguised Shonkor keeps roaming around the place and doing his ✨🕺dance🕺✨ in front of the gaurd who suspect nothing cause he's a madman and he goes in and out of the palace quite a few time to gain their trust.

THEN when he's sure they will let him do anything he wants, he gets to Kumudini and tells her to dress as a man and then he takes her and they both escape from that hellhole 🗿🗿✨ (boi is so smart)

And they FINALLY get to the patal palace under the lake and see that Upendro is literally on the verge of his n'th mental breakdown.

Seeing his boyfriend and wife returning like that Upendro is like o.O And then Kumudini again starts to cry

Kumudini: I'M SORRY I WENT UP WITHOUT INFORMING AND ALL THIS HAPPENED WAHHHH 😭😭😭

Upendro: IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT THO WAHH 😭😭😭

Shonkor, awkward thirdwheeling most probably: ..... 🌝

Upendro: broooo you're my ultimate broooo come here 😭😭😭

And then they HUG 🗿✨ (and kiss ig)

.....

So now they all decide that “yeah let's get back home” (Upendro's kingdom) so they get out of that lake but to their surprise and horror all the people Shonkor brought to fetch them left lmao (like I wouldn't be waiting so long for them either) 💀💀

So they all get disappointed and starts to walk on their own like dumb bitches but obviously gets tired after quite some times so they decide they'd spend the night in that forest under a bigass tree.

......

Now under the tree as Upendro and Kumudini falls asleep and Shonkor is... Idk what he's doing he's just awake for some reasons ig... He hears two birds talking (bengoma bengomi reference yooo ahhh)

Husband birdy: yo wifey yk that montriputro Shonkor did so much to save the rajkonna and rajkumar but it's of no use...

Wife birdy: wot? why??

H. birdy: yeah see so when the king would send elephants and horses to fetch his son and daughter-in-law...

H. birdy: Upendro will fall down while climbing the elephant and die

W. birdy: 💀 what if someone doesn't let him climb the elephant??

H. birdy: ohh he'll be saved then

H. birdy: but then once at the kingdom, the shingho daar of the palace will fall on his head and he'll die

W. birdy: 💀💀 what if he doesn't goes from under the gate??

H. birdy: he will be saved but...

H. birdy: when he sits to eat at the feast, the fish bones from the machher matha would get stuck in his throat and he'd die

W. birdy: 💀💀💀 ...what if he doesn't eats the machher matha??

H. birdy: ohh he'll be saved then

H. birdy: but at night when he'll be sleeping next to Kumudini

H. birdy: a snake will come out of her nose and bite him and he'll die

W. birdy: 💀💀💀💀 what if someone kills the snake before it can bite Upendro??

H. birdy: then he will be saved...

H. birdy: BUT that person can't speak these words to anyone else or they'll become a stone statue

W. birdy: 💀💀💀💀💀 YO WTF

W. birdy: then is there no way to save that person???

H. birdy: yeah there is...

H. birdy: when Kumudini will give birth to her first born child

H. birdy: that first born child must be cut in half and it's blood must be poured on the statue for that person to again become a human

W. birdy: 💀💀💀💀💀💀

.......

So yeah Shonkor listens to those birdies for the entire night 💀💀💀💀 and goes “DAMN GOTTA SAVE MY MAN-” because obviously he's the greatest “friend” ever

Now in the morning Upendro and Kumudini wakes up and they all again start their lalala journey back to the kingdom. 💀

But comes across the king's send men on their way and they are all glad and then Upendro tries to climb the elephant

And Shonkor stops him 🗿

Shonkor: bestie lemme ride the elephant once pls 🥹

Upendro: ...

Upendro: ok :)

Upendro feels a little weird that Shonkor would ask something so out of the blue but lets him take the elephant ride anyway cuz anything for his boyfriend and Shonkor literally saved his and his wife's ass just recently. 🗿🗿✨🤌

.....

They get back to the kingdom, Upendro on the horse and Shonkor on the elephant (and Kumudini was in the palki ig I forgot lol)

But now when time came to cross the shingho daar

Shonkor: bestie pls break the door na 🥺

Upendro: 💀💀💀

Upendro: ok

Upendro starts to get a little annoyed but complies with everything Shonkor is asking cuz same reasons he can't deny his boyfriend, especially after he did so much.

So now they are all happy and everything coming back home and blah blah

But the same thing happens while they were eating, Shonkor notices that his boyfriend is served with that bigass rui machher matha and he's like

Shonkor: lemme eat that machher matha bestieee 🥺

Upendro: uhhhh

Shonkor: yaayyy thanks :3

Atp Upendro had started to get irritated cuz wtf is this son of a bitch (respectfully) doing.... Just because he saved their lives doesn't mean he owns them 💀💀💀🤌 but he still keeps quiet in the public to not cause any chaos.

......

Later time comes and Shonkor is like “ok bye darling I'm going home :D” (ufsos wo kabhi ho na saka...) but Upendro is still angry and he pretty much ignores his boyfriend... glad that he's finally going home 💀🥹🤌

BUT BUT BUT my sweet child of heavens Shonkor didn't went to his home... INSTEAD he literally went to Upendro's bedroom in secret and hid under the bed 💀💀💀

💀

Yeah....

So now later Upendro and Kumudini comes to the room and it's said they fall asleep after yk talking and stuff... But we all know that's not what happened right? 🗿💀 (Don't tell me I'm the only dirty minded bitch here I swear-)

......

Once Both Upendro and Kumudini are finally asleep, Shonkor crawls out from under the bed and stands at the corner with his sword like 🧍🤺

Then by midnight he notices some thread like stuff coming out of Kumudini's nose and he gets ready as that stuff slowly becomes a poisonous snek.

As soon as the snek tries to get close to Upendro and bite him, Shonkor is like 🗡️🐍🩸☠️ and kills it. But it's blood splashes all over Kumudini 💀🤌

So this dumbass bitch is like “yeah ykw it would be rude to let her sleep with blood on her face I should maybe clean it.."

BUT while he was trying to wipe of her face, Kumudini startled woke up and started to scream, which in term woke up Upendro 💀🤌

....

AS SOON AS Upendro is awake he's angry as fuck and starts to cuss at Shonkor 💀✨

Shonkor: pls don't misunderstand me lemme explain

Upendro: omg leave it Ik how you are

Upendro: you disgusting p.o.s

Shonkor: babe listen-

Upendro: I don't wanna listen

Shonkor: bestie I did it to save YOU

Upendro: SAVE ME? Save me from what? Stop lying

Shonkor: I- I can't say that I'll turn into stone

Upendro: idfc just tell me or I won't believe you EVER

Shonkor: you won't even believe even after I told I'll turn into stone.... 🥺😭😔

Shonkor: ....ok listen then.... 😔

.....

So now Shonkor starts to narrate whatever he heard from those birdies and both Upendro and Kumudini listens to him intently

By the time he told them about the elephant incident both his legs are stone, but Upendro insisted he continues... And by the time he's done telling till the machher matha incident he's all stone till his neck

Shonkor: you still wanna listen why I was in your room??

Upendro: yeah ofcourse duh I NEED to know the entire thing...

(I mean he got a point 💀 BUT DUDE YOUR BOYFRIEND IS TURNING INTO A STONE STATUE BRUH)

Shonkor: ok then 😔

Shonkor: BUT remember if you even want to turn me back... You will need to sacrifice your first born child and drench the statue in it's blood..

Shonkor: now listen....

And he tells them the entire thing and yeah... He's a stone statue now 🗿

Upendro and Kumudini now notices the cut up snake on the floor and they are like “damn buddy was telling the truth...” 💀💀

.....

So they both keep Shonkor's statue at a corner in their room from then on...

And soon Kumudini becomes preggo and in an year gives birth to a beautiful baby boy (whom I named Mukundo btw.... :D)

And then both of them are solemnly sitting in their room as Upendro takes little baby Mukundo in his arms and raises his sword AND- yeah... I ain't saying that.... 💀

The blood splashes all over Shonkor and in an instance he's back to normal.

......

The first thing Shonkor sees as he opens his eyes is Kumudini CRYING, SOBBING, SCREAMING IN DESPAIR and Upendro trying to comfort her through his own tears 💀💀

And Shonkor is now is despair and trauma because it's all because of him their baby is dead because of him.

He picks up Mukundo in a piece of cloth and RUNS to his own home, because he remembered his WIFE was a great devotee of maa Durga and perhaps she could help him... (YES YOU PEOPLE ALL THESE WHILE THIS MAN THIS DUDE THIS FUCKER WAS FUCKING MARRIED AND I WAS SHOOK)

But as he reached his home, he didn't knew what to do, so he ties the cloth which had Mukundo in it to the banyan tree in his backyard and goes inside trying to pretend everything is normal 💀🤌 (arre amar gadha reee)

.....

His wife (I named her Jogodomba hehe) is happy that he's back after so much time and it's all going good and well. But soon she starts to notice that something's wrong with her husband (fuck of Shonkor that' my wife, my woman, the love of my life 🗿🗿)

He'd sit quietly all day lost in thoughts and look really guilty and scared and sad and everything.

Jogodomba: hey... what's wrong...

Shonkor: ....nothing....

And she tries to ask him many times for the past days but when she sees nothings working she goes to the mondir to consult maa Durga (all problem one solution maa 🗿🗿✨✨)

Jogodomba: maa maa he's so weird these days he looks so sad and idk something is definitely wrong with that dude of mine... 💀🤌

Maa Durga: hmm I see... Go ask him tonight what's wrong and tell me tomorrow

Jogodomba: okk (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

.....

So FINALLY that night Shonkor at last tells bbg what's the matter as he have a emotional breakdown crying and all and Jogodomba goes to maa Durga the next day and tells everything to her 🗿

Maa Durga: ohh I see ok yeah bring the baby to me I'll revive him :D

And so Shonkor runs back to the tree and brings Mukundo and hands him over to Jogodomba who as soon as puts him near maa Durga's feet is back to being alive and well 🗿✨ (Joy Maa Durga 🙏✨🗿)

So now Shonkor runs back to the palace with Mukundo and hands him over to Kumudini and Upendro who are all SUPER GLAD to have their baby back alive and healthy

And Upendro hugs Shonkor crying saying how much of a great “friend” he is and how grateful he'd be to Shonkor for the rest of his life (I bet they kissed)

And happily even after Ig...? (Jogodomba is mine tho-)

.......

SOOO THAT'S IT. Amar kotha ti furalo note gach ti muralo....

And I'm so sorry these took sooo fucking long to post 😭🤌 I had been so stressed and busy this week trying to cope with school and shit that I got zero time to type and everything 😭😭

But here's it! The story that I wanted to retell... Hopefully... One day... 🥹🤌 But idk if that will ever happen LOL

So now coming to why I named my characters what I named them...

Shonkor and Upendro: well... They are inspired by Harihar 🗿✨ and their “we are the same we can't live without eachother we are eachother's heart” propaganda 🗿🤌 lol.... As I was once telling @igotadigbickandureadthatwrong

Kumudini: well... Kumudini means lotus so... Lotus = Kamala, hence Kumudini = Kamala/Lakshmi so Upendro's wife being her made sense to me... 💀🤌 Also because she's from patal in the story and that was also another iconic thing that matched with Lakshmi hahahaha

Jogodomba: well duhh obviously because she got that ✨special✨ connection with Maa Durga as we saw 🗿✨ and her husband is named fucking Shonkor so it only made sense right??? 🗿💅✨

(I am such a genius no?) so I got my own Shri-Hari-Har-Uma Quad now hahaha 💅✨

Also because Shonkor Jogodomba and Upendro were names that sounded bangali enough so I choose them specifically... Kumudini well.. since she's patalnivasini she is a little different then the rest ig...

Yaaa that's it LOL I hope y'all enjoyed it :D and lemme know how you liked it :))))

P.S. this silly doodle I made of Upendro and Shonkor one day hehe

[thetepes]

so gen question i hope doenst come across as offensive, but in your bio you say you dont like how the topic of lily is discussed and thats why you made ur blog. but it seems like you're agreeing with the other blogs in the lily-sphere uncritically. so which ones were you initially frustrated with, and what was the behavior you found so wrong in the first place?

I also think the lily hating has long since crossed over into lolcowing, to the extent that its very difficult to imagine real accountability is possible anymore. I agree with the stance you take in a lot of your posts, and then i see you reblogging and agreeing with the worst offenders in the lily sphere so like. have you changed your mind?

Look, I'm upset right now so excuse me if I'm terse, but I've REPEATEDLY and VERY LOUDLY admonished people for not giving a shit about her racism and homophobic bullshit.

I am extremely critical of who I reblog because there are plenty of people in this space who are just in it for the attention and bants, I've not been shy about that. I refuse to even follow people who post worthless shit.

I know you mean Sai, just say Sai. Sai has talked repeatedly about Lily's abuse of Courtney, Britt, in general, her trying to take away both her and Ant's channels, her racism, and her pedo inclinations. She might not cover it in totality on stream or in one big long video, but she doesn't shy from it. She's talked about it on stream.

She's also the only one of 3 people who checked on me behind the scenes after I was racially abused and purposefully triggered. She's also been one of Britt's loudest supporters.

I don't agree with her on a lot, I've openly not agreed with her on a lot. I've told her personally what I don't agree with her on. I've told her she can be out of pocket. She's one of those fun people you can go "Ayo, I disagree." and have a conversation with. There are some things she's just not going to budge on, donkey of a woman, and that's just fine with me.

And let's be fucking real, she's one of few in this space that takes the racism seriously. I've seen what people say. I know they only care until someone cries "You're not focusing on the important topics enough" then they call it "Lily being mean" because maybe six people in this space at most can handle confrontation and their ally ship only extends to the tip of their nose.

The media takes matter because that's where she shows her racism, xenophobia, homophobia, and pedophile inclinations the most. She couldn't even review hamtaro without making it weird with adding incest and sexualizing a literal baby hamster. Going over the media takes shouldn't be the main focus, but it serves a very good purpose.

My aim on here was to talk about her racism. It matters. Even if it's just me screaming about it in this godforsaken space, it matters. I'm tired of racism being given a free pass because it's progressive to hate asians and fetishize anyone darker than tea stain on teeth. I'm tired, as a CSA survivor, of the shit she's made like The MLP pedophile rape game getting a free pass.

I'm tired of people like you pretending none of this matters anymore because there was no big Lily left the internet blow up. That's not how things work most of the time, sorry. People like her and Birdie and Patricia and any of the other people I've mentioned on here don't take accountability and the police don't give a shit about online crimes most of the time. I'd know, I was blamed by them for being groomed as a kid and told I wanted it because I went in those spaces.

All we can do is keep pointing it out, supporting victims, and raising awareness of not just Lily, but other people like her that just will not face the justice their victims deserve while trying to mitigate harm. If you don't want to be a part of that, fine. Harm reduction is work and it's work you will not be acknowledged for. My advice is curate your experience like an adult. That's the healthiest and happiest way to live your life online and off.

So no, I've not changed my mind.

[billysgirllol]

"you'll do that for me?" really, she should stop askin' him that. clearly, he'll do all the good deeds for her. but surprise once again comes and takes over all over again. she just can't believe it. "just be as careful as you can, i'm sure you will be though." a gentle smile spills over her visage, if he's been this gentle with her tangled up curls without making her wince once. the warm water he spills over her back chases out the shivers that were creeping up, how much more tentative could he possibly be? "well we didn't, til you pointed it out." a little laugh bubbles up. "'course. it's the truth." about him and horses being very intelligent, she wonders why no one's told him that before. it's an admirable trait. "why not? you're allowed to." saying sweetly, figuring he just feels like being polite which is kind of him once more.

"i believe that is what i'm sayin'..." didn't really know what she wanted to believe herself. "one time in the woods, we spoke on that. i told 'im everyone's born with a natural goodness. and how.. it's up to us whether to use it or not. he thought that was funny when he scoffed at me and didn't think it was true. i see why now." jaw clenching at the reminder, "i guess he knew deep down he didn't feel any goodness. and i understand... getting angry is a valid reaction. yelling, throwing things, stormin' around... that's a valid reaction. that doesn't make a person evil. but he tried takin' my life, he took three lives. he wanted to make me a fourth. if i didn't upset him that day, it was just a matter of time he strangled me or somethin'. he pretended to care and then has capability to take my own breath. ...does that still mean he was born good?" questioning herself, "i'm not sure." lucy gray really didn't want to believe people were born evil, but what does she think when someone tries murdering her. "i think about that, too. a lot." on what would happen if she turned back around when he kept yelling at her, they could 'talk it out'.

"but like birds... i didn't trust it. i don't know if he'd still point that gun at me. but i have a bad feelin' he would've pulled the trigger even if i had been loyal. i don't think coriolanus is the type to freak out and then expect he'll calm down and still be nice to you." that would've been enough alone for him to put a bullet in her. so it was definitely best she kept running once she already made the move. "oh, it is. it's definitely accurate." the story is insanely accurate, she's witnessed it firsthand. "i appreciate you wantin' to look out for me..." the add in about reva blue cute and making her smile but the worry takes back over. "i just don't want you getting involved, he could hurt you too. i wouldn't be able to live with myself." and what if he'd hurt her over his own brother when it came down to it? nothing can be trusted anymore. "coriolanus may never care a single thought about wonderin' if i'm alive or not. he may be convinced i am, for all i know. so hopefully... it never has to be an issue. but it's the unknown that worries me." knees still folded, arm wrapped around her legs, turning back to face him in the slightest.

“once we’re done here, i’ll wash it and it’ll be as good as new,” he promises, knowing how much sentimental value the dress has. fingertips absently stroking her hair, not even trying to brush it anymore, just trying to make her feel good and help her relax. “i haven’t, by the way. gone through your songbook, i mean.” in case she’s wondering. she gave him permission to do so last night, but it seemed too personal, too invasive. “thank you, lucy gray.” it’s been a while since someone complimented his heart. people often admire what’s on the outside — his blue eyes and dark curls, his nose or cheekbones. she’s one of a very few who seem to care more about what’s underneath. “it means the world to me. i won’t let you down, i swear it.” scooping up a handful of water, he carefully pours it over her back to ensure she stays warm. “so are you, little bird. you’re very smart, too. way smarter than me.” she wouldn’t be here with him if she wasn’t highly intelligent. she wouldn’t have escaped coriolanus. which is still such a strange thought… “oh, yeah?” thankful for the distraction, he lets out another laugh. “never noticed you were also bird-sized and i was horse-sized,” he counters, getting to see her sense of humor for the first time and letting it bewitch him. he adores this side of her, but it has him wondering if this is the girl that she used to be — full of sassy remarks and giggles and sweetness. maybe she’ll be that girl again one day.

“i see…” billy hums, nodding his head even if she can’t really see him. he quickly picks up on what she’s implying, putting two and two together. the stories that she told him last night… “you don’t think my brother was born with a good heart, is that what you’re sayin’?” as children, they were like daylight and dark. polar opposites. but can he call that little boy evil? sure, they’d had their differences, but he wasn’t bad to the bone. he didn’t chase stray cats around the neighborhood or rip the wings off flies. “i’m not sure if i agree. maybe the capitol and our grandmother did that to him.” or maybe he was born with evil already inside him and it just came to light later in life. who knows? “i’m not defendin’ him, just thinkin’ out loud,” he says quickly when lucy gray’s head snaps around, looking at him with something that he can’t quite name or understand. it has him wondering if he’s said something wrong. a small, uncertain smile remains plastered to his visage, his own heart picking up pace. “did i —” say something wrong? but before he can get the words out, she’s speaking up again and he’s falling silent. gesturing for her to carry on.

“you planted a snake to scare him away and slow him down?” dark brows lifting, impressed and wary in equal measure. what if she still thinks he’s coriolanus? will he wake up with a snake under his pillow one morning? and lucy gray nowhere to be found? the idea has his heart missing a beat, chest constricting. but if she wanted to run, she would have done that while he was out by the creek. “i didn’t know ‘bout that. i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to bring back any bad memories with that story.” features softening, understanding her reaction better now. amusement fills his eyes, and he can’t help but think it’s such a badass move, setting a snake trap. “oh, i bet he thought it was venomous. what does he know ‘bout snakes? nothin’. i think that was a smart move. risky but smart. and it served its purpose, right?” it’s scary to think that his own twin brother was trying to hunt her down, shot at her, but then he thinks about their father, the kind of person he was… and it’s not so surprising anymore. “you think he would have hurt you anyway? if you came back to him instead of runnin’ away and plantin’ that snake?” is his brother truly as ruthless and heartless as their father? his heart aches for lucy gray, but for coriolanus, too. it must be awful, living that way, filled with hatred. “mhm, yeah. it’s just a silly story, but the moral is very accurate, i think. if you go through life with hatred festering in your heart, you’ll never be happy. but if you learn how to forgive and focus on healing from the bad experiences, you’ll be alright.” as if reading her thoughts, he adds, “he won’t ever find you, lucy gray. reva blue and i won’t allow it. we will always protect you. i will protect you.” 

[heleninhha]

TRAPPED IN SHADOWS | PROLOGUE/EN

I'm bout as broken as I confess but better than most that lay cower STFD, por TeZATalks

Romantic partner: Azriel (ACOTAR) Summary: When the Winter Solstice arrives, she knows it will be her worst moment, especially when those memories swallow her up like a bathtub full of ice. Approximate reading time: 10min Words: 1,9k Warnings: Slightly angsty, with a bit of cuteness in between and some signs of possible triggers. NOTE: I just want to protect her in a little pot and tell everyone to fuck off, honestly.

PROLOGUE: Winter Solstice Masterlist | Serieslist | Next chapter

Centuries before…

"You look decent."

"Darling!"

"For someone who runs out of the window all the time, that is some etiquette."

The Illyrian sighed, mentally apologizing as she turned her gaze back to her daughter. It wasn't decent, it was an insult, both to the child and to the maids who had helped her get ready. She was too young to notice the pure contempt dripping from another's lips, but the eyes glistening with trapped tears were enough to understand.

Alayna smiled weakly and bent down to fix the ribbon in the younger girl's hair.

"You look beautiful, my love," she said softly, hearing a discredited laugh at her back. "A real princess."

Leaving the women alone in the large room, the Grand Lord rolled his eyes before deciding to check the updates on the evening's festivities. Five seconds later, the satin curtains were swaying and the inviting breath of winter was hugging the bare calves of the girl.

"You ladies are late."

"Don't be rude. A lady is never late, the others are early."

Rhysand snorted, slightly annoyed.

"Of course, Mom."

The female smiled contentedly and called to her firstborn with her left arm outstretched, her eyes fixed on her daughter and any bad feelings she might be radiating. He obeyed, arranging his elegant silk outfit before kneeling before the youngest. His wings automatically circled the female.

"What's up, Blossom?"

Alayna pinched his hip and received a low whistle.

What have we been talking about?

It's a joke.

"Right, Blossom?" A raised eyebrow made him laugh.

"Okay, I surrender. You look beautiful, Dusk."

"Better," the older female hummed, resting her head on his shoulder. "And you, my dear? Do you think your brother looks handsome too?"

The child nodded, fingers squeezing the dress excitedly. Then she smiled, showing her teeth, and her eyes sparkled as the male messed with her hair, receiving another warning from the older woman.

She liked that, how it made her feel when she was with them. It was nice and cozy, like a fireplace on a snowy day.

"Rhysand!"

The girl laughed happily as she watched her favorite people in the world. When her father wasn't around to push her until she couldn't feel anything but anger and despair, she was always with her mother. When the eldest went to sew, the child gladly followed. When she went to pick fruit in the royal garden, she carried an old wooden basket. If she wanted to put on a pretty dress and make faces at people, she had the maids dress her like a porcelain doll.

It was easy for her to see that she would follow her mother into the darkest abyss. Maybe it was a dark thought for such a young fae, but it was one of the few things she was sure of. Well, that and the fact that her brother was incredibly conceited.

"Don't worry, I'll be back before you know it."

"That's not why my nerves are on edge…" The older woman bit her lower lip, her gaze distant. "Forget it. I know you'll make it, my dear."

"I'm the son of the Grand Lord of the Night, of course I can… hey, you brat."

Rhysand frowned at his sister, seeing a hard expression. All right, dangerous game; she could have been grinning like an idiot five seconds earlier, but one word to a high ego on the forbidden subject and the room would be in darkness. Or he'd have his ear pulled, as was happening at that moment.

"You're an annoying little thing," he whispered and turned away from the women before his mother cursed him an infinite number of times. "And we're late again."

"Who taught you to be so impertinent?"

"You did."

"Now, you…"

The boy left before his mother could catch him, passing the guards outside his sister's room. He walked with unusual class, nodding briefly to the younger girl's two confidants and whistling. A minute later, female voices embraced his acute hearing, bringing him to a halt just short of the wide, dark wooden doors that would lead him to hell.

Alayna sighed weakly at her son's side, partly out of breath from the short run, but even a blind man would recognize the true meaning of the oppressive sound. A contemptuous smile, shoulders straight and eyes ablaze, was all she could offer these poor people lost in a fog of lust and false hope.

"I want you to stay close to me," she said, taking Rhysand's hand in a gentle squeeze. "And don't even think of running away."

The girl cringed at the comment, though she felt it wasn't as contemptuous as her father's.

"I'm serious, my dear. You have my support whenever you want to spread your wings, but tonight... not tonight, okay?"

With a bang, the doors to the throne room were thrown open, and faes of all kinds stared at this strange yet powerful trio. One hair of the children of the Grand Lord's consort and the hall would be in pain and agony.

Rhysand felt his hand sweat, but he didn't flinch when he discreetly nudged his mother's back. Then she walked, holding her precious things as if her life depended on them.

The girl's eyes wandered around the room as she was led to the throne, where her father waited with a familiar scowl. Some stared back at her, looks of disgust and astonishment mixed with a strange, sweet smell in the air, while others didn't even give her a chance, choosing instead to watch their firstborn's every breath.

A few more steps brought the trio to their destination, and they all seemed to straighten up as Alayna whispered, her knee hitting the ground with a deafening thud:

"My Lord."

The crowd echoed in amazement and fear, and Rhysand followed in his mother's footsteps, choosing to lower his head and form a thin line with his lips before any nonsense could escape; this was no time for jokes. His sister, however, didn't seem to be thinking the same thing, or at all, for she looked like a frightened statue.

Kneel down, the boy thought, hoping she would get the message, but nothing happened. The girl didn't drop to the floor or give any sign of surrender, just stared into the emptiness of the room as if a ghost were haunting her.

A raised eyebrow, a tired sigh and a sudden tug brought her back to the moment of tension, and her mother mentally apologized as she straightened her knees on the cold floor of the hall.

"Stand up," the Grand Lord commanded.

In an instant, the trio had their backs straightened. Then the eldest stared at the youngest, a bad feeling filling him like cold water, and waved a hand dismissively.

Only when they reached the edge of the room did Alayna allow herself to let her guard down a little, sighing audibly as she leaned her head against the wall for a few seconds, just to get herself together for the rest of the party.

That would be a long night.

A few centuries later, but even before…

The night was still as the female tidied herself up, her lips parted as she tried to draw the outline of her eyes with the greasy black ink. Frankly, it was an almost impossible task, but she was determined to succeed.

"You look gorgeous, my dear."

She snorted a curse with her eyes fixed on the mirror, but she let Lucien know how much that made her want to laugh, because she looked anything but gorgeous.

He laughed as he felt the hairs on his arms stand up in the sudden air under his shirt.

"Think about it, you don't have to worry about your eyebrow at all."

"Just the mouth, right?"

"This is one thing we'll never be able to fix." He shrugged and popping his back as he got up from his friend's comfortable bed. "You've been at it for almost an hour, give it a rest."

She didn't bother to answer, choosing instead to stare at him in the mirror. If it hadn't been for the hideous mask, he would have seen his eyebrow arched in defiance.

"Don't you have some little children to torment?"

"I left it till next week." The fae laughed, her wings flapping in amusement. "You look like a dog wagging its tail.

Lucien was suddenly quiet, aware of the sour provocation. It wasn't a lie that he followed his Grand Lord until when he wasn't asked, but she always made it clear how much such things bothered her. Not that it was her problem; he was older, he was aware of his own attitudes, but he couldn't help but worry about his closest friend.

He was her confidant, her best companion in this shitty situation, so they could throw her to the wolves if someone was bothered by her concern.

"We'll be late if we keep arguing like this." He dodged the issue, running his fingers through his hair as he walked over to the female. "We don't want to disappoint your monstrosity."

A light laugh escaped her red lips. She liked it, how the male made her forget the darkness of the world — and her own.

"Just a second…"

Lucien snatched the pot of kohl from the dressing table and went for the brush in the girl's hand. If it hadn't been for his friend's ridiculous agility, he would have been able to steal it, but before he could blink, the fae was standing next to the closet mirror.

"You're a pain in the ass."

"You're a pain in the ass," she mimicked, pouting. "Just a second, Lulu."

He snorted and threw the container at the dark wood he'd picked it up from.

"So much stress…"

"And whose fault is it?!"

The fairy narrowed her eyes and lowered her right hand as she turned her wrist, shadows swallowing the brush and carrying it to the bowl of paint.

"Don't take your frustration out on me." The man sighed and returned to the bed. "Everyone is nervous, but don't push me.

"I know, I just..." With a sudden heaviness in his voice, his shoulders felt like they were made of lead. "I'm sorry, my dear."

Murmuring acceptance, the younger woman stared at her reflection in the mirror, the raven mask covering her face like a second skin, warm and sticky. She hated it, hated that Tamlin had convinced her to go along with this madness, but most of all she hated Amarantha.

That despicable being… One day she would kill her, and it would be painfully satisfying.

"Let's go before I give up on this shit."

Lucien laughed, some of the weight on his back disappearing.

"As if you had a choice."

"You play with life too much, Lulu."

She ran her hands down her black dress, the slit in her left leg revealing an ancient tattoo in a dead language. Then, with a confident nod, she smiled cruelly, feeling the venom seep through her pink lips; the embodiment of the Spring Court's bitch, completely separate from the dress code. If they made her a puppet, at least she'd have fun.

The male called to her, distracting her from the painful memories that threatened to take her away. An outstretched arm and kind eyes, a series of good deeds that made Lucien a complete gentleman. He could be a jerk in certain situations and extremely stupid when it came to his Grand Lord, but she would follow him to hell — or at least to that shitty party they were chained to.

"Let's parade a little, Greer."

Looking forward to it hehe Taglist: @lenasardn

[homielander]

i'm sorry but hotd positing that all women are innately cautious and peaceful and compassionate while men are rash warmongers is not a feminist win! i could see the value in everyone being hesitant to go to war at the onset of the story because it intensifies the tragedy of this house tearing itself apart, but at this stage, rhaenyra has as much reason for bloodlust (if not more) as the men on the show. it's pretty heavily implied that the shock of her usurpation killed her daughter, aemond killed lucerys, and one of aegon's kingsguard snuck into her quarters with the intent to assassinate her. most importantly, she has felt entitled to the throne since she was named heir as a child. she should be incensed! rhaenyra's inaction in the season 1 finale due to a sudden aversion to violence was already stretching believability -- this is the same woman who expressed nothing beyond mild shock at vaemond's beheading, who plotted with daemon to have an innocent man killed to facilitate laenor's escape while declaring that the realm should fear her. to have rhaenyra insist on peace at this point in the story, when war is already well underway, is incredibly irrational.

this problem is not limited to rhaenyra. alicent ordered larys to kill mysaria's network of spies and any suspected traitors in the red keep, presumably without any due process, and neither of these decisions was depicted with the gravity they deserved for a character who was once horrified by any bloodshed. meanwhile, aegon had a few extra ratcatchers executed, and not only was the direction sufficiently ominous, but we also got a lengthy monologue from otto about how it would spell his doom. it is probably pointless to bring up rhaenys because she is written less like a believable human being and more like a mouthpiece for the writers to assert whatever political opinion they believe is correct in a given episode -- but she did very much kill dozens if not hundreds of smallfolk last season. she did do that and very clearly did not care. why is she an advocate against war? for both alicent and rhaenys, there is a strange dissonance where their actions are at odds with their attitudes about opposing large-scale war for the good of the realm. i'm not saying this dissonance cannot exist, but it should at least be acknowledged.

helaena raising concerns about the losses suffered by the smallfolk might have worked in isolation, but for it to accompany everything above is exhausting. can none of these women be allowed to feel for themselves?

[kabutoden]

more yapping under cut but:

tl;dr: i think karkat would deeply respect steven as someone who brought peace, freedom and equality to his own people while also being a social outcast, even though he'd be SUPER mean and rude to steven on the face of it. steven would empathize deeply with karkat's existence outside of societal systems and the shared intense legacy of their ancestors they both have to uphold: but this would also set off his insecurity and frustration really badly. he'd convince himself he needs to fix karkat by making him outwardly 'nice' and would fail, because karkat copes by lashing out at himself and others.

frustrated and insecure about not fixing everything, i think steven would believe that karkat is someone who refuses to become a better person. karkat hates himself so he wouldn't deny that, even though its not true. furthermore, steven might extrapolate this to be the reason karkat may fail to 'save' trolls and resent that. having grown up with insane pressures and responsibility, steven fails to see that karkat deserved to get to be a normal kid too. steven survived and improved HIS world, why shouldn't karkat?

full essay. karkat is known in fanon to be the 'friendship troll,' and hes particularly good at socializing for trolls. hes a descendant of a stigmatized icon that was murdered brutally, and hes heavily dismissive towards the reverence people have for the sacrifice his ancestor made. that sacrifice left him with a heated hatred and rage for the injustice and cruelty of society, and complete exclusion from said system to the point his own existence breaks it fundamentally. his generational trauma gives him a hair-trigger anger response and extremely hostile and demeaning language to put anyone at arms length. despite this, trolls can tell that karkat's aggression is meaningless because he never follows through on threats and works himself past exhaustion and keeps the full group in mind, even people he doesn't like. dude refers to FIVE PEOPLE as his best friends.

to be friends with karkat is to ignore half the things he says because he's so jumped up on defensive hostility all. the. time. people fire back jokingly, dont take him seriously, think hes funny as hell, or just ignore him. at 13, karkats language is for keeping him safe in a very dangerous place, its supposed to make him appear as a dangerous and cruel person he is not. now, i think karkat views what really are coping mechanisms: his rage and mean vocab: as a permanent and intrinsic failure. this only depresses him further as he doesn't have the tools to understand why he's so angry and defensive.

steven on the other hand really cares about what people say and listens to them carefully. he's kind and deeply empathetic, and i think he'd recognize that karkats from a bad situation. they'd both be unsettled by how their places in the world overlap: steven and karkat are both heirs of complicated legacies and symbols of connection between their respective alien species and the human race. even more, they both resent the weight of their responsibility, as they struggle to bear it as best they can.

i think karkat would see steven's success as a peacebroker and like that. he wants that for his own people, he wants to BE that, but the icon he represents doesn't have such an easy claim to authority. karkat would see stevens response to his duty and think its admirable, and appreciate how steven helps his family. of course he wouldnt tell any of this to steven, and would probably be super mean to him.

steven deeply believes in his ability to heal and fix people and NEEDS the validation of doing so. he's vulnerable to insecurity and frustration when people don't need him or he fails to help them. he'd see karkat as someone in a situation uncomfortably close to his own. additionally, steven listens to people very carefully and takes them seriously. i think karkat's barbs and verbal attacks would really hurt him, especially when he respects karkat.

steven would see progress as karkat being acting more outwardly 'nice' when thats neither what karkat or alternia needs. karkat's truth and anger at cruelty and its results are motivating to make change as every troll suffers from the caste system. furthermore, i dont think karkat can change how gruff he is: its kept him alive for sweeps.

frustrated and insecure about not fixing everything, i think steven would believe that karkat is someone who refuses to become a better person. karkat hates himself so he wouldn't deny that, even though its not true. steven might cut off karkat as someone he feels empathy for and instead just feel... cold. furthermore, steven might extrapolate this to be the reason karkat may fail to 'save' trolls and resent that. having grown up with insane pressures and responsibility, steven would fail to see karkat also deserved to get to be a normal kid too. steven survived and fixed HIS world, why shouldn't karkat?

i think stevens idea of what makes someone a better person doesn't cooperate with who karkat is. tbf, karkat's behavior would be terrible for cable television as he's not really an example of good behavior kids should emulate, but the a result of a bad system. karkat is fundementally not tv-pg. hes incongruous with the messaging of steven universe as a show.

what you guys dont realize is karkat and steven universe would get along really well actually. sucks im sorry. its a fact. karkat would really like that guy. however, steven would fucking hate him

[cobra-creampuff]

the fact that they made it illegal to make ads louder than programs on tv in 2010 but haven't updated it to apply the same regulation to streaming. who do i have to call.

[gremzon]

I might have OCD actually

[summertimesadnessirl]

I'm not afraid of looking stupid.

I wish I was stupid.

Stupid people get everything they want. Because there are a million of them and they are just like everyone else and the only thing they know how to do is viciously attack anyone that's not them.

I'm afraid of doing the same thing over and over and no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to improve or do something better or make my life easier and more comfortable and fun and filled with fewer assholes, that will never be allowed.

I'm afraid of depending on others because even though other people all form big angry mobs and wreck everything that's not them and that's how society works, other people always ask more than I can give and shame me and fuck me over. The system is set up so that people who have a big group beat everything use and are constantly trying to fight you. But it's also set up so that I personally cannot seem to find a group I belong to without being just as miserable in a group as I am without a group for more than a very short while.

I am afraid that no matter what I do I will never be allowed to have a stable, peaceful normal life.

I don't care that I don't know everything but no matter what I do, no matter how much I read or research or experience or try or think or reason or work to build the life I want, it never works. I always end up right back at rock bottom, everything is ruined, I have no money and constant stress and stress triggers, everyone who I thought I could trust betrayed me or hurt me or ghosted me. I don't have anything to show for anything I did.

I'm afraid that there is no way out of that pattern.

That no matter what I do, I'll just have to keep almost getting the baseline level of having my shit together that everyone else in the world has at like 25, and I'm not saying I want to be perfect and I'm not saying I want some kind of untold treasure, I'm just saying I want what everyone I knew when I was 23 had at 25. I am willing to work for it but I want to be treated fairly like everyone else. I want to have a life.

Everyone else is allowed to do things that make them feel safe and happy and have their little quirks and have friends and have hobbies and eat food and have flaws and vices that are kind of harmless and every time I do those things it turns into some kind of reason for someone to punish me.

No matter what I do, someone comes along and drives me out.

I'm not afraid of looking stupid.

Because everyone has thought I was stupid my whole life even when I was right. Everyone knows I am stupid and crazy and fat and ugly and the only things that are good about me are my wardrobe and the fact that I do silly little picturesque poses and shit. The only people who are ever nice to me are men who plan on fucking me over later. Every other person intentionally gives me shitty advice, yells at me, tells me what they want and then punishes me for doing what they want, then punishes me for doing stuff that's not against any rules. I am greedy, ungrateful, stupid, disgusting and the only thing anyone wants from me is to constantly set them up to get praise and attention or to have sex with them. And they don't actually want the sex, they just want the ego boost from seeing me orgasm really hard. I do want to orgasm really hard because I genuinely enjoy it, but that also means I am not ever going to be allowed to have anything I want because the more you pretend to hate whatever you enjoy the most the more other people will give it to you, and I'm not willing to do that.

I am not afraid of looking stupid. I am afraid of being burned at the stake. I am afraid of being thrown into a mental institution and never allowed to leave. I am afraid of someone making me hurt someone else. I am afraid of being forced into hurting people because it's happened before. I'm afraid because I like hurting people because it's not fair that everyone else gets to be happy and safe and loved for free. I am afraid of being racist because my family taught me to say and parrot back stuff I didn't know was dogwhistles for a long time. I am afraid of hurting other people who don't deserve it like I was hurt.

There. There are all my fears.

Now fuck off and die.

your fear of looking stupid is holding you back

[victorluvsalice]

AU Thursday: Valicer In The Dark -- Fun With Trauma

Hi all -- it's time to talk about my VITD trio again! Specifically, today we're discussing their Traumas! :D Now, "Trauma" in Blades In The Dark refers to a condition your scoundrel picks up when they max out their stress during the course of their adventure -- once they fill up all their stress boxes, they have some sort of mental break, can no longer participate in the rest of the current score, and develop a new specific personality quirk that will haunt them for the rest of the adventures. A character can develop four traumas before they have to be retired from life as a scoundrel (either literally retiring or being thrown into jail as a sacrifice to the Bluecoats). On the plus side, each new trauma is also a chance to earn extra XP -- if your character struggles with the side effects of a trauma during a score, you can mark a point or two of XP for it and level up your character a little bit faster. The book has eight potential traumas for scoundrels to pick up -- Cold, Haunted, Obsessed, Paranoid, Reckless, Soft, Unstable, and Vicious -- but as I've thought about my trio and where I want them to go (and what other systems in the book I'd like to use), I've come up with somewhat more bespoke traumas for them:

-->Alice: Our favorite Cutter actually starts with a trauma -- as I've mentioned before, I looked at the description for the Haunted trauma -- "You’re often lost in reverie, reliving past horrors, seeing things" (pg 14) -- and went "yeah, that pretty well covers her hallucinations of Wonderland." (It's the reason she also gets two starting abilities instead of just one -- trade-off!) As for her next potential trauma, I was initially considering Vicious -- "You seek out opportunities to hurt people, even for no good reason" -- but then decided that perhaps a slightly more logical one would be a tweaked form called Overprotective -- "You make sure everyone knows that what's yours is yours, to the point of violence." Alice is, of course, protective of Victor and Smiler even before she picks up this particular trauma, but afterward, she can get a little overenthusiastic about keeping danger away from them, simply because she doesn't want to lose the people she loves again. That house fire where her family died did a number on her head, after all! The pair probably have to rein her in sometimes to make sure she doesn't accidentally cause them more trouble trying to keep them safe. I don't have a specific scene in mind for what triggers it, but I know it would have to involve Victor and/or Smiler getting hurt and her just letting loose to protect them.

-->Victor: My initial ideas for a trauma for our lovely Whisper were Paranoid -- "You imagine danger everywhere; you can’t trust others" -- as the result of a particularly dangerous score that spooked him badly, or Obsessed -- "You’re enthralled by one thing: an activity, a person, an ideology" -- as the result of him getting a little too much into studying the dangerous magic of Duskwall...but then, while researching the Ritual special ability to figure out how to create new rituals for Victor to use, I found the sample ritual "Portal to the Depths" -- which involves singing an ancient song to open a portal up into the Void Sea, swamping anyone unlucky enough to be in front of it with its dark water filled with mysterious starlight and dragging them into the cold depths. The thing is, whenever someone uses this ritual, along with taking six stress, they must also tick a progress clock called "Seduced By The Leviathan's Song."

Cue me coming up with a scene where Victor, having filled up that progress clock, is with Alice and Smiler at The Docks (yes, this the name of a neighborhood in the city; it is self-explanatory) -- and ends up getting mind-controlled by the song of a nearby Leviathan into nearly walking off one of said docks to either drown or get devoured. Fortunately, this is after the trio have started playing with hypnosis in their private lives, and Smiler and Alice are able to stop him in his tracks by invoking their control over his mind -- but the experience leaves Victor with the custom trauma Phobia -- "You are terrified of a particular person, thing, or place and refuse to be near it." As you might imagine, Victor's terror revolves around the ocean, and he refuses to be anywhere near it if he can -- no more scores involving The Docks for this trio!

-->Smiler: Deciding on any trauma conditions for our cheerful combination Leech/Slide was a bit tricky for me at first -- not only is Smiler a naturally-cheery person who takes a lot of things that would stress out others in stride (see them very casually talking to ghosts in "Start At The Beginning...Sort Of"), they also of course end up in possession of the ability Functioning Vice, which allows them to adjust how much stress they clear when indulging their Vice and makes emptying out that track between scores a lot easier. I really wasn't sure which of the ones on offer would actually fit them --

And then. While reading through the "Changing The Game" section of the book, I stumbled across the "Forgotten Gods" section in "Advanced Abilities and Permissions." Which details what happens when your character opens their mind to a forgotten god -- including access to the ability Glorious Visage, which allows the character to hit everyone in the vicinity with an image of the god's form, costing them three stress and causing everyone around them to at least flee in fear or be paralyzed with dread. The more traumatized the character, the more harm they can do, up to killing a specific person by shattering their mind. I was like "Oooooo, wow, creepy but neat" --

And then I was like "Smiler's already been touched by their god..."

Cue the creation of the custom trauma Vessel -- "Your body is capable of hosting the will of a forgotten god -- and they know it." The way I see this working for Smiler is, the first time they overmax their stress, their god Mar-Mal sees this, is like "!!! Let me help!" and straight-up possesses their body for the rest of the score. Fortunately they do leave once the danger is passed -- helped by Victor and Alice going "It would make us VERY HAPPY if you gave us Smiler back" -- and Smiler recovers from the experience, but the door has been opened in their head, and it's not being shut anytime soon. The trauma automatically gives them access to the customized special ability Joyous Visage -- where Smiler can use Mar-Mal's power to stun people with happiness (it works a bit like the "Hysteria" power in VTMB's version of the Dementation discipline, with people getting completely incapacitated by laughter) -- but every time Smiler uses that power, a die must be rolled. On a six, they use the power safely and only take two stress; on a five through two, they use the power but Mar-Mal takes an interest in the proceedings, forcing them to take three stress; and on a one, Mar-Mal is like "time to take over again!" and possesses their body for the rest of the score. On the plus side, Mar-Mal automatically succeeds at everything they do while in control of Smiler's body (they are a fucking god, after all); on the minus side, when they leave, Smiler has to deal with Level 2 "Post-Possession Exhaustion" harm (because hosting the power of a god is no joke). Smiler has mixed feelings about this whole situation -- on the one hand, they're super excited that they can host the will of their god and not die, but on the other...they are a little scared that maybe, one day, Mar-Mal won't give their body back...

And there we have it -- three lovely traumas for my characters to suffer with! I don't know yet when they'll come into play during all the various stories I have planned, but they are there when I need them! I'm sure the trio are thrilled. XD

[choking-on-roses]

I am so used to being an afterthought in everyone's lives that if someone came along who put genuine effort into spending time with me, like truly just wanted to hang out with me and made time to do it, I would probably 1) break down sobbing and 2) immediately fall in love with them

[altruistic-meme]

if you could... describe aftg in 5 words

oh this is not as easy a question to answer as it should be akfhsdkf bc like. i could describe its plot, or my thoughts on it as a fan, or how it makes me feel, or just make a joke, or or or and bc idk why you're asking it makes it harder :'))

but let's see...

plot: gay sports mafia found family.

fan: drama, familiarity, trauma, comedy, home

feelings: love, understanding, chaos, joy, comfort

joke: you know, i get it-

(as you can see, i couldn't pick which one to go with, so choose whichever 5 words you want lmao)

[timothyslucy]

i can’t wait for the angst that’s gonna hit when tim hears a call over his radio that there’s an officer down, immediately ditching his post behind that desk when they give out lucy’s name and badge number to find grey to give him keys to one of the shops so he can get to the scene as fast as possible.